AUTHOR = Katherine English
E-MAIL = katherine_english@yahoo.com
| EDITOR's NOTE - Part one of this story can be found at: Chapter 1. |
Chapter 2
Tony, for that appeared to be The Suit's name, had been more than a receptive audience to the whole scene. His pants, now distorted immeasurably, stood out in crude relief before him... his hand rubbing slowly against the ominous bulge between his legs.
His smile, cold and menacing, now took on new dimensions as he crossed to the far side of the table and began to untie my wrists. With a grunt, he reached forward and, with rough jerking motions, yanked my bra and dress over my head and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor at his feet.
Then, circling behind me, he took a roll of duct tape and bound my arms... hand against elbow... tightly behind my back until my shoulder blades creaked in pain. I felt his tongue against my right buttock as he bent low and, in short order, I found my ankles once more free, my panties hanging limply between my thighs.
"On your knees, Bitch!" he ordered, his hand twisting painfully in my hair.
Relentlessly, he forced me downward until I found myself on the cold cement floor, my face pressed against the metallic teeth of his zipper.
I cringed. Did he want me to...?
He reached down, taking my painfully bruised cheeks in his hands. "Open your mouth, Bitch. I've got something for you," he laughed. "And you'd better play nice... no teeth, or you'll wish you'd never been born!"
My stomach began to revolt. I couldn't! Even when Randy had asked, I hadn't placed his (that word again!) "cock" in my mouth! Oh please... let me be wrong... let me be wrong....
But I wasn't.
Slowly, Tony slid his zipper downward, reaching inside with his right hand and releasing his huge, heavily engorged sex.
"OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" he ordered once more, mashing my closed and trembling lips against his hardened flesh. "NOW!"
Again he twisted my hair, tearing at the roots until I felt that surely it would all come away in his hand. My lips parted, an exclamation of pain escaping into the room... and that was when he entered me.
Roughly, he forced me against him, his swollen member thrusting savagely into my throat, the musky smell of him filling my nostrils. I gagged, my body revolting under his assault, the gorge rising into my mouth.
Suddenly, uncontrollably, I began to vomit, the foul smelling offal flowing from my lips down the front of Tony's pants... across my breasts... down into the panties cupped between my knees.
"You fuckin' Bitch!" he screamed, backing away from my quivering form. "Look what you did! Do you know how much this suit costs? A hell of a lot more than you do!"
He lashed out with his right foot, catching me squarely in the stomach, and I fell against the floor, lost in a world of airless anguish. Livid with anger, he tore the panties, fouled and rank from my helpless body, and shoved them into my mouth, securing them with a length of duct tape.
"You're gonna pay for that, Bitch!" he snarled, wiping the flecks of my vomit from his suit with my dress. "I'm gonna make you beg to suck me next time... and you will. Believe me. Before I'm done you'll think this prick is the best thing that ever happened to you!" he grinned sadistically. "Throw her in the box," he ordered.
Suddenly, I felt myself being dragged to my feet... slender fingers forcing me forward until I was bent over and shoved abruptly into what appeared to be a packing crate about five feet high and eight feet long. The "door" was then slammed shut behind me, and I heard a lock click into place.
It was dark inside... a world of blackness, the air stale and thick. I tried to stand, but found the height too confining... the naked flesh of my back abraded by the rough, slivered surface of the wood above.
And so I sat... my cowering form pressed into a corner.. my mind searching the inky blackness for a glimpse of light... the sound of humanity beyond... but it seemed hopeless.
Time passed. How long? An hour? A day? Longer?
My mouth, fouled by the taste of my panties became pasty, my throat painfully dry... the air around me stifling and heavy. I closed my eyes. Would they return? Had I been left here to die? Was this, then, the revenge to which Tony had alluded?
Fitfully, I slept, moaning softly against the gag which tormented my lips and tongue. When I awoke, I found that something, either the moisture from my tears or the occasional dampness of saliva, had loosened the tape over my mouth. Frantically, I worked my lips against the adhesive until, finally, I felt it give way and fall limply to one side.
Choking, I spat the remains of my once-favorite panties onto the floor of the crate, their allure now tarnished and forgotten. "Hello?" I called, the sound of my voice dry and strangled. "Is anyone there? Please... answer me...." I cried.
