1 comments/ 53045 views/ 2 favorites Her Defilement By: TheOrchid “You just never never know.....” “You just never never know.....” “You just never never know.....” The words kept repeating through the foggy haze of her waking up mind. Her body was thrummed with vibration. Motion. She was in a car hooded and hogtied. And she was balled up in some sort of gunney sack. How long, she wondered. How long had they been driving? Her bicep hurt where the needle had without care, been punctured into flesh and something, something burning had been delivered into her that had nearly immediately stopped her surprised wails and flailing. She had already been knocked down, a knee wedged in her back, just a glimpse of faces covered in those nearly see through distorted clown masks you normally saw in some late night horror movie. Clowns. She hated them. Her body hurt, she felt like she had ran a marathon with someone using a cattle prod to shock her into going everytime she might have fallen or given up. Her head hurt. She was dizzy. She wanted water. God, she was so thirsty! Her tongue felt swollen, dry and gave no relief to drying lips. She could not move, not a wiggle and not a squirm, period. She felt them flanking her, bodies on each side. Whose bodies? And was this, was this....real? Was it Andrew? Would he let her know? “Sometimes even our darkest fantasies come true whether we really want them to or not.” His words. They moved in slow hazy precision through muddled mind. Pictures began forming of every little secret fantasy she had ever whispered to him. Gang rape. Knives. Animals. Kidnapping. Use of her in ways she had never shared with another living soul. Things you just did not talk about, but things that when she thought about them never failed to make her cunt pulse and her heart race. So many things. Was this it? A single tear slid from the corner on eye. She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t tell and all she could do is wait and see. ************ It was nothing short of hours that seemed to pass before the nearly sickening steady motion of the car beneath her tired body drew to a stop. There were sounds around her as car doors opened, the distinct crunch of boots grinding into gravelled ground. Without much regard to how they grabbed or where, strong fingers sank into her at the waist and drug her without preamble down the seat until she was dropped much like a sack of Idaho's onto the ground. She heard her whimper and what she thought was a stifled titter of amusement. Assholes!! Fuck This. Whoever they were. Even if it Was Andrew, fuck this! Fuck THEM. She would not give anyone the satisfaction of hearing her react again. God damn him anyways. Where was he!? Then, what if..what if this wasn't Andrew's doing? What if...this were..real? No time to properly wonder at her sudden misfortune, she was being........dragged. The heavy sack she was balled and stuffed into was bumping and grating over pebbles and sticks, she could feel them bite and prod, bit her lip to keep from crying out as she felt the immediate bruising of ribs and legs over larger rocks. Keep her head lifted became a nightmare of concentration. She was certain she'd end up with a concussion. Finally she was being drawn over an entryway onto smooth flooring. No voices, just low murmuring sounds and the closer loudness of bootfalls near her body. Tears seeped unintentionally from the corners of her eyes once more. She hurt. She hurt so bad. It wasn't supposed to be like...this. So real. She was hoisted again and dumped onto something cold and flat. A table maybe? And then there was nothing. She was left she thought. Just left there to ache and snuffle breaths in and out on this table in their created darkness. Left to think about what was next. What would be done. Pain. There would be no pleasure in this. Surely not if...if it wasn't Andrew. What were they going to do? How would she withstand it? She had only ever been with Andrew in the last three years. He had never even considered sharing her, not even a touch. He was that possessive. He loved her. She fought a sob, felt it burn and ache in her throat, talked it away silently. It couldn't go on forever. Surely not. And every moment lived, was another closer to it being over. So she thought. It was just as she was finding comfort in a numbing silence that she felt a gentle pressure and heard the distinct sound of a zipper being drawn around her. Air flooding in around sweat dampened body. She moaned. She wasn't quite sure it was even herself, but she thought it must have been. Hands worked her legs from their cramped bend and she was certain it was her gasping as they met the ice cold of the table beneath her. The hands stilled and applied pressure just to the tops of her knees. A subtle warning perhaps. To mind. Another zipper taken, this one on the hood right next to her left ear. So close it made her tremble and then a voice. Cool, feminine, casual. "Be a good girl and you might leave with your life when we're done." WE. She wanted to beg right then, but her tongue was swollen and dry from a thirst that was on the verge of making her mad, so she just..nodded. Very slowly. "Get her undressed, scrub the filth down and notify me when she's ready" Male. Powerful. Not Andrew. That's all that mattered now. It wasn't Andrew. Check back soon for Part. 2 Her Defilement Ch. 02 She lay there somewhat frozen as she listened to the heavy boot falls move across