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From: Night Writer <night_writer99@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Surrendering Sarah {Night Writer} (nc, wife) [8/?]
Date: Tue, 22 Aug 2000 07:10:14 -0400
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Surrendering Sarah
by Night Writer
Chapter 8
By eleven o'clock I had given up hope. Then, ten minutes later, the
doorbell rang. It was Sarah, or what was left of the Sarah I knew. She
stood there in the doorway as if she was unsure whether she had the
right house. She finally managed a warm smile, and I realized she was
waiting for me to invite her inside. I was stunned by her new look. The
pink "Barbie" t-shirt had been trimmed to show her long, slim waist,
leaving just enough material to make sure the now distorted lettering
was intact. Her new breasts strained against the thin cotton,
stretching it so tightly that the bottom curve of each hard ball of
flesh peeked from beneath it. White stretch-pants covered her like a
second skin from waist to ankles. Her hips swayed as she struggled to
keep her balance, poised precariously on the hot pink six-inch
heels. As she stepped through the door, I noticed the seam down the
front of her pants had been partially split, just enough to allow her
plump labia to escape when her legs were not pressed tightly together.
Once inside, her smile widened. She walked slowly toward me, greeting
me with a tight hug. Her lips brushed my ear, her breath hot and sweet
on my neck. She was an inch taller than I in her six-inch heels,
and the solid flesh of her new breasts felt alien against my chest. Her
hand found the fly of my slacks, and easily worked its way inside,
milking and rolling my cock with surprising skill. She nibbled my ear,
while a voice I didn't know oozed from her lips like warm honey.
"Mmmm. That's it. Get it hard for me. I'm sooo hot for it. My pussy's
so wet. I need you inside me, to fuck me, to make me cum. Ooohhh, yes.
I need a cock in me. Please put your cock in me. Please put your cock
in Barbie. Barbie will make you cum too. Barbie will be your fucktoy.
Barbie will suck you, drink your cum - "
I broke free and shoved her away. She fell backwards, falling on her
ass with her legs in the air, her wet slit glaring at me from between
the pink high heels.
"Stop it! Stop it, Sarah! This has to stop! Can't you see how you're
acting? You're not Barbie! You're Sarah, my wife! Don't let them do
this to you! You're home now - you're safe! You don't have to play
Barbie now! Just be Sarah. Please, please, just be Sarah, my wife. Oh
Christ, what have I done? What have I let them do to you?"
She sat there on the floor watching as I went from rage, to
helplessness, to utter despair. My hands shook violently, still
suspended in the air from the sudden push I gave her. She stared at me
with the pathetic look of a confused animal. The tiny pink top had
released both breasts, now mounted ludicrously on her chest like two
fleshy grapefruits.
Her flat belly began to shake. A single tear rolled down her cheek,
landing in the deep valley between her breasts. She cried harder,
finally becoming hysterical. I knelt beside her, cradled her head in my
arms, and cried with her. Soon a part of Sarah came back to me,
defeated and humiliated.
"I'm so sorry, so sorry, Honey. I don't know what happened to me. I was
so exhausted, so drunk, so tired of fighting them - I can't believe I
did those things. And - oh, God - how could I have let another man make
me cum? How can you ever forgive me? Now you'll never want me again!
I'm filthy - a filthy slut - just a filthy, filthy slut. . . "
She ranted on for a while, then quickly collapsed into a deep sleep.
After carrying her upstairs to bed, I tried to undress her, but the
clothes clung so tightly to her limp body that I gave up and tucked
her in as she was. She never stirred.
Later that night I found myself back in the basement with a bottle of
my favorite scotch, pouring glass after glass of courage to end this
nightmare once and for all.
-*-
I let her sleep the next morning, calling her boss as usual to let him
know Sarah was still under the weather, but would return soon. I didn't
have the same luxury. I owned my own company, and had missed too many
days over the past week.
At work, the hours dragged on, until I finally called Sarah at noon.
She answered in a groggy voice, but sounded more and more like the
Sarah I knew. I told her I'd be home early and to get some rest. She
said she'd try. She sounded so small and fragile I felt guilty for
leaving her alone.
She seemed brighter that evening, more alert and centered than I'd seen
her in a week. She had dinner ready when I stepped through the door,
and spoke calmly while we ate.
"Rock's leaving town tomorrow. He and his friends are riding to the
west coast for a while. I don't think he'll bother us again. He said
we've paid our debt to him. We'll be ok now."
I looked across the table, studying her to make sure she was serious.
"He said that? He said that we're even? He's leaving town?"
"Well, yes. He said that after he had sex with me, and made me, um,
cum, that there was nothing else left to take from us - and that I
should name the baby after him. Don't worry, I'm not pregnant! It was
just his way of leaving us with a final insult. So typical of the slimy
bastard. Anyway, he's gone. Will you be ok?"
"Me? How about you??"
"I don't know. I think we have a lot of things to try to forget. If
you'll try, I'll try too. We'll take it a day at a time - maybe an hour
at a time, for a while. I still love you. Try to remember that."
