10 comments/ 282023 views/ 50 favorites Zanny By: dr_mabeuse The night was thick, hot, and humid, the air filled with the menace of an impending thunderstorm as Zanny walked hurriedly down the dark and empty street. She knew she must be crazy to be out in this neighborhood at this time of night, dressed as she was, and yet this was the third night in a row that she’d been compelled by some unknown need to dress in her best clothes, her sexiest underthings, sheer stockings, her black pumps, and take a cab down to the center of this forlorn industrial wasteland where she would walk alone through these dangerous and deserted streets, wandering slowly, the sharp rap of her heels loud in the darkness. Eventually she would reach a boulevard or busy street where she would find another cab that would take her back up north to her flat, taking her safely away from this dismal and forlorn neighborhood as she gazed out the window filled with a strange mixture of relief and gnawing frustration. She was young, beautiful and desirable. Many people had told her so but she would have known it anyway. It was a fact that she never tired of noticing, and sometimes, walking past an unsuspected mirror, her own image surprised her anew, making her marvel at what a fine and handsome woman she’d become, long legged, full-breasted, with intelligent eyes and a sensual mouth. It was no wonder that men flocked to her and that she could afford to pick and choose. Men had become second nature to her, and while she enjoyed the attention she provoked, she had learned how to play the game long ago, how to use what she had to get what she wanted. But lately that hadn’t been enough. She’d grown bored with the people she knew, bored with relationships, with sex. It had all become so predictable, so unsatisfying. She did not want the marriage proposals she was offered. She did not want the tedium of romance, the tender, considerate sex, the avowals of love. She did not want the roses; she wanted something more direct, more physical. She wanted the thorns. She stopped on a street corner illuminated by a dim yellow streetlight that barely penetrated the humid air, leaving dark pools of shadow in the empty doorways and the rubbish in the street. Far away she could hear the hot whine of tires on asphalt, and somewhere far in the distance there was the sound of an ambulance or police car. A forlorn traffic light a block down changed from red to green, the color reflected in the dark windows of the shuttered and abandoned shops, but there were no cars to notice it. Far in the distance, out in the west, she saw a slash of heat lightening. A cat yowled in heat. Beneath her coat she wore a blue satin blouse, a bit too tight for everyday wear, and beneath that a good skirt. She had on her best underthings, sheer, sexy, and, despite the sticky heat, a garter belt and gray stockings. She stopped now, feeling herself in her clothes, the weight of her own breasts, the thick hunger in her vagina. When she turned her attention to her own body she realized that she felt terribly vulnerable and terribly sexy. It was a scary, edgy feeling she’d learned to savor. It made her feel peculiarly alive. She had never even bothered to create a conscious rationale for what she was doing. Since she had accidentally gotten off the subway at the wrong stop several weeks ago, she found that something about stalking these streets in the dark, dressed for sex, aroused her in a way that nothing else did these days. She didn’t examine the feelings, didn’t wonder at them. The dim corner of her mind that knew what brought her down here was not consulted; she simply didn’t want to know. She only knew that after her walk she would go home terribly stimulated and masturbate with the most obscene and degrading scenes going through her mind, and that she would have explosive orgasms, almost frightening in their intensity, like none she had ever experienced with a lover, that left her drained and exhausted and able to sleep at last. But then the hunger would be back again the next day. And she would be drawn back to these same, mean streets with their sense of immanent danger.. She knew that even now her fear had made her moist between her legs. Whenever she passed a particularly dark doorway or an alley, a place almost designed for rape, she would feel a delicious tingle in her stomach as she thought what if… Suddenly she heard a low laugh from directly ahead of her. A man’s laugh. Another, and she froze. She cast a nervous glance down the side street, but it was too dark to see anything for sure and she was afraid to stare. The shadows cut the street into bands of gray and deep black, and as she turned her head back she distinctly saw the glow of a cigarette in the darkness, only a few doors down and on the same side of the street. A thrill of real fear suddenly shot through her, knotting her stomach. In all her other walks she had never come across another soul down here, and she was shocked to discover that she was at a total loss now as to what she should do. She couldn’t run; that was out of the question. The thing to do was to look in control, look as if she knew what she was doing, and walk away. But she was paralyzed standing there, standing on the corner waiting for the light to change. Probably it’s nothing, she thought. It could be anyone out for a stroll. It might even be the police on patrol. She turned and walked away from the men, trying to make as little noise as she could. The came up behind her quietly. Too quietly to be anything else but trouble. The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle and she willed herself not to turn around, not to look. “Hey, baby!” she heard one of them say. There was a surliness, a challenge in the voice and she knew he was speaking to her. Terror surged through her body and made her want to cry out. She dared not turn around. Her adrenaline made the whole scene crystal clear: the shadows, the broken glass in the street, the trash in the gutter. She heard one of them laugh, not ten feet behind her. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. Suddenly one of them grabbed at her purse and pulled, spinning her around. Oh God, maybe they just want my purse! she thought in the instant before she saw them and a scream froze in her throat. They were two men, tall, lean, and both wearing ski masks. She had the impression of cruelly amused eyes, eyes which quickly swept her up and down. Stupidly, she heard herself say “No!” The men didn’t run. The one who held her purse looked at her and beneath the mask she could see a slow smile spread on his face. She realized that he was black. “Hey Doc,” he said, “What do you make of this?” The other man stepped over. He had been hunched over, ready to run, and now he straightened to his full height and looked down at her. He was bigger than the black guy, and looked extremely powerful. He snorted in contempt. “You must be lost, Lady.” he said. “You sure ain’t from around here.” He took the purse from the black man and said, “Now I suggest you get the fuck out of here before you get yourself killed.” But before she could turn and run, he changed his mind and grabbed her arm.. She could feel his enormous strength. “Wait a minute, baby.” he said, stepping close. The black man said to him. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” The white guy laughed. “Fuckin’-ay” he said. “Party time, huh Z?” “Why not, man?” “Yeah. Why the fuck not?” Before she could react the black man, with surprising quickness was behind her, and grabbed both her wrists, twisting her arms down behind her back. The white guy stood close to her and looked her up and down. “Oh yeah.” he said. “Oh yeah, this is one good looking piece of ass. All dressed up with no place to go.” Her arms pinned back behind her exaggerated the proud thrust of her breasts and strained the buttons in the tight blouse, and he brought his hands up slowly, running his hands over her chest, testing the weight and resilience of her tits, filling his hands with her warm flesh. ”Yeah” he whispered lewdly, “Yeah, that’s nice. This one’s a keeper.” His touch suddenly snapped Zanny out of her fog. She tried to scream, and to pull away from them, putting all her strength into it, twisting and writhing, but the hands held her wrists in an iron grip. She tried to kick the man in front of her but he just laughed and grabbed her ankle, lifting her other foot off the ground. “No!” she spit, trying to kick him with the other foot. “Bastard!” The man laughed again. They had her suspended between them, and the white guy took the opportunity to lift her foot even higher, spreading her legs so that he could look down beneath her skirt to her crotch and the sheer, thin panties she wore. . “Whoa yeah!” he exclaimed in appreciation. ”Thank you, Jesus!” he said with a laugh, bending his head back and addressing the sky. “Thank you, Jesus!” Z laughed with excitement and Doc jerked his head back to indicate the dark doorway behind him. Some sort of shuttered office building or warehouse. “In here!” he said Still holding her ankle he turned and kicked at the rotten boards that barricaded the doorway. The door itself had no glass and he soon battered a hole big enough for them to carry her inside, twisting and struggling. Zanny tried to scream, but she couldn’t get her breath. her throat seemed locked shut and all she could do was say “No! No!” through her clenched teeth. Somewhere in her mind Zanny remembered hearing that in a nightmare abduction like this you should never let yourself be taken inside any building or car, and she gave a tremendous heave of her body, trying with all of her strength to twist out of their grip. The men staggered off balance for a moment but she was no match for their strength. They just laughed. But when they got her inside to the dim interior where pale yellow light filtered in through the boarded windows, the man holding her hands seemed to loosen his grip enough so that she was able to pull his hand towards her face, and turning her head she sank her teeth into his flesh and bit down. “Agh! Motherfucker!” he screamed, dropping her other hand so that she fell to the floor. She kicked up at the second man and felt her foot hit his body, then twisted away onto her hands and knees and tried to scramble off. Someone grabbed her hair and pulled her head painfully up and back. Zanny saw stars before she felt the blow. Then slowly she felt her cheek start to burn and throb and she realized with a shock that they’d hit her. She heard a half-choked sob and realized that it was her own voice. Her head snapped the other way and again she saw bright splashes of light and tasted blood in her mouth. Then everything turned a throbbing red, the stars receded and she said “No! Don’t! Don’t!” They released her hair and she fell back on the grimy floor, trying