Chapter 25 Hands & Knees #2
The second strike came before I had a chance to take a breath.
Again, I winced, and my body broke out in sweat.
My gaze swept to the counter as it changed from one to two.
It was unbelievable that this much agony had been generated by just two strikes, yet I was in for hundreds more.
I had tried to contain my reaction, but the hot pain throbbed through my skin deep into my muscles, yanking a long, loud groan.
Footsteps on the wooden stage announced when the next one was getting closer.
I panted twice and then whoosh! A piercing scream escaped me as my body quaked and cringed, trying to crawl through to the other side of the device.
Fat tears rolled down my cheek. I tilted my head back.
It was unbelievable. Three. Only three times and already I wanted to die.
The next one was even harder; I couldn’t stop grinding my teeth. My legs shook from having to stand on my toes. I held onto the wood, wanting to pull myself forward, running from the next one, but nothing helped. Wooooshhh! I couldn’t breathe as layers of pain stacked on top of one another.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” The scream devolved into wailing, only paused by the next assault stealing my breath.
I coughed, but that didn’t stop the next four men from striking.
Each footfall became a sign of more pain approaching.
I was losing my mind. There were seconds I was present and then others in which I could hear myself as if I were standing outside my body.
I yearned for more of the disconnect, but it was never enough.
The pain, my screams, my wailing, and weeping mixed.
By the fifteenth slap, my knees buckled, quaking violently.
The wood holding my neck and wrists choked me when my legs gave out.
Two sets of shoes rapped against the wooden floor of the stage.
Sir appeared before me. His expression was so angry, his eyebrows furrowed and tense, his eyes glaring at me, his mouth thinned into a line and his chin lifted at me.
Slowly his left eyebrow lifted while I was a blubbering mess.
“Stand up,” he commanded through his teeth.
My teeth chattered, but I still dared to sob, “You promised,” out on a whisper.
At my daring to pronounce two words it seemed like the entire crowd gasped.
I coughed with the most pathetic tears. His glare almost hid his surprise at me defiance.
The next strike was so harsh my legs gave out completely.
Please kill me, I begged with my wet eyes as the vision of him blurred.
Even after all that, I still hoped it was that he didn’t understand he was breaking my heart, not that he didn’t care.
Pathetic. Despite my choking once again, another strike came, then another and another.
The room around his face darkened and disappeared.
I was in a different position when I woke again, tied down on a breeding bench, so inclined I was almost upside down.
My butt crack was completely exposed with my legs on either side of the bench.
The throbbing on my butt cheeks never ceased.
When I lifted my gaze, I could only see the first row of girls because that was as far as I could tilt my head.
A wet, cold steel ball was pushed into my butt, stretching my walls so much any movement became painful. I had to breath in puffs.
The ambience was different. The men’s breathing and groaning filled the silence.
Within seconds, the paddle hit me, and my entire body tensed around whatever they’d filled my ass with.
With the next slap, I groaned, still not having had the chance to breathe.
The next swat barely made a sound, not hitting me as hard but still devastating to my welted skin.
I was thankful, oh-so grateful, but then it made the next one so much harder to withstand.
I wondered if another girl was being spanked at the same time as me because I could hear her tortured screeches.
The skin on my butt cheek broke, releasing blood that trailed down my thigh and leg but that didn’t hinder further spankings.
The girls in the first row stood, and for what seemed like seconds, I was left to feel the blood trailing from the broken skin on my cheeks. My eyes were swollen from sobbing so much. Then it all started again. Most of the girls didn’t hit as hard as the men, but there were a few who really tried.
After the last girl, a few minutes of silence filled the room, only broken by my panting and whimpering matching the rhythm at which my butt cheeks throbbed. A group of men walked closer to me and surrounded me. I could only see their shoes. Sir was among them.
The silence was so settled I heard a zipper being pulled down. When I looked back, I saw Sir naked. As his cock slowly slipped deeper and deeper, widening my hole, filling it, touching every part of my walls, the juices in my drenched pussy squelched loudly.
Again, I gasped and opened my eyes wide at how wet I was, and at him doing this in front of all these people. My cheeks burned at the sound of it. How could I be turned on after the devastating painful humiliation he’d just put me through?
“Jesus Christ, she’s already that wet?” some stranger asked.
“She likes pain,” Sir answered.
I furrowed my brow at the lie.
As it slid in oh-too easily, reaching even deeper than ever before, I groaned and shivered.
After hours of humiliating, excruciating agony, his cock was an unexpected, extreme comfort, especially at such a slow speed.
I didn’t understand why. My body had been more than ready for him, as he’d prefer, and he fitted into me too perfectly.
He waited, allowing me enough time to feel complete, connected to him, instead of just abused and destroyed.
