Indentured (12 page)

He grabbed my hair and tied it in a hard knot, then
attached it to a hook or something above me, preventing me from moving it even an inch. Another metal hook lowered down beside me, and he used it to hang my catheter bag, the bag of IV fluids, and whatever would send nourishment into my belly.

After removing a thin, metal chain from his pocket, he drew one end of it through each of the rings he’d just inserted into my nipples and clit, pulling it snug before stretching the chain down to connect to a hook in the floor beneath me.

A blindfold came over my eyes, and a spider gag got forced between my teeth.

“Try to sleep now, because it’s the last chance you’ll get for a long time.”

As a final touch, he lowered noise-cancelling headphones over my ears and then gave me a little shove on the shoulder, proving to me that even the tiniest of movements would hurt like the dickens.

Then I was alone.

Needless to say, I hadn’t slept a wink
(regardless of all the practice I’d had lately) before I felt the touch, even though it had been hours.

My bladder felt so full
, pressing against my lower abdomen and stretching my belly something awful, that I was sure it would explode at any moment, but he’d stoppered the catheter, preventing me from peeing. My arms and legs and back had never hurt so much in all my life, and considering the last month that was saying something. The dildos in my pussy and ass felt like they were ripping me apart, and still I kept feeling tighter. Even without him zapping me with electricity in my piercings, my clit and nipples felt as big as grapes and more painfully sensitive than I could have ever imagined.

The touch felt like someone had taken a rusty sword and used it to slice my clitoris in two. I screamed out in agony, both hating and loving the fact that that was all it took to kick off a new orgasm.
I jerked and writhed, which tugged on my limbs and hair and put crazy pressure on my nipples and clit. The orgasm only seemed to multiply, exploding into a dozen other orgasms, and I screamed out through the gag. Strong fingers pushed against my clit, rubbing and pinching and digging fingernails into my flesh.
Fingernails, not a rusty sword
. Christ, how was it possible for a fingernail to do that to me?

My scream died off
quickly, because within moments a hard, hot cock was pressing through the ring between my teeth, forcing its way deep into my throat in a single thrust.

Strong hands were all over me, too many to count, squeezing and tugging and pinching and pulling and slapping and spanking. Hands on my breasts, on my back, on my thighs, on my belly, on my pussy, on my ass. Hands reached between my legs and toyed with the dildos inside me, fucking me
hard with them before pulling the one in my ass out and replacing it with a cock.

By then, the man in my mouth had shot his load of cum deep down my throat. I was gurgling on it, trying to swallow all of his semen so I didn’t drown in it, but another cock was
thrusting through the ring between my teeth.

Time no longer made any sense. Minutes, hours, days. All I knew was fucking.

The dildo in my cunt was ripped out and replaced by a real cock at some point. They kept rotating, so there was always someone fucking me. Some of them dug their hands into my hips, rutting up hard into me so that each thrust jerked my body wildly against my restraints. The men fucking my throat grabbed me by the knot of hair, and it felt like giant chunks of my hair would rip free from my head.

Through it all, I couldn’t stop my orgasm to save my life. I kept getting little electrical jolts to my clit and tits, forcing the climax to climb ever higher instead of
allowing it to taper off. The dicks thrusting into my cunt and my ass felt huge, brutal, pounding into my raw flesh over and over and over again.

I must have serviced at least three dozen cocks already, and every tiny movement was putting more pressure on my full-to-bursting bladder by the time the val
ve on my catheter was released. There was hardly a moment to feel relief, though, because my bladder immediately started to fill again, and still they kept fucking me.

I felt cum dripping and oozing out of my ass and sex and coating my face, and still more cocks kept entering me.

On and on the fuck-fest went, for hours, days, I didn’t know. All I knew was sex, pain, sensation, heat, need.

Then finally, it was still. Quiet.
Dark.

Punishingly hard jets of ice cold water woke me, juddering
into my abused sex and ass. Only when I heard my muffled scream did I realize the headphones were gone.

I blinked, and in the bright spotlight
I saw dozens of men staring back at me from the circles of chairs…men of all different races, shapes, and sizes, a hundred or more of them in all, most of them stroking their very erect cocks as they watched me.

They must have removed my blindfold too, then
, if I could see.

I’d been straightened so I was hanging vertically
, my arms straight up overhead and my legs still attached to the spreader bars, with my ankles pulled taut and hooked to the floor. My toes still couldn’t touch down for balance, and taking a breath required me to pull myself up by the arms to relax the pressure on my rib cage.

The entirely-too-familiar penis
gag was now pressed tight between my teeth instead of the spider gag from before.

I shivered and shuddered as the water continued to pound into me, over me, around me for way too long. It was when I felt hands on my lower abdomen, though—big, strong hands pressing against my insanely swollen bladder—that my tears started flowing.

