BDSM Library - Story: Honeymoon Squared, Chapter: Chapter 8

Honeymoon Squared - Chapter 8

I awoke the next morning to an empty set of rooms. There was no evidence that Roxy ever returned from her visit to the older couple, Warren and Lois. Since I never got their last names or room number, it would be almost impossible to track them down. After my morning ablutions, a shave and shower, it was downstairs to the restaurant for breakfast. I damn near swallowed my tongue when this brown-skinned sex goddess with a body that fought to explode from the tight fitting uniform she wore took my order. Just watching her great ass moving from side to side gave me major wood that was thankfully concealed by the tablecloth. Whoever did the hiring at this place sure had an eye for the female form.

Scanning the tables did not yield any help in finding Roxy, Warren or Lois. The waitress returned to fill my cup with coffee and give me a good look at her cleavage along with a big smile. I bit my tongue and looked away to avoid making a spectacle of myself. That ass of hers had to be on ball bearings to move the way that it did. By now my cock was so hard it began to hurt. The rest of my breakfast came and went, leaving me in a fog because of that hot looking waitress. I had to admit that yesterday probably spoiled me when it came to sex and it was carrying over to this piece of tail. Leaving her a big tip was the only way I knew to make up to her for my strange behavior.

Now it was time to head for the front office and see if they might assist me in trying to find the couple from last night. The clerk was very sympathetic but also unwilling to shed any light on the whereabouts of the mystery couple. Somehow that was no surprise to me. It was then that the idea of asking for housekeeping to take care of things early popped into my devious mind. The clerk was only too glad to make sure that a housekeeper would be assigned to the task immediately. I returned to my room and waited for Lucinda to show her face. What a disappointment that turned out to be. The lady who showed up was not my good buddy from last night, and she claimed to know nothing about Lucinda. Curses, foiled again; I thought. The idea of wandering the corridors in hopes that our paths might cross now came to mind. However after an hour of fruitless searching, it became apparent that Lucinda might be anywhere in this vast hotel, doing who knows what to whom.

My next move involved returning to the Fun for All bookstore with Gwen's ID stuff and seeing what they might know about where she was taken by the police or whoever whisked her away. Metal face was nowhere in sight and the other clerks stonewalled me. On my way outside I happened to hear one of the guards and a customer talking about what happened last night. I slowed down and started looking through the tape offerings in the booths nearby. It was then that a lady of the evening, who evidently was not a vampire, sidled up to me and suggested a rendezvous in a booth or if I was a big spender, my SUV. Evidently she was trolling the lot when I arrived in the garbage mobile. Acting innocent I hinted that what happened last night made it difficult for me to do business with the young lady. She grinned and guaranteed that we would not be bothered if we went to my SUV. I played coy and that's when she called the guard over to clinch the sale. At that point I was on the verge of bolting from the store.

He took one look at my pale face and started laughing. The painted lady joined in and soon I too was smiling to avoid freaking out completely. He explained the facts of life to me and added some information about my missing bride too. I stood there like the rube I was, and took it all in. Gwen had evidently done something real bad and was paying for it at a location known only to the local police. From what he had heard from his buddies, the cops were very unhappy with Gwen's behavior and were probably giving her a big taste of what happened to troublemakers who impeded any local business from making money. They doubled over with laughter when I suggested that perhaps they would accept a large donation in exchange for her early release. That's when the whore figured out who I was. Now I was like a deer in the headlights. There was only one thing to do and I did it, exit the bookstore as fast as my little legs could carry me.

While I had been getting my beauty rest, my blushing bride had been pulling a train of cops. The local enforcers of the peace were in a rather foul mood thanks to her little escapade at the bookstore. Gwen went over the barrel, a tradition at this place of iniquity. The barrel was designed with places for cuffs to be installed to hold the subject steady while they "educated" the offender on local laws and the punishment for disobeying them. There was also a thick triangular wooden slat that ran from the top to the bottom of the barrel. Gwen had broken a number of very important statutes for which she was held responsible. For the first portion of her punishment she was mounted in the face-up position, her legs spread wide to provide easy access to her cunt. The slat was located such that it supported the base of her spine, providing a constant reminder of her violation of local ordinances. The barrel could be rotated so that the subject's orifices were at the proper position for the comfort of each member of law enforcement.