to clear her head. She could just barely focus on the piece of cardboard beneath her, then the red throbbing increased and the whole world faded out. She could not have been unconscious very long, for when her senses cleared she was just as they had left her, holding herself up on her arms, staring at the cardboard. She passed her hand over her mouth. There was a little blood, She must have bitten the inside of her cheek. As her vision cleared she cautiously turned her head up and looked at the men. One of them—the one called Doc--was dressed in military fatigues and a field jacket. He had a black ski mask over his face. The other, the man she’d bitten, was black, wearing sweat pants and an Oakland Raiders jacket. Both of them were breathing hard from their exertions and their exposed skin was shiny with sweat. She apparently had not bitten the black guy as hard as she‘d thought, because she saw no blood. He was holding her purse in one hand, going through it with the other, throwing the things he found on the floor. Doc just looked at her. The black guy found her wallet and looked in it, then looked through her ID’s. “Uh-uh.” he said to Doc. “So she’s not a cop.” Doc said. He squatted down and looked at her. “What the fuck’s with you, bitch? What’re you doing down here? Hooking?” It took Zanny a moment to realize that he was talking to her, then she didn’t know what to say. “No…I… I got lost…” Doc squatted down, reached over and tilted her face up. His eyes were bright in his face as he looked at her clothes, the silky blouse, her skirt, her stockings. Behind him Z snorted and said “Twenty three bucks, man. That’s it.” “Some outfit you got on, Baby.” Doc said. “These your getting-lost clothes? You look like you were going to a party. A private party, huh?” Z laughed. Zanny felt the same warmth she always felt when men looked at her body, but raised to a dangerous, almost nauseating degree. She was aware that she was shaking. She felt as if her arms had no strength, as if she could not hold herself up. Doc reached out and grabbed her hair, tilted her head back until she was forced to meet his eyes. He looked at her carefully, looking past the punch-drunk fog and the obvious fear, trying to read her, trying to fathom what a good-looking girl like this was doing in this part of town, dressed as she was. She wasn’t a cop. She wasn’t a junkie. And didn’t look that stupid that she didn’t know where she was ands what she was doing. Slowly the look of animal excitement in his eyes faded as he saw in her the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal: her parted lips, her eyes, bright with excitement beneath the fear, the way she lay there, just waiting for his next move. Yeah. Now he knew what she was about. He’d seen this type before. But he’d never seen it so obviously displayed. He let go of her hair and laughed, then looked back at the black guy. “Yeah. She was looking for a party, man. I think she was looking for a nice, hot party. A nice hot party with two hot guys.” The black guy laughed in disbelief. “Shit! Well ain't she come to the right place?” “I would say she has, man. Most definitely!” He stood up and walked around towards her face, grabbed her hair in both hands and pulled her painfully to her knees, making her cry out. “On your knees, bitch!” he said coldly. “Let’s have us some fun!” Zanny looked up at him in horror. He held her up with one hand still tangled in her hair. She heard the sound of his zipper opening. “No.” she said. “Please. Just take my money. Please don’t do this.” “I suggest you shut the fuck up.” Doc said softly. “Just open your mouth and do it. Suck my cock, Baby. Come on.” She was still dizzy from the slaps. Doc stood in front or her, his hips cocked forward, shoving his crotch at her face, his zipper open. He kept hold of her hair as he took his hardening cock in the other hand and slapped it heavily against her lips. Zanny screwed her face closed, trying not to feel the warm piece of meat as he rubbed it over her lips and slapped it against her cheek, as if knocking at a door. He was already excited and oozing pre-cum and his cock left spots of wetness on her skin. “Come on,” he whispered urgently, “Come on, Bitch. Do it!” She tried to turn her face to the side but he suddenly yanked her hair with brutal strength, jerking her face back to his seeking cock. Tears of pain flooded her eyes and when she opened her mouth to cry out she felt the head of his prick slide across the inside of her lips. She instinctively opened her mouth and felt his prick slip inside. She moaned in protest as he rammed his meat into her mouth, but she knew enough to keep her teeth away from him. She raised her hands to his hips and grabbed on to his pants for balance, but the result was to bring his pants sliding down his legs, causing her to moan again. This wasn’t the first cock she’d had in her mouth; far from it. In fact she was proud of her cock-sucking skills and reserved them as a special treat for those mean who she especially wanted to favor. But she’d never been orally raped before, never had a prick shoved between her lips, never been used so selfishly before, and her mind was flooded with thoughts as if she were somewhere far away watching this happen to someone else. This is rape! she thought They’re raping me! This is what it feels like! And yet she couldn’t understand the feeling of fierce excitement that burned deep inside her, that flared more strongly when she felt this stranger’s burning need, felt the urgency of his brutal thrusts. “Yes, baby!” he said, “That’s it. Take it, Baby, take it!” Behind her she heard Z laugh excitedly. “Oh yeah! We gonna have ourselves a par-tay!” Doc was humping steadily into her mouth, pushing, then pulling out, and with each stroke she felt him growing, getting longer, thicker, and harder. She moaned again in protest and shame at being used like this, but he still held her by her hair, and she could not get away now. He rapidly unzipped his jacket and flung it open to give him a better view of her lips stretched around his pole, and he used her hair to pull her face in over his cock, then out and away in counter rhythm to his hip thrusts, forcing her lips to slide over his burgeoning shaft, pulling her off balance. She reached out for his legs to steady herself, taking hold of his naked thighs. His legs were rock-hard, the muscles tense as he fucked her face with a slow and savage urgency. Raising her eyes slightly, she could see his flat stomach, taut and quivering as he ground into her face. He was heavy and hot in her mouth, and his breath hissed through his teeth, punctuated every now and again with a groan of pleasure whenever she touched an especially sensitive spot. It was too much for her. The feel of his masculine hardness and muscle sent a wild irrational wave of excitement through her body. His strength, his need, overwhelmed her. He had no regard for her. She was nothing to him but a mouth, a place to shove his cock, to get his rocks off, and that knowledge and the feel of his desperate lust suddenly thrilled her. She squeezed his legs in her growing excitement, feeling his hardness, and her moans changed from sounds of protest to groans of desire. He felt good sliding between her lips and over her tongue, even his hands tangled in her hair, urging her head back and forth felt good. She sucked in breath through her nose on his outstroke, holding her breath as she fucked into the back of her throat and she fought down the urge to gag. In her excitement she grabbed onto his buttocks, felt them clench and release as he fucked her face, and found that this way she could pull him to her more easily, She knew how lewd she must look, on her knees, sucking him off like a common whore, but the image only made her hotter. She suddenly wanted to please him, wanted to be good for him, and she made no attempt to hide the fact. She began to use her tongue, to swirl it around the soft head of his cock when he pulled out, loving the feel of him, the musky male taste of his pre-cum as it leaked from his prick onto her tongue.. “Yeah, Baby! That’s it, Yeah, that’s it!” he murmured, his voice thick with sexual tension. “Now she’s got it.” he said to Z. “Bitch loves to suck cock, Z. Fucker’s into it now, man!” Her mouth was filled with his meat, and a mixture composed of her saliva and his secretions rolled down her lower lip to her chin. She swallowed to keep more of the juices from streaming down her face and heard him hiss with evil pleasure as he felt her throat contract around the head of his dick.. She felt Z moving behind her on his knees, and then he was working her skirt up around her hips, exposing her ass in her sheer silky panties, which she knew hid nothing from his eyes. He ran his hands over her ass and moaned. “Fuck! This bitch is something, man! You should check out this ass!” She squealed in surprise as he suddenly slapped her ass. His hands were at her panties, pulling them down, and there was nothing she could do about it but moan in shame, the sound muffled by the sudsy sound of Doc’s cock pumping into her mouth. Zanny: Performance Ch. 3 Zanny 3: The Performance She didn’t know how long she remained on the floor, her clothes twisted and torn, her body aching and bruised from the rape, her emotions slowly ebbing back from the dizzying heights of shameful ecstasy she’d encountered, totally unexpected and shocking in their intensity. Now she needed time. Time to recover from her ordeal, time to try and regain some composure, time to think of what she should do next. As long as she didn’t move her two assailants didn’t bother her., and that was enough for now. She only hoped that, having had their way with her, they’d just leave. Just get up and leave her here. But they showed no sign of leaving. Instead Doc and Z just sat there on the other side of the room on boxes and abandoned furniture, talking softly, laughing occasionally, smoking. Were they waiting for her to recover so they could fuck her again? Or were they just waiting for the rain to stop? She was slightly sore, her body covered with perspiration. The rain outside, falling with a steady drum on the roof of the abandoned warehouse, was doing nothing to reduce the intense heat or stifling humidity, and she could feel a rivulet of sweat running down her chest and between her bare breasts, just as she could feel Z’s semen dripping from her pussy and Doc’s discharge drying on her face and hair. Her immediate problem was not her fear, she realized, but how she could regain some shred of dignity after the mind-shattering orgasm she’d just experienced, caused by these strangers’ callous use of her body. For, despite the horror and brutality of her ordeal, she had orgasmed with a ferocity and depth like she’d never known before, and her overwhelming ecstasy had been impossible to deny or disguise. She