A Birthday Fantasy 004

Chelsea lost count of the cocks that had impaled her cunt and assaulted her throat, or how much cum she had swallowed. The group of men were all now standing around the bar, drinking and laughing having satisfied their initial lust with she and Twilla. Chelsea lay still bent over the back of the couch. She could see Twilla laying crumpled on the floor in a pool of cum. She was breathing but not moving. Chelsea could feel cum running down both her thighs as it leaked from her pussy. Much of the effect of the meth was beginning to wear off. The consuming need to orgasm was almost gone, but now she was filled with frustration at not having cum. She heard one of the men speak to Tig.

"Hey! That fat bitch hanging back there is awake."

"Chelsea raised up enough to look back at Lucille. She was indeed awake, but didn't seem to be cognizant. She looked confused, her head turning from side to side. As Chelsea watched, Tig walked up to the obese woman hanging by her wrists and now moaning. The rest of the group followed.

Tig grabbed one of her huge sagging tits and squeezed it as he twisted it violently. Lucille's eyes flew open, and she screamed.

"You awake, you fat pig?"

Lucille stammered.

"Tig... Ti...Tig. She made me. She threatened me... Please Tig."

Tig snarled as his hand twisted the now grotesquely shaped tit even further.

"You fat fuck. I know what happened. You gave that cunt a rock of my cocaine. That shit is for selling to customers just like your fat ass and stinky cunt."

"Please Tig. Never again. I promise, please."

"You can bet your fat whore ass it ain't gonna happen no more."

He dropped the tit and she groaned. Chelsea watched as he opened a drawer. She saw him take two tennis balls and what looked like a sock from the drawer. He moved back in front of Lucille and dropped the two tennis balls into the long athletic sock and then knotted the opening. He grasped the knot and swung the sock in a tight circle forcing the balls to the toe. Lucille watched and began to plead.

"NOOO. TIGGG... NO... not that... Please... not the balls... Please!"

Without a word, Tig swung the sock behind him and then brought it around. It landed across one of Lucille's tits and under her armpit. She screamed and her whole body bucked as she jerked. Almost immediately Tig swung the sock again. This time the balls impacted her back just over her kidneys. She screamed again. The process repeated itself for the next hour. Tig would pause when she seemed to pass out, often tossing water on her to revive her enough to satisfy him to continue. At one point, he instructed two of the men to grab her huge ankles and lift her legs out in front of her and spread them wide. Chelsea watched as he used the sock and balls on her thighs and directly on her cunt until it was a red swollen nasty looking mess. It was during this that she lost control of her bladder and pissed. Tig had laughed. The men had dropped her legs causing her to swing back and forth from her arms which by now, supporting her enormous bulk, had to be in agony themselves.

Chelsea was sure that when he was finished, there was not a square inch on the woman's body that wasn't bruised and tender. She had again passed out and he let her hang there. Moving back to the bar, Tig announced to the group that he had Viagra and other sex aids if they needed it. After another round of drinks, they had looked at Chelsea and Twilla, who had finally come to enough to sit up.

The men drank, did drugs and talked for a while longer. Chelsea had turned to sit on the table and Twilla had joined her. They managed to chat quietly for a bit.

"What you think he will do with Lucille."

Twilla had looked across the room at the fat woman groaning softly.

"Not much tellin'. That mother fucker is stone cold mean."

"How long do you think this will go on?"

Twilla looked at the bar.

"Until they are too stoned or drunk to walk over and fuck you."

Chelsea looked at the group. None of them seemed anywhere close to that point. She shivered as she considered what might happen next. Twilla touched her arm.

"Just try not to make'em mad. Do whatever they want. It's better than if you piss'em off."

Chelsea nodded.

The men had been quiet for several minutes. Chelsea heard Tig raise his voice.

"Juk. You da groom. No body done fucked dat white bitch in the ass yet tonight. I bet it almost back to normal after last night. You think that whore's ass can handle your cock."

Chelsea looked at Juk, built like his brother, massive. She had seen and experienced Tig's cock. Surely Juk's couldn't be any bigger.

"Less see bro. Y'all turn that bitch over the edge of that table and le's look at dat ass."

