The Bitch (3 page)

“No!” I reacted
so strongly that my body jerked again. I had to stop doing that, because it
hurt my ankles to no end. “Fine, I like it. I want this.” I was about to add,
“But not the hanging upside down by my ankles part,” but he didn’t give me the
chance.

He bent down at
my side, shoved the vibrator inside my mouth, and fastened some sort of
contraption around my head to hold the damned thing in place. Thank goodness I
knew that vibrator had come from home, because I could taste my sex juice, and
I did
not
like the idea of having another woman’s sex juice in my mouth,
even if it was mixed with mine.

That squicked me
out about as much as anal. Almost. Maybe.

Equally as
important as that was the fact that this one was small. I wouldn’t gag on it, I
could breathe with it in my mouth…but it wasn’t going down my throat.

I had to
appreciate the little things, given my current predicament.

A light came on
in the back of the van and for the first time, I could see him…and the stuff
all around me. He had to be well over six feet tall, all solid muscle. But even
more terrifying than Bradford’s size, the van was filled with all sorts of
crazy contraptions—stuff you’d expect to see in one of those BDSM clubs or
something else equally kinky and perverted. Whips, chains, black leather. All
sorts of stuff I’d never seen before and didn’t want to think about.

No way in hell
was I ready for this, unless I was the one doling it out. But I’d already
agreed. And I was hanging from the roof of a moving van—not exactly in the best
position to dole anything out. All I could do was take whatever he—
they
—decided
to give me, and hope to hell I liked it. Or at least that I didn’t hate it.

How the fuck did
I end up in a situation like this, anyway? My money was on Dustin being fully
behind it, and if that was the case, he’d pay come Monday at work.

Bradford got all
my attention again, though, when he kneeled before me with these clear cups of
some sort. He put one over my right breast and settled it firmly in place. Then
he attached a hose-like thing to the end and squeezed a bulb, and it was like
it was trying to pull my nipple through the hose.

I hissed in a
breath around the dildo in my mouth, but he kept the thing going until my whole
tit was swollen inside the cup. Then he repeated the process on my other
breast. But he had another cup, and I was pretty sure I knew where he intended
to put that.

I tried to
squirm away, but I couldn’t move or say anything. All I could do was hang
there, upside down, and let him.

Bradford stood
up, ignoring my protests. His mouth came down over my sex, and he sucked and
slurped until my hyper-sensitive clit made itself known. Then he pinched it,
hard, with something that he left in place while the cup came down over my
entire pussy area—labia, clit, all of it.

When all the air
was suctioned out of it, and I felt like my entire cunt was going to explode
from the crazy pressure, he disconnected the hose and set it on the table. Then
he started playing a porno on the computer screen, hit the lights, and left me
hanging with nothing to do but watch.

I guess he went
up to the front of the van. I don’t know. I was too busy looking at the chick
tied in place, on all fours, sucking on a monster cock while a fucking machine
reamed both her nether holes and another dude spanked her with a paddle.

I’d never been
into watching porn. Alex couldn’t get enough of the stuff, and since we got
together, he’d tried on multiple occasions to get me to watch it with him.
Maybe he was just showing me the wrong flicks or something, though, because
despite myself, this was getting me off. I’d never felt so wet or horny in my
life as I did watching two men abuse this chick…watching the way
she
got
off on it. She sure as hell didn’t think it was abuse, with the crazy orgasms
that seemed to come one right on top of the other, and the way she was
squirting.

I’d always
thought female ejaculation was a myth. But there it was, right before me, while
I hung upside down in a moving van.

Holy fuck, this
was nuts.

By the time the
van rolled to a stop, the chick on the screen had had at least four screaming
orgasms, and I was on the verge of one.

The van rocked,
and then both doors slammed closed. And then all I heard was voices. Male
voices. Lots of males voices.

I couldn’t make
out how many there were, but it had to be at least three or four. For all I
knew, there could be a dozen or more. But with me still hanging from the roof
in the back of the van, I couldn’t make out what any of them were saying.

When the back
opened, I was yet again blinded by the setting sun so I couldn’t make out what
was going on. Two men climbed in with me, Bradford and someone else. The other
guy put a blindfold over my eyes while Bradford attached some sort of leather
cuffs to my wrists, replacing the handcuffs. Then they released my ankles from
above, leaving the cuffs on them, and carried me out while all the blood in my
body rushed back to where it belonged.

They didn’t
carry me very far, but I still had no clue where I was—just that I was outside
somewhere and no longer in the van.

When they sat me
down, my bare ass was on something hard and rough, right on the edge of it. One
of them immediately spread my thighs wide and bent my knees, locking my ankles
into place somewhere out almost beside my hips so that my sex was wide open for
anyone to see. The other pushed me back until I was lying down on whatever it
was. He stretched my arms up above my head and locked them into place as well.

It smelled like
the woods, all piney and fresh, so I could only imagine I was strapped to a
picnic table. The sharp bits digging into my ass and various places along my
back would seem to confirm that—it was a very old, very used, and likely very
dirty picnic table. For a second, I worried about being seen, but that didn’t
last long. I needed all of my focus on what was happening to me, not on the
variables that
could
potentially be taking place.

They took the
suction cups off my breasts and cunt, and I nearly screamed around the vibrator
shoved in my mouth. Being upside down all that time had been nothing. The way
my blood was trying to redistribute itself, all racing into those highly
sensitive areas at once, was almost more than I could take.

Then one of them
toyed with my clit, which still had something pinching against it. I shook my
head, moaning into my gag, but it didn’t do any good. They released the clip
thing, and then I did scream.

