Parers Progress

CHAPTER 3

Warning: Non consent/ violence.

Parker regained consciousness and found herself unable to move her arms or legs. She was draped across a small, low, rough sawhorse. She could see that her arms and wrists were tied to the front of the frame and the tightness around her knees suggested that the same was happening at the back. Her head was yanked back brutally and her scalp burned yet again. She stared Lance's erect penis in its one blind eye. She felt Marcia's hot breath in her left ear.

"We have neglected you. I am so sorry. Here you are, a cock hungry slut and we haven't let you have so much of a lick. Open wide."

Parker could not deny that she was a cock sucking slut. She was practised and relaxed her throat and adjusted her breathing so allowing the man to face fuck her without choking her. She had fantasized about being tied up and forced and the mental imagery usually brought her to a shuddering climax. The reality was proving very different. The spine of the sawhorse had forced Parker's breasts apart and Marcia set about kneading them roughly. Then she sucked a long nipple into her mouth and bit down hard. Parker tried to scream with her mouth full.

"For fuck's sake Marcia," Lance shouted, "Wait 'til my dick isn't in the bitch's mouth."

"Sorry, Hun. You know these little sluts like it rough. Pleasure and pain. Enough now, Lance, I don't want you coming in her mouth."

He withdrew with a pop. The end of his penis banged the tip of Parker's nose making her sneeze again. Then she felt something cold running down her butt crack.

Marcia got real close again.

"I've never let Lance up my ass. I know that you love it. My brother told me that you can crack walnuts with your sphincter. So ask Lance. Nicely."

"Please, I don't like anal. Your brother never fucked me. Please let me go. Forget about the fucking car."

"Funny. He didn't tell me you were this stuck up. Lance. The belt."

Parker let out an ear piercing scream as the heavy leather belt struck her left buttock.

Then within seconds a similar blow landed on her right cheek.

"What do you say Parker?"

"That really hurt. I'm not a bad girl, honest. Please. Do what you want, but don't hurt me any more."

Lance took the belt to the top of Parker's muscular thighs.

"Beg," whispered Marcia.

"Please Lance, fuck me," Parker sobbed,"Fuck my whore's ass. Impale me on your own lance."

The man needed no more encouragement. Parker's anus already felt pretty full and she howled pitifully as Lance forced his turgid weapon past her sphincter. It hurt. She felt like she was shitting herself. Parker hated anal sex. She had never got used to it. She usually coped by masturbating at the same time. That was impossible, as her hands were tied. Lance was soon in as far as he was going to get. He started thrusting hard into the tight tunnel gripping the blond's tanned hips hard.

"Oh God, that's so good," Parker panted, "I'm such a whore. I usually take two men at a time. Please Mistress. I beg you. Finger fuck my dripping cunt."

Marcia was so turned on that she joined in enthusiastically, rubbing Parker's clit hard. Hard enough that it hurt. This was no "pleasure and pain" but it seemed to ease the agony in her bottom. Parker concentrated hard and reached her eleventh orgasm of the day. She panted, grunted, moaned and shrieked enough to encourage Lance to fire a great wad of cum into her rectum. Marcia jerked herself off vigorously with her spare hand. Lance withdrew his softening organ and Marcia videoed Parker's gaping anus. A thin stream of semen ran out, then Marcia gasped as a huge turd slipped out and dropped into the dust. Parker sobbed. She idly wondered how she was going to die.

She barely croaked, "Please don't kill me."

Instead Parker was untied and taken by the hand. Marcia took her into the house and showed her the bathroom. Parker was told to shower. When she came out she found a large warm towel, an extra long black T-shirt and a black thong.

Marcia videoed Parker as she dressed but the earlier menace had gone.

"Thank you Parker. That was the best sex I have ever had. We must do it again. You must be starving. There's one more thing I require of you. Then we'll eat. You drive." Marcia was feeling a little bit guilty.

Parker winced as she got into the Toyota. The long T did not ride up too much and her pussy remained covered. Marcia had her drive back across the state line to a small town. Parker recognised the name but had not been there before. They stopped in front of a small tattooing parlour. Parker felt a stab of fear.

"You have a choice, Parker. A tattoo on your ass or a pierced pussy."

No contest

"Pierced pussy, Ma'am."

So Parker had both labia minora pierced. In the front of the shop. With a leering audience. It hurt a lot but she barely squeaked. Marcia videoed the procedure. Parker was given strict aftercare instructions. Marcia then treated Parker to a burger and fries. Parker was too tired to resist as the older woman touched her up under the table. Marcia drove Parker back to her house. Parker was too sore to sit straight and drive. As it was she had to sit with her legs spread and keep shifting from throbbing butt cheek to throbbing butt cheek.

Parker sneaked into the house at about eleven, holding her shoes in one hand. There was a fair din coming from the basement. The flicker of a TV set indicated that her mother was still up. Parker was keen to get to bed. After another shower. She froze when she entered her bedroom and switched on the light.

Laid neatly on the bed was a short sleeved blouse, a push up bra, a gray A-line mini skirt, over-knee white socks, a white cotton thong and flat black shoes. Plus hair bands. Parker shuddered. Maybe she should just go to bed. And risk being dragged out by her hair. And feeling Daddy's belt kissing her already tender buttocks.