The first portion of the gangbang involved Gwen's mouth and cunt. Normally the subject's mouth was used to assure that the officer's cock was ready for duty once the one using her cunt was finished. To enable even more interaction with the offender, two other members of the police were stationed on either side of Gwen's stretched body and they drubbed her ribs, tits and thighs with rubber hoses while she was being skewered and choked. It took about two and a half hours for the first round to be completed. Each member wore a condom while they fucked her and afterward she was forced to swallow everything that was deposited in it.

Now they flipped Gwen over to the face down position, with the triangular piece of wood eating into her midriff. The deep indentation across the base of her spine would fester with time, causing her great pain and embarrassment from the smell of her suppurating flesh. She shivered in anticipation of what was going to happen to her tender asshole that hadn't been used for many years. The cops did not disappoint her. The first round had taken the edge off the excited men. Now they could settle down and do their best to cause her maximum humiliation and pain. The fact that she was face down did not relieve her of the responsibility of hardening those who waited to use her asshole. Now another cop was deputized to use her long blonde hair to pull her head back sufficiently that her mouth could be used for its intended purpose. She choked and drooled continuously from this brutal treatment, but her assailants couldn't care less than they did.

If anything this position put a great strain on her throat muscles. The cock could now come down with tremendous force at an angle, abrading the mucous membrane lining of her throat as well as cutting off the air supply to her lungs. These cops were old hands at doing things like this to offenders. They'd even make bets on how long it would take for a subject to pass out from having her throat plugged airtight. A number of bets were made during this round of Gwen's gangbang, with varying results but a lot of laughter at her discomfort and the way her face turned colors. Pale blue was their gold standard for asphyxiation, and twice Gwen achieved that goal and lived to tell about it.

Their cruelty knew no bounds. Rubber hoses were used on her kidneys so much that she pissed blood for days afterward. One over enthusiastic blow broke a rib and made taking a deep breath an adventure in pain. She learned about some of their tricks first hand that long night. They'd wait until her throat was blocked and then the hoses would be smashed against her upper back so hard that she would have convulsions which made the cock in her throat get the squeezing of a lifetime.

They deliberately chose the smallest girth to start off sodomizing her. Even this prong was enough to bring strangled screams from her cock-clogged throat. Gradually the size of the cocks splitting open her sphincter increased, putting more strain on that tiring muscle. She passed out repeatedly from being made airtight, which didn't stop the frightful stretching of her tender asshole. The last three rapists breached her anus to the point that it remained open while the cocks were changed. They cheered at the sight of the gape that had been created by this terrible assault on her nearly virgin asshole. The cheers and whistles grew with each thicker cock that seemed to pulverize her loose anal passage. The next to last member, a nine-inch monster over three inches across at the head drew blood to wild reactions from the gang of sex-crazed cops. When the thickest dick in the bunch punched its way through the second sphincter muscle and into her twisting colon, the noise rattled the roof of the building as the bleeding from Gwen's asshole increased dramatically.

Half the rape gang decided they had enough for one night and took off for home. That left a wasted, bleeding Gwen alone to face the hard-core cops who wouldn't be satisfied until they drove her to death's doorstep and knocked loudly on his door. They argued about what constituted a suitable remembrance for this troublemaker. One wanted to break both her arms at the elbows and turn her over to the local medical school for experimentation. It was well known that this place was a bottom feeder of the medical profession. In fact they struggled to keep their accreditation, and only some arm-twisting at the state house kept the doors open. Another wanted to cripple her so that she walked with a limp for the rest of her life. He had a friend who had already told him exactly where to break the leg; actually it was the shin, to cause this to occur. Those suggestions were too rough even for this group and were tabled until they got someone who really screwed up big time.

