|
Ani Chan, by Bill Eastburn
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
**********************************************************
* This is another story from the archive of Quicksilver-Iota*
* Unless noted below, I didn't write it, so don't flame me *
* if you don't like it. To former readers, my address at*
* [email protected] is still valid, however, I *
* have switched posting to other servers to try and help *
* reduce the load on that valuable service. I recommed that*
* others do likewise; especially those who only seem to use *
* these servers to post or e-mail flames... *
* COMMENTS, REQUESTS, ETC SHOULD BE MADE IN A.S.S.D. *
***********************************************************
ANI_CHAN.xxx
Ani Chan
by Bill Eastburn
c. 1992, All Rights Reserved
My fourteenth birthday was the happiest time I can recall. Mom held a big
party and invited all the neighborhood kids. I got lots of neat presents,
and felt on top of the world. Two days later my life turned around.
I was at school when the principal came into math class and brought me back
to his office. I knew I couldn't be in trouble. I was always a good student.
Mr. Kavitz had a long, serious look on his face as he told me how a drunk
driver had hit mom's car. She did not survive the crash.
I was devastated. Even though I knew big boys don't cry, my tears apparently
didn't. My mind went numb, and tears literally rolled down my face.
Mr. Kavitz tried, but there was nothing to be done to comfort me then. Mom
was the one solid anchor in my life as well as my best friend, and now she
was gone. I don't even remember dad. He died when I was real little. So I
was now all alone in the world.
Some time later, I docilely followed a big woman from the state Human
Resources office to what would be my new foster home. None of this really
set in for a long time.
The Kramers, my new foster parents, were not like mom at all. They were very
strict and showed little, if any, affection for me. I guess they were in the
foster parent thing for the money. I was not happy there at all.
Mom had a little insurance policy on her, just about enough to cover the
burial. She had been living on the insurance from dad's death years ago, not
having the skills to get a good job, so there was not much left over for my
legacy. It was under $200, as I recall.
I went to the funeral with the Kramers, who made all the right noises for my
benefit but really did not care. The sight of mom laid out in her casket
brought the tears and numbness back. I kept wishing she would wake up to
take me home, but, deep down, I knew I would never see her again.
Life goes on, of course, and I sort of settled into the Kramer's family
routine. I was probably too numb to do much else at that point. We got along
fairly well, except when Mr. Kramer made is broad hints I should cut my long
blond hair to a style more befitting what he thought of as a boy's style. I
rebelled immediately. My hair was my pride and joy, and one thing mom had
really loved. I was not about to get it cut off for this stranger. Mrs.
Kramer finally got him to compromise. I could keep the hair if I kept it
neat and clean. It was better than nothing I guess.
While all this was going on, my school work dropped off. I just could not
apply myself to class work, and had no heart for homework. I probably should
have expected it when Mr. Kavitz called me into his office later in the year
to inform me I would not be promoted with my class. I was not expecting it,
however, and once again fell into the pits of despair.
To make matters worse, the Family Court judge had placed me in the Kramer's
care until I graduated from High School. Being left back meant I would have
to stay with them another whole year.
I guess everything that had happened over those few months pushed me over
the edge. I collected every penny I had saved over the years along with the
remains of mom's insurance check and ran away from the Kramers with little
more than the clothes on my back. I really had no idea where I was going to
go, or how I was going to survive, but I knew I had to get out of there.
I went to Canby Park and sat at one of the picnic tables for a long time
trying to decide where to go. The more I thought about it, the more
attractive a warm place seemed to me. It was late May then, so it was not
cold, but the memories of the long winter leapt into my mind unbidden.
Two places came to mind. Florida was warm, but lots of old people go there.
Besides, I had heard the Kramers planning a vacation to Disney World this
summer. That left California. Maybe I might even get lucky and find a spot
in the movies, or, at worst, become a beach bum. California it was!
Now, how was I to get there? I counted all the money in my wallet over and
over. It always came to $412.76, far short of enough for an airplane ticket.
About that time, a discarded newspaper page blew into my legs.
