Raped | Tamara 5 | penis gag bdsm stories

Tamara struggled up from the merciful blackness of sleep and, rolling painfully over on to her back, tried to sit upright. With her hands cuffed behind, of course, it was difficult. Her body, front and back, from neck to thighs throbbed with pain and she whimpered as she remembered the terrible thrashing Madam had given her. With deep groan, she finally managed to sit up and push her feet out in front of her, leaning back against the metal-framed backboard of the tiny cot on which she was lying, trying desperately to focus her swimming senses. Light filtered in through the barred grille of the heavy wooden door, partially illuminating the tiny cell-like little room in which she was imprisoned.

She looked around. Apart from the two beds, there was a shelf holding a washbowl and several boxes. Over in one corner, there was a bucket. >From the stench, the bucket’s purpose was fairly obvious and she grimaced at the thought. Passing her wastes in that would be embarrassing, to say the least.

There was no sign of Aimee, though she dimly remembered her friend being chained to the bed opposite at sometime during the night.

Tamara pulled experimentally at the handcuffs. They were locked tight and obdurate, her wrists welded immovably together. A broad leather belt was tight around her waist and, from the stuffed feeling in both her vagina and bottom hole, the thin crotch-strap running tightly between her legs quite obviously held fast two large-sized unnatural intruders. Despite the fact that she’d had nothing to eat since the boat, both her stomach and bladder felt uncomfortably full and she desperately wanted to use the bucket. She gave a groan, realising that she would be unable to do so until someone released the tight-fitting crotch belt.

She shook her head to clear her vision and groaned anew when the motion threatened to lift it from her shoulders. The door groaned inwards and the tiny cell was suddenly flooded with light from the passageway outside.

„Ok, big tits,“ said a cheery voice. She looked up and saw the black youth, Jason, grinning at her from the open doorway. His boots and jodhpurs had gone and he was dressed merely in a brief, brief loincloth just about containing his large penis and heavy testicles. „Time for play,“ he grinned. „C’mon! Let’s go!“

„Please!“ Tamara gasped. „I need to, er ... !“ Desperately, she looked across at the bucket.

Jason’s grin widened. „What is it you need, slave? Tell me plainly and don’t forget your manners!“

Tamara’s face was scarlet. This was obviously part of the programme, designed to impress her new status upon her. Every morning, probably, she would have to plead with them to be able to relieve herself. The pains in her stomach and bladder increased, making up her mind for her. She had no alternative. „Please, sir,“ she begged, „please, I need to go to the toilet!“

„Oh, so that’s it? Well, what do you want, a piss or a shit? You’ll have to be precise, girl!“

Tamara’s eyes widened and, for a moment, she almost rebelled. She couldn’t, just couldn’t. Her gaze flicked to the deadly quirt hanging from the boy’s wrist and the moment passed. Her shoulders shook. It was no use. She had to comply. She just had to. „Er, both, sir, please!“ she whispered.

„A piss and a shit, is that right?

„Yes sir.“

Well then, say so, slave! You can’t expect me to be a mind reader.“

There was no help for it. Jason intended to have his pound of flesh. „Please, sir. May I use the bucket? I need a piss and a shit.“ The words were whispered, Tamara’s face the colour of a pillar-box. She looked as if she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

By now, Jason was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Lithely, he strode to the corner where the bucket stood. „Very well, slave“ he smirked, „come over here!“

Painfully, her head still swimming, Tamara stood up and waddled over to him, standing in front of him submissively as he released the belt. A gasp of relief left her mouth as the belt and crotch strap came off, the dildos sliding out wetly with a disgusting squelch. She couldn’t wait, her need was urgent. The collar and chain were heavy on her throat as she squatted over the bucket and emptied herself, her embarrassment total as, just as she finished, a long, wet fart escaped her twitching bottom hole.

„Kneel down with your head on the floor!“ grinned Jason as she stood up. „Legs open wide!

Come on! Hurry up!“ He flicked the quirt so that it snapped painfully at her hip, provoking a little squeal from the helpless girl.

