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Ch 7 Candy’s submission, Part 2
Usual disclaimers: Do not try this at home. Keep away from children. Void where prohibited. Also do not dispose of human waste in dumpsters, it is a health hazard.
I did not get too much sleep that Thursday night. The cell in the dungeon was quite cold. We had made it that way. The floor was bare concrete. We had removed the carpeting. Lying down on the thin piece of carpet was uncomfortable to say the least. The thin blanket did not keep me warm. The manacles attached to my throat collar did help, I had not come since Saturday, what with my clitoris burnt, and Simon had guessed, rightly so, that I would have given myself a nice orgasm, had my hands been free. I deserved one. He could have just forbidden me to play with myself and I would have obeyed, I think.
He gets me on Friday morning. He opens the door to the cage,
and releases my hands. He points me to the bathroom in the basement, and tells
me to shower, prepare myself and pack my cosmetics. He has arranged my cosmetics
in it while I slept. He has also removed the handles of the hot water spigots.
I have to shower and wash up with cold water. This being mid October in
He has made breakfast. Coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, green peppers and hash browns. I am starving and eat ravenously. I am sitting at the kitchen table. He is fully dressed, in jeans and shirt, and I am bare ass naked. I enjoy the coffee, and have another mug. After I’m done, he asks me to go to the bedroom and put on the clothes he set out for me on the bed.
A short white dress with no sleeves, lacy see through bra,
matching thong, a black leather dog collar with steel
loops on it, and fuck me pumps. I look out the window. The sky is leaden, an
overcast the color of gun metal. It can get very cold, very fast in
I walk back down to the kitchen. He tells me to sit down and serves me another coffee. He gives me now my instructions:
“The man you are going to belong to is Alvaro Vega. I have no doubts you will not let me down. Your ride will be here in a minute. You can still back out of this if you want”
There is nothing I would want to do more than back out of this.
“No Simon, I will obey your instructions.”
“Here is your ride”
I get up, and walk to the door. He kisses me, opens the door and says simply:
“Go”
I walk out, feeling like a slut, dressed like this on a Friday morning. A black limo has pulled out in front of our driveway. The driver opens the back door for me. I notice how cold it is and something cold and wet touches my nose. A snowflake. I get in the car. The heater is on.
The driver gets in. “Good morning ma’am. It’s a cold day today. We may have a big snowstorm”
He is quite chatty. It’s just another day at work for him. I answer with a few platitudes; my mind is not in the conversation. I realize this is not a private limo; it belongs to a service that we often use. Simon has an account with them. He works in a public position and cannot afford to have a DUI, so every time we go out, he hires a limo.
We go west, along the intestate, soon the driver gets out. I seldom come to this part of town. It is a Mexican area, children look at the limo. Probably not many of these cars drive around here or maybe not.
He stops in front of a medium size house. “It’s here ma’am” He opens the door for me. The front yard is uncared for. The bushes untrimmed. I walk to the house and knock on the door. My knees are shaking, and it is not only from the cold.
A Mexican woman opens the door. “Yes, what do you want?” She speaks with a thick Mexican accent. “Please, I’m looking for Alvaro Vega” She turns around and yells: “Alvaro: Una pinche de gringa pregunta por ti!” She looks at me and says “Wait here”
I stay at the door. The snow is falling a little harder now, the limo is gone. I am freezing.
A man comes: “You must be Candy” “Yes sir” He gestures me
in, closes the door and says “Strip gringa” I hesitate for only a second. My dress unzips from
the front. I remove it, and stand there in my lacy bra and thong. Before I can
continue he twirls his finger. I pivot in place. He leers at me and says “Everything
but the shoes and collar” I take off my bra and thong. He opens a closet and
points “Put it in there” I do so. He takes a leash, clips it to the collar and walks
into the kitchen. The woman is sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes.
She is middle aged, about 5 feet but around 240Lbs or more. Her hair is long,
black and unkempt. She is wearing a drab housedress.
“¿Que haces con esa gringa?” She asks. She doesn’t realize I understand Spanish.
“No es asunto tuyo vieja” It’s not your business.