She sat there in her white cotton blouse like she had so many other
nights, trying to be strong for me, trying to reassure me after all she
had been through. But tonight that blouse was fuller, the middle two
buttons straining to contain the bulging mounds of flesh inside. Some
things would be harder to forget than others.
After dinner I relaxed under the hot spray of a much-needed shower
while Sarah called a co-worker to prepare for her return to the office
the next day. Although a hundred horrors still raced through my mind,
the relief I felt was exhilarating, and seeing Sarah padding about the
empty house in a pair of my old slippers, her bright eyes now offering
hope and forgiveness, brought a new optimism for our recovery and
future together.
She was still on the phone when I dried off, so I wrapped myself in my
thick, new robe and decided to catch up on some reading until she
finished. As I sat on the edge of the bed, a sudden thunk startled me.
I looked down to see my loaded 9-mm on the floor. I had hidden it under
the mattress the day before, and had forgotten it was there. It was odd
how unfamiliar and menacing it looked lying there, after having spent
so many intimate hours with it plotting the route to our freedom. I
pushed it back between the mattress and box springs, planning to
dispose of it when Sarah wasn't around. No need to scare her.
"Honey, could you come here for a minute?"
I smiled to myself as I left the bedroom, certain that she needed help
with the VCR, or some other gizmo that was my specialty.
Betty and her friends stood just inside the front door. Sarah was
naked, facing them with her back to me. She knelt between a petite
blonde's legs, her face buried in her crotch, feverishly licking and
slurping as the others looked on with approval. Sarah's hands clutched
the girl's thighs as her assault escalated. I could hear the wet,
sucking sounds from where I stood across the room. Betty grinned and
winked at me, amused by my surprised look.
"Sport! Nice to see you again! The girls and I just dropped by to see
if Sarah can go with us tonight. We're celebrating our last night in
town, a kind of "girls night out". I'm sure you won't mind, will you?
This is my friend Shayla, and her friend Stacey. Oh, sorry, it looks
like Stacey and Sarah are busy at the moment, getting acquainted and
all."
Shayla stood to her right. She was six feet six inches of lean, black
muscle that looked like she meant business. Her long, black leather
coat opened in the front to reveal a black thong and black leather
halter that barely contained her huge breasts. A small, gold charm
dangled from a gold ring that pierced her navel. Cornrows lined her
perfectly rounded skull, and tangles of black braids woven with multi-
colored beads parted over her shoulders, clattering like tumbling dice
when she turned to sneer at me. She held an elaborately braided leash
ending at a short loop of chain that was Stacey's collar. She was the
image of a proud, African princess - with an attitude.
Betty produced a plastic garment bag and offered it to me as Shayla
watched Sarah with a critical eye.
"We even brought her something nice to wear tonight. I think she
deserves a better wardrobe than those tacky T-shirts you bought for
her. She'll look much nicer in this."
I took the heavy bag and stood there in my robe, still in shock.
"Well, sport! The least you can do is help the girl get ready! If you
can't fuck her, maybe you can dress her. While you're at it, give her a
shower and wash her hair. We want to look hot tonight - all of us!"
Shayla gave Stacey's leash a nasty yank, reeling her in next to her.
Stacey glanced at Sarah, then allowed a pent-up giggle to escape.
Shayla exploded, shrieking at Stacey, inches from her face.
"Insolent little bitch! I will not tolerate simple-minded outbursts
from the likes of you! Explain yourself, Pet, or you'll be very, very
sorry!"
Stacey couldn't suppress another giggle before continuing.
"It's her! It's her, Mistress!"
Shayla studied Sarah for a few seconds, then returned her attention to
Stacey.
"Who - is - 'HER'?? Tell me! Now!"
"I'm sorry, Mistress. It's Sarah Breckenridge. I know her from work.
She's an accountant there. I'm one of her secretaries. It's just that,
that, well, she's a real bitch. She thinks she's better than all of us.
I just wasn't sure it was her at first. I'm sorry for laughing without
permission. Please forgive me?"
Shayla and Betty exchanged surprised stares, then broke into roaring
laughter. Shayla took Stacey's face in her hands and kissed her hard on
the mouth. She seemed to melt in Shayla's hands, pressing her slim,
white body against yards of hard, brown flesh.
Shayla hugged her as she grinned at Betty over Stacey's shoulder.
"You're forgiven, Pet. Not only are you forgiven, I'll see to it that
you have a night to remember - for a long, long time."
Her grin widened as Sarah and I trailed off into the bedroom with her
new clothes.
As we approached the bathroom I heard Sarah muttering to herself in
front of me.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
I stopped and turned her to face me. Her eyes were red and glassy, her
face pale and drawn. She still looked exhausted.
"I'm so sorry, Hon. I wish there was something I could do. Who would
have guessed that she'd come back for one last night? But it's one
night, then they're gone for good."
"One night! Don't you understand? I have to go back to work tomorrow!
It was going to be hard enough explaining my hair and tits, but now I
have to deal with her! Stacey's the worst gossip in the entire firm. We
didn't get along to start with. The little slacker is always looking
for ways to get out of doing her job. She'll make my life a living
hell!"
