by John Argus
The shop was busy, with more than six or so men prowling its cluttered aisles. Leah dropped her eyes, blushing, as they all looked at her.
‘They think you’re a slut,’ Morales said indifferently, leading her further inside. And perhaps she was, which was the worst part. Knowing what was behind their eyes, the lurid thoughts they would be having, she squirmed and tried to keep Morales between she and them.
‘Hmm, here’s one almost as large as me,’ he said smugly, picking up an enormous dildo. He held it out to her. ‘Care to try it out?’
‘No,’ she hissed, flushing as other men nearby stared at them, but she felt the rings begin to burn and gasped. ‘Master,’ he said quietly. ‘Master,’ she repeated more desperately.
‘Louder,’ he quietly urged, his attention on another large dildo which he turned this way and that in his manicured fingers, examining it as though it were a piece of antique porcelain.
‘Master!’ she pleaded, loud enough for the two nearest men to hear her. Thankfully the rings stopped burning, but her face grew hotter with humiliation instead.
He picked up a vibrator and played with it, smiling at her, then activated it and pressed it against a nipple through her dress.
Leah gasped and jerked back, but he held her arm and rolled the buzzing toy in place, rubbing it back and forth across her nipple until she moaned softly, her body trembling. He chuckled, then slid it downwards, still holding her arm to keep her from backing away, sliding the shiny metal tube up beneath the short hem of her dress and pressing it against the little ball dangling from her clitoris.
‘Oh!’ she gasped, jerking and trembling. ‘Please!’
More men were drifting closer, attracted by her and what Morales was doing, and she cringed with mortification. ‘Please, master!’
‘You have too much pride,’ he calmly decreed. ‘You need to lose some of it.’
Sex heat flared through her groin and up through her belly and chest. She moaned and twisted from side to side, gasping and biting her lip to keep from crying out.
‘Take your dress off,’ he ordered.
‘Please,’ she gasped. ‘Please, no.’
‘You forgot to call me master again,’ he admonished impatiently. ‘Your pride keeps getting in your way. Remove the dress.’
Shame was beaten down by the terrible sexual hunger gripping her body, and her hands shook as she reached for the hem of the dress and tugged it up, baring her naked sex and bottom, then her flat tummy, then her ringed nipples. With her face blazing she peeled it over her head and off, dropping it behind her.
Her rubbery legs stumbled and she fell back against a counter, her hands reaching for his as he rubbed the vibrator back and forth across her swollen sex. All the men in the store, including the proprietor, were watching with amusement and hunger.
But Morales would not let her orgasm, and so she could only tremble and writhe and moan and yearn. ‘Please…’ she panted. ‘Please, master…’
‘Still too much pride.’ He withdrew the vibrator and picked up the really large dildo, then pressed it against her sex, forcing it slowly up through the taut lips and into the moist channel of her belly. She groaned and shuddered, mortified that so many strange eyes were watching, yet unable to stop him, shaking with lust so badly her fingers were digging into the counter on either side to keep herself from masturbating right then and there.
The dildo slid deeper, achingly deep, painfully deep, and she could only groan and let her head fall back, staring at the ceiling as sweat beaded on her forehead.
Morales forced the dildo deep and left it in place, the last inch or so protruding from between her slick lips.
‘Hands and knees,’ he ordered abruptly, and whimpering she obeyed, dropping her eyes to the floor as all the men stared, sensing the murmur of hunger within them.
‘Let us see what else we can find in this establishment,’ he said, placing the vibrator aside with disinterest and proceeding further along the aisle, Leah obediently crawling beside him, the shame and humiliation burning her face even as the hunger made her body tremble with need.
‘Ah,’ he said, clearly pleased. ‘We did speak about your punishment for impertinence, did we not?’ He picked up a smooth flat strap, perhaps eighteen inches in length, rounded at the tip.
‘Bend yourself across this counter,’ he ordered, pulling her up by the hair until the pain forced her to her feet.
‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘not hear. Please, I beg you, master.’
‘Bend over the counter,’ he sternly insisted, and disgraced she meekly obeyed, exposing her trembling lower body for them all, the dildo still protruding, the tight grip of her sex lips readily apparent to anyone watching.
He drew his arm back and the strap struck her bottom with a loud crack of noise and a sudden crack of pain. Leah gasped and rocked forward a little.
‘Were you a bad girl?’ he asked.
The strap again cracked across her bottom with stinging force.
‘Yes, master!’ she cried.
Again the strap cut across her buttocks, and again. The pain was intense and her bottom was quickly flaring and throbbing with heat.
The men gathered around, the evidence of their hardening cocks distending their trousers, staring rapturously at the lewdly displayed beauty as her bottom glowed red and the strap splatted across it repeatedly, a couple hungrily licking their lips, several openly rubbing their groins. They were ratty looking men in grubby clothes, none normally with a chance at a girl like her, men who were used to only watching them saunter past, fantasizing about what they would do to such a gorgeous female given half the chance.
‘Are you sorry for being a naughty girl?’ Morales asked mildly.
‘Y-yes!’ she squealed, but the strap bit loudly across her blotchy ass and she cried out again.
‘Master,’ he reminded her.
‘I’m sorry, master,’ Leah gasped, moaning as the strap bit into her aching bottom yet again.
‘Are you a naughty girl?’
‘Yes, master,’ she conceded, knowing it was the correct response.
‘Say it.’
She felt tears fill her eyes, partly from shame, partly from pain. ‘I’m a naughty girl, master,’ she said, her voice breaking, feeling his hand at her sex, gripping the dildo and forcing it even deeper, her fingers clutching the opposite edge of the counter as she held her breath.
‘This,’ he said, tapping the base of the dildo, ‘belongs to me. But if anyone wants this,’ he pressed his finger against her tight anus, ‘it will cost him a dollar.’
She did not at first understand, and then she did and her face paled with shock as she heard and sensed the men crowd around her.
‘Here’s your dollar!’
‘No, me!’
‘Me first!’
‘It’s my shop. I get first go!’
Leah could not force herself to look around, but focused on one wall, trembling then gasping as the first of them moved behind her and began to grope her bottom. She felt his cock against her anus and closed her eyes, biting her lip as she felt the pressure increase. But her secret yearning was intense, and despite her shame she could not bring herself to resist, could not bring herself to tear herself away, to deny these animals what they craved, to say no and leave the seedy shop. It was not his mind controlling her, but her own body’s hunger, and it craved the ugly sex she was about to be subjected to.
Leah stiffened as she felt the man’s rigid cock penetrating her, sinking into her rectum. She was tight, but he penetrated her with a few determined grunts and shoves, and began fucking her ass with zero regard for her, as though she was no more than one of the dolls he sold to some of his more desperate customers. She smelt beer on his breath as he panted heavily over her shoulder and squeezed his grimy hands beneath her t
o maul her breasts, squeezing roughly.
‘What about her mouth?’ she heard one of them demand. ‘I’ll give you a dollar for that, too.’
‘Oh, her mouth is worth far more than one dollar,’ Morales said, ‘because she has long mastered the art of taking a man into her throat. An extra ten cents, at least.’
A movement behind her, rough hands on her body, in her hair, and she twisted sideways, still leaning over the counter at an angle, but her head was turned around. She saw the man’s cock protruding from the fly of his jeans, and then the head was rubbing against her lips as his fingers gripped her hair and forced her face closer still.
His cock slid into her mouth and she sucked hungrily, ashamed but wildly aroused as it forged across her tongue and stretched her lips wide. She moaned around it as he pumped in and out, and then braced herself as he pushed it deep and the head slipped down her throat.