the floor. Hard flooring. No carpeting. It echoed slightly. A clinic maybe. Somewhat coherent thoughts amid a moment of rationale until the door clicked shut behind the man and those hands were back upon her and that cool causal voice speaking around her. "You are a pretty piece I'll give you that but.." A pause and a sarcastic cluck of tongue to teeth. "I am a rather lazy bitch and you are wearing more than I am in the mood to take my time with so.." The tip of a blade at her throat. Sharp. Unmistakable. How many times had she felt such at Andrew's hand and grown whorishly wet between her legs. Even now.. Fuck. Was she so trained to respond? Would she wet for..for anyone? But unmistakable was the faint trickle of honey like moisture. The blade was pressed and she gasped to the tiny split of her flesh, searing sting, without thought her body jerked and she moaned in true fear against the leather of the hood still snug around her head. "Don't you fucking move filth. Pretty piece. Do you know what my favorite thing in the whole world is, do you fuckhole?" The voice right against the unzipped slit over her ear. She'd never found herself so absolutely terrified of a woman's voice before. "To make pretty things not...." A flick of the blade, twisted, picking up the fabric of her thin tee. The distinct sound of it tearing flooded her with dread. Andrew's taunts about her vanity coming to haunt her. Though she knew, she knew he loved how she looked. He often dressed her himself. Critiqued every sweep of makeup that enhanced the natural prettiness of her face. "...so" The blade swept up and this time she whimpered to the nick of blade tip into the curve of her right breast as her bra was torn in two. Marred. She would rather leave her dead than made grotesque. Used. Humiliated. Disfigured. "pretty" The word was hissed into her ear as the blade was fished into her running shorts. She lay so still. She swallowed every sob that ached in her throat. She cursed herself for every tiny trickle of wet that she could fill puddling in betraying walls. Andrew's cunt was readying, even if she herself were wishing to find escape into the depths of her mind. "Ohhhhhhhhhh" Burst from her mouth as the blade was laid flat against the smooth folds of her cunt. She'd waxed just last night. Andrew was very specific about her routine. She was smooth as a baby's bottom and exposed now. Clothes jerked away from her by one hand. Cunt held captive in the cold steel grip of that blade. The woman chuckled and for a moment after she'd been stripped of the tattered clothing, there was no sound. She knew she was been inspected. Every perfection, every flaw catalogued. She was nothing but what she was called. Not to them. Filth. A piece. Something to be used and discarded. It made her stomach roil. And then the woman was speaking around her, nails drawn over her thighs, over her cunt so very lightly as the blade lifted away, laid to rest on the quiver of her belly. A pinch to nipple nearly brought her up off the table. They were so sensitive. Very little could set her off. The extreme could make her ill. "Do you know how many ways you are going to get fucked? Used? Marked?" There was a smile in those words and they came as the voice moved away and she could hear the sound of water running. Clatter of metal to a tray. "Do you realize that even your cleansing now is going to violate you in ways you only nightmare over when you're all tucked in sweet and cozy in that big feather bed." She froze. They had been in her home. Watched her? How long? Did they know about Andrew? Did they know....what....she was? Those words lifted cold gooseflesh on the entire length of her body and she shivered violently. "But a clean pussy is a must. Filth like you need to be cleaned and cleaned spotlessly. I know your type whoregirl. Begging for cock. Begging for cum in your filthy hole. Humping, jerking, screaming pleaaaaaaaaase. You LIVE to be used, hole. You WANT THIS." Taunting. And god damn, oh god damn. It made her even more wet. What was wrong with her? Please just let me wake up!!!!! The words screamed through her mind. But she did not even try to move, try to escape. She knew. She knew there was none. She knew well enough from the scenes Andrew created that this, this was something that had been planned over months of time. Real or the epitome of Andrew's demented mindfucks. There was no escaping this. None. There was the familiar sound of a trolley being rolled over the floor near to the table. The cold having dissipated beneath her body, but surrounding her still. Eating into the core warmth of her. Cold or fear. She didn't know which was riding higher inside. Her teeth chattered loud enough to be heard and this amused the woman to no end. "Now this is going to hurt" Sotto voice. "Be a good girl and I won't leave you bleeding..........yet." Check Back Soon for Pt. 3 Her Defilement Ch. 03 Her whimpers were raw and low, drowned out by the sound of the table being adjusted. She felt the lowest half drop away and her dangling legs were lifted one at a time and her feet slid into stirrups, locked into place. Spread. Her cunt open. Wide open to every pair of eyes that might look down. Were there others? Others watching this debasement. Watching her body flex and strain. Were they staring into the warm pink of her and seeing what she felt? Wet. "Oh lookie here, looks like someone is having a good time. Who would have thought uhn?" The woman