"Ok, so quit. Don't even go back. You're great at your job. I'll bet
you can find another one in a week. We'll work it out."
"Work it out? Work it out? That's easy for you to say! I've spent nine
years clawing my way to the top. Do you have any idea how rare that is
for a woman in this city? I'll be a partner any day now. And you expect
me to just walk away, start over? I'll tell you what, 'Sport'. Why
don't you just give up your business and start over? Think you can work
that out?"
She was nearly hysterical, crying and screaming at me at the top of her
voice. Shayla appeared behind us, scowling and clearing her throat.
"I'll tell you what, Sport. If you don't shut her up and get her in the
shower, neither one of you will be able to start over. Allow me to be
crystal clear. I'm already late for what began as a chance to spend
some quality time with my friends. I'm a very impatient person. You're
wasting my precious time with your pathetic whining. Get her ready,
now, before I lose what little control I have left. You have thirty
minutes. After that, I drag her naked into the street whether she's
ready or not. Understand?"
She stood there waiting, ebony muscles flexing behind black leather. A
chill ran through me when I realized she planned to watch every minute
of Sarah's grooming.
I adjusted the shower the way Sarah liked it, and helped her in. She
picked up the soap and began lather it over her arms and shoulders.
Shayla shouted orders from the doorway.
"Give the soap to him, Sarah! It's his job to clean you. And Sport, get
that robe off, get in there with her, and get started! NOW!"
I dropped the robe on the floor and climbed in beside her. Shayla's
eyes devoured us as I pulled the shower curtain closed. She was there
in two long strides. The curtain exploded outward as she jerked it
free, finally tearing the aluminum rod from the wall above us.
"Don't get cute, Sport! Get busy!!"
I moved the soapy wash cloth over Sarah's body, taking humiliating
instructions from the black amazon. It was the first time I had touched
her new breasts, and I was shocked at how tight and hard they were as I
covered them with a foamy coating of soap. She told me how to wash
between Sarah's legs, first parting her smooth labia with one hand,
then rubbing her clit in small, slow circles with the soapy cloth.
Sarah scowled at me the entire time. The sharp fingers of steamy
water washed tear after tear from her face as Shayla enjoyed every
second of her misery.
I lathered her hair with shampoo, rinsed it, and started over, per
Shayla's instructions. The familiar handfuls of chestnut brown were now
two-inch strands of jet-black fluff with cinnamon roots.
I finally led her from the shower, drying her from head to toe as
Shayla watch every move. She came a few steps closer, fingering and
parting Sarah's hair.
"Hmmm. This won't do. Not at all. You need something that screams, 'I'm
Barbie, and I'm the fuck of your dreams!'"
She searched through the bottom of the garment bag for a few seconds,
and retrieved a small plastic bottle.
"This should do the trick. I'll see to it myself."
Twenty minutes later Sarah's ermine hair was a blinding platinum
blonde. Shayla was proud of her work. She circled Sarah repeatedly,
running her hands through Sarah's shocking white mane.
"Now that's Barbie hair! You should wear it longer, though. Men love
the feel of long, soft hair on their cocks. Why do you wear it so
short?"
"Rock said it would be easier to wash the cum out of it. He likes it
this way."
Sarah's tone was defensive, and surprised Shayla.
"Well, Rock's leaving tomorrow, and I don't give a shit how long it
takes you to get the spunk out of your hair, so you'll wear it longer
from now on, understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
Shayla handed me the plastic garment bag and ordered me to get Sarah
dressed quickly. Its contents both confused and appalled me. I emptied
the unfamiliar items onto the bed and began to sort them according to
size. Sarah stood helplessly beside me, too embarrassed to offer any
assistance. Shayla came to the rescue with her usual blatant
instructions. I cringed when Sarah modeled the results for us.
The white spandex shorts barely covered her ass, and clung to the inner
folds of her pussy like wet tissue paper. A black fishnet crop-top
exaggerated the fullness of her new breasts, exposing the long lines of
her narrow waist. White lace gloves ran from fingertips to elbows, and
fluffy white anklets topped her hot pink, six-inch heels. A brief,
pink, pvc motorcycle jacket and matching pink cap completed the
outrageous outfit. She couldn't have looked more like a hooker if she
had carried a sign that read "Fuck me!".
Just as they ushered Sarah out the door to the waiting limo, Rock
arrived. He had been drinking all day, and didn't hesitate to grab
Sarah, giving her a long, wet kiss. Betty waved him off, telling him it
was "girls night", and that he'd have to catch up with them later, if
he could find them. Never one to turn down a challenge, he revved his
bike and started off after them. At the end of the driveway he stopped,
looked back, and motioned me over.
"C'mon Sport! Hop on! Let's go, before we lose them!"
I straddled the jarring machine in my bathrobe, trying to hold on and
keep the robe closed while he sped after the black limo. We followed it
for thirty minutes, finally stopping in the middle of a cluster of
warehouses near the waterfront.