I picked it up, irritated at its intrusion into my privacy. I was all set to
ball it up and throw it back on the ground when I saw the big bold ad for a
'See America' pass on Amtrack. It was only $362, and 'sunny California' was
one of the destinations listed. Elated over this discovery, I took the city
bus to the train station.
The ticket seller gave me some funny looks as he took my money, but he did
sell me the ticket. I settled down on one of the hard benches to wait for my
train, which would be there in several hours. I was so excited to be on my
way, I never noticed the hard bench.
Once I got on the big silver train, I was entranced to watch America
streaming by the windows, even the industrial areas in the cities. I found
the bathroom, and slept in my seat. The train would take several days to get
to California. Once, I went to the dining car, but the prices for the
hamburger and coke I had put a big dent in the few dollars I had left. I
decided I would get some crackers or something at the next station and live
off those until I got to the west coast.
We were in St. Louis when I met Diana. I was off the train buying more
crackers. They did not seem to last as long as I hoped. The train had an
hour layover there.
I almost ran into her, literally. I was thinking of crackers, and not
watching where I was going when I saw her black dress just a few inches from
my nose. I stopped with a start and looked up to see her liquid blue eyes. I
blushed, but was not sure why.
At fourteen, I was just becoming aware of girls as different creatures. I
was still more interested in being with the guys, and girls were too
different to fit in. Yet, they were beginning to intrigue me a little. The
girls at school were changing. They no longer wanted to play ball, and their
busts were beginning to spring from their chests. Diana was different.
Her bust was obviously well developed, and she was comfortable with it. She
carried herself with the assurance of one of the guys, not the awkwardness
of a young girl going through puberty. She seemed to wear her dress
naturally, as if it were a second skin, and she did not wear the garish
makeup the girls at school played at using. In short, she was the most
beautiful creature I had ever encountered.
Diana was real friendly. She immediately put me at ease over our near crash,
and we began to talk. I learned she was 22, and on her way to Santa Fe to
visit friends. She, in turn, learned almost everything about me. I forgot
the crackers when she offered to ride with me as far as she was going.
Miles upon miles of America passed by the window, and I did not notice. I
was captivated by Diana. She was easy to talk with, even if I did most of
the talking. I had never been easy around girls, besides mom, but it was
easy with her. She was kind of like mom in some respects, but much different
in many others. I think I was smitten with puppy love during the trip. I was
sad when the train pulled into Albuquerque. That stop mean only an hour or
so left with Diana.
She seemed to know what I was thinking, because she offered to show me the
sights of Santa Fe if I got off with her. After being assured my ticket
would still be good on a later train, I agreed to stay with her for a few
days. We got off the train in Santa Fe together.
There were two big guys in suits waiting for Diana at the terminal. She went
to them and spoke for a few minutes, pointing towards me from time to time.
I could not hear a word they said, but could tell from their nods the agreed
I could come along with them. Shortly, all four of us piled into a late
model Cadillac.
Someplace near the outskirts of Santa Fe, the guys decided they were hungry
and pulled into an Italian restaurant. I was just about to say something
about my meager finances, when they told me it would be their treat for a
friend of Diana's.
Everyone in the place, from headwaiter to busboy, seemed to know Vinnie and
Sal, the two guys with me. There was a lot of good natured greetings, and
lots of smiles. Once we were seated, a guy in a black three piece suit came
over to chat with them. They introduced me to Augie, the owner of the
restaurant. I was flattered.
Sal ordered for us, since I had no idea what was on the menu. We had lots of
food, and wine ran like water. I had never had wine before, but it seemed to
go with the meal, and I agreed to try it when Vinnie and Sal insisted. It
did taste good, but I soon felt a buzz and a detachment from reality. I
recall Vinnie, Sal and Diana smiling at me as the wine hit.
"Looks like Jimmy isn't used to wine," Sal said with a chuckle.
"I guess not," Vinnie agreed, smiling broadly.
Augie came over, and handed me a pill.
"Here, kid," he said. "Take this and you'll feel better."
I took the pill eagerly, mostly to make the room stop spinning. It did, and
faded to blackness.
