Domesticating the Fucktoy

“Ok then bitch. You may swallow.” Just as she started to gulp down the man cream, Ryan flung his belt straight up behind her between her legs, the rough leather snapping with a Crack! right onto her delicate pussy.

“*gulp! AHH! *Cough” NGHHH!! o-oh my-*cough-gawd!!!” Throat convulsing, Chelsea fell over onto her side and clutched at her sex, while she spluttered and choked on the cum, trying her best to keep it in her stomach. Her pussy burned and a nice red stripe angrily colored her soft sex lips. Why did he hit her?!

------Earlier that day-----

“This is going to be a piece of cake.”
It was the dead of winter in Pittsburgh, and a lone squad car coasted down the rundown street heading towards a large warehouse. It was early Friday afternoon, and officers Mike and Ryan were in high spirits. Joking with each other and laughing, the two corrupt cops pulled into the warehouse's large parking lot.

Inside, Chelsea McKinley, a pretty young thing, was taping up a box for shipment. Fresh out of high school, Chelsea hoped she could work for a year or two and save up to go to college, but the economy was not great. No one would hire someone with no work experience, and only by some miracle did she manage to convince the manager here to give her a shot.

She thought the man had some sympathy for her, but really he just hoped to fuck her. She only cost him minimum wage, and if she didn't put out he'd find a reason to fire her. She was just finishing up her first week.

Chelsea was dressed in casual, winter work clothes; a yellow coat over a white tshirt, blue jeans, and a baby blue ball cap. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail, through the cap, and she absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow, pushing some dangling blonde strands from her face as she worked. Though the warehouse was chilly and drafty in winter, she could still work up a bit of a sweat moving around some of the larger boxes.

Officers Mike and Ryan made their way up the slippery steps and entered the warehouse. Seeing the two officers waiting politely at the door, one of the workers went to the office to get Harry, the manager.

Looking flustered and confused, Harry, a thin greasy looking man, greeted them.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

“Yes, I'm Officer Ryan and this is Officer Mike, we're with Pittsburgh PD. Are you the manager in charge?”

“Yes, I am, I'm Harry Rumsfield. Is there a problem I can help you with?”

“We are looking for Chelsea McKinley, she may have some involvement with a crime and we need to ask her a few questions.”

Harry stiffened. Damn that girl, she was already proving to be too much trouble.

“I see. What did she do?”

Ryan looked hesitant. “We can't go into details, but she is suspected of grand theft and the sale of illegal substances.” Great. A thief and a dealer. Harry frowned.

“Oh. Well, I will bring her of course. We have a conference room next to the office, would you like to speak to her there?”

“Yes, that would be fine.”

Harry escorted the men to a small meeting room, which contained a whiteboard and a rectangular table with chairs. The table and chairs were made of cheap metal, and looked rusty in places. Before excusing himself to get Chelsea, Harry turned on a baseboard heater to warm the room up. Ryan and Mike glanced around, looking for any cameras. There were none.

After a few minutes wait, the door opened again, and Chelsea entered the room backed by Harry. She looked startled, her brow wrinkling slightly, not expecting to see cops. Harry had not told her why he wanted to speak to her, he was afraid she might make a run for it.

“What is this, Harry?” She turned and looked over her shoulder at him, and he gently pushed her in and closed the door.

“These men are with the police and are here to see you.”

Ryan's cold eyes ran up and down her body, seemingly appraising her worth. They swept down over the curves of her hips, down her legs, then back up again. She felt a small chill run down her spine as his piercing eyes lingered just a moment longer on the swell of her breasts, then finally settled on her face. The bitch was cute, hotter than her picture.

“You took your time, Miss McKinley.” Mike stated in an annoyed voice. “We're investigating a series of crimes and need to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh, o-okay” Chelsea answered apprehensively. She didn't do anything wrong, but being questioned by cops just made her nervous. How did she figure into any of this? And why did they seem so hostile?

“If you don't mind Mr. Rumsfield, we will need to question her in private. Thank you for allowing us to use this room, it saves us the trouble of having to bring her in.” Bring her in?! Chelsea's mind started working furiously. What was this about?

“All right then. I'll be in the office next door.” Harry looked a bit annoyed, but agreed. He had already decided Chelsea would no longer be working here; anyone who brought cops to the workplace during their first week, for whatever reason, was an employee he did not want. As he left the room, Ryan strode towards the single window looking out at the warehouse floor and closed the blinds. Locking the door and standing in front of it, he turned to address the little blonde tart.

“Sit down!”
Fidgeting nervously, Chelsea pulled out a rusty metal chair and sat at the table, facing the men. She picked at her nails nervously.
“We have your brother in custody.”

Chelsea groaned to herself. Her older brother Andy, in his 30s, had been getting into trouble for as long as she could remember. After their parents had died, Andy tried to take care of his little sister but always fell short. Now he was a drunk and practically lived on drugs, and she hadn't seen him in 2 months. He did call occasionally, always promising to do better.

“Oh no. What has he-” she began.

“He was apprehended attempting to steal a car.” barked Mike, interrupting her.

This was true. Andy had been trying to force his way into a parked car when, as luck would have it, the two most corrupt cops in Pittsburgh rolled up and caught him in the act. He had the unwashed reek of a desperate man, and after handcuffing him and searching his person, they found his nearly empty wallet. A wrinkled photo of Andy and Chelsea was shoved into the billfold – and after questioning him they determined the bright eyed, curvy girl was his sister.

What they would not tell Chelsea now was that they did not bring her brother in, or report the crime. Seeing a golden opportunity, they simply locked him up in Mike's basement, while they questioned him on his sister.

And now, here they were.

“Is he ok?” she asked. “Where is he?”

“We are asking the questions Chelsea” snapped Ryan, dropping the polite use of her last name. “He had quite a bit to say about you. We know that you both collaborate and steal cars together,” her eyes widened, “and we know all about the opioids you've been selling too.”

“N-no, it's not true! I haven't done any of those things!”

“We are officers of the law! The LAW. Do you understand? You will call us Sir or Officer!”

Being young, Chelsea was horribly naive of the world and didn't ask for a lawyer, or note that no evidence was backing up these accusations. Instead, she just spluttered and panicked.

“But sir, please! I'm telling you, we don't do those things, I swear! There's been a mistake-”

“Do not LIE to us!!” roared Mike, slamming his fist down on the table and making her jump. “There's only one way for you to help your brother, and yourself. You will answer all our questions, and you will cooperate with us. Do that, and we MAY be able to release your brother.”

“If you don't help us-” picked up Ryan “we will have to bring you in. It will be jail for you while we sort through this mess. Your brother already has a criminal record; his sentence will be long. I doubt you'd even see him again. You can go to jail, or help us. Jail. Or help us. Those are your choices.”

“No! I'll help you, really! I'm innocent, please!” Chelsea was nearly in hysterics. Her brother was a good guy, she knew he got into a lot of trouble but he would never harm anyone and he loved her. She didn't want him to get locked away. Ryan walked around the room and shut off the heater, letting the air begin to cool again.

“You would be locked up maybe 20 years. The dykes would love you. You'd be walking bow-legged the rest of your life” Mike sneered at her nastily. “I suggest you help us if you want to avoid that.”

“I-I...please, I will cooperate Sir.” she said in a small voice, dismayed at his words.

“We shall see. When did you first start selling drugs?”

“I don't sell drugs sir! I don't know anything about-”

“So that's how it's going to be huh? STAND UP! Feet apart, hands on your head!” Ryan shouted at her, and she quickly rose to her feet, tentatively raising her hands to her head.

“Don't fucking move.” tears formed in the corner of her eyes as the two men grabbed at her, running their big hands over her body. “We will see if you are hiding any drugs on you.”

“I-I'm-”

“SHUT UP!” Grabbing her ponytail, Ryan pulls her head back as their hands run down her sides and legs. Mike crouched down and patted around her legs, his fingers lingering and rubbing on her inner thighs and briefly over her crotch, pressing firmly.

“Ahh! S-stop! I don't have anything!”

With his free hand, Ryan felt around her armpits and shoulders, and ran his hand over her breasts, cupping them and lifting gently. Feeling nothing out of the ordinary, he releases her hair and shoves her away a few feet.

“We didn't find anything but they could be concealed in your clothing. Remove your jacket and cap.”

“No! You can't just-”

“No? Let me get this straight” drawled Ryan. “You claim to be innocent but won't even let us search you for drugs. I guess we'd better just haul you in then.”

“W-wait! No! I'll cooperate! Wait!” with unsteady hands, she quickly pulled her baseball cap off her head, releasing her hair. Next up, she pulled the zipper down her yellow jacket, and her t-shirt clad boobs came to greater prominence. Mike grinned at her, not even bothering trying to hide his enjoyment as he stared at the generous swells, swaying slightly as she pulled her arms through the jacket and set it on the table.

Ryan picked it up and made a show of rummaging through the pockets, feeling along the inner lining. Quickly glancing inside her discarded ball cap, he tossed it back onto the table.

“Shoes and top next. Hurry up.”

“Do I really have to?” she asked in a small voice. Seeing them glare at her in anger, she sat down again and pulled her shoes and socks off, one at a time, as Mike peered into them. Standing back up, she blushed deeply as she started to roll her white shirt up over her head. A white bra encasing her tits dropped down into view, as her mouthwatering cleavage did a little shimmy. She set her shirt on the table and tried to cover her bra with her hands.

“Hands down! This is a search you idiot girl, you can't be searched if you cover up!”
“S-sorry!” she shakily drops her hands.

“Not bad. I've always preferred girls with a nice bust. These are definitely a nice handful, don't you think, Mike?”

“She's okay I guess” lied Mike, thinking she was gorgeous. “I've seen better, they look firm though. Pants! Now! We haven't got all day!”

Chelsea was appalled at their banter, they were talking about her like she wasn't even there! Steeling herself, she undid the button on her jeans and pushed them down over her hips, working them off her legs. A pair of pink bikini bottom panties came into view, her mismatched underwear testament to the unexpectedness of the day's events.

She stood straight back up again and blushed deeply as they eyed her up and down. Riffling through her shirt and pants, Ryan found no items on her at all.

“Where's your phone? Do you keep a purse?”
“Y-yes, it's at my station...”

“We will need to search it. Mike will get it. What color is it?”
“blue, it's all the way in the back, under the shipping desk.”

“We need to search your car too.”
“I don't have one, um, officer. I take the bus to work...” she shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious.

Mike turned and left the room, off to retrieve the offending item and throw it in the squad car. He had no intention of letting the bitch make a phone call.

Chelsea watched him leave the room, and as soon as the door shut Ryan grabbed her by her hair again. He roughly yanked the hair tie from her ponytail, and re-gripped her blonde locks more savagely. The pain in her scalp made her wince and blink back tears, and Ryan slammed her into the window blinds, pushing her forward into the window.

Her firm breastflesh, still hiding behind her bra, smashed up on the cheap and flimsy blinds, bending them open slightly. She was sure her co-workers could see! She pushed back against the blinds with her hands, trying to get free, messing them up more.

“Stop! What are you doi—ahh ouch!” Ryan had leaned into her with his shoulder, crushing her breasts into the unforgiving glass. Pinning her, he ran his free hand down between her ass cheeks, continuing between her thighs along the groove of her slit.

“We'll continue” Ryan grunted, forcing the squirming girl harder into the window. On the other side, Ricardo, an employee that ran the order picker, stared. It looked like the top third of a pair of bra cups was crushed flat against the window glass, squirming cleavage slightly visible above. And were those hands? Was he seeing that right?

Officer Mike saw the man staring and strode over to talk to him. Best to make sure he wouldn't talk about what he just saw.

Back in the conference room, Ryan continued to check her for drugs. Rubbing her pussy through her panties for way longer than necessary, he moved his hand up and slipped his fingers underneath the waist band. He felt each full ass cheek in turn, squeezing possessively.

Slap!

Satisfied, he gave her ass a hard slap while she cried, and he moved his face near her ear smelling her hair.

“Why are you doing this? Let me go!”

He slides his hand around to the front, under the waistband, and she starts fighting to get away.

The door opened again as Mike returned, his brow furrowing seeing her struggles. He ran over to help Ryan hold her still.

