Monica Mortified

[InnocentVirgin]

She'd been here 5 or 6 days, she'd lost count. Her ankle was ringed in steel and a chain bolted to the concete floor gave her about a 10ft radius movement. Enough to use the loo in the corner, the sink, and bunk.

She'd been further disorientated by the randomness of dark and light. Sometimes the dank and chill room was brightly lit, other times completely dark, cave dark.

One moment she'd been living her life, newly divorced, newly employed and patiently putting her life back in order after a failed marriage. Her husband had married her because her father had paid him. She was a mouse. He stayed in her bed, one night, taking her virginity to consummate the marriage and left.

The only consolation she had was he was fired and blacklisted by her father. And that wasn't exactly true was it? She felt a fool and was glad to be rid of him. He humiliated her publicly. Made her more a laughingstock than she was already.

She, Monica, was the non-descript daughter of two socially prominate people. The beautiful people. How disappointed they ended up being in her.

Growing up, petite and flat chested with brown hair and glasses, she was much more interested in books than boys. Her masses of curly hair hid her face and she seemed to shrink in the presence of others.

She assumed she was abducted for ransom.

Her Dad would pay.

----

Getting up on the 6th day was more difficult. Monica was cold and the military green blanket on the cot did little to keep her warm. A breakfast? Lunch? she didn't know... was left by the door. She ate to releive the boredom more than being hungry.


No one had come in the days she'd spent here. Not a voice... Not even a hand did she see, the tray was pushed by pole through the bottom of the door.

She'd cried and begged to be released until her voice broke and she could only wheeze out her pleas. She hummed and slept as much as she could. She jumped up and down to keep warm, she did situps and ran in place, anything to take up the time.

But now.. this SIXTH day, she was humiliated.

Her period started and she had nothing to take care of it. No pads, not even any underwear to stuff with toilet tissue. Normal biological function, yes, but it didn't relieve her shame. Poor mouse.

She finally gave up her pillow - and took the case from it, fashioning a diaper type arrangement to stem her flow.

Another week went by. She started reciting lines from her favorite books and reciting every piece of poetry she'd ever learned, resorting to nursery rhymes when she couldn't think of any more.

And another week...

She availed herself to the stuffs pushed into her cell, shampoo, soap and toothpaste, hair brush and even floss.

She talked to herself endlessly, filling the room with questions, answers, statements.

She went back to pleading and begging. A social recluse, nonetheless, she'd been around people. Even if they didn't see her and ignored her, it was entirely different to be totally alone except for a pole that pushed items at her.

Monica chatted with her mother and father and people she knew and made up their replies.

She started to forget things and her dreams became bizarre.

Her mind would wander and she'd... zone out.

-----------------------------------------------------

The sound of the door opening didn't mean anything at first.

A man in a suit and tie stepped in and locked the door behind him. In his right hand he held a riding crop. "Hello Monica," he said in a deep baritone. "Nice to see you enjoying my hospitality."

She held her knees to her chest and hid her face. His features were indistinct anyway, she didn't have her glasses. And he was probably a dream she reckoned. Her mind had manufactured a few people that came and kept her company.

She didn't feel like company today. She wanted to sleep.

"I'm Mister Parks. I'm your ...host," his voice held laughter.

"You need to get up now."

Monica ignored him.

In a swift seemless movement he had her by the arm, jerking her off the cot. "You have to learn to listen to me," he said as he shook her.


Monica jerked awake and aware... this wasn't her mind.. This was a real person. "I want to go home. Can I go home?"

"You are home, silly girl."

"No, please, I want my house, ...my house." It seemed that he misunderstood, he must have, this wasn't her home.

A swing of his arm and the crop bit her back. "OWW."

She tried to wiggle away but the grip on her arm dug in. "Stop, please! Don't hurt me." Another blow to her back, then her ass. The marks were hectic on her white skin and she flinched back with each blow, screaming with the hurt.

"This is nothing, little Monica," he hissed with a lecherous smile and pushed her facedown on the bed with a strong hand holding her down and lashed at her back and buttocks until she couldn't cry out and only huffed at each blow.

"I plan on breeding you."

[InnocentVirgin]

To be continued.

Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Good or bad.

[jwham]

A very attention-grabbing start … looking forward to seeing where you take it.

[InnocentVirgin]

Monica missed his intent, concentrating solely on her ass and back and the waves of pain that had the unfortunate effect of clearing her head a little and bringing her back from the confusion and delusion she'd experienced.