There were other crazy ideas kicked around, but at last they decided that Gwen would look great with a tattoo on her cute butt. More discussion centered on the cost of the job, and no one wanted to step up on that score. While this was going on, two cops went back to brutalizing their "guest". Gwen was bleeding from the ass like a stuck pig by the time the two of them got done corn holing her new and improved gaping asshole, capable of handling a donkey with ease. Someone found what looked like a pointer used in school. It didn't take long for the entire gang that was left to line up to give this major offender's ass a workout she'd long remember.

Gwen took ten of the best from each of the six cops. Her firm ass was no longer firm. It looked like a side of liver from the bloody welts that they carved into her flesh. Still not satisfied there was another round where each man got to give her six anywhere on what was left of that side of her body. They got very creative and Gwen kept passing out from the terrible pain each and every stroke caused. Some beat the base of her swollen spine, splitting the skin and flesh like it was overripe fruit. She lost her voice from screaming while someone lacerated the hollows behind her knees. Twice the backs of her legs and thighs were covered with bleeding cuts and blisters that broke open shortly after the pointer had done its work. Finally the last man chose her feet, cutting open the heels and leaving a part of her soles swollen and cracked. Gwen was unconscious long before the last stroke had eaten into her flesh. For some odd reason this exercise left the group calm and thoughtful. They were so thoughtful in fact that they decided as a going away gift they would use a branding iron to leave their permanent mark on Gwen's ass, a large symbol that identified her as a whore to those who read Japanese.

As they trooped out, they observed Lt. Lauren pulling up. They waved to her but were ignored. There was some laugher when they realized she would likely hit the ceiling over the condition of the guest troublemaker. They had left her cuffed to the barrel and out like a light, but still breathing. Whatever she had planned would have to wait until the ignorant whore regained consciousness without screaming and begging for death. The last two cops were just pulling out in their squad car when they heard this eerie sound coming from the building. It sounded like a wounded animal in its death agonies and made the hair on the back of their necks rise. They continued to hear it wavering until they were perhaps a quarter mile away. By then the driver had floored it and they were doing over sixty on a twisting country road.

The whore would not be denied. Evidently I was her lawful prey and she meant to keep me under all but the most dire of circumstances. I hopped into the big slug and it let me down as usual. It would not start, no way would it start! Then she started to pound on my window and call me a few choice names. That did it; I opened the door and came out after her. It was then that this large shadow blocked out the sun. He didn't have a uniform, but that didn't matter because of his incredible size. The whore started yelling that I'd stiffed her. The next thing I knew he had me by the shirt and was lifting me into the air so we could talk face to face. He talked and I listened and nodded occasionally. His breath was foul, but I valued my life too much to mention that to him. We finally compromised at fifty bucks for the whore. Who was I to argue? If looks could kill, that tramp would have become instant dead meat. I made a mental note to return under cover of darkness, kidnap the bitch and feed her to the local dog pound. That made me feel a whole lot better, sure it did! Then I got my first and possibly last break of the day. She recognized the damned SUV and then it dawned on her who I was.

" You were the one with Lucinda yesterday; I thought I recognized you. "

I wasted no time asking if she knew where Lucinda lived. The whore smelled more money and so we began negotiating while the giant, her pimp, stood nearby and chuckled. It cost another fifty but I got the information that today was her day off, which meant that within an hour or so she'd be putting in an appearance at the bookstore parking lot, and not to autograph porno magazines either. I thanked her profusely and swore the whore to secrecy about this little conversation. She grinned and nodded, which probably meant nothing. It was then that the giant popped the hood of the garbage mobile and restored the part he had taken previously from it. I couldn't even find the hood latch, which was inside the thing that ate Detroit. At that point I realized just how overmatched I was in this environment. I said thank you and climbed into the monster machine and limped out of the parking lot. What else could happen to me? I soon found out.

(To be continued - jethro jodhpur)