Addicted (19 page)

No rush? I was
supposed to be working, take my fix and then work on my erotic
painting - my filthy painting. "This should be interesting," Gary
said, taking something from the small table. Both men kneeling
behind me, my buttocks crudely parted, something hard and cold was
forced into my bottom-hole. "It's an anal speculum!" Gary chuckled
as he did something to the device. My anal entrance slowly opening,
I gasped.

"Please, no,
Gary!"

"I'm going to
open you up, Helen - open you so wide that we'll both be able to
force our cocks up your arse."

"No, you
mustn't!"

"After this,
I'll allow you your fix."

"No, no!"

My screams
went unheard as my anus opened wider, exposing my most intimate,
inner rectal flesh to my abusers' eyes. Satan was inciting them, he
must have been. What man would do this to a defenceless woman
unless he was possessed by the Devil? What god would give a woman
an addiction like mine? There was no God. There was no love. Filth
and sexual abuse reigned. Satan ruled.

"Satan!" I
gasped in my fear and panic, although I didn't know why. The
dreadful word racked my mind as a finger probed within my open
duct, massaging the velveteen walls of my rectum.

"I give my
arsehole in the name of Satan!" Gary laughed as the finger entered
me further. "Go on, Helen, say it. In the name of Satan, I give my
arsehole."

"No, never!" I
cried as another finger entered my stretched rectal tube.

"Say it, or
you'll never have your fix."

"Gary, please!
I can't say that!"

"OK, no
sperm."

"Please!"

"Say it,
Helen!"

They were only
words; I tried to convince myself - meaningless words. Weren't
they? I imagined that I sensed Satan, lurking, grinning in his
evilness, rubbing his hands together in his wickedness. I couldn't
repeat the sacrilegious words, but my craving for sperm was now so
powerful, so intense, that I knew I had no choice.

"Repeat after
me," Gary said. "In the name of Satan."

"In the name
of... of Satan," I sobbed.

"I offer my
arsehole."

"I offer my
arsehole."

"I sacrifice
my cunt."

"I sacrifice
my cunt."

"My body and
soul."

"My... my body
and soul."

My tears
soaking the carpet as the fingers withdrew from my stretched anal
duct, I prayed to God for forgiveness - and cursed Tony for leaving
me alone. They were only words, words spoken under duress, I tried
to convince myself. Meaningless words. Judas? What had I become?
What had I done? In the name of Satan, I offer my arsehole, my
cunt, my body and soul. In the name of spunk.

"Let's give
her the cane!" Phil chuckled. "After all, she's now the Devil's
daughter, she deserves a good thrashing!"

"Please, I
need sperm," I whispered, my mind spinning in my confusion and
guilt.

"Yes, later,"
Gary replied. "We haven't finished examining your arsehole
yet."

"Gary, you've
had your fun, degraded and humiliated...."

"The fun's
only just begun!"

Quivering as
my anal entrance opened wider, I couldn't believe my horrendous
predicament. The wooden pole between my thighs, the anal speculum,
nipple clamps, a dog collar, handcuffs and chains... Gary could
have at least allowed me my fix before embarking on his reign of
sexual debauchery.

"I'd never
have thought we could open her arse as wide as that!" Phil laughed.
"Do you reckon we could both get our cocks up her?"

"No problem.
But I want to take some photographs first. I'll go and get my
camera."

Blackmail,
again? I wondered as Gary left the room. Imagining the sight of my
crudely opened bottom-hole, my bulging cunt lips, I prayed that he
wasn't going to have my face in the pictures. I'd had enough
trouble with Alan Walker and the postman with lewd photographs of
me, without Gary getting in on the act.

Kneeling
behind me, Gary focused his camera, the flash lighting up the room
as he took shot after shot of my inner anal flesh, my gaping sex
crack. The bastard made sure that my grimacing face was clearly
visible, as I'd thought he would. This would stay with me for the
rest of my life, I knew. The shame, the shocking violation of my
body would haunt me, forever taunt me.

The photo
session over, my abusers left the room and locked the door. They'd
be back, I knew as I tried to make myself comfortable. They'd be
back to commit more vile sexual acts upon my tethered body; force
me to endure more sexual abuse. The front door slammed shut, Phil
had gone. Were they going to leave me tied up for days on end,
positioned for crude sex whenever it took their fancy?

