|
TODAY'S FREE BONDAGE STORY |
|
“I had a very normal reaction when the drug wore off and I woke up with a stranger on top of me pounding away. I started screaming my head off. His reaction was normal, too.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” said Oscar delivering an open palm slap to my face stunning me.
The whole side of my head went numb and I tasted blood in my mouth. I inhaled to resume screaming, causing Oscar to draw his fist back threatening me. “You don’t shut up; I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.”
In spite of the drug hangover resulting in a pounding headache, my survival instincts kicked in and I closed my mouth and was quiet as I observed he was black, heavily muscled and covered in skin art, the kind you get in prison. He was also well endowed and giving me a good railing. At the moment, he was pulling all the way out then slamming it home. His cock head was bouncing off my cervix causing me to grunt in pain on every stroke.
Looking back, it was all a rape should be.
Sensing that I now understood who was in charge, Oscar issued another order. “Wrap your legs around me and give me a good fuck or I’ll break your face.”
I momentarily considered telling him to go fuck himself but decided that might cost me my incisors. He was already inside me so what was the point of being defiant. My arms were tied to the headboard but my legs were free so I wrapped them around his waist and squeezed then began pulling him into me. “Don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you want.” I’m anything but brave.
“She’s your bitch, now, Oscar,” said a man standing by the bed. I hadn’t noticed him until he spoke. When I turned in his direction, I saw a well built blonde man slowly stroking his semi-hard cock. He was naked except for white socks. He looked to be in his twenties and the arm I could see was covered with tattoos. When he saw me looking, he pointed his cock in my direction and stroked faster as he informed me of his place in line. “I’m next bitch. I’m going to split you wide open.”
“Hurry up, Oscar, I want a piece before Sergei arrives,” said a voice past the standing man. When I turned my head as far as it would go, I saw two more men seated at a table. There was a six pack of beer on the table and they were both drinking. The term, gang rape, popped into my head along with the realization that I had purchased that six pack. I had been coming out of the market when they grabbed me and stuck a needle in my arm. I went out almost immediately.
“He won’t be here until after dark, Mel. You can screw her until your dick falls off,” said Oscar as he ground his pubic bone against my clit causing me to moan.
Rape was new to me. I’d been pressured several times to put out when I was in the service; but I didn’t call that rape. It was sexual harassment not that I made any formal complaints. Since your technical sergeant can make your life pure hell, it’s better to give him what he wants and forget it. Mine were actually nice guys who were horny and away from home like me. So when they told me what they expected, I shouted, “Yes Sir, Technical Sergeant and fell to my knees.”
That was in a combat zone and the rules are different. When you’re worried about an insurgent sniper blowing the top of your head off, giving head is not all that important. Plus the sex was relaxing and got my mind off the fucking war.
“Bitch loves your cock, Oscar. Make her moan again,” said the blonde now fully erect.
Oscar pushed hard against my love button and twisted his hips as he let out a whoop. Anxious to please, I screamed, “Oh fuck yes,” as he got ready to pump his load in my vagina. I had already checked. It was bare back.
According to my late husband, I’m a noisy excitable lover with a tendency to talk dirty. I moaned and groaned in response to the pressure before whispering, “Fuck that pussy. Fuck it hard.” That must have excited Oscar because he doubled his pace.
“All most there, keep pumping,” said Oscar raising up to cradle my knee pits in his elbows. He started pounding away forcing me to grunt each time he slammed it home. My ankles locked around his waist pulling him into me as my hands grasped his buttocks. I was on autopilot hoping a good fuck would keep me alive or at least delay my death.
“We lucked out guys. Stupid cunt likes to be raped,” said Billy moving closer to the bed. I could see the excitement and lust in his eyes.
I’d never been raped before. I’d been to several classes about how to defend against a rapist. You were supposed to fight back, scream for help, and get in touch with your violent self. Kicking them in the balls was taught and practiced on a well padded instructor. All that seemed irrelevant. There were four of them and they were young, strong and armed with semi-automatics. I was more interested in staying alive than saving my honor.
I took a moment to collect my thoughts. My immediate situation was dire to say the least. I was tied to a dirty bed in what appeared to be an abandoned industrial building. The light slanting through the windows indicated it was mid afternoon. A black man with a shaved head and a ripped physique was raping me. Three other men, one back and two white, were waiting their turn.
The odd thought popped into my head that I could get pregnant. My late husband, Dan, and I had been trying to have a baby for the last three months, so I was off the pill. He had died in a boating accident two weeks ago. At least they called it an accident when it first happened. Since it was our boat and I knew Dan was on it when it exploded, I assumed he was dead.
