torn-down
NON CONSENT STORIES

Torn Down

Torn Down

by deathwaler26
15 min read
3.63 (52000 views)
adultfiction

She wandered out of the parking lot of Platinum Playmates with her copper hair windswept all around her. It was two in the morning and she had just finished cleaning up after everyone else left the club. She may not have been one of the dancers, but considering her waitress uniform was basically a sleeveless white translucent dress shirt and red hot pants, she knew she got almost as much attention as they did.

Unfortunately, it was only 30 degrees and she forgot her coat, so she was shuffling back to her car with her arms crossed and goose bumps clearly showing on her bare arms and legs. Just a few more feet to the car, she thought to herself.

She didn't notice that there was something rustling underneath a dark blanket in the backseat of the car, but with the black leather seats, how could she? She did, however, think it was peculiar that the doors had somehow been unlocked.

"Thought I locked the car..."

Once she entered, she was in for another shock. It looked like someone had tried hot-wiring the car, but stopped after ripping off the covering behind the steering wheel.

"What the f---"

She didn't even have time to finish when suddenly she felt someone's cold hand grab her chin and yank her head back. She started to scream, but then a cloth was placed to her mouth to muffle her sounds of protest. It smelled horrible, vaguely reminiscent of gasoline. She panicked and thrashed about in the driver's seat, wishing someone else had stayed behind at the club...wishing that the police were patrolling the old K-Mart plaza a block away from the club...wishing her husband was there...wishing...

Then it all went black.

***

She woke up to the feel of a boot nudging her. She could barely make out the sound of a harsh male voice saying something, but she was far too groggy to understand what he was saying. There was also the sound of a television making white noise somewhere far off. She groaned and tried to get up.

But she couldn't get up. Something was holding her by the neck. Was it a hand? She reached up and suddenly the boot she felt nudging her a second ago struck her firmly in the stomach. A groan of pain escaped her lips as the fuzziness slowly started to wear off.

"Don't you touch that chain, bitch!"

She heard that loud and clear. It was almost as forceful as the kick she just felt as she slowly and agonizingly rolled over onto her side. She could barely see anything, but she looked down and was shocked. She had been stripped naked. Her breasts swayed to the side along with her, and her pierced nipples were hard as rocks from the cold air, which made them sore. Not only was she totally nude, but a metal collar had been put around her neck and she was chained to the wooden floor!

Whimpers started escaping her lips as she frantically started moving to cover herself, but then she screamed out as an electric shock ran through her. She crumpled back to the ground, sobbing from the sudden jolt.

"You ain't going to touch yourself neither." The man said. She tried looking up, but all she could see was a strobe light shining in her eyes. It was far too dark to make out anything else.

"I-I d-d-don't...I don't have a-any money...but I-I could..." she struggled to find the words, not even knowing what to say.

"You damn right you ain't got no money! I checked your purse and all I found was ten bucks and some change!" The voice was harsh and accusing as he interrupted her. "That's all right though. 'Cause we're gettin' ready to get to know each other real good."

"Butβ€”" she started to protest again, but her words were cut short by another electric jolt which felt like it went on for an eternity.

"But what? " the voice came through clearly over her excruciating screams. "You think you're getting out of this? Nuh-uh! You're MY little bitch now!"

She gasped for breath as the electric shock dissipated. She couldn't believe what she was hearing! Where was the police? Where was her husband?! She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a tiny, pitiful cry.

But suddenly that cold hand came out from behind the strobe shining in her face and began caressing her cheek. She cringed at the touch, both because it was almost freezing and because it was completely foreign. What was even more unsettling was the man's tone completely changed to an almost soothing manner.

"Shh...don't you worry, Becky. I'm gonna take good care of you."

How did he know her name? Who was he? She whimpered again, and then the foul smelling cloth was placed against her face again. She tried struggling, but her body was far too tired at this point. A few seconds later, everything went black.

***

She mumbled to herself sleepily and looked over at the one window in the room. It was daylight.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but a Dixie cup filled with water and a bologna sandwich were waiting for her a few feet away when she woke up. She gingerly began to crawl toward the food, only to find that the chain cut her off right before the meal was in her reach. She whimpered and struggled, using her right foot to try and drag the food forward.

Suddenly, that strobe light went right into her eyes again, almost blinding her. And the cloth came up to her face again...