The girls got out and walked fearlessly along the dark street, passing
one dingy, yawning entrance after another, until, rounding a corner
into a narrow alley, a flickering neon sign glowed ominously in the
thickening fog. A single figure cast a long shadow on the damp
concrete. He wore a tuxedo, and seemed oblivious to the rain that had
just begun to fall. The sign over his head read, "Leather & Lace". He
stood in front of a heavy steel door, guarding it with his well-muscled
bulk.
The girls approached to within twenty feet of the brute, then
stopped, chattering quietly among themselves. Rock and I jogged to
catch up to them. We arrived just as they sent Sarah over to him,
looking every bit the well-oiled sex machine. She strutted like a
whore, her hips swaying invitingly as the bouncer watched her with a
contemptuous grin. Everyone waited in hushed anticipation for her to
reach him. Shayla passed a tiny camcorder to Stacey, who giggled
quietly while she taped Sarah's every move. The next words we heard
were Barbie's.
"Hi. I'm Barbie."
He looked her over, eyes stopping on the fishnet top, where her nipples
had worked through the coarse netting.
"I'll bet you are," he laughed. "What can I do for you, Barbie?"
"My friends and I are looking for a party. Can we go in?"
"Well, Barbie, this is a private club. Are you a member?"
She pouted a few seconds, then shook her head.
"I didn't think so. Sorry, if you're not a member, I can't let you in.
Of course, sometimes if a young lady is very nice to me, I can be
persuaded to make an exception. Can you be very nice to me, Barbie?"
Her eyes widened and she nodded enthusiastically. Then, without another
word, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Opening his fly,
she searched inside his pants until she pulled his cock free. She
licked the underside of it in one long stroke, starting at his balls,
then continued up to the tip where she eagerly sucked a sticky droplet
of precum into her mouth. He held her head in both hands, tilting it up
to look into her face.
"Beg, Barbie. Show me how grateful you can be - if you want in, that
is."
Her voice changed pitch, becoming almost childlike. She whined and
pleaded like a little girl. His cock grew hard and thick as she ran her
delicate fingers over the length of it, stopping at the base to trace
lightly over his balls. Stacey's hands shook as she struggled to keep
the camcorder still, doing her best to capture every word and gesture.
"Please let me suck your cock. It's sooo big and thick. So juicy and
tasty. Barbie loves cock. I get so wet when my mouth is fucked by a
huge cock like yours. I'll drink your cum, too. I won't spill a drop, I
promise. Can Barbie suck you now, pleeeease?"
She didn't wait for his answer. Her mouth was full of him seconds after
she ran out of words, sucking and slurping the hard meaty shaft while
she pumped him with both hands. He came with a long moan, pounding her
throat with his cock while his strong hands grasped her by short
strands of platinum hair. She choked when he hit the back of her
throat, allowing trickles of semen to leak from both corners of her
mouth. The camcorder whirred as Stacey zoomed in for her closeup.
The bouncer waited until she cleaned him, then helped her to her feet.
"That was ok, Barbie. I've had better, but you get extra points for the
slutty outfit. Tell you what. Sweeten the pot a little and I'll get you
and your friends inside. What do you say to, oh, $200, each?"
"Um, well, I don't have that much cash on me."
She dug into the tiny pink purse, sifting through its contents.
"I-I have this credit card. Will that do?"
He plucked it from her hand, chuckling at her predicament.
"This will do just fine, cutie. Get your friends and let's go inside."
She turned and waved to us with a lacy white glove. Betty was beside
her before the bouncer opened the door.
"Barbie, aren't you going to thank the nice man?"
He faced her and waited.
"Thank-you for letting me suck your cock. You're cum was delicious."
He looked at Betty, grinned, and raised his eyebrows.
"I don't know where you found her, but they're gonna have a ball with
her tonight. Follow me, everybody."
Once inside, "Leather & Lace" was worse than I imagined. A live heavy-
metal band assaulted us with the earsplitting whine of guitars from an
elevated stage across the cavernous room. We entered at the balcony
level where the bouncer swiped our credit card to pay his inflated
cover charge. As he handed it back to Sarah, I saw his hand cupped
against her crotch, kneading her pussy through the paper-thin spandex.
She merely smiled back at him, traced her finger over the front of his
jeans a few times, and thanked him again.
Betty led us down the steep stairs to the floor level. The dim interior
was shoulder-to-shoulder with women, all partially dressed, or
undressed, in the most bizarre collection of costumes I had ever seen
or imagined. Slashing beams of intense light cut through the darkness
from above, interrupted only by the intermittent blasts of blinding
white strobes.
A skinny blonde wearing only a leather collar and black thong
recognized Shayla and stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. Shayla
grabbed her collar, pulled her face close, and kissed her brutally.
Betty led us through the crowd, leaving a preoccupied Shayla and her
friend by the stairs while Stacey stood near them and pouted.
