SLUTTY WHORE -- WILLINGLY TAKEN 04 - FINAL PART
by GWMSUB4DOMGAM
This story is a fantasy, yet it is based on things I've done in the past.
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Did I ask for this?
Do I want this?
Why didn't I fight against this?
What will happen next?
At least I was starting to warm up a little. The whip marks still stung as feeling returned to my skin. As I felt truly sorry for myself, and contemplated why I ended up here, exhaustion and my drunkenness returned, and I actually fell asleep, stark naked, on my knees, hunched uncomfortably inside a very small steel cage, with my hands bound behind my back, and with both cum and piss inside me.
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I groggily woke a couple of times, my head pounding, my skin burning from the belt welts which seemed to be all over my flesh, my mouth filled with a horrible taste, and my muscles in my legs cramping while my back muscles were straining from the position I was forced into within this tiny cage.
I listened intently for any sound of my rapists returning, but I could only hear faint sounds of a clock ticking somewhere inside the building. I suddenly felt my abdomen cramping and realized I desperately needed to take a piss. I had the piss of four guys inside me, and it seemed desperate to escape me now. I contemplated for a second trying to hold it for fear of my punishment if I pissed myself inside this cage, but the pressure was way too much for me to resist. A strong stream of piss started blasting out of me with the pressure of a fire hose. I heard it splashing against the metal of the floor of the cage, and felt it splashing on my legs and chest. I breathed a sigh of relief as my bladder gratefully emptied, but as it did I also began to shit myself without any control over my sphincter after the repeated huge cocks forced into it within the last few hours. I heard myself fart and felt liquid running down the back of my legs.
Fuck. I was as low as anyone could ever be. I was lower than the lowest whore ever had been. I am stark naked, forced into a tiny dog cage, pissing and shitting myself like an animal in that cage, abandoned in a strange place miles from anywhere. I had been tortured stark naked in the freezing snow for, for, I didn't know at all how long I had been tied to the tree, hung, then fucked over that picnic table. I took their cum, piss, and spit up my ass and in my stomach. The called me a whore, a bitch, a fucking cunt, a fairy, and they had dragged me stark naked from Mikes flat after raping me there. Yet, I had chosen to get into the fucking van, instead of taking my chances getting home naked instead.
I dozed off asleep again, and when I awoke my head was a little clearer while my legs and back ached even more from the cramped position. I struggled unsuccessfully to adjust my position and relieve the pain, as there just was no space to move. My thoughts returned to last night, or more correctly early this morning. Why didn't I fight them off when they were raping me? I wasn't sure what was happening at first, but I had a good idea what was happening when John's cock rammed down my throat and then slammed the back of my head into the ground, so why the fuck didn't I fight them? Why didn't I put up any resistance at all?
There were four of them. No, there were FIVE of them. Colin was there the whole time, watching me being raped on the floor by his drug dealer an three others. I was naked, and I was hung over, and they were holding my wrists and arms, but I knew how difficult it is to control a determined struggling person, yet, I didn't fight against them holding me at all. Instead, I...... Instead I, I. It slowly dawned on me but I immediately dismissed it from my thoughts, It returned though more forcefully a moment later. I WANTED to be in that position, being raped like that. I didn't ask for it. I didn't expect it. Yet, I had fantasized about it happening many times before, and when I was being face and butt fucked at the same time, I wanted that. I wanted them to fuck me harder, rougher, more aggressively.
FUCK....what the hell is wrong with me?
Who, in their right mind would WANT this?
Am I sick in the head? Is this a mental sickness that no-one spotted when I lied to get into the British Army by telling them I wasn't gay?
I certainly didn't want, expect, or enjoy being dragged naked through the fucking freezing snow to be lynched on a tree, my legs cramping and my toes freezing as they tried to keep me on that log which allowed me to breath. A I shook uncontrollably from the cold, as the snow continued to fall in a blizzard around me, as my breath crated clouds of steam in the air, as I cried certain that I was about to die in that field. I didn't want THAT! Did I?
