Claire woke up in bed, on her left side, between her captors.
The teacher snored quietly behind her, to Claire’s right. The girl felt the horrid woman’s rear and shoulder blades pressing against her bound arms. But that was above and beyond the primary shock.
All the girl wore was a sheer, backless, pink lace, plunge-necked, micromini, halter babydoll.
Her forearms were strapped horizontally behind her with what felt like bandage. A padded strap, buckled tightly behind her head, sunk deep into her mouth, wrenching back her luscious lips.
Claire’s eyes fluttered, then snapped open when she realized that the deliveryman was pressed against her – one hand contorting her right breast, and the other holding her head as he slavered her mouth and throat.
Omigod, she thought in horror, her eyes widening. He’s making out with me.
Her eyes rolled, brow furrowing, as his salivating lips and slimy tongue mashed her mouth.
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Trying out
Coacher
Randal hated his wife, Sonia; she was fat, undersexed and a total pain in his ass. Unfortunately she was also an heiress to a multibillion dollar company and the damn prenuptial agreement he signed meant he’d lose access to her fortune. Fortunately he knew a person who knew a person that knew how to contact the Coachers. After setting up an alibi of a three month vacation in the Caribbean, Randal delivered his wife to the Coachers.
From then on she was on a strict diet and daily schedule. Every morning she’d get on treadmill and run while one of the Coaches whipped her across the ass whenever she dared to slowdown. Afternoon was two hours of deepthroat training, choking on three thick cocks over and over again while she begged for it to stop. Then she’d have a salad for dinner before going to bed and getting double and triple penetrated in a gangbang that would last until sunrise, and leave her exhausted when she had to repeat it all the next day.
Now Sonia was back with her husband Randal, with the constant threat of a repeat visit making sure she stays quiet. Now she was back, on her back, with Randal preparing to sample her newly trained pussy.
“Please…fuck me, Randal. I love you! I love you! Just… don’t send me back!” Sonia begged.
Tiffany’s arms were burning and sweat was stinging her eyes as it poured down her face.
“Please…please I can’t! I can’t!” Tiffany cried, as her arms were jerked back by the weights she was strapped to. “NIIIEEEEARRGGHHH! PLEASE! DON’T!”
“You have forty more reps to go! Keep pulling on those weights and I’ll stop skinning your ass with my belt!” Coach Brick said. “Come on!”
“STOP! I can’t do this while you’re hitting me!” Tiffany screamed. She’d lost count of the number of times he’d hit her with his damn flogger, and her back and ass were burning. She was a professional trainer, so she was no stranger to intense workouts, but this was just too horrible.
“Come on slut, the faster you finish your exercises, the sooner you and I can go to bed. I know your pussy is sore from last night’s fuck session, so I’ve got a treat for you… tonight I’m just gonna give you a dildo. And then you’re gonna masturbate for me all night. Oh, and the dildo is fashioned after a horse cock…and I’m gonna make you shove the whole thing in your cunt. So hurry up and lift!”
Women degraded by whips
Praetor Carvonus ran his fingers along the red welts blooming on his Dacian slave’s tiny tits, pinching and scratching them to make the girl’s tiny frame shudder on the cross. Decebalus’s Dacian army had been utterly crushed, and the fine women they had captured were now the spoils of war.
A few feet away a gorgeous blonde woman was struggling to walk as she was forced to hold the heavy wooden pole across her slender shoulders and two centurions whipped at her bare ass.
“Faster honey, I want you lathered up like a horse when I bust your cunt with my cock!” One of the centurions laughed.
“Please, let me fuck you now! I can’t hold this! PLEASE!” She whimpered.
Carvonus smiled, and forced two fingers into his slave’s dry cunt, brutally forcing open her reluctant hole.
“Ngggghhh!” She whined.
The Roman expertly struck her right across her puffy red nipples, driving them back into her chest like hammered nails and watching them rebound, swelling with welts.
“NOOOOOOO!”
The two Romans began alternating their strokes, first across her abused cunt, then across her tits and back and forth it went. Never giving her time to recover, striking her while she was still screaming from the earlier blow. Soon her tits and pussy were completely covered in welts.
“Open up whore, it’s time to swallow some Roman cock. My friend is going to keep whipping your filthy slit until I cum, and if you dare bite me, I’ll have him burn off your clit. Understand?”