Why hadn't
Gary allowed me my fix? The least he could have done was keep his
side of the bargain. He was probably waiting until I was in such
dire need of sperm that I'd agree to do anything. But what else was
there I could do? I wondered. I'd allowed him to commit every vile
sexual act imaginable - what else was there? I was soon to find
out!

My body
aching, my anal entrance crudely stretched wide open by the
speculum; I suffered my degrading position until the sun had
dropped from the sky and twilight stole into the room. I prayed for
Gary to return and release me, release me not only from my chains,
but my craving for sperm.

Where was he?
I wondered. He'd been gone for an age, obviously without giving a
care for me, my addiction. Did anyone really care for me? Tony
cared. He'd probably been phoning, wondering where I was, what I
was doing. I was cheating on him, betraying him, lying. Harsh words
I'd never thought would mean anything to me. Lie, cheat, betray,
adultery, anal intercourse - prostitute. Tony had thought I'd bring
him love, but all I'd brought him were lies. My life was a lie now.
Could I really call this a life?

Gary finally
walked into my prison cell, his face grinning as if he'd just
thought of some horrendous act to commit on my naked body. "Do you
want my sperm?" he asked, stroking my stinging buttocks, his
fingers exploring my inner anal flesh. The bastard knew damn well
that I was desperate for a fix. He had me just where he wanted me,
naked, vulnerable, prepared to do anything. "OK, as you've been a
good girl, I'll fuck your mouth and spunk down your throat," he
said in his vileness, releasing the dog chain from the steel ring
in the floor.

I slowly
lifted my head as he knelt before me and hauled his erect penis and
his balls out of his trousers. I'd drink his sperm, just one more
time, and then never return, I vowed as he pulled his foreskin
back, exposing his shining purple knob, his spunk-slit. Never again
would I lower myself to such depths of filth, endure the awful
degradation and humiliation.

"Mmm, that's
good," he breathed as I engulfed his ballooning glans within my hot
mouth. "You're a good cock sucker." A good cock sucker. I was once
a lady in love, now I was a whore in lust - a good cock sucker.
"Take it to the back of your throat, Helen. Give me a really good
blow job, or I won't allow you to drink my spunk."

My lips taut
around his broad shaft, I fervently sucked and mouthed, stiffening
him, taking him ever-closer to his climax as he gasped in his
debauchery. Gripping my head, he withdrew his saliva-wet cock and
drove into me again, mouth-fucking me, using and abusing me. I
desperately needed his spunk now, pumping, gushing, filling my
cheeks, calming me. Faster, he mouth-fucked me, my head jolting
with the penile pistoning, my lips rolling along his veined shaft.
I was so close to my fix now.

"Coming!" he
finally cried, my taste buds waking as his salty sperm gushed from
his swollen plum. I sucked and swallowed, running my tongue over
his throbbing glans until I'd drained his balls, taken every last
drop of the beautiful male liquid. Now all I had to do was wait for
calm to wash over me, serenity to engulf me. But I knew only too
well that, after a couple of days, my craving would return,
shattering the peace once again.

"I want to go
home now, Gary," I murmured as he slipped his wet cock out of my
mouth, his spunk dribbling down my chin. "I need to go home
and..."

"All in good
time," he grinned menacingly, zipping his trousers and standing up.
"One last thrashing, and then you can go."

"No! Please,
Gary!" I yelled in my rising anger, my patheticness, as he moved to
the corner of the room. "You've had what you wanted, you
can't..."

"There's
nothing I like more than thrashing women's buttocks. I like
watching the weals fanning out across their twitching bum
cheeks."

The bamboo
cane cracking loudly across my tensed buttocks, I rested my head on
the floor, pitifully resigned to my horrendous predicament. The
stinging pain permeating my burning buttocks, I squeezed my eyes
shut, praying that the caning would soon be over and I'd be allowed
my freedom. I'd had my fix, now I just wanted to go home.

"Look at your
hairless cunt lips bulging between your thighs!" he chuckled,
bringing the cane down again with a deafening crack. "And the
speculum's stretched your arsehole open so much that I doubt it
will ever close!"

"You're
revolting!" I spat, imagining the sight of my taut brown tissue, my
open hole.