He held her face to the cot a little while after he'd finished, letting her realize he was finished for the moment. She was so small she'd look positively grotesque pregnant. He smiled as he pushed her over, her ass and back connected with the rough walls and caused her to yelp.

Her hair hid her face and he used the crop to move it away. A half smile twisted his mouth as he saw what the snot and tears had done to her face.

"Get up and wash your face." A forceful hand digging into her arm yanked her up and off the cot. She shrank from him as he wound a fist in her hair, she could be a pretty little thing, if she bothered.

He shoved her toward the sink and carefully sat with obvious distaste on the edge of her cot.

Monica stumbled to the sink her ass and back singing with each pulse of her heat and step she took. How it burned. She washed her face and made an attempt to clean up before bowing her head and turning, unwilling to look at him.

"Come here." Wooden legs took her 5 feet closer to him. He reached out and grabbed her by her pubic hair, drawing her before him where he sat. Monica cried out sharply but cut it off remembering the whipping she'd just received.

A couple of pubic hairs came off in his hand and he looked at them with distaste, wiping his hand on the sheet.

"One of my workers ... will be in to take care of that bloody bush. I'm not trusting you with a razor," he told her as he stood, just brushing against her nipples and breasts as he rose. "You're the kind of sad cow that would slice her wrists, aren't you?"

She flinched and swallowed hard. The thoughts of suicide that had wound their way into her waking dreams were shameful to her.

"Open your legs." When she didn't move, he roughly kneed them apart and stepped back.

She stood knees bent and head bowed, starting to cry again.

He bent slightly to take her entire vulva into his hand, running a finger down her slit before gripping her in a vise like fist. Her animal moan of fear was all he heard and he smiled again.

"You will obey. You won't make trouble." With a savage twist he dropped his hand and strode to the door.

"Punishment is always swift, little mousey cow."

[InnocentVirgin]

Left alone, Monica wrapped herself up in the bed coverings and cried. Her body shook with the sobs and fear of him.

Her hands cradled her sex protectively and her back and ass throbbed with his punishing display. She wished to be away from this dank place. She tried to will herself to be anywhere but here. PRAYED to be gone from here. She tried to envision her own room and her bed but Mr. Parks and this disgusting place stayed and she couldn’t summon any memories beyond this room.

She heard the lights switch off and soon fell into an exhausted slumber that was restless at best with nightmarish images.

She woke to a new voice. A feminine voice.

“Get up.” The blond woman was tall and plump, dressed in a lovely coral blouse and pencil skirt.

“Oh my god! Thank you.. Thank you.” She bolted off the cot and hugged the tall woman who immediately pushed her back and slapped her soundly, putting her weight into it.

The slap clearly stated that the woman wasn’t her rescue and Monica sank to her knees with despair. It must be a servant. There was a man in workman’s clothing standing near the door and with a nod the tall blond woman indicated her desire. He knelt by Monica, his handsome face expressionless, and unchained her leg. “Do as they tell you, Miss.”

“Shut up!” The blond admonished the worker with a sharp tone. “It’s not your business. So shut your mouth and take her into the bath.”

In far too short a time she was stretched out on a table with her legs open and held down by the worker. The blond shaved her leaving only the hair on her head.

She was actually quite chatty. “You’ll be the third try. Let’s hope you are more fertile than the other two." Monica suffered through a douche and enema and the subsequent voiding.

“They didn’t last long. One went crazy and the other ended up with her head bashed against the wall. An unfortunate accident.”

She was led to a drain in the floor and hosed down. The worker dried her off and even brushed out her wet hair. He pulled a long white silk gown over her head. It looked like something a bride would wear on her wedding night. Monica was dumbfounded. Scared enough to do as she was told, this seemed bazaar on so many levels.

“Why are you doing this? You could find so many that would like this ...treatment.” And Monica knew it was true. There were plenty of women that would like to be hit and raped. She’d seen some of the BDSM tapes that her ex-husband had. “Why me?”

The blond laughed sarcastically, “Because you have good blood, my dear. Your family is old and prominent and you have good genes. We need an heir. You are fertile now. He kept you until he could see when you bled,” she paused before adding “You’ll have our grandson or granddaughter. My son can’t wait to meet you.” Her laugh was ugly. This was evidently Mrs. Parks.