But the other day, two FBI agents dropped by to tell me they had found traces of military grade explosives on the wreckage. They also said they’d found DNA evidence from three different men none of whom were Dan. They were still looking for DNA evidence to prove he was among the deceased.
For some reason, I suspected there was a relationship between Dan’s death and what was happening to me. The fact that the FBI was involved seemed wrong for a local boating accident. But no one was telling me shit so I was left to speculate.
A second scarier possibility came to mind. I wasn’t blindfolded. I could identify Oscar and the others so I was a potential witness. I’d watched enough cop shows on TV to know there was a good possibility I was going to end up with a bullet in my head after they finished.
Oscar interrupted my train of thought by covering my mouth with his. When his tongue slipped inside, I intertwined it with mine. It wasn’t passion. I was scared shitless. I hugged him to me as I whispered, “Fill my pussy with your hot come, motherfucker.”
A half dozen pounding thrusts ending in a loud male gasp and my vagina was filled for the first time in years with semen other than my Dan’s. Oscar rolled off me breathing hard. I was covered in his sweat.
“How was she?” asked one of the men at the table.
“Pussy’s pussy,” said Oscar slowing getting up. He picked up something off the floor that turned out to be my skirt and wiped his cock dry before leaving the room to, in his words, take a much needed piss.
“Anyone have any condoms?” asked the blonde man sitting down on the edge of the small bed and placing his hand on my breast and squeezing.
“What the fuck you need a condom for, Billy?” asked one of the seated men. “You think a housewife from the burbs is going to give you the clap?”
“More likely, Billy gives it to her,” said the other man causing both to laugh.
“We’re the ones who should be using condoms after you’ve fucked her pussy,” said the other.
“I guess I don’t need it,” said Billy climbing on top of me straddling my chest.
“Suck it, slut,” said Billy placing his cock against my lips.
Performing fellatio on your back with your arms tied over your head doesn’t work. It required I hold my head up straining my neck causing me to frequently rest my head on the bed.
“Untie me,” I pleaded.
“Think Oscar would mind if I untied her, Mel,” asked Billy reacting to the unsatisfactory result. “I need a regular BJ.”
“Don’t see why. She can’t very well run off,” said Mel the other black man.
Minutes later, I was kneeling beside the bed, thankful the blood was flowing back into my arms. Billy was lying across it with his legs spread and I was performing fellatio. I pushed aside all the thoughts about how humiliating this was and how degraded I felt. It wasn’t the cleanest and most pleasant smelling cock I’d ever put in my mouth.
“Play my Rusty Trombone,” said Bill reaching for his calves to pull his legs toward his chest. As it turned out, I go to practice my trombone playing a lot that afternoon.
When he raised his legs to give me access to his asshole, the smell of dried shit caused a wave of nausea to sweep over me. But I was out of options, so I ordered my stomach to calm down while I stroked his cock and licked the shit off his asshole.
“Eat my ass, bitch, lick it clean,” said Billy and I did. These guys were serious mother fuckers and licking their shit holes clean was better than getting a bullet in the brain.
It was the kind of dirty sex common when I was in the service. But that was year’s ago. Dan was a fastidiously clean person who wouldn’t have dreamed of asking me to put my mouth on his butt unless it sparkled. But pleasing Billy was the only option I had. The two sitting at the table were wearing lethal semi automatic pistols in shoulder holsters. I didn’t think shooting me would cause them to lose any sleep.
I rimmed his butt until it shone then switched back to sucking his cock. Applying experience gained since middle school, I massaged his testicles and stroked the shaft while my mouth engulfed the top third. My tongue and lips were very busy. I made be a suburban housewife but I know how to suck a cock.
“What’s your name, bitch?” asked Billy.
“Marlene, but I go by Marnie,” I said taking his cock out of mouth to talk.
“How old are you?” asked Billy.
“Thirty one,” I answered. My purse was lying on the table and my billfold was open. They’d seen my driver’s license. Maybe Billy had short term memory problems.
“You going to ask her for a date or get your cock sucked,” asked Mel who had left the table for a closer view.
“You got a nice pair on you, Marnie,” said Mel reaching both arms over my shoulder to squeeze my breasts.
“On the bed Marnie, for doggie style,” said Billy sitting up. He was rock hard and ready for phase two.
I groaned as Billy’s cock slid in my vagina. He was also well-endowed. I was on my knees and elbows facing the top of the bed.