had become a willing and eager participant in her own rape, writhing and screaming out her pleasure like a bitch in heat, urging them to fuck her harder and deeper, and even at the end, begging for their come like the lowest type of whore. There was no way now that she could face them with any sort of self respect, not after they’d seen this lewd display of slutty depravity on her part. She knew that her behavior had shocked them as well. She could hear it in the tone of their voices, the occasional chuckle. This was a lot more than they had bargained for when they pulled her off the street and carried her struggling and kicking into this abandoned building. No doubt they were prepared for a quick rape of a girl too good to pass up. They hadn’t expected to find a sexual tigress who took all they dished out and begged for more, who grew more aroused the more brutal they became, whose final screams of release raised the hairs on the backs on their necks. Their talking ended with a sudden burst of laughter. The two men slapped palms, stood up and stretched, and while the white guy—the one called Doc—spoke softly into his cell phone, the black guy came over to her, a shy smile on his face. “Hey.” he said, “how you doin’?” Zanny didn’t move, but she knew she wasn’t fooling him. He knelt down by her. “Here,” he said, holding out the bottle, “drink this.” She realized that there was no sense in playing any longer. And Z’s attitude had changed. The threat was gone. She raised herself up on one arm, took the bottle from him, and cautiously took a sip. It was wine, sweet and warm, the bottle half full. But at least it cleaned the taste of semen from her mouth. She thought of washing her mouth and spitting it out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She swallowed it. The alcohol and the sugar immediately warmed her body. She handed the bottle back to Z but he shook his head. “Keep it.” he said with a smile, handing her the cap. The wine cleared her head somewhat, and she took stock of her situation. Other than a little of the usual sexual soreness, she wasn’t in too bad a shape. The main thing that concerned her was the fantastic intensity of her orgasm. Even now her legs were still trembling and she didn’t know if she could stand. Worse than the physical symptoms, though, was her own shock at her behavior. She suddenly felt as if she didn’t know herself any more, as if there was another girl inside her, a stranger, and she was trying to figure out where this person had come from. She raised the bottle and took another drink. Doc suddenly came over, snapping his cell phone shut. “Hey, hey!” he said, taking the bottle from her “That’s enough! That’s enough for now. Don’t want you to get too high.” He held the bottle to the light and checked the level. He squatted down and looked at her. “I’m Doc,” he said. “and this is Z. What’s your name?” “Zanny.” she said. “It’s Suzanna, but they call me Zanny.” “Okay, Zanny.” he said. “You all right?” She nodded. “Hey, sorry about all that, you know? Hope we didn’t mess you up too much. Kind of got carried away, you know?” She nodded again, not knowing what else to do. “But you got to admit you were kind of asking for it, you know? Walking around here all dressed up like that, a hot looking bitch like yourself. Hell, Z here thought you was a working girl, you know?” She didn’t say anything for a while. What could she say? She had been asking for it. She knew she had been asking for it. And they’d given it to her. Doc seemed to have trouble with what he was going to say. Finally he gave a short laugh. “You are one fucking hot piece of ass, you know that Zanny? Ain’t that right, Z?” “Fuckin ay!” “Yeah I never seen a bitch come like that, Baby.” he said. “One hot piece of ass, no lie!” Zanny realized that he meant that as a compliment, and despite herself, she felt her cheeks color, but she didn’t know whether she was blushing from shame or from pride. Doc suddenly stood up. “Come on, Baby.” he said to her, extending her hand. “We got to go.” At this Zanny looked up at him fearfully. “Go where?” she asked. “Someplace clean and dry.” he said. “You don’t want to lay around in this funky dump till the cops come. Let’s go.” “I want to go home.” Zanny said. “Yeah, you will, baby, you will. We’ll take you home. But first we just want you to meet some people. You’re all right, Zanny. We like you. We just want to show you around. Make you introductions, you know? Come on, it’s not far. Then we’ll get you home.” She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly as she let them help her to her feet. She checked herself out. Aside from losing her knickers and the buttons from her blouse, her clothes were not in bad shape, just all in disarray, and they waited while she did her best to arrange them. She would have to hold her blouse closed with her hands though. “I can’t go anywhere like this.” she said. “We’ll take care of that.” Doc said. “That ain’t nothing. We’ll get you all set up, Baby.” They gave her purse back, Z even putting her money back in her wallet, then they walked out into the night. The rain had stopped, though thunder still rumbled in the distance, and the air still had a tense, expectant feel as they guided her along the wet and misty streets. Zanny knew something was wrong with her. She should have been frightened, she should have been protesting, but she wasn’t. She didn’t seem to care. If anything, her present circumstance seemed almost laughable, walking along with her two rapists, the feel of sex still warm between her legs. She felt detached, above it all. and instead of worrying about where they were going, she found herself fascinated by the shadowy play of light on the misty street, the grays and blacks in the shadows, the pale yellow of the street lamps. It was a scene of strange and mysterious beauty and she couldn’t understand how she had never noticed it before. She realized then that the wine had probably been drugged. She had to speak slowly in order to get her words out. “What was in that wine?” she asked. “You don’t worry.” Z said. “Just something to relax you.” Doc said. “It won’t hurt you.” She wanted to laugh, it seemed so absurd. And the fact was, she felt very good. The night seemed magical, her two assailants like perfect gentlemen as they helped her down the street and into a parked car, a new car, whose perfect condition and gleaming finish seemed totally out of place against the dirty streets and dilapidated buildings. She lost track of where they were going or how long it took to get there, fascinated with exploring the delicious intoxication that had her floating several inches above the car seat.. When the car stopped it looked as though they were in the same neighborhood: the same shadowy empty buildings, deserted streets. But the low building they stopped before was obviously inhabited, despite attempts to make it look empty. The air seemed to throb with life and the lot beside it was filled with cars. When they pulled up, two men emerged from the shadows to checked them out. They led her around to a side door, and when their knock was answered and the door opened, a shaft of blue light spilled out, accompanied by a blast of music and smoke. A club of some kind. A man in a tuxedo came out. He was small and compact, with a head of curly salt-and-pepper hair, and he seemed to know Doc and Z. The three of them were engaged in some sort of discussion, low and intense, involving money. Zanny tried to pay attention, but she simply couldn’t concentrate. The door was halfway open and she was trying to see into the club, but she couldn’t see past the brightness of the light by the door. She was excited about being at a club. She could hear the music and she found that she wanted to dance, to move. The man was going on about some entertainers who hadn’t shown up for work, cursing them because he had a full house. He said that several times, that he had a full house and no entertainment. Then she tuned out. Or rather, she fixed her attention on herself. She was swaying ever so slightly to the beat, and she was aware or the feel of her own body; the feel of her clothes on her skin, the play of her muscles as she shifted from foot to foot. It felt glorious just to move to the music, just to let it take her mind away and concentrate on the feel of her own body. She had to repress a smile. Max—that apparently was his name--was suddenly looking at her, looking her up and down. She was used to that; used to men staring at her, and it didn’t bother her. She knew he was admiring her, and she knew that she was terribly sexy and seductive. She could feel it. No man could resist her the way she felt now, and she let him look, concentrating on the music and ignoring him. The next thing she knew there was a woman standing with them, heavily made up and wearing a robe. The woman looked about mid-thirties and smiled at Zanny. Zanny smiled back. Then Max was shaking Doc and Z’s hands. He turned and went inside, and Doc turned to Zanny and said in her ear, “This is Tina. She’s going to take you inside and get you cleaned up, get you some new clothes. Okay? You understand?” Yes, Zanny nodded, still swaying to the music, she understood. “We’ll wait for you inside, okay?” “Okay.” she said. Z stepped forward. “You want some more wine?” he asked her. “No,” Doc said, “she’s okay. Let’s not overdo it.” All Zanny wanted to do now was dance, but Tina took her hand and led her into the club, down through a brightly lit corridor, chatting and fussing over Zanny like a mother hen. “I can’t believe what they did to you, baby, those bastards, but they’re good boys mostly and don’t mean to hurt anyone. They must have got carried away, the way you look and all. But let’s not think about that. Let’s get you all cleaned up cause I know you’re gonna knock these bastards dead.” She opened a door to a quiet, carpeted room or suite. “The dressing room” she said. Zanny didn’t object when Tina undressed her and steered her into the shower, nor even when Tina helped wash her back. By now she was in a world where nothing seemed to matter, where everything that happened happened miles and miles away. Tina dried her off, did Zanny’s makeup and got her some stockings and a dress with no resistance from Zanny at all. She didn’t mind that she wasn’t given any underwear. The soft stretchy fabric caressed and squeezed her body in all the right places and felt very good on her skin. It made her feel wonderfully sexy, and she could tell from the look in Tina’s eyes that the woman thought so too. She watched it all with amused detachment while Tina talked to her as if she were a child, and the only time Zanny showed any sign of even being there was when Tina chose the lipstick to put on Zanny’s mouth. Then Zanny shook her head and picked another color with more of an orange tint. She knew that she looked