In seconds Chelsea found herself bent over the heavy table, face down and her legs pulled apart. Hands pulled her ass cheeks apart as others held her arms and shoulders pressed tight to the table. She felt a thick finger slip into her asshole, scraping its way inside. Chelsea gritted her teeth.

"Man, that is a tight hole. I dunno bro. I think dis cock gonna split dat whore from her cunt to her backbone."

Craning her head and cutting her eyes she could see Juk walking from the bar toward her. His hand was wrapped around a cock that seemed unhuman. It was both longer and thicker than Juk's. Tig laughed.

"You may be my lil' bro, but you sure got the bigger dick."

Chelsea began to struggle a bit at the thought of that monster being forced into her ass. One of the men holding her laughed.

"Juk! She done seen dat thing and she ain't too thrilled about it going in her ass. Watch her squirm."

Juk laughed.

"Hold dat bitch down. Tig, get dat bottle of lube. I don't want to rip the hide offin my cock and this whore gonna need it."

In seconds, Chelsea felt the nozzle of the lube bottle enter her asshole and the cold slick gel fill the cavity. Whoever was wielding it then squirted a generous amount on the outside of her asshole and smeared it around. The hand wiped itself off on her back. She knew what was next and the hands on her were far too tight and strong to resist so she tried to steel herself for what was coming. She heard a screech and opened her eyes to see two of them men with Twilla sandwiched between them. One was fucking her ass and the other her pussy. Chelsea's attention returned to her own predicament when she felt the head of the massive cock touch her ass. She felt the pressure increase and Juk began to work his cock back and forth. He asshole began to stretch. She felt it tear, a searing cutting pain, long before the massive cock was even close to being fully inserted. She screamed and jerked which elicited laughs and comments from the men. Hands grabbed her waist tightly and she felt the pressure on her asshole relax for a few seconds. The hands tightened on her waist and then her asshole exploded in blinding pain as Juk used his weight and his huge arms to pull her backward as his hips thrust forward. The massive cock hesitated and then crashed through into her ass. She felt another tear in her flesh, more pain and she screamed a long plaintive wail. When the head of the cock drove into her cervix, she screamed again. It felt as if her guts were being pushed up into her throat. She felt the cock slide back until it was almost entirely free of her asshole and then ram forward again.

"Dat is de tightest asshole I ever put my cock in."

"You can check it out against that bitch you marryin."

Juk laughed and slammed his cock in again and then began to fuck her ass in earnest using hard fast strokes. Each time he bottomed out she grunted in pain until she felt him push hard, grinding his cock head against her bruised cervix. It scraped as it rubbed over the now tender opening and then she felt the first flush of his cum. He grabbed her waist and pulled again. forcing his cock tight against her cervix as he sent jet after jet of cum against her puckered inner opening. She felt him pull his cock free and she moaned as her ass was relieved of the massive member.

Juk pulled his cock out of her and looked down. Immediately cum started to stream from her ass, streaked with blood from the tears he had inflicted on her asshole. He wiped his cock against her thigh.

"Well brother. That was the best I have had yet. All you other fuckers line up and get some of this. I know that all yalls little peckers will just bang around inside after Juk done reamed this bitch clear to her womb."

Everyone laughed but the line formed, and Chelsea began the marathon ass fucking from the men. It continued for several hours as some came back for a second go. When the last one was done, she was barely cognizant. She heard Tig through the misty haze of semi-consciousness.

"My turn now. Let's see if you fuckers left anything for Big Tig."

While not quite as intense, the assault by Tig's cock was almost as bad as Juk's. Even Tig and Juk's dad had not been blessed with the tremendously gargantuan cocks. When Tig had finally dumped a load of cum in her ass, she was sure that it was ruined, perhaps beyond repair. The men left her as she was. She managed to turn her head and she saw Twilla. The other woman was laying on a table, spread eagle, her arms and legs hanging over the sides. Her head was hanging back off the edge as well. Cum was puddled beneath her head on the floor.

The men returned to the bar for another round of drinks. Tig had opened a box of long fat cigars and all of them were now smoking as well as drinking. They laughed, talked loudly and continued to drink. It was evident to Chelsea that they were now quite drunk and most likely high as well. She sensed they were getting to a most dangerous stage. She laid her head back down on the table and laid still. She heard Lucille sob behind her but didn't lift her head to look. Tig heard as well.