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***

It was night again. How long was she out? She didn't know. But she couldn't move her legs or arms. She looked down and realized that her legs were tied in the bent position, with her thighs tied to her ankles, and her wrists were tied to those bindings. She couldn't move very much. It hurt to move, anyway. She was starting to get afraid of moving.

Whimpers escaped again as she looked over to the Dixie cup and the sandwich on the floor barely visible in the dark. She was starving and it was still out of her reach. She contemplated scooting over as close as she could to the food, but she knew that was futile.

She thought she would die from lack of nutrition and/or water pretty soon.

"Hello...? Is there anyone there?"

Nobody answered. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, since she was deathly afraid of that man with the strobe light. But it did mean she was free to try scooting forward. She did so, but it turned out to be even tougher than she thought. It took her an eternity to move a couple of inches closer to the food.

Then she saw the strobe light in her peripheral vision. How long had he been there?

"Goin' somewhere, Becky?"

She felt how dry her throat was as she tried speaking. Her voice came out a bit croaky. "I'm hungry." Her tone was flat and defeated; as if she knew it was totally up to him as to whether or not she would get to eat.

He chuckled. "Oh yeah, forgot that was there. My bad." The strobe light got closer and she could hear his boots sounding against the wooden floor. "You just got to ask real nicely first."

She glanced over at the strobe light, flabbergasted at what he told her to do. He kidnapped her, shocked her, kicked her, kept putting that smelly cloth to her mouth, and NOW he wanted her to ask nicely for food?! "Fuck you..." she hissed. "When I get free..."

Suddenly she felt another electric shock, sudden and quick. "When you get free?" the voice laughed, "You ain't gettin' free until I say so! Now you'll ask nice if you know what's good for you." The final sentence was tinged with a more threatening tone, and she thought she heard the sound of a gun cocking.

Her heart nearly stopped as she looked at him pleadingly. She didn't want to die. "Please...don't kill me...I-I just want the food...please..."

"You just want the food, Becky?" the voice sounded almost sympathetic. "That why you're getting all uppity?" She could hear the man approaching her and then felt the disturbingly gentle touch of a cold revolver muzzle brushing her cheek.

She nodded quickly and whimpered, looking pitiful with the pleading look on her face.

"Poor darlin'." She saw him reach down with a black gloved hand and pick up the sandwich. "Now say 'Becky bitch is sorry, sir'."

She lowered her eyes downward, ashamed that she was being degraded. Her mouth opened to speak, but only sobs came out.

"C'mon, Becky. I know you're scared, but I'll make it all better as soon as I hear you say it." The tone almost sounded encouraging.

She whimpered out in a pathetic, tiny voice, "Becky bitch is sorry, sir..." She couldn't bring herself to look up at him. She felt totally humiliated as tears ran down her face.

"Good girl." He sounded just as loving as her husband did when she was upset and comparing herself to the long legged, long haired, large breasted dancers at work. The sandwich was abruptly dropped right in front of her, where she could bend down and eat it. "Go on, eat."

She looked up at the strobe light, both confused and hopeful that she got on his good side. Then she forgot about how ashamed she was with how she was being forced to eat off the floor, and simply bent down, munching on the sandwich like a dog with dog food.

As she ate, she noticed how salty the sandwich tasted. Was that from being on the floor for so long, or did he put all the salt in it? Suddenly she was grabbed by her tousled, dirty hair and pulled back upright. She couldn't see anything with the strobe light's glare in her peripheral vision. Was there more than one person with her right now? Suddenly she felt the water from the cup splashing on her lips. She tried to keep from struggling and focused on licking the water from her mouth, whimpering the entire time in need of more water.

"I know you ain't good enough for no one else. I saw you in the club wishin' you were one of them strippers. Don't you worry, I'm going to take good care of you, Becky bitch."

She barely paid attention to the strobe light man speaking to her, but she heard it. And it made the tears flow even harder.

***

She had felt the foul cloth again, and it was starting to take its toll on her. She felt sick to her stomach when she woke up.

She felt the cold steel of a muzzle against the back of her head and the harsh yank of the chain. "Get your bitch ass up! NOW!" The voice wasn't the same as before. And she thought she heard harsh yelling and screaming in another room. She whimpered again and struggled to her feet. It was strange that she could finally stand up after such a long time being forced to remain on all fours. How long had it been?