better in orange, and as Tina did her lips, she had to agree. Still in a dream, Tina led her from the room, down the corridor and finally into the dim blue light of the club itself, where at last she could feel the beat of the music in her body, the throb of the bass and drums. The dress felt exquisite against her skin as she began to move her hips to the music, but Tina took her hand and led her firmly towards the back of the club. It was very dark but Zanny had the impression of a maze of small tables with chest-high partitions providing some symbolic privacy. Men, very well dressed, most of them older than what she’d expect on a place like this, some of them in formal wear; and women much younger; the glimmer of too much jewelry, too much skin showing; perfume and smoke thick in the air. Tina led her to a table in the back and sat her down. There was a man in a tuxedo sitting at the table smiling at her. He looked familiar to Zanny but she couldn’t place him, and it took her a moment before she realized with a start that it was Doc. Tina said something to Doc and then turned to Zanny and gave her a kiss on the cheek and patted her shoulder. “Break a leg.” she said, and she walked off. The change in Doc from the rapist of earlier that night was bewildering, and Zanny laughed, not knowing what to say. She wanted to tell him what had happened to her as well, but all she could do was indicate her dress and say “Wow!” Doc smiled at her and poured her some champagne from a bottle that was cooling in a bucket. He seemed very sophisticated, very much in control. She wondered whether the champagne too was drugged, but she really didn’t much care. Whatever the drug was, it was most agreeable. She liked the way she felt, sexy and relaxed and confident. She drank the champagne greedily; it tasted so good. She was going to ask him about Z when Max came over and leaned over the table to speak with Doc. Whatever they were talking about seemed important, but she couldn’t concentrate. She was too busy drinking her champagne and looking at all the people. None of the riffraff she’d usually see at the clubs she knew, this crowd--the men at least-- reeked of money and privilege. “Ten minutes.” Max was saying to Doc. “And you’d better be fucking ready!” “We’re ready.” Doc said. “I just got to warm her up a little.” “Well I’d suggest you get to it.” Max walked off. Looking around the room, Zanny caught the eye of a couple sitting at the next table. The man was in his 40’s, slim, athletic, with salt-and-pepper hair and a bored look on his face. He looked her up and down with frank admiration and smiled at her. There was no mistaking that look. He was with a blond woman whose hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a rhinestone choker and matching earrings, and she regarded Zanny with jealous arrogance. Zanny looked away, and noticed that there was some sort of a stage or platform at the far end of the room, and in front of that am area cleared for a dance floor, though no one was using it. “I want to dance” Zanny said. Doc raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. “How do you feel?” “I feel good.” she said. “Let’s dance.” “Not now, Baby.” Doc said, putting his glass down and shifting his chair over closer to her. “Let’s do something else.” He put one hand around her chair and held her face with the other. His mouth came down on hers in a very tender, teasing kiss, and his tongue licked her lower lip before he took it in his teeth and gently bit her. The sensation jolted Zanny like an electric shock. She forgot everything but the feel of his lips on hers, the kiss bypassing all her thinking and going right down to her erotic core. It was as if she’d been primed and ready for this, waiting only for this kiss to set her off. She was suddenly terribly aroused, and when he broke away from her she was almost panting. “God you are hot.” he said. He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. She forgot all about the people around them, several of whom had turned to watch quite openly, including the man with the salt-and-pepper hair and his blond companion. Zanny didn’t even notice them. She squeezed Doc, wanting to feel him against her breasts. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back while he licked and bit at her throat. His other hand made contact with her stocking on the inside of her leg just above the knee, and she felt a hungry twinge in her pussy that made her gasp. One part of her mind told her that it was the drug making her feel this way, but she didn’t care. She only knew how she felt, and she was desperate for his touch, for his hands on her body. She felt strangely soft and female, and she yearned to feel his male hardness against her. Still holding her head back by her hair, Doc slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, higher, higher. Zanny’s chair squeaked loudly on the floor as she pushed away from the table and opened her legs for him, raising the hem of her dress. The sound of the chair caused heads to turn but she didn’t care. She didn’t notice them. “Oh my God!” she moaned, “Touch me! Touch me!” His mouth cut her off as he kissed her again and she opened her own to take his tongue deep inside, sucking hungrily on it. She moaned loudly into his mouth as his fingers found her sex at last, and pure pleasure shot through her. A few people chuckled and a male voice said, “Yeah! Give it to her!” With a flush of embarrassment Zanny heard the women murmuring in disapproval, but she could not seem to collect herself. She was on fire with lust. Her hips began to buck slowly yet convulsively at Doc’s seeking fingers, and Zanny had to hold on to the arms of her chair for fear of falling off. She could no longer control her body which seemed to have a mind of its own. She half slouched in her chair, her legs spread lewdly as she ground her hips up at Doc’s finger sliding slowly up and down the soft, exposed lips of her sex. Some of the men nearby began to clap and even whistle and Zanny heard them turn their chairs to get a better view. She knew what she must look like with her dress up around her hips and her ass rolling hungrily in the chair, but she was helpless to stop herself. Instead she tore her lips from Doc’s and grabbed a hold of Doc’s wrist, trying to pull his hand tight against her pussy and whispered, “Put your finger in me! Finger fuck me. Please!” Again the applause and whistling, cries of encouragement. “Hey man, I’ll do her!” someone called, and the notion was seconded by a chorus of male voices. Doc let her go, removed his hand from between her legs, leaving Zanny slumped in her chair, eyes closed, fighting to keep her composure. The rush of hormones she’d experienced seemed to have washed away some of the drugged high, and she was aware that she had made a spectacle of herself again. She straightened herself in her chair, ran her hand through her disheveled hair, and tried to become invisible. My God, what’s wrong with me? she thought. But before she could formulate the beginning of an answer, Doc took her hand and stood up. “Let’s go.” he said. Zanny: Performance Ch. 3 She was still high, but not so high that she could keep from blushing deep red as he led her through the tables as men applauded and made wisecracks. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore them as Doc led her along. Her behavior frightened her. It was if she had no control over herself at all. He led her down some stairs, through a corridor, up more stairs, until she was thoroughly confused. The drug was starting to assert itself again, so that she forgot what it was that she’d just been so upset about. She was so absorbed in her own fragmented thoughts and swirling emotions, that she didn’t notice where they were when they stopped. They were in the shadowy vestibule of some large, dark room. It was all so dreamlike. The room was spot lit, and she saw some sort of a bed, some other pieces of furniture. From the ceiling several very large mirrors tilted over the room at a 45 degree angle. Zanny noticed this, though it was odd, then thought no more about it. Beyond the bright white cones from the spotlights she could see only darkness. Doc turned and took her in his arms. She raised her face to his kiss, and again felt herself melt into a puddle of need against his body as his lips came down on hers. “Do you want it, Baby?” he asked. “Oh yes.” she breathed. “please.” “You sure?” “God yes!” Dimly she was aware of a squeal of electronic feedback from somewhere far off, then a man’s voice, coming through a loudspeaker as if he were announcing something. She didn’t pay attention. Doc suddenly turned and led her into the room. The floor was wood, and three sides seemed to be hung with floor-to-ceiling drapes. The fourth wall must have been a long way off because she could see no sign of it in the darkness. Doc led her to a plain wooden chair that sat beneath a white spotlight and had her sit down, then he moved a few steps back. As soon as he left the beam of the light Zanny could not see him, though she could still hear his voice telling her to relax. Zanny could tell dimly that the room was immense. She could feel the space stretching away in front of her, and she wondered vaguely where she might be, but she didn’t care about that. She only cared about the aching need in her body. “Do you want me?” Doc whispered from the darkness. “Yes!” she said. “Prove it.” “What?” “I want you to prove it.” Doc said in a low voice. “I want you to prove that you want me, Baby. I want to see how hot you are. I want to see you play with yourself.” “What?” Zanny didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why he was doing this to her, playing this game. “Come on, Zanny.” he said, “Show me your pussy. Show me how hot you are. Make me want you.” “Oh please…” she said. “Come on Baby. Get me hot. Get me hard. Let me see that pretty cunt.” Zanny smiled slightly as she finally understood what he wanted. He wasn’t the first man to ask her to do this kind of thing, and she didn’t mind showing him what she had. Teasing was something she knew she was good at. She laughed. She leaned forward in the chair, put her hands between her legs and squeezed her arms together, forcing her cleavage out at him. “Ask me nice.” she said with a giggle. “Say Please.” “Please.” Doc said. “Pretty pretty please, Baby. Please show me.” Acting the coquette, Zanny slowly hiked up the dress, past the top of her stockings. She reached down and stroked herself through the dress. “Is this what you want?” she asked slyly. “Yes.” he said. “Please show me your pussy, Baby. It makes me so hot.” Zanny laughed. She stroked herself again and began rolling her hips. “Oh!” she breathed, keeping one eye on him, “that feels so good!” She was doing it to tease, but soon her body took over. She rubbed herself faster, as her hips