It made sense now, why she’d been locked up so long, but it didn’t make sense that they’d have to kidnap a woman for their son. “But...” a hard slap stopped her comment.

“Shut up! Didn't he tell you that punishment is swift? And severe?”

The blond pulled her blouse from her skirt and quickly unbuttoned it, baring her breasts for Monica. Her left breast was perfect but her right was a horror. Livid scars replaced the nipple.

“This was my punishment. ‘HE’ bit it off. Take a good look at it!” she grabbed Monica by the hair and pushed her face nearly into the mangled breast. “That is what happens when you displease Mr. Parks.” Her voice carried conviction. She shoved Monica away and ordered the worker to take her upstairs.

[InnocentVirgin]

In another place and time, Monica would have been impressed with the large house, mansion really. Marble and granite, fine art and tasteful decorating was the rule but it seemed ...unlived in and sterile.

She was marched ahead of the worker and followed by Mrs. Parks' echoing tread. Up a showcase stairway rich with mahogany into a long hall and through a carved door.

They were in a sitting room, decorated in English hunt. Mr. Parks was before a fire with a sniffer of brandy and dressing robe. His legs were splayed and he idly stroked his half-flacid member as he contemplated the flames.

Mrs. Parks cleared her throat and pushed Monica forward.

"I see you met the Misses," he didn't bother glancing up. "And my brother Dean." His brother was a servant in this house? Monica had never heard of such a thing.

"Come here, girl."

Monica was rooted to the spot. Watching his lazy stroking of his cock was scaring her, she dragged her eyes from it and looked at the carpet. Mrs. Parks however took her arm in a meaty grip and pulled her forward. When Monica still balked, Dean took her other arm with an appologetic air and they forced her forward until she stood in front of Mr. Parks, between him and the fire.

She knew her body was clearly outlined by the flames through the white gown and it caused even more red to rush into her face. He'd seen her naked before, had whipped her but it didn't stop her embarrassment and fear, and ...loathing.

"Suck me."

"No." She found she did have a voice. "Please, don't make me do th--" SLAP! Mrs. Parks let go of her arm and delt her a stinging slap, followed by a backhand - SLAP! Both cheeks were livid and Monica started crying, big fat tears gathered in each bright brown eye before spilling and tracking down her face.

She was brought to her knees between the splayed legs of Mr. Parks and Dean pushed her head towards his cock. She begged and cried and the answer she got was Mrs. Parks pinching her nostrils tightly shut until Monica opened her mouth and Dean pushed her down on his cock.

They held her there and finally Mrs. Parks released her nose.

"Suck."

Her lips closed around him and she sucked.

His cock grew and twitched, not that she was expert, it was evident she'd never sucked a cock before, but he loved the power, seeing her terrified and knowing he could rape her, maim her, degrade her, or end her life and never suffer any consequence whatsoever. He gloried in that power.

So he grew hard, and harder still, his cock stretching her little mouth until it looked quite obscene. He had a huge one, long, thick and heavily veined. It was easily twice the length and girth of her ex-husband.

Mrs. Parks took her by the back of her head, winding her hair in her fist and pushed Monica's head down and back up a few times to show Monica the proper form. Then she shoved her harder, holding her down and cutting off her air, choked by that fat cock until Monica gagged and struggled and turned red. They released her suddenly and she fell back coughing and choking, trying to drag air to her deprived lungs as Mr. Parks started laughing.

[InnocentVirgin]

A phone rang and Dean answered it, speaking quietly into the phone but snatches of his conversation could be heard. "...how long?...she's here...I'll tell him."

"Bert says they got caught in traffic after the show and wil be another hour."

Mr. Parks nodded and smiled. "We have time to get to know each other better little Monica...

"Did my gash of a wife tell you why you are here? No?" Monica was too scared to talk, cowering on the floor where she landed.

"I need an heir. I can't father any more children, otherwise, I'd be doing the honors with impregnating you." His eyes narrowed and it was evident that his male pride still stung with his inadequacy.

"So, my son will do the deed... His seed will provide what we need. You will be the vessel. The cunt connected to the womb, so to speak.

"You are here and will live so long as you obey and carry my son's son. You were given drugs that enhance fertility and it's only your compliance I want. You resist, ask my ...bride what consequences are." He nodded toward Mrs. Parks and her face flamed with humiliation and fleeting pain.

