Shameful Reckonings (22 page)

“Look, Sigrid,” Mistress jerked roughly on the leash. Fearful of what she would see, Sigrid raised her head and looked.

It was a typical cell for this place: Unpainted cinderblock walls, bare cement floor, unshielded lights dangling from overhead. There was the usual thin pad. Ayesha was kneeling on it. The collar she wore was a twin of Sigrid’s. Her arms were bound tightly behind her at the wrists and elbows. White rope had been used to bind her. It contrasted starkly with her dark skin. A hooded man stood in front of Ayesha. She was slowly and lovingly sucking his cock, turning her head from one side to the other between strokes. The man had his hand on her head. As she sucked, he would grunt with pleasure. All Sigrid could see of the man’s skin were his bare arms. They were thickly covered with coarse, curly hair. Sigrid shuddered as she thought she recognized Bogo.

“This is just a little refresher course for you, Sigrid,” Mistress said cheerfully. She patted Sigrid’s head. “Watch and learn.” She jerked on Sigrid’s leash for emphasis.

“Yes, Mistress,” Sigrid said. In her cage, Ayesha opened her eyes and glared at her. There was cold hatred behind those dark eyes. Ayesha’s rhythm broke, and Bogo slapped her hard. He got what grip he could on Ayesha’s short, short hair and used it to force her down onto his cock. Ayesha choked and coughed, but she did not fight. When Bogo released his grip, she resumed sucking his cock, faster and deeper now. Bogo grunted deeply and patted her head. Ayesha whimpered. As she sucked, she made wet little noises. Bogo edged closer to her, forcing her to lean back or gag on his thick member. Sigrid wanted to close her eyes or look away, but that would not block out those sounds, and in any case, Mistress would notice and disapprove. The last thing Sigrid wanted to incur was the disapproval of Mistress. She told herself that she did not like Ayesha anyway, and continued watching.

Bogo grew more excited, and his grunts came faster. When he put his hand on the back of Ayesha’s head, she whined plaintively through her nose, as if begging for a mercy she knew she would never get. Bogo grunted loudly, holding Ayesha in place as he thrust his cock a little deeper into her mouth. Ayesha squalled, and her face darkened.

Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Sigrid watched as Bogo emptied himself into Ayesha’s mouth. He let go of the woman at last, pulled his cock out of her mouth, and took it in his hand to slap her with it. Ayesha flinched, her eyes shut tight. She bowed her head. Sigrid saw a trickle of Bogo’s cum escape from the corner of Ayesha’s mouth. Then Ayesha raised her head, tilting it back, her face contorted as if she tasted something incredibly bitter. She swallowed audibly before she opened her mouth to gasp for breath. She opened her eyes and looked up at Bogo. She gasped once more.

“Thank you, master,” Ayesha huffed. “May I clean your cock now?”

Bogo only grunted. Ayesha leaned forward and began to lick his cock. Sigrid could not suppress a shudder.

“Come, Sigrid,” Mistress pulled on the leash. Sigrid’s head dropped as she crawled along obediently. She felt trapped, desperate. When they reached the next cell door, Mistress opened it.

“Inside, bitch,” Mistress ordered. Sigrid sobbed. She could see the pad she would kneel on. She did not see Paul. He was not in the cell. She crawled into the cell and onto the pad.

“Kneel,” Mistress commanded, tugging upwards on the leash. Sigrid obeyed. All she could do now was not let anyone see her cry. The two bodyguards entered the cell. One pulled Sigrid’s arms behind her. She heard the click of a padlock and realized that her wrist cuffs were now locked together. A moment later, her fettered hands were seized and pulled up to just below her shoulder blades. Something tugged at her collar, and she heard another click. When they let go of her, Sigrid realized that her wrists were locked in that uncomfortable position. Struggling to pull them back down only pulled her collar against her throat, threatening to choke her.

One of the bodyguards grabbed her by the back of her neck, forcing her head down until her nose was almost touching the worn and faded pad on which she was kneeling.

“You must keep very still now, Sigrid,” Mistress told her. “You need a
lot
of training, I’m afraid.”