"Well. sounds like the fat sow is awake again."

He walked toward where Lucille still hung. The rest of the men followed. Tig again lifted one of her massive breasts, the nipples and areola almost the size of small saucers. He circled the breast with his thick fingers and squeezed. Lucille whimpered.

"You gonna remember who is the boss roun' here and who owns everything in this place including your black ass?"

Lucille managed to groan a reply.

"Yes sir."

"I'm gonna give you something to remind you."

Chelsea had turned her head to the other side and laid it back down on the table. She could see Tig and Lucille though they seemed to be turned on their sides. She watched as Tig took a long draw on the cigar and then carefully trimmed the ash from the end. The next time he inhaled the end of the cigar turned into a cherry red glowing spot. Chelsea winced as she watched him place the hot end of the cigar directly on the nipple that he held in his hand, squeezed taut. Lucille screamed in abject agony. She tried to pull away but Tig held the breast tightly and pushed the cigar against her nipple, twisting it. He then released the now scorched tit and reached for the other one. Lucille again began to beg to no avail.

He repeated the whole action. Chelsea could hear the slight sizzle of the nipple flesh as it burnt, and the wisps of smoke rose. Tig ground the cigar against it. When he dropped it, flecks of ash or scorched flesh fell away. Lucille was again unconscious.

Tig looked at her, disgust on his face.

"If any of you fuckers want to fuck that pig, you can take her down."

He turned and went back to the bar, picked up a bottle of vodka and turned it up to his mouth taking several long pulls. The others looked at Lucille and then left her there as they returned to the bar. The drinking continued. In time Chelsea, who still lay quiet on the table saw Tig stagger around the bar and lurch toward her. He was now quite drunk, stumbling and weaving. He reached down and jerked her to her feet by her hair and then turned to the others who were at least as drunk as he was if not more so.

"What we gonna do with this white bitch?"

The men looked at her and she trembled a bit. They discussed several suggestions, none of which seemed to satisfy Tig. Finally, Juk, who was having to lean on the bar to support himself, grinned.

"We done reamed her asshole, stretched her cunt and filled her belly with cum. What else is there?"

Tig looked at her.

"Gots to be somethin'."

No one spoke. Tig squinted trying to focus his eyes.

"Juk. Look under the bar. That rope still there?"

Juk knelt down and when he rose, he had a hand full of rope.

"Yeah."

"Get that other bitch and bring her over here."

Several of the men stumbled across the room and pulled Twilla to her feet. Tig pushed Chelsea toward Juk.

"Hold this bitch."

Juk held Chelsea as Tig worked to untangle the rope. When he had it sorted, he looked at Twilla and Chelsea. He fashioned a slip noose and put it around Twilla's neck. He tossed the rope over a pipe running across the ceiling.

"Get two of them chairs and bring them over here."

Two wooden chairs were brought as he instructed. Tig placed them bac

k to back.

"Lift dem whores onto dem chairs."

The men put Chelsea and Twilla on the chairs. Tig pulled the rope taut around Twilla's neck and measured a length of rope around Chelsea's neck. He fashioned another noose and slipped it around her neck as well. He then took lengths of rope and bound Twilla's and Chelsea's hands behind their backs, bound their knees and their ankles. The two women stood back-to-back, noosed together and balancing on the wooden chairs. Tig stepped back and looked at them, seemingly satisfied.

"Tig. What's the deal?"

Tig turned and grinned.

"We leave them. It's time to clear out of here. We got to be gone in two hours. Get your shit and let's hit the road."

"What? We leavin' all dis. We gots a good deal here."

"Yeah. but things is gettin to hot. The cops been sniffin' around the neighborhood for a couple of weeks. They knows somethin' and when somebody finally finds that fat skank over there, all hell is gonna break loose. I got a nice stash. We take a break, go to Mexico for a couple of weeks and then set up again sommers else.

Chelsea stood, struggling to keep her balance on the rickety chair. She could feel Twilla behind her doing the same. She knew that if either one of them lost their balance it would be the end of them both. She watched in horror as the men all struggled up the stairs and heard the steel door slam shut. The room got deathly quiet, except for the sound of the occasional moan coming from Lucille.