My cock was rock hard and throbbing as I contemplated what a sick fucking animal I really AM. Remembering the freezing cold snow on my skin, the aggressiveness and total domination they exerted over me without any doubts or uncertainty. Feeling those belts cut into my flesh, their cocks forcing their way down my throat and slamming deep into my guts. The utter humiliation of drinking and fucking swallowing their disgusting, vile, acrid piss while the fucking Mohwak guy recorded the whole thing.
Fuck, the video tape. They fucking had me on video tape doing the most disgusting, depraved, humiliating things imaginable. What were they going to do with that tape? I began shaking involuntarily, not with cold, but with a sudden more tangible realization of how my life as I knew it was over if they showed that tape to anyone. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. How did I let myself get into this situation? Why did I let myself do this? Why did I do this? Why did I WANT this?
The sound of the large barn doors to the building opening behind me pulled me instantly out of my contemplation, and returned me to the precariousness of my current situation. The lights suddenly came up, and I felt all the more exposed in the sudden brightness after the dark and my foggy hangover.
I heard voices and movement behind me, soft conversation being conducted, but I seemed to be entirely ignored as this was happening. I felt like a lamb, waiting to be slaughtered. Unsure when it would come, unsure how it would come, but certain that at some point, it would come.
It was quite a while before I saw feet and legs walk to the front of the cage, and I was able to look up to see Colin staring down at me, shaking his head from side to side with a sneering crooked smile on his face.
"Please," I pleaded weakly. "Please, let me go. I don't want this." I said.
"Who cares what you want," Colin said dismissively, adding "you stupid queer cunt," for added humiliation.
He kicked the bars of the cage as he stood to leave and I felt the vibrations rattle through my whole body. I felt emotion welling up inside me and struggled to hold back the tears, taking quick short breaths instead. My "God", just as Mike had warned me, turned out to actually be a Devil who had no interest in helping me escape from this situation.
"What about Mike?" I asked, in desperation hoping my friendship with Mike may give Colin second thoughts.
Colin returned, knelt down in front of me, looked straight into my eyes, and spat in my face though the bars.
"Mark got up at 2 PM with a huge hangover and thinks you went home last night."
"He doesn't care about you that much either."
"In a month or two, he'll forget all about you."
I heard the padlocks to the cage being opened as Colin stood up and walked away from the cage laughing. Unseen hands grabbed my ankles and in one aggressive tug, pulled me out of the cage backwards. I fell on my chest as my legs were pulled out of the cage, and the wind was knocked out of me instantly as my hands remained bound being my back. I coughed and tried to catch a breath as I was pulled to my feet by two hands under my arms. My legs were pretty numb from being cramped inside the cage for so long and I really couldn't support my own weight. The two who picked me up literally dragged me through the building to the door, leading out into the snow laden driveway. I began to shake again, anticipating the cold wind and snow on my naked flesh again.
As I was dragged toward the door we passed Colin and John who were standing, casually chatting. Both glanced at me and smiled as I was dragged past them, my legs still not really working yet. I dropped my head, resigned to whatever was coming next and felt totally defeated. Tears began running down my cheeks.
Approaching the large open door, I felt the cold wind impinging on the warmth of the building, hitting the naked flesh of my skin like a bucket of ice water thrown over me. Inexorably, they dragged me through the door and out into snow covered driveway once again, my feet reacting to the cold of the snow and the hardness of the rocks as my legs slowly started to work. Turning right out of the doorway, they forced me to half-walk and be half-dragged to the side of the building where there were some metal posts that stuck out of the building over the driveway. They forced me to walk half-way down the side of the building, still holding my shoulders as they did, before stopping me and cutting and removing the duct tape from my wrists.
