come because only the head of his meat could feel the insides of my cunt.
He laughed. I tried to pinch my legs together. He
drove his knee between them. He aimed his sadistic tool and drove it home. The rough leather was like sandpaper. It grated and pulled. It burned and bruised. I writhed in agony.
The dry tool drove back and forth in my barely damp slit. The cum that dribbled from my asshole was the only lubricant. There wasn't much of it. The pain was indescribable. The bastard took his time. He pushed back and forth very slowly. He made sure that I felt every ounce of the punishment he was meting out.
I was actually glad that I'd been raped by the donkey and tortured on that post an hour or so earlier. I wouldn't have been able to stand the pain caused by the leather-coated shaft if my cunt had been any tighter.
It seemed like hours before the filthy, sadistic son of a bitch began to speed up. My twat was on fire. My head rolled from side to side, nonstop. I stretched my legs as wide as they'd go to make my twat looser. I kept my legs flat against the floor in an effort to make my cunt as deep as I could. I didn't like giving him that much more of my tender hole to rub. But it was the only way. I didn't want him driving the rugged edges of that devilish thing into my uterus.
My stomach was knotted with cramps as the pain continued forever. My insides felt like they'd been ground into hash by the tiny knobs. My clit had most of the skin worn away, as did my cunt-lips. The rear edges caught and tore at my
pussy hair. There was no let-up.
After an eternity, when even the edge of that brutal pain had dulled, he began to hurry. His half-hidden cock-head was hot. He was drooling now. The leather sleeve was getting wet. He was hurting me again. He was fucking with more force.
He stopped concentrating on the agony reflected in my face. He still rested his weight on my tits and tummy. His hips began to gyrate. His pubic bone began to slap and crash against mine. New moans swelled up in my throat as the painful thrusts became a blur.
My pussy lapped up his lubricant hungrily. The sore walls of my cunt grew slick again. The sleeve became wet enough for it to stop hurting. Only the brads kept hurting.
My snatch warmed when the roughness disappeared. It grew moist from the friction on its own. I managed to unleash a little of my own nectar. The pain stopped. The humiliation remained.
The man fucked faster and faster. His cock roared in and snapped back. In and out-in and out-harder and harder. His balls bounced against my ass. His thighs trembled. He was sweating. The sweat dripped off him and ran in salty paths across my abused body.
Then he was coming. He knifed back and forth with incredible speed. My ass slapped the floor and absorbed the brutal shock of his weight. I felt my pussy fill with his jism. At last, he pulled free.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was awakened by a new guard and given a bowl of watery stew. It was a foul-tasting stuff and took an effort to keep down. Once it was in my burning stomach I did feel better.
The pain between my legs was so bad that I couldn't stop whimpering. I almost cried out every time I twitched a muscle down there. I'd make it, though-this should be my last day. If I made it, I could find a way to escape.
The tenor might have gone away a little if my twat hadn't been so sore. I didn't think I'd be able to stand any more punishment between my legs. It just hurt too damned bad. I was afraid to even touch it.
I was a mess. The guard recognized it, too. I'd almost grown used to the foul, nauseating smell but this guard hadn't. It was obvious by the
bulging hard-on in his pants that he wanted to abuse me, but the smell was keeping him away.
He tried to make me walk. I couldn't. My legs were like rubber. He grabbed me by the underarms and dragged me down the hall. I'd been hurt so bad the last couple of days that this was mild. I kept wondering when he was going to be cruel like the rest of the men here.
When we reached the hose room, he let go of me and tossed me a bar of regular soap. He sprayed me with a garden hose and let me wash myself. It took several soapings and several rinsings to get my body clean. He didn't try to hurt me. Maybe this was the weak link I was looking for.
'Thank you,' I whispered hoarsely when he washed the last of it off.
He smiled almost kindly. He helped me stand. He walked me around until I was able to move on my own. He actually talked to me. I learned his name was Pedro and that he didn't really like hurting She girls who were brought here. He was a member of an international crime syndicate. He had tried not to be assigned here. He'd lost and knew better than to protest or do anything that would get him in trouble. He had managed to get assigned jobs that kept him from being brutal.
The thought of possible escape flashed through my mind. I knew better than expect him to jeopardize his own safety to help me. I didn't ask. It couldn't hurt to have him like me. Even one person on my side could make life a little easier.
There was only one way I knew of to do it. I'd never sold my services on such a thin thread of hope before, but it didn't matter any more. If there was the slightest chance, I wanted to take it. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I fumbled with his fly. The man was surprised.
His tool was handsome and clean. I was going to give him the best blow-job he'd ever had. I wanted to make a lasting impression on him. The cold water, the pleasant aroma of soap, and being clean had helped a lot. His kindness gave me enough energy to do what had to be done.
The man's cock was warm and smooth against my bruised and cracked lips. I nibbled at it carefully and rubbed his balls gently in my stiff hands. I tilted the proud tool up and forced my swollen tongue to lick the silky- smooth underside of his prick.
His cock smelled clean and passionate. It tasted mildly salty. The door was closed and the room was quiet. Not having to listen to the whimpers and moans from the various cells down the hall helped relax me.
I felt strange. It soothed my torment to know that someone could still think of me as a human being. His desire for me as a woman and not as an object to torture and abuse was wonderful. I put all my heart into sucking that cock.
When I had aroused him enough by licking the length of the hot shaft, I thrilled it by tickling the thin flesh below his crimson crown. The cock
shivered and bounced with delight. I let the tool lower until I could get my mouth around it. I let it sink past my teeth.
It took one hell of an effort, but I swirled my stiff tongue around the firm head. I drew circles around his hole and played tic-tac-toe on the sensitive tip. I ground it just below the rim with my teeth. I let it come out enough that I could nibble on the blushing face. Then I slowly drew my mouth over it.
I let it ride in until my nose was buried in his pubic forest. I ignored the pain in my jaw and mouth. It wasn't important. What was important was showing the man how much I appreciated his kindness.
I could feel the blood pounding through the knotted veins that jutted from the sides of his manly spear. I could feel the tension in his thighs as I moved my head in circles as well as back and forth.
Pedro's cock felt soothing. I knew this man had seen so much pain and suffering in this place that he was callous to it. I knew he probably didn't care a thing about me and never would. I still had to chance it. He might help me escape later.
I rode back and forth, letting his cock press against my tongue and rub the roof of my mouth. I didn't get hot. My pussy was numb. It was enough just to please him.
As I felt him get hotter and hotter, I began to sway back and forth faster and faster. My tongue
stopped aching and I was able to deep-throat his pecker. The boner trembled as it sank into my throat. I wiggled my tongue at the bottom of his root. I sucked in. His thighs rippled. His ass lacked. His knees pressed against my tender boobs and shook weakly.
I drew back quickly. I rammed my face forward. I felt his balls rub my chin. I felt his hair tickle my nose. He groaned. His cock was dribbling its sparkling nectar along the path of my tongue. It was working. He was about to