He has me kneel at a corner of the kitchen. I do so; sit back on my heels, with my legs open and eyes downcast. I am trying to be as submissive and unobtrusive as possible. Something really hard to do, when kneeling in a kitchen, naked, with a leash on your neck and a fat Mexican woman looking at you with murder in her eyes. I realize now I really need to go to the bathroom. All that coffee, plus the cold, I really need to go. I ask the man, as humbly as I can. He looks at me, opens a closet full of newspapers, gives me a few, opens the backyard door and points out:
“You go there”
I blush, no I turn red, beet red, I’m sure. I try to stall, but it will not work, he is looking at me. She looks too. “Pinche de Gringa” She says. I get up, leashed, and walk to the backyard. I squat over the newspaper facing Alvaro Vega, figuring it would be pointless to try to do it with my back to him. I close my eyes. “Open your eyes” He orders immediately. Even that small comfort is denied to me. Looking at the ground, I squat over the newspapers and release my water. I finish. “Wrap it all up and throw it in the dumpster” There is a thin layer of snow on the ground now.
We return to the house. I resume kneeling in the corner. Alvaro ties my hands behind my back; then goes somewhere and returns with two alligator clamps each attached to a small bell. I figure where they are going. He places a clamp on each nipple. They hurt but not inordinately so. I whimper a little, but hold position. He flicks the bells. The woman laughs.
Alvaro then picks up the phone and calls some friends. “Tengo una gringa para hoy”
He tells them. I am obviously going to be the entertainment for tonight’s social event.
Alvaro is about 5’6” and 200 Lbs. with a beer belly. He seems to be enjoying himself. His wife, if it is his wife, doesn’t seem to appreciate having a gringa less than half her weight parading naked on her kitchen. He leaves.
After a while his wife approaches me. “Puta gringa, me vas a servir para algo” She approaches me, bringing her chair, sits in front of me and pulls her skirt up. She isn’t wearing any undies; it is obvious what she wants. I lean forward, into her thatch and get to work. She smells quite bad; like a dead fish left out for too long. I fight nausea as I stick my face into her pussy and start sucking and licking. She grabs my head and mashes it into her crotch. I try as hard as I can to bring her off. I’ve never done it with a woman before, but I try my best, and soon I am rewarded by her juices squirting in my face.
She pulls back now, sated. She pats my head; like you would a cat or a dog, and resumes getting dinner ready. I resume my position, kneeling in the corner.
Soon after, the outer door opens; a boy, laughing runs into the kitchen, he stops when he sees me. He is about ten. He runs up to me, I am so embarrassed, naked, kneeling here, with the drying cunt juice of that woman drying on my face, but I do not dare move. He notices the little bells hanging from my nipples and flicks one of them. I whimper a little. I hear his mother’s voice ‘What are you doing in the kitchen? Go do your homework” The child runs out of the kitchen.
The woman comes in and slaps me. “Why are you corrupting my child?” She grabs a belt and strikes me furiously on my ass and belly. I cry bitterly; I have done nothing, yet I am being punished. I should get used to that, I guess. She leaves, leaving me to my misery.
Time passes, slowly. Alvaro returns, and removes the clamps from my nipples. The pain from the blood returning is excruciating. He tells me to stand and wash my face. I do so at the kitchen sink. Unasked I use cold water; I figure he would probably punish me if I tried to use the hot one.
“I am going to put you to some use. Mario turned 15 today and he has never been with a woman. You are going to go to his room and teach him. Make sure he uses you well. I will ask him all about how it went, so I know you did a good job. If he is not satisfied, or I feel that you did not teach him well, you will be sorry you ever met me.” He should have said sorrier. I am already sorry I ever met him.
I follow him, nude, on my high heels to a room inside the house. He opens the door and we go in. Mario is sitting at a desk, and turns around as we walk in. His eyes seem ready to pop out of their sockets as she sees me.
Alvaro cheerfully says: “Mario, here is your birthday
present. Have fun with her. It is now
Mario is taller than his father, and still thin, a shadow of a developing moustache on his upper lip, but otherwise beardless. His hair is black, neither long nor short, with a cowlick on his right side. He is wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. The jeans cannot hide his growing erection. He stands there, by his desk, uncertain of what his next step should be.