Their hands roamed hungrily over her body, groping and squeezing as they cursed softly and used her. When the man behind her emptied his spunk into her ass another hurriedly took his place, and as he rutted into her she felt her hunger explode. She screamed silently, her body writhing and bucking as the orgasm flooded her.
She was left dazed, hardly aware of her surroundings for a brief period, and she didn’t know how she came to be on the floor on all fours, nor cared as two men fucked her mouth and her ass. She felt drained of all energy, staring dully at the man’s groin as he thrust inside her throat again and again.
Men who’d taken their turn with her weary body slouched around recovering, and others entered the shop, swelling their numbers, the little bell clanging dully each time the door opened and closed. And each newcomer, seeing the raunchy sight, maneuvered for their go at the submissive beauty.
Leah did not see Morales anymore, did not feel him. When the latest man to ejaculate in her mouth released her hair she turned her head, still rocking forward as the man fucking her ass continued to stab his groin against her beaten buttocks, and saw no sign of him, feeling a sudden stab of fear, of abandonment. Then another men crowded her vision and eagerly thrust his cock into her mouth, holding her hair for surety as she began to suck.
She was used again and again, her body twisted and positioned just as the rabble wanted her. The dildo was extracted and she cried out in disgraceful delight as someone thrust his cock into her cunt from behind, her anus left unattended for the moment.
Then she was on her back, legs spread, knees forced back against her breasts as a fat man rammed himself down into her pussy.
Then she was bent over the counter, fucked by a tattooed man with long unkempt hair.
Then she was sitting astride a man slouched in a low chair, another thrusting into her bottom, a third holding her hair and pumping his erection in and out of her mouth and throat.
Orgasm after orgasm lashed her body and soul until she was little more than a dazed wreck, crying out for the next cock. She knelt, someone kneeling behind her, thrusting again into her rectum and squeezing her breasts, biting at the nape of her neck.
A man stood before her, pumping his cock savagely into her mouth, his fingers clamped tight in her hair. Both her hands were stretched out to either side, pumping up and down on slick male erections as sperm spilled out over her fingers. Semen sprayed her face and hair and her breasts until she lay exhausted, drained, covered in sweat and male juices and looking up at Morales.
‘Time to go home, I think,’ he said, lending her enough energy to rise on shaky legs, and then he led her out of the shop. She left her dress and her shoes behind, forced to pad naked alongside him on the cold concrete.
It was late, although she had no idea how long she had been in the shop. All the others had closed and the streets were largely empty. Still she squirmed, her arms folded over her breasts as she passed occasional pedestrians, but they took no note of her and she knew Morales was withholding the sight of her from them. Her feet were cold on the sidewalk, but she did not complain as she walked a little behind her master.
‘Now let’s see how your boss has been doing while we were away,’ he said as they at last reached his house.
Mbweni, it emerged, had been enjoying herself rather too much. Left to the mercy of the girls she was exhausted by her own orgasms, exhausted to the point of unconsciousness, her complexion pale, her features drawn.
The girls, however, were insatiable and continued to play with each other, sighing as they writhed together.
‘Put my pets in their cages before they wear themselves out completely,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I’ll put Mbweni to bed and let her recover somewhat before we talk.’
Leah did as instructed, leading the girls to their cages by their collars, while Morales carried Mbweni away as if she were weightless, but soon returned.
‘She and I will talk when she wakes,’ he said. ‘Now as to you, I did promise you a punishment for your poor behavior.’
‘I… I thought I’d already been punished,’ Leah protested nervously.
‘By enjoying all that sex?’ he mocked. ‘Oh no, that was merely to soften up that starchy pride of yours a little. No, your punishment must be something a deal less pleasant for you. But I am not without mercy, so you will have pleasure even in your pain.’
A black hole abruptly appeared in the wall behind him and he gripped her firmly by the arm and hauled her past him into it.
For long moments she fell through blackness, with no sight, no smell and no sound but her own screams. And then, abruptly, she stopped. She did not hit bottom, she was not caught. She was simply in another place.