I have no idea how long I was out, but it must have been for some time. I
awoke groggily, feeling something was out of place.
I heard voices saying, "This will be an easy one."
"Yea. Diana did well," another voice said.
"Make sure she gets a treat for this one," the first voice replied.
"Oh, you can be sure of that," the second voice replied, chuckling.
"Aha!" the first voice said, noticing my eyes beginning to open. "Our friend
is waking."
I felt the bite of a hypodermic needle in my butt, and fell back into the
darkness.
When I woke again, I knew something was wrong. I was on my back in a bed,
but could not roll over. As my eyes opened, I discovered straps holding my
arms and legs to the bed, and one across my chest as well. A pain in my arms
made me look around, finding IV bottles attached to both arms. For a moment,
I wondered if I had been in an accident. Then I recalled the events since
Santa Fe. I screamed for attention.
A big guy, dressed in hospital whites, came into the room. He said,
"Shaddup!" Then he hit be across the face.
The force of the blow, it really an open handed slap, and its
unexpectedness, quieted my screams and brought tears to my eyes. I was in
shock as I watched the guy prepare a needle, through the blurring tears.
Almost as soon as I felt the needle in my butt, I slid back to the
blackness.
When I woke again, the scene was different. I could move around, but my arms
were held above my head somehow. As my mind cleared, other differences
became apparent. I twisted around to see what was holding my arms, and found
them attached to the headboard by a chain.
While I was twisting, I felt a strange pulling at my chest. My concentration
was on trying to find out about my arms at the moment, so I put that in the
back of my mind for the moment. As I twisted around again, wondering where I
was and what was going on, I saw Diana sitting by the bed. I really felt
reassured to see her friendly face.
Diana giggled, got up, and pulled the sheet down from my body. As I watched
her exposing me, I freaked out, for two breasts were jutting up from my
chest. I screamed.
Diana slapped me across the face.
"Quiet, dearie," she said.
Her blow was even more unexpected than the nurse's earlier. I was hurt even
more, because I thought Diana was my friend. I was also totally confused.
All at once, I felt an urgent need to urinate. I knew I couldn't get to the
bathroom, being chained to the bed, so there was only one thing to do.
"Um, Diana," I stammered.
Diana giggled at my discomfort. "I'll bet you need to pee," she said, almost
as if she could read my mind.
"It always seems to happen this way," she said.
While she was speaking, she moved my legs over the side of the bed, and
began to unchain my arms. Then she grabbed me by the arm, leading me to a
small bathroom.
My hands were now cuffed behind my back, so I could not reach down to grab
my dick and pee. I guess I figured I'd do it without aiming, or, maybe,
Diana would hold it for me.
Diana saw my hesitation, and laughed again.
"Sit down on the hopper, silly," she said, laughing harder.
I was embarrassed, but in desperate need, so I followed her suggestion. I
just managed to get seated when the gushing began. I would have a hard time
remembering when I had to go so bad, or when the relief was so good.
When I finished, Diana did a strange thing. She grabbed a couple sheets of
toilet paper and wiped my crotch area. I nearly died as I felt the paper go
inside my body.
Diana giggled as it dawned on me I had a cunt down there instead of a dick.
I turned crimson, and tears rolled down my face.
"Oh, don't be silly," she said, through her giggles. "I've had a pussy all
my life and am not embarrassed about it."
I was too choked up to answer I was a guy, and I should have a dick.
She took my arm and led me back to the bed, where she attached the chains
again. She did allow me to sit up on the bed though. As soon as I was
secured, she pressed the call button on the bed. A moment later, a guy in a
lab coat came in.
I flinched as he began to poke at me. He slapped me across the face, and I
got the idea very quickly.
"Hmmm," he murmured. "Looks good."
I was mortified as he lifted my new breasts.
"A little small," he said to himself. "I guess I'll have to fix that."
Then, he slipped his finger inside my new cunt. I have never felt so
violated in my life.
Diana, who had been quite so far, said, "Get used to it, dearie."
That pushed me over the top, and tears began rolling again.
"She'll do," the doctor said to Diana. "Bring her down to OR 4 in about half
and hour please."