“Hear that, she loves my dick,” said Billy.
“Here, honey, show me how much you love mine,” said Mel who was now standing at the head of the bed offering his black cock to my mouth.
My last double penetration was at Camp Balad outside Baghdad when my unit finally got orders to return to LeJeune. They’d extended our stay twice. Someone came up with several gallons of home brew to get the party started. I wound up along with the other females soldiers getting plowed in all three orifices at the same time.
As a civilian and Dan’s wife, I had been strictly monogamous and faithful, no threesomes.
I moved slightly forward to take Mel’s fat uncircumcised penis in my mouth.
I heard the sound of someone expectorating and felt the slimy liquid land on my butt. Billy’s finger smeared it over my sphincter then pushed inside none too gently. Dan occasionally stuck his finger in my ass while he ate me or fucked me from the rear but he was my husband and gentle about it.
I ignored the pain, concentrating on sucking Mel and fucking Billy. Billy didn’t last long. His hands gripped my flanks creating leverage to slam into me so hard I felt like screaming. As he came, he wedged a second finger in my ass causing me to gasp with pain. Seconds later, his sweat covered body collapsed across my back pressing me into the filthy mattress.
“Lay on your back with your head hanging down,” said Stan, the fourth guy, who along with Mel turned out to be the sadists of the four.
I wasn’t sure what Stan wanted so I hesitated a moment. He turned out to be the impatient type.
“This way, cunt,” said Stan grabbing my blonde hair to yank me painfully in position.
“Start with a little tea bagging,” said Stan lowering his hairy balls to my mouth.
Familiar with the term, I took one of his testicles in my mouth and gently sucked it. Mel appeared beside Stan. He reached down to grab one of my nipples between two fingers. He was a big strong guy and it hurt like hell when he flattened it then dug his nails in the soft flesh.
When I opened my mouth to protest, Stan rammed his cock down my throat, choking me. They took turns fucking my throat and torturing my breasts until I was in agony. Somehow in spite of the pain, I stayed in control until first Stan and then Mel ejaculated down my gullet.
Oscar gave me a bottle of water to drink as laid down on the bed with his legs spread indicating fellatio was expected. Feeling dehydrated, I took several swallows before getting into position. I began by teasing his piss hole with the tip of my tongue.
“Play my Rusty Trombone,” said Oscar reaching up to grab his insteps. He pulled his legs back over his head giving me access to his sphincter. My spit covered hand worked his shaft while my tongue windshield wiped his none too clean anus. It was the kind of nasty pig sex a woman only does on three occasions: (1) wedding, (2) drunk out of her mind, (3) being raped.
Maybe knowing my background will help explain why I wasn’t acting like a screaming, terrified female experiencing her first brutal gang rape.
I was born outside of St. Paul, Minnesota of good Norwegian stock from whom I inherited my 5’11” height, fair complexion, and straw blonde hair. Mother taught elementary school while Dad struggled with a small dairy farm. Opportunities were scare when I finished high school so I joined the US Marines on my nineteen birthday. During my six years in the Corps, I served two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan.
I came out with enough cash and credits to spend my next three years getting a business degree at University of Minnesota Duluth. I got a job at a local paper mill after I graduated.
A friend persuaded me to join her in trying an online match making service, the kind where you answer a thousand questions to guarantee you’ll meet Mr. Right. Most of the guys weren’t even close to Mr. Good Enough. But one of them was Daniel Wagner and he was Mr. Perfect as far as I was concerned.
Dan was once divorced, eight years my senior, and the owner of Metals Recovery (MR Inc), a business he started right out of college. MR Inc purchased high value scrap which it melted down for the precious metals used in its manufacture. For example, there is a tiny amount of gold in personal computer logic boards.
Dan was good looking and charming and I fell in love with him. We dated for three months before we got engaged. We had a small wedding mostly with my relatives. Dan’s parents died while he was in grade school. He was raised by a succession of foster parents. He had no living relatives I was aware of.
MR Inc was profitable enough we could afford a nice home on Lake Superior and a forty foot boat where Dan could pursue his love of fishing. I quit work to take care of the house and concentrate on having a family. Dan traveled frequently on business so I had time to pursue my hobby which is fitness. I finished in the top five the last three years in the Mrs. Fitness USA finals in Las Vegas.
The point I’m trying to make is that six years in the service and experiencing combat made me tougher than most mentally; and fitness competitions have kept me in shape to endure physically. |
| |
|