crooned the words and there was a quick rending of paper and a sudden bright cold slathered down the slit of her pussy. She gasped loudly and her hips bucked upward, her arms flying up in the air, clawing, as the woman clucked disapprovingly. "Now don't make me have to buckle you down so early in the night, chere. We are just...getting started. You'll find hand rails if you reach down. Use them." Her voice dropped. Smooth iced words hissed between her legs. "Flail like a wet cat again and I'll make you wish you didn't have arms to move." The threat was more than enough. She reached down and grasped her fingers tightly around the cool metal hand railings at the sides of the table. It was not long before that slathering cold wet was replaced by the pinch of well manicure nails splaying her wide open. She was rewarded with a cruel soft laugh as she winced visibly to the burn that those nails bit into tender folds. A sudden slide of what felt huge into her urethra had her wailing miserable as she clung to the hand railings. The raw burn of the tubing sliding in that tiny hole familiar. Twice he'd done it to her. Twice she had suffered it. Out of love. Out of a need to serve. Out of a need to please. Him. But this. God fuckkkking damn, it hurrrrrrrrrt. "Oh dear, I suppose I should have said take a deep breath and relax it out. Tsk." She hated this bitch. She hated her. One way or the other this no hearted monster would pay before she was done. "Ohhhhhhhnnnnnnnngggggggg" The groan was hers. The tubing cruelly tugged to make sure it had seated properly into her bladder. "First step in the cleansing process. Fill and empty the bladder. We don't want any filthy whorepiss staining our clothing later." She sounded down right fucking cheery now. "You know you have a very pretty cunt for filth. They'll take care of that though." They. How many. How many were going to shame her on this night. Take what she did not. DID NOT want to give. She felt the liquid gushing into her. Something connected to the catheter was filling her bladder at a slow steady pace. She could feel the sensation. That first fluttery feeling of needing to urinate. But soon it was past that. It was that full aching do it now or else you are going to piss yourself right where you are. Her tummy bloated. She snuffled breaths through the zippered mouth hole and fought a sob. She'd die before she cried out again. A hand slid over her burgeoning belly taunted. "So sweet, it looks as if your carrying child. You might have looked so lovely in such a state." Might have. "Now you just hang on to all that liquid a few mmm? I've plugged the catheter. You won't be getting it out even if you tried anyways" Laughter, she was truly enjoying this. A rustle of plastic, a snap of gloves and she felt the first familiar slide of a speculum against her vagina. She froze. Literally froze. "Relax, relax, it won't hurt a bit" Those words long ago murmured at her first trip to a gyno. Age 14. She could still recall staring up into the room lights, her mother grasping her hand as she let her knees give and spread open wide and the pleased exclamation of the doctor. She recalled vividly her tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. It had hurt. Another push and it was sliding in. Cold. Covered in gel. Her thighs quivered and quivered to each ratcheting noise of the dial being increased. She was being opened. "That's right, yawwwwwwwwwn for me. Look at that. Pink, such a deep pretty pink. Sure it looks clean. But who knows whats hiding in all those deep velvety folds filth. So clean we must." Please. She said it soundlessly. Her throat was burning. She was so thirsty and yet. She ached with the fullness of bladder. She lost herself for a few moments in the vividness of imagination, taken away to Cadhill's where every other Sunday she met Andrew and he let her indulge in those huge ice cream floats. Oh how she wanted one right now. Or water. Just a sip of water. Water. Just warmed enough not to send her into shock. And she SCREAMED. From some sort of little spigot it was being flushed into her spread walls, she could feel it in her tummy it seemed. Filling her, hitting everywhere and spilling back out again. "OH do. Oh doooo scream filth. Then we are assured that you are truly getting the idea of what CLEAN really means. Don't you feel...refreshed?" The water just stopped. She could still feeling it trickling out of herself, heard it splashing down. Onto the floor? Into a bag? She was moaning and it was unstoppable. Another tug of the catheter and press of hand down against her belly. She shuddered and felt icey hot race through her body. In the mask her face, sheened with persperation contorted. Tears squeezed out of tightly shut eyes. Something was done and then she felt a weight to the tubing, hanging downward and she could not stop her bladder from releasing anymore than she could not breathe. She spilled and spilled and nearly died from the ecstasy of that relief. She moaned and arched at the chest, heaving breasts jutted, straining as if to some invisible hand. "Oh don't get to happy precious" A hissing promise of things to come laced those words just as the tubing was JERKED from her and she felt it rake down out of that tiny swollen hole. She screamed again. She screamed curses. For God. For Andrew and for a moment, a glorious moment, the world blackened out for what would be the first of many times in the night to come. Pt. 4 Coming Soon