“Stop resisting, you stupid bitch!” *Slap! *Slap! Pulling her away from the window, Mike slapped her face hard twice while Ryan held her arms from behind. Chelsea saw stars as she blinked stupidly, momentarily dazed by the blows, her head snapping neatly to the left and right.

“So much for cooperation! We're bringing you in!” Pulling out their handcuffs, they quickly cuffed her wrists behind her back, as well as her ankles, hobbling her. They force marched her out the door, one officer grasping each of her arms behind her back.

Chelsea blushed even more deeply, all her new coworkers were staring at her in her underwear!

“I-I'm sorry, please, I'll cooperate, I-I'm s-sorry!” she cried pathetically as they practically dragged her to the door, her little hobbled steps not letting her keep up. As they passed Ricardo, the man nodded and smiled, barely restraining himself from showing his glee. He had struck an agreement with Mike, and he couldn't wait for tomorrow.

It was still early afternoon when they dragged her out into the cold winter weather outside. Her nipples instantly reacted to the frigid air, poking painfully hard into her bra cups, and her flesh all over flushed with goosebumps. They slammed her onto the hood of their squad car while Mike held her down, and pulling out a black blindfold, they quickly tied it around her head. Ryan opened the rear door. They unceremoniously threw her in the back, and started their drive to the 'station.' Unfortunately for Chelsea, the station was Mike's basement.

-------------------------

A 20 minute drive later, a shivering Chelsea was finally pulled out of the squad car. They had cracked the rear windows and shut off the heat, letting her freeze her nearly naked ass off. Stopping at Ryan's house halfway, they pulled her from the car and pushed her face down into the snow.

*Thud! “Ugh!”
A heavy boot landed between her shoulder blades, pinning her and making her exhale sharply.

Turning on his garden hose, Ryan sprayed the flailing girl down with the freezing water.

“*Gasp! OOOOHH” she felt her heart leap into her throat as the cold hit her. He sprayed down her entire backside and lifted his boot. She rolled over, trying to get to her feet, but this only let Ryan generously spray down her glass-cutting chest and gasping face as well.

“N-nn-nn-o stsssstttop!” They threw her back into the car, and resumed their drive to Mike's house. Of course, they still left the windows cracked open, the soaking girl curled up in the back seat trying to find warmth.

30 minutes later, the blindfolded girl once again found herself flying through the air, landing with a thud onto the frozen ground.

“Welcome to the station bitch. Let's get you processed.”

“P-please, s-s-so c-cold, there's n-no n-need for t-this! I'll do a-anything y-y-you w-want!” her teeth chattered violently behind her blue tinged lips. She was in serious danger now, they had better hurry up and get her inside.

They marched the unfortunate girl through the front door, and blissful heat washed over Chelsea. Her teeth still chattering madly, she found herself guided down a set of stairs, down and down, until finally they stopped their descent and slammed her ass onto a stool. Her blindfold was ripped off her face.

She squinted, grimacing, into the bright light, unable to see. Three bright interrogation lights were aimed right at her face, and the frightened, shivering girl hugged her knees as she sat on the cold metal stool. She couldn't make out her dark surroundings at all. At least the air was simply chilly and not freezing, her flesh gratefully accepting the new warmth.

Mike's voice came to her from the darkness. “This is one of the station's interrogation rooms. You've been brought here because you are combative, uncooperative, and hindering a police investigation.” Stepping forward, she could make out his shape. He laughed to himself at the ignorant girl, she had no idea how benign a real police station actually was.

Scared out of her wits, she began to babble. “No no no I will cooperate really-!”

“Shut up!”

“I'm sorry I'm sorry please just let me and my brother go please I-”

*Smack! “Owww!” She stopped rambling when Ryan walked up behind her and cuffed her on the head. She looked back at him miserably and choked back a sob.

“Better. You will learn to talk less, I promise you.”

“We are feeling generous.” drawled Mike. “We will give you one last chance to help us. Is that something you'd like to do?”

She stared at him with hateful eyes, but nodded vigorously.

“Well then. Kindly stand.”

Rising up on unsteady feet, Chelsea looked like a deer in headlights, the bright spotlights making her the glowing attraction of the room. She still couldn't see more than 4 feet in front of her.

“Remove your bra and panties while we ask you some more questions. We still haven't searched you completely.”

“I-...Y-yes sir.” she said quietly. She had never heard of police being this violent or brutal. Was this normal treatment for criminals? Why wouldn't they believe she was innocent!? She had to cooperate, maybe then they would see she wasn't a criminal and be nicer to her.

They release her handcuffs, and she tenderly rubbed her wrists. Eyeing Mike warily in front of her, she reached behind and unclasped her bra, holding the cups to her tits. Mortified, her face flushing red, she slightly bit her lower lip nervously and pulled the bra away, exposing her jiggling titflesh to their hungry eyes. Her pink, hard nipples stuck out, begging to be pinched.

*Whistle “Those are a whore's tits if I ever saw 'em.”

Flushing angrily, she started to protest. “I-I'm not a whore!”

Ryan waved his hand dismissively. “The panties next, whore. Don't piss us off.”

She didn't like how he talked to her, or how he touched her before, but she felt like he had power over what would happen to her and her brother so kept quiet. Maybe now that the other officer was present he wouldn't be so handsy. She gripped her waistband and started to slide them down. “Stop! Turn around and bend over.” Humiliation washed over her, but she did as she was told. “Good, arch your back a little. Now pull them down. Slowly.”

Sliding the cotton bikini bottoms down her slender legs, her pouting pussy came into view, the lips tightly pinched closed by her thighs. Straightening back up, she kicked her panties aside.

“Turn around again. Spread your legs. Good.” They simply looked at her for a good long minute, intending to embarrass her.

“There could be bags taped under those titties. Or up inside her. Well bitch, are you hiding anything?”

“I'm not a bitch!! And no!” she protested. “For God's sake, I'm naked!”

“One way to find out. Start doing jumping jacks. Don't stop until I tell you.” Ryan commanded sternly. She stared at him, then remembered the thin ice she was on already. Swallowing her pride, embarrassed beyond belief, she meekly started doing half-assed jumping jacks.

“What the fuck is that?!” Mike boomed. “Extend all the way! Put some energy into it, God damn it girl!”

Tits flopping heavily, Chelsea redoubled her efforts, spreading her legs and arms into a perfect airborne star again and again. Her heavy chest was determined to punish itself this time, slamming down over and over on her ribs, the sore funbags aching more and more.

10, 11, 12, 13

On and on she jumped, her body quickly warming up now. Ryan squatted down and peered at her pussy, seeing if any bags had worked themselves free. Mike for his part watched her tits, mesmerized by the rhythmic bouncing and jiggling.

35, 36, 37

They let her keep going, ostensibly to see if anything would work itself free. At one point she grabbed her breasts for support.

“Hands off! NOW!” Ryan screamed in her flinching face. “The fuck do you think you're doing? Is that a jumping jack?”
“I'm sorry!” she released her poor titties and groaned as they resumed their punishing dance.

50, 51, 52

“Keep going, Chelsea. We'll let you know when you've been thorough enough.”

“Y-yes Sir. *gasp” *gasp

88, 89

*wheezing “Officer, please. *gasp Can I stop?” Her sore breasts throbbed relentlessly, becoming two bags of liquid ache on her chest, as she fought to keep her breath.
“I was about to let you but now you get another 30. Keep going.”

118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123

“Stop!” Breathing heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat, Chelsea stopped her exercise.

“See, I don't have any drugs!” she wheezed.

“On your ass. Now. Spread your legs and pull those pussy lips open. There better be nothing there.”

Flushed with exertion and embarrassment, the girl sat down on the floor and spread her legs shoulder width apart.

“Wider!” Mike kicked her feet apart further, exposing her tender quim to their gaze. Timidly, she reached down around her legs and pulled her lips apart, the labia stretching open slightly. Kneeling down, Ryan suddenly jammed his thumbs up her cunt and pulled hard sideways, prying her tight little hole open while she cried out.

“N-no don't touch me there!”
Ignoring her, Mike joined Ryan and took out a penlight, shining it up her protesting fucktube. Seeing nothing but pink, he puts the light away. Ryan pulled his thumbs free and her labia sprung back, the gates of her sex snapping shut again neatly.

“Not a virgin I see, I knew you were a whore” Ryan mocked her. She just stared at him, wanting to cry.

“Who was it, whore? Who fucked that nasty twat?”

“N-no one..years ago when I was little I...well...I used a carrot.”

Mike guffawed loudly, and she turned even more red. “So you're a whore for vegetables huh. Good to know.” Mortified that she had told him, she felt small and useless.

Still sitting with her legs open, she looked up and asked “You can see I have no drugs...please, will you let me and my brother go?”

Ryan laughed at her. “Your brother was caught committing grand theft auto. I know, let's talk to him about it.” Chelsea jumped, startled, as the rooms lights were turned on, banishing the oppressive darkness that blinded her to her surroundings.

Right in front of her, not 10 feet away, her brother Andy was soundlessly banging on the soundproofed glass of the cell he was locked in. Yelping, Chelsea snapped her legs shut and quickly stood, covering her tits and pussy and turning sideways.

“Oh my Goddd! He's right there!!!” Chelsea wanted to shrivel up and die. “What the fuck!?”

“Yes, he is there” Ryan said nonchalantly. Keeping his gaze on her, he takes his gun from the holster and points it straight at Andy while Chelsea shrieked. Cowering, Andy backed away from the window, silently mouthing words no one could hear.

“Stop, NO don't shoot him wait! WHAT IS HAPPENING?” she wailed. She took two steps towards Ryan but Mike intercepted her, backhanding her across the face while she crumpled into a heap. The corner of her mouth trickled a droplet of blood while she looked up, wide eyed.

“Listen closely slut, and listen well” Mike said quietly. “You are not at a police station. We caught your brother stealing and brought him here. If you disobey us, he dies. If you piss us off, he dies. If we decide you're just not worth keeping around anymore, he dies. Do you understand?”

“B-but...why?!” Chelsea screamed. “Why us? What do you want?”

“Dear Andy here had your picture on him, and we liked what we saw, it's as simple as that. Now answer the question!”

*Smack! He knocked her to the floor again, and sat down on her waist. Pinning her arms above her head with one hand, he started slapping her sore titbags left and right with the other.

*Slap! Ungh! “DO”
*Slap! Oww! “YOU”
*Slap! Ouch! “UNDERSTAND?”
*Slap! “Ohhhh y-yes!”
*Slap! “Yes, yes!”
*Slap! “I u-understand!!!”
*Slap! “Owwww!”
*Slap!*Slap!*Slap!*Slap!
He spanked her hurting boobflesh hard, never tiring of watching the jiggling. Even after she answered him, he still laid into her tits.

“Good.” *Slap! “Ohhh s-stop” *Slap! “Ngh!” *Slap!

After another half dozen slaps for good measure, he releases her arms and savagely grabs both of her nipples. Standing up, he pulls her to her feet, stretching her breasts into cones as she claws at his hands, desperately trying to release his fingers. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks, a combination of stress and pain. It looked beautiful.

Ryan lowered his gun. “You were born to be a slut; to swallow cocks and be used as a toy.”

She glared at him. “I'm a person, not a toy!” The boldness of her statement was diminished by her wincing face, as she struggled to pull Mike's pinching fingers from her tender nubbins.

“Oh?” He pointed his gun at Andy again. “A slow learner too it seems.”

“NO no! I'm sorry!” she cried out. “Don't hurt him, I'm a toy, I'm just a toy!”

Ryan lowered his gun and smiled, but the gesture just gave Chelsea chills. Taking out a taser, he punched in a code and opened the door to Andy's soundproof enclosure, stepping inside. Andy's voice could barely be heard through the cracked open door.

“Let her go, you piece of- AHH!”
Ryan had shot Andy with the taser and the man had crumpled to the floor, twitching and crying out.
“Andy! Stop! Please!!”
Over and over again he was tased, as Chelsea cried and begged them to stop, unable to rush to the door. Leaving her brother twitching on the ground, Ryan locked the door again and faced Chelsea.

“That was generous. Next time maybe we cut something off. Maybe we kill him, I don't know. Don't. Piss. Us. Off.”
Nodding and crying, Chelsea sniffled and weakly said “I'm sorry.”