No thought of disobeying even entering her mind, Tamara dropped to her knees and, bending over, put her forehead to the floor. The position was quite difficult to achieve with her wrists handcuffed behind and briefly she wondered if she would be able to rise without assistance.

Painfully, she shuffled her knees wide apart.

„Good,“ said Jason.

Tamara heard water running and felt Jason washing her private parts. He was very thorough and, once again, her humiliation was complete.

Then he was finished and she felt herself picked up like a sack of meal. The walls of the cell spun round and round as, dumped face down over one of Jason’s shoulders, she was carried out of the cellar into the stone-flagged passageway leading to the stairs. Instead of heading for the stairs, though, Jason turned the other way into a corridor lined with heavy, what could only be, cell doors.

Three, maybe four, doors down, they stopped for a moment while the young Negro fiddled with a large bunch of keys. Then that door, too, crashed open and she was carried inside.

Unceremoniously, Jason dumped her on the floor, where she lay gasping and winded. She looked around and she suppressed a frightened scream. They were back in the torture cellar.

There was movement and a muffled groan from her left and she looked around in alarm. Stark naked, Aimee sat astride the vaulting horse, the top of which was set with close-set spikes, a bit like a Fakir’s bed. The red head was silent, tightly gagged and sitting bolt upright. Her arms were drawn upwards and back, stretched taut by a rope running from her wrists to a stanchion in the wall behind her. From a similar fixing point to the front, thin cords ran to her stretched nipples, so that she could move neither back or forward. From the strained look on her face and the runnels of sweat on her body, Tamara could tell she was in some considerable discomfort. Aimee’s tear-filled eyes were wide and staring, but with a horrifying blankness which suggested that, perhaps for the moment at least, she was mercifully not fully aware of her surroundings.

„My God, what are you doing to her?“ Tamara croaked painfully. „Are you mad? You’ll kill her.“

„I should be quiet if I were you, unless you want to take her place!“ said Jason shortly.

Dispassionately, he raised the quirt and brought it down hard across her flank.

„Eyaaaaaaaaah!“ screamed Tamara.

„You forgot your manners again, didn’t you?“ he growled. „For the last time, you address me as Sir or Master! I’ve got a good mind to report you to Madame. That’ll earn you twelve of the best where you least want it.“

Tamara was suddenly terrified. Twelve strokes from Madame and her rattan cane was something she definitely did not want to happen. „I’m sorry, Master,“ she sobbed. „Please, don’t report me to Madame. I really am sorry, Master.“

Jason grinned again and reached down to fondle Tamara’s breast.

Tamara breathed hard, trying hard not to anger the boy even more, even to the point of thrusting out her chest even further to facilitate his fondling. Terrified, she looked at the sadistic treatment being meted out to her friend. Aimee’s legs were spread cruelly wide, held by cords running from her ankles to ringbolts in the floor, well out to each side of the horse. The heads of the two ribbed phalluses in the centre of the horse stretching her two passages to the limit could be plainly seen.

From the low humming sound between her legs and the undulation of her crotch on the horse, it was fairly obvious that the twin phalluses were switched on. In this position, of course, each time she moved, Aimee’s open crotch was forced down on to the multitude of sharp spikes sticking up through the leather surface. Not that the spikes penetrated too far; perhaps a half an inch or so, not enough to cause dangerous wounds, but certainly enough to cause grave discomfort.

Jason chuckled at the look on Tamara’s face and Aimee’s head turned slightly. For a moment the blankness left her eyes and a pleading moan forced its way from behind the gag, even the movement of her head inflicting an increased strain on her already stretched nipples.

„That’s right, boo-full, shake your stuff for me!“ chuckled the young black. „Maybe I’ll give you a little more of what you want later on.“ He reached out a hand to twang the tightly stretched cords.

Aimee screamed pitifully from behind the gag, her whole body shaking. „Here’s an old friend come to see you,“ he said cheerfully.