"I'm so
revolting that I might keep you here for the night and force you
to..."

"Please!" I
sobbed as he continued the thrashing. "Please, Gary!"

"You want
more? OK, then."

Again and
again the cane struck my stinging buttocks. My naked body
trembling, jolting, I knew I couldn't endure the merciless
thrashing for much longer. But my predicament had been my own
doing, I'd agreed to be used and abused in return for sperm - I'd
agreed to give my body, my cunt, my arsehole, to the Devil. I must
have been mad!

After
administering another twenty or so lashes, he discarded the cane
and knelt behind me, examining his handiwork. My body aching, my
bum stinging like hell, I again swore never to return to the prison
cell. I'd get sperm from another man, any man other than Gary,
although I knew it was easier said than done. The drug taking
effect, it was easy to convince myself that I'd not need Gary
again. Never again, said the drunken drunk - until tomorrow.

My aching
bottom-hole closing as Gary gently slipped the speculum out, I
sensed immense relief wash over me. It was all over, but I'd given
my body and soul in return for my fix - sold my very being to
Satan. Were they only meaningless words? Or did Satan now possess
my soul? I dreaded to think.

Finally
releasing me, the chains of bondage clanking, Gary helped me to
stand up. My legs sagging, I managed to stagger across the room and
retrieve my clothes. Dazed, sperm oozing between my inflamed pussy
lips, my burning buttocks, I covered my abused body, the weals,
longing to get home and sink into a hot bath.

"I'll see you
in a day or two," he smiled, opening the door for me as I finished
dressing. The bastard was sure that I'd be back, but I was
determined to do my utmost to prove him wrong. He wasn't going to
win the next battle. He was the loser, not I.

"No, you
won't, Gary!" I returned as I pushed past him in the doorway.
"You'll never see me again!"

"Oh, yes I
will!"

"I'll tell you
this, you've riled me! I'll never forget the evil things you've
done to me, the way you've treated me. The day will come when
you'll pay for treating me worse than an animal, of that, I promise
you!"

"You deserve
to be treated worse than an animal, Helen. You're nothing more than
a common whore. You committed adultery on the common, you filthy
whore!"

"The day will
come, Gary, believe me!"

"Yes, and I'll
come again, up your tight arsehole! Now, get out!"

Leaving his
house, the huge orange sun descending behind the trees as I made my
way home, I could barely believe the terrible ordeal Gary had put
me through, his cruel words. He'd behaved like an animal, and
treated me like a dog! A prison cell, a sexual torture chamber,
constructed solely for me? What sort of man was he? I wondered as I
reached the safety of my house. An evil monster, that's what he
was!

Grabbing the
ringing phone as I entered my studio, my stomach sank. It was Tony,
asking after me, checking up on me. Where had I been? What had I
been up to? Why hadn't I been working? Did I know what time it was?
How long had I been out?

"Please,
Tony!" I interrupted him angrily. "I can't take much more of
this!"

"Of what?" he
asked.

"Of you asking
me questions. I've been out for a walk, OK?"

"No, it's not
OK. No one goes for a walk for several hours."

"Well, I did.
The weather's better than ever so I went for a long walk; it's as
simple as that."

"I wish I'd
never gone for this promotion," he sighed. "Things were fine when I
worked in London and came home every night."

"Things are
fine now, Tony. I don't know why you keep checking up on me. You're
hemming me in, I feel trapped." Prison cell.

"I'm sorry,
Helen, it's just that I'm worried about you. You've changed, you're
never in when I phone, you..."

I sensed anger
rising. "Tony, there's nothing wrong with going for a walk! I've
been working late into the nights, and sleeping during the day.
God, we've been through all this before!"

"Look, I have
to go. Make sure you're in tomorrow at the same time and I'll ring
you. We'll talk about it then."

Talk about what, men filling my holes with their
spunk
? "OK, Tony," I sighed, wondering
about our relationship for the umpteenth time.

Replacing the
receiver, I gazed at the erotic painting I'd been working on - the
filth I'd been working on. Inspiration came like a bolt out of the
blue, and I grabbed my brush and pallet. I'd create one filthy
painting after another - women sucking cocks, spunk running over
girls' firm breasts, weal-lined buttocks rising above shaved cunt
lips, anal sphincters open, their naked bodies abused in every
perceivable way...