Shaking his head, Mike tugged hard on her tit tips, leading the scared girl from Andy's cell back upstairs. This bitch needed to be broken in. Ryan followed behind.

----------------

“Ouch! S-sir, please – ouch!”
Chelsea's felt embarrassed as she was yanked and led around by her nipples, the hard little tips savagely crushed by Mike's iron grip. She was taken back upstairs and grunted as her breasts pulled out away from her body, and she was thrown into the wall of the kitchen.

Looking around, she couldn't believe she had thought they had taken her to the police station. This was literally just some guy's home. A big home, to be sure, Mike had inherited acreage from his father and threw all his money into building a larger house. He and Ryan had added cells to the large basement for any 'guests' they might have, and had tirelessly soundproofed the walls and beefed up security. Being in such a quiet and secluded spot anyway, Mike wasn't worried about being caught.

Ryan was the first to speak.

“All right. Since you are our permanent guest we feel obliged to enlighten you. Do you know what your purpose in life is?”
“What are you talking about?” she looked at him tiredly.

Glancing at each other, Mike step forward and grabbed two fistfuls of her breasts, squeezing down like a vice while her hands clawed at his.

“Ow! Ahh!”
“That's not how you speak to us. Try again.”

“Unh! Ouch! S-sorry Sir. What is my p-purpose Sir? I don't know.” Releasing her breasts, Mike gave the right tit a hefty smack, watching it crash into the other.

“Well, funny you should ask. You exist to please men. You are a fuckdoll, a whore. A piece of meat.” She just looked at him quietly, angry at his words but too afraid for herself and Andy to sound off.

“Your every thought should be how can I please men today” he continued. “You are young and stupid, slut, but we will break you in. Remember what happens if you don't obey us.” She nodded slowly. How did she end up here? This morning she just woke up and went to work...a tear rolled down her cheek.

“I think we'd like to have our cocks sucked” suggested Mike. “Why don't you get on your knees and show us what a good slut you are.”

Eyeing him tentatively with a look of sorrow, the naked girl hesitated then sank to her knees, right onto the hard kitchen floor. Walking up to her, Mike hovered his crotch near her face, waiting.

“Go ahead and take it out, it won't bite. Neither will you if you want Andy to keep living.” Swallowing nervously, she reached a dainty hand up and fumbled with the top button of his black pants. Popping it free, she slid the zipper down and fished out his semi-hard cock from his underpants.

It looked fat, slightly longer than average length. A little bead of precum sat on the tip, and she just looked at it, a sinking feeling roiling in her stomach. She had never sucked a cock before, or had sex for that matter.

Grabbing her hair tightly, Mike pulls her head back, making her look him in the eye. “Open those pretty pink lips. Remember to suck and use your tongue.” Her soft mouth opened, and Mike pushed in roughly, reveling in the sensation of her wet heat. Releasing her hair, he smacked her on the head. “I said suck!”

And suck she did. It tasted awful to her, the small bead of precum gave her tastebuds a preview of what was to come, and it was bitter and weird. Sucking on it awkwardly like it was a straw, she started working her mouth along the shaft, half of it disappearing into her mouth. The cock itself almost seemed...earthy. It wasn't so bad, she thought.

“Use your tongue! Lick the tip!” She popped off the head and muttered “s-sorry!” then lapped at the slit on the head, flushing red in embarrassment, hands slightly shaking. Sucking the cock back in, she got a nice little rhythm going, no longer sucking non-stop but more of a nursing suction, as if she was trying to milk his balls. She leaned forwards with her hands on his thighs for support.

“Swallow that cock whore. This is what you were made for.” Mike closed his eyes and let the sensation wash over him. “Deeper!” She tried, but barely made any more progress down his length. Once the head started smacking into the entrance of her throat, her gag reflex kicked in and she felt like she was going to throw up.

The cock got messy fast, with a mixture of her saliva and his precum starting to run from the corner of her mouth. “You're making a damn mess! Swallow! Swallow!” She gulped and worked her throat, a feeling of nausea washing over her as the mixed liquid wormed its way down her gullet. Somehow, she kept it down. Picking up speed, he grabbed her hair and starting pumping her face down his shaft, grunting as his cock banged into the back of her throat.

Gagging and spluttering, her red face stared up at him pleadingly, while she worked her mouth. “Uh! Yeah! Listen up, bitch! Uh! When I come, don't swallow. Hold it! You fucking hear me? Uh! If you spit we're gonna beat you black and blue!” Tensing up, he pulled her head back until just the tip sat inside her mouth, and came.

Chelsea felt her tonsils being sprayed down with the white cream, and the taste of his cum washed over her. More and more cum filled her mouth, until finally he pulled his cock from her wetly sucking lips with a small 'pop!'

Still holding her by the hair, he pulls her head back. “Open that fuckmouth. Show me!” Tears rolling down her cheeks, she does as she is told, and he hocks back and spits into her open mouth, the thick mucus and saliva joining the small white puddle.

“Swish it around, savor it!” her mouth closes and she works the load back and forth, feeling like she was going to vomit. The smell of his cum seemed to come up through her nostrils. Ryan walks up behind her, taking off his belt. She doesn't pay him any notice. “Get used to the taste. You will be swallowing a lot of this stuff. Sit back on your heels, legs spread. Keep swishing!”

She shifted into the required position, still looking up at Mike, running the cum around in her mouth. Blushing, she spread her legs and balanced backwards on her feet. “Remember whore you are not allowed to spit. There's only one way to get rid of that load. Would you like to keep tasting it for a while, or would you like to swallow?” She just nodded at him, disgusted at herself but she really thought if she kept swishing his cum around she would throw up, and who knows what they'd do to her then. She had to get this over with.

“Ok then bitch. You may swallow.” Just as she started to gulp down the man cream, Ryan flung his belt straight up behind her between her legs, the rough leather snapping with a Crack! right onto her delicate pussy.

“*gulp! AHH! *Cough” NGHHH!! o-oh my-*cough-gawd!!!” Throat convulsing, Chelsea fell over onto her side and clutched at her sex, while she spluttered and choked on the cum, trying her best to keep it in her stomach. Her pussy burned and a nice red stripe angrily colored her soft sex lips. Why did he hit her?!

“*gasp W-why did you- ahh!” she never got to finish her question, Ryan suddenly hauling her up and throwing her face up onto the kitchen table, head hanging off the edge.

“S-stop, I-mnngh!” Freeing his cock, he shoved his entire length into her mouth, cutting her off. Pumping his hips right from the start, he groaned as she tried desperately to fight him off, not getting a good breath beforehand. Leaning forwards, he grips both of her titties and squeezes hard, feeling her whimper into his cock, making him harder.

Keeping a steel grip on her tits, he pulls his cock from her mouth, letting her gasp in a breath, before plunging back into her face. His cock punched back into the entrance of her throat and she moaned as it achingly stretched wider, a small bulge visible in her neck. Pulling back into her mouth to let her suckle on him, he goes easy on her to help her acclimatize to her new role as a fuckdoll. He dug his fingers deeper into the tender mammary meat and twists, delighting in the vibrations her groans sent through his shaft.

While she struggled to swallow Ryan's sword, her hands pushing away at his thighs, Mike went to the fridge. “If I remember correctly, slut” he spoke over the lewd noise of her wetly suctioning mouth “you said you took your own virginity with a carrot.” He laughed at the red faced girl, unable to answer him with her mouth full of cock.

“Since you love vegetables so much, let me see if I can round something up for you.” He brings a fat cucumber to the table she's on, her head lolling backwards off the edge as Ryan pumped her mouth. Cum and saliva ran down the corners of her mouth into her hair, along with her tears, and Ryan pulled his cock free as Mike approached.

*Pop!
*gasp

Mouth still agape as she sucked in a breath, Mike shoved the cucumber into her mouth, roughly jamming it all the way back into her throat. The large vegetable made her neck bulge obscenely, and Chelsea gagged and twisted on the table, clutching at her throat. Mike pulled it back out with a wet slurping noise and, she turned her head sideways and vomited, spilling the contents of her stomach on the floor.

“Dumb fucking slut. How dare you waste our cum like that.”
“*cough p-please, just give m-me a min-Ah! A-mnnngh!”
Ryan punched down angrily onto her right tit, then the left, grinding his knuckles into her sore breastflesh. Her mouth popped open in a moan of pain, and he wasted no time, feeding her his cock again. “You've already pissed me off with the mess you've made. I suggest you try harder or I'll be visiting Andy.” Steeling herself, she pushed thoughts of her roiling stomach out of her mind and raised her hands, clutching his ass through his pants, pulling his cock deeper into her mouth.

Gently slapping her thighs, Mike made Chelsea expose her pristine, tight cunt to him. Feeding the tip of the newly wettened cucumber into her, he pushed in the first 2 inches and twisted it back and forth, watching her tense and wiggle on the table. Suddenly, he smashed his palm into the base of the cucumber, and 9 inches of fat vegetable were suddenly wedged up inside her!

“..mmmmnnhhHH! NghH!!” Chelsea groaned and wiggled her hips, her pussy feeling like it had just been split open. This was way, way wider than the little carrot she had used on herself before. Her cunt clenched and flexed uselessly, trying to expel the invader, and Mike started to pump it back and forth.

He worked her little twat hard. It was best for her to get used to such things sooner rather than later. Spitroasted by Ryan in her mouth and a cucumber in her cunt, she couldn't help but get aroused despite the stretching pain. She started to slightly buck her hips a little to meet Mike's thrusts. They fucked her long and hard, and when Ryan came straight down her throat, pumping her stomach full of cum again, he and Mike switched places. Thrusting into her hot fuckmouth again and again, Mike worked himself up to another orgasm, while Ryan recovered and pumped her cunt with the cucumber.

After each had cum twice, the pair felt sated. Whether Chelsea came or not wasn't important to them; she was there for their pleasure, not the other way. They left the gasping young woman laying on the table, cum leaking from her mouth, her juices running down from her pussy over her ass. The cucumber was still lodged up her fucktube, the end pushing painfully into her cervix.

“Not a bad job, cunt, all things considered.” Ryan said, rolling his neck. “You did throw up but we'll give you a freebie. If you throw up from now on, there will be lots and lots of pain for you. Understand?”

Red eyed and crying, she answered him weakly. “yes.”

“Right then. Let me help you.” Mike grabbed her knees and lifted her ass up off the table, while Ryan took some duct tape to make makeshift panties for her. Pulling the tape tight, he passed it between her legs to hold the cucumber up her pussy, then taped a waistband around her hips. He dropped an apron and a wet rag on her stomach.

“Get up slut. You need to clean up your mess, and get started on making us dinner.”
“I...o-okay.”

She pushed herself up into a sitting position on the table, and groaned. The cucumber up her cunt made her feel so full, and her weight pushed it up against the mouth of her womb. Quickly she hopped to her shaky feet, her legs slightly bowed, and she tied the backless apron on, leaving her ass completely exposed.

Picking up the wet rag, she got on her hands and knees and started mopping up the vile vomit and cum mixture. “Remember slut, that belongs in your stomach. Don't forget next time.” They watched the humiliated girl work as they fixed their clothes, then made her wash and wring out the rag in the sink. Not done, she also cleaned up her juices off the surface of the table.

Satisfied, they made her start on dinner. Country fried steak, mashed potatoes, and some sauteed mushrooms were in order. She looked cute mashing up the potatoes in her little apron, Mike standing to the side of her to watch her tits jiggling heavily.

When it came time to start frying the meat and saute the mushrooms, Mike had a wicked idea. He pulled the neck strap up over her head and let the front of the apron dangle down, exposing her breasts above the pans. Forcing her to stand close, the grease popped and splattered on her tits, Chelsea crying out as she tried to ignore the little stings. Her knees were still bowed inward a little, courtesy of her 'love for vegetables.'

“You have a big day tomorrow, slut.” Ryan grinned at her as she worked.

She looked apprehensive but kept cooking, flipping the steaks over. She winced as the grease flared up and splattered her tits.

“What do you mean, sir?” she asked, dreading the answer. “Ouch!”

“Well, we made a little arrangement with one of your former co-workers. Ricardo, I think it was?”

She stopped paying attention to the pan and looked at him. What sort of arrangement? That was the old bastard that gave her hell from day one, always talking down to her and giving her the creeps.