"So, we have more time now... I'm going to leave your furtile cunt to my son, but I think I'll take your ass."

Monica heard all his speech with growing horror but outright fight or flight kicked in with the last comment. She bolted, springing up off the floor with every intent to head out the door.

And bright white filled her head as Mrs. Parks laid her out with a hard blow to the side of her head. She was half conscious, dizzy and disorientated as her gown was removed and she was bent over the sofa baring her backside. She swam in a haze until she felt a heavy hand descend on her buttocks with a brutal slap that brought her back to full consciousness. "No, not the whip, you know blood makes him insane... the flogger.... yes that one."

Mr. Parks loved seeing the imprint of his hand on her already bruised ass. The sight alone was enough to start stiffening his cock, grown soft during his confession of sterility.

He wound a hand in her hair and pulled her up to face him, flogger in hand, his face close to hers as he sneered, "You are so stupid, how many times do you have to be told to obey?" He nodded at the Mrs. and Dean and they held her by the wrists, outstretched between them.

The flogging began and so did Monica's dance. Blow after blow and finally her screams became less and less as her body became more welted. Her tits, stomach, thighs and legs were marked most cruelly, her bare sex left for the moment.

He dropped the flogger and stepped near her to rub and massage the most serious welts, digging in to make her whimper and keen.

"Open your legs." She couldn't comply through the pain so they made her. He began slapping her sex, putting his full weight into it, every few slaps he opened her and pinched her small hidden bud, just to hear a new cry.

"Bend her over again." He renewed the beating with slaps on her ass until Monica was too dazed to respond. He stepped behind her and rubbed his erection on her ass and slit, and gritted his teeth. How he wanted to fuck her cunt. Fuck her raw. But he'd have to be satisfied with her ass.

He spat on her rosebud and spat again in his hand rubbing spit onto his cockhead and her puckered hole. Holding her by one hip he guided his cock and pushed with steady force into her tight anus.

Monica revived with the new pain and threw back her head to howl as he ground into her ass and burst through her anal ring. With glee he drove into her, balls deep, grunting with satisfaction as she screamed and then seemed to faint. He looked down to where their bodies were joined and saw he'd torn her asshole and as he began to roll his hips against her, the blood eased his passage and lubricated her, letting him thrust as hard as he liked.

It also excited him, making his cock feel like steel and he thrust in her with more abandon, fucking her ass with a vengeance until he came, huge gouts of ropey cum splashing and coating the inside of her ass. Once, twice, three times he thrust forward, emptying his balls with a primal scream that made Mrs. Parks and Dean cringe.

When he'd softened, he pulled out. "Clean her up, stop the bleeding and take her to Malcolm's room. Get me when he gets home." He dropped his robe and went to take a shower.

[InnocentVirgin]

No feedback here yet except for the so-kind jwham...

Is this worth continuing?

[wolfshark77]

It's good. Please continue.

[Trill]

[InnocentVirgin]

Monica regained a soupy kind of consciousness as she was half dragged from the chamber.

They took her to a bathroom and she stood swaying as Mrs. Parks and Dean cleaned her. She was brought back to reality when they bent her over and applied a harsh astringent cauterizing agent on her tortured asshole. Monica screamed and the sound echoed richly in the confines of the room and stopped only when Mrs. Parks dug her fingers into her throat, “Shut UP!”

Whimpering and crying Monica took the ministrations and suffered their attention until they pulled the gown back over her head, making her stand alone. Her thick hair was brushed and they took great care to make her presentable.

She was in hell and didn’t have the coping skills necessary to compartmentalize what was happening to her. Steady tears leaked from her eyes as she was drawn from the bath and walked down the hallway and up another set of stairs, each step agonizing.

The room they opened left her speechless.

It was a child’s room.

Specifically, a boy’s room. A huge room.

Framed posters of Japanese anime characters and boats and clowns adorned the walls. Built-in shelves held action figures and games, toys and comics. She recognized several state of the art gaming systems with some of the more simple games. Variations of games she herself had had as a child.

Dumbfounded, she offered no resistence as she was led inside and forced to sit on a board antique wooden rocker, but the hurt in her rectum caused her to cry out and raise up quickly only to be pushed down and held. When Mrs. Parks was certain she wasn’t going to be bolting back up they both moved around to either side of the chair to pin her down if she tried to get back up.

Monica’s ass started to seep blood and she took the pain, far too scared to move.