I lowered my head to the bench, gripping the edges.
I couldn’t look at the girls, let them see how good it felt.
My eyes fluttered closed and stopped filling with tears.
He was doing it oh-so slowly, and I lied to myself, thinking it was because he wanted me to get used to him, he wanted to do something sweet when so much had been done wrong.
I won’t hurt you as long as you do as I say.
He hadn’t paddled me. He couldn’t hurt me himself, so he had to recruit all these men, make a show of it.
Yes, that’s what it must have been. And there he was, sweeping into me gently as if he were making love to me.
Deep down, I knew it was all a lie that I had to keep my eyes closed for, but if I didn’t believe it, I would lose all will to live.
Sir’s patience didn’t last. Having been so wet and tight with his cock in my pussy and the object in my ass, I quickly felt my insides tighten more and more around him. My pants, groans, and moans devolved into high-pitched whimpers accompanied by deep swallows with each thrust.
“You feel that, Little One? That’s your pussy thanking me for fucking you. Do you see now? How much you do like it? All these people can see it. You won’t be able to deny it now,” he said as he fucked me, panting.
Too soon, I needed him to stop so I could avoid the embarrassment of coming in front of all these people, but Sir could last forever.
Desperate screams rolled out of me as he fucked me deeper, faster.
It felt as if his cock were growing thicker and longer, but it was actually my pussy tightening, choking him.
I started holding my breath with the effort I was putting into resisting.
I knew he was growing annoyed at my determination to avoid it.
While plunging all the way in, he pulled at the object in my ass, then pushed it again.
Around me, multiple trails of cum landed on the stage.
The other men were coming from watching and hearing me screech from pleasure.
Their groans, moans and cussing filled my ears, but Sir had me at such a state that I was screeching.
I was wound so tight it hurt not to come.
My clit engorged, stiffened, throbbing, craving to be touched.
I bit my tongue to not beg him for it. He left the fattest part of the object at my entrance, overstretching it, and started fucking me again.
I remembered how good his tongue had felt, and a pressure filled my clit as if I were about to pee.
Sir held onto the object to keep my ass from swallowing it again while fucking me so hard he moaned with every thrust, and I tried to pull away despite the restraints, arching my back and screaming to the ceiling. I couldn’t hold it anymore.
“This is how whores like to be fucked. You like it? You like knowing all these men can see your asshole enjoying it? Show me how much you like it, Little One.” The second he said the nickname, liquid gushed from me.
My body convulsed as wave after wave of electrical all-consuming pleasure rolled through me oh-so violently while Sir pulled and pushed at the plug and fucked me with all his strength.
I sobbed, not just because of the longevity and intensity of the orgasm, but also the worthlessness that it confirmed.
I was nothing. Just a slave who liked being abused and fucked roughly.
Clapping accompanied my long groans as I spilled again and again.
Sir released the object, allowing my butt to swallow it.
The longer the orgasm lasted, the tighter I hooked onto the girth of his cock, and the more painful it became.
While I screeched and blubbered, my body kept puckering and opening, convulsing on him.
Nothing else existed but how good his cock felt, and how he sounded as he fucked me with it.
He had no mercy on me, thrusting so hard our bodies crashed into one another.
I screamed, and my body once again convulsed, leaving me wondering why I was still coming.
He hissed and released a high-pitched moan that pushed me.
“Oh no, no, no please no,” I heard myself cry at the pressure building again. Men gasped at how I spilled again.
Then I repeated the mistake of opening my eyes.
I was no longer in my delusion. Bright lights blinded me for a few seconds, but then I saw the reality.
I was on a stage with cameras on us while he fucked me, raped me like an animal, with men clapping in the audience and masturbating.
The smell of cum was nauseatingly thick in the air.
I allowed myself to collapse, closed my eyes, and lay there like a rag doll, silently weeping, wallowing in worthlessness and despair.
Never could I have imagined this would be my life.
There were only two thoughts that made me feel better: the idea of him doing this for show so everyone would believe I was nothing to him but his sex slave to train.
The second was concocting a plan for how I would do what I should have done years ago—kill him.
It was impossible to believe the beautiful lie, so eventually, I began planning how I would do it.
I only allowed myself to blink to inhibit shedding any more of my tears. When I opened my eyes, I stared into the abyss. When he walked away, cold air caressed my bleeding cheeks, torturing me. Despite my puckering, his cum slipped out onto the bench. Men cheered, clapped, and whistled.
I grimaced at the sound of all the shoes hitting the stage as they walked around doing I had no idea what. Were they going to hit me again? Were they going to rape me too?
They were walking toward me. No! No, please don’t.
The rest of the auditorium was emptying, and when I looked around, Sir was nowhere to be found.