"Yes sir," Diana said.
With that, the doctor left the room.
Diana was gentle as she wiped the tears from my eyes. She hugged me, and I
felt comforted, even though I knew she was no longer a friend.
"Well, I guess it is time," she said, with a sigh.
She unchained my arms, and led me out into a long, white corridor.
I panicked. I was naked, in a girl's body, being led down a long hallway
filled with men.
"Keep calm," Diana advised, whispering in my ear.
That must have been easy for her to say. She was fully dressed, and not
chained up.
We managed to get to the operating room, though I must have been red all
over. Diana had me lay on the table in the center of the room, and proceeded
to immobilize me by strapping my arms and chest to the table with thick
leather straps. Then, she maneuvered my legs into stirrups I had not noticed
at the foot of the table. With my legs up in the stirrups, I could not move,
and felt totally exposed. Tears began to well up again.
"Oh, calm down," Diana said, in an exasperated tone. "You will get used to
this after a couple of times."
A couple of times! She could not possibly mean that! I was a boy. Boys don't
have to be put in this position.
Diana obviously noted the look in my face and said, "You still haven't
figured it out yet, have you? You are a girl now. You had better get used to
that very quickly."
Until the words were said out loud, I had been holding out hope this was
some wild nightmare. Now, I could not ignore my situation. I collapsed onto
the table in long, deep sobs.
I was so enveloped in my sorrows I never noticed when Diana left the room
and the doctors entered. I was brought back to reality by a sharp pinch in a
strange place. I had never felt anything like it before, and it hurt. My
mind localized the pain in a moment, as I felt some cold, hard instruments
probing my new pussy.
"We don't usually do GYN exams in here," the doctor at my feet said, "but we
have to do another procedure and might as well do it all at once."
Murmurs of assent from other surgically garbed figures around me told me he
had not spoken those words for my benefit.
I felt the instruments withdrawn from me, and the doctor spoke again.
"She looks normal," he said.
"When I looked at her earlier, I noticed her breasts are a bit on the small
size," he continued.
"But cute," one of the others said. They all chuckled at that.
"Cute doesn't count," the doctor said, laughing. "We'll do an augmentation
now."
Augmentation?
I saw a green arm hovering over my chest, and a very cold feeling. Then my
chest lost all feeling.
My head could move a little, but not much. It was enough so I could see the
doctor take a scalpel, and do something to my breasts. He put the scalpel
down after a moment, and picked up something that looked like a plastic
baggie. He saw me looking, and moved his fingers on the baggie, making it
quiver like jello.
"Number 3 silicon form," he said, in his professional voice. "I think it
will be big enough."
I almost fainted right there, even though was not speaking for my benefit at
all. Everything so far was weird enough, but now they were building up my
new breasts.
The doctor began stuffing a baggie into my chest, obviously through an
incision he made moments ago. I felt no pain, but could feel pressure as he
seemed to be stuffing the form through a too small hole. Once he was
satisfied, he did the other side.
"OK," he said, finally. "Now, watch closely. We want to make the stitches
small and tight."
He was obviously talking to the others again.
After working for a while, he was finished.
"Very nice, if I do say so myself," he said.
"OK, staff," he said. "We have another one in room 3. Let's see if you
learned anything."
With that the group left the room.
I lay on the table for several minutes, reflecting on what was happening,
before Diana returned to lead me back to my room.
"Your breasts may be a little sore when the anesthetic wears off," she said,
chaining me to my bed again. "It will pass in a few hours, and you'll be
good as new."
Her words made me look down at my chest, which I avoided to this point. My
new breasts were now much bigger.
Diana giggled and said, "Looks about like a C cup. You'll almost be as big
as me."
She was still laughing as she left me alone.
Time passed slowly after that day. In fact, I lost track of the number of
days. The routine was the same for each one of them though. I was chained to
the bed except for twice a day, when a nurse would come and lead me to the
bathroom. I was always humiliated when the nurse wiped me, but there was
little I could do about it. At different times, another nurse came in and
fed me some kind of stuff. It tasted horrible, had the consistency of apple
sauce, and there was never enough to satisfy me. I tried to convey the last
to one of the nurses.
