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!”
Tag Archive for De haro comics
“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.
The people of Russia knew him by many names. The Mad Monk, some called him. A Holy Fool, others called him. But the young women of St. Petersburg knew him by another name: “Master.” That was the name they spoke late at night, when they were face down on a dirty mattress, or pressed up against a wall somewhere in the shadows of the street.
Rasputin had his fill of women, though no one was quite sure how.
To look upon him was to be repulsed. This man was not attractive. He had a dark face, his eyes shadowed and cruel. His hair was limp and greasy, a testament to his infrequent bathing. His rotting teeth and rancid breath did not inspire passion, and his body reeked like a goat. There was no earthly reason why this man should draw women to him like honey draws flies. Yet he did. He fucked with wild abandon, and no one ever seemed to refuse his advances.
There were whispers among the people that Rasputin possessed supernatural powers. That he could control minds and bend the will of the women he took to bed. Perhaps these powers were a gift from God. Perhaps they were a gift from the Devil. No one knew for sure.
Katya had felt his powers first-hand. A maid in the Tsar’s household, she had been cleaning late one night when she felt a presence behind her. She turned and…nothing. Everything went fuzzy. When she became aware again, she was standing in a hall gagged and bound, naked but for her panties.
Rasputin’s whores were numerous. Often they were young; pretty things that laboured as maids or cooks in the Tsar’s household. Sometimes they were older, and of a higher class. A few were actual whores, procured in the streets and alleyways of St. Petersburg. The women varied, though most had one thing in common. All had begged him to take them.
All those who knew Rasputin were confused by his ability to fuck such a collection of women. He was not an attractive man. They supposed the appeal came from his political connections to the royal family or his skills between the sheets. After all, the women all left his bed singing praise of his skills and his holiness. But there was something that was just so hard to believe about that. His eyes were so cruel, his hair so greasy, his manner so hard. Why would women want a man like him?
What no one knew was that the women were not willing at all. Rasputin was like a vampire, stalking his prey and taking them whenever it suited him. He enjoyed the unwillingness; their little cries made his dick so much harder.
He had grabbed this woman during a ball that was being held for the Tsar’s nephew. She was easy prey, standing by herself near the window. It was a simple matter for him to creep up outside the window and take her.
She had put up a valiant struggle; her dress had ripped in the fight, exposing her breasts. But Rasputin had won in the end. He always did. This woman had bit him before he managed to get the gag in. Oh, she would pay for that.
Her breasts were soft… luscious… inviting. He would get great joy from biting them. He sank his teeth into her warm skin; he felt her tense underneath him as the pain made her stiffen. Her cries of pain and her muted pleas to stop took him right to the edge of cumming. He held off, though. He had plans for this little bitch.
“Have you ever had your ass fucked, woman?” he asked.
She shrieked and started thrashing around.
At any given time there are thousands of cargo ships crossing the world’s oceans, delivering cars, electronics, food and countless other commodities. One ship, however, carries a very different kind of cargo: sex slaves. Affectionately known as the Slave Barge to its crew, the ship looks like any other cargo vessel on the outside, but on the inside it’s a paradise for the crew…and a nightmare for the cargo it carries. The holds of the Slave Barge are a series of prison cells and dungeons, all designed to quickly break and train the new girls that come aboard.
The girls that have the misfortune of ending up on this god forsaken ship start out as beautiful, independent and strong young women. But once they descend into the bowels of the Slave Barge…
They’re just Cargo.
Betty was so cold she could no long feel the biting arctic wind sweeping across her bare tits. A few hours ago she’d been a normal college student going to her first off-campus party in the warehouse district. That’s when this nightmare had started, when she’d been grabbed by a pair of sailors and locked away in one of the abandoned warehouses.
“Ughhh, for such a fat-titted cow you sure have a tight pussy!” Her captor had taunted her as he rammed his cockmeat in her dry, resisting vagina.
“Flip her over, I want to take her ass!” The other sailor said.
“NNIIEEARRGGHHH! PLEASE! TAKE IT OUTTTTT!” She’d screamed as the dry fucking of their cocks began stretching and tearing her delicate holes. Of course her screaming only made them fuck her harder, fucking her in a brutal rhythm that never gave either hole a chance to adjust to the massive invaders tearing them open.
“What do you think bitch? Can you take the whole thing down your throat?”
“Doesn’t matter you don’t have a choice HAHA”
“Oh don’t cry, it will be over soon…then we get to sell you for lots of money, cheerleaders make the best fuckslaves”
“STOP CRYING! Its just 9 more cocks and then one teeny tiny numbered piercing in your nipple so they keep track of you at the auction HAHA. Or would you prefer a brand?”
“How’s that crotch rope feeling Debbie?”
“Get used to it, where you’re going there will be things a lot more painful than that”
“If you’ll excuse me I need to go get dressed, I’m meeting my new business partner, try not to struggle too much, that rope is designed to automatically tighten HAHA”
“I won’t see you again so this is goodbye, a man will be by in an hour or two to take you to your new owner. I hope you like being a fuckpet!