fucked lewdly at her hand. She moaned. “Oh yeah! Oh that feels good, baby. That feels so good!” “Show me.” Doc said softly. “Show me what you like.” Zanny turned her head to the side. She took the hem of her dress and pulled it up to her waist, spread her thighs and exposed her shaved vagina to him, her labia shiny with her moisture, as her hips rolled slowly and sensuously in the chair. “Like this?” she teased. “Like this?” Doc’s voice was no more than a whisper. “Yes, baby. Now play with yourself. Get yourself hot.” “Yesss.” Zanny moaned. “I have to. I have to touch myself. It feels so good!” Her fingers began to trace up and down her bare slit, parting her labia to stroke her clit and explore her opening. She pushed her hips forward on the chair, spreading her legs wide, bit her lip and groaned with pleasure. She hung her head and gasped as she inserted two fingers inside her vagina and plunged them slowly in and out while her other hand kept her dress up on her stomach so that Doc could see every move. “Oh Yes,” she moaned, “Oh yes, oh yes. I’m just so hot, baby. So hot!” She removed her fingers and began to wiggle them against her clit. She raised her legs and managed to hook her heels on the chair rail, so she could keep her knees apart. As she concentrated on her masturbation, she used her free hand to massage her breasts. Doc could see everything she was feeling right there on her face. And he knew that the audience behind him, sitting in the dark, could see it too. They were absolutely silent, rapt with attention watching Zanny masturbate, and they could hear every moan, every gasp, even hear the wet sluicing of her fingers in her pussy thanks to the stage microphone that hung just behind her chair picking up every sound. “Oh fuck!” she squealed. “Oh God, baby! I’m going to come! Can I make myself come, baby? Please? I need it. I need it so much!” Doc smiled in the shadows. “Do it, Zanny. Make yourself come. I want to see you make yourself come!” “Oh God!” Zanny groaned, her head lolling back. She let go of her breast and used both hands on her pussy now, the left plunging into her vagina, the right vibrating desperately at her clit. She began to whine as she felt herself climb that hill towards orgasm, her whine grew louder as her thighs began to tremble and she felt the sparks gather in her belly, building, building… She glanced up at Doc to see his eyes shining at her, hot with lust, that male look she knew so well, and the naughty thrill of being watched was about to lift her up and over into her climax when someone in the club opened a door, admitting a shaft of light that fell on a slice of the people watching her from below, all the well-dressed men and their women, all breathless, every eye fixed on her, riveted to her hands working in her pussy as she masturbated shamelessly before them. The sudden realization of where she was burned through her sexual frenzy, burned through the numbing fog of the drug, burned directly into her mind. She was on a stage, with hundreds of people watching her, smirking or smiling or mouths hanging open in shock at her perfectly depraved performance. A bolt of shame rushed through her and she turned her head to the side so as not to see, but she’d already seen. And worse then that, the sight of them suddenly rocketed her into a violent shrieking orgasm. She tried to hold it back, tried to deny it, but that only made it more intense. Her hips fucked wildly onto her fingers and all her muscles tightened into a rictus of agonized pleasure as throb after throb of burning ecstasy ripped through her body again and again. She tried to grit her teeth in denial but she couldn’t hold back the savage scream of joy that ripped from her throat. And suddenly she wanted to show them all, show them what a shameless whore she really was. She wanted them to see her pussy contacting around her fingers with each glorious spasm, the juice of her own arousal leaking down over her asshole. She closed her eyes and let her release and her shame and joy wash through her in mind-numbing waves, leaving her panting and exhausted and damp with sweat. There was no applause, no wise cracks, not a sound but her panting and gasping. The audience was totally silent as Doc came over and kissed her. Zanny looked up at him weakly, seeking some answer in his face as to how he could have done this to her, but she saw nothing but a knowing smile. She felt someone behind her, and reached up as she felt a collar of some kind being fastened around her neck. Craning around she saw a black man standing behind her. She could not recognize him because he had a leather mask over his face, but she had no doubt that it was Z. He was shirtless, and wore a harness of black leather straps across his chest. Aside from that and a leather g-strong he was naked. Together, Z and Doc fastened leather cuffs to Zanny’s wrists, and Z quickly clipped some short chains to them, then a long sliver chain leash to the collar. Zanny watched in disbelief, still weak from her orgasm. Now the audience began to stir. Throats were cleared, there was some nervous laughter. But the crowd was still very tense. the air was thick with sexual tension. Doc stood back and said in a stage voice, :”My dear, you’ve been very bad. Playing with yourself like that is not acceptable, and you know it. I’m afraid you leave me no choice but to discipline you.” He turned to Z. “Maestro, she’s all yours.” Z jerked her neck chain, pulling her from her chair. Her fear was real. “Oh my God! What are you doing?” “Quiet, baby. It’s all part of the show.” Z whispered in her ear as he manhandled her towards the back of the stage. “You ain’t gonna be hurt. Not too much.” Z reached up, attaching the leash to a wall hook. Despite his dubious assurance, despite the fog from the drugs she’d been fed, Zanny was frightened. She was not only frightened of Z and the chains, but of the audience as well. What kind of place was this? Who were these people? How could they do this to her? She fumbled with the collar, trying to unbuckle it, but Z took her wrists and attached them to chains that hung from a free-swinging bar a few feet over her head. When both wrists were fastened, he reached over to a crank and winch on the wall and slowly wound it up, raising Zanny’s arms, spreading her out until she stood almost on tiptoe. “Stop!” she cried. “Stop it!” The white spotlight that had been on her changed suddenly to a menacing red. Z stepped aside, letting the audience get a good look at her as she stood there helpless in the restraints. The fear on her face was real. There were murmurs of approval from the audience. Her outstretched arms pushed her breasts up and out and raised the hem of her dress so that the tops of her black stockings were visible, along with the creamy flesh of her upper thighs. They could see Zanny’s very real fear, and feel her helplessness, and it excited them. Men shouted and whistled, encouraging Z to proceed. But it was the women who yelled the loudest, urging Z to beat her, whip her good, make her hurt. Z cocked a hand to his ear, feigning deafness, as if he couldn’t hear. The audience erupted in more shouting. “Whip her! Beat her ass! The whore!” Now pretending to understand, Z took Zanny’s bound hand and turned her slowly around, so that her back was to the audience. He slowly lifted the hem of her dress, showing her naked behind to the crowd, who only grew more excited at the sight of her exposed ass. In a few swift, brutal moves, he ripped the dress from her body, leaving her standing there in only her black stockings, shoes, and the leather collar. Her smooth skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration under the red light, and the black stockings set off the soft fullness of her proud round ass.. “Oh God!” Zanny cried in shame and fear. “Oh my God!” It was doubtful that anyone could hear her, despite the microphone above her head, the audience was so loud. Z bent down and picked up a flogger, a cat o’nine tails, and whipped it over his head experimentally. Zanny could hear it as it cut through the air with an evil sound. He raised it up and held it overhead as the audience shouted, then brought it down with a loud crack on Zanny’s naked ass. “Owwww!” she screamed as the audience roared. It burned, stung, and left a fiery red swath across her trembling ass. But worse than the pain was the humiliation of being whipped, of being whipped in front of a room full of strangers for their erotic amusement. Z raised the whip again. Zanny could see his shadow against the wall, and she braced herself, trying not to cry out as the cat slashed across her buttocks again. It stung sharply this time and she felt her ass grow warm. She closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t see when the next stroke was coming. But now Z seemed to be getting into it. His strokes were less theatrical and more direct, and once her ass was warmed up, the blows didn’t sting so much, the pain wasn’t so sharp. Instead she felt it as a deep throb, a dull ache in her ass and spreading to her vagina, making her ache there with a desperate emptiness. Now Z took her hand again and spun her around so that she faced the audience, so that they could see her naked body strain and tremble as the lash fell, could see her struggle to escape the bonds. Her attempts to twist away to avoid the lash were futile. Z easily followed her as she tried to squirm away from him. She was fully aware that the audience could see every reaction, every expression on her face reflected in the mirrors overhead. There was no hiding from them. The idea of being treated like this, like something less than human filled her with anguish, but as the beating continued she found it hurt less and less and began almost to feel—dare she even admit it?