“He and some friends will pay some big money to see your useless ass put in its place. You will entertain them tomorrow.”

“I..what? No, no!” she pouted angrily, looking at Ryan. Seeing the anger flash in his eyes, she hastily added “I mean, is that really necessary Sir?” she forced herself to say calmly. It took all her willpower not to scream at him. “Don't you want me for yourself?” The grease popped again, making her yelp.

Ryan scoffed at her. “You value yourself far too much, little slut. All the more reason to take you down a peg or three. Mind the pan, you idiot girl.”

Quietly fuming, she finished cooking dinner and helped their plates. When she started to make her own plate, Mike grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“You are a bitch, are you not? Bitches eat scraps. You may sit at the table with us, because we are so generous, but your plate will be empty.”
“But- but I'm hungry! Can't I-....” she stopped midsentence, his withering glare shutting her up.
“Set the table, leave an empty plate for yourself.”

Pulling her apron back up over her boobs, she laid the two full plates on the table, and one empty one for herself. Ryan grabbed her right breast roughly as she passed by him, pulling her to a stop to face him.

“When you serve dinner, you will enter the room, curtsy, and announce it is ready. Do it now.”
“I don't know how to curtsy” she said tartly. This was getting ridiculous.

“You're so fucking useless. Watch.” He demonstrated the curtsy to her, like a father teaching his idiot daughter, and she would have laughed if she wasn't so afraid of him. It looked ridiculous to see a grown man curtsy, but she copied the gesture as best she could.

Holding the edges of her apron out, she crossed her feet and dipped down. “Dinner is served, Sirs.” She felt demeaned with the gesture, lessened. She blinked sadly.

“About time” said Mike. “Take off your apron and take your seat.”

Even though they had already fucked her throat and stuffed her with cucumber, she still blushed at being told to strip completely naked. Untying the apron, she folded it neatly and set it on the kitchen counter. Pulling out her chair she took her seat.

“ohhh...” she groaned softly, the fat end of the cucumber that poked out slightly from her twat pushing into the hard wooden seat. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Feeling a bit full, eh?” Mike's eyes glinted as he watched her, cutting into his steak with his knife.
“...yes sir.” she answered, eyes downcast.
“Don't pretend you don't love it. That pussy is hungry for vegetables, no? We will feed it a varied and healthy diet, don't worry.” Her love tunnel tightened at his words as she shifted again, fearfully squeezing down on the cucumber. She wished she could take off her makeshift duct tape 'panties' and pull it out.

She sat quietly, watching the two men scarf down their food. Apparently kidnapping girls took a lot of energy, she thought.

She wondered if she'd have the opportunity to just poison their food. As if reading her mind, Ryan addressed her.

“Just so you know, we will be watching you every time you cook. If anything tastes weird, or if we even suspect you did something to our food, we will kill you immediately.”

“I-I understand sir. I wouldn't ever do something like that.”
“Mhmm. Remember what I've said.” Leaning over to her plate, he scraped the fat and gristle he cut off his steak onto it. She stared at it.

Taking a swig of his glass of beer, Ryan started in on the rest of his meal. Mike wasn't a big fan of mashed potatoes and so ate very little of it, lazily scooping up small scoops and staring at Chelsea's tits. He made Chelsea go and get the steak she had cooked for herself and put it on his plate, opting to simply eat more meat to make up for it.

Full and satisfied, the pair stood up and walked their plates over to her. Ryan dumped what was left of his mushrooms on her plate, and Mike overturned his plate of fat, gristle, and a substantial lump of cold mashed potatoes. It wasn't a lot of food, and it looked disgusting with all the fat in it.

“...I'm not hungry” she said, looking with disdain at her plate.

“I don't care” said Mike. “We are not asking you to eat, we are telling you to. But first, you need your slut sauce.”

They stood to either side of the sitting girl and pulled their cocks out, as they bobbed gently in front of her face.

“Every dinner you will suck us off and spit the cum onto your food. Only then will you eat.”

Her face blanched white and she burst into tears.

“Hey. Slut. You have work to do.” Ryan smacked her cheek with his cock as her shoulders heaved.
*Slap!
Getting annoyed with her, he slapped her face. This only made her cry harder, but she turned her face and sucked his stiff cock yet again into her steamy fuckmouth.

She suckled him as he thrust back and forth, her sad sobs vibrating pleasantly on his cock. He didn't last long, and as he spurted into her mouth she held it there, looking up at him as he came. After he pulled free, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her face over her plate of food.

“Spit it out. All over that delicious meal of yours.” With snot running from her nose and tears down her face, she spit the thick fluid out, the white cream slowly dripping down all over the gristle and fat. Ryan released her hair and she turned towards Mike, dutifully milking his cock of his spunk. He took her hand and told her to gently massage his balls while she sucked.

She cupped them a little too hard and he shoved his cock down her throat and pinched her nose, watching her face turn red.
“Did I not tell you gently, slut?” She nodded as best she could, tears running down her face. Pulling back, he let her resume her blow job, her hand more delicately cupping his balls as she worked her mouth. He too finally came, and she spat out the viscous load all over her meal.

“See, it's not so bad. You can barely even see the slut sauce with those mashed potatoes mixed in there!”
“If you say so sir.” She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I do. Bon appetit whore. I expect that plate to be licked clean.”

Taking her spoon, for a fork wasn't necessary, she scooped up a morsel of potatoes and cum and put it in her mouth. It tasted awful, but the second bite was even worse with a large lump of fat mixed in it. Her stomach angrily protested to her, but she methodically worked her way through the entire plate, stopping occasionally to breathe through her nose for a few seconds, forcibly calming her stomach. She knew if she vomited again they would beat her.

Setting down her spoon, she picked up her plate and extended her little pink tongue. Softly she lapped at the plate until it was squeaky clean. Smiling at her, they made her get her apron and clean up the table and kitchen. She felt degraded when they made her lick their plates clean in the kitchen before being allowed to wash them with soap and water.

“It's getting pretty late slut” Mike said, checking the time. “You have a big day tomorrow, we're going to turn in. You staying the night as well, man?” he asked Ryan.

“Yeah, I'll go give that dumbass downstairs his soup then I'm going to crash too.”

“You hear that slut? We have an honored guest in our house tonight” mocked Mike. “You have a cell in the basement but I think tonight you will keep Ryan warm.”

Tired, naked, and wanting to be left alone, Chelsea weakly answered “o-okay.”

While Ryan went downstairs, Mike took her outside in the freezing snow to 'bathe' her. He unceremoniously ripped off the duct tape panties, making her squeal, and pulled the fat cucumber from her tired cunt.

*Slap!
He gives her pussy a hard spank, making her yelp as her thighs snap shut. Turning on the hose, he sprayed the shivering girl down head to toe, and threw a bar of soap at her. Standing in the buff in snow in the middle of the night, she lathered herself up with shivering hands.

“More. Nice and sudsy. Don't forget to wash under those fat titbags. Here, I'll help you.”

He grabs her hard nipples, but loses his grip due to the slippery soap. Trying again, he dug the sharp edge of his fingernails into the teats, squeezing excruciatingly tight as she whimpered. He pulled straight up, and she rose up on tip toe trying to relieve the strain.

“Ow- ouch! P-please i-i-it hhurts!” her chattering teeth made it hard to talk. It felt like his nails were about to pierce through her nipples!
“Then hurry up and wash, I don't have all day!”
Her shaky hands shot up with the soap and washed the undersides of her tits, and all around her chest. As she washed, Mike jiggled her tits by the nipples, watching as they swayed heavily, the pain shooting through her abused tips. Satisfied, Mike released her and she dropped back down to her heels, moaning as her tits wobbled back into place, deep red indentations adorning her frigid teats.

He hosed her down again, making sure to get all the soapy suds from her body. She wriggled and writhed under the freezing stream, and nearly had a heart attack when he suddenly shoved the nozzle up her pussy, rinsing her out.

“Oh gggod!!!” She squirmed and clutched at the hand holding the hose, his other hand gripping her ass. Her lips starting to turn blue, he finally pulled the hose from her and let her go back inside.

After drying off and brushing her teeth, she was made to get into the guest room bed with Ryan for the night. She was still cold, so the heat from another body actually felt really good to her. Ryan chained her wrist to the foot of the bed. She had to climb up on top of him and suck his semi-soft cock into her mouth, and he told her not to take it out until morning. She straddled his head, legs spread, and he spent a while just inhaling her scent, his cock growing harder in her mouth, occasionally licking along her entire slit and sucking on the nub of her clit. Tomorrow was going to be a great day.

Eventually he tired of her pussy in his face and pushed her legs to the side, but she had to remain with his cock in her mouth until morning. Her mind turned over the events of the day. If she tried to make a run for it or get help, her brother would be killed. She had to obey these horrible men, she didn't know what else she could do. She cried herself to sleep, softly sobbing to not disturb him, and let her tears fall onto his crotch.

-------------------

When morning came, Ryan woke up first. His cock was still in Chelsea's mouth, and he could feel her soft breathing from her nose as she slumbered. Moving carefully, he gently pulled himself from her mouth and slowly slid his legs out from under her. She fidgeted and muttered something sleepily, but did not wake.

Slipping out of bed, he walked around quietly and unlocked her chained wrist from the foot of the bed. He watched her sleep for a minute, then decided it was time to get the day started.

He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her right off the bed, her eyes opening in alarm just a split second before her full chest came crashing to the floor. She wheezed as her milk ducts flattened, crushed by her own weight, and she bonked her forehead painfully on the ground.

“Ahh! What the-” she kicked her legs, but he started dragging the girl out the door, heading for the kitchen.

“Morning bitch! I hope you slept well last night, because you have a big day today!” Her nipples chafed on the carpet as he drug her along, her boobs dragging up towards her neck. Trying to protect her chest she rose up on hands and elbows as she slid, kicking to break his grip but failing.

“What is wrong with you? Let me go!”
“Oh no sleepy head. You need to get started on breakfast!”

Dragging her all the way to the kitchen, he released her ankles and she clambered to her feet. Her hair was disheveled and her face flushed. She looked hot, he thought.

Throwing her apron at her, she sighed wearily and put it on. Mike, hearing the commotion, made an appearance himself, coming over to 'wish her good morning' before shoving his tongue down her throat. She recoiled at the intimacy, but kissed him back as he reached down and pushed her apron aside to pinch her labia together. Rolling them back and forth between thumb and forefinger, she gasped quietly.

"Did you sleep well slut?" Mike asked, still gently squeezing her supple lips together, looking right in her face.
"Y-yes, I guess..." the red faced girl's thighs squeezed around his hand as she fidgeted, clearly embarrassed at his touch.

Turning his wrist, Mike wormed his middle finger up her still dry pussy, and started gently fucking her with it.
"oh... don't..."
"I think we'd like eggs and bacon this morning. What do you think Ryan, sound good?" Her pussy started to wetten slightly and his finger slipped easier into her depths.
"Yeah man, that sounds good to me."

"Oh, and coffee of course" Mike added, now scissoring two fingers up into Chelsea's quivering hole. "okay... I can do that...." She squirmed and tried to pull away from him, and he laughed and gave her a gentle shove. When she turned around, he slaps her exposed ass, leaving a small amount of her own wetness on her cheeks. Blushing, she turns on the oven.

She pulls out 2 pans and rummages what she needs from the fridge. She gets the bacon in the oven, and sets some eggs next to the other pan. Ryan walks up behind her as she works, and suddenly smacks his hand onto her ass, squeezing her bare right ass cheek while he speaks to her.

"Bitch, get us some coffee. Do you expect us to just sit around here without something to drink?"
"S-sorry!" startled, she starts messing with the coffee maker, and soon the aroma of fresh brew fills the kitchen.

Setting two mugs in front of them, she pours their cups. Before she can get away, Ryan grabs her breast over her apron, and yanks her to his side.

"Ow! What? What?" she squirms a little, and her cheeks color when he pulls her apron's neck strap over her head, exposing her titties.
"I wouldn't mind some milk in my coffee" he says smiling, palming her left breast and tweaking the nipple.
"That's so gross! A-and I can't do that anyway..." she tried to wiggle free, but he grabs her nipple tightly and pulls down, bending her over his mug.
"Not any grosser than cow's milk. And you would say that whether you were lactating or not. There's only one way to know for sure."