The soldier didn’t even wait for her to reply, instead shoving himself balls deep in her throat and groaning with pleasure as she screamed around his cock…
The pits of hell – You are sexy when you scream
As the marks of his whip burned in lines across their tender flesh, the girls watched as the fat, ugly face of their tormentor with its crooked-toothed grin slobbered all over their naked pain. The man’s face and the huge erection made clear to the miserable captives how pleased Sanchez was to be inflicting agony on helpless girls.
The terror Madison felt at the cruel control the man had over her body floated upon a puddle of humiliation the girl felt at the obscene exposure of her pussy to the man’s crazed lust. As Sanchez beat her friend’s tits, Madison saw how her waxed-smooth mound was vulnerable to his pig eyes and how it would be just as vulnerable to the bite of the whip if Sanchez chose to direct the leather there.
“See what your suffering does to me, slut? It turns my prick into an iron bar, all the better to rape you with later! It must feel like I’ve whipped your tits for hours, but it has only been minutes.
“Cry for me, whore! Seeing those fat tears run down your arrogant fucking face is the reason I endured years in a prison hellhole. I knew every day I survived I was that much closer to grabbing a bitch like you and making her pay for all the teasing, making her pay for all the times she gave me a hard on that she would never, ever consider satisfying. And now you are that bitch!
“Feel my whip cutting into your skin, punishing your proud tits! This is revenge for wearing those tight tank tops to flaunt your firm rack in the gym. All those aerobics classes with your sacks of breast meat jiggling left and right… Now I have you in my cellar and you follow my rules!”
She blinked, her deep eyes gleaming
The place was a simple two-story tract house with a finished basement on a normal suburban street that ran parallel to a main thoroughfare full of mini-malls, big-box stores, and chain restaurants. BDSM Art is here.
In fact, the first thing Claire saw, when her big, wide, eyes opened, was a home goods store in the late afternoon sun. That vision gave way to trees, then houses, and finally a two-car garage at the end of a driveway.
Claire’s popping brown eyes shot down to see that her breasts were barely contained by the way her torn shirt was knotted together, her chest flesh bulging out the top, sides, and bottom. What remained of her pleated skirt was pinned at her right hip, becoming little more than a plaid loincloth. Her leggings were m.i.a. but her high heel ankle boots were still tightly covering her feet. She saw the expertly secured straps at her ankles and knees. She could feel the cords at her wrists and elbows.
“You’re supple,” he giggled. “You can put your arms together behind your back as easy as pie. Can’t wait to try a reverse prayer on you….”
She tried to plead with her voice, hands, and body, but all she accomplished was making her tits protrude even more.
“Now, now, don’t beg,” he soothed. “I’ll fuck you again soon enough, I promise.”
Claire slammed back as far away from him as she could, screeching with all her might, tears all but exploding out of her eyes. He just laughed, pulling the van into the garage. He touched the button on the box clipped to the window-shade, and the garage door started lowering behind them. Suddenly Claire realized that she was well and truly trapped, but before the full import could sink in, he was gone, and the driver’s side door was slamming shut. 3D BDSM stories are here!
A light touch
He had been fascinated by Maxima’s cunt, which responded immediately to the touch by producing a sweet-smelling oily secretion. The cunt-juice made his head spin, he said, and gave him a hard-on like the stone phallus that pointed the way to the whorehouse in the street. He was also fascinated by the girl’s noisy orgasms which seemed to get stronger and louder the more he whipped her ass and flogged her breasts with leather straps and canes.
Maxima had become the star turn at his dinner parties, where a special platform had been constructed for her. The platform was a kind of bed on very tall legs. Maxima was tied to it in different ways and guests sat underneath her. The height of the bed could be adjusted, and there were wide gaps in the wooden struts so that the guests could see her.
Maxima was tied in different ways and placed at different heights above the guests. If she lay on her front, her heavy breasts hung enticingly through two holes and swung over the table as if they had a life of their own. They could be slapped or caned at the guests’ discretion. Sometimes the guests covered them in meat juice and sucked them before they flogged them.
There was also a large hole in the bed immediately below Maxima’s cunt. Winners at dice games were allowed to masturbate her in any way they wished. They normally did this with fingers of fruit or tongues. The drunken and horny guests were fascinated by her shouts and by the way she squirted over them when she had an orgasm.
