Krissy

by S. J. Lewis

  “Do you understand now?” he asked, his voice mild. His hand gently caressed her poor, abused rear, making her twitch and whine, because now even that soft touch hurt her. “You cannot bargain with me. You have nothing to bargain with, not your lovely body, because it is already mine, and not even your obedience, because I will have that sooner or later in any case, when you beg me to accept it as a gift.” He fell silent for a little while as he continued caressing her. The way he did it reminded Krissy of someone stroking a pet.

  “You’re a lovely young woman,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Now, tell me. How old are you? Be truthful, now.”

  “Twenty-three, sir,” she replied. Truthfully. She was certain that if she lied, somehow he would just know.

  “And is this your natural hair color?”

  Krissy felt him gripping her hair, apparently checking her roots. “Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

  “So, you really are a blonde,” he said. “That’s quite good. So many young women dye their hair these days.” He let go of her hair and began stroking her ribs. “Are you proud of your lovely tits?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Krissy almost choked on the answer.

  “As well you should be,” he chuckled. His hand slid under her to squeeze her breast. “And are you proud of your sweet, tight, round ass?”

  “Yes, sir.” This time she couldn’t help sobbing.

  “You should be,” he said. His hand moved down along the backs of her thighs, gently but firmly squeezing all the way, and then her calves came in for the same slow, careful, demeaning examination.

  “You should be proud of these lovely legs of yours as well,” he observed. “Tits are something that you’re born with or not, but to keep your ass and legs in such wonderful shape must take a lot of maintenance. How do you do it?”

  “I…” Krissy gulped back a sob and began again. “I walk a lot, sir, and there are some exercises that I do.”

  “I suppose that you don’t own a car, do you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “No. You lived in the city, and public transportation was available, so a car was just an unnecessary expense. I suppose that you lived quite simply?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So you were very frugal and saved your money. I don’t imagine you put it all in a bank, did you?”

  She did not want to answer that question, but she was too fearful not to.

  “No, sir.”

  “I’ll send someone to search your apartment, of course, but I’m sure that your hard-earned hoard isn’t there, is it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Someday I will ask you, and you will tell me where it is, but not today. There’s no hurry. It would be nice to have, but I don’t need it at the moment, and you no longer need it at all. I suppose your shoulders and back are still causing you some discomfort, aren’t they?”

  Krissy groaned. “Yes, sir, very much.” She desperately wanted to ask, beg, plead for relief, but believed that if she did he would only leave her as she was for longer than he’d originally intended, however long that was.

  “I suppose that you’re wondering where I’m taking you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Krissy responded.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, patting her ass gently, but not gently enough to keep her from twitching and whimpering.

  “We’re going to do something to pass the time until we arrive at our destination,” he said.

  “Sir?” Krissy didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “Yes. Now get down on your knees on the floor.” He helped her move. If he hadn’t, she knew she would have landed on her face. The duct tape bindings were so constricting that she couldn’t feel her hands at all now, and her toes were tingling ominously. Her helplessness didn’t seem to impress him at all. Once he had her on her knees, he half-turned on his seat so that they were facing each other.

  “I want you to suck on something,” he said. If he hadn’t been holding her by her aching shoulders, Krissy would have tried to pull away from him out of reflex. All she could do was look down and away from him, dreading what she knew would come next. He took one hand off of her, but instead of using it to unzip his pants, he made a fist with his thumb sticking up.

  “Here,” he said, brushing his thumb against her lips. “I imagine you’re out of practice, so we’ll start you out with something manageable. Suck on my thumb, and do it slowly, as if you were making love to it.”

  “Sir?” Krissy looked up at him, unable to believe what he was saying. He moved so quickly that she never saw the slap coming. It snapped her head around, made her ears ring and blurred her vision for a moment. Once she recovered her wits, she looked up at him again, wide-eyed and fearful.

  “Here,” he smiled at her warmly, pressing his thumb against her lips. “Suck on it, lick it, kiss it.” His smile faded and his expression turned grim. “Do a good job. Make me believe that you love it.”

  Krissy’s mouth worked, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t earn her another slap. She looked away from him and at his thumb. Then she kissed it, lightly and hesitantly.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  Krissy kissed his thumb again, then licked it. Could this be all he really wanted, at least for the moment? She licked his thumb a couple of more times, working up the nerve to take it into her mouth. He seemed to grow impatient with her, and finally thrust it between her lips, deep into her mouth. She felt the grip of his other hand tighten on her shoulder, and began sucking, slowly at first. She couldn’t look up at him, and she wouldn’t have even if she could. He was probably enjoying this, watching her debase herself. She whimpered again at the thought, but kept sucking.

  She hadn’t given a man head for years, and while there were delightful things to suck on a woman’s body, none were anywhere near as large as a cock, or even as large as his thumb. And even if sucking cock was like riding a bicycle, she had no experience at all with sucking a man’s thumb. He let her fumble her way along for a while, not saying anything or giving her any indications at all as to how much he liked what she was doing, what he was making her do. And then he pulled his thumb out of her mouth and made her look up at him.