I feel embarrassed; I know that in some Mexican families it is customary to hire a hooker for the male children when they turn 15. I am being treated like a common whore. I realize rapidly that I have to do a good job of teaching this kid about sex. So I smile at him and ask him: “I hear you have not had sex yet” He nods. I approach him and touch his arm. “You will enjoy it, I promise” He smiles. I take his right hand and place it on my breast. He tentatively at first then more firmly kneads it. I start to get aroused by this adolescent boy. He pinches my nipple, I gasp. I embrace him while he continues to play with my breast. He has a very good idea of what to do; he will just need a little guidance. I take his other hand and take it to my pussy, which is sopping wet by now. He explores the moist folds, clumsily. I move back slightly and unbutton his shirt, then I caress his hairless chest. I kiss it, nibble at it. Then I kneel in front of him and, while looking up into his eyes, unbuckle his belt, remove it and lay it on the ground. Should I teach him how to spank a woman with a belt? I decide to do that later, if there is time. I unbutton and drop his pants. He stands excited, with his erect penis tenting his white briefs. I remove them too. He is well hung, 8 inches of uncircumcised teenage ardor. I take his penis into my hand, and uncover his glans, which I am sorry to see is not too clean. They do not seem to take personal hygiene too seriously in this house. Nevertheless, I begin to lick at it, clean it, kiss it. He trembles in excitement. I know he will not last long. I take him in my mouth and suck on him. He cannot take it any more and comes explosively in my mouth. I hold his seed in my mouth until he is done, then releasing him, fall down on my heels, look up at him, lips open, letting him see his spunk in my mouth, and swallow.
He sits on the bed, amazed. I smile at him again, and notice that his penis is again twitching. I thought it would. I press on his chest and have him lie down on the unmade bed. Again I excite him, caress his body, his chest, legs, balls, semi erect penis. I bring his hand again to my pussy, still wet, and he now takes the initiative and explores on his own, my pussy, my ass. I sit back on the bed, spread my legs and let him see my sex, open, inviting. He is erect again. I lie back and bring him to me. He needs no further coaching and pounds at my entrance. I guide him in, and he starts thrusting, pounding. I get more excited too. I have not had anyone inside my pussy since Saturday; almost a week. I have been unable to touch myself since then too. Today’s humiliating treatment has had an effect on me also. I cannot help myself and start coming, just as he, taking longer this time, grunts and spills his load in my insides.
We take a little longer to recover this time. He fondles my
breasts. We rest. He falls into a light sleep, more like a short nap. I
appreciate the opportunity of lying in a soft bed, even this dirty one,
redolent of sweat and sex. I figure that I won’t sleep in such a comfortable
place tonight. I nap a little and wake up at
He puts his pants and shirt on and takes me back to the kitchen. Alvaro is there, and he examines me. “Good” he says. He points at the closet with the newspapers. I grab a bunch of them then follow him outside. It is getting darker and the snow is falling heavily. Naked and shivering I walk beside the dumpster. I squat to do number two; he bends behind me and watches his son’s semen coming out of both my holes. He shows me a pail of cold water, soap, washrag, and a towel. I realize that the lack of hygiene in the house does not apply to me. In the freezing weather I wash myself as best I can.
Inside the house he lets me use the bathroom to fix my makeup. I surreptitiously look at my ass, heavily striped by the belt. After I am done he takes me to the living room, where I am made to kneel by the coffee table. He ties my hands behind my back and puts out a thin whippy cane.
“My friends will be here soon gringa. We will have some fun then”
I realize then, as if I did not know already, my evening will not be pleasant.
His friends arrive around six. It is already dark. They leer at me as they enter the living room. There are four of them. I can’t make out their names. I could probably figure out their names, if they called each other by them, but they call each other by all kinds of epithets. Pendejo, Pinche Cabron, and many others I can’t recall. They drink beer, and spank my ass as they pass beside me, or they slap my breasts. I maintain position, kneeling, hands tied behind my back, eyes downcast. It is about half an hour before they pay me any more attention. I wish it was longer.
Alvaro unties my hands, and they all sit around me. I am to go around blowing them one by one. I must open their flies, take out their dicks, and blow them one after the other. I start with one of them, I do not know which. Their smells mix in my nose, their taste in my mouth, and their semen in my gullet. I blow all five of them. They laugh, and get excited again. They tell me to lie face down on top of the coffee table. Alvaro picks up the cane. I ask for a gag, he ignores me. I ask for a pillow; he throws one of the throw pillows from the sofa. I bury my head in it.
Thwack! I scream into my pillow. Again and again, the cane falls on my ass, my thighs. I scream and scream. I wish I was tied, so I would not be afraid of moving, of trying to escape. The cane is really horrible. I realize it is not only Alvaro holding the cane, they hand it off to each other; I can tell because the pause between strikes is longer when they hand it off. Fortunately they are not as skilled as Simon or Robert. They strike too fast. Before the pain of one cut ebbs, they are hitting me again. Some of the effect is lost. After a while the strokes meld into each other. Even though they moved up to my back, my pain receptors are becoming saturated. The pain becomes one huge ball of fire on my back.
After a while, silence; a pause. They got tired of this game and move around. I can hear them, but, my head buried in the pillow, I can’t see them.
