Seeing Gratification

After struggling back into my soiled fatigue pants, I wobbled up the darkened stairways and was waiting in the Jeep's driver seat when my CO joined me. I didn't look at him as he settled into the passenger side, nor did I say a word during the entire drive back to headquarters. I felt him staring at me the whole time, but didn't trust myself to look back. I was totally disgusted for the way I'd acted. In one afternoon, I'd cheated on a faithful husband of five years, damaged any career I might've had, and let my Commanding Officer fuck me almost into a state of unconsciousness, like some mongrel bitch in heat. That just about covered it.

I was looking at the road, but seeing that monstrous black cock dangling in front of my face every time I blinked my eyes. How much sperm can one man generate, anyway? Nearly an hour had passed and I still felt a sticky trail seeping from my swollen pussy lips and running down my thigh. Raped again! I shivered, forcing the thought away. Just like a fucking whore, I berated myself. A cheating, whore!

Pulling up in front of the Headquarters building, I sat stoically, staring straight ahead until I felt him get out. I felt he wanted to say something, but I quickly saluted very formally, and drove away. It was late so I went straight to my hooch, ate cold MREs and lay on my cot. Sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes I saw images of Major Ross standing behind me, buried up to his balls, and me screaming my lungs out in a mindless orgasm. Beating on my pillow did no good. I sat up on the side on my cot until exhaustion finally overcame me and a troubled sleep took me under.

I skipped breakfast and went to check the detail board. My name was glaringly missing. You son-of-a-bitch! I thought. If he'd wanted to make a clear statement that I had fucked him, he'd just done it. I was pissed. I saw Sara starting one of her details and asked if I could help. Then I sought out others and helped them, explaining that the Major had given me a day off to work on the movement plan. I don't think they bought it, but it was the best I could do. Just before noon, the Company Clerk walked up and told me to report to the "Old Man."

I knocked, removed my hat, went in and saluted smartly. He returned it and said, "Sit." I did, staring straight ahead.

"I wanted to see how you were doing today, Stacy."

His use of my first name, instead of just my rank and last name, wasn't lost on me. From the corner of my eyes I saw he was smiling, teeth shining brightly in his dark face.

"I'm fine, Sir."

"Relax. No one's around. It's ok." After a moment he said, "Look at me, Stacy. You haven't looked at me since we left the old jail."

Grudgingly, I turned at looked at him. He was smiling warmly. "That was the most interesting day of my life," he said. "The most enjoyable, too."

"I'm glad, Sir, because it'll never happen again."

"Let's not beat around the bush, Stacy. I saw your face in there, the turmoil you were going through. I want to know why. Tell me!"

I'd never discussed it with a soul and I don't know why I did this time, but I suddenly found myself unloading about my earlier rape and my shrink sessions afterward. Then I went farther and told him how I'd been overwhelmed by all those feelings in the old jail's dungeon the previous afternoon. Tears finally spilled over near the end, and he patiently waited until they stopped.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Stacy. I mean that."

I wiped my tears on my sleeve. Soldiers don't cry. "And Margie?"

He laughed. "Margie is just Margie. No comparison. She's a pretty little air-head who loves to fuck. You're different, and in another class entirely! You're intelligent, classy, extremely competent, and, I might add, achingly beautiful on top of it!"

I stiffened my backbone a bit. "I won't be your whore, Sir."

He studied me for a moment. "No, you won't. I can see that. But I will fuck you."

"No."

He smiled maddeningly. "We'll see," he said. "I can see it's the opinion others have of you that's most important to you. That's admirable. What can I do?"

"For starters, you can put me back on the duty roster. Then you can go back to treating me like all the other soldiers. They notice things like that."

"Okay. What else?"

I'd expected more resistance. "That's it, except no more sex."

His eyes were staring right through me, and I started to squirm a bit. "You need what we did yesterday," he finally said. "You look more relaxed and at ease now, than you have since arriving. You need it."

"No."

"Yes."

"Please don't do this, Sir."

"Call me John when we're alone. John Ross." When I didn't answer immediately, he said, "Have you been thinking about what happened?"

"No."

He laughed. "Lair. You think about it all the time. Probably doing it now. Are you wet?"

I sat up straighter. "Is that all, Sir? If it is, I'm leaving."