  “You are sadly out of practice,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “We will have to fix that.” He wiped his thumb off across Krissy’s face, put his hand on her shoulder and brought his other hand, the one that had been holding her, up into her face, presenting her with his other thumb.

  “Now this one,” he said. “And try to do a better job. You’re not sucking anywhere nearly hard enough, and you aren’t using that little pink tongue of yours at all. Get to work.”

  Krissy took his other thumb into her mouth without hesitation this time. There had been a look in his eyes when he spoke to her that had chilled her. She sucked, harder, and tried to remember to use her tongue as he had told her to. But her limited experience at giving head had never included tongue play, and she kept forgetting from time to time.

  “Make some noise while you’re doing it,” he said. His voice held a note of irritation that spurred Krissy to greater efforts. Unsure what kind of noises he wanted to hear, she tried tiny grunts, completely faked moans, and even a couple of little slurps. It went on, and on until the car slowed and turned. It never picked up speed again, and it felt as if they weren’t on a paved road any more.

  “That’s enough,” he said, withdrawing his thumb. “Get back down on the floor. We’re almost there.” He shoved her down roughly and put his foot on her neck again. As humiliating as all that thumb sucking had been, Krissy dreaded whatever was coming next.

  The car bumped and rocked along a roadway that grew more and more rough and uneven as they went along. And then it came to a stop. When the engine cut off, it was suddenly very silent.

  “Here we are,” he said. He sounded obscenely cheerful about it. Krissy felt him take his foot off of her, heard the door open, felt him get out. Cool night air washed in, chill
ing her.

  “’S’up?” She heard a gravelly male voice inquire.

  “I have some work for you,” she heard her captor reply. “There on the floor. Get her out, would you?” Hard, rough hands seized her and dragged her out, dumping her on the ground hard enough to make her cry out. She rolled onto her side to look up. There were three strange men standing there, besides her captor, big, burly, beer-bellied men with unkempt beards, all wearing heavy boots, dirty jeans, and equally dirty shirts under sleeveless leather jackets.

  “Hey, nice tits!” One of them said. He smiled at Krissy. He didn’t have all of his teeth.

  “I’d like to leave her here for a little while and have you boys break her in,” Krissy’s captor said.

  “Break her in?” one of them asked.

  “Yes,” Krissy’s captor answered. “Break her in, not break her. Enjoy yourselves, but be a bit more careful than you were last time.”

  “Hey, no prob,” the one missing some teeth chuckled as he squatted down alongside Krissy. His hands were not only hard and rough but grimy and grease-stained as he reached out to squeeze Krissy’s breasts. “Cool!” he snickered as Krissy tried to squirm away. “These are fuckin’ real!” He put his face close to Krissy’s, close enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath. “Ever had a dude jack off between those big, juicy tits, girly?” he asked.

  “She likes girls,” Krissy heard her captor say as she tried unsuccessfully to worm away from her latest tormentor.

  “Hell, so do we,” one of the others laughed. “Maybe we’ll call some of our bitches over to help out.”

  “Do as you please with her, but don’t break anything,” Krissy’s captor warned. “And no, ‘do as you please’ does not mean fuck her ass this time. I’ll be back for her in a couple of days, and I expect her to still be able to walk and talk.”

  “She might be walkin’ a little bowlegged.”

  “Just soften her up some, get her used to being fucked again. Oh, and give her a little experience at sucking cock. She’s no good at it at all.”

  Chapter Eight

  The three bearded men just stood around her, staring down at her hungrily, one of them shining a handheld spotlight on her as the car drove off. Soon the sound of its engine had faded away. Now all Krissy could hear were the sounds of crickets and frogs. She could see that she’d been left somewhere out in the country. Not too far away was what looked like an old, two-story farmhouse. The only other things she could see were the surrounding trees…and those three men. They looked like bikers, they were dressed like bikers, and they were close enough to her for her to know that they smelled like bikers. One of them nudged her with his big, dirty boot.

  “What’s yer name, honey?” the one with the spotlight asked.

  “Krissy,” she replied. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  They all laughed at that. The cold knot of fear in Krissy’s belly tightened painfully. It was just getting worse and worse, and she didn’t see any way out of it at all.

  “Get ‘er up,” the one with the spotlight told the other two. They took hold of her arms and hauled her to her feet. That sent sparks of pain shooting through her shoulders and back, so fierce that she screamed.

  “Hands’re cold, Spud,” one of the others said.

  “Yeah. Get that tape off ‘er. It’s just in the way now.” ‘Spud’ appeared to be not only the one holding the spotlight, but the boss here as well. Krissy groaned as the other two first cut through the tape binding her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles and then peeled the tape away. Feeling returned to her limbs, bringing with it fresh, sharp pains. She groaned weakly, grateful for that small mercy, even if they’d done it just so it would be easier to fuck her. She was just able to stand on her own feet, but unable to move her arms. She didn’t think she could walk without help. Spud reached out to play with her breasts briefly and she didn’t even have the energy to care. She kept flexing her fingers, trying to work out that pins-and-needles feeling.

