Rape Toys

Chapter 13 – Stuffed and Mounted

Loretta awoke strapped into the chair, stripped naked, her cunt and rectum achingly, humiliatingly full. Foggily, her mind still clouded by the drug, she remembered walking down the street and a sharp sting in her upper arm. The last thing she recalled was staring stupidly at the dart from the tranquilizer gun as it emptied the fast-acting barbiturate into her body.

Suddenly fully aware and panicky, Loretta snapped awake, the adrenaline clearing her system, roaring through her arteries like a flash flood, washing away the fogginess and replacing it with pulse pounding fear.

Facing this reality was physically like taking a hard punch to the gut. Mentally, it was a chilling horror beyond her wildest nightmares. Lovely Loretta had played lots of sexual games. Being a knowledgeable, sexually mature woman was part of her appeal. It was advertised to knowing predators in the way she walked, dressed and comported herself. Her shapely figure, cute face and obvious fuck-ability were the reasons she was kidnapped almost as soon as the cunt hunters scoped her out walking down the street.

In these creepy, heart-stopping circumstances, her past sexual experiences were all screaming one message to her brain: she was in deep shit.

Terrified, Loretta struggled hysterically, straining mightily at her unyielding restraints.

It was all in vain. Completely helpless, the nude beauty was clamped firmly to the heavy wooden chair. No matter how violently she jerked and twisted, the unyielding chair only creaked gently. A leather collar clamped Loretta's pale white neck to the back of the chair, which went all the way to the floor in one solid hardwood piece. Her fine-boned wrists were fastened to the heavy wooden arms of the chair, held in place by thick leather cuffs. Leather cuffs also pinned her shapely ankles to the fat front legs. Distressingly, there was no seat. Even more distressingly, a thick greased prong angled up from the back of the chair and was worked deeply into her rectum helpfully providing support for the pink-faced beauty, wriggling like a worm impaled on a rectal fishhook. A sawed off shovel handle was buried in her aching cunt, rammed in as far as it would go. All of this restraint, enforced nudity and intimately invasive hardware easily overwhelmed her, forcing Loretta to the inescapable conclusion that she was totally fucked.

To add insult to injury, a housefly settled on her crotch and began crawling with small, feather light steps over her cuntlips. The fly blithely ignored her attempts to dislodge it. Her tight bondage didn't even allow her enough movement to buck off a fly. The fly buzzed noisily as it crawled creepily over her privates and exposed rectum, probing and sucking at her with its proboscis. Loretta found her complete inability to deal with this minor buzzing irritation profoundly disturbing. She struggled hard to get the fly to leave her alone. Her thighs and buttocks quivered. She tried to clench her buttocks, but her legs were spread too wide and the invasive butt hook got in the way. The small housefly hung on with ease, buzzing angrily as it crept along her butt crack, looking for those small disgusting goodies that are yummy delights to the insect kingdom.

Looking around in wild desperation, Loretta saw her clothing folded neatly on a nearby table. It was all there except for her panties.

Deeply fearful, her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped hummingbird. Loretta breathed in short fast pants. She could feel the blood pulsing in her flaming beet-red face as if her head was going to explode from the pressure. She felt violated, helpless and totally vulnerable. Panic-stricken, she couldn't handle the bondage, much less having her private parts openly displayed coupled with the shamefully intimate violations. If the restraining cuffs hadn't been made of leather, she would have rubbed her wrists and ankles bloody with the violence of her continuous futile squirming.

She realised that there was something crammed into her mouth. Pushing against it and feeling the soft material with her tongue, it took a few moments before Loretta realized from the textures that it was probably her soiled panties, sealed in behind her taped shut lips. She thought briefly about the skid marks on the seat of her dirty panties. Her eyes watered as her empty stomach tried to hurl. All that came up was stomach acid, burning the back of her throat and making her sinuses ache.

Bad as all this was, it would soon get much worse.

The ease with which it had been done shocked her. One moment she was free, the next she awoke to a hideous nightmare world beyond her most depraved imaginings. Emotionally, she was shattered. Even if she were saved before anything else happened to her (and far deeper trauma lurked in her future), she would never be the same again. She would forever after be a haunted female, her mind eaten alive by darkly paranoid fears and the shaming knowledge of what had already been done to her.

She knew in her heart that this was just the beginning. The contrast between the beautiful bright sunny day before she was captured and the stark concrete confines of her windowless dungeon cell was chilling, filling her with deep dread.

The bad news never stopped coming. Her pretty feet were stuffed into two steel cups fastened to the widespread front legs of the chair. Leather ankle cuffs at their tops kept her feet trapped inside the cups, which were small enough to force her to point her toes prettily. She wondered what this was for; knowing with a sense of gnawing dread that when she found out it wouldn't be good news.

The man who could answer all of her questions (if only she could do more than squeal through her sodden soiled panties) had suddenly materialised at her side, appearing with eerie silence while she had been staring at her feet trapped inside the cups and obsessing on the fly insolently exploring her privates, hoovering up tiny fecal delights.