“My son is ...special,” Mrs. Parks voice held little emotion as she went on, “he is challenged. He's 24... with a mind of a 6 or 8 year old. ...I didn’t behave during my pregnancy and I think that was why...“ her voice lost some strength and sounded genuinely human for the first time.

“Mr. Parks is a firm disciplinarian,“ she continued, “consequently Malcolm was born early and not ...right. On the night of his birth...” her voice trailed off and she raised her hand to her scarred breast without realizing her action.

Further reminiscing became moot as the door was flung open and a new duo burst into the room.

A giant of a young man, close to being 7 feet tall stopped before her and looked at her with unabashed delight. He wore a “Got Milk” tee and jeans and carried a soggy cone of cotton candy in a huge sticky fist. His ballcap was worn backwards and he moved with a lack of grace. His face was good looking in a vague way and he absolutely horrified Monica.

“Dismanewbridey?” Monica didn’t understand for a moment and when she did she tried to rise and was abruptly pushed back in her seat, rocking back and crying out as her ass connected with the hard wood of the chair.

Sheprettee wedoidos?

That she couldn’t translate and only understood when Mrs. Parks answered, “Yes Malcolm, you’ll be doing I Do’s”

Oh my god, oh my god... Monica started to rock back and forth on the chair regardless of the pain in her backside and the steady seep of blood onto her lovely white gown.

[InnocentVirgin]

"Talk slowly, Malcolm." Mrs. Parks spoke in a voice that made it apparent she'd spoken the words countless times before. "No one can understand you."

"'kay Mudder." his cheerful agreement came quickly.

"Where Fadder? He stand wid me." On cue, the doorway was taken up by Mr. Parks.

"Ethan," Mr. Parks spoke to the man that came in with his son, "Get Malcolm cleaned up. He's ...eager to bring his bride to his bed." His appearance made Monica cringe and stop rocking.

She tried to fold in on herself, hiding herself but Mrs. Parks and Dean prevented her from any movement. She started sobbing and Mr. Parks was on her in a flash, "Shut up. You should be honored, you sniveling cunt."

Monica's mouth snapped shut and she looked at him with horror.

Ethan brought Malcolm back and they all gathered in front of Monica. Ethan, Dean, Mr. Parks and even Malcolm all had a strong family resemblance. Malcolm was by far the tallest and looked powerfully built for all his guileless demeanor.

Ethan moved aside a bit and asked in an oratorial voice if they were ready to begin.

"Yeah!" came Malcolm's enthusiastic response and he stood before Ethan.

Monica was dragged up and jack-walked until she stood by Malcolm; Mrs. Parks held her firmly and Mr. Parks stood with Malcolm.

NO, No, NO! Monica moaned as she stood. The blood dripped down her legs slowly as she stood.

"Do you promise to take care of Monica til death?"

"IDO"

Monica wasn't asked.

"Do you take this woman as your wife?"

"IDO"

It was clear they didn't want her input.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

Malcolm turned happily to his new bride and smiled a gentle smile for all his bulk.

"Mrs. Parks and I will leave you now... Dean and Ethan? You can stay in case Malcolm has trouble, but no interference, if you interrupt, you'll regret it." Mrs. Parks had seen the blood and refrained from commenting on it as she and Mr. Parks left the room.

Ethan and Dean stood in front of the door after turning down the bed.

"We hafta fuck now. For babies." Malcolm took off his shirt and jeans, fumbling with his disabilities and innate clumsiness but stripping down in the end. His chest was broad and his middle a little soft, but otherwise he was a powerful man. With a boy mind.

His penis was soft and lay in the snarled curls of his groin. Big, even when soft certainly, but Monica couldn't even look at him as she stood swaying, willing herself from this room, from this life even.

She looked into the faces of Dean and Eathan by the door and found them expressionless. It clicked then.

"Please ...Malcolm is it? Don't do this to me..." She moved placing a small hand against his chest in supplication. "Please, help me..."

[prisonerslave]

i am in love with youre story. her innocence is pefect, and this is very surprising

[InnocentVirgin]

"S'ok, we married 'n you my bride now."

He didn't grasp that there was anything wrong with the situation.

Monica knew he didn't understand. She also knew that the two at the door would prevent her from leaving and were there to insure that she was bred proper so to speak.

She began bargaining with herself... If I just let him do it, it will be over sooner and I can try and find a way out... Or I could get him to like me and be my friend and maybe...