My arms swung to my sides on being released, but my muscles screamed in pain as the began to move freely again. I shivered, looked down at my red and freezing feet shivering in the deep snow that came up to six inches above my ankles. The crunching of snow to the left of me made me turn, and I saw the White Mohawk guy once again, with the familiar camera pointed at me. I moved my hands to cover my exposed cock which had shriveled to half its normal size in a vain attempt to hide my nakedness, but quickly gave up this vanity to pull my arms up around my chest to try to hug myself in the equally vain hope of shielding myself from the bitter wind that was like knives stabbing my skin.
I watched the camera intently as it walked around me to the front. I started to crouch down to try to limit my exposure, only to be quickly slapped hard on the ass by one of the guys behind me.
"UP," they commanded, and I reluctantly, slowly, complied. Exposing more of my naked, unprotected flesh to the bitter cold wind once more.
The Mohawk guy smiled behind the camera at my feeble attempt and instant punishment when I was suddenly hit with a powerful torrent of bitterly cold water on my back. I bolted upright, and stumbled forward a few steps before falling to my knees in the freezing snow.
"AAAAahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, FUUUUUUCK......" I screamed haltingly as my voice stuttered through my shivering.
"You fucking stink, you filthy cunt," a voice shouted behind me. "You smell of piss, and shit, and cum you WHORE."
The water jet played over my back, up over my head, then quickly dropped down my ass cheeks and shot between my legs, catching my balls before I realized what was happening. Despite the cold, a searing pain shot through my balls and my abdomen, and I collapsed into the deep and slowly freezing snow in a fetal position, now grabbing my balls in agony.
I heard laughing as I tried to recover from the assault on my balls, and realized a dozen or more people were approaching from the front of the house, where a number of vehicles were now parked stretching all the way down the driveway. They were all dressed warmly against the cold as they approached, watching me, laughing, chatting, taking pictures with cameras, stopping only a few feet from my tortured naked body.
"On your fucking FEET, you bitch," the Black guy from the night before screamed at me as he whipped my ass hard with a belt, while the light-skinned guy from last night continued to play the pressure hose all over my naked flesh.
I screamed and jumped at the belt strike and rolled onto my stomach, but before I could even contemplate getting up the belt struck me again across the back of my thighs this time. I screamed again and jumped. As the crowd of onlookers cheered louder and clapped, the belt found me five or six more times before I finally scrambled up to me feet, still crouching against the equally painful assault of the bitter wind and the freezing water jet.
As suddenly as the water stream started it suddenly shut off. I stood, stark naked, barefoot in the deep snow, my skin soaking wet and bright red with the cold, shaking uncontrollably, water running from my hair down my face and into my eyes, and the freezing wind blew over me. My breath coming out in large white puffs of fog.
My wrists were grabbed and pulled behind my back and I felt cold metal cuffs being snapped on. A hand grabbing my hair, pulled my head up and back as a thick and heavy steel collar was placed around my neck, clasped into place and a padlock affixed with a heavy steel leash attached to one of the many D rings around the collar. Heavy and thick steel ankle cuffs with a heavy steel chain were affixed to my ankles allowing me only about a twelve-inch distance between each ankle.
John appeared before me, wearing a thick leather jacket and scarf against the bitter cold, while I stood stark naked, barefoot, and shivering in freezing steel fetters.
"You're going to fetch a nice price, bitch," he said to me as he took the leash and tugged it, pulling me behind him toward the waiting crowd of strangers.
Fetch a nice prince. What the fuck....
I hit me like another flow of freezing water. This was an auction! I was being offered up for sale to these onlookers. Naked, pitiful, tortured, fucked, broken, submissive.
I looked down at my freezing feet, with the cold steel chain dragging through the snow as I walked, realizing a totally new degradation and humiliation I had never imagined before. I should have run. I could have run when they brought me out here. I should have run. But. But, I'm naked and barefoot, and miles from anywhere. If I did run, would I make it anywhere before I died of exposure. I was freezing and my feet were numb. I probably wouldn't make it to the end of the driveway to be honest.