I catch my breath. I recover some of my composure. I wait for instructions. My back is on fire.
I feel someone at my rear. A hand touches me, I am dry. An erect penis touches me, and forces itself into me. My vagina responds slowly, but respond it does. I begin to get wet. He thrusts and thrusts harder; he comes into me, and slips out. A second shaft enters, thrusts, thrusts, comes, and leaves. A third follows then a fourth and a fifth. My back burns from the caning. Where the cane has cut into the skin, I feel the sting of the sweat that covers my back; some of it is even my own. They have me kneel again; I feel the semen of many men slipping out of me.
They tie me to a chair, my hands behind its back. My breasts exposed. I tremble with fear when I realize they will cane my breasts. They do. The pain is worse than anything I’ve endured until now. Even the burning of my pussy was more bearable than this; at least Simon was there to enjoy it. I scream myself hoarse. They stop. My head falls on my chest. How much more of this can I endure? Time passes. The men leave. Incredulous, I lift my head, I look at the clock. It is now 10.
Alvaro unties me. He takes me to the kitchen. I already know what to do. Pick up the newspapers, and step out into the snow. Afterwards he gives me a carpet and a thin blanket. He fills a bowl with water and leaves it on the floor; again, I do not need instructions, without using my hands I drink from it. He points to a corner in the kitchen. I curl up there.
I wonder why did Simon leave me here, and how does having me here, away from him, please him. I had expected that any tortures would have been documented on video; I would then have had the comfort of knowing that he would see it, he could observe my suffering and enjoy it; maybe while getting a blowjob from Vicky. That would have made it worthwhile. Instead, I feel abandoned, forgotten, given to Alvaro to torture and humiliate; and he will never even know what I endured for him. Then perhaps, that is what he wants, to know that I am suffering at his whim, and suffering more, because he can’t see it. And then thinking of Simon, I cry myself to sleep.
I awake, suddenly, from a kick in my side. Alvaro’s wife, whose name I do not know yet, kicks me awake. I get up and kneel. She gives me a pail of water, a towel, soap, points. I know already. I pick up the newspapers and head into the snow covered and still dark backyard. I am shivering, nude, in the early morning cold. The stars are out. The storm has passed on, and in the clear night, the temperature has dropped to what feels like the single digits. Like an animal I do my stuff and dump it in the dumpster. I then wash, as fast as I can with the freezing water and return to the warm kitchen, where I kneel at my appointed place.
I am sent to the small toilet in the kitchen to fix my makeup, fix my hair. When I come back to the kitchen, the smell of beans, peppers and coffee fills the air. My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday. I am starving. I say nothing however and move to my corner to kneel there. The woman stops me, gives me a bowl and tells me to crack eggs in the bowl and whisk them. I am now her nude kitchen prep assistant. Silently I help her. I actually prefer this to kneeling in the corner. After I help her make breakfast, she points to my corner and I go kneel there.
All of the family gathers round the breakfast table. Alvaro, his wife, Mario and the little boy. I kneel nude on the corner, and am generally ignored by everyone. My stomach growls more loudly now. But no one seems to care; they do laugh at it. Soon they all leave for whatever projects they have for this Saturday morning. The wife has me help pick up the table. She watches me closely to make sure I do not pick up anything to eat. I do not dare. I am more afraid of her than of Alvaro. I wash the dishes; in cold water, of course. There is a dishwasher in the kitchen, but she gets a kick out of having a gringa wash her dishes, I guess.
After the kitchen is clean, there are still a couple of tacos left over. “You hungry, puta?” She asks.
“Yes ma’am” I answer, in a whisper.
She takes the plate with the two, still warm, left over tacos, puts it on the table, and says: “You are going to have to work for it, pendeja” I kneel in front of her, expecting a repeat of yesterday’s episode.
Indeed, she lifts her skirt to expose her smelly thatch but instead of having me come to eat her, she takes one of the tacos and deftly inserts it in her pussy. It goes all the way in. “If you want to eat” she opens her legs wide “eat”
I stick my face in her pussy, the appetizing smell of the breakfast taco mixes with the unappetizing smell of her taco. I try to reach the food with my tongue but cannot get it out. After a few attempts I realize what she wants. I have to bring her off first. I start sucking on her clitoris, flicking it with my tongue with greater and greater abandon. Her juices gush, on my face, and I’m sure on my breakfast too. Eventually she comes loudly, and squirts some more juice on me. She squeezes her pussy, or perhaps it is the orgasmic contractions, but the taco comes out. I am not allowed to take it in my hands, but have to bite it and eat it as it comes out of the malodorous cave. When I’m done, she inserts the second one. Again I have to bring her off to get my food. I am getting used to this; I am getting better at it. Soon I am rewarded by a second taco coming out of her taco. A breakfast taco, coming out of a fish taco.