And it was cold.
It was dark but she could see, after a fashion. She was outside – somewhere. Cold gnawed at her flesh and bones as she lay on a sheet of ice. She pulled herself up with a cry of discomfort. Freezing wind swirled around her and she clutched her arms to her breasts, her teeth already chattering as she stared around her.
There was no sign of a door, no sign of a building, or even a tree where she could shelter. She was in the middle of an endless sea of ice, with nothing in sight as far as the eye could see. The only sound was the mournful howl of the wind as it whistled around her, and her body felt cut by it as she danced from foot to foot.
Snow began to fall, getting heavier by the second. The wind picked it up and flung it sideways, spattering her face and body. ‘I’m sorry!’ she screamed, her voice barely audible even to her over the howling wind. She had never felt so cold in her life, never imagined it was possible to feel so cold. She sank to her knees on the ice, shivering vigorously, holding herself desperately.
‘I’m sorry!’ she cried again. Her flesh was freezing, her hands and feet numb, her breasts aching from the cold. It seeped deeper into her body and she felt herself growing stiff, frozen in place, but she continued to endure the terrible cold even as her limbs froze and she became almost a living statue, kneeling on the chilling ice.
The cold flayed her with its terrible icy bite. She felt her bone and muscle and internal organs freezing solid as the wind screamed shrilly past her ears. Her skin was white with frost and snow, and a layer of ice began to build on top of it, virtually entombing her alive.
She felt something beneath her shift. She could not move her head without great effort, and not enough to see beneath her. But she felt something solid pressing upwards against her groin, against the frozen lips of her sex. New pain assailed her as it forced her frozen labia aside and slowly drove upwards into her belly. It was cold, gleaming ice, and she cursed him in her mind, nearly hysterical with the unendurable cold.
It rose deep within her core; remorseless in its smooth movement until she knelt impaled upon it, feeling it burning her insides, the pain of its icy touch clawing at her insides.
There came another harsh touch, and another stout ice cock slowly forced its way through the frozen rosebud of he
r anus. Somehow, despite how utterly cold she was, the ice was still colder, rising into her tight rear channel, bloating, aching, burning, freezing.
And still the wind howled, icy blasts buffeting her, and the icicles inside her began to move, to stroke up and down within her. And they were melting, slick, wet, the water trickling from her anus and sex as they pumped in and out. Yet they did not melt away, they grew no more slender, no shorter, no smaller.
The cold was beyond intense and yet, despite it, despite her fear, despite her pain, the sensation of movement began to arouse her, although it was a different arousal to anything she had ever experienced before.
And yet, it seemed, pleasure could be cold as well as hot, and so her freezing, trembling body felt an icy wash of sensual excitement, lust and desire and need racing through her. Were she not frozen stiff she would have been riding up and down on the pumping ice cocks. Yet they made up for her own lack of movement, thrusting deep into her body with long, hard strokes.
Pleasure rose, frosty, clawing at her mind. The wind howled, buffeting her freezing body, sending new chills through her even as the coldest sexual pleasure she had ever felt rippled up through her belly. The orgasm was intense and like none that had gone before, shattering like ice crystals pounded on an anvil by a sledgehammer.
The wind grew even more intense. It was not possible to survive such cold, not for more than a few minutes, but somehow every minute was as if it were her first, and the depth of the cold never seemed to diminish.
Another orgasm washed over her, even more raw, more intense, more powerful, and she screamed soundlessly, her body stiffening still further, vibrating like a tuning fork. And then somehow she was released, released to fall onto her back on the slick ice, crying out, her voice free once more as she squirmed, rubbing her sex and arching her back.
She went limp, exhausted, yet the sexual desire did not fade, it merely dimmed. She rose to her knees, still cold to her bones, folding her arms across her breasts. Her body was no longer covered in ice, no longer frozen; her skin was soft and warm again, yet she was freezing in the icy blasts of wind.