Grasping her boob, he roughly squeezes and starts tugging on her nipple in a milking motion, looking for any signs of the girly cream from her teat. Mike sets his cup in front of her other boob and joins him, firmly compressing her tit with one hand and excessively jerking her pink nipple with the other. Her hands braced herself against the table's surface.

"S-Stop! I don't have any milk! Ouch!"
"Maybe we're not doing it hard enough. Really work the whore's bags, Mike!"
Not getting any result, they tighten their grips painfully on her empty breasts, hoping the extra pressure might coax out some motherly dairy. Furiously pulling on her tit tips, their rough calloused hands tug and yank on her sensitive flesh, her tits aching in protest. She tried to pull away from them, but only added more strain to her poor titties, so she stopped and just gritted her teeth.

"I have an idea, hold the bitch for a second Mike." Ryan released her right breast but the relief was short lived, Mike reaching over and clutching her nipple, holding her in place. Ryan quickly shuffled through the kitchen drawer and found the little bundle of twine that was used to tie up poultry and meats. Tying a quick slipknot in it, he returns to the table and he and Mike slip the large loop of twine over both her sore globes, only bringing the string halfway up her mammaries.

"What the heck are you doing, there's no mil - Ahh!!"
With Mike tugging her nipples down, Ryan yanked on the twine, savagely shrinking the loop down and cinching both her boobs halfway up, pulling them together.
"Ouch! That hur--owww!" Keeping the twine pulled taut, her tits looking like they had been cut in half, Ryan wraps them in the same spot 5 more times and ties it off, each wrap increasing the pressure in her barren milkbags.

Her fat nipples swelled further under the treatment, and they once again gripped her sore mammaries in their iron grips, resuming the forceful milking. Sinking their fingers into her udders deeply with one hand and with the other furiously working her nipples with renewed yanking tugs, they tried with all their might to get even just one drop of milk out of her. They were disappointed.

“Ahh! Godd stop! Ah! Ahh owww”
“Well...I guess you really are dry. Not even your tits do what they're supposed to.” Ryan muttered sadly as he manhandled the whimpering whore. “I suppose that's something we can try to fix later.”
“I-I told you! Just, let me go! Ohhhhh!!!” Giving her nipple a savage parting twist and holding it there, Ryan again yanks and 'milks' her hard for a few seconds, Mike grinning and copying him. Their teat-pinching hands practically punching up into her chest, her pumping, twisted titties make her flinch, her face cringing. They release her and she instantly retreats from the table, the humiliated young woman cradling her cruelly strangled boobs, feeling like a cow.

“I can't believe you did that to me...” she picks at the twine, the knot super tight, and releases her bound up mammaries. She stares at them while she holds her chest, and the smell of the bacon filled the room.

“Finish with breakfast” said Mike. “You can play with your tits later.” Looking at him angrily, she storms off to the range, pulling her apron back up over her boobs as she walks.

“Tits out slut!” Ryan barks behind her. “You know what to do when you're frying food.” Flustered, she drops the top down again, her red-ringed fatsacks bouncing back into the free air.
The bacon nearly done, she starts cracking eggs in the pan, the sizzling grease popping and splattering on her chest. She throws the shells into the trash under the sink, not without some attitude. The eggs cooking nicely, Mike tells her to start licking the empty eggshells clean.

“W-what?”
“I said take out those egg shells and lick them clean. Those cost money, are you trying to waste my food?”
“But... I could get sick! Ah!” The grease popped again on her tits.
Raising an eyebrow, Mike looked at Ryan. “I guess the dumbass downstairs doesn't get any food today.”
“Looks that way” he answered, shrugging.
“No! No, wait, here, I'll do it!” Picking up an eggshell from the trash can, she sticks her tongue out and laps up remnant raw egg, then picks up another. She stops briefly to flip the eggs in the pan, looking sick, then picks up another eggshell. Licking them all clean, she feels a little queasy, especially after the one with a fat glob of yellow yolk stuck to it.

She takes the eggs off the burner and wipes her chest with a towel, before pulling her apron back up. Helping their plates, she does her little curtsy and announces breakfast is ready.

Sitting naked at the table again with her empty plate, she watches her captors stuff their faces with the delightful smelling food. She wished she could eat some of it, it looked so good...

Saving her some bits for her portion, they dump their scraps onto her plate: some pieces of cold egg and chewed off bacon, the meat intentionally bitten off leaving mostly fat.

“That food is still too warm for you slut, get under the table and suck our cocks while it cools off.”
“...fine.”
They stay in their chairs as she slides onto the floor, crawling under the table to each one and fishing their cocks out of their pants. Wrapping her lips around Ryan's hard shaft, she sucks and massages the cock with her tongue, and gently cups the balls, sadly waiting for the inevitable splash and taste of cum. They continue to make conversation with each other as if she doesn't exist, as if she's not worth noticing.

Suddenly tensing up for a moment, Ryan looks down at her and speaks. “On your plate.”

Mouth full of his jizz, she crawls out from under the table and walks to her plate, bending over and spitting it all over her scraps. Slipping under the table again over to Mike, she blows him as well, except he pulls her all the way down his cock at the last minute, spearing her throat painfully.

Chelsea gurgles as the fat head pierces her gullet, and his cum floods straight down to her stomach. Coughing, she pulls herself off of him with a wet, lewd pop, a small string of cum and spit briefly stretching from her lips to his twitching manliness.

“ugh, god”
“Looks like you get to enjoy half your slut sauce directly this morning bitch, I was feeling generous. Say thank you.”
“...thank you” her voice was thick with cum while her eyes watered. She makes her way back to her chair.

“You may eat.”
Scooping up bits of egg, bacon, and cum, she shuffles it into her mouth and chews as little as possible, opting to swallow whatever she can. The eggs weren't so bad, it was mainly the cum and bacon fat that was so gross... maybe she could deal with this sort of thing. She soldiered through her plate and looked up when Mike set both their coffee mugs in front of her, each with a small amount of room temperature coffee in it, it having lost its warmth long ago.

“Swallow that down too while you're at it. It's good practice, and you're basically a dumpster anyway.”
Looking hateful but resigned, she quickly pours one cup, then the other into her mouth and gulps it down, shuddering at the bitter cold taste. She gathers their plates up and brings them back to the kitchen, dressed in her apron, and licks them all clean before washing them in the sink.

Reaching out for the greasy pans, they stop her. “Don't forget to lick those as well. Waste not.”
She glares at them and complains “it's literally just fat and grease. I'm not eating that.”

Smiling coldly, Ryan grabs her arms and pins them behind her back. “Stop! I don't want to-” she's cut off as Mike grabs her hair roughly, and slides the dirty egg pan onto the counter in front of her. Manhandling her by her hair, he pushes her head down and rubs her face all through the grease while she shrieked.

“You think what you want matters? Lick it up, bitch! Lick it up!” Her scalp burns as he drags her face through the dregs of her cooking, and she starts to cry.
“o-okay! I'm s-sorry!”
“Now!”
Sticking her tongue out, he roughly smears her face around like a rag as she licks and swallows, lapping up the buttery grease from the dirty egg pan. It looked fairly clean to begin with, so he pulls that one out and shoves the bacon pan next under her nose. Smashing her face down into the grease, she again starts licking.

Seeing she was cooperating, he releases the hair of the sobbing girl and lets her lick the rest up without his help. The bacon grease was full of fat and thick and cold, and it was all she could do to force herself to swallow it down. Finally she lifted her teary face from the pan and looked up at Mike, her lips, nose, and cheeks glistening.

“I..I did it...” she sniffled, Ryan still pinning her arms behind her.
“You need to learn to obey without question, slut” Ryan sternly told her. “It would be much easier for you.”
“Yes sir....” she started crying again and he released her. Wiping her face off with a slice of bread, soaking up the grease and tears, he shoves it into her mouth so she can chew it up and finish the job.

As she swallowed the bread, looking miserable, Mike decided to test her.
“Show me you understand slut. Get on your knees and open your mouth.”
“o-okay” Why wouldn't they leave her alone this morning? She sank to her knees and parted her lips, her steamy fuckmouth ready for whatever he had in mind.

Standing in front of her, she winced as she heard him hocking back his spit, gathering a massive amount of mucus. Leaning over her, he let it drip into her mouth, the slimy spit slowly running down over her tongue. She gagged but kept her mouth open as Ryan turned her head and followed suit, his spit having the distinct flavor of the breakfast he just ate.

“Go ahead and swallow that too, then we'll get going.” Closing her mouth, she gulped and the spit flowed down her throat, moving so slowly she could still feel it sliding after she had swallowed. Pulling her upright, they rip the apron off the degraded girl, her kitchen duties completed, leaving her naked as a jaybird.

“We're going for a ride this morning. To your old workplace, actually.”
They were going to the warehouse? She had hoped they would at least meet the shitty middle aged man in private somewhere, not where she used to work.
“The warehouse isn't open on Saturdays sir...” she protested meekly. Her voice cracked at a weird pitch, their thick mucus still lining her throat as she swallowed, trying to clear it while her stomach churned.
“Ricardo will open the place up for us. They have a big day planned for you” Mike answered helpfully, her heart dropping.

Mike had approached Ricardo when he caught him staring at Chelsea through the window during their initial 'interrogation' of her. Mike had intercepted him to threaten him into silence, but was pleasantly surprised after speaking to the man. Apparently the guy thought she was haughty and took an immediate disliking to the girl. When Mike offered to let him and his buddies have their way with her, for a not modest fee of course, he happily accepted. He had rounded up a few of his buddies at the warehouse, and they agreed to bring her there on Saturday. They would all split the price tag.

She'll generate far more wealth as a fucktoy than working in a warehouse, he thought. Any earnings would go to him though, of course. He wasn't opposed to the idea of whoring her out occasionally for some extra cash. Speaking of cash, he would empty out her bank accounts tomorrow, after purchasing a one way ticket to somewhere far away; part of his plan to stage her mysterious disappearance. Of course, his friends at the station would ensure any investigation never got that far in the first place, especially when she would be available for their use.

Today wasn't just about the money though. Chelsea was a reluctant slut, and the more abused and degraded he could make her, the better. It was hard for her to accept her new position, so some extra guys beating her foolish pride out of her would be a great help.

Ryan walked towards her holding a small chained apparatus. As he got closer, Chelsea could see the gleaming steel clamps.

“W-what's that, sir?” she asked nervously. In response he just palmed her left breast, hefting its weight, giving it a gentle squeeze. Opening the jaws of the clamp, he snapped it shut over her nipple as Chelsea squealed.

“Aii! Ouch!” She grabbed at the clamp, and was promptly slapped across the face.
“Do not touch those! You will leave them on as long as we say!”
“Ohhhh but it hurts! Oh my god!” She kept her shaking hand away from the nipple clamp, and howled again even louder when he clamped the other heavy tit. A chain connected the two clamps together, and a length of thin black rope was tied in the middle, serving as a leash.

Ryan gave an experimental tug on her tit leash, walking back a few steps, smiling as she quietly yelped and walked forward to relieve the strain. Looking thoughtful, he reached up and tightened the nuts on the clamps while she moaned, making sure her leash would not accidentally come off.

Heading out from the house, they again took the squad car, Ryan and Mike dressed in their officer's clothing, Chelsea in her birthday suit. They led her out by her tit leash, and pushed her into the back seat again, dark tinted windows cracked open to the wintry air. At least they didn't hose her off this morning, she thought.

A good 40 minute drive later, and they pulled up to the large warehouse on the outskirts of the city. They could see one of the side doors cracked open, with an ecstatic looking Ricardo beckoning them over.

Ryan looked back at Chelsea through the wire mesh window separating them. She was shivering in the back seat, her nearly purple nipples looking like they would burst any second under the pressure. They throbbed constantly in waves.

“Are you ready to earn your keep, slut? Anxious to see some of your old friends?”
She started to answer but said nothing. Ryan narrowed his eyes.
“Remember, you were made to serve any cock. Any. You will not refuse any man anything today. If you do, well...I fear for Andy's safety. Understand?”
“...yes, I understand sir.”