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Her thoughts were interrupted a split second later by another cruel yank of the chain links nearest to the collar, pulling her back into whoever was tormenting her right now. "Lazy bitch! Think we're runnin' a hotel here?!"

She tried telling him what he might want to hear. "B-becky bitch is sorry...I..." she managed to croak out before she had that accursed chain yanked again.

"Shut the hell up and start movin'!"

She was dragged backwards through the dilapidated house. She didn't see anyone else here, and it appeared that the house was condemned with all the boarded-up windows. However, she still heard the group of voices throughout the place. Was someone messing with her head? Finally, she was led into a dimly lit room with what appeared to be a wooden board on a bed frame. The man shoved her toward the "bed".

"Lie down. Face up."

She was tempted to look at her captor, but she stopped herself. She remembered that electric shock she received the last time. So she just whimpered and climbed onto the board. She shut her eyes, deathly afraid of any more punishment. Then she felt the man roughly grab her wrists, and felt cold metal on them, followed by a click. She felt the same on her ankles moments later.

Another minute passed, and she felt a gentle and soft towel on her face. Considering all the other things that had happened so far, the towel was more unnerving than it was soothing. She heard footsteps leaving the room, then coming back, followed by the thud of something being dropped on the floor.

"Hi, Becky." It was the original voice...the nice voice that brought the sandwich and water. "How are you feeling?" She felt a rough hand run over her left breast, flicking her nipple piercing. She gasped and squirmed a little out of instinct, then whimpered.

"That's good." He ran his fingers lightly down to her cunt, playing with her labia and spreading her open. "You're going to be good for daddy, right?"

She whimpered again and moaned under the towel, squirming ever so slightly while giving a quick nod. She wasn't sure if she was repulsed or relieved by the touch. It was better than the electric shocks, choking, and cruel yelling.

"Good, so are we treating you okay?"

"I-I want to go h-home..." she whimpered under the towel again.

The response was unlike anything she'd experienced before. The towel started getting damp and heavy. Soon she realized how thin the towel was, as water started permeating through and she started gagging. What was happening? It felt like she was drowning! Then the towel was pulled off of her mouth and nose, and the voice answered her.

"But you ARE home, Becky. You like it here?"

She was home? In a place where she was being tortured? "No, I--" she said while gasping for breath. Suddenly the towel was brought back down over her nose and mouth and she screamed. She didn't want to go through that again!

But instead, she felt the hand at her pussy again, this time touching and flicking against her clit, which made her squirm and cry, both out of fear and from the confusing pleasure of it.

"You like it, right?" The tone remained gentle, even though what was happening horrified her.

She tentatively nodded in between sobs. She didn't know if he meant the house or if she liked the touch. But she'd say anything to keep from getting that drowning feeling again. The touch was starting to be more and more welcome every second.

"That's a good Becky Bitch. You like that name?" The finger on her clit moved a little faster, causing her to gasp for breath for another, much more pleasant reason.

"Mmm-hmm..." she moaned her answer.

The finger suddenly left her cunt, and ran down her leg. She instinctively raised her hips up and whimpered in need, a growing part of her wantingβ€”needing that to continue. "Good girl. Daddy loves his Becky Bitch."

She found herself wanting to reciprocate with an "I love you, too" if for no other reason than for him to touch her again. She immediately stopped as soon as she realized how wrong that was. What were they doing to her?

Then the water began again, causing her to scream and jerk against her bonds. She struggled in vain to break free while gagging against the towel that covered her face, twisting her head this way and that. But it just seemed to last longer. After what seemed to be an eternity of torture, the towel was lifted from her mouth and nose again. She gasped for air, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Please don't hurt me like that, Becky," the man's voice spoke again, this time with a tinge of emotional hurt in it. "You want Daddy's touch, right?"

She nodded quickly, whimpering again while raising her hips in expectation. She was acting purely on instinct.

"So you DO love me?" the tone was almost gentle and timid. It was like when her husband proposed to her.

She took several deep breaths, trying to gather her thoughts. This wasn't right. But her mind's voice was cut off again by another pleasurable touch to her clit. She moaned and moved her hips toward the fingers toying with her cunt. "Mmm...I love..." she moaned out a broken sentence after her thoughts were scrambled by the touch.

She didn't know what her captor or captors wanted with her, she just wanted the pleasure to continue.

Becky Bitch came minutes later, and passed out from the myriad of sensations, feelings, torture, and pleasure.

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