Endless scenarios she contemplated in a few moments.

In the end she allowed him to tug her arm until she was by the bed.

"Goan get in." Malcolm made a wide gesture toward the bed and nudged her until she started to get in. He went around the other side and crawled in, moving to the middle of the bed expectantly.

She lay with her arms primly across her chest.

In a flash he was on top of her, kneeing her legs apart looking down at her. She cried out as his weight settled on her for a moment, her ass and back were incredibly sore where Mr. Parks had beat her and Malcolm was quite a bit of weight. He held himself up on his arms with both of his legs between hers, taking most of his weight off her.

"We spo'ta kiss kissy now." His sloppy lips met hers and a huge shudder of revulsion racked her body. She couldn't help but groan.

Monica heard a gafaw from the door, "Suck her titties Malcolm, women like that." Ethan encouraged Malcolm in a slick voice. Monica looked toward him and saw that he watched with a leer. Dean looked at the floor.

Malcolm took up the challenge by lowering his head and mouthing her breasts through the thin gown, sucking enthusiastically while he earnestly rubbed his groin against the bed, then her leg.

Monica willed herself to die.

Bad enough that she'd been taken, stripped, chained, then isolated. Beaten and whipped, then anally raped in front of others. Now a drooling retarded man was going to fuck her and hopefully make her pregnant. She started crying in huge braying sobs.

"It only hurt a little bitty bit," Malcolm looked up from one of her tits, "Mudder says all brides hurt at first." He bent his head to the task at hand, sucking harder and biting first one than the other with more zeal.

"I almost ready, my willie al'mos hard. Fadder sez no call it a willie, IT'S A COCK!," he precisely enunciated those words, his father had probably drummed them into his head, much like the 'talk slowly', "but Mudder do'n like me say that word."

He shifted over on one side and grasp himself, "See? It bigger!"

And it was. Monica tried to backpedaled away from him, lunging and shifting in the bed to throw him off. He held her easily with a forearm across her chest as he tried to soothe her. "It won' hurt but lil'bit." If Mr. Parks was endowed with a big penis, then his son was gifted. Half-erect, it was almost the size of his father's.

"God may take some brains but he makes up for it in cock eh, Malcolm?" Ethan was avidly watching. The comment earned an elbow from Dean.

Malcolm reached and got the hem of her gown, pawing it up to her waist. He grasped his cock in his free hand and guided it to Monica's slit and pushed. His cock slid downward and he tried again after pushing her legs further apart. His grunts of exertion seemed at odds with his actual effort, but he kept poking and prodding at the entrance of her vagina with gusto, getting harder and grunting louder all the while.

He felt around Monica's opening and tried again with a mighty shove that sent his cock sliding harshly against her asshole, the fresh pain made her cry out. Again he prodded with his hefty rod and stopped short to look down between their bodies, trying to understand why he wasn't getting anywhere.

Then he saw the blood.

[InnocentVirgin]

There was a reason Mr. Parks didn't get virgins for his son.

They had a tendency to ...bleed. And his son was special.

Malcolm began to shake and a keening noise came from his chest. In an instant he was on his knees between Monica's legs, rubbing his face into the blood on her gown, pulling and ripping the material until he could suck the blood from it.

Monica recoiled in horror watching him, backing against the heavy headboard. Her eyes rolled to the door where she saw Eathan with his cock in his hand, pumping slowly as he watched with a leer. Dean still looked at the floor.

The blood on the gown wasn't enough for Malcolm and grabbed her, forcing her down as he licked and slobbered up her legs to her ass, grunting and slurping, holding her legs apart with a grip that was impossible for her to break.

She started screaming and startled Malcolm from his feast, he slapped her once, twice, three times to shut her up. "You scared me!" He flipped her over and pulled her to her knees to bury his face between her buttocks, as the blood stopped flowing he groaned his distress and pushed his fingers into her asshole, almost begging for the blood to flow again.

Again and again, his fingers stretched her asshole, renewing the blood he feverishly desired he pulled out and he sucked her ass, moaning all the while.

He didn't leave go from her ass until her knee slid and mashed his fully erect cock against his leg. In a flurry of movement with none of his clumsiness so in evidence earlier, he was between her legs and shoving his massive cock into her dry hole. With every thrust she screamed fresh, and he didn't seem to hear her any more.