So Parker, the little whore, showered and dressed, then put on makeup. Bright red lipstick, mascara and heavy eyeliner. She pulled her hair into two pigtails. She stood up and undid all but one of her blouse buttons. Parker calmly appraised herself in the mirror. A pervert's fantasy schoolgirl. She took a deep breath and set off downstairs.

Her father had clearly been waiting. He gave her a peck on the cheek and squeezed a bare buttock. Parker suppressed a cry.

Mitch Ellison was a tax attorney. He had a small, lucrative private practice. His client base was small; several "family firms" based in Las Vegas. They all had large amounts of tax that they preferred not to pay and Mitch saved them a fortune every year. Some of what Mitch did was completely legal.

The families, upstanding citizens all, were keen supporters of democracy. Mitch facilitated their discreet donations to select politicians and judges.

Parker followed her father to the basement. There, within the fog of cigar smoke sat six heavily built middle aged men. Parkers smiled sweetly, did a little bob and twirl and set about her task as an attentive waitress. With practised skill Parker replaced empty beer bottles and kept bowls of chips full. If signalled, Parker would produce a tiny alabaster tray on which she had expertly laid out two lines of the finest cocaine. Parker politely declined the offer of a line for herself. She was careful always to stand close to the table and bend forward deeply, back and legs kept straight. Some men liked her to perch on their knee and either keep quiet or complement the man on his gambling skill. It was considered bad etiquette to openly maul Parker's bounteous breasts. Touching her tight teen twat was quite acceptable as long as it was done discreetly under the table. Every so often one of the players would announce that he needed some air and excuse himself. No comment was made when Parker left the room a few seconds later. There was a small den in the basement and there Parker would apply "corporate hospitality" with her talented tongue. She always swallowed. Occasionally Parker was required to remove her blouse and bra and drip some baby oil down her cleavage. Sometimes a basic hand job was adequate.

Mitch was always careful to avail himself of his daughter only after his guests had left. That night the Italian gentlemen's limos arrived just after four. Mitch was buzzing and priapic. He had Parker do a slow strip in the kitchen. He was much taken by the red marks on Parker's behind and even more so by her newly pierced genitals. He had her perch on the counter and spread her legs wide. Parker had been warned not to let anyone suck on the rings for a month. She asked Mitch not to lick her slit. He merely took both rings between his teeth and pulled. Parker screamed and begged him to stop. Her mother's TV got a lot louder. Mitch was impressed by how stretchy Parker was.

Next she was made to drape herself across the breakfast counter. Mitch took her up the ass without any lubrication. Parker screamed even louder. She failed to relax her sphincter and tore. The blood at least lubricated Mitch's plunging cock. Parker had sensibly emptied her bowels earlier. Mitch pounded his little girl and she sobbed quietly. Finally her rectum was filled with seed for the second time that day. Mitch had Parker lick her blood off his cock.

"Reminds me of when I popped your cherry," he laughed.

Parker waddled to bed, a large glass of ice in one hand. Her mother had turned her TV down again. Parker laid some towels on her bed and lay on top of them. She had squeezed several ice cubes between her buttocks and the fire in her asshole gradually subsided.

Parker fell into a fitful sleep and awoke at midday. The house was silent. She got out of bed and fell to her knees. God, her ass hurt. The last time it had hurt that much was when she had been....well....kicked by a horse. Her pussy was only marginally less painful. Parker shuffled around to the mirror, on all fours and by craning her neck could see four livid red marks on her buttocks and upper thighs. When she pulled her butt cheeks apart, her normally milk chocolate colored starfish was purple and puffy. Her labia, normally dark pink, were an angry red. By using a hand mirror she could see that her dad had turned the neat little holes in her flaps into reddened slits. There was dried blood on the surrounding skin. The piercing man had laughed when he told her that genital piercings rarely got infected.

"You'll be washing them pretty regularly, girl. With sterile liquid."

Parker's bladder was full to bursting. She crawled to the bathroom and duly washed her labia with concentrated urine. Her kidneys seemed to have produced sulfuric acid as she slept. Parker wailed.

Once she had stopped hyperventilating, Parker limped slowly downstairs to get more ice. She helped herself to more Dilaudid and went back to bed. She fashioned a makeshift diaper that held the ice against both her abused orifices. Parker was soon asleep again. She woke again at six and did another agonising pee. She put on an old T-shirt and hobbled downstairs to get more ice and a drink. Her mother walked in and looked at Parker as if the girl had just crawled from beneath a stone.

"My God Parker. You look disgusting. What would happen if I brought a client home? For God's sake have a shower and do your hair."

For the first time in ages, the woman made Parker cry. Mrs Ellison made no attempt to console her daughter. Considering Francesca Ellison's Sicilian roots, she was icy cold.

As Parker returned to her bedroom her cell rang. It was Stacey. Parker broke down and sobbed incoherently. Stacey was at Parker's house in fifteen minutes. She took one look at her friend and bustled her into her mom's old Buick. She did not even let Parker get changed.