Whoever he was, he was behind me, his huge cock grinding against my ass cheeks as he kneaded my abdomen. Another man was on his knees before me with the water hose, and he worked the nozzle into my pussy.

Even though I knew it was coming, the intensity of the sensation was more than I could bear. Freezing jets of water blasted into my cunt, and all the while he thrust the nozzle into my sex over and over again in a hard, fast fucking motion.

I couldn’t have stopped the screams and tears if I’d tried.

Somehow through the haze of sensation, I saw
him
come up before me.
Sir
. My Master. The man I was indentured to, and who had initiated it all.

He came up beside me, his big, strong hand cupping my cheek and turning me to look at him. I whimpered into my penis gag, pleading with my eyes for god only knows what. An end to it? Something more? I couldn’t tell you.

Then he placed a tender, chaste kiss on my forehead just before releasing the stopper on my catheter tube.

As soon as my bladder started to empty, a fresh orgasm took me.

My eyes started to roll into the back of my head from the overwhelming pleasure-pain, but just before I lost the ability to see, I recognized the remote control in his hand.

The piercings in my clit and nipples jumped to life, and I blacked out again.

After that, it was a long time before I saw him again.

I’m sure it was days. It might have been weeks.

Each time I would come to, I’d be restrained in some crazy position or another. Usually I was being fucked senseless by a cock or three. Sometimes it was dildos or other…well, other objects of unknown origins. Other times, I was being flogged, whipped, spanked, zapped, or in some other way punished. Or was it pleasured? It was difficult to know the difference any longer.

I was always experiencing an orgasm, though, or at least one started pretty fast.

I couldn’t tell you how many men I fucked or how many different positions I was placed in. They seemed to take me in turns, some of them resting and renewing their vigor while others continued to use me.

Sometimes I slept through it, like I’d learned to do. Other times, the intensity of sensation was more than my body could process and I blacked out.

The IV was a constant, as were the catheter and the feeding tube. I became increasingly proficient at breathing around objects, human or otherwise, that might have been blocking my airway.

Gradually, though, it seemed as though the number o
f men using me was diminishing. There were more non-human objects inserted into me, fewer hands touching me, not nearly as many voices in the background or men watching the show.

Was this ordeal finally coming to a close? I felt both relief and panic at the prospect. With my present predicament, at least I had some idea of what to expect each time I came back to consciousness. If it were to end, though… Anything could happen.

With each cock that pounded into my bruised ass, I attempted to savor its punishing force as it might be the last bit of pleasure my ass would see, or the next thing to enter me that way might be something far worse. Every time a dick forced itself into my cunt, I squeezed it to try to keep it inside me, relishing the unique size and shape, and the sensations only that particular cock could provide. I tried to memorize the taste of each man who fucked my throat, reveling in his cum as it coated my tongue. Even my catheter became a luxury, the fullness of my bladder providing a now familiar sensation I couldn’t get enough of in case it might disappear.

And then at one point, I knew it was pretty much the end. I came to in a pile-driver position, with my ankles bolted to the floor beside my head and my wrists drawn out as far in the opposite direction as they could go. The only sounds in the room were the swishes of the flogger as its falls swung toward my ass and my own struggling attempts to breathe.

I was alone with the man who was flogging me.

It was a sharp, stinging flogger, not one of the thudding ones. Each time the ends of the falls bit into my flesh, I jerked against my bonds and tried to burn the memory into my brain.

An inflatable cock gag was in my mouth, and he’d pumped it until it was fuller than it had ever been before, going as deep down my throat as any real cock had ever gone. It pressed against my throat walls with a glorious pressure.

Likewise, my ass was filled with an inflatable dildo. It was snaked through my bowels, filling me to the bursting point.

Each snap of the flogger made me increasingly more aware of how empty my pussy was, and how full my bladder was.

With a well-aimed blow, the flogger landed hard against my clit, and I screamed with the beginnings of another orgasm.

“Awake again, are you?”

I recognized his voice, deep and rich and husky. This man belonged to a magnificent thirteen-inch long erection, a cock that curved in just the perfect way to be able to pound home against my g-spot with deadly precision. I quivered in anticipation.

I didn’t have long to wait. Once he realized I was coherent again, he dropped the flogger and took his position over me, driving into me all the way to the hilt in a single motion.

He pounded down onto me so hard it drove my shoulders into the hard floor and I wondered that my neck didn’t break. Each movement he made brushed the head of his cock against my g-spot, and wave after wave of climax broke over me until I was drowning and didn’t want it to end.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reach over to a nearby table and grab something. Less than a second later, my piercings jolted to life.

It was the syringe, though, more than anything that really did me in.