After I’m done, she allows me to wash my face at the kitchen sink. What a privilege! For the rest of the morning I do her housework. She watches over me with one of her husbands belts in her hand, and uses it on me when I do not perform to her satisfaction. Nude I take the sheets off the beds, put them in the washer. (At least she does not make me wash them by hand) Then I am made to scrub the floors, clean the two bathrooms, which are filthy. The toilets in particular seem to have been cleaned last when Bush senior was president. I have to clean them, by hand, of course, and leave them spotless. Several cuts of the belt to my ass emphasize this. After the bed sheets are done, dried and ironed, I make the beds. I take another trip outside, with the newspapers; it is a lovely crisp, sunny, fall day. The sky is a pristine blue. I can appreciate that while I go, on the old newsprint, like the nicely trained bitch that I am.
I return back to the house. I am left to kneel at the corner. There is water in the bowl. I no longer feel the cold; the house is not kept as warm as ours, but after stepping outside, it feels warm by comparison. The wife approaches me. She has me stand in front of her. She pinches my nipples. They are still tender from yesterday’s caning. I squirm a little and grunt. She grabs me by the waist, with her left arm, and her right hand explores my pussy. Dry, it nevertheless responds to her manipulations, her pulling at my clit, and wetness appears. Despite myself I am getting excited. Unbidden I open my legs wider, giving her better access. She laughs, and has me bend over the kitchen table. Her hands explore my ass cheeks; she picks up a slotted steel spatula and starts spanking me with it. I yell out, but she just says: “Be quiet” She cuts into my ass like a fiend. I grunt with each stroke. My ass is quite tender from yesterday, and the spatula, which ordinarily shouldn’t be so bad, stings something fierce. She works up a sweat, so do I. Then she stops, and points to my corner. Whimpering I kneel in it.
Around eleven Mario comes home. Without a word, he approaches me, takes off his belt, which he uses to tie my hands behind my back; he then unzips his fly and has me suck him off. His dick grows in my mouth, as I, not unwillingly, pleasure him. I like Mario. He is nice. As I suck him off he pinches and twists my nipples. It hurts. He soon drops his load down my mouth. I clean him off with my tongue; he sticks it back in his pants, retrieves his belt, and gives me a few playful swats with it before leaving. They hurt badly on my already much bruised ass, but there is no ill intention in them. He is nice.
I help Mrs. Vega to make lunch. That is easy, just salad and hot dogs. Unfortunately she swats my ass frequently, with her spatula, for target practice.
At lunch, the small kid is not there, he must be at some friend’s. Without him around, Mario’s wife decides to have me serve them lunch. I do so willingly. As I serve them their salad, hot dogs, they pinch my nipples. Mario touches my pussy and flicks my clitoris as I serve him his soda. Mrs. Vega and Alvaro drink beer. After they are done eating, they decide is time to feed me. She tells them how she gave me breakfast; they like the idea. I am sure I will not like this.
Alvaro takes his belt off and wraps it round my neck, making a noose with the buckle. I definitely do not like this
He drops his pants and underwear, and sticks a wiener up his ass. I kneel in front of him, and am instructed not to swallow his spunk. I suck him off, and he soon comes in my mouth. To make sure I do not swallow, he pulls his belt tight, choking me. I can barely breathe, let alone swallow. He then tilts back, and offers me his ass. He pushes and out comes the wiener, coated. I am to let it into my mouth and suck on it, then push it back. He pushes it out, I take it into my mouth, and again push it back in with my lips and tongue. He has taken some pressure off the belt so I breathe better, though it is still painful. After he gets tired of the game, he now has me nibble on the wiener as it comes out, chew it and swallow it, until I’m done.
Mario also takes his pants off, and sticks the wiener in the same place his father did. He also half strangles me with the belt, but after I have a mouthful of his come in me, he has me bite small pieces of the wiener, coated in his shit, and drop them in a bowl, after mixing them with his come. Only after all the pieces are in the bowl he allows me to spit his spunk in the bowl. His mother has me bring her to orgasm, and also bite off pieces of her wiener, and put them in the bowl. After I’m done, she adds the rests of the salad to the bowl, and pees on it. My tears by now are flowing like a river. I balk at eating the whole stinking mess. Out comes the belt. My ass takes another round of punishment, but I cannot eat that. Mario brings out the cane. Alvaro brings a rubber gag. I keep shaking my head. “No, No, No” I refuse to open my mouth for the gag. Mario pulls on my hair, tilting my head back. Still I do not open my mouth. Suddenly a terrible crushing pain in my clit. Alvaro is crushing it with some pliers. I try to scream and, in comes the gag.