It was a little difficult to breathe, bent over like this. Then Sigrid felt rough hands pulling her ass cheeks wide. She yelped, protesting, and began to struggle. It earned her a hard, open-handed swat on her ass. She yelped again, and quit struggling. She felt thick fingers probing, spreading her wider, and then something cool and slippery was applied directly to her anus. She shrieked at the contact, her muscles clenching involuntarily. She shuddered and whimpered as the cool-and-slippery something was spread around generously.

“Be very still,” Mistress ordered. Sigrid tried to obey, but she could not help trembling. When she felt something hard being thrust into her anus, she wailed despairingly. It did not feel like a finger, or a cock, but whatever it was stretched her wider and wider as it was thrust home. Just as she thought it would tear her, it suddenly narrowed, slipping easily in the rest of the way. Now she was trembling violently. She could
feel
the invader inside of her, and it was a sensation she’d never experienced before. She felt oddly stuffed. Her muscles kept clenching against the thing, trying to expel it, but it would not move.

“Your first training plug,” Mistress said, standing over her. “You’ve never been penetrated that way before, have you, Sigrid?”

“No, Mistress,” Sigrid admitted with a shudder. She thought she had felt debased before. Now she realized that her debasement was going to plumb depths she had never even thought of. Rape was not the end of it. Using her mouth would not be the end of it. It was as Ayesha had said: They would fuck her up her ass as well. The only question was when. She felt something inside of her break.

“Let her up, now,” Mistress ordered. “Give her a moment to compose herself. Paul will be here soon.”

The hand on the back of her neck was removed. Sigrid slowly knelt upright, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling of the plug. She heard the cell door being unbolted. She was sure of who had done it, but she just had to look.

“Hello, Sigrid,” Paul Marengo smiled down at her. “You look especially lovely like that.” He was wearing a suit, of all things.

Sigrid felt her face grow hot. She looked down and away. “Thank you, Master,” she said weakly. Paul stepped directly in front of her, placing his feet well apart. Sigrid heard the sound of a zipper.

“Suck, Sigrid,” Mistress ordered.

Sigrid turned her head back to Paul. He was smiling down at her, obviously enjoying himself. His big, thick, black cock was out, already half-erect in anticipation. Sigrid hesitated for as long as she dared. Had Paul been suitably generous with gifts, she might have done this for him as a small reward before more conventional lovemaking. Now, she was forced to do it, and all he would give her for her efforts was a mouthful of cum. She leaned forward, her mouth open, and took the head of his cock between her lips. She leaned forward a little further, taking more of him into her mouth. She heard him exhale loudly, a long, deep ‘ahhhh’ as she did so. She closed her eyes and felt him take her head between his hands. She took him in a little deeper, trying to work up the saliva she would need. She could feel his cock throbbing, swelling, growing harder in her mouth, and she whimpered. She leaned forward as far as she dared, and discovered that Paul did not shave all of his body. The head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat. She coughed and gasped around the heavy shaft, pulling back until the head was just behind her lips. She leaned forward slowly. Her saliva was flowing freely now.

It helped to keep her eyes closed and treat cock sucking as a purely mechanical act. With her eyes closed, Sigrid could ignore the small crowd clustered around her in the cell: Mistress, the two bodyguards, and the dog. She knew they were watching, but if she couldn’t see them she could pretend that they weren’t there. Then she felt someone pressing up against her from behind. Slim-fingered hands, she recognized them as Mistress’, reached up to cup and squeeze her breasts. Sigrid’s eyes flew open. She did not dare to stop sucking, even when Mistress pinched her nipples lightly and then not so lightly. Sigrid grunted in pain around the slab of meat in her mouth. She heard Paul groan. It sounded as if he did it through clenched teeth. He groaned again, more loudly. Sigrid shuddered. Mistress was hugging her closely now. Evan as she was fondling Sigrid’s breasts, Sigrid’s pinioned hands were pressed against hers through the material of Mistress’ dress. It was too much. There were too many distractions now: Mistress, the watching eyes of the guards, the heavy panting of the dog, the plug… it was impossible to pretend now, impossible to let her mouth and lips and tongue do their work without paying more than the minimum amount of attention. And then Paul grabbed her head in both hands, thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth, groaning loudly as he came.