It took us nearly ten minutes to work our way to the bar at the
opposite end of the room. The stainless steel surface ran the entire
width of the club, lined with thirsty customers taking advantage of the
wait by pawing and fondling each other as though no one watched or
cared. Betty and Rock pushed to the front of the line, waving
frantically at the bartender. Sarah and I were alone for the first time
tonight. I moved a step nearer to her and discreetly took her hand. It
seemed to startle her. She glanced over at Betty, then looked back at
me and gently squeezed my hand. After another quick glance at the bar,
her lips were next to my ear, her words quiet and desperate.
"Help me. Please do something. I'm scared."
For a second, I was plotting again, determined to play her hero, sure
that I could save her. There must be a way. If only -
Then her tongue was deep in my ear, swirling and sucking, drenching me
with her saliva. I turned with a start to see her grinning at me
obscenely, licking her bright pink lips, her hand now gripping mine
with all her strength.
"What's the matter, Sport? Don't you like women anymore? Afraid your
dick won't get hard again? Or is it just me? Don't like my new look?
Well, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
Her voice went from pleading to mocking, then suddenly to frustration
and anger.
"Damn you, damn you, damn you! What's wrong with you! Are you going to
be a pussy all your life? Look at me! Every man that sees me wants to
fuck me! All you can do is stand there with your limp dick and watch!
Why don't you want me? Why, why, why???"
I was stunned. She shoved me repeatedly as she ranted, then unleashed a
flurry of punches, hitting my chest with her small fists. Betty and
Rock returned carrying our drinks, just in time to witness her
outburst. Betty took her by the shoulders from behind and pulled her
away from me.
"What the fuck is going on, Barbie? We've been here all of twenty
minutes and already you've managed to make a scene! I knew you didn't
have much of a brain, but now I'm wondering whether you have any at
all!"
Sarah slipped back into her Barbie voice, this time with frightening
ease.
"He was being mean to me, Betty. He's not nice like the other men - not
nice at all!"
Rock grabbed my robe and pulled me away from them, leading me toward
the bar.
"C'mon Sport. Lets get you out of here before you get in any more
trouble."
He found two empty stools near the middle of the bar, sat me on one of
them, and handed me a drink.
"It's scotch, Sport - your poison, according to Barbie, right?"
I nodded and took the glass, downing it in two swallows. Rock made sure
it stayed full. The bar tab was added to our bill, now charged to the
credit card Sarah had given the bouncer. It would be an expensive
night.
While Betty was showing off Sarah to her friends, Rock pointed to a
small cage the size of several telephone booths, suspended at the edge
of the balcony, overlooking the club. A nearly naked young girl gyrated
inside, rocking and grinding her hips to the music. She wore a tiny
crop-top, identical to Sarah's, and nothing else. After the third
double, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She leaned back against the
bars at the rear of the cage, thrusting her hips at us as though she
was fucking an invisible partner. Her body was slick with sweat and she
panted and groaned like an animal in heat. It was a chilling sight.
Between his usual lewd remarks, Rock leaned closer and opened his hand.
"Here you go, Sport. These will help you make it through the night.
You'll thank me later."
"What are they?" I asked, eyeing the two purple capsules.
"You don't want to know, Sport. Just shut up and take them. NOW."
I washed them down with a slug of scotch, hoping I could handle
whatever he had given me.
"Rock! Lover! I have't seen you in ages!"
A girl in her early twenties ran from behind the bar, jumped into
Rock's lap, and kissed him for what seemed like an eternity. Her long,
wavy black hair shimmered over her bare back as she squirmed against
him. Two perfect brown legs led to a pair of tiny cutoffs, now unable
to cover most of her firm, round ass. As she pulled away from him, both
breasts nearly escaped the tiny black halter. She looked over at me and
giggled.
"Who's your friend, and is that a bratwurst under his robe, or is he
just glad to see me?"
"That's Sport. Sport, this is Kathy. And it looks like he's really glad
to see you, babe."
They both laughed and pointed at my lap where, to my embarrassment, my
erection had slipped through the opening of the robe. Now I had a
pretty good idea of what the pills were for. I pulled the robe together
to cover myself, but Kathy stopped me and opened it again. She moved in
beside me, rubbing her breasts against my face while running her nails
slowly up and down the length of my cock. My erection hardened and
throbbed almost painfully as she played with me. A few of the women on
either side of us had now gathered around to watch. I was never so
humiliated, but my penis seemed to have a mind of its own.
She teased me by stroking it slowly, then circling the head with her
fingertips, gently pulling and tugging at it until it spasmed and
jerked wildly. Then she stopped, and women around us joked about what a
slut I was for allowing them to play with me in public. Finally, after
half an hour of torture, she let the other women take turns with me,
joking with them about who would be the first to make me cum. The drugs
did their work, and by the time a menacing looking bull-dyke had her
turn, I lost control, spraying semen everywhere. They congratulated the
winner, applauding her skill and my performance. Kathy was ready
nearby, collecting every drop of cum in a small glass, displaying it
proudly on the bar.