He shoved into her until he was balls deep, using his considerable weight to force himself well past the point of when he should have stopped.

Her pain was excruciating.

It didn't stop there either... Once all the way in, he renewed his assault on her asshole, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck the blood off them.

Monica screamed until her voice broke and she went... away. Her mind gave her a room of her own and it was filled with the things she loved. Her only movement was reaction to his thrusting, her face a vacant blob that was pushed down into the mattress on each stroke.

[justmetoo]

Keep up the great work.

[InnocentVirgin]

Slowly she came back. A heavy weight pinned her lower body in place. When she moved and tried to push herself up, she cried out. Pain in every limb, her ass, her pussy, her face swollen.

She opened her eyes with reluctance. All she could see was a part of the headboard and the sheets. 'That's my blood,' she looked in horror. She couldn't move because Malcolm was stretched out over the lower half of her body.

She hitched in a breath and tried shimmying out from under his bulk.

Moaning, she managed to get out from under him.

Her moans brought a response from the door.

"Look who's awake." Monica didn't remember this man. He stood with his feet apart in front of the door. "Get up," he spoke in a soft voice ringed with steel. "Don't wake him."

Monica crawled to the edge of the huge bed and tried to stand, crumbling and crying out. Malcolm shifted on the bed and huffsnorted in his sleep, his hips pumped sheet obscenely for a moment and he was still.

The new man picked her up without obvious effort and took her into the bathroom she'd been in before. She was unceremoniously dumped into a bath and she huddled there. Mrs. Parks appeared on cue and began washing her, her impassive face giving no clues.

"It seems my son wasn't exactly a gentleman." She rubbed shampoo into Monica's scalp. "He gets like that with blood."

She made Monica stand and roughly washed her crotch and made her bend over to look at her ass. Monica gripped the side of the tub and started crying again as Mrs. Parks impersonal hands spread her buttcheeks. The bathwater was tinged with blood. "You'll have to stitch her up, Bert." Her matter of fact voice stated the obvious and she continued, "Bert used to be a doctor, now his only patient is Malcolm ...and you."

"Get out." In her weakened state she couldn't. Mrs. Parks nodded to Bert and he hauled her up, wrapping her in a huge towel.

She was dried and taken back down to the room she'd been taken for her first washing, this time strapped to a table with stirrups.

Mrs. Parks and Bert conferred as they inspected her. And Monica only heard snatches. "Please, can't you let me go home? I want to go home... I want to go home... " her voice grew louder and she begged until Bert gave her a shot.

"I'll stitch her up, she shouldn't have solid food, and she should be given an enema at intervals. Antibiotics. Her vagina is bruised and lascerated but nothing like her rectum, so that needs only cleaning.

"If Malcolm stays away from her rectum, she should be ok for him to use her vaginally."

Mrs. Parks nodded and left him to his work and went to find her husband.

To say he wasn't pleased would be an understatement and Mrs. Parks took the sadist's beating without a sound. It wouldn't have been prudent to point out the obvious - that Mr. Parks had caused this situation with his fucking the girl's ass.

It would have fallen on deaf ears.

[InnocentVirgin]

Words... words... weaving in and out of the buzzing in her ears.

"...gonna hurt, yessiree... lucky, I say...could be shitting in a bag and then where would you be?"

Monica woke to these words that made no real sense. Her eyes were shut but she sensed movement around the room. "Please," she croaked opening her eyes against the bright light, "can't you help me?"

"Help ya? I'm fixing ya ain't I? I knocked ya out, didn't I? I could have kept ya awake and stitched ya." Bert answered in a voice that was out of place to say the least. He could be discussing a carburetor or new speakers or anything but his ministering to a kidnapped, tortured and raped girl. With perfect calm he adjusted the IV drip connected to her arm. She focused on the face with the voice.

"My Dad could give you money, you could call him and I wouldn't say anything about you being here. I would just say you helped me... not anything else."

"I don't think so, Miss.. er.. whoever ya are." He stepped back between Monica's legs and reached up to turn a knob.

Monica couldn't feel below her waist. She could only watch in puzzlement when her belly became distended and bloated. "Wha...What are you doing to me?"

"Enema. Ya aren't gonna be eating solids for a bit and ya were dehydrated, so I'm liquidatin' ya and even put some vitimans and antibiotics into ya.