----------------------------

Mike pulled open the back door of the squad car and grabbed the leash leading to Chelsea's nipple clamps. He roughly yanked her out of the car, to the audible cheers and jeers of the men watching from the warehouse. Chelsea blushed red instantly, all too aware these were people she had worked alongside of.

Yanking her tits out into cones, Chelsea walked faster and followed the lead of her leash, as Mike led her like a dog to the warehouse door. Beckoning them inside, Ricardo took the proffered leash from Mike as he greeted the men.

“Welcome my friends.”
“Ricardo. I trust you have our money?”
“Of course, of course!” he smiled nastily, and quickly pushed an envelope into Ryan's hands.

While Ryan glanced through the envelope, counting the bills, Ricardo pulled straight down on Chelsea's leash, pulling her nipples straight down towards the floor. She cried out and after a moment's struggle dropped to her knees, looking up hatefully at the horrible man.

“You were always too stuck up, even on day one you thought you were better than everyone else” his eyes narrowed, and he spit in her face.

“I thought better of you” she said quietly, a tear rolling down her face.
“I didn't think better of you. I know what you are, whore, and today, you'll know it too” he handed her leash to a bald man behind him, who instantly tugged her to her feet and half dragged her towards a group of about 25 men deeper in the warehouse. His friends brought friends.

“Hey Baby! Don't remember you lookin' this good before!”
“Hot damn those are some nice titties. You like that jewelry princess?”
“Get over here bitch, Daddy's waitin'!”

“We'll be staying and observing. Protection of property and all that.” Mike said. “But you are free to do to her what you like, barring any permanent damage.”

“Of course” Ricardo grinned.

“Also,” Ryan warned “we are the police in this city. I assure you, if any of you suddenly grow a conscience, no report will get filed. The only thing that will happen is you and your families will disappear. You may want to remind them of that.”

“I already have” Ricardo gulped somewhat nervously. “None of us will talk. This is too good a thing to mess up.”
Ryan smiled. “Then by all means. Have fun.”

-------------------

Chelsea was being passed around like a basket of breadsticks. In the grip of one large man, he had snaked his tongue down her throat and was pawing at her clamped titties. As she tried not to vomit while his fat, slobbering tongue ran all over her own, her nipples were suddenly yanked hard by the tit leash and she was spinning towards another man. Wasn't his name Pete? And that guy over there was...John I think? She barely recognized only a few of them, having only worked in the warehouse for a week before her abduction.

She didn't have too much time to ponder his name, as he had only just started to play with her generous funbags when someone walked behind her and spanked her hard on the ass.

*Slap!
“Ah! P-please, you all” Slap! “don't have to be so rough...”
Slap! Slap! Slap!

Her ass cheeks were suddenly pulled apart, her small asshole winking up at them and she flushed in humiliation. She felt a fat thumb worm its way up inside her. “Ungh!”

Meanwhile, someone was again sticking their tongue down her throat, Chelsea doing her best to kiss him back. She knew if she didn't please these men Ryan and Mike would take it out on her and Andy later.

*Clap! *Clap! *Clap! *Clap! *Clap! *Clap! The thumb up her butt started banging into her, the clapping sound of her ass cheeks filling the room. The men around her in a circle cheered, her burning asshole swallowing the fat digit over and over again.

“Hey man, let's see that pretty pussy!” “Yeah, come on!”

Suddenly thrown to the ground, face down, a boot stepped on her tit leash, not letting her rise more than 2 inches from the floor. Her ass was raised and her legs spread on her knees, another boot briefly bashing down onto the small of her back to arch her prettily, and she was told to hold that position. Kneeling down, an overweight guy pried her sex lips apart, gripping each tightly between his thumb and forefinger, and her cheeks darkened furiously.

Her delicate pink exposed to the men, the air was filled with catcalls and cheers. Changing tactics, the man pushed three fingers of his right hand into her, stretching her walls as Chelsea moaned.

“Ohhh...god” the stretching sensation almost felt good, and she wondered what was wrong with her.
“That's it bitch. Open up for us, you will need to take more than that before the day is over.” With his other hand he pinched her sensitive clit, shaking it roughly side to side for a moment while she squirmed.

He started making a scissoring motion with his fingers, pushing her walls even wider. The rough calloused fingers stimulated her sensitive pink and she moaned. Unable to help herself, she bucked a little on his hand, helping him worm his way even deeper inside.

“Hey look at that, she likes it.”
*Whistle “That cunt is just too damn hot. Hang on a sec!” A younger looking guy ran off to the door, and some of the guys looked after him puzzled. Mike and Ryan stopped him and talked quietly for a second, before letting him pass.

Pushing the fat guy aside, the men took turns fingering her snatch, as Chelsea moaned louder and louder, her body treacherously moistening. She tried to rise up a few times but was always held down fast by her nipples, the crushing pulsing caused by her tit leash not ever abating.

Returning, the young man held a thick looking icicle in his hand, with a dull, but small point. “This will cool that cunt off, we fuck her now, it'd probably burn up our dicks!” The guys laughed and waved him over.

“Wh-what does he have? What are-Ahh! AHH! Don't! NNNNGH!” Chelsea didn't even see it coming as 8 inches of frozen ice was shoved up her steaming fucktube. She writhed and squeezed down on it, trying to push it out.

“T-take it out! Ngh!” They started fucking her in and out with it, the melting water mixing with her own juices. She was definitely nice and wet inside, and her insides ached from the cold as her very womanhood was chilled.

Suddenly using both thumbs, the icicle was shoved all the way up her cunt, and the dull pointed end wedged inside her cervix. Her little womb hole stretched open slightly, swallowing about half an inch of ice, and Chelsea squealed. Laughing, they rotated it back and forth while she bit her lower lip, trying to cope with the pain and freezing cold sensations emanating from her baby factory.

“Unhh!!! Ohhhh!” The scraping ice sunk another quarter of an inch into her womb, dilating the tight little hole a few more millimeters. Her nipples correspondingly stretched a little farther as she tugged on them harder, trying to get up and get away, the boot on her leash still anchoring her to the floor.

“You like that bitch? That feel good?”
“N-no! Ngh! I...I hate it! Ugh! Ungh!” She thrashed wildly, pulling on her tortured nipples, until finally the left clamp, millimeter by agonizing millimeter, slid off the stiff nubbin. Partially free and gasping, she rolled over on her back, and the men laughed. They unclamped her other nipple and pulled the icicle from her icy box, slapping her chilled pussy in admonishment.

Throwing her face up on a nearby work table, they started to slap her pussy again even harder. The blows rang out like thunderclaps, somewhat magnified by the spacious warehouse.

Slap! “Ungh!” Slap! “G-god!” SLAP! “UNGH!”

Her sex lips were rapidly reddening again, the blows causing her warm blood to pound through her delicate sex, bringing warmth and greater sensation. Slap! Slap! Her thighs clamped shut on the hand delivering the last slap, but her legs were promptly wrenched open. Slap! SLAP!

“P-Please! Don't hurt me!” she cried, but her entreaties fell on deaf ears. Suddenly the overweight man from before sat on her stomach, and Chelsea could barely get a breath in, his weight crushing her. He roughly smeared the discarded icicle from before between her tits, briefly pushing it against her nipples to watch them pucker up in protest. With the mixed water and pussy juice coating her cleavage, he maneuvered his cock between her titties and started to titfuck her in earnest.

While fatass was going to town on her tits, another man lined his dick up and suddenly pushed inside her pussy. She reflexively squeezed down on him, milking his cock, and he plowed into her with a vengeance. A small line was forming behind him, everyone eager to partake in her cunt.

He gripped her hips and pumped her womb full of his cum, Chelsea faintly feeling the splash as he did his best to fill her to the brim. The next guy up abruptly shoved his huge dick in her recently baptized cunt once, covering it with her natural lube and making her thighs twitch, and then pushed his cock up into her ass, Chelsea's eyes bulging in her head.

“oh...oh...oh! That hurts!” she complained, finding having her ass reamed to not be a pleasant past time. Fatass finally blew his load between her tits, and her face was covered in the sticky stuff, humiliating her even more. She sobbed when he climbed off her, her breath hitching from her enthusiastic buttfuck. She felt him blow his load up her backside, her bowels filling with cum, and watched dismayed as the next man stepped up, plunging his cock up her sore twat.

How long would it take to satisfy them all?

-----------------------

Chelsea had been getting fucked for hours and hours. She could only satisfy a few men at a time, so while she was being put through her paces all the other guys could rest and get ready for their next go. Vaginally, anally, orally, she must have taken a gallon of cum by now. Her blonde hair, usually so beautiful, was matted to her face with sweat and cum, painting a nice complement to her tears. Her mouth was slightly bloodied in the corner, a few of the guys slapping some sense into her whenever she got it into her mind to protest her mistreatment.

Her sodden pussy, getting more and more sloppy as time went on, tiredly flexed and writhed around their shafts. Sometimes out of pain, other times out of pleasure, and usually out of both, her intimate feminine muscles wrung the semen from their balls, spasming uncontrollably from so much contracting, only to be forcibly stretched wide open again and again. When her exhausted, loosened fuckhole would be leaking too much cum, they'd occasionally rinse her out with a water bottle. Beginning anew, they would pull her up by her hips and make her lick and suck the wet mess off the filthy floor while they speared into her freshened cunt again. This ensured she had a healthy fluid intake.

Unable to hold it, she really needed to pee twice, and finally resorted to begging to be allowed to go, terrified she would be forced to drink her mess off the floor if she had an accident. Each time she was drug by her ankles to the bathroom, the whole pack of guys going with her, staring at her through the open door and a handful crowding into the stall. Making her stand on the seat, squatted down with her legs spread, she had to pull her glistening swollen lips open and pee, cum occasionally dripping down, while they all taunted her and cheered, the mortified girl wanting to shrink into nothingness.

Resuming their activities, some of the guys were eating sandwiches and drinking coffee, recharging their batteries as they watched her. Chelsea currently had her wrists and elbows taped together behind her back with clear packing tape. This had the effect of pushing her meaty tits out even farther. She was on her knees, sucking off a man sitting on a foldable chair, while another buttfucked her from behind. Her tortured asshole burned under the sodomy, but had thus far successfully swallowed every cock given to it. She couldn't support herself with her hands, so her fuckbags were crushed into the knees of the guy she was blowing, the thrusts into her ass driving her forward.

“Make sure you swallow the load bitch” growled the man in her mouth, and Chelsea moaned an affirmative into his cock. Pushing her nose all the way down to the base, he spurted and whitewashed her throat yet again, as she swallowed and swallowed. He pushed her off his lap to the floor, the guy behind her getting angry when his cock popped out of her shapely butt with a pop!

Thrown up on the table again, her knees were pushed up and back towards her armpits, and her pink pussy, wet with pussy juice and cum, start to open slightly under the pressure.

“ohhhh....” she groaned in pain as they pushed her calves back as well, pushing her legs wide open into a split, her feet nearly touching the table over her head, spread wide. Her hips ached, protesting the tension.

“You look like you could use a pick me up as well, bitch. Here, have some coffee.” Her face blanched white as she saw the man approach, coffee pot in hand. The coffee had been off the burner and so wasn't boiling hot, but it was definitely still steaming.

“n-no, I'm ok really! Don't! Please!” she tried to get up but was held down firmly, her legs still splayed wide, her sex on full display. Four thin pencils were shoved up her cunt, as deep as they would go, and they were each pulled apart in opposite directions, stretching her protesting tube wide open! She grit her teeth as their sharpened points stabbed and scraped her pussy's innermost pink.

Slowly the pot was turned, until a thin stream of hot coffee poured out and landed squarely in her splayed out cunt.

“aaahhHH! Stop! AHHH it's burning me!!!” she wailed loudly as her sex tube slowly started filling up. It was a very light burn, but to Chelsea it felt like she was on fire from the inside. Hot steamy vapors rose up out of her cunt as the water line inched its way up higher and higher.

Filled to the brim and crying piteously, Chelsea could only lay there, held pinned down, her arms taped behind her back. Releasing her legs, her feet sprang back down as the tension was relieved, and she squeezed her cunt muscles and thighs together tightly, curling up halfway on her side. The coffee ran from her in rivulets, and the men laughed at her as she cried, her abused kitty newly sensitized and aching even more.

“Bet you miss your little icicle now, huh bitch?” Laughter rang out over the warehouse floor, and Chelsea closed her eyes. What time was it anyway? Surely they were almost finished now...just a little bit longer.