Sigrid squealed, her eyes wide open. Paul never let go. He stabbed his cock into her mouth and groaned with each spurt of thick, salty fluid. Sigrid dared not do anything but hold still for him as he used her mouth and tried not to cough or gag. He held her tightly for a long moment after he was finished until she finally dared to look up at him pleadingly. He laughed then. Still gripping her, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and then tilted her head up so that she was looking directly up at him. He was smiling. It was a smile of triumph. Sigrid pursed her lips, trying not to think of the millions of wriggling sperm moving over her teeth, her gums and her tongue. She used her tongue to push some of the fluid forward until it could escape from the corner of her mouth. She felt it slowly dribble down her chin and hang there. She shut her eyes tightly and swallowed audibly.

“Th-th-thank you, Master,” she stammered, trying hard not to burst into tears. “May I clean your cock now?”

“Excellent, Sigrid,” Mistress purred into her ear. Her fingers still caressed and squeezed the soft, creamy flesh of Sigrid’s breasts. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Sigrid did not answer. Paul had released his grip on her, and she was already taking his big, black cock into her mouth to suck and lick it clean.

Chapter Nine

Sigrid heard the door to her cell being unbolted. It was a loud sound, metallic, and it echoed from the dreary cinderblock walls. It would have woken her from a much sounder sleep than she could get in her cell. The thin pad had not been much for comfort, but now all she had were two old blankets that barely kept the chill of the bare cement floor from her skin. Wearily, half-asleep, she struggled to get up on her knees, facing the doorway. It was the prescribed position. She was coming to know it very well. She flicked her head to get her hair out of her eyes. They had tied her long blonde hair back in a ponytail so that it would not get in the way, but odd strands kept coming loose and tickling her nose. Her breasts jiggled heavily from the movement.

She did not know how long she had been kept in this cell: Her sleep was constantly being interrupted by visitors. On occasion, they would feed her or give her water. It was always welcome, but it was never enough. On other occasions they would replace her training plug with a thicker one. Right now, it felt like they’d stuffed a fencepost up her ass. Her wardrobe was down to the black leather collar circling her neck and the shining metal handcuffs that locked her wrists behind her. Sometimes her captors added a leash.

Two people entered her cell. One was a woman of about thirty-five, clad in a dark, conservative business suit. The skirt came down to mid-calf, and she wore chunky, low-heeled shoes. Her dark-brown hair was done up in a bun, and she was smiling. Sigrid recognized her. She was Mistress Anna, and she was as warm and friendly as a rattlesnake. Just behind her, and off to one side, stood a much younger man, tall and thin. He wore faded jeans, a colorful island shirt and sandals. His hair was light brown and wispy. He was going prematurely bald, which might explain the goatee he was cultivating. Behind the gold wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes widened as he looked down at Sigrid. His gaze took in the rich curves of her body, the stark contrasts of her tan lines.

“Oh, wow!” he exclaimed. “A beach-bunny Valkyrie!” He grinned toothily, hungrily.

“Tell him your name, bitch,” Mistress Anna smiled.

“I am called Sigrid, master,” Sigrid responded.

“Even better!” the man exulted. Out of the corner of her eye, Sigrid caught the subtle hand signal that Mistress Anna made.

“I am here to serve you, master,” Sigrid recited by rote. She wanted to scream and yell instead of playing this submissive role, but something had gone out of her. She had lost track of how many men had been brought here to use her. Did the number even matter any more? There would be others after this one, another nameless cock in her mouth or in her cunt, intent only on taking pleasure from a chained and naked female captive.

The man came forward, his hands fumbling with his zipper. When he stood right in front of her and pulled his cock out, Sigrid knew beyond doubt what he wanted. She rose up on her knees and leaned forward, opening her mouth for him. She took his cock between her lips and began fellating him. It wasn’t easy at first. He was long, but soft at first. She felt his cock swell and harden in her mouth. He took her head in his hands, as if he was worried that she might try to pull away. Sigrid whimpered at his touch. She had been ordered to respond that way. She had been given other orders as well. She began to suck hungrily, with short, quick movements of her head and upper body, tilting her head from one side to the other. She heard him groan. She took him in as deeply as she could without gagging or coughing.

It did not take long. When she felt the first familiar, hated spurt of semen into her mouth, Sigrid stopped moving with the head of his cock just tickling her tonsils. It was a sensation she had learned to bear. She shut her eyes tightly, contorting her face and making tiny grunts through her nose with each spurt of cum. She heard him groaning.