The young Negro grinned and turned to look down at Tamara. „Come on, big-tits! Say hello to your friend!“

Tamara looked up at Aimee, but it was as if the red head had already retreated back into blankness, her unseeing eyes staring vacantly straight ahead once more.

Jason laughed again. „Whassamatter, big tits? he grinned. „Don’t you worry! I know it don’t look like it, but your little friend here is enjoyin’ herself. She just keeps cummin’ and cummin’ and cummin’. Can’t seem to stop.“

„What have you done to her?“ repeated Tamara hoarsely. „She looks drugged. Have you drugged her?“

Jason for some reason did not pick up on Tamara’s omission of the word sir. „Never you mind, big tits!“ he said. „If I were you, I’d worry about yourself. Don’t forget, you’ve got six more strokes of the cane coming. And that’s only for starters today.“ He grinned down at her unsympathetically. „Ok, come on! On your feet!“

Tamara tried but only got as far as her knees. Somehow, her legs just would not support her.

Unsympathetically Jason took her under the armpits and dragged her bodily across the floor to lay her on the rack. Tamara shivered as the roughened wood touched the skin of her back. With a

nasty chuckle, Jason removed her handcuffs and strapped her wrists to the rotating drum at the head of the apparatus. Efficiently, he secured her ankles and strapped a large ball-gag in her.

On the spike horse, Aimee was still grinding away on the spikes, a series of soft moans coming from behind her gag as her nipples took the strain and the sharp points ground deeper into her tortured flesh of her open crotch and thighs.

Deliberately, Jason began to turn the large spoked wheel, increasing the tension and stretching Tamara’s splayed body until she groaning from behind the gag, her stomach and breasts flattened as she was stretched out. He looked down at her for a moment, then gave the wheel another half turn under the pressure.

Tamara’s muffled shrieks and groans were now almost continuous. At full stretch, her eyes were almost popping out of her head. With a satisfied grunt, the young black locked the wheel and stood back to admire his work.

„Ok then,“ he chuckled, „let’s sample some of what you got.“

Tamara’s eyes rolled and she gurgled helplessly as Jason climbed on to the apparatus in between her wide-spread thighs and she felt the hard end of his large penis nudging her vagina. He exhibited no finesse, just ramming into her as she lay there, body mated firmly to rack. Helpless, she could do little more than gasp and pant under the assault while her rapist enjoyed himself, plunging himself enthusiastically again and again into the conveniently presented body in front him.

On and on went the rape, Tamara drifting in and out of lucidity as the incredible pain in her joints continued. Jason seemed to have almost inexhaustible stamina and for a while she thought she might even die.

Then the unthinkable began to happen. The pain began to recede under the onset of an all-too familiar and not unpleasant sensation beginning to seep into her lower belly and loins. Tamara’s groans began to take on another aspect.

She was confused. On the civilised level, she was ashamed and disgusted at her body’s reaction while, incredibly, actually beginning to savour the sensation.

The pounding at her crotch stopped suddenly and, as if from a long way away, Tamara became aware of a familiar female voice.

„All right, Jason! That’s enough for now. You can have her all to yourself later!“

Tamara heart was pounding and she gave a heartfelt groan of disappointment as the huge, fleshy prong was withdrawn from her sex channel. She had been so close to cumming. She opened her eyes and saw Madame, smiling as if in triumph.

The woman knew, of course. The smell of Tamara’s arousal was thick in the air.

„So, here we are again, Tamara.“ smiled the Amazon as Jason stood back.

„You really are a slut, aren’t you? Even on the rack a cock up your cunt turns you on.“

Tamara, gagged and drooling, could make no response, except to roll her eyes, gurgling helplessly as Madame lifted a small, multi-thonged whip.

„Time for the six strokes I promised,“ she said sweetly. „Right across those big tits of yours. Maybe in future you’ll remember your place.“

Tamara rolled her eyes again and shook her head as much as she could. Six more strokes from that across her breasts? Even the thought made her feel faint.

She tried to plead for mercy, but all that came out from behind the gag was a hoarse gurgle.