"You have to watch your figure," she replied, unsmiling.
The diet did not improve.
One thing consistent was none of the attendants spoke to me. I could not get
them to answer questions or tell me anything at all. Diana's conversation on
that first day, and that brief comment from the nurse, were the only words
directed at me all during this time. I had nothing to do but reflect on what
was happening to me, and what was to come.
A week, or maybe ten days, after my breast augmentation, the doctor showed
up in the room. He quickly went to work removing the stitches from his
handiwork. The only words he spoke to me were instructions to hold still.
His comment about not seeing any scarring was to himself.
The pain from the operation went away a day or so after the operation, and
the stitch removal did not hurt, though the feeling was unusual.
The day after the stitches came out, Diana came back into my room again. She
was accompanied by a big guy, who looked a bit familiar.
"Doc says she's ready," the big man said.
As soon as he spoke, I recognized the voice. That and the face clicked into
place. This was Augie, the owner of the restaurant outside of Santa Fe.
"Get her ready," Augie continued. "We'll ship her out this afternoon for
training."
"Yes sir," Diana replied.
"Oh, and Di," Augie said, as he was leaving the room, "this one is the best
yet. Get another like her and I will give you the house near Reno."
Diana was positively beaming with pleasure.
"Madam Di," he laughed, leaving. "I like that."
As soon as Augie left, Diana turned her attention to me. "Are you going to
cooperate, or do we do this the hard way?" she asked.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but the past couple of weeks had
me convinced these people were not playing games.
"I will cooperate," I said.
"Good," Diana said, smiling.
She unchained my hands, for the first time since I had come to the room, and
handed me a sheer blouse.
"Put it on," she directed.
I sighed, but resignedly put the garment on. It covered, but hid nothing on
my chest.
As soon as my arms were in the blouse, Diana put the handcuffs back on.
She produced a very short, red wrap skirt, which she draped around my waist.
I was dismayed to see it showed most of my leg, just covering my crotch, and
wrapped a very short distance over itself. It was obviously designed so it
would show almost everything when I walked.
A pair of very high heels followed, and completed my dressing.
"Don't you look cute," Diana said, giggling, as I tottered on the unfamiliar
heels.
"Come on," she said, taking me by the arm.
She led me through the halls again, and outside to the desert.
As I suspected, the skirt parted widely whenever I took a step. My newly
augmented tits bounced all over my chest as I walked as well. Perhaps, tried
to walk on those heels would be a more appropriate description. All in all,
being dressed like this was as humiliating as being paraded down the hall
nude.
There was a small jet waiting on the desert runway. Diana led me right up
the ramp, and buckled me in one of the seats. She slipped a padlock through
the ends of the seatbelt, so there was no way I could move from the seat.
Before she left, she handed the key to the pilot, and kissed me on the
cheek.
"Learn well, cutie," she whispered. "Maybe you can come work for me some
day."
With that, she departed, probably to go find someone else for whatever was
going on.
Several other passengers got on a few minutes later, big men in suits. I
gather this flight was for them, and I was just going in the same direction.
The flight was fairly uneventful. We flew for several hours, mostly in
darkness. One of the big guys sat next to me and toyed with my new breasts
for most of the flight. He slapped me when I started to protest, so I let
him have his way. It would be much less painful, I figured.
One of the big guys got the key to my seatbelt from the pilot when we
landed, and unlocked it. He grabbed my arm and led me, not too gently, off
the plane. I stumbled along on the high heels, trying to not fall on my
face. We went into a large house.
Just inside the door, someone behind me slipped an iron collar around my
neck, locking it with a snap. My handcuffs were unlocked.
"Take of clothes," a harsh voice said.
I must have been too slow for them, for I received a smack across the face
and felt the blouse ripped off me when I hesitated a moment. The skirt was
removed just as quickly.
I kicked off the shoes myself, both anxious to get off those heels, and to
avoid whatever rough method they might use to remove them.
I felt a chain slip around the collar, and was led by it to a small room
upstairs. The chain was locked to a radiator pipe, and I was left alone for
a while.