I felt swollen,
raw, achy, tingly…like I’d done nothing but fuck, fully aroused, non-stop for a
solid month.

Not that I’d
ever done anything like that before. But this is how I imagined it would feel.
Like I couldn’t possibly have sex again for at least a week or I’d fall over
from the pain of it, and yet I couldn’t imagine doing anything but having more
sex.

Then I heard
Bradford’s voice while something rained down over my stomach. “Use condoms when
you’re in her cunt. We’ve got more where that came from. For every time you
fuck her pussy, you’ll earn a night in the shelter. Every time you fuck her
throat, you’ll earn a meal. Got it?”

The murmurs of
assent were enough to have me panicking, but then I realized what it meant.
Nights in a shelter? Meals? These had to be homeless men. Likely very dirty
homeless men. I couldn’t let unwashed cock inside me, condom or no. The thought
gave me the heebie-jeebies like I couldn’t explain. I squirmed, but with my
ankles and wrists locked in place, there wasn’t anywhere I could go. Every time
I moved, the splintery parts of the table dug into my flesh more.

Then two hands
took my breasts in a bruising grip and squeezed hard, which left me breathless.
“You’re doing a great service to these men, Marina. You should try to enjoy
it.” It wasn’t Bradford, so I could only guess it was the driver.

Either way, I
stopped struggling because it hurt too much to do otherwise.

The strap
holding my gag in place was loosened, and the vibe was pulled out of my mouth.
Before I could brace myself, a huge cock thrust balls deep into my sex. I cried
out from the pain of it, but couldn’t cry out for long. The table shifted, and
a man straddled my chest, and the heat from his cock nearly scalded my lips
when he pushed inside.

They were both
grunting and thrusting, and the thought of the how dirty the man in my mouth must
be had me close to puking. All the while, hands kept groping my tits, and
another man shoved his cock between my hands for me to stroke.

With a shout and
a thrust that felt like it should topple the table, the man fucking my pussy
finished. No sooner had he pulled out than he was replaced with another cock.

“These guys
never get to fuck a hot bitch like you,” Bradford said, right by my ear. “So
you’ll fuck them, and you’ll find a way to like it if you want to be allowed to
come sometime this weekend.”

The man in my
mouth shot his load deep into my throat, a massive, sticky mess of cum that kept
coming and coming. I choked and gagged, but I managed not to drown in it. And
again, as soon as he cleared away, another man came along and replaced him.

I moaned, and
then Bradford was back in my ear.

“You’ll like
this, bitch, and they’re going to keep fucking you until you do. You know how
I’ll know when you start liking it? When you come.”

I was all
prepared to start the best fake-out orgasm of my life when he grabbed me by the
hair.

“Don’t you dare
fake it, bitch. Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll know it, and then I won’t make
them stop until you’ve swallowed a gallon of homeless dude cum, and you’re
covered in the stuff, and you’ve come for real at least a dozen times.” Then he
chuckled. “And trust me, that is very tempting anyway. It’s an idea that has
some serious merit, Fuck Toy.”

Fuck Toy
.
He’d called me Fuck Toy. And he’d called me bitch.

And it had
turned me on. So had his pulling my hair.

Oh, hell. I
might be more of a slut than I realized.

After about six
guys had spilled their cum in my mouth, I stopped smelling the sweat on their
bodies and thinking about homeless guy filth being inside me, and started just
smelling the musk of sex. And at that point, every grunt, every slap of flesh
on flesh, every smack on one of my tits, every time one of them dug his fingers
into my hips to drive into me harder—all of it started to really get me off.
Bradford had been right.

I did like it.
Which was just all kinds of sick and twisted. A hot spurt shot down my throat
and I swallowed greedily while the man ramming into my pussy thrust into me so
hard I was sure I’d be bruised. A new cock pushed between my lips before I’d
finished swallowing all the cum, and a stream dribbled out of my mouth and down
my cheeks.

Another thrust
from each cock, and the walls of my sex started to clench and shudder. Then
another, and I panted for air. Another, and I squealed around the dick in my
mouth and my toes curled, and I exploded from the inside out.

The blindfold
ripped free from my eyes while the two cocks continued to shove into me. I
blinked in the setting sun, then the men around me came into focus. Big men.
Muscular, sculpted, well-groomed but sweaty men…but they all looked like
athletes, not dirty, grungy homeless men. With bone-crushing force, the guy
fucking my sex finished and shouted out loud, but the one in my mouth was just
getting into a rhythm.

I turned my eyes
to the side and caught sight of Bradford, who bent down beside my head and
whispered in my ear. “I lied. They’re not homeless. They’re the university
water polo team. But you’re such a fucking whore bitch that you got off on the
idea of dirty, stinking homeless men gangbanging you.”

I couldn’t do
anything but gurgle against the long dick forcing its way down my throat and
blink at him. A few minutes later, he picked up his tempo, taking my head
between both his hands, and then shot a stream of cum deep down my throat
column.

When he got off
me, most of the men pulled their clothes on again and left, walking off into
the darkening forest surrounding us. Bradford and one other man remained
behind, and I remained attached to the picnic table, struggling for breath.

“You did well for
the first bit of your training,” Bradford said. “This is my partner, Davis. For
the remainder of the weekend, you’ll call me Master and you may call him Sir.
You’ll do exactly as you’re told as soon as you’re told. And you’ll come only
when we want you to come. Is that clear, Fuck Toy?”

There he went
with calling me Fuck Toy again. Instead of answering him, I just glared.

Davis moved
closer to me and slapped me on the cheek. “Answer him, bitch.”