Rock kept the drinks coming, and after a few more doubles, pointed to
the second cage, which until now had been empty. I watched as Betty
helped Sarah inside. A small spotlight drew everyone's attention to the
balcony where Sarah surveyed the crowd from twenty feet overhead. Betty
had taken the white shorts and pink jacket, leaving her only the flimsy
net top, pink high-heels, white gloves, and shocking pink motorcycle
cap.
Betty barked at her from outside the cage, and she began to dance,
slowly at first, then mimicking the other dancer as Betty ordered her
to follow the other girl's seductive grinding and thrusting. Betty
urged her on, becoming more threatening when Sarah hesitated to rub her
cunt up and down over one of the thin chrome bars closest to the
audience. She relented quickly, burying the vertical rod between her
reddened labia, then sliding up and down over it as she panted and
moaned in feigned ecstasy.
Rock stared and cheered, I drank, and Sarah danced - for hours. A new
dancer entered the other cage every half-hour, but Betty forced Sarah
to continue without a break. She was exhausted, her slim body slick
with sweat as her dancing slowed, now an exercise in futility.
The crowd parted in front of us, revealing a six-foot circle of blue
light. At its center was a gleaming steel column topped with a small,
blinking light. Shayla stood behind it, with Stacey at her side. She
turned to look at Sarah, now barely able to stay on her feet. Shayla
shot me an evil grin, extended her well-muscled arm, and pressed the
blinking button. A deafening clap of recorded thunder shook the club,
and strobes everywhere shot volleys of blinding light in all
directions. Sarah's eyes widened. She lurched to the back of the
cage as the electric current surged from the floor through the cleverly
concealed steel rods in her pink heels. Her slim calves and thighs
hardened and twitched as the voltage shot through her. Its dying tingle
spread upward, between her legs, coaxing her labia and clit to swell
and stiffen. She looked stunned for a few seconds, then danced faster.
Her eyes were wild with panic as the rules of the new game became clear
to her.
Shayla toyed with Sarah for an hour. The crowd cheered and laughed each
time Shayla's finger hovered over the button, making Sarah dance faster
with every last bit of energy she could muster. When her dancing slowed, Shayla
hit the button again, holding it a few seconds longer. Sarah began to cry out as
the shocks became more sustained. The muscles of her thighs bulged with rigid
ropes of flesh under the smooth, white skin, and her hips bucked and spasmed in
continual rhythmic thrusts. When Shayla released the button, Betty was there,
shouting instructions, ordering her to match the other dancer's frenzied moves.
Even with the shocks, Sarah was eventually too tired to do much more than shuffle
from foot to foot. When Shayla pushed the button, Sarah would jerk and twitch
until the shock subsided, but her aching muscles and shattered nerves prevented
much of a response at all.
I watched from my seat at the bar in a drugged and alcoholic stupor. At
times I wasn't sure whether it was a dream or reality. My erection had
persisted for hours, and I had lost count of how many strange women,
all lesbians, had teased me until I spurted another stream of semen
into Kathy's bar-glass.
Then Shayla came for me. She stood before me like a powerful, mythic
goddess, her smooth, chocolate skin rippling as she reached for me. I
found a part of me strangely attracted to her intimidating physical
appearance and proud, forceful air. The other larger part of me was
scared to death at what might follow.
She led me to the center of the club and peeled the robe off my
shoulders. My cock wobbled in front of me, still harder than I had ever
seen it. Hundreds of women stared at my nearly naked body, making
obscene comments about my raging hard-on. 'Humiliated' or 'degraded'
didn't come close to what I felt, even in my drugged state. Sarah
stared down at me from her cage. Even through her defeat and
exhaustion, I sensed her anger and disbelief.
Shayla took my hand and held my palm in the air, an inch above the
button. Sarah's eyes widened, then shaking her head, she begged me with
every once of breath that remained.
"Nooo! Please, please, nooooo!"
At Shayla's signal, Stacey knelt beside me, taking my cock in her hand.
She played with it like a new toy, amusing herself by exploring each
vein and ridge with her sharp nails. My legs began to shudder as I
tried with everything I had not to give in to her touch. Sarah was
shaking so badly that the cage rattled, while tears streamed from her
drawn face to the floor below.
Shayla held my shoulders from behind, whispering my instructions as
Stacey stroked my balls, then traced wandering patterns up and down the
underside of my cock with the tip of her finger. I had reached a line I
couldn't cross, under any circumstances. I wouldn't do it. When I told
her, she replied in an instant, hissing her threat at me.
"You WILL do it! If you don't, I'll turn up the juice and fry the
little cunt myself!"
As her last word hit me, Stacey pumped my cock with both hands,
catching me by surprise. I came with a muffled groan, watching the cum
spurt into Stacey's hands. My palm fell against the button, holding it
until the crushing orgasm subsided. Sarah thrashed against the bars of
the cage, unable to escape the endless, burning shock. She cried out to
me, begging me to stop. Her piercing screams grew louder with
nightmarish intensity as I lost myself in Stacey's skillful victory
over me. Hidden in the waves of satisfying release, under the guilt and
shame for being the cause of Sarah's pain, buried so deeply that to
find it would mean our destruction, I wanted to push that button. I
wanted to see her suffer for the self-doubt she nurtured in me. How
sick had I become? It was Rock's doing. Soon it would be my turn to
undo it.