She was startled from her thoughts when she heard a dog's bark. Ricardo was leading his pet St. Bernard out from the break room, the massive dog sniffing the air. It instantly picked up the smell of her sex with its sensitive nose, already very familiar with the similar fuck-me scent of Ricardo's wife. Chelsea looked at the dog with a growing sense of dread. They didn't expect her to...?

Ryan's words echoed through her memory. 'Remember, you were made to serve any cock. Any.'

Looking alarmed, she was jerked to her feet when a large man grabbed her and started hauling her towards the middle of the warehouse.

“No! No! I won't do it! No!” she struggled and fought against him, but with her arms taped up behind her it was a losing effort. They tried to get her on her knees while Ricardo approached with the dog, but she fought and wiggled with all her strength. Ricardo looked over at Mike and Ryan, and Mike simply nodded at the man, giving his apparent approval for something.

“Bitches fuck dogs, and you are a bitch” Ricardo sneered at her nastily. “Since you don't understand that, we'll have to apply some attitude adjustment.”

Chelsea shivered. “No, I won't fuck a dog! I won't! Sir, please, don't make me do that!” she wailed.

Ricardo looked at her coldly, and simply said “string her up.”

She was hauled upright by two men, a third approaching with thin white rope. With her wrists and elbows taped together behind her, her mouthwatering boobs were thrust forward prominently, begging for attention. Starting with the left boob, he encircled the base of her tit with the rope, and pulled the cinching loop tight. Chelsea gasped.

“Ouch! What are you-ngh!” One man pulled on one end of the rope, and another the other end. Both men pulled with all their strength using both hands, tightening the constricting rope as much as possible. Chelsea's eyes bulged out of her head when they encircled her breast for another wrap. And another. And another.

Pulling and tugging hard, their muscles flexing powerfully, Chelsea's left breast looked like a garroted mushroom, bulging obscenely. She moaned piteously, and watched despairingly as they started to tie her right breast as well. They used the same rope, joining the two trussed up titties together with a short length between them. She could feel her pulse in her tits, the rope so excruciatingly tight she could barely think straight through the throbbing. Behind her, a forklift was being driven up from the back.

“Ohhhh god that hurts! Ohhhh” They hooked the rope running between her breasts to a hooked clevis, which they attached to a strap that they threw around the lift's forks. Holding her so she couldn't run, she watched in almost slow motion as the forks tilted back and began to rise, taking the slack out of the strap. Up and up it extended, until it started to pull up on her cinched breastflesh, stretching her mushroomed tits up from her chest wall.

“Stop, you can't do this! Don't!” she cried, as more and more slack was taken. Finally she stood on her tip toes, barely touching the ground with her feet, her breasts pounding.

And then she was raised even further. Her toes left the floor a good 3 inches, her entire weight hanging suspended from her cruelly restrained fuckbags. Her swollen tips pointed out like little daggers as they inflated under the severe stress.

*Gasp “Ohhhh...” she moaned almost constantly, and nearly passed out when Ricardo pushed her, setting her to lightly swinging.

Using rope and a piece of strut, they fit her with a makeshift spreader bar, forcing her legs wide apart while she hung suspended. Through her tears, she watched the men take their belts off and circle around the dreadful forklift.

“Will you fuck the dog, pretentious bitch?” Ricardo asked her.
“Fuck you!” she screamed at him, not coping with the pain and stress very well.

Smiling, Ricardo took aim first, and swung his belt up squarely between her legs, smacking her right on her delicate pussy lips!

*Crack!
“AAAAIEEE!!”

*Crack! “NNNNGHH!!!!”
*Crack! “AHHHHH”

The men each took turns belting her between the legs, her pretty labia reddening rapidly under the rough onslaught. Her inner tissues already burned and ached from the coffee they poured into her, and now her outer lips were receiving their share of the punishment.

*Crack! “nghh! *Crack! “AHH!” That one hit particularly nastily, angling just right to kiss her little hidden clit. She looked over desperately at Mike and Ryan, hoping they'd do something to help her, but when she caught Ryan's eye she only saw disappointment. Her heart fell, no one would help her now.

They pussy whipped her for a good fifteen minutes, her shaking legs unable to close and protect her sacred entrance. Her tears had no effect on them, and she grunted and groaned with each blow. The chastised pussymeat looked swollen and deeply red when Ricardo held up his hand to stop the session. He leaned towards her, looking up at her face.

“Would you like us to stop strapping your cunt?”
She tried to say yes but her voice cracked, so she nodded pathetically. Snot ran from her nose and her eyes looked swollen.

'Almost as swollen as that cunt' thought Ricardo bemusedly.

They lowered her down, and unhooked her breast harness from the clevis. She sighed audibly as the tension was taken off her bloated titbags, now a deep dark red, threatening to turn purple.

Then she was suddenly flipped upside down, and her spreader bar was hooked into the clevis!

“W-wait! What are you doing! Nooo dooon't!” she cried out, scared of what was happening. Raising her up again, she now hung by her ankles, her legs still spread wide, blonde hair hanging towards the floor.

The young guy who stuffed her with icicle earlier came carrying a box of heavy wooden sorority paddles, pulled from the warehouse shelves. Each man present was given a paddle, and once again, Ricardo had the honor of first strike.

Her bulging titglobes were now the perfect height, and he swung his paddle powerfully into her breast. *Whomp! The jiggling titty danced on her chest, and Chelsea felt her breath whoosh out of her lungs. The blood pounding into her head from her upside down suspension, she watched the next paddle swing towards her before she could get her breath back.

*Whack! Her left breast was crushed, flattening her milk ducts within and setting the unfortunate girl to spinning in a circle. Disoriented and crying out, the men gathered around her like a pinata, smacking her fucksacks with the heavy wood, pounding an exciting rhythm of correction into her sensitive mammal flesh.

*Whomp! “UNGH!” *WHOMP! “UNGGGH!” *whack! *Splat! Her mind reeled, unable to process the pain. She never thought her breasts would be paddled. She never thought she'd be hanging upside down from a forklift either. She giggled to herself, her pain addled brain confusing her, before *WHOMP! “UNGH!” the men helped her find clarity again.

*Whack! *Whack! *Splat! *Whomp! *Whomp! Her cries were music to their ears, her groans and weeping the most powerful of aphrodisiacs. Often she would be set spinning one direction before, *WHOMP! another blow sent her rotating the other way. Her poor mushroomed tits were compressed to pancake thickness over and over again, her pointed breast-rope swollen nipples barbarically pounded into the soft boobflesh below.

She had no idea how long she was up there. It could have been 5 minutes, it could have been twenty. All she knew is she couldn't take it anymore.

*Whack! “unnnghhh! St-stop I'll...” *WHACK! “uhhhhh!”

“What was that whore?” Ricardo asked, watching her intently.

*Whomp! “Ungh!!! I'll f-f-fuck the d-dog...” *Whomp! “ughhhh!”
*WHOMP! “P-PLEASE! I'll f-fuck the dog!!!” *SPLAT! “UngH!”

Motioning for the men to stop, she swung gently back and forth, her momentum dying off.

“Took you long enough, you dumb cunt. I thought we were going to have to turn you into hamburger!” The forklift was lowered and she was taken down, the spreader bar removed from her ankles. Taking a knife, they cut the tape binding her arms behind her back. The strangling breast ropes were also cut free, and the blood began to flow anew into the bruised, brutalized breastflesh.

“Ohhhh God!” she cradled her mauled breasts gingerly, protectively covering them with her hands.
Slap! Slap! Ricardo slapped and backhanded her face, the weakened girl nearly falling over.

“No one said you could cover those fuckbags. Hands off!” She released her titties and nodded, eyes downcast.

“I, however, can!” he smiled as he sunk his long fingers into the aching tits, making her cry out, double checking that she was properly sensitized. Yanking and tugging on her mammaries, he hauled her back to the center of the floor, the massive St. Bernard lying down and watching.

Changing his grip to her nipples, he yanks down hard, making her sink to her knees.

“Well. Get to it then, bitch. Show us. Show us you will fuck a dog.”
*sniff “a-alright.”

Crawling to the dog on hands and knees, eyes watery, she pets his head and the dog looks at her happily. She couldn't be mad at the dog, but it didn't make this any easier.

Blushing all the way to her chest she pushed on his side, rolling him over, exposing his belly. Rubbing it with one hand, she tentatively reached down southward with the other, cupping his balls and gently massaging them. The men surrounding her hoot and holler, laughing at her intimate touch with the beast.

“Go on whore, get his dick wet!”
“You're gonna have to try harder than that!”

A large glass bowl is quickly brought over, and the men start jacking off, watching the spectacle in front of them.

Leaning down over the dog cock, she starts to lick around the entrance to the sheath, poking her tongue within. Moving back out, she licks around his balls and back to the sheath, watching the tip of the red rocket start to poke out. Fastening her lips around it, she sucks gently as it grows, filling more and more of her mouth.

She pops the expanding cock back out and licks the bottom of the shaft all the way down. The dog really liked that and his cock grew exponentially, the dog turning his head and sniffing at her, his back legs pawing the air stupidly.

Sucking him back in, she runs her tongue around his cock and suckles gently, and is treated to a small blast of doggy precum splashing into her mouth. She spits out the cock and gags, but knowing Mike and Ryan are watching her, manages to somehow swallow it down. Wiping her eyes, she leans down and licks the cock along the underside one last time, watching the big knot swelling up, then rolls the dog back over. Stroking themselves, a few of the men cum into the glass bowl as they watch her.

The St. Bernard, cock fully erect, stands behind her as she wiggles her ass in his face. Sticking his cold nose into her snatch, he breathes deeply, sniffing and licking her cunt as she moans. She's totally humiliated and feels like less than dirt as the dog laps at her cunt lips, her abused pussy sending the beginning stirrings of pleasure to her tired brain. She arches her back and leans her ass back, forehead resting on her clenched hands, and the dog's tongue starts to penetrate her, lapping up her juices within.

Having decided this was indeed a female with perfectly acceptable reproductive organs, the dumb dog jumps up onto her back and mounts her. She rises up to all fours, supporting both their weight as the large heavy dog stabs wildly with his cock, hoping one of the attempts will succeed and nestle himself inside her. She precariously holds them both up with one arm while using the other to quickly reach back between her legs, and guides the flailing cock into her pussy.

Feeling the tight constriction of her wet cunt, the dog knows he's hit home. He starts pumping fast and with a vengeance, his massive St. Bernard cock fully penetrating her and stretching her cunt open like a jackhammer. The men cheer as she is rutted like a bitch in heat, which of course she was.

The dog didn't hold out long, and starts flooding her cunt with watery canine cum, it running in little streams from her wetly squelching pussy. Chelsea cried and squeezed down with her pussy muscles, intimately pulling the spasming cock deeper into her. Seemingly unaffected by having just cum, the dog keeps rutting away, pounding her delicate sex box harder and harder, her breasts swinging wildly underneath her.

With dog cum running down her leg, the St. Bernard gives a mighty lunge and she feels the massive knot at the base of his cock wedging itself into her cunt. Startled, she tried to wiggle her hips away slightly but the dog is having none of it. Again and again he bashes his knot into her, as her lips stretch thinly, attempting to swallow the monster. She was still swollen from her earlier cunt strapping, making her entrance that much tighter.

“N...no! He's going to...ungh! UNGH!” hot tears flowing down her face, Chelsea squeals as the massive knot pops into her hungry pussy, the lips elastically snapping shut over the fat bulb. She groaned, the dog felt so deep inside her, and the knot kept twitching and sliding back and forth a little, the dog still trying to hump her while fully knotted. The dog cum running down her leg lessened somewhat, as the fat knot did its job and tried to plug the bitch up, sealing the potent cum within. Her womb was completely soaked with his cum, and she could feel it sloshing deep inside her as he came again.

During this whole ordeal, the men watching her have been slowly filling up the glass bowl with their own man cream. Chelsea, fully knotted and twitching, clawed her nails on the ground as the panting dog tried to dismount but was stuck by his knot. He spins around completely and his ass touches hers, and as he pulls she groans at the stress on her cunt.