Lola's friend Double D was a large black man, his head shaved bald. He was one of the darkest men Loretta had ever seen, as black as a pimp's heart. Double D hadn't scooped Anna yet as per Lola's vengeful desires, but that snotty English bitch's day was soon to come. An unsuspecting slut named Bethy was going to be sucked in on that delightful little scenario, but that was in a fascinating future yet to cum.

Loretta's liquid eyes, brimming with tears, stared fearfully up at her captor. His teeth were blindingly white as he grinned down at her.

Loretta had just been snatched off the street in broad daylight by a team of black pimps who hunted down beautiful white women like they were animals. To him, her cute face and shapely build had marked her as a fuckbeast to be captured, broken and trained from the moment he had spotted her walking innocently down the street.

Loretta whimpered pathetically as Double D pulled up a stool and sat down next to his new bitch.

He poured a warm salt-water solution into each of the steel cups covering her bare feet. He attached a wire from his electro-shock console to each steel cup.

Loretta, who suddenly understood the purpose of the cups, felt like her throbbing heart had been ripped from her chest, thrown to the floor and stomped flat.

Grinning ferally, Double D gave her bare thigh an intimate squeeze. Sensing a much larger and more sinister predator, the annoying housefly buzzed off. Loretta barely noticed, staring in horror as Double D lightly fingered her genitals with insolent familiarity. The blackness of his hand contrasted with the paleness and pinkness of her skin. Her flesh was hot and tremulous under his brown palm. Loretta's deeply concerned face got a lot pinker as he caressed it lightly, a lover's touch. She could smell her cunt on his fingers.

"Before we chat, I'll adjust the voltage, amperage and pulsing of the current."

He adjusted some dials on the console and pressed a button.

Loretta squealed and jerked sharply. Her shapely legs twitched violently in unison and her tits bounced.

A perfectionist, Double D was dissatisfied.

"I'll just tweak it up a little."

Loretta writhed frantically, tits aquiver, eyes begging, squealing pleadingly into her gag while her captor adjusted the dials.

He pressed the button.

Loretta screamed shrilly as her naked body convulsed. She flushed lobster red all the way down to her smoothly shaven cunt.

Double D beamed contentedly. He liked his women deep-fried.

"Much better!"

"Am I the most important man in your life?"

Panting hard, Loretta stared at him, her eyes huge, worried and confused, her frenzied mind whirling. Didn't he understand? She was gagged. How could she answer?

She screamed as he gave her another brutal jolt. Flushed, her naked torso heaving, she squealed her frustration and fear into the gag.

Double D was used to counselling traumatised women. He explained it simply; in terms even the dumbest shell-shocked cunt could understand.

"If you don't answer you get a jolt. We're starting with the yes and no questions. All you have to do is nod your head yes or shake it for no. Understand?"

She nodded quickly.

"Am I the most important man in your life?"

Loretta nodded.

"Do you understand the importance of pleasing me?"

Loretta nodded again.

"Are you eager to please me?"

The questions continued. It was a veritable nod-fest. Turning herself into a bobble-head toy, Loretta's pretty little head bounced up and down in complete agreement to everything.

"Do you want me to feel you up?"

There was a slight hesitation. He pressed the button.

Loretta spasmed in agony, screaming high and hard. She stared at him bug-eyed, her bare bosom heaving.

"Do you want me to fondle and grope you?"

She nodded timidly.

His squeezed her breasts and ran his fingers lightly over her cuntlips.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Nod.

He tapped her rectal prong. She felt it vibrate deep inside her. Her guts clenched and churned around the thick vibrating rod. Her fingernails dug into her palms and her small forearm muscles rippled as her hands tightened into small fists.

"Do I own your ass?"

Nod.

Loretta groaned as he twisted the shovel handle buried deep inside her cunt, making her tool tunnel burn along its full length with the unlubricated friction.

"Do I own your cunt?"

Nod. Red-faced Loretta was one agreeable little pussy as he licked her light brown nipples and sucked them until they were erect and dark red. It didn't take long. She hardened easily. He liked that in a bitch.

"Do I own your tits?"

Nod. He fondled and groped her nude body, feeling her up all over. She shut her eyes and shuddered as a total stranger caressed her nakedness with humiliating familiarity.

"Do I own every square inch of your skin?"

Nod.

"I control every aspect of your life, don't I? I decide what you wear, if anything. I stuff whatever I like into whatever orifice I please. I control what you eat and drink. I decide how often you are beaten. Don't I?"

Cute faced Loretta had turned into a yes girl, nodding quickly to everything.

Now for the trick question.

"Do you think that you should be beaten regularly?"

Loretta almost gave another yes nod, and then caught herself. She shook her head in a violent no.

He pressed the button.

Her raw scream was still satisfyingly loud despite being filtered through her soiled panties and taped shut lips. Her naked tits shuddered dramatically as her bare body bucked.

He coolly waited a few moments for the panicky slut to calm down. Once she had settled down to a tremulous hysteria, he chuckled in delight and asked a small variant of his original question.

"Do you think that you deserve to be beaten regularly?"

Loretta looked at him timidly and gave a small hesitant nod.