He suddenly became all business. "I have to meet a police official about signing for the old jail building today. I need you to inventory everything in the basement of the jail, while I'm doing that. 1400 hrs."

"Please," I almost whimpered. Whatever happened, I didn't want to ever go back to that place. The last time had been disastrous. His face told me I had little choice though, just staring at me in answer. I slumped forward in defeat.

"What do I have to do?" I conceded.

"An inventory of everything in the basement. Leave the clipboard on the table there."

"Is that it?"

"No. Then I want you to get undressed, leave your stuff with the clipboard, go into one of the cells and snap on the collar. Wait for me on the sleeping mat until I get there." He grinned. He was joking. No, he wasn't!

I stared back at him with my mouth partially open for a moment, and then whispered hoarsely, "You're out of your f . . . your mind. Sir!"

The smile never left his face. "Just do your job, Specialist. Dismissed."

I saluted sharply and he returned it. I did an about-face and stormed out, furious. Seething, I entered my hooch and threw my hat at the far wall. I noticed my hands were trembling badly. I realized I was also pretty much trembling all over. Glancing at my watch I saw I had less than an hour to pull myself together. Okay, I'd inventory his fucking building, because it was an order and I had no choice, but if that black son-of-a-bitch thought I was going to do anything else he said do, he was going to be disappointed.

There were four bearded guys in dirty robes near the jail's entrance when I arrived. They stared at me much like the sewer workers had at the lake the day they raped me. An unwanted shiver ran up my spine. I was suddenly glad I was packing the .45. They all probably smell like goats, I thought as I unlocked the jail door with the key Ross had given me. Inside I quickly relocked it, standing with my back against it as I took a deep breath, relieved to be inside.

I traversed the two stairways with trepidation, finding the big room that I mentally called "The Dungeon", much as we'd left it. The mental image of me constrained in that sexual contraption with Ross feeding me his enormous cock, momentarily flashed across my mind, causing me to suck in some the stale dank air. The place still seemed terribly "charged" to me; its history of sex, terror, and helplessness seeping from its unsavory pores. Hell, I was even "charged"! How could a place of such evil intent, elicit this kind of reaction in me? Why was I getting wet and excited just from being here? Sick, sick, sick.

I stopped at the barrel with the two phallic devices on top, just staring at them, wondering what to call it on my inventory. Ross had said they were electric, controlled by the box on a nearby wall. I walked to it, found several buttons and a knob, turning it on. The rubber dildos started gently vibrating. I turned the knob and they went faster. One of the buttons made first one, and then the other, begin to wiggle. My heart accelerating, I quickly turned it off.

The dildos were made of a hard black rubber substance, sticking up through holes and attached somehow inside the barrel. Attached to the bottom of the large one was a leather barrier of some kind, about four inches high, wrapping around it in a half-moon, away from the base. I wondered what that was for. Both inserts looked well-worn. The butt-plug was stubby and fat with a flared-end to hold it inside a person, once inserted. The large one looked exactly like a real penis. Not as large as John Ross had used on me though. The thought came unwanted, and along with it, an almost overpowering urge to climb up there, straddle the barrel and ride it hard. My heart pounding away inside my chest, I forced myself to turn away and continue my chore.

I finished the inventory, making up names for the things that probably had no name, and then placing the clipboard on the wooden table in the center of the room as instructed. My breath was coming in short measured gasps by then and my legs were trembling so badly I could barely stand. I could feel my panties sticking to me. Blanking my mind, I hurried to the stairs and started up them. Near the top, my legs simply refused to work anymore and I paused, glancing back down. From there, I could still see two of the cells with their chains and attached metal collars. I could also see the barrel. My boots felt like lead as I slowly retraced my steps back down to the table.

I stood there for a long time, and then without planning to, my numb fingers began to automatically unbutton the fatigue shirt. Like I was in some kind of a trance I removed my clothing, neatly folded everything and laid them on the clipboard, the .45 and key-ring on top.

Walking into the first cell, I robotically picked up the metallic collar, stared at it for a moment, and then simply snapped it around my neck. The click sounded loud in the hollow room like a door slamming, startling me out of my mini-trance. I immediately panicked! What was I doing? If some of the local police came back and found me like this, no telling what they'd do to me! Yes, there was a telling what they'd do. I knew, and it made me tremble uncontrollably with fear. Near panic now, I tugged at the collar, but it was secure. The keys to unlock it were back on the table with my clothing. A sob slipped from my throat as I sank down onto the dirty mat to wait. Praying Ross would come soon.