--good. The tension from the audience was palpable, the room was electric with repressed lust, but Zanny dared not open her eyes to see the faces staring at her. She was afraid, afraid that they’d see the growing excitement and arousal in her eyes. For there was no longer any doubt that the whippings now felt good as they ignited a blaze in her cunt, and she began to thrust her ass back to meet the falling lash. The women were now yelling louder than the men, telling Z to put more force into it, to let her have it, to whip her pussy and her breasts. Several of them were standing up in their excitement, eyes wild, wanting to see Zanny hurt, degraded, punished. They called her bitch, cunt, slut, and the words burned into Zanny’s addled mind. They hated her because she was beautiful, because she was young, and because all their men wanted her. All their men were staring at Zanny’s naked body, her proud. heavy breasts, the nipples keen with excitement, her flat, taut stomach, the lush swell of her hips, the smooth curves of her long, stocking-clad legs, and the naked and vulnerable mound of her sex. And her face, her face twisted into a grimace of sensual agony, disturbingly like the face of a woman in orgasm. The men looked at her with desire and contempt, and the women with savage jealousy. In a deep part of Zanny’s mind she knew this was right; that she deserved to be punished like this, punished for her desires, for her beauty. She wanted it. She was aware of her body, her nakedness, of every stroke of the lash, the burning in her tender ass, the weight of her tits on her chest, the gnawing hunger in her cunt. She realized that she was terribly aroused, that her cunt was leaking, and the realization filled her with a deep shame that only increased her excitement. “Oh yes!” she whispered. “Oh God yes! Harder! Harder! Beat me!” Zanny tried to choke back her tears of anguish and humiliation. She would not let them see her weep. She tried to shut out the audience’s calls and whistles, but one woman’s voice kept getting louder, and when Z paused with the whip to catch his breath, she realized dimly that the woman was approaching the stage. The woman made her way forward from the back of the room, stumbling but determined. She was obviously drunk, her face was flushed, and as she worked through the tables she was stripping off her clothes, her blouse and skirt. Some hands reached for her to try and stop her, but others just shouted encouragement as she passed by their tables. Through half-closed eyes Zanny saw that it was the blonde with the rhinestone choker, the one who’d given her the look earlier, and the blonde was full of jealous anger. The man she’d been with was now also hurrying through the crowd, trying to catch her before she reached the stage, calling “Lisa! Wait! Lisa!” But the blonde paid him no mind as she quickly mounted the stairs clad only in her shoes and white stockings, white panties and bra, the jeweled choker and earrings blazing with color in the spotlights. Z stood there unsure of what to do as the woman walked boldly up to him, took the whip from his hand and strode over to Zanny. “You cheap bitch!” the woman spat, “You worthless slut! Tramp! You’ve got this coming! Whore!” She raised the whip and brought it down on Zanny’s sore and reddened ass, making the girl cry out in alarm and lurch in the chains. The blonde beat her again and this time the audience responded, angry and lust-choked voices shouting words of encouragement. But the woman was simply not as strong as Z, and though each stroke was filled with feminine fury, the blows only added to the rage of guilt and masochistic pleasure burning in Zanny’s body, the heat from her beaten ass fusing with the ache in her pussy and filling her with a confusion of shame and not desire. The man by now had reached the foot of the stairs and paused, not wanting to join the tableau on stage. “Lisa, damnit! Get back here!” he called, but the woman paid him no mind. She was totally absorbed in punishing the helpless girl before her, whose naked body twitched and writhed in the chains as she beat her. Nothing like this had ever happened in one of these private sex shows before, and Max and Doc both stood out from the wings not sure what to do, while Z watched the woman work on Zanny’s body with a professional eye and the man tried to coax her odd the stage. The blonde was apparently getting some deep satisfaction from lashing Zanny’s voluptuous body, and she whipped her until she herself was red and sweating, her neatly arranged hair coming lose and hanging around her face in sweaty tendrils. She came around in front of the helpless girl and lashed her across the thighs, across her defenseless breasts, her eyes glowing with anger and lust. She beat her until she beat the anger out of herself, and stood there, her breasts heaving as she gazed at Zanny, panting for breath from her exertion. Then she dropped the whip, and suddenly overcome with remorse she began to kiss Zanny hungrily, her neck, her shoulders, her face, sobbing and gasping, “Oh baby, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby! I’m so sorry!” The touch of the woman’s hands on Zanny’s bruised and tender flesh almost made her swoon, and she gave herself over to the woman’s touch. moaning as the blonde’s hand slid down her body to cup her wet pussy. “Oh yes!” Zanny hissed, “Touch me! Please, touch me!” The audience was dead quiet as they watched the two women kissing open mouthed, tongues lashing at each other. The blonde worked one leg between Zanny’s and grabbing Zanny’s red and aching ass, she pulled the girl to her, sliding Zanny’s damp slit across her leg as she herself worked her pussy on Zanny’s thigh. Their sobs and gasps of desire were audible throughout the room. The men on stage looked at one another with confusion and shrugged. Then, as the audience called out, Z pulled off his mask and undid his loincloth, letting his huge erection bob free. He started towards the two women but Doc grabbed his arm and signaled him with a nod of his head to just watch and wait. Lisa dropped to her knees in front of Zanny and pushed her face into Zanny’s crotch as the girl looked on with panting excitement. Zanny’s pain, humiliation, her shame and her confusion, nothing seemed to matter to her now as much as getting this woman’s tongue to touch her, and she rocked her hips up in an attempt to spread herself for Lisa’s seeking tongue, whining with need. Zanny: Performance Ch. 3 The blonde grabbed Zanny’s ass and pulled her forward, tilting her head back, and the long, pink probe of her tongue could be seen spreading Zanny’s labial folds as she sought the sweet meat of her pussy. Zanny jerked in the chains, her held fell back and she gasped as Lisa’s tongue found her clit’ “Oh, God, yes!” she cried out shamelessly as her hips spasmed against the blonde’s mouth The man in the tux came quickly up the stairs but it was obvious he had no intention of stopping his girlfriend now. Instead he rushed over to where he could watch her eating Zanny’s pussy, a lewd and excited smile on his face. “That’s it, Lisa! Suck that pussy! Suck it, baby!” he hissed, “Make her come, you lezzy bitch!” By this time the entire audience was pressed forward right up to the edge of the low stage to get a better view of the action. They crowded the dance floor area, men, men and women, all eyes on the spectacle not five feet away from them, almost close enough to touch. When Zanny looked down she couldn’t avoid seeing their faces leering at her, watching her as she reveled in having her pussy eaten by a strange woman, Some were excited, some were disgusted, but all eyes were on her, so close they could hear the sticky sounds of Lisa’s tongue working in Zanny’s wet cunt, hear the women’s heavy breathing and whispered pleas for more, almost like prayers. “Fuck her!” someone called out, shattering the rapt silence. “Yeah! Fuck her!” “Fuck her ass, the bitch!” “Cunt!” Zanny didn’t care about the watchers anymore, she didn’t care that they saw what a cum-hungry slut she was. She was afire with need. All she felt was Lisa’s wet tongue sliding through her slick cunt. “Oh yes, eat me!” she hissed, “Eat my pussy! Make me come!” Her words inflamed Lisa who began to slap Zanny’s already sore ass as she opened her mouth and sucked the girl’s fevered pussy flesh inside, as if she could not get enough of the girl’s flesh. But now the crowd was growing restless, calling for some real sex. Doc noticed that the women seemed more excited than the men. Despite their expensive clothes and jewelry they beat on the stage and screamed, pointing at Zanny. It was as if she were a gladiator and the thumbs down had been given. Doc and Z unhooked her wrists from the chain, pulling her down while Lisa, unwilling to let her go, crawled after her until Tuxedo restrained her and pulled down her panties as the crowd hooted. Dizzy, bruised, and close to orgasm, Zanny staggered slightly as Doc clipped her wrists behind her back. Then she fell against him, pushing her crotch at him and running her tongue over her lips. “Fuck me.” she whispered. “Please fuck me. Hurt me. Hurt me some more, please!” Doc smiled as he looked down at the beautiful girl, her face fogged with a look of sheer lust. He had no doubt that he could do whatever he wanted with her now. She would suck his cock, or open her legs, or he could even take her ass and she wouldn’t object. She was in a sexual delirium where anything would feel good to her. To prove it to himself he caressed one of her turgid nipples softly, running his finger around the swollen aureole, then pinched it, pinched it hard. Zanny, her hands shackled behind her back, hissed in pain, then thrust her breasts out and turned her face to him and whispered, “Yes! More! More!” Doc grabbed her by the arm and picked up the whip Lisa had dropped. He propelled Zanny over to the crude bed, no more than a sheet of plywood with some blankets over it, and threw her down. Without her hands to break her fall, Zanny twisted to the side, landing on her shoulder. Doc began stripping off his clothes while Zanny writhed on the bed, humping her pussy up and down, trying to stimulate herself to get the relief she needed so terribly. When Doc’s big cock popped out of his shorts she shamelessly licked her lips and moaned, a bitch in heat. “You want this, baby?” Doc leered. “Yes!” Zanny whispered shamelessly. “Yes I want it!” Doc laughed. He reached down and caught one of Zanny’s ankles and easily lifted her foot, causing her legs to spread and exposing her pussy to the crowd. She was wet and swollen, and her labia glistened in the spotlight. “You are a naughty little bitch.” he said, lifting her foot higher. With a quick flick he laid the cat down on the inside of her thigh, inches from her pussy. Zanny screamed as hot pain tore up the inside of her leg. “Oh God” she moaned. Her hands were bound behind her, her legs spread, She had no way to defend herself or protect her most sensitive flesh from the whip. “Now let’s see if we can get some more juice going.” Doc said. Zanny screamed again as he lifted her foot higher and let the cat fall right along her crease. He didn’t hit her hard, but as aroused as she was the leather thongs stung her labia and made her pussy burn wildly. She gasped and tears flooded her eyes. She jerked in his grasp, trying to close her legs. Whackkk! Again the cat came down, this time harder, stinging her tender pussy flesh, sending shards of pain into her brain. “Please! Don’t! No!” she whimpered. twisting in his grasp, the blankets tangling beneath her. The skin on the inside of her thighs was an angry red, but, despite the pain, her pussy was leaking lubricant all over. The thongs of the whip were shiny with her juices. “Bitch!” he said. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” “God! No! No!” she wailed. “Please stop! I’ll do whatever you want! Just no more! Tell me what you want me to do! Anything!” Doc laughed, hefting the whip. “Why, baby,” he said with an evil leer, “I want you to suffer, that’s what I want you to do.” Wackkk! The whip came down once more, then Doc threw it aside. “On your belly.” he said. Smarting and burning, her pussy tingling, Zanny managed to squirm over on her stomach. She felt Doc kneel between her legs, grab her hips and pull her to her knees. He looked up to check where they were in relation to the overhead mirror which gave the crowd and unobstructed view of the action, and, satisfied, he spread her ass cheeks to see her pussy, now red and glistening. “Okay, baby.” he said. “Daddy’s coming in!” Zanny gasped when she felt the smooth head of his cock part her oily labia and rest against her vagina, and she moaned loudly as he slowly went into her, his blunt cock stretching her sheath and sending rockets of pleasure to her brain. Her pussy, her ass, were on fire from her beatings and wildly sensitive, and she could feel every wrinkle, every vein on his cock as it plowed into her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming out, felt the juice stream from her cunt as he filled her, but all she cared about was the big meat going into her pussy. When he’d gone as deep as he could go, he pushed forward again, breaking through into uncharted territory, filling her with flashes of exquisite pain that only added to her masochistic pleasure. He shoved hard, until he mashed her pussy lips flat against his loins and Zanny opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. “Oh God!” she croaked, trembling with pleasure and pain. “Oh God!” Doc leaned back so that their union could be seen in the overhead mirror. He slowly pulled out, sucking her insides out with him, or so it felt to Zanny, then plunged back in again. “Oh yeah!” he breathed. “That’s good pussy! That’s some real good pussy!” He began fucking her with savage thrusts, making her kneeling body rock back and forth as the crowd shouted encouragement. Looking up he saw that Z had Lisa on her hands and knees and was also fucking her doggie style while her boyfriend, Tuxedo, stood in front of her with his pants around his ankles and his cock in her mouth. Her tits had fallen out of the bra and were rocking back and forth with Z’s powerful strokes. Now the audience was going wild. Everywhere were men and women locked in wild sexual embrace, women on their backs on the tables, their fine gowns thrown up around their waists as the men fucked them with savage strokes; big cocks disappearing into wet, pink flesh, shrieks and moans of desire. Women bent over the tables, asses in the air as men in tuxedo jackets, their pants around their ankles, fucked into them like mechanical puppets. The room reeked of sex and semen and vaginal secretions as the audience went at each other with cocks and tongues and fingers, glasses breaking, tables creaking, panting, gasping, screaming. Doc rolled Zanny on her side and lifted her upper leg high in the air, splitting her apart and giving him deeper access to her already stuffed pussy. This way the crowd could see her pussy lips stretched over his big meat and the way her labia folded in and out with his steady thrusts. He hooked her leg over her shoulder and used his free had to rub her clit, making her cry out. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God, fuck me!” Hearing her, Tuxedo pulled his cock from Lisa’s sucking lips and came over to the bed. Without so much as a word he let his big log flop down on Zanny’s cheek as Doc continued to ride her pussy with long, steady strokes. Zanny needed no coaxing to know what to do and she opened her mouth like a baby bird at feeding time and let him thrust his piece into her mouth. Both men now fucked her, buffeting her body between them as if she were a rag doll, each of them inflamed by the site of the other abusing her voluptuous body. Zanny was trembling, her big tits shaking on her chest Doc fucked her so hard the shoe fell off her extended leg. Her toes spread wide then curled tight against the sole of her foot as her big come approached. Pleasure throbbed inside her with every thrust. She could not tell where she ended and the cocks began, she only knew that she was in heaven., a masochistic heaven of sexual bliss. She couldn’t take much more. She was close, close. She heard Lisa scream as Z unloaded his charge of come into her cunt, swearing and groaning, the black man’s muscular body coated with sweat as the blonde clawed at the wooden floor as she took all of his hot and heavy load. In his excitement Doc grabbed Zanny’s meaty tits and squeezed hard, his fingers pinching her hard nipples, sending shards of pain stabbing through her and pushing her up and over the edge into a racing, screaming orgasm. He saw her eyes pop open in shock and stare sightlessly at him in the unbelievable force of what she was feeling, then roll back into her head in rapture as a wild scream tore from her throat, muffled by Tuxedo’s thick plug of meat in her mouth. Her body arched, every muscle bone-tight and her sheath clutched at him and massaged his cock with peristaltic waves as her come blazed through her body from her head to the depths of her womb. “Holy fuck!” Tuxedo cried, thrusting into her voracious mouth, “Suck it, bitch! I want to see you suck my fucking come! Nnnggghh!” Doc could see her swallowing reflexively as Tuxedo unloaded his gism into her mouth but it was too much for her. She had lost all control of her body and the semen leaked in heavy streams from the corners of her mouth and across her cheek. She was so tight in her orgasmic spasm that Doc could no longer move his prick inside her and instead he just jammed it deep and froze while her trembling sheath milked the come from him. He felt it boil up from his prostate, race along the length of his hard cock and spew into her clutching depths in bolts of ecstatic release that made his head swim, while Tuxedo pulled his spewing cock from her sucking mouth and sent the rest of his load slathering over her cheek and lips. Zanny rocked in the storm of her wild come, knowing that she was making a total spectacle of herself but not caring. All she wanted was cock and come, delicious come, filling her up, washing her down. She felt the hot shots of Doc’s seed spurting against her cervix and it only took her higher, till her moans rose to a savage shriek of salacious joy, the cry of a sexual animal. She felt each throb of his deeply buried prick as it spat out its load of semen into her, gob after thick gob. She never wanted it to stop. But stop it did, and Doc finally emptied the last drops of his load into her pussy and rolled off her, his dick pulling sticky streams of come and juice from her cunt as he left. Tuxedo squeezed the last bit of ejaculate from his prick, wiping it across Zanny’s swollen and accepting lips to clean it off, and staggered away like a man in shock.. But Doc had no sooner stood up than he was pushed roughly aside by a red and sweating middle-aged man who already had his fat prick out, his bulging eyes on Zanny’s semen-smeared cunt. He climbed on top of her and thrust his cock into her, making her grunt, and immediately began to hump her wildly, while another man came around to her head, took a fistful of her hair, flopped his stiff piece of meat down in front of her face and smacked her in the lips with it, demanding she suck it. And now Doc noticed that there was a line of men waiting their turns, This wouldn’t do, he thought, knowing that the club was permitted to present live sex acts as entertainment, but not to allow the patrons to actually participate. But there was no way he was going to stop this. This was a sexual riot, and not his business. Besides, there was Max, the club manager, third in line, his prick already in his hand. Doc shrugged, gathered up his clothes and walked off. It must have been hours later that Zanny awoke. The club was empty, the party was over. The overhead lights were on in the room, and the place had the seedy and dirty feel clubs always have when seen in full light. She was alone on stage, lying on the bed, the floor around her littered with spilled drinks, condoms, cigarette butts, some discarded panties. She was sore and bruised and totally fucked out. She could feel thick gobs of semen still running from her pussy, and the skin on her face and thighs was stiff and crusted with dried come and God knew what else. She decided not to move, not just yet. She didn’t want to deal with it yet.. She heard footsteps coming across the stage, and opened her eyes just enough to see one of the clean-up crew approach her, still carrying his broom. Tentatively he reached out and touched her on the shoulder. She didn’t move so he touched her harder, giving her a little push, and Zanny groaned. She was too sore, too beat. She knew what she must look like, but she didn’t care. The man came over and looked at her, she saw his eyes drawn to her cunt. With a leer he reached out and ran a finger along her greasy slit, and in spite of herself her hips jerked up towards his hand. She startled him, but only for a moment. He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand, then he reached out again and touched her pussy. Zanny suppressed a gasp, and the man then slipped a finger inside her. Zanny groaned. She was so sore, but, God help her, it felt good. It felt shamefully good. She rolled over on her back, keeping her eyes closed. Her stockings were ruined, full of holes and runs, splattered with dried semen and saliva, but she brought her heels up and let her legs fall open. The man cursed in his language and chuckled at what he saw. He said something again in his foreign language, calling to a friend. Then he dropped his broom and she heard his zipper come down. She felt his weight on the bed. She sighed and opened her legs to him as she heard more footsteps on the stairs. Zanny Doc suddenly pulled her head from his cock and she watched him silently as he stepped hurriedly out of his pants, kicking off his boots. She just had time to wipe her chin and swollen lips on the back of her hand before he got down on his knees in front of her and took her hair in his hand again. But this time he didn’t have to force her to take his rampant and erect cock. She sucked it into her mouth hungrily, groaning with lewd pleasure, swirling her tongue around him. “Oh yeah!” he breathed as he watched her mouth distend around his piece. “Yeah! You know what we got here, Z? You know what we got here? We got a little puss who likes it rough. We got a sweet little prick tease who likes to fuck around with her boyfriends and drive them crazy, don’t we baby? You just love to shake that little ass around and make all the dudes hard, then tell them no, don’t you? Hmm, Bitch? Ain’t that right?” Z gave a low and evil chuckle. Her panties were down around her thighs now, and Z pulled them down over her knees and off her legs completely, leaving her crotch and the tight moons of her buttocks naked before his eyes. She felt his warm and surprisingly soft hands caressing her ass cheeks, dipping into the dark and mysterious cleft between and sliding down to her shaved and sensitive labia. “Yeah, well she came to the wrong place for that shit.” he said. “That teasing don’t make it down here, baby. Not with a pussy like this one.” Doc had let go of her head and pushed her hair to the side so he could watch his cock sink into her mouth. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s why she comes down here dressed like this, begging for it. She knows she’s a naughty girl. She knows she’s a tease and needs to pay for it, but she can’t get that from her boyfriends, can you, bitch? You just can’t that hard cock in your pussy when you fuck with their heads, can you? You need someone to give it to you and make you scream, don’t you, baby? Someone who don’t take your shit.” His soft but ominous words sunk into her mind and despite herself she had to moan in agreement. That’s just what she was: a little prick teaser who was finally get what she knew she deserved. “Yeah…” Doc chuckled as he felt her sucking increase. Her didn’t have to hold her head now. She was bobbing her head hungrily, slaving over his hard cock, and her moans were moans of lust, not fear. He slid his hand down her body, over her back, feeling her soft, smooth ass. “A sweet little bitch who knows just how to drive the boys crazy, aren’t you?” he went on in an excited whisper. “Just what to wear to show off that tight little ass and those big juicy tits. You know just how to walk, how to smile, how to get whatever you want from those little boys. Ain’t that right?” He was right. Everything he said to her was true. She loved it when the boys begged her, when they moaned in her ear, when she could feel their big hard ons through their pants and she’d pretend to be shocked, horrified. And they were all so good to her, all so considerate and loving, never suspecting what a whore she was at heart, how she wanted to be used and fucked and made to do the most degrading things, made to be the slut that she knew she was. “Well you know what, baby?” Doc said, “That shit don’t go here. This time you’re going to pay up. This time you’re gonna deliver, bitch. You’re gonna give us everything we want, cunt. Everything!” “Mmmmm!” she moaned loudly as she felt Z’s mouth on her ass, his lips sliding over her buttocks while his hands slid warm and soft over her pussy. She wanted more, and she wiggled her hips at him as she sucked on Doc’s cock. Z growled in his throat and plunged his face into the crack of her ass, his tongue licking at her, sliding down till he found the bud of her asshole, making her squeal in shame and excitement. “Oh yeah!” he moaned, “oh yeah that is a tasty asshole!” “Oh God!” Doc said, his head falling back. “Suck it, slut! Suck my fucking cock!” She felt Z move behind her, felt him fumbling with his pants, then felt the soft head of his cock slide between her pussy lips, hot and hard. “No!” she groaned, taking Doc’s cock from her mouth for a moment as the last residual trace of her resistance asserted itself. “No! Please don’t!” Z smacked her hard on the bottom. “Shut your mouth, whore!” he yelled, “And get that ass in the air! Daddy’s comin’ in!” She shuffled his knees, arranging himself, and Zanny held her breath as she felt his cock spread her labia. “Nooo!” she groaned again, but not even she took her protest seriously this time. She was burning up to feel a hard cock inside her, reaming her out, fucking her while she kneeled with her ass in the air and another man’s cock in her mouth. She was on fire with excitement at her helplessness and her degradation at these strangers’ hands. Doc watched as her face went from a look of denial to one of rapt concentration as she felt Z’s big black cock enter her, stretching her cunt, filling her belly. “Come on, bitch!” Doc said thrusting his stiff cock into her face. “We ain’t done yet.” Zanny lowered her head to his glistening meat and took it in her mouth again as she reveled in the feel of Z’s cock sliding into her wet heat. The black man held her hips tightly and pulled her ass back hard against his loins, impaling her on his huge cock, her delicious tightness making him pant loudly through his pursed lips. “Oh yeah! Good pussy!” he said, “Good, good pussy!” “Fuck her, Z” Doc hissed, “Fuck the hell out of the bitch! She loves it! You see how she fucking loves it?” Z began to fuck her, pulling her back and pushing her away so that her tight cunt slid up and back on his big hard cock, her soft ass slamming into his hard belly. He reached beneath her and grabbed her blouse in both hands, then pulled, sending buttons flying as he ripped it open. He filled his hands with the soft, warm meat of her tits and squeezed savagely in his excitement as he rode his cock into her, and the feel of her swollen flesh in his hands seemed to drive him wild. He let go of her tits and slapped her ass again and again, as if he were riding a horse, urging her to fuck her pussy back at him while he looked down and watched his black stalk disappearing into the pink clutch of her tight cunt, and she responded like a mare in heat, no longer even trying to hide her extreme excitement at their rough use of her body. She writhed and twisted beneath them like the lowest cock-hungry slut, loving the feel of their stiff, demanding cocks, their lust-driven savagery as they attacked her flesh, using her for their own selfish pleasure. Zanny was moaning constantly now, screaming around Doc’s dick whenever Z gave her a particularly savage thrust, or gagging slightly when she took Doc’s cock too deep down her throat. Her clothes were ripped and askew, her hair hung in strings on her sweaty face, saliva and pre-cum drooled from her mouth, and her ass was bright red from Z’s constant slapping, but she loved it. She felt the fires growing in her belly every time Z’s heavy balls slapped against her swollen clit, and she reached beneath her with one hand and began to masturbate herself roughly, vibrating her pussy savagely with her fingers. “Fucking’ cunt!” Z gasped. “Fuckin’ you good, pussy! Fuckin’ you good! Fuck! Fuck!” Doc was beyond speech, he stared at Zanny slaving beneath him and saw her glance up at him, the look in her eye beseeching him to come in her mouth, begging him to spill his load of come in her eager mouth. He’d never seen such a come-hungry slut in all his life, and her look of pleading surrender, her red lips stretched around his pumping cock sent thrills down his spine and made his balls tingle. “You want it, bitch?” he gasped, “You want my come? You want me to pour my shit down your throat? Yeah? Yeah?” Zanny squealed in response and her hand flew at her pussy. Yes she wanted it. She wanted him to choke her with it, she wanted it to overflow her sucking lips and pour down her face. She wanted to hear him howl with relief as he pumped his gism into her belly, flooding her with his filthy seed. Z suddenly leaned forward and ripped her lacy bra from her breasts, letting her swollen jugs spill free. He dug his fingers into her sensitive flesh, squeezing hard, trying to hurt her, and she howled in masochistic delight just as Doc thrust hard into her mouth and held her head tight against his loins, his cock sunk into the recesses of her throat. “Oh, Motherfucker!” He howled, “I’m coming! I’m fucking coming! Take it bitch! Take it!” She felt his cock leap and lurch in her mouth, then spurt the first gobs of molten jizz down her throat. She screamed again, the sound muffled by Doc’s spewing cock and the rich wad of come pooling in her mouth. Again and again he jerked, pouring his hot cream into her gullet, flooding her mouth with the musky flavor of his semen as she cried out again, sputtering as his load leaked from the corners of her lips. At the same time Z rammed her hard, driving his cock into the deepest recess of her battered pussy and holding it there. His fingers found her nipples and he pinched them hard, sending bolts of pain through her sensation-wracked body, bolts that ignited the fire in her cunt and sent ripples of pure pleasure running through her body. She felt herself shaking as her orgasm seized her, her legs trembling, her pussy clutching convulsively at Z’s invading dick, and she had to let go of Doc’s still-spurting cock to suck air into her lungs, letting the huge puddle of come on her tongue leak over her lower lip and stream down her chin as she screamed out her ecstasy shamelessly. The pain in her breasts felt so good, his cock throbbing in her distended pussy hurt so good, she couldn’t stand it. And then she felt Z’s piece swell in her, and his excited trembling against her ass as he thrust into her with each ejaculation, hot and deep, grunting out his hot pleasure. “All of it!” she screamed. “Give me all of it! You motherfucker! Every fucking drop! Fuck me! Fuck me!” He slapped her ass again, slapped her hard each time he came, making her ass burn with a fire that joined the fire in her cunt and blasted her to impossible heights of pleasure. The feel of him coming, the image in her lust-crazed mind of her taking him on her knees in this filthy room, her face and lips smeared with Doc’s hot come, her ass tilted up like a bitch in heat as he poured his gism into her, was all too much. The floor heaved beneath her, the world darkened to a blur of purple and green as she screamed out her obscene ecstasy and rocketed away into a world of pleasure unknown. She was dimly aware of Doc getting up, of Z pulling his flaccid cock from her pussy, trailing streams of come across her ass and getting unsteadily to his feet. But for a long time she just lie there on her knees, her ass in the air, her cheek on her hand as the throbbing pleasure in her body diminished, diminished, and trailed away. She fell over onto her side and drew her knees up, feeling Z’s come dripping from her pussy and leaking down her thigh. She licked Doc’s salty come from her face with her tongue, her eyes closed, savoring the taste. Her body ached, her breasts and nipples throbbed in the aftermath of pain, her lips were raw and bruised, but her mind knew a strange and wonderful peace and satisfaction. She did not care what they did to her now. She felt like she could float on this cloud of sexual bliss forever. Eventually she became aware of Doc’s voice, in a tone she had not heard before. She could just see him from where she lay, and he was talking into a cell phone which he held against his shoulder as he stepped into his pants. “Yeah, hey man, how you doin? Yeah. Who’s there? Yeah? Yo, you dudes want to get laid? Some prime ass down here. That’s cool, man. Bring ‘em all, bro, bring ‘em all.”