Afterward, Sarah lay panting on the cage floor. I could just make out
her bewildered eyes peering over the edge, terrified of another shock.
Stacey wiped my cock clean, coating her fingers with an even layer of
sticky semen. She turned and held her hands up for Sarah to see.
"He's mine now, bitch! All mine!"
Sarah's eyes closed and her body went suddenly limp. The crowd cheered,
chanting, "Sta - cey! Sta - cey! Sta - cey!". Stacey turned slowly in
the blue circle of light, cum-coated hands in the air, relishing the
crowd's praise, and her victory over her long-time rival.
An hour passed, Betty revived Sarah, and Rock saw to it that my glass
was always full of scotch. Betty, Sarah, Shayla, and Stacey joined us
at the bar at 4:00 AM for last call. Sarah was conscious, but seemed to
be in shock. A blank stare was all she could manage when anyone spoke
to her. She didn't recognize me at all.
Kathy stepped up onto the bar to get the crowd's attention.
"Last call, everybody! But before you go, we owe Barbie one on the
house for entertaining us tonight. Come on up, Barbie!"
Stacey led her to the edge of the bar, climbing up first, then pulling
Sarah up over the leather padding. The three of them towered over the
restless sea of women. Sarah stared straight ahead.
"Here's to Barbie and her best friend, Stacey! Drink up, girl!"
She handed the all-too-familiar glass to Stacey. It was now almost
half-full of cum, with contributions from the bouncer, and anyone who
happened by the dark warehouses that evening. Stacey held the glass to
Sarah's lips and spoke to her so that everyone could hear.
"Drink, Barbie. It's good. You love cum. It's so thick and salty. It's
your favorite drink, remember? Mmmmmm. Nice and warm, like it's fresh
out of a big, thick cock."
My stomach churned while I watched Sarah guzzle the slimy mass of semen
as though it was the finest brandy. She smiled sheepishly as the crowd
applauded, then slowly and deliberately licked the last bit of it from
her hot-pink lips. Her eyes stopped on me as she scanned the crowd. The
sheepish smile widened, changing to something much more sinister. I
soon realized she was staring at my cock, still rigid from a second
dose of Rock's drugs. But it was Barbie who looked down at me from the
bar; it was a hard cock she wanted, any hard cock, and nothing more.
By the time we left Leather & Lace, the rain had slowed to a fine, even
mist. The flickering, blue sign above the door was dark, and the
bouncer was nowhere to be found. Hours of rain made the long walk back
to where we had parked seem less ominous. The standing water gave the
illusion of having washed away the grime and neglect of the decaying
buildings, and the reflections of occasional signs and streetlights in
the glistening streets seemed to brighten our way.
Soon the black limo was in sight, flanked by the gleaming chrome of
Rock's bike. Sarah barely kept pace with the rest of us as the fatigue
of hours of dancing made walking in the six-inch heels more difficult
than ever. Then, as one of her pink spiked heels sank into a patch of
soft earth, she lurched to one side and disappeared from sight with a
brief, shrill cry. Everyone stopped, peering over the edge of the road
into a shallow drainage ditch. Sarah fought desperately as she tried to
get a footing in the wet grass. She nearly escaped the four-foot
ditch when her left shoe buckled and she fell to the bottom, this time
sliding a few feet deeper, then falling further into a newly excavated
pit bordered by two barricades with flashing yellow lights. The six-
foot deep trench held two inches of water from the recent rain, and
Sarah landed face-down in the muck at the bottom. She tried again and
again to get up, but her aching arms and legs had only enough strength
to pull her a few inches above the mud before falling again face-first
while everyone howled with laughter.
Betty hopped into the ditch, still laughing so hard she couldn't speak.
Every time Sarah tried to pull herself out of the muddy hole, Betty
placed a booted foot between her shoulder blades, pushing her back into
the mud with a splash. Finally, she rested the sole of her boot on the
back of Sarah's head, shoving her face into the muddy water and holding
it there. Sarah's arms and legs thrashed wildly as she fought for air.
Rock and Stacey were in tears, now joined by a small group of passing
dock-workers arriving for the early morning shift. Steaming cups of
black coffee passed from hand to hand as the men pointed into the pit
and joked about the way Sarah's nearly naked body twisted and splashed
under Betty's boot.
After having her fun, Betty towed Sarah from the pit. Betty had
retrieved her shoes, and handed them to Sarah with a grin. Sarah choked
and wheezed as she bent to put them on, giving the workers a show they
wouldn't soon forget. Rock strolled over to her, tilting her chin up to
him as he looked into her face, now crusty with drying mud.
"Barbie, Barbie, Barbie. You won't find any big cocks down there in
that mud-hole. Poor Barbie. The only cock you've seen all night has
been Sport's, and it looks like he's saving that for Stacey. I'll bet
your little pussy has been soaked for hours just waiting for the next
man to shove his meat into you. After all, a real Barbie doesn't feel
like a woman without a fresh load of cum inside her, does she?"