The Amazon smiled sweetly. „No nasty cane marks for you this time, sweetie,“ she cooed. „Six lashes with this will hurt of course, but they won’t damage those lovely big melons too much.“

Tamara moaned with terror but was unable to move a muscle.

Annaliese chuckled and, removing something from her pocket, moved closer.

Tamara felt the jab of a needle in her thigh, the sudden prick followed almost immediately by a peculiar but definite shift in her senses. For a moment the cellar seemed to sway about her and Madame Annaliese’s face swam mistily into view. Amazingly, she felt an unmistakable quickening of her previously pain-

dampened libido. Slowly her terror and discomfort receded as an intense, pleasurable sensation took hold of her stretched body. Helplessly, she felt her vagina moistening itself and an overpowering feeling of pure lust sweeping through her helpless body.

Slowly her eyes began to re-focus and she saw Annaliese standing in front of her running the strands of the vicious looking instrument through her fingers.

The Amazon was grinning broadly.

„Mmmmmmm!“ moaned Tamara, her hips beginning to thrust almost of their own accord.

„Ready then, sweetness?“ chuckled Annaliese, lifting the cat-o-nine tails.

Tamara stared at her in terror.

„I asked, ready then, sweetness?“ repeated the Amazon loudly.

„Mmm!“ moaned Tamara, shaking her head desperately.

Annaliese grinned. „I’ll take that as a yes,“ she chuckled.

Wssssssssssht! Wssssssssssht! Wssssssssssht! The first three strokes landed across Tamara’s flattened orbs in swift succession.

„Eyaaaaaaaaah! Eyaaaaaaaaah!“ screamed Tamara from behind her gag, a multitude of thin red lines now marking the previous creaminess of her breasts.

The pain was intense, yet the feeling of lust persisted; the mixture of pain and pleasure somehow intertwined. Her mind raced. ‚How could it be?’ Yet amazingly it was true. The unwanted, yet so all-consuming pleasure was being, dare she admit it, enhanced in some terrible way by the torture.

„Nnnnnnnnnnnng!“ She groaned, almost as if begging for the whip’s caress.

Wssssssssssht! The fourth stroke landed squarely across the flattened mounds and she screamed again, all the while her hips working frantically searching for anything, anything at all, to placate the raging beast within her loins.

Wssssssssssht!

„Eyaaaaaaaaaaah!“ The penultimate lash descended with even greater force, producing a scream of quite frightening intensity from the racked girl. Yet still her hips moved as, trembling with lust and fear, eyes squeezed tightly shut, she actually managed to thrust out her breasts a little more for the final stroke.

It didn’t come!

Instead a gentle finger parted her sex lips and slid easily inside, searching for the little pleasure nub, already engorged and rearing up from its sheath. Cunningly the finger caressed, until another joined it to gently pull and squeeze. Squeezing and caressing, caressing and squeezing, Madame Annaliese drove the pinioned girl onwards and upwards, ever upwards towards nirvana. Soft lips nuzzled at Tamara’s breasts, first one then the other, while the maddening fingers continued their work of bringing her to climax.

In a moment, the lips and fingers were gone, leaving her bereft in her splayed and stretched torment.

Wssssssssssht! The final stroke landed squarely on her open vagina and swollen clitoris with frightening force, the ends of the lashes cruelly punishing her pubic mound and lower stomach.

„Eyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!“ Tamara’s scream reverberated around the cellar as she finally went into a, monstrous, mind-blowing orgasm which seemed to go on and on forever. All things are finite, however, and within minutes she was down from her high, filled with terror once more at the thought of what future torments might be visited on her helpless body.

Tamara opened her eyes to see Madame Annaliese standing in front of her and her heart sank as she saw the Amazon had a blindfold in her hand. So now she was to be deprived of sight, as well as everything else. Swiftly the smiling dominatrix drew the blindfold across her captive’s eyes and tied it off at the back of her head. A few seconds later Tamara heard the door open and close and the sound of Madame’s footsteps fading away down the corridor before silence, stretching away into the minutes. The insidious concoction was by now racing through her veins; her helplessly

pouting vagina wetter and wetter, the puffy lips actually beginning to open and close of their own accord.