I sat in silence... listening... listening... until finally from out of the void came a sound.
"Hello?" it taunted. "Is anyone there... there... there?"
The Voice, hollow and remote, echoed through the gloom, sending unknown fear throughout my body. My skin prickled.
"Hello?" I called again, almost fearing the response.
And again the unearthly echo resounded around me, "Hello?" (a low chuckle). "Hello... hello... hellooooo...."
I pressed my body against the back of the box, struggling once more against my bonds, defenseless against the Voice that invaded my mind.
In desperation I tried one last time. "Who are you?" I whispered. "Can you help me?"
This time the Voice was close... whispering in my ear... caressing my quivering flesh. "Who... are... you...?" it mimicked. "Who... are... you...? Help... me... help... me...."
Again I whimpered. Was I going mad? Had I lost my mind? How long had I been here? How long since I'd had anything to eat or drink? Was this what it felt like to die?
Time wore on... how long I never knew. Eventually, a small portal appeared within the dim recesses of my tomb, a tiny opening through which a crust of bread and the hard, metallic nozzle of a hose were thrust, its cold offering drenching me, but keeping me alive. Throughout this ordeal, the voices, ever present, mocked me incessantly... decrying my lack of human contact... reveling in my terror as they whispered vile torments against my quivering flesh until I was certain that I must once again join the living or lose my mind.
During this period, my body, starved and dehydrated, had failed to function in its normal capacity, and I was at least spared the ignominy of having to relieve myself in the black confines of my prison... but this was not to last. Eventually, even that became a torment as the need to urinate became more and more a demand, fairly screaming in my ears, causing my stomach to cramp and tiny trickles to escape down my thighs.
Again I braved the darkness... the voices... and leaned against the doorway, my parched lips pressed against the wood, hoping for a miracle.
"Please," I whispered, "Please... I have to... pee. Please... can you let me out?!"
(silence)
"Please!" I begged, as my stomach began to cramp painfully, "PLEASE... let me out... I can't...."
A sound?
Could there be someone out there, or were my voices playing tricks on me once again? I shivered at the thought, another tiny gush slipping between my thighs and pooling on the floor between my knees.
Finally, I heard the rapping of heels on the pavement beyond. Stephanie? Could it be the sadistic woman in red who had so painfully degraded me upon my arrival?
Suddenly, I heard the lock click... the door being wrenched outward, and I was at once blinded by the light of the outside world.
The glare, painful at first, soon became secondary as I was dragged to my feet by my captor, her hands grasping my hair, slipping a vile-smelling hood over my head, leading me painfully from the box.
She spoke not a word as she led me across the floor, until finally a door opened and I felt the coldness of ceramic tile beneath my feet. Again I was propelled forward until her hands, long-nailed and chill, forced me down upon the seat of a toilet.
I wanted to pee... needed to pee, but suddenly the vision of Stephanie, her hand down the front of her skirt, filled my mind, and my body refused to obey my command. Was she watching? Was I again a source of... amusement? Dare I ask for a second's worth of privacy?
"I-I c-can't, " I whispered. "Could I be... alone... for just a second... please?" I whined.
Stephanie (for that's who it was), chuckled, her voice low and seductive. "What's the matter, little girl? Can't do it with an audience? Here... let me help you...."
Suddenly, I smelled her perfume... close... against me... her hand thrust between my legs... her fingers parting my auburn thatch... probing...violating....
"In my hand, Amy... NOW!" she demanded. "It's that, or you can do it in your box, Bitch! DO IT!"
At the mention of my "box" my muscles released, and in a hot, steaming gush my urine flowed into Stephanie's hand.
"Come on," she urged, "I know you have more... keep it coming, you nasty girl... I want it all."
I felt a flush of humiliation creep across my face beneath the hood. I'd been used again... once more fodder for this sick, sadistic woman's desires. Would this ever end? Would Stephanie ever....
"Playing nicely, girls?' a male voice commented. Tony! I'd have known his voice anywhere. He chuckled, his voice dusky with intent. "Why this little girl is filthy, Stephanie! We need to keep our merchandise in good condition. Get me the hose."