They called her Flavia now. She had been caught when her village on the south coast of Gaul was attacked by Arab pirates one night. She was later sold to a Roman slave trader. She knew nothing about her future life as a slave because enslaved women never came back to tell their story…
Flavia had been with her Marius, her Master, for a week now. During that week she had spent a lot of time working naked in the house all day, often in the kitchen. Marius was a bachelor and he wanted a slave who could cook.
Flavia had also spent a lot of time naked sucking her Master’s cock. He rarely beat her when she was working in the house, but every time she sucked his cock he slapped her with a horrible stick rod made of dry twisted leather. It cut into her and stung badly.
When he beat her, he sometimes spoke one word at a time and hit her to emphasize his words…
“Keep… sucking… bitch!” he said, with three blows on her buttocks. “And stop this light-fingered stuff!”
SLAAAAAAAAAAP!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHH!!! YES, MASTER!”
SUCK! SUCK!
“I… want… to have… an orgasm, you stupid slut! Do… you… understand?”
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHH!!! Yes, Master!”
“If you just suck the end of my cock, we’ll be here all month. And three fingers are not going to help much either!”
You are sexy when you scream
As the marks of his whip burned in lines across their tender flesh, the girls watched as the fat, ugly face of their tormentor with its crooked-toothed grin slobbered all over their naked pain. The man’s face and the huge erection made clear to the miserable captives how pleased Sanchez was to be inflicting agony on helpless girls.
The terror Madison felt at the cruel control the man had over her body floated upon a puddle of humiliation the girl felt at the obscene exposure of her pussy to the man’s crazed lust. As Sanchez beat her friend’s tits, Madison saw how her waxed-smooth mound was vulnerable to his pig eyes and how it would be just as vulnerable to the bite of the whip if Sanchez chose to direct the leather there.
In their thoughts both girls were reduced to a primal hope that the man would spend his time hurting her friend and leaving her alone.
Stop, you sick bastard, stop! My breasts are burning! He’s going to whip them off of my body!
“See what your suffering does to me, slut? It turns my prick into an iron bar, all the better to rape you with later! It must feel like I’ve whipped your tits for hours, but it has only been minutes.
“Cry for me, whore! Seeing those fat tears run down your arrogant fucking face is the reason I endured years in a prison hellhole. I knew every day I survived I was that much closer to grabbing a bitch like you and making her pay for all the teasing, making her pay for all the times she gave me a hard on that she would never, ever consider satisfying. And now you are that bitch!
“Feel my whip cutting into your skin, punishing your proud tits! This is revenge for wearing those tight tank tops to flaunt your firm rack in the gym. All those aerobics classes with your sacks of breast meat jiggling left and right… Now I have you in my cellar and you follow my rules!”
She screamed through the gag
“Noooo! Pleeeaasseee! Not again! PLEASE!” Natalie Hunter screamed as Lord Vicious swung open the door of her cell. “Don’t whip me again! Please! I can’t take it anymore!”
Every four hours Natalie was dragged out of her cell, strung up naked and shivering in Lord Vicious’s dungeon, and then brutally whipped for anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour. She’d been here for three days, but to her it felt like three years, waiting in the dark for her punishment…
Natalie Hunter was an independent journalist, an investigator, and she was going to take Humphrey Victarion down. She’d been looking into evidence of corruption, backroom deals, or human rights violations at any of the factories he owned. She had no idea how deep Victarion’s depravity went: she didn’t discover his alter ego, Lord Vicious, until she was trembling naked in his dungeon.
“So you wanted to find my secrets, Ms. Hunter? Well now you have! What do you think, will this make the front page!?” Lord Vicious laughed, lashing Natalie’s naked and welted back.
“MMNGGGHHH!” She screamed through the gag. “LLFFFF MEHHHGGG SAAAHKKKK URRRRGHHH OCKKK!”
“Hahah, you want to suck my cock!? Is that what you’re asking!?” Lord Vicious asked, wrapping the whip around her chest so that the tip bit into her tender breasts. More >>>
“Please fuck me master! My cunt is burning for your cock! Give this worthless whore the pleasure of your glorious cock!” Gretchen sobbed as soon as Lord Vicious entered her cell. Weeks of intense training had made her humiliating speech almost instinctive, but she still couldn’t keep from crying. Her puffy labia were still red and swollen from the fucking he gave her earlier that morning, and were covered with bruises from where is riding crop had punished her tender sex lips.
