Saturday, February 12, 2011

Fuck Valentine's Day

I was hiding it. My moodiness. My agitation. My hurt feelings. Was it one thing? No. But the picture and the comment was like a spike driven deep. A man who screws a dozen girls is congratulated and called a stud. A girl who fucks a dozen guys is castigated and called a slut. I know. I’ve been laughed at, ridiculed for my dress, my behavior, or spreading my legs. I'm just a shitty lock, aren't I? And there are other issues, but the picture was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Master Barrett wanted to know what I wanted to do for Valentine’s Day.

“Are you asking what I'll be in the mood for on Monday? Or what I'm in the mood for doing on Monday? There's a difference,” I said, my tone bleak.

Barrett nodded. “Mood for doing I think.”

“So basically you're asking, with my current mood, what I want to have to do on Monday?” I asked, wanting clarification.

“Not exactly” he replied. I cut him off.

“Well, personally I'd like to be walking along a parking lot when suddenly a van pulls up.” I said, feeling the rush of anger and frustration and want and need in me. “Two men should grab me and drag me into the van. My clothes should be ripped off my body. Not taken, but RIPPED, PULLED, TORN off me.” I tell him. There is silence.

“I should be gagged and then cuffed and chained in a fetal position while one of them shoves an un-lubricated giant dildo into my pussy.”

Barrett interrupts me, not sure where I am going with this. “I'm asking given that you will be fucked stupid on Saturday what do you think you'll be able to do on Monday.” There is a moment’s hesitation. “Though I do like your idea,” he admits.

I continue. “Then, on the drive to where ever, they take turns sticking a sharp screwdriver into my clit, my ass, my pussy, and along the bottoms of my feet. They frequently slap my ass.”

“I’m not sure I'll be able to arrange this though.” Barrett comments.

I ignore him. “When we get to where were going, my legs will be freed and I'll be dragged out of the van and into a warehouse. A bed frame, with nothing but springs, will be in the center of the room, as well as a chair with no seat. I'll be forced into the chair, bound to it and then they'll use a whip on my tits until I'm screaming into the gag and my breasts are streaked with welts and maybe even bleeding. Then they'll shove one of those mechanical fucking machine dildos under me, attach clamps connected to a TENS unit to my clit and nipples, crank the power on both machines to full, and zap and fuck me at the same time.

“After I'm nothing but a blubbering crying broken girl, they'll let me loose and I'll be fucked by every man there, repeatedly, in every hole, until I'm sore and can't even count the number of cocks that have been inside me. Then I'll be moved to the bed frame and tied to it. Spread Eagled.

“They'll attach a vibrator to my clit and while I'm enduring the over-sensitivity, they'll put alligator clamps on my nipples. Then a bucket of water will be dumped on top of me. A car battery will be brought out, with one end attached to the bed frame. Then they’ll amuse themselves by touching the other end to my nipples, then clit. Back and forth. Over and over.

“It will burn of course, but they won't care.

“After I've passed out, been awoken, fucked again, and then electrified a second time, I'll be untied from the bed, dragged to the middle of the floor, and told to stand on a thin narrow wooden block. A rope will be dropped down from the ceiling and wrapped around my tits, binding them tightly. My wrists will be bound behind my back. A dildo on a long stick will be stuck up inside me and then wedged between the concrete and my pussy, lifting me up slightly off the wooden support.

“Then the bastards clamp my tits and add those heavy weights. The wooden block is kicked out from under me. Now all my weight is either on the dildo stick or on my bound and stretched breasts. I'm screaming. They let me down after ten or twenty minutes, but not before having fun with a whip too. As soon as my ass is as welted as my tits, I'm lowered. The ropes are untied from my breasts, and a noose is made. This goes around my neck. A cot is brought forward and one of the guys lays down on it. I'm forced to straddle him and lower down, but they pull on the rope, forcing me to bounce. I can barely breathe.

“I almost pass out as we fuck. And fuck. And fuck. I cum.

“We cycle through guys until every single one of them has cum inside me, filling me with cream. I'm untied from the rope and then dragged to a corner and hosed off. The water is cold and stings. They hold my legs open, rinsing my privates, forcing the hose up into my pussy, rinsing me out.

“A blindfold is applied. Someone writes something on my ass, my tits, and then I'm loaded into the van again. We drive, me bound, trying to ignore the vibrator they've shoved up inside me, on high, or the nipple clamps chewing on my breasts. I hear the ocean.

“There is sand under my feet. It's dark. I can tell that much.

“I'm unbound for a moment, and then kicked hard between the legs, a blow that brings a cry of agony to my lips. I fold into the sand, dropping like a rock. They pull me into a spread eagled position and there are ropes and hammering. I'm bound spread open.

“Then the sounds fade. I'm left like that. I squirm, trying to free myself. Nothing.

“I feel the sun rise. I can't see it. But I feel it. There is no one passing. No sounds but birds. Several gulls have landed near me, but my shouts have frightened them off.

“I'm scared of them trying to eat me. Alive.

“The sun is hot. It starts baking me. Thirsty. Hot. Cooking.

“My skin begins to burn. It hurts. Agony. Please...

“Then I hear something... someone... I call for help and there are footsteps. I beg, I plead. I ask for water. Instead I feel someone move between my outstretched legs. Something wet and oily is poured on my pussy. I gasp as a cock is forced inside me.

“The pressure of his body against mine hurts... my nipples... still clamped, ache and burn. He cums. Stands. I feel droplets of his fluid on my skin. Oil...

“And then he leaves. My voice is gone. I scream silently...

“The sun goes down. I am barely conscious.

“Someone is untying me. Water is poured in my mouth and I'm lifted and dragged to a vehicle. No ropes are necessary. They throw me into the back of the van. I feel something between my legs. It’s one of them. Another cock. More oil. It just hurts. He pumps then flicks my clit. Non-stop. I can't help it. I orgasm. I cum and it hurts. I still can’t scream.

“The van stops in the parking lot I was abducted from, a full day later. I'm dumped, naked, thirsty, hurting, burned, raped, fucked, with a vibrator duct taped into my pussy, nipples clamped and weighted. And I can't even summon the strength to move. It just hurts, it just so intense. I'm found by a good Samaritan hours later, who calls the police, the paramedics, and soon I'm at the hospital.

“The doctor comes in to treat me and I shudder, thinking I recognize that touch, that laugh, that grunt and I tell the police nothing. I know what the doctor will do to me...

“What I want him to do to me… them to do to me…especially if I say nothing.

I turn back and look at Master Barrett. “That's what I'm currently in the mood to do on Monday. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

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