The dungeon must've been sound-proofed to hide what went on in there, but I was surprised I never even heard the jail's entrance door open or close. The first thing I heard was hard footsteps coming down the final flight of stairs. My heart pounding in my throat, I was suddenly stricken with terror. Please let it be Ross, I prayed. Please!

It was Ross. He walked silently into the cell and stood gazing silently down at my tear-streaked face. He didn't appear at all surprised that I had obeyed his order to come. I wanted to curse him, but I couldn't. I was just too grateful to see him. Besides that, what a sight I must have been; naked, chained to the wall, on my knees, tears streaking my face. His pants were tented and I could tell he was rock-hard inside, but as I reached out, he moved just out of reach. I whimpered in disappointment, but he was unmoved.

"Be a good girl and I'll give you what you want," he said.

Bastard!

"Say thank you."

I just glared up at him and he turned, headed back for the stairs.

"Wait. WAIT! I'm sorry, for cat's sake! Thank you. Thank you, Sir!"

He paused, came back and said, "Don't test me again."

"I won't," I said hurriedly. "I promise. Please just let me loose."

"You don't want loose," he muttered through his teeth. He looked mean. "You want to be chained-up and fucked like a bitch. Be good and maybe I'll do that."

I watched in fascination as he snapped a leather leash around my neck and released the metal one from my neck. He pulled on the lease until I got to my feet and followed him. Leading me straight to the barrel, he simply lifted me bodily and set me up on it. I screamed as the rubber dildos pressed roughly against both my entrances.

"Please. Please don't do this, John! It hurts! Agggg!"

"It's 'Sir.' Spread your lips and help me or I'll just drop you," he growled.

I did, feeling him guide the small one to align with my anus. Then placing his hand on one of my shoulders, he forced me down on them. I was so wet from an hour of being chained up, that the front dildo slid easily in, but I'd never had anything in my butt before and that one felt like a fencepost trying to enter my puckered little hole. Finally, I spread my cheeks enough for it to slip inside, and it did so with a small pop, drawing another scream from me. At last, I was sitting on the barrel, impaled in both orifices. He quickly bent and attached the floor straps to each ankle. He stood back and admired his work.

"I have to leave for a while," he said. "Don't go anywhere."

"What? Wait! Don't just fucking leave me like this! What if someone else comes in here? The raghead police or someone like that? Do you know what they'll do to me?"

Nearing an all-out panic attack, I had visions of being used by a dozen bearded old men with bad teeth. "Please," I whimpered.

"If someone comes in, just give them a blowjob. You're good at that."

His cruel words humiliated me, made me feel even more like a worthless slut than I already did. I quickly realized that was his intent. He walked to the box on the wall. "Let me give you a little music to keep you company." His grin looked almost evil as he pushed a couple buttons and I felt the butt-plug start a gentle vibration in my anus. Then the one in my vagina began to wiggle around so softly and slowly that it was almost imperceptible.

I watched his back retreat up the dark stairs, and his footsteps fading away until I was alone in the dank cavern. Now that I had a moment to think about it, I realized the two devices were at best uncomfortable, and at worse, painful. I used my hands to lift a millimeter off the barrel, but knew I couldn't maintain that position for any length of time. I didn't have to. Long before my arms gave out, I lowered my ass on the two moving instruments. Not because I was tired, but because they were feeling so good. A tiny moan escaped my lips as I squirmed down on them attempting to mash my clit against the base, catching my breath as a thrill shot through me.

I was helpless, unable to move, and I was being fucked by two foreign objects over which I had no control. It was like I was being raped by them. I moaned again, louder. Helpless. So helpless. Oh god, it felt good being helpless and taken against my will. I knew it was sick, but right at the moment I didn't care! I wanted to cum really bad, but the inserts were moving far too slowly and I didn't have enough leverage to lift myself, or to move around more in order to obtain an orgasm. For the first time I noticed there was a slight rise near the base of the rubber penis that kept my clit from touching it.