  “She looks kinda wore out,” Spud observed after a moment.

  “Still looks good to me.” Krissy felt a hand clench her ass. It hurt, but not enough for her to care about that either.

  “Oh, hell, yeah, she looks real good, but I ain’t up for fuckin’ a blow-up doll,” Spud said. “Let’s put this one in the kennel for the night and play with the princess instead.”

  “Eh. That one’s kinda skinny for my taste.”

  “Yeah, but she’s got all the same equipment and she’s real eager to please. Let’s do it.”

  Krissy wondered what they were talking about. Spud turned and started towards the old, dark farmhouse. The two men still holding Krissy up began dragging her along in his wake. She didn’t resist. With every step one or the other of her feet came down on something that hurt, but those were such small pains compared to all those she had felt tonight or was still feeling that she did no more that whimper whenever it happened. Her legs began to give out, so for the last bit of her walk the bikers to either side of her were all but carrying her along, sparing her feet but reminding her just how painfully cramped her back and shoulders still were. They dragged her past the old farmhouse. Behind it she saw what looked like a dog kennel, with a doghouse sitting at one end of a cement slab, surrounded by chain-link fencing on stout steel poles. Were they going to put her in there? If it meant she could just lie down and rest for a while, she didn’t care.

  Spud rattled the fence. “Come on out, princess,” he bellowed.

  Krissy was expecting to see a dog. Instead, a naked young woman crawled out. She was slender and small-breasted, with long dark hair done up in a ponytail.

  “You said I could rest!” she wailed. Then she looked up, saw Krissy, and froze on all fours with her mouth hanging open.

  “So, you rested,” Spud grunted as he turned a key in the padlock that secured the narrow gate. “You want to be part of the club, you gotta go through the initiation. If you’re already bitchin’ about it, what’re you gonna sound like when it really starts?” He swung the gate open. “Now get your skinny ass out here.”

  “Who’s she?” ‘Princess’ asked as she crawled out of the kennel, looking up at Krissy. Once outside of it, she stayed on her hands and knees. Krissy saw that she had some kind of elaborate tattoo on the small of her back, but she couldn’t tell much more about it.

  “None of your fuckin’ business,” Spud replied without looking at her. “Put the bitch in, guys.”

  Krissy didn’t resist as the two men pushed her into the kennel. She was able to stand on her own only until she heard the gate clang shut and then slowly collapsed onto the cold, hard cement pad. Her legs hurt, her arms hurt, her shoulders hurt, her back hurt, her ass smarted from the terrible spanking that terrible man had given her, and her stomach hurt from the dry heaves she’d had. Now she was starting to feel very chilled on top of everything else. But for the moment, at least, she was alone. Slowly, painfully, she crawled to the doghouse and stuck her head inside. She couldn’t see a damned thing, but at least it didn’t smell bad. In fact, the one scent that she could pick out was a faint trace of perfume. She groped inside and felt a blanket. That was enough for her. It might be cramped inside, but at least she’d be able to keep warm. It would have been nice to stretch out, but she would take whatever she could get. She curled up on the blanket, pulling a corner of it up over her, and tried to rest. She had no idea what time it was now, but she was feeling physically exhausted. Sleep sounded like a good idea. It was the only way she had to escape her misery, if only for a little while. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or the days after that. She shifted around inside the wooden doghouse, trying to make herself more comfortable. It was very quiet out here, aside from the constant background noise of the bugs and frogs, so different than the usual sounds of city life that for a while sleep would just not come. But her exhaustion was such that in a little while she could feel herself drifting off.

  Then a woman cried out, loudly enough to cut right t
hrough everything. Krissy was instantly fully awake, her heart pounding. The woman cried out again. It had to be ‘princess’. It wasn’t a scream, a cry for help, or a plea for mercy, just a loud, wordless sound of protest.

  “Aaaah! Aaaaah!” it came again and Krissy hugged herself in the dark, trembling. What were they doing to her? Another cry began, but was quickly muffled and then stopped, as if ‘princess’ had had something abruptly shoved into her mouth. Krissy could guess what that might have been. Give a guy a choice and he wanted to stuff his dick into your mouth ninety-nine times out of a hundred. And out here, those bikers had the choice and poor ‘princess’ didn’t have any choice at all. Krissy waited tensely for any more noises, but none came. She drifted off again.

  Krissy awoke to someone pounding furiously on the roof of the doghouse, so heavily that she felt as if she were inside of a bass drum.

  “Hey, you bitch, get your ass out here!” The voice was a woman’s, not a man’s. Krissy opened her eyes, blinking at the bright daylight outside. She could see two pairs of legs, women’s legs, clad in torn and faded denim jeans tucked into heavy leather boots. Still not fully awake, her mind still fuzzy, she cowered back against the doghouse wall, clutching the ratty old blanket around her.

  A woman’s face appeared in the doorway. It was feral-looking, with short, unkempt, light-brown hair, small, sharp eyes and a metal ring through the lower lip. It was smiling.

  “Get your ass out here, I said,” the woman said, almost pleasantly. “C’mon, we ain’t got all day.”