I surveyed the room. A very thin mattress adorned most of the 6 by 8 foot
room. It looked terribly uncomfortable, but I was almost ready to sit down
on it when the door opened again.
A middle aged women came in, unlocked my chain, and led me out of the room.
She said nothing to me, just pulled me along by my leash.
We went to another room, almost twice the size of mine, but whose main
feature was a barber chair and some sinks. I was thrust into the chair, and
the woman strapped me in place. I could not move a muscle when she was done.
The older woman left, and several others came in. The proceeded to wash my
hair, trim it, and load it down with chemicals. I felt them violating my
beautiful blond hair, and the tears rolled down my cheeks. This merited me a
slap from one girl, who had been rubbing some kind of cream all over my
face. I must have been in that chair, suffering all manner of indignities,
for several hours.
There were no mirrors in the room, so I had no real idea what they had done
to me. I could see my fingernails and toenails were painted, and assumed
they had me all painted up on the face as well.
The old woman came back, and led me back to my room by the leash again. She
locked it lower on the pipe this time, and I was forced to lie back on the
mattress. When she saw me there, she smiled and left.
I lay on the mattress, which was every bit as uncomfortable as it had
looked, for some time. There was little I could do about it anyway. Then the
door opened.
The guy who had fondled my tits during the flight entered, and proceeded to
strip all his clothes off. Without a word, he placed his knees on either
side of my head, and drew my head to his crotch.
"Suck!" he ordered.
Not sure what to do, I hesitated. He slapped me hard, causing me to gasp.
While my mouth was open, he stuck his penis inside.
"Suck!" he repeated.
I pulled my head back a fraction of an inch, but he merely placed his hand
on the back of my head, and forced it forward. I began to suck, hoping to
get the intruding penis out of me as soon as possible.
He began moving my head back and forth with is big hands, causing his penis
to slide in my mouth. I kept sucking, hoping to get this humiliation over
with as soon as possible.
Soon, I felt a salty taste in my mouth. I thought he had come at last, and I
would be free of the intruder momentarily. I was wrong. He intensified the
sliding of my head, and his penis seemed to double in size, almost choking
me. Then, it began to twitch violently, and I felt loads of his semen
spurting deep into my throat.
As he came, he forced my head tighter to his crotch. I could barely breath,
and his penis was spurting deeper down my throat.
"Swallow!" he ordered.
I had already swallowed some of his semen. I could not help it, it came in
too violently, and had nowhere else to go. Now, I had to force myself to
swallow the rest of it. Maybe that would satisfy him, and he would get his
big prick out of my throat.
He felt me swallowing, but held me tight to his crotch for several minutes,
until he was satisfied I swallowed everything. Then, he allowed my head to
fall back slowly.
"Suck!" he demanded, even as his penis began to slid out of my throat.
I sucked for all I was worth, hoping to get this torment over.
His dick began to get limber, and smaller, and he finally allowed it to pass
my lips. He would not let me go yet, though.
"Kiss!" he demanded.
I kissed his prick gingerly.
"Kiss!" he demanded again, much louder now.
I closed my eyes and planted a big smacker on the head of his penis. That
seemed to satisfy him.
He got dressed and left without another word.
I lay on the mattress, humiliated, and reminded of the humiliation by the
taste of his semen in my mouth.
This scene was repeated three more times over the next hour or so. I began
to get the idea what was expected of me, and resigned myself to this
humiliation whenever the door opened.
As the day wore on, I had more and more visitors. With each one, I became
more accustomed to giving head, though the humiliation of having to never
left me. I began to notice how each man had a slightly different taste, and
a slightly different technique. When I caught myself thinking about this, I
became even more humiliated.
In the late afternoon, the first guy came back again. He started out just as
before, but removed his penis as soon as it became hard. He slid down my
body, forcing my legs apart, and entered my cunt without further
preparation.
His first few thrusts hurt terribly. He was lubricated from my saliva, but
my pussy was dry. This changed after a few thrusts, and his prick slide in
and out much easier. I just lay there, enduring his thrusting and feeling my
breasts bouncing all over my chest, as his thrusts moved me. I can't say I
enjoyed my initiation into womanhood, but it could have been worse.