Dimly, I heard the staccato of Stephanie's heels against the tile as Tony removed the hood and grasped my hair, pulling me from the toilet cubicle. His hands, large and brutal, propelled me across the room, pressing me face-first against the cold tiled wall beside a urinal.
The light... glaring and painful, pierced my consciousness as be began stripping the tape from my arms. Finally, free at last. I gasped at my good fortune. I was being released... or was I?
"Hose her down," he ordered, and immediately I felt the icy blast of the hose once again... this time shooting full-force against my tender flesh... tearing in thin cutting streams against my face... my breasts... between my legs. I turned against the wall to protect myself, and felt the force of the stream penetrate savagely between my buttocks.
I gasped... a scream of both shock and pain permeating the tiled chamber. Then Tony, his clothing folded and laying neatly on the countertop on the far side of the room, approached me once more.
"Are you a dirty girl, Amy?" he murmured against my hair, his hands pressing me against the cold wall, my breasts squashed painfully against the tile. "Shall I clean you up... or would you like to go back to your box now?" he asked, his voice mocking... taunting.
I shivered... THE BOX! I couldn't! The voices... the darkness....
"Yes," I whispered through my chattering teeth, "...clean.... me."
"Then ask me nicely, Bitch!" he grumbled. "Or better yet... beg."
I cringed, a small revolution being waged within me... but I couldn't go back... I couldn't. The black desperation of my confinement whispered in my ears, "The Box, Amy.... The Box...." and I knew what I had to do.
"Please, Tony... please. Clean me... I'm begging you... I want it. Please... help me."
(A pause)
Then, from somewhere nearby I heard the tear of paper, then the smell of something familiar. Soap? Irish Spring? I whimpered... something from home... here... in hell. How could it be?
His left hand against the back of my neck, Tony pressed me once more against the wall and began to roughly slide the soap over my shoulders and down the length of my back. Then he came to my buttocks.
"Spread your legs, Bitch," he ordered, forcing the bar of soap along the crack between my cheeks. "And smile... I'm doing you a favor!"
Visions of the box began to taunt me once more as I slid my right leg to the side and allowed his vile fingers to thrust deep within the crevice of my body, a grim smile pasted across my ravaged face.
"Nice ass, Bitch, I like," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Now turn around and keep 'em spread."
Trembling, I turned to find Tony, his massive cock (for I had ceased to think of it as anything but "cock" at this juncture) fully erect and straining for release. I shivered. Could I do what was expected of me... could I?
Again Tony began to slide the bar of Irish Spring across my body, massaging my breasts, sliding his brutal hands over my nipples... pinching and twisting beneath the thin guise of hygiene.
Then, a sadistic smile curling his lips, he shoved the bar of soap between my legs once more, first lathering my curly patch, then thrusting savagely deep inside.
I cried out both in surprise and humiliation. "NO! DON'T!" I screamed, attempting futilely to suppress the words as they escaped my lips. But it was too late.
"Don't? ...DON'T!" he roared.
"I'm sorry...." I cried. "Please... I'm so sorry!"
But Tony was no longer listening. Instead, Samantha began rinsing the soap from my body and attaching a heavy collar to my neck... leather with steel rings inset into the center. Then, turning me once more toward the wall, she bound my wrists behind and attached a short leash... securing it to the collar above, twisting my hands painfully upward until they throbbed in misery.
"So... you still think you're too good for all of this......" Tony murmured, his voice bare and naked in the echo of the room. "We'll see what another tour of duty in the box will do for you... but first...."
Frantic, I began to plead... beg for another chance. I turned and, falling to my knees, I opened my mouth hoping that the act I had so reviled would prove to be my salvation. But Tony was not to be placated. Instead, he stood before me, his hand working slowly along the length of his cock... murmuring, "Too late, Bitch... too late."
Suddenly, a flood of hot slime shot forth from his cock, filling my eyes, covering my nose and mouth... dripping from my chin onto my breasts. Once more I cried out in humiliation, but he only laughed.
"Take her to the other box," he ordered, "...and leave her there."
THE END (not yet) go to Chapter 3