&&&&&

In the basement of the building next door, Dan sat in the heavy chair, still bound. He had not been free of the chair in more than 40 hours. He had pissed several times. He sat now, his head hanging down on his chest, his body having forced him into sleep. When he roused, he looked around. It took him several minutes to gather himself enough to realize something was different. He blinked his eyes and finally saw that all of the TV monitors on which he had watched Chelsea were gone. The chair where a man had always sat was empty. The entire place was quiet. He craned his neck around and saw that the door was standing half open.

He began to struggle with the plastic straps that bound him to the chair. One of the arms of the wooden chair was loose and he began to work the joint of the chair until he could pull the arm free of the supporting post. He worked until he slid the plastic tie free of the arm of the chair. With one arm free he looked around. Laying on the desk was a forgotten screwdriver. After using his weight to scoot the chair closer he could just barely reach the tool. With it in his hand, he used it to finally break the plastic straps holding his other wrist and ankles. He stood, moving cautiously and looked into the hallway. He could see the stairway leading up. It was silent and dark. He eased out of the door and up the stairs. Several times the stairs creaked, and he stopped wincing in the dim light at the sound. At the top, he pushed the door open a few inches and peered through the crack. The room beyond was empty. Taking a chance, he moved quickly through the room and out into the alley through the door the men had brought them into the building two days before. The alley was empty, and it was dark, just before dawn.

Back inside, he stealthily moved along the wall until he found the door he had seen Chelsea go in. He tested it and found it open. He was soon inside, moving quietly through the silent empty building. All the furniture he had seen on the video feed was still there. The whole place seemed to be empty. Fearing the worst, he suddenly sprinted up the stairs and started checking rooms. He found one with cameras still mounted on the corners and realized it was the one he had seen. Chelsea was not there.

He ran back downstairs and looked through all the rooms on the first floor. They too were abandoned. Finally, he came to the heavy steel door. in the back hallway. He unlocked it and pulled it open. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw Twilla and Chelsea, standing shakily on the chairs. The room stank of piss, stale bodies and alcohol. Realizing the predicament that Chelsea was in, he ran across the room. He could not quite reach the rope around her neck and had to get a third chair on which to stand so he could remove the rope from both Chelsea and Twilla's neck. He then untied their legs and arms and helped them down to sit on the chairs. Chelsea was sobbing and collapsed into his arms.

"Dan. I thought you were dead."

"Just a little worse for wear."

He held up his hand, bandages with a now blood encrusted strip of fabric.

Chelsea sobbed again and then her head snapped up.

"Lucille!"

She pointed to the woman still hanging in the back. Dan ran back and looked. He carefully reached up and touched her throat seeking a pulse. He tried again on the other side. He turned and walked back to Chelsea.

"She is gone."

Chelsea sobbed even more. Twilla sat in a state of shock herself. Dan thought hard.

"I got to call the police."

Chelsea nodded. He left to find a place to call for help."

It took him almost 20 minutes to find a place in that neighborhood to make a call. By the time he walked back to the building, the street and alley were covered with police cars and ambulances. Two cops met him and hustled him to an ambulance despite his protests that he wanted to check on his wife. The paramedics assured him that she was in another ambulance, in good hands and being taken care of. While the paramedics were looking at his hand, a police lieutenant opened the door to the ambulance.

"Can you talk?"

"Yeah."

The lieutenant climbed into the ambulance. Under his questionsing, Dan related the whole incident from the time He had gotten home from work that Friday afternoon until he found the women in the basement. The police detective took notes, asking more questions.

"I'll have more questions. I think now the paramedics want to take all of you to the hospital."

Dan nodded.

Days later, Chelsea and Dan were back home, still traumatized. Chelsea had undergone surgery to repair damage to her anus and her pussy. Dan's finger had required minor surgery to close the skin over his stub of a little finger. Dan was still not back to work. They had talked about the whole incident. The police had termed the incident a kidnapping even though they had gone initially of their own accord. It didn't help them to cope. Chelsea still woke up from nightmares.

Dan was having trouble himself. He understood that what had happened was not what Chelsea had intended at all. But he couldn't get the images of her rutting like an animal in heat with the men in the whorehouse. He had not been able to see what she had done in the basement, but he had heard her description as she made her statement. Her unabandoned lust after using the meth had left vivid images in his brain that tormented him.