When he was finished, he brought his mucus covered dick back to my mouth,
and forced me to suck it clean. Then he got dressed and left, without
another word.
The humiliation of my situation returned with a vengeance as he left,
particularly when his semen began to drain out of me and down my leg. I
found out why I had heard women complain about the wet spot that afternoon.
Seven more men came in to use me over the next few hours. I counted each
one. Some were rougher than others. Some played with my tits, others with my
cunt, and allowed me to become lubricated. Others just began dry. One even
brought me to a small orgasm. Still, it was humiliating.
As darkness fell, a couple women came into the room. They gave me a douche,
cleaning me for the first time, and repaired my makeup and hair. I guess
being used the way I had been really did damage to the beautician's work
earlier.
When the women were finished their repairs, one of them unchained me, and
led me from the room. I was taken downstairs, and chained under a big dinner
table. I had an idea what was to come by now, but hoped it would not.
Before long, legs appeared all around the table. They were all men's legs. I
heard Augie's voice above the din, obviously addressing me.
"Cunt!" he said. "Start sucking!"
I hesitated for a moment, and got a kick in the butt for my waiting. I
figured I better comply.
I picked a set of legs, unzipped the pants, and began to suck, blushing all
the while.
When I finished with him, I had a mouthful of semen and nowhere to deposit
it. I had to swallow. A hand appeared under the table with a scrap of food
in it. I grabbed it greedily. It was the first real food I had seen in days.
Augie's voice called out, "Cunt, now you get the idea. You suck and if you
do a good job, you get table scraps. Otherwise, the cum is your dinner. Now
suck!"
It was a long dinner, more than long enough for me to get to each cock. Most
of the time, I got a table scrap when I got done. I tried to stop for a
breather once, but got a kick in the ribs for my trouble, so I just kept
going around the table.
I thought I was done when I saw the men leaving the table, and heard it
being cleared. Once again, I was wrong.
One of the women crawled under the table, and unclipped my leash. She
brought me out from under the table, them pushed me so I was bent over it.
She clipped the chain to a hook on the other side of the table, so I
couldn't get up, then left me.
I felt a rough hand feeling my butt. I tried to steel myself for what I knew
was going to come, but could not even imagine the pain as his cock thrust
roughly into my asshole. I screamed out through my tears of pain.
"She hurts!" Augie cried, laughing.
"She must be too tight," another laughing male voice said.
"I guess we'll just have to loosen her up," Augie said. A chorus of laughter
followed this pronouncement.
Every thrust into my ass was like a spear inside me. I probably stopped
crying out after about ten. It was not that the pain lessened, it was
getting hard to breathe and cry at the same time.
Augie left his load in me, and was immediately replaced by another man. Each
one of the diners took a turn on my butt.
When the last one got finished, I heard Augie laugh. "I think she's loose
now," he said.
The others laughed heartily at my humiliation.
I was left chained to the table for a long time, sure all the men were
ogling me, but unable to see them.
"Cunt!" Augie said, sometime later. "You are nothing but a cheap whore. You
are in training now. When you learn your lessons to our satisfaction, we
will put you out on the street. Do you understand me?"
I fought back my tears and said, "Yes."
The hard smack on my sore butt came before his words, "Yes SIR!"
"Yes sir!" I repeated.
"Good!" Augie said. "Camilla, take this whore back to her crib"
With that, I was taken back to my room and again chained so I had to lie on
the mattress.
Several men came and used me that night. I did not resist, or even check to
see which ones they were. I just surrendered to them.
I woke up the next morning to find a man's cock right in front of my lips.
As the man's hand came behind my head, I opened my lips to accept this
degradation. I sucked for all I was worth.
"You're learning," Augie's voice said, laughing.
He climbed off me, got dressed and left without another word. I waited to
see what humiliation would be next.
--
[email protected] (Siegfried Rambaum)
Unix Mailbox Baldham 08106-34593 PEP/V.32 08106-34692 HST
|
|