I am draped over the back of the chair, and they take turns on my ass and thighs. My screams are muffled by the gag. My tears are not. They run down my cheeks and pool on the seat. After they figure my ass has had enough they shove the bowl in my face. I shake my head. They sit me on the chair. Tie my hands behind my back. I know what is coming and start to nod vigorously. I try to say: “I will eat” but it is unintelligible through the gag; or perhaps they do understand but elect not to. They do not cane my breasts though. They bring the chair up to the table and rest my sore, tender and striped breasts on the table. Then they start caning them. After they have beaten them into red melons, with some of the welts bleeding, they remove the gag, and untie me. I say nothing. On all fours I crawl to the bowl, and like a good bitch eat my food. I cannot stop crying though.
On their instructions, I pick up my carpet, blanket and bowl. I follow Mario to the garage. The garage is colder than the kitchen, but the sun is warming it up nicely. He fills my bowl with water, puts in on a corner, ties my hands behind my back, lets me lie down on the carpet, covered by the blanket, and ties my collar to the wall. He then caresses my face and leaves me, alone.
I cry and cry. I have eaten their shit, their piss. I have been tortured, humiliated. I try to make sense of this, but can’t. I wish Simon was here. I wish he would come and pick me up. It would be all right then. I think: “It can’t get any worse than this” but then I realize, “Oh yes, it can” and I am scared.
Time passes slowly. Night falls. A space heater in the garage keeps it tolerable as the temperature outside falls below freezing. I drink water and sleep intermittently. I am so afraid. My breasts are swollen. My ass is on fire. What will they do to me tonight?
Mario comes, unties me and clips a leash to my collar. On all fours I follow him to the kitchen. Out come the newspapers, and out I go. I am allowed to stand up for this, while I walk out to the dumpster, to do my thing, while Mario enjoys the sight. He takes me back to the garage. Ties my neck to the wall, and with me on all fours, enters me from behind, not ungently. He fucks my pussy with abandon, I feel myself responding to him, but too soon, before I can really get into it, he comes. He gives me his dick to clean, which I do, as usual with my mouth, and he leaves me for the night.
I sleep. In my tortured dreams, Simon never comes, I am left here, or he comes but does not take me back with him. Or he takes me with him, but he tires of me, and he brings me back. On another dream, I am allowed to leave, to go to him. He stands at the end of the driveway, waiting for me. “Come to me” he orders. I run to him but cannot reach him. Or, as I run, dogs set upon me, tear me to pieces. I try to run again, but dogs stand between me and him. I cannot get to him without appeasing the dogs. I try to appease the dogs, but he vanishes.
It is morning. I am sore all over. My ass, thighs and breasts hurt terribly, from all the beatings. The rest of my body, from lying on the cold hard floor. Alvaro comes, fastens a leash to my collar, and takes me out to the backyard. Routine by now. I wonder if I will ever be able to go in a regular bathroom, or without someone watching. I walk into the kitchen. They have eaten already. There are two tacos left. His wife inserts one. I already know what to do. I go down on her, reap my reward and prepare to do it for the second one. After she inserts the second taco in her pussy, she offers me her ass. I know better than to balk. I lick her asshole, ream it with my tongue, and suck on it until she is satisfied. She then graciously lets me tongue her pussy and bring her to orgasm. I eat my second taco. They let me drink coffee out of my bowl. I am grateful to them. Alvaro caresses my head and face. I kiss his hand, lick at it. He says: “Good, good” I am broken now; happy to please them. I must please them. I realize that now. I want to please Simon. If Simon wants me to please this family, then I must please them. He wanted them to break me. He did not want to do it himself. I am broken. I will obey.
I am allowed into the bathroom to fix my face. I look at my front. My swollen breasts, criss crossed by welts, clotted blood where the skin burst under the cane’s assault. My thighs, well striped in the front. My ass, as red as my breasts, looks just as bad. The back of my thighs is not much better. I wonder how they will torture me today. I don’t have any areas left for them to torture without major damage.
When I return to the kitchen, I kneel in my corner. Alvaro takes me to the living room. He sits on his recliner and turns on the TV. He watches football. I kneel at his side; at arms reach, but not too close. On command I bring him beer, potato chips. After a while, I can restrain myself no longer.