My contemplation of my cowardice, and acceptance of my utter humiliation was interrupted when John tugged me forward in front of him, directly in front of the first of the watching crowd. I looked into the face of a dark-skinned old man wearing a white turban on his head, with a grey moustache and long grey beard. He removed his soft leather gloves in front of my face and pushed them into the pocket of this thick woolen overcoat. As his hands reached for my face, I instinctively turned away, only to feel a incredible jolt of electricity on my right ass cheek. I screamed and bucked away, but the leash was held firm behind me and I had nowhere to go.
As tears streamed down my face from the cattle prod, John told me loudly "Stand still and let the clients inspect you, or get another taste of sparky."
The client reached for my face again and I closed my eyes as he pried my mouth open. His fingers pushed back my lips, check my upper and lower teeth. He then pushed two fingers deep inside my mouth and down my throat, causing me to gag a little. He ran his hands down my chest, squeezing my pecs and twisting and tugging my nipples painfully. His hands ran down my abdomen pushing a finger into my belly button and pressing deeply. Then on down to my public hair, tugging it painfully before grabbing my cock and roughly pulling my foreskin all the way back. Running his fingernail painfully over glans and across my piss slit a couple of times. I tried to pull away for a brief instant, but remembering the cattle prod, I forced myself to accept the assault as I stepped from one foot to the other to try to relieve the stinging pain of cold in my bare feet. He tugged my balls down and twisted the sack slightly, then releasing them he reached under and searched for my hole. Finding it, he pushed two fingers deep into me, and fucked them in and out six or seven times, before removing them and pushing his fingers into my mouth once again.
"Suck them clean, bitch," he said with a distinct accent. I complied and stared sucking his fingers.
John then pulled me over a foot or two, to the next "client." I opened my eyes as I shuffled through the snow, to face the next abuser. A White guy with shoulder length black hair, Blue eyes, and a look on his face that scared the fuck out of me. I had seen that look in people I met in the Army. People who could punish, torture, kill, without any thought or remorse. He looked me up, and down, and up to my eyes again, then smiled. He followed the same examination process as the first "client" but he was much more rough. He slapped my face hard, after making me gag repeatedly as his fingers forced their way down the back of my throat. He dug his nails into my nipples causing me to scream out as he pulled and twisted them. He pulled my suddenly stiffening cock aggressively towards him, causing me to thrust my hips toward him, only to then knee me directly in the balls with equal viciousness. I screamed again and twisted trying to get away from the assault on my balls, only to have him grab my hips and force four fingers deep into my hole, all the way up to the middle of his hand, or at least that is what it felt like. Pumping his fingers in and out of my hole as I struggled on my tip toes in the snow to relieve the pain.
Tears were streaming down my face as John tugged me on to the next "client." A different man, different warm clothing, a similar examination of every part of my naked, freezing flesh. My one consolation was the hands on my flesh were helping to prevent ice forming on my flesh after my "bath" but each part of my body became more and more painful as all the "clients" examined me thoroughly.
I lost track of time and pain as strange hands constantly had their way with every part of my body, I succumbed willingly to this, so I did not have to feel the searing pain of the cattle prod. My hands and feet were numb from the cold when finally I had been examined by all of the clients and John pulled me back away from them. I had tried to keep my eyes closed as I was examined, but most would tug my hair or slap me on the face telling me to open my eyes. They wanted to see ME. I didn't want them to see me, and I didn't want to see what THEY saw me as. I would open my eyes, but I'd try to look up to the grey sky above me. If I looked down, I would see my cold, naked flesh and their hands roving all over it without any reluctance or resistance. I would see my hard cock, sticking out and engorged, despite my humiliation and the intense cold. If I looked away, I could try to persuade myself this really wasn't happening.