I tried shoving my fingers down to touch my clit, and suddenly found what the leather barrier I'd wondered about earlier was actually there for. It blocked my hand from reaching far enough to do the job! Well, what did you expect, Stupid? This is a torture device.

For thirty minutes I struggled attempting to climax, and then when I finally almost reached it, climbing that mountain nearly to its peak, both plugs quit moving - just stopped completely - leaving me hanging. The damn things had been on a timer! Frustrated to the point of being in agony, I slumped forward and sobbed my disappointment into the empty room.

"Goddamn you John Ross," I whispered. "You miserable bastard."

Long afterward, I heard him before I saw him. "Still here?" Ross asked smugly.

"Get me off this fucking thing," I demanded softly.

Smiling infuriatingly, he unfastened the ankle straps and stood back, watching me struggle to dis-impale myself from the rubber dildos, not offering to help me. My knees buckled and almost gave way as I dropped to the floor. Grasping the rubber penis for support, I saw a large wet spot when I'd just been sitting. I know Ross saw it too. He snapped the lease around my neck again and led me to a "D" ring in the floor. There he snapped the lease to it, which forced me to remain in a kneeling position. His zipper was loud in the silent room.

"You've been a good girl. As a reward, you can suck this."

Just like that. Suck my dick like a whore! I wanted to say fuck you, but when he dangled his delicious meaty appendage right in my face I just opened up and engulfed it. After so many hours of unfulfilled frustration, feeling his thick meat sliding over my tongue almost made me swoon with pleasure. I devoured it hungrily for a moment, loving the hardness versus softness feel as it touched the deepest parts of my throat. I'd gag for as long as I could, pull back for an instant, and then without any prompting from him, willingly force my mouth back down on it until it chocked me again. Long slimy strains of slobber ran freely down my chin and over my breasts, but I didn't care. This was what I lived for at the moment.

Finally, I was able to slow down a bit, backing off as I licked the underside of his cock, sucking the fat head gently, savoring the tiny spurts of pre-cum like it was ambrosia on my tongue. Affixed to the "D" ring in the concrete floor and unable to move away, I was in heaven. The word "helpless", kept floating through my mind as I made wet spots on the floor with my fluids. I needed this wonderful thing inside my pussy, hard and fast, but I didn't want to give it up in my mouth yet. I was making little mewing sounds around his cock when it unexpectedly erupted in a torrent, catching me unaware. The thick hot cum spilled down my chin and onto my tits as I hurried to swallow as much as I could. I nearly came from the excitement of it.

After I'd cleaned him up, he dragged me unresisting to some shackles on the wall. When he fastened my hands to them, spread out to each side with me facing the dirty wall, I was too weak to even argue. I felt spacy, my mind still on the one thing that mattered at the moment. I spread my legs and pushed my ass out hopefully.

"Please," I muttered.

He slapped my protruding ass unexpectedly, drawing a squeal from me. "Nasty slut," he said. He slapped it again, really hard! "You are a nasty slut aren't you?"

"Yes," I screamed. "Yes, yes! Will you just fucking do me now?"

I felt him spreading my vagina with his fingers as though conducting an inspection, the cool air rushing in as he studied my opening for more than a minute. I felt humiliated, debased - but terribly excited. He was intent on humiliating even farther.

"Your wet sloppy pussy need something in it?" he said.

My legs were trembling with unnatural need. "Yes, please. Please," I pleaded softly.

He laughed. "I told you that you need this. Now that you've found it, you'll never be able to go back to the way you were. Do you believe me now?"

"Please," I muttered again, near tears now.

I felt him move behind me, and then he just slammed his entire length inside me without warning - fully two pounds of dick - with no warm-up! It felt like a fencepost! I screamed and fought my restraints as he savagely hammered his thick meat into me. I climaxed almost instantly. In fact, he took a long time to fill my belly with his sperm and I didn't stop cumming the entire time. Twenty minutes later my legs finally gave way and I sank down as far as my wrist restraints would allow, feeling his softening cock pull from my opening with a wet sound. I was totally exhausted, humiliated and unable to move as he wiped his slimy cock in my hair.

"Now you really do look like a used-up little slut," he said cruelly, shoving it into my mouth to be cleaned more. I did it without complaint just to get it over with and be released. "How anything so beautiful could be so nasty, is a mystery," he laughed. I heard him walking away, opening my tired eyes to see.