Over the next half-an-hour or so, people entered and left the cellar at regular intervals, each making use of her body exactly as they chose. It was impossible to tell who they were. At one point, she was convinced that the person fucking her was Jason; at another she was sure it was Madame who was tonguing her flooding vagina. Most of the time, though, it was impossible to tell.

Except that, once, she half thought it might be Matthew Ryan himself pistoning away between her legs.

Hours later, anonymous hands released her wrists and ankles and lifted her from the rack. Her legs would not support her and, with a groan, she fell limply to the floor. Whoever it was gave her no time to recover. First her ankles were strapped wide to a spreader bar, then there was the familiar squeak of a pulley and her feet once again began to rise skywards. She moaned pitifully, as her throbbing breasts were scraped painfully across the floor.

„Nnnng. Nnnnng,“ she gurgled helplessly, yet the bar continued on its way upwards until she was hanging upside down.

The thick, eight-inch dildo pushed forcefully into her vagina was ungreased, yet her pouting, wet passageway actually welcomed the invasion. With a moan of pleasure, she felt the large, imitation penis slide deep inside, her warm, wet flesh closing willingly around its bulk. She was turned around, her wrists and elbows lashed together and another equally large, greased shaft eased slowly into her back passage. Fingers groped between her thighs and the twin moles in her fore and aft passageways were switched on.

„Nnnnnnng!“ she gurgled as, almost immediately, the fierce throbbing inside her passageways began to urge her willy-nilly upwards along the path to climax. Once more came the welting hurt of the multi-stranded whip, striping her writhing body from breasts to thighs, shoulders to bottom; holding her approach to sexual fulfilment safely in check as she spun and jerked helplessly on the rope.

Amid the intensity of the inflicted pleasure/pain on her ravaged body, Tamara could hear the faint whirr of a camera as if her torment was being captured on film. Such was the power of the drug that even that thought increased her excitement at what was being done to her.

Inevitably, as her approach to impending climax was hampered by the power of the whip, the tempo increased and the whirring came closer and closer as the camera began to concentrate on her increasingly ravaged, rotating bottom, belly and thighs. Lovingly, almost sensuously, the lens caressed the bluish weals now covering the once milky skin.

Abruptly, the whipping stopped and her blindfold was removed. She blinked her eyes painfully at the sudden light. Right in front of her a rigid black hard-on approached her face. Automatically she opened her mouth and took the invading penis deep inside, sucking with the eagerness of a baby suckling at its mother’s breast.

Buried to the hilt in the hanging girl’s mouth, Jason began to suck and lick expertly at Tamara’s swollen clitoris, driving her drug-enhanced body inexorably towards its umpteenth climax of the day. Tamara’s sexual passage ached, her roped breasts hurt abominably and the rest of her welted, swinging body was smarting terribly from the slashing blows of the whip. Yet, the diabolical combination of the drug, the fleshy shaft in her mouth and the suckling lips and nibbling teeth on her labia and clitoris was already pushing her helplessly into a foaming crescendo of overwhelming sexual need. Her one thought as she sucked frenziedly at the thick penis in her mouth was that she wanted, no, needed desperately to cum.

Finally, straining in the grip of an almost maniacal, artificially induced sexual frenzy, the shaft in her mouth was withdrawn just before the first spurt of semen left it, facilitating, though she didn’t know it, a slow-motion shot of the jism flying through the air, straight into her open mouth.

Annaliese had done her work well. The shots were varied by different cameras to show the semen landing on the straining Tamara’s outstretched tongue, on her face and dripping down onto the floor. As the penis stopped spurting, it was thrust forward again and she gobbled it, sucking once more like a maniac as if crazy to draw more juice. She sucked and sucked, whimpering with pain-filled excitement; her drugged mind totally overcome by the incredible sensation of multiple, pain-filled orgasms as the flickering tongue at her loins continued to push her helplessly up the sexual spectrum.

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