By this time, a much larger group of workers had gathered and stared
quietly, not believing the scene that played out in front of them.
Sarah ignored them while she whined and begged.
"I want to be your Barbie, Rock. Please fuck me. Put your big, thick
cock in me. Fill my pussy with your cum. I need your cock so badly,
Rock. Please, please make me cum again. Show him how I like it, Rock.
Show him how a real man fucks me. Please, Rock? Pleeease?"
Rock looked over at me and shook his head slowly.
"Man, did you hear that? If my woman talked about me that way, I don't
know what I'd do! How do you put up with this little bimbo, Sport?"
Rock and the other men chuckled as I stood there in my robe, watching
my wife beg him to fuck her. I was frozen in place, paralyzed with
anger and humiliation.
Rock looked back at Sarah. She was already fingering her nipples,
pulling and twisting them into hard, pink buttons. He watched her for a
while, then gave her his answer.
"You know, Barbie, it's been a long night and I'm pretty wasted. I
think I'll take a rain-check. But I'm sure you can count on this fine
group of gentlemen to give you what you want. What do you say, guys?"
A low murmur ran through the crowd, followed by the cheers of one
volunteer after another. Sarah looked stunned.
"No, Rock. Please. I want you! There are so many of them! They might
hurt Barbie! I want you to fuck me, not them! Don't give me to them,
Rock! Please don't! I want you - you, Rock!"
Rock's smile vanished and his stare turned icy.
"Stop whining, you little cunt. You're being rude! Go over there,
give them a good look at your new tits, and tell them what you need.
Now!"
She turned and started toward them without a word, pulling the brief
top over her head on the way. Her slim body trembled as she walked. She
stared at the ground, biting her lower lip, as a single large tear
raced down her cheek.
They circled her like a pack of jackals waiting for the first to
pounce. She shook off her disappointment and fear in an instant, held
her head high, thrust her breasts toward them, and allowed Barbie to
take over. Barbie smiled obscenely, cupping her breasts with both hands
as she teased them with her best Barbie Bimbo voice.
"Hi, guys. I'm Barbie, and I'm ready for a big, thick cock."
A few of the closest men pawed her breasts just before the rest closed
in and dragged her to the ground. She disappeared into the growing herd
of animals as each brawny thug fought for his share before the others
consumed her. Stacey kept the camera going as Rock and Betty doubled
over in hysterics. They were killing her, and Rock was enjoying it. His
deep laugh assaulted me like a relentless pile-driver. And, there was
that grin - that disgusting grin that had haunted me for much too long.
Deep in the oversized pocket of my robe, my hand closed around its
familiar cool, solid contours. Now driven by desperation, fueled with
the booze and drugs Rock had forced on me himself, I drew the 9-mm,
pointed it at Rock, and fired.
The impact of the bullet sent him spinning. He fell to the ground,
clutching his right arm and cursing as the sleeve of his shirt turned
wet with crimson. Betty screamed and ran to him, frantically trying to
stop the bleeding. I aimed again carefully, this time placing the sight
dead center on his chest. A sudden warmth rushed over me as I felt the
pressure of the trigger against my finger for the second time.
The gun jolted upward, but there was no sound. A strong, black arm
circled my neck. The gun was in Shayla's other hand, now forcing the
barrel tightly against my ear. Her arm tightened around my neck,
lifting me until I couldn't breathe.
Rock was furious. He shoved Betty away and started toward me, wincing
as he clamped his hand over the wound.
"He shot me! The mother-fucker shot me! You think this is bad, you
fucking wimp? I've taken bullets in places that make this look like a
scratch!"
He wrenched the gun out of Shayla's hand and jammed the barrel against
my mouth.
"Suck it, wimp - unless you want me to slide this little beauty up
Barbie's cunt and pump her full of the last load she'll ever remember."
I opened my mouth. It had an odd metallic taste mixed with the residue
of burnt powder. He forced the pistol deeper. Searing pain raced
through my jaw as the nose of the barrel broke a jagged chip from of
one of my front teeth.
"You fucked up, Sport - big time. You couldn't wait one more night,
could you? You had to be a hero. I was ready to walk away, to let you
and the wife go back to your pathetic little lives. I even broke her in
a little for you, not to mention the new tits. You're out of your
league, Sport - a pussy in a man's world. No wonder she came like a
whore when I fucked her."
He nodded at Shayla to release me. Keeping two inches of the 9-mm
buried in my mouth, he backed me to the edge of the ditch. In the
distance, Sarah and the mob were silent as they watched Rock take his
revenge. Sarah, now Barbie, was expressionless, her eyes staring
vacantly into the curtain of rain between us that washed the remaining
mud from her exquisite body.
"I'm gonna enjoy this. Bye, Sport."
I felt the gun move in my mouth just before the explosion of pain and
light filled my head. Then, as in a dream, I was falling, away from the
sounds around me, away from Sarah's unfamiliar eyes, away from Rock's
hideous grin - to a place deeper and darker than Rock could ever have
taken me.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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