“May I speak Mr. Vega?” He nods
“I am worried sir. My breasts, ass, thighs are all so damaged from all the whipping; I do not know what you can do to them tonight. I do not want to disappoint you.” His eyebrows rise. “I want to please you. I am afraid that you might not be able to hurt me as much as you wish. I do not want you to be unhappy with me”
He looks at me. “What would you have us do?”
“I thought you might whip my pussy” I can’t believe I said that. “It may not be able to take as much as my ass or tits, but maybe you can use that. If you damage it too much, you can always fuck me in the ass, and there is always my mouth” Something inside my brain was cringing. The last remains of self preservation were falling off my mind, like the leaves on the trees outside. I am an accomplice in my own violation. I cannot believe that my biggest concern is that my tormentors might not be able to torment me enough.
“We will do that. Tonight Mario and I will tie you up to the coffee table, your legs wide open, tied back, so your pussy is widely exposed. You will ask us to whip your pussy, with the belt. When it is swollen shut, you will ask us to use the cane, until it bleeds. When it is torn, bleeding, you can then ask us to use the belt buckle on it. Then and only then will you have reached your objective. Then and only then will you have learned what you came here to learn.” He stands up
“I gotta take a leak”
“You do not need to go sir, I am here” I approach him, open his fly and take his flaccid, but still large penis into my mouth. I wait until he releases his water. Simon had stopped to let me swallow, Alvaro doesn’t. At home however we have a bota that we use to take wine in picnics, I learned to swallow with my mouth open while using it. I use the same technique and swallow all his piss. It tastes acrid. When he is done, he shakes it dry against the side of my mouth and gives me the end of his beer to wash down the taste.
Mario joins us shortly afterwards. We watch football all evening. I bring them beer and snacks, and drink their piss as needed. As the evening wears on I am getting more and more anxious about the upcoming ordeal. Alvaro explains the plan to his son, who asks to fuck me before they ruin my pussy. Mario wants to take me to his room, but Alvaro tells him to do me right there, on the living room.
I suck him until he is fully hard. I take my time doing it. I like Mario, but it doesn’t matter now. I will do just as good a job on Alvaro if it was his dick in my mouth. Mario enjoys it, until he decides it is time. He has me lie flat on my back, and enters me roughly. I am wet though and receive him eagerly. He humps and I grind and soon find myself screaming my release, just in time, since he grunts, gasps and releases his own load deep in me. Alvaro turns me over, and fucks my ass. He does put a dollop of lubricant on his penis, for his own comfort, before he does me. Although the pain is intense, it is nothing like what I have endured until now, or what will happen to me soon. I grunt with his thrusts, but endure stoically.
I request to go out. Alvaro tells me to go to the kitchen and ask Guadalupe (That’s his wife) to take me out. I do so, and as I am squatting over my newspaper, she asks me:
“So, do you now what they will do with you tonight, putita?” The use of the diminutive does not escape me. With it, whore becomes almost a term of endearment. As I finish doing my thing, I explain it to her. “I’ll come and watch. You can suck my pussy while yours is whipped to shreds” I said: “Yes ma’am, I would like that very much” and meant it.
I return to the living room. I fully expect to be thrown back on the coffee table and the torture to start, but both men are relaxed, watching the games. They do not seem in any hurry to start. Me, there is a ball of icy lead in my stomach. By 8 I cannot take it anymore. “Sir” I ask Alvaro “When do you want to start?” “Whenever you want” he answers. I see. I am going to have to ask for everything. I’ll have to ask them to whip my pussy, then shred it with the cane, and then to smash it with the belt buckle. They will not volunteer anything, except to fuck my mouth or ass, as they feel the need.
I take a deep breath. “I’d like to get started, please” My voice trembles. My legs shake. “Mrs. Vega said she’d like to be here too. If it is OK with you”
“Yes” Alvaro says “Fetch her.” I do so.
The coffee table is in the middle of the room now. The TV is
off. They place two pillows; one on each end. They ask me, politely, to lie
down on the table. I do so. Mrs. Vega asks me to get up and places a white
towel under my ass before I sit down again. “For the blood” she says. I give
her a wan smile “I understand” I lie back on the table. The pillow on the
opposite side is under my neck, so my head hangs off the side. I will be able
to deep throat any one who wants it. I nod my approval. I ask for a gag. It is
denied. “You need to be able to ask for the next torture. To
ask for more. You cannot have a gag” I lie down again. “Will you tie me
to the table now? Please” Two large belts, one low on my belly and another one
just above my breasts strap me tightly to the table. I cannot move.
