[darkstalker]

Alicia stares, trying not to think about the men as her body sways to and fro, already tired from the motions, from trying to keep up with the music and from her fear at seeing these men, these very large bulls who are going to rut her at any minute. And her body feels so very tired and sweaty from all the movements she’s had to keep up for so long. So hot and sluggish now. As one approaches her, she thinks, Oh god, she can’t do this! She can’t.
But as a large one walks out before her, she knows she has no choice. He looks like a giant even though some of his hair is already graying. Despite what little limp his muscle tissue has, it still looks very hard and as he comes up behind her, his right hand gripping her stomach, nails digging in and the left suddenly jerking her chin up, she knows she’ll have no choice but to obey if she wants to get out of this alive. He is just too strong.
“Keep dancing,” he whispers.
She does as she is told, swaying her body, moving her hips to the music. “Tell them all what you want woman,” he says, running his hand under her shirt, his mouth nibbling at her ear. What she wants? She wants to get out of here! To forget this all! But.... with a trembling voice, she says, “I- I want you all... to fuck me. Fuck me hard and rough, like I deserve.”
“And why do you deserve that,” he says, running his tongue into the cave of her ear, making her shudder. His right hand is under her tank top now, roughly squeezing and massaging her breast in such a way that it is actually hurting.
“Be-because I’m a fucking whore....” She swallows a wad of spit. Her breast meat is screaming as it is squeezed between those hard calloused finger. It makes this part all the harder for her to say without shrieking. And this part is always hard for her to say to begin with. “Wh-who needs... to be hurt!”
“Why?” he asks, squeezing her nipple between two index fingers, making her wince, a tear forming at her eye. Oh god, how bad is this actually going to be? But she answers, following the script that has been given her. The script she’s been following for what seems like weeks now. A script she sadly knows by heart now.
“Be-because...” She swallows another wad of spit, trying hard not to think of what is coming out of her mouth. “Because.... I’m a cock teasing whore who needs to be punished... for flaunting herself at all of you... and... never putting out!”
“That’s right,” he says while licking her ear, his hand digging into her breast. “And you’re going to be punished. Rough... and hard, like you deserve!”
His hand squeezes at her throat. “What do you tell your master for giving you what you deserve, whore?” he growls.
“Th-thank you master, f-for giving this whore... wh-what she deserves!”
“That’s better,” he says, releasing his grip on her throat. She sucks in sharp breaths of air, sucking in lung fulls, not having realized initially how hard the man had been squeezing.
“Alright,” he says. “Bring out the devices.”
She shudders, trembling at what might be in store for her. “Afraid?” says the man. “Good. I always like my whores afraid.”
She holds back the tears, trying hard to keep from crying. It is all she can do to keep from it. From the fear clawing at her insides, wanting to tear her apart.
These men... what do they intend to do to her?
“Now...” says the man, releasing her breast and running his hand down her stomach, into her skirt, his fingers suddenly jabbing into her sensitive vortex. “We play a little game here. You follow the rules and you may be let go. Eventually...”
He laughs at that and she shudders, hating the sound of it, hating how it sounds like they will kill her. But she doesn’t know, does she? Oh god.
The creaking of the wheels makes her jerk her head. “Ah,” says the man, a smile crossing his lips. “Our whore is excited! She wants the games to begin already!” There is chuckling around the arena, the men grinning, underwear from several already pulled down, thick cocks being strokes by hard calloused fingers. “Well then...” he says. “Here are your toys.”
Her heart is thundering, beating rapidly as she looks on the cart. On it are three items. A beer bottle, a broken piece of concrete with a twisting metal ream and a large dildo matching the one she’d had inside her, but this one seeming wider and longer then the other, made out of a hard wood. A fourth item is laid down next to the others. A large bowling pin. What on earth can they be imagining to do with those items, she thinks.
The man jerks her head back, smiling. “Now,” he says. “The rules of the game are simple. While we fuck your wet pussy,” and he jerks his fingers up in her cunt, pulling them up so she winces in pain. “And your ass, you won’t be allowed to orgasm. Even once. For every time you orgasm, we will keep you an extra day and you will have to perform for us more and be punished more. And each added day will be worse then the last.”
Tears run down her cheeks at these words. If she can’t orgasm or do something then the pain will be horrible! How can she go through with this?!
“The second part is similar to the first. Each day we will allow you to orgasm on an object. During that time period as we run a train through your mouth, hair, tits and mouth, you will be allowed to orgasm as much as you want on said objects. But you can not stop fucking them, or orgasming until all the men have gone through you and cum over your body somewhere. Then, when everyone is spent... we’ll use you some other way and you won’t be allowed to orgasm anymore? Understood?”
“Y-yes,” she says, swallowing.
“Good,” he says. “Now let’s see which object our viewers choose for you to fuck today?”
Her heart thunders as a camera screen is pulled up with a chart of votes. “And don’t worry,” he says. “We change the objects out each day.”
She swallows, the tears streaming down her cheeks. For some reason... this just makes it worse.

*****