His finger hovered indecisively, tantalisingly, over the button. Horrified, Loretta stared obsessively at it and began to breath hard. Her worried eyes began alternating frantically between staring in terror at his hovering finger and glancing pleadingly up at his face, whimpering like a small, sad puppy.

"You seem a bit uncertain. Are you sure that you deserve regular beatings?"

Terrified, poor Loretta nodded so emphatically that her bare breasts joined in. Everything was bouncing up and down. It was a veritable nod-fest.

She recoiled in shock, flinching as he spat contemptuously in her face. The sound echoed off the walls like pistol shots as he slapped her hard repeatedly. Her cheeks flamed. Some whores are tough enough to handle being pimp slapped. Pretty pampered Loretta was not yet one of them. Between slaps, she moaned and squealed like a scared little piggy as he alternated between his open right hand and his open left hand. If you backhand a slut, the knuckles can mark her. He didn't want to mark her cute face just yet.

A good beating opens a bitch's mind to a hitherto unsuspected world of horrifying possibilities. A beaten bitch understands that bad things don't only happen to others; they can definitely be happen to her. A thoroughly broken bitch has a bone deep, tremulously fearful respect for her pimp. A beating can build sullen resentment too, so it was important to do a thorough job and core her completely. Nobody likes a sullen, resentful slut. A pathetically eager to please pussy whose backbone has been removed completely is the goal.

Fortunately, Double D was up to the task. A deeply traumatised bitch can't think straight and is easily second-guessed. Her overwhelming fear betrays her every time. Knowing this, he ground his bitches pitilessly.

He switched to using his fists, hitting her with his sharp knuckles rather than the flat of his fist, concentrating the force of the blow on the point of his middle knuckle rather than spreading it over a larger surface. He changed targets too, switching from slapping her flaming face to punching her repeatedly in the upper arm, aiming carefully so that the flesh was pinched brutally between the point of his hard knuckle and the bone of her arm. Pinching the flesh like that with each punch meant he didn't have to punch very hard to produce an exquisitely painful result. He aimed carefully for the exact same place over and over, developing a bone deep bruise. He switched to punching the other arm to spread the damage.

He could now produce instant reminder pain in his bitch by massaging the bruises on either upper arm, bringing the traumatising memories flooding back into her fear-ridden mind.

He used the same trick to punch her tits, punching with the middle knuckle into her teat, crushing the nipple into her ribs, pinching the titmeat hard between knuckle and rib with each blow. It felt like her heart was exploding with each punch.

Loretta bobbed and sobbed with each punch, the strong wooden chair creaking and groaning with each blow, pinning her firmly in position, an easy target for his savagely pounding fists.

At last her introductory beating was over. Loretta was sweating rivers and puffing like a steam engine.

It was time to introduce her reeling mind to some other traumatising possibilities.

Loretta's glistening, sweat slick torso heaved. She screwed her eyes shut, trying vainly to block it all out, desperately seeking to lock out a world filled with pain, degradation and humiliation, wishing it were all a bad dream. Tears streamed down her anguished face as she sobbed hard.

He waited until she breathed out and then pinched her nostrils shut. Abruptly plunged into this new terror, her eyes popped open, wide with alarm. He glanced at his watch, noting the time carefully. Two minutes without air is a powerfully educational experience for a bitch. Three minutes induces permanent brain damage. Double D aimed a bit lower, being content to instil life-long, mind-melting fear in his new slut.

The leather collar held her head in position and severely limited the extent of any struggle Loretta may have put up.

With no air in her burning lungs, she was powerfully motivated to struggle hard.

She reflexively tried to jerk her head away, but the back of her head was resting against the back of the chair, defeating her. She twisted her head desperately, but the collar was snug and retarded her movement. Double D didn't try to fight her at all. He simply relaxed and effortlessly followed the severely limited movement of her head with his hand, keeping her nostrils pinched firmly shut between his strong black fingers.

Her terror-stricken face darkened, congested with blood. Her bloodshot eyes bulged. Her sweating nude body writhed and squirmed desperately as she learned to the very core of her being that she was weak, helpless and easily overwhelmed by Double D. The knowledge was burned into her brain that her puny, futile resistance against the strong black man would be doomed to failure every time.

Loretta had sweated out most of her urine as she was forced through the pimp's heart-pounding, bitch-busting workout routine, but what remained in her bladder spurted humiliatingly to the floor.

Double D always regarded it as a significant milestone in the relationship when he made one of his bitches lose bladder control for the first time. He inhaled deeply, smelling her fear sweat and the tang of her deeply concentrated dark yellow urine. In the future, after she had been ruthlessly stripped of all dignity and self-respect, Loretta would learn to pee in her panties on command while everyone watched. For now, Double D was content to teach her the importance of putting out and playing sucky-fuck with whomever he told her to.

There is physical abuse. There is mental abuse. And then there is everyone's favourite: sexual abuse. Double D believed in covering all the bases thoroughly. He put two fingers in his mouth and produced an ear-splitting whistle.

It was time for Loretta to be introduced to the gang and put through her paces. It was a gang-bang that would reveal Loretta's shameful little secret.