Again I nod approval. My arms are tied to the legs of the table. My forearms rest on the floor. “Good” I say. “Will you please tie my legs down now?” I ask. My thighs are now flexed over my belly, and tied down with leather thongs, just above the knees to the table. I can still move them from side to side. My ankles are fixed to the thighs with additional thongs. “Please tie them open” I say. A long rope runs from one knee, under the table, to the other knee. My legs are now flexed on my belly, immobilized and wide open. My pussy and asshole are now fully exposed. Fear has covered my body with a patina of sweat. Mario comes to my side and kisses my lips tenderly. I respond to him. Alvaro follow suit. I also kiss him back. Guadalupe caresses my face before kissing me. “You are a brave putita” she says. She brings a chair and sets it by my face. “I shall sit here with you” “Gracias” I say.
Alvaro removes his belt. Fearfully I see the large buckle. He grabs it by the buckle and gives it a tentative swat against the floor. He looks at me, waiting for instructions.
“Start whipping my pussy, hard” I can barely speak.
Aiiieeee! My loud scream rips through the stillness of the room. Once, twice. “Stop!” I say. He does. “I can’t bear it like this. Please give me something to bite on” Guadalupe gets me a piece of rubber hose. She sticks it on my mouth, sideways. I shall bite on it, but can spit it out when needed. I nod and say “oninue” Alvaro understands and resumes. Thwack! And Thwack again. I can barely writhe with each stroke. I scream through my gag, through my clenched teeth. They trade places. Mario hits my pussy now, ferociously. I keep screaming as much as my gag lets me. After a year of this, a pause. I look up and see my pussy. Alvaro is holding up a mirror. My God! It looks as large as a softball. Guadalupe removes my gag. “Is it closed?” I ask. Alvaro tries to stick his dick in me. I scream as he tries, and succeeds. ‘No, it is still open” He says as he starts thrusting. Tears fall from my eyes as he enjoys my sex. Guadalupe caresses my face. Mario kneels on the other side and caresses my breasts. Alvaro grunts as he spends himself in me. He gets up. “Please continue with the belt” I say “It shouldn’t take too long now” Guadalupe replaces the gag. The torture resumes. I thrash my head wildly from side to side. It is the only movement left me. After anther year of this, the gag comes off. I again see my pussy in the mirror. An angry red cantaloupe seems to grow from my pubis. I catch my breath. I see Guadalupe looking at me. “The cane” I say “Until it bleeds, do not stop. Do not stop until it bleeds freely” The gag is now insufficient to help me. The pain is so intense I spit it out. I scream, beg for mercy, and cry. My hands grasp at the carpet, clutch at the air. Nothing helps. Mario passes the cane to his father, who, merciless, continues the abuse on my tender pussy. Finally they stop. It takes me a few minutes to stop screaming and thrashing. The pain is such that I do not realize it has stopped. When I do, I look up into the mirror. My pussy is torn in a score of places. Blood does flow freely into the towel. It has splashed my inner thighs. My pubes. I gasp for breath. Alvaro says: “We will stop now Candy” For the first time he has used my name. “No” I say, still gasping for breath. “You must finish. You must. Fuck my ass. Fuck my mouth, then when you are done” a pause “Use the belt buckle. At least 4 times. Two apiece” “As you wish”
“Alvaro fucks my ass first. The pain from my ass mingles with the horror of my shattered crotch. His come mingles with my blood and shit in my ass. He comes out and moves, erect again to my head. I see the shit, semen and blood covering his dick. I open my mouth, and as he enters me, feel a tongue in my ass. Guadalupe is drinking her husbands come and my blood out of my ass. As Alvaro’s dick enters deep into my throat, I feel fulfilled. He is so excited he comes again quite fast. He comes out. I see Guadalupe, her mouth stained with his come and my blood, standing by my side. She smiles. Mario enters my ass next. It doesn’t take him long either. His mother kneels behind me and drinks his come and my blood again. I can see this in the mirror Alvaro holds up. Then Mario comes to my mouth and I deep throat him too. He comes down my throat. It is time.
I do not ask for the gag this time. “Do it, do it hard” I say.
The buckle striking my pussy sounds like a melon bursting. I do not feel it at first, and then the pain explodes in me, like a firecracker on the fourth of July. Mario went first, then they traded places, then again. As I asked. Two strokes each. After the last one, I pass out.
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