I couldn’t believe my good fortune. First I get lost in the mountains, and then I’m pulled over by the most inscrutable cop, like ever….and now here I am, happy little slut, handcuffed to a four-poster bed, about to get a very serious itch scratched.
And no ticket in sight.
As they said back in the day? Far out, man!
As far as I was concerned, this was the ultimate barter. A win-win, as that stupid commercial touted.
I wasn’t accustomed to getting fucked while laying on my belly, but, whatever. I could roll with it. Well, really I couldn’t roll, tied down as I was! I am a pretty adaptable slut. And if he was thinking to frighten me with some anal?
He had the wrong girl.
Inside I was giggling, but outside? I was still silent. The grin was plastered firmly on my mouth, I really could not wipe that sucker off, but I kept my face hidden, easy to do laying here like this. He was off moving around the room and I had no idea what he was doing.
Okay, I was hoping that he was getting naked, getting ready to plow me good, and “teach me a lesson”. Those are the best sort of ‘teachable moments’ don’t you think?
I’m not sure how long I lay there, relaxing. I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt something tickling along my shoulder. I raised my head, and turned to look, but the cop slid something over my head. A pillowcase maybe. I felt his hand on my face through the bag, touching me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed a gag into my mouth. Right over the bag. The gag secured the bag over my head, and the ball in my mouth kept me quiet. I hated that.
Again I felt the tickle on my shoulder, but this time it trailed down my spine, making me wince and twist and try to get away. No way. No way was a cop tickling me.
But he was.
And I laughed, and cried, choking around that frigging ball in my mouth, and squirmed. It was futile I know, but I couldn’t help trying to get away from whatever he was using to torture me.
Don’t believe tickling is torture? You can’t get away. You can’t make them stop. You can’t stop laughing. And you can’t get away. I know, I said that already. And I will keep on saying it. You can’t fucking get away and you’re twitching, and screeching, and you can’t protect yourself…I couldn’t even beg him to stop.
Oh, I tried. But, while my head was yelling “STOP YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE JERK” what came out was “aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr, ” which made him laugh. So, I cried.
I was choking a bit, the tears and snot had no place to go and it’s so hard to swallow with a gag in your mouth. I was limp, exhausted. I hurt from laughing, and my nerve endings were sizzling.
And then, it ended. It just simply stopped. I was tense, expecting it to start again, but …nothing happened. I strained my ears, trying to hear over the pounding of my heart, the snurking snuffles as I tried to breathe.
There was nothing but silence in the room. Or the bag muffled his movements, perhaps. All I knew was that there was a respite of the torment. How long had he been at this? It felt like hours. I shivered a bit as the sweat cooled on my flesh.
The first swat on my ass caught me by surprise. I went from chilly to boiling pretty damn quickly. My buttcheek was throbbing, and you know he hit the exact same spot again. I tried to protest.
What I said was “Hey you fucker…stop that fucking shit right now! I protest! I want a lawyer!”
What came out was “Hrrrrrrr ssssskkkkkrrrr”
Yeah, my point was not being taken. His, however, was coming across loud and clear. He walloped my ass over and over with whatever it was that he had in his hand.
And then he stopped.
I was crying once more, the incredible pain in my ass, the burn and fry of my tender cheeks after the stimulation of the tickle torture made me all kinds of weepy, once my mad wore off.
A sharp, thin precise pain pronounced that he was not done, not by a long shot. This one I knew; it was a cane or something very much like one. I’d been caned before and I absolutely hated it. The fine line of stingy pain, the sharp and shocking slap of it against already tenderized flesh was almost more than I could bear.
Not that I had any choice, mind you. I was spread out like a feast. A spanking banquet. He struck my thighs, my calves, even the bottoms of my tender little feet. He hit my shoulders, the backs of my arms. I felt every single welt form, pull, stretch. It seemed I didn’t have enough loose skin left to form any more welts, and still he slapped at me.
I did what any self-respecting slut would do. I cried. I wailed. I begged. Okay it’s likely it sounded more like a cat being skinned than begging, but in my head it was loud and clear.
And I still wanted a lawyer. Or I did, right up until he slid three of those long, fine fingers into my pussy. He finger-fucked me fast, hard and deep, and being on my belly, he rubbed that special spot just right.
Suddenly the pain and pleasure exploded together, and I was in the middle of a giant orgasm without knowing how I’d gotten there so fast.
But he didn’t stop with one orgasm. This became yet another torture device. He fucked me while I came, despite my rigid muscles inside, and out. He kept up the stroking, pushing me right through another cum, and I felt the squirting gush from me. I lost track of how many times I came, really.
I think I must have passed out, between the pleasure and pain.
When I woke, I was on my back, all of my undersides throbbing. The bag was off my head, though my arms and legs were still spread wide.
My hair was sweaty and matted around my face, and I blinked several times trying to clear my tear-clogged eyes. Three guys were looking at me. I blinked again.
I shook my head, but there really were three guys there.
I recognized the statey who had brought me here by his eyes. They could have been triplets, these three. Almost the same height, the same haircut, even the same generous sized cocks. But the eyes were different, though they all radiated hunger.
“Nice tits.” Now he notices my knockers? I’d waited forever to hear something about my great rack from this guy! Geese. I could see the hunger on his face. It was obvious that beating me had racked him up. I wondered if each of them had had a turn in my torments. I certainly had paid a heavy price for my moving violation.
He looked at me, his hand stroking his cock. The other two were equally serious faced. Also stroking their cocks.
I’d like to tell you I was scared. I’d like to tell you I got all lady-like and begged for mercy.
But I told you at the beginning…I am a slut. And this? This was an ultimate fantasy come true. I watched them come towards me on the bed, moving almost as one.
They were about to commit some ‘moving violations’ of their own…and I could hardly wait!