Dragging me away to a small platform that had been bought from somewhere, John walked up the four steps and dragged me up onto the platform behind him. I was turned to face assembled "clients." Having been examined intimately by all of them, and now standing on an elevated platform before them, stark naked, in steel cuffs and chains, shivering in the freezing wind that continued to blow, and my cock still rock hard for some reason, I still looked down in embarrassment, at the snow in the middle ground between the platform and the "clients." I still could not face the reality of what I had become, where I was, who far I had fallen, and what I suspected was happening right now.
"Gentlemen," John addressed the crowd whose murmuring discussions slowly silenced. "You have seen the tape. You know how much fun this cunt can offer. You've seen for yourself it's a perfect, healthy specimen."
I glanced up at the "Gentlemen" and noticed Colin standing about fifteen feet behind them. He was sipping some hot drink from a mug, as many of the clients were also. He stared directly at me, with no emotion, no sign of any empathy or remorse. I pleaded with my eyes, and his steely unemotional glare simply accentuated my plight and fall. As he, and the clients. stood comfortably dressed and sipping warm drinks and contemplating how much they were willing to pay to own my pathetic being, I shivered and hunched in absolute contrast. Naked, freezing, pathetic, powerless, soon to be owned by one of these men.
I stood shivering on the platform, staring at the snow below, crying at my utter debasement and contemplating my fate. I was abandoned at five by my single parent Mother, and never saw her again. I grew up in an orphanage, considered unadoptable as most people wanted to adopt a baby, not a young boy who may already be "damaged goods." I left the orphanage at 17 for the army, and as an adult at that time, the orphanage divested their responsibility of me. On leaving the army I returned to the only place I really knew, Glasgow, and found a small flat and a dead-end job in a grocery store that I hated. No-one would miss me. Many workers at the grocery store just never turned up again when they moved on so he would not care when I didn't return. My landlady at the flat would probably just clear out my things and re-rent it to someone else. Other than Mike, no-one would give me a second thought.
I heard John calling out numbers as the crowd bid to own me. I shut most of it all out as I was lost in my own thoughts and contemplation. I really didn't belong anywhere. No-one cared about me or loved me. No-one sought me. I had a few meaningless relationships with guys, but none of them went beyond a night or two of sex. Did I let Colin and John rape and abuse me because, they wanted me? For the first time in my life, someone really wanted me?
"SOLD," I heard John shout loudly, jolting me out of my contemplation.
I looked up to see Colin approach one of the crowd. He was immaculately dressed in a Camel colored overcoat and silk scarf wrapped around his neck, and black leather gloves. A brief exchange by phone with Colin, and Colin nodded to John.
A tug of my leash, and John dragged me down the stairs, my naked feet hitting the freezing snow once again, and I was walked over to my new owner, as the other guests began to walk back to their vehicles. The leash was handed to my new owner, who smiled broadly as he took it, his eyes roving up and down my freezing, shivering, naked body, still marked from the belt whipping of early this morning, and with ice forming in my hair from my "shower."
"With me, boy," my new owner commanded, as he turned and started to walk towards his own vehicle.
For a moment I resisted, pulling my neck back in protest. John handed my owner the cattle prod. My new owner took it, held it up to my face as a clear threat, and repeated "With me, boy."
He turned and started walking slowly. Dropping my head to see my naked cold feet, ankles clad in steel and chain, I cried as I moved one foot in front of the other, following the leash, into my new existence.
(AUTHORS NOTE: I will end this particular story here, to let you, the reader, contemplate and decide my fate from this point on. If you were my new owner, what would my new existence be under your control? Would you keep me for life or sell me when bored with me? Please email me with YOUR ideas for the remainder of my life as an owned property slave.)
--End
I would love feedback on this story, (or to hear from you if you are a dominant, aggressive, demanding Master who likes to keep his slaves naked and collared lol ) at ALL TIMES. GWMSUB4DOMGAM@yahoo.com.
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