"Mr. Parks ain't all that pleased ya got busted up back there, even though what I hear he did mos' of it hisself."

"Mister, please, PLEASE! I'll do anything, can't you just help me? PLE..." Her voice stopped with the whizzing clang of a tray and instruments striking the cement floor.

"GODDAM IT. SHUT UP!" he whirled around from the now empty instrument table and advanced on Monica until his face was next to hers. "I can't fucking help myself or my sister, how THE FUCK am I supposed to help you?" Gone was the good ole boy accent. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on her face. His hands dug into his hair and scalp and he turned with a jerk to pace around the table.

"That's my SISTER he's beating and maiming. And I can't do a fucking thing about it. SO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He strode to stand between her legs and lowered the end of the table with a sharp movement sending her lower body down with a crash. He pulled the tube from her rectum and stepped back quickly as she voided.

His sudden temper went the way of the shitty water, his shoulders slumped. "Just do what he wants. It hurts less."

And Bert finished cleaning her up, unhooked her IV and made her ready for whatever was next.

It was becoming too much for Monica. She wondered listlessly how much more she could take and found ... she couldn't seem to care.

[InnocentVirgin]

Led to her 'room' she was chained again. Monica had no idea what time of day it was, or if it were night. She slept some, curled on her side and woke when Dean brought her a tray.

Broth and jello. Invalid food.

Even the smell of it made her start to retch.

He put the tray aside and spoke softly, "You should just do as they say and not make any trouble."

Monica looked up at him, a silent plea.

He shook his head. "I can't get involved with you. He's ... I can't. Just do as he says."

He looked at his watch. "You have 30 minutes until you are expected upstairs. I'd eat something if I were you."

"Angelica.. Mrs. Parks, will be coming down in a few minutes."

He bolted the door on the way out, leaving Monica to sob until her sobs tapered off to sniffles.

BAM!

The door crashed open and Mr. Parks strode in dragging a weeping and disheveled Mrs. Parks behind him. Her hair was in tangles and hid her face, gone was the careful grooming of earlier. He flung her into the room and she went in a rolling heap that ended against the far wall.

"Get up." He went to Monica's cot and looked down at her with contempt.

"I said GET UP, you miserable SLUT. Does every woman have to be so foul?" He yanked Monica up by her hair. "Show her." Mrs. Parks trembled as she fumbled to her knees. "SHOW HER." Her flinch made her head hit the concrete, but she got up and started unbuttoning her dress.

Monica tried not to twist in his grasp but it was impossible not to as he wound her hair in his fist to keep her head toward Mrs. Parks. She started whimpering when she saw the first marks.

Mrs. Parks stood and swayed, her head down and opened her dress. She didn't wear undergarments and it was soon apparent why when she held her dress open.

Her body was a mass of bruised flesh. Bite marks went across her chest down to her belly and thighs. Some were scabbed over, others were blue/black where the flesh hadn't torn, just been bruised. She been whipped, the lashes visible on her thighs.

"Take it off and turn around, Dear." Mrs. Parks shuddered at the endearment, but complied and let the dress slip down her arms as she turned. From her neck to her knees were livid welts, some of these were crusted over with dried blood. The only place not welted was her buttocks.

Bite marks took up the room there.

"Show your face, Darling." Her cringe was horrible. If one listened closely a soft moan of utter defeat would be heard.

"Smile."

Mrs. Parks turned around again and lifted her chin.

Her nose was swollen all out of proportion and her left eye shut. Her lips were cracked and raw looking. She looked like she'd been in some terrible disfiguring accident.

Monica watched in stunned horror. When she realized Mrs. Parks was trying to smile she started to keen. 3 or 4 teeth were missing on the left side of her mouth.

"This is what happens when you don't obey." Mr. Parks got his hand free of Monica's hair and stepped back.

"Get your dress back on ... Dear." He smiled ... almost ...benignly as he watched her slow struggle to bend to retrieve and then get her arms into the dress.

Mrs. Parks did all this without a single tear.

"Go get fixed up... Dear." His voice held humour now. "Monica and I are going to get to know each other better."

Monica huddled on her knees.

Mr. Parks shut the door and stood before it. "Now, stay on your knees and come to me, little slut. You're going to blow me. And it better be the best blow job of my life." He took his cock from his trousers and started stroking it. "I guess I don't have to tell you what happens if it isn't."

[touriquet2001]

very nice story , i hope you keep going IV