“I hope you’ve had time to reflect on the mistakes you made this morning!” Lord Vicious said, gently sliding his fingers through her slippery folds. “I’d hate to have to add more cane welts to that beautiful ass of yours!”
“I have master! I promise! Please, fuck me now!” Gretchen begged. This morning she’d made several mistakes: she hadn’t cum together with Lord Vicious, she didn’t thank him for fucking her, and she had forgotten to scoop his cum out of her hole and eat it in front of him. She’d been trained to do all these things, but Lord Vicious’s fuckings were so intense. He’d settle into a hard, pounding rhythm that would drive his cock against her cervix over and over again, sending spasms through her entire body. He had surprising stamina for an overweight old man.
Your butt sure marks up beautifully
It hurts so much! This is the worst, worse than the strap on my butt! He is a sadistic animal and my poor breasts are so sensitive.
“You fat titted cow! How do you like the feel of a little leather on your funbags, huh? Feel good, whore? Some men will allow you to stick those big titties in their faces without… consequences. I think a cock teasing bitch who is as proud of her jugs as you are needs to be taught a lesson. I like teaching this lesson.
“Have another!”
No, please, no! Stop hitting me! So sick, so…
“Aaaiigh! Ooaahh, owwgh!”
“Damn, your rack looks even more attractive with red lines whipped all over it. Makes my dick kind of thrum to look at your welted boobs bouncing all around when my whip strikes them. I ought to thank you for catching my attention by showing off those beauties in the gym, slut. Without that, your tits would not suffering in my cellar right now.”
With her ass on fire, Madison lay in bondage, twisted like a pretzel, staring up into her friend Olivia’s crotch. She could never have imagined when she was putting up posters to help find Olivi, that hours later she would be tied up and whipped so that some sick man could force her into lesbian sex.
How can this fucking be happening? It can’t be!
Then the whip sliced through the air of the cellar that had become a torture chamber for naked women. It snapped across the girl’s firm, round bottom as she squirmed in her leather cuffs.
“Aaiiggh!”
No! No! No!
“Bitches, my arms are getting tired… not!
“When I was in prison for rape, I spent hours every day lifting weights. I was fantasizing about and preparing for the day I would get out of prison to whip and rape stuck up cunts like you, only harder than I had ever done before. With my strength, I could cut the flesh of your butt into shreds… but I won’t. Ask blondie… there’s other things I like to do with a pretty girl’s ass!
She quaked, gasped, and started to cry
She was making sounds he could discern now; combinations of moans, grunts, cries, and sobs. She tried to scream, cry out questions, or make any words that would help her understand what was happening.
That was okay with him. Her confusion only added to his excitement. It had been her torso as well as her smile that did it … not just her tits, but the way her sides were so sleek, so long, and so smooth. He held those wonderful sides now, watching those tits bounce as he surged inside of her for the second time in less than a half-hour.
Her beautiful back arched, her beautiful neck stretched, her beautiful head went back, she made a sound like a drowning kitten, and then she was refilled. Before she could completely comprehend it, he threw her down onto the van floor on her back. She quaked, gasped, and started to cry.
Grabbing a breast while jamming her head back onto his shoulder, he rammed into her with brutal fervor as the cop car came toward the van. Groaning with malice and stimulation, he raped her all the more relentlessly as her beautiful little body writhed against him in the small space.
The cop car came alongside. He achingly came into Claire Holden again. The cop car passed by, obliviously.
Claire wailed and cringed; sounding, looking, and even feeling like a frightened, trapped fawn. He sneered malevolently, holding her down on him while pumping up his hips once, twice, three times more. Finally, he sat back, wheezing. “Yeah, darling, that’s the way I like it…!”
Claire tried to get her balance, but sagged against him, dizzy. “Aw, poor baby,” he cooed. “All tuckered out, are we?” Tenderly fondling her strapped-in head and bulbous breast, he slowly moved her off his stiff, fetid, spike. It emerged from her moist, tender cunt like a snake.