Recalling how his useless struggling wife would often get stuck, Ricardo grabs the beast's collar, tugging him away from her, but Chelsea just moans and slides back with him, his knot pulling on her stuffed pussy.

“Hold up man, we'll hold her still!”
Two men kneel down in front of her head and each grab a handful of Chelsea's weighty hanging breastmeat. Squeezing tightly with her nipples pressing into their palms, their fingers digging into her underboobs as they crush her entire bosom, the two guys lean backwards as Ricardo and the dog tug the other way.

“UgggghhhH!!” *sob
All color drained from her sex lips and they look like they are about to split as the knot starts to exit, her entrance tightly wrapping over the wide fleshy bulb. Seeing that's it's going to come free, one of the guys rushes over with the glass bowl and holds it between her legs, under her sopping, swollen tight cunt. The guys redouble their grip on her paddled titties and tug harder, using their weight and leg muscles, and Chelsea loudly whimpers.

With a wet sucking sound, the dog finally pops free, and her spasming cunt dribbles copious amounts of dog cum into the bowl.

Debased and completely degraded, she doesn't even say anything when they sit her back upright, resting on her knees, watery cum still leaking onto the floor between her legs underneath her. Ricardo raises a nearly full glass bowl to her lips, the smell of the mixed cum powerfully assaulting her senses, and she slightly opens her mouth, a tear rolling down her cheek. She worked with a lot of these people.

The bowl is upturned, the thick white cum sliding down into her mouth, filling it completely. He stops pouring.

“Tilt your head back. Gargle like the slut you are.” Eyeing him through half-lidded eyes, she does as she's told, and starts to gargle the cum. Thick white bubbles froth up around her lips and gently pop, as she stares at them all, totally defeated. While she gargled, one guy wiped her cunt and the cum off the floor with a rag and wrung it out over her bowl. No reason to leave a mess behind.

“Swallow.” Closing her mouth, she gulps and nearly vomits, but pushes the feeling down. She has to gulp twice more to empty her mouth, and when she's finished she opens her mouth to once again accept the bowl's contents.

“Swallow this time. Keep swallowing. Good.” She drinks from the bowl like it was soup broth, and her stomach starts to feel fuller and fuller. She tries to not think about what she is doing.

“Stop. Gargle.” Filling her mouth up, she begins blowing little air bubbles again, the taste of everyone's cum washing over her. Her tonsils, her throat, some bubbling up her nasal passage...so much cum. Standing over her, each of the 25 men spit into her gargling mouth, adding more fluid to her tasty drink. Some of it was brown-tinged from chewing tobacco, and some thick with mucus. It didn't matter; all was added.

“Swallow.” It felt slimier than the last mouthful, and had an even worse aftertaste. Slowly she works it all down, gulping twice to clear her mouth. She gasps when she opens her cum-glistening lips again, tears silently dripping down her cheeks.

The half empty bowl is lowered to her waiting mouth once more.

------------------------

Mike and Ryan were walking through the icy parking lot heading for the squad car, a tit-leashed Chelsea once again being pulled along after them by her most convenient handholds; her nipples.

Her tits elongated and tugged her along, and she walked unsteadily as she tried to keep up. She was still in mild shock, a sort of sexual PTSD, and couldn't wait to just get in the car.

“So, slut. You didn't want to fuck the dog, did you?” Ryan stated.
“...no sir.” she answered quietly.
“Do you remember what I told you? That you serve all cocks?”
“yes sir.”
“What part of that didn't you understand? Tell me, do you think you would have been spared some pain if you didn't resist?”
“...yes sir.”
“So what lesson have you learned today?”
“....that I'm a fucktoy, sir.”

Nodding, Ryan opened the back door as Mike got into the drivers seat. Shoving her in, they drove away, heading back home...with the rear windows cracked open.

--------------------

“Slut, it's time to exercise! Go get your workout stuff.”
Chelsea had just put a pot roast in the oven, her hair tied back in a messy bun, naked except for her little apron. Mike sat at the kitchen table, watching her. Sighing quietly, her face reddened slightly as she stripped off her apron and set it in the kitchen drawer. Walking to the fridge, she took our her stored, already filled water bottle from the back, then followed Mike to the living room.

In the corner was a box labeled “Fucktoy's Athletic Wear” next to a treadmill, a gift from Mike and Ryan to keep her in shape. It had been 2 weeks since her...acquisition, and she was expected to stay fit. She sat down in front of the box and pulled out some socks and a pair of pink sneakers, which she put on. Next she pulled out a fat, gleaming black buttplug and a very thin crotch strap.

“...it looks bigger sir” she said dejectedly, looking at the flared head with disdain.
“It is. You've been taking the other one so well that it was obviously too small. I want my fuckdoll to feel full.” The old smaller plug used to take her 5 minutes to insert, with plenty of lube...it was hardly easy. Her eyes started to water slightly.

“What do you say?”
“thank you sir.”
“For what?”
“...for thinking of me sir.”

She took the lube out of her box and coated the monster thoroughly, dreading the attempt. Bending over and lining the plug up with her little asshole, she pushed and tried to relax her butt. The plug sank in a little as the flared head stretched her, but not enough to slide in.

“Ugh. It's....there's no way!” Grunting and groaning, she pushed and wiggled the plug, her ass refusing to let more than half the plug slide up into her.

“I suggest you find a way, you dumb cunt.” Mike looked at her coldly, and Chelsea felt a pang of panic.
“Yes sir, I will, d-don't worry!” Looking around, she ran over to a bar stool in the corner and set the plug upright on the seat. Climbing up, she lined up that fat head between her cheeks again and sat down, using her body weight to her advantage.

“Ungh! Goddddd!” She sank a little lower, refusing to lift back up, putting a constant, terrible pressure on her asshole. She bit her lip in pain as slowly the widening head inched its way in, the tight ring of her butt nearly around the fat, tapered middle. So close!

Moaning and starting to sweat, she wiggled and bounced and tried desperately to relax her butt. Mike, watching bemusedly, walked up in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked at him in panic.

Shoving her down roughly, her ass smacked into the stool hard with a thud!
“UNGH!!! AAIIIII!!!!”
Chelsea wailed as the tight ring of her butt snapped around the more narrow tapered end. Her ass had never felt so full, it was like she had a balloon up there! She sniffled once and looked at him with wet eyes, her voice cracking.

“God it hurts sir! I can't do this!”
“You are fine. Next time you will do it entirely yourself. Understand?”
“I....yes sir, I understand.”
“Finish getting dressed.”

Walking like she had something too big up her backside, which she did, she shuffled over and picked up the thin crotch strap. She fit the waist strap around her hips, then ran the center strap down between her legs, through the tiny eyelet on the butt plug, and back up to her waist again. She went and stood in front of Mike, as required. She couldn't be trusted to tighten it properly.

He pulled her waist strap down tight, making sure it wouldn't slide down her hips. Then he pulled the middle strap even tighter, using both hands and practically lifting her off the floor. She yelped and her thighs squirmed as it split her labia, laying directly over her little clit hood.

“10 miles. Get started.”

---------------------------

*smack *smack *smack *smack
Chelsea gasped for air over and over as her body glistened wetly, the sound of her flopping titbags filling the room. She was on mile 9, with Mike sitting on the couch watching TV as she ran.

“Officer Mike....*gasp...sir...sir! *gasp” she looked like she wasn't going to last much longer. Maybe she needs to do this more often, he thought.

“Hmmm?” he raised an eyebrow and looked at her.
“Can I slow down sir? Please?” she huffed, her face pale. She was practically running full speed, her little pink sneakers a blur. She felt lightheaded and was sure she was going to pass out any second. Her dancing titties ached deeply as well, smacking themselves over and over again onto her ribcage. What really bothered her the most though was what was going on between her pumping thighs.

Her sweaty petals and poor clit rubbed and chafed incessantly against the wetly gleaming black strap, it felt like it was trying to saw her in half. The massive plug up her stuffed butt gave her horrible cramps, and her running gait actually looked a little funny, like her legs weren't quite working properly.

“You can slow down, but instead of running ten miles you will have to jog to 15. With your weights.”
“T-thank you sir” her hand shot to the controls, and she quickly paused the treadmill, her lips parting as she breathed heavily. Her heart dropped. This may have been a worse idea, she berated herself for not sucking it up.

God her ass ached. Pushing the thought aside, she quickly went to her little box and took out the nipple clamps with the 1 pound lead balls. Gritting her teeth, she opened the jaws and quickly snapped it onto her left breast.

“*gasp nnnngh!” Moving quickly to get it over with, and avoid Mike's ire, she opened up the second clamp and quickly released it onto her other nipple.

“nnnngh!!!!” Tendrils of shooting pain lanced their way through her poor boobs into her brain, the throbbing concentrated on her nearly exploding tit tips. Getting back on the treadmill, she started a brisk jog. She was on mile 9, and needed to get to mile 15 now.

Immediately she regretted her complaint. It was a little easier for her to breathe now but the heavy lead balls tugged mercilessly on her nipples.

“ah! ah! ohh! ah!” she made little noises with every step, the heavy flopping resuming but with a different trajectory. Whereas before her funbags danced wildly on her chest, they were now guided by her stretched taut nipples, the heavy lead balls launching upwards before crashing down again. They yanked her breasts straight down and pulled viciously on the very roots of her tits, while the undersides crashed into her chestwall. It was awful... To think she used to wear sports bras.

Mike changed the channel and glances at her, keeping tabs on her struggle. He did get hard watching her, he'd have to fuck the slutty little tart later for sure.

As time wore on, and the smell of the cooking pot roast filled the room, Chelsea's tits ached more and more. She wasn't sure she would even be able to touch them the rest of the day without serious discomfort. A few times she stumbled and almost lost her footing, and the lead balls punished her extra hard in response, making her clench her stretched ass on the big plug while she moaned.

At mile 14 she began to see hope. Wanting to get it over with, she turned the speed up again and started running, the extra force converting to pain in her tits and ass. Mike looked at her and smiled. He knew she was just trying to shorten her suffering, but he was still impressed with her fortitude.

Chelsea wanted to cry as she neared mile 15. She had to keep running, she hated this whole damn thing and she had to get it over with! She grit her teeth and her boobs throbbed angrily, the cramps in her bowels rising to new levels. When that god damn little number finally changed to 15, she nearly shouted in relief. She shut the treadmill off.

Gasping and wheezing, she stepped off the machine and bent over, hands on her knees. Her sweaty body glistened under the lights, moisture dripping from her nose and clamped nipples.

“Well done slut. Take your gear off and do your cool down stretches. Don't forget to hydrate.”
“yes sir, I will.” Moaning, Chelsea unclamps her nipples, the blood rushing back into her abused girly bits. Her tits had a deep soreness to them, but if she left them alone she knew they'd recover. They'd certainly been through worse.

“Ahh! Ahhhh!”
She had to pull her crotch strap slightly tighter to release the clasp, and it rubbed viciously against her clit before popping free. She soothingly rubbed her labia for a moment, before arching her back and grasping the base of the fat butt plug. Pushing with her ass and pulling with both hands, her asshole once again starts to widen over the flared head.

“Unngh! Ahh UGHHH!” She moans loudly as she pulls, the tight hole widening, but loses her grip and the plug sinks back inside her. Frustrated, she tries again, and by wiggling it from side to side manages to pop the monster out. She felt instant relief and also strangely empty, her asshole opening and closing slightly as it winked. She quickly takes the plug to the kitchen and washes it clean, and sets all her gear back in her box.

She's dying of thirst, and resignedly picks up her water bottle. Ryan had made a deal with a sperm bank in the city, and would acquire the old, expired sperm that was going to be thrown away. Chelsea was forced to mix half water half thawed cum together, and that was her drink when she was working out. It took five decades for frozen sperm to expire, so she was actually regularly guzzling down 50 year old man cream.

She shakes the bottle to keep it mixed, then unscrews the cap, eyeing the disgusting looking watery mixture. The smell of cum wafts up into her nostrils, and she grimaces. Putting the edge to her lips, she drinks a few sips, getting used to the taste, slightly off compared to fresh cum. She's so thirsty and knows this is her only option, so she drinks deeply, swallowing a good 6 times before putting the cap back on. She feels sick but she is getting better at pushing that feeling aside. Wiping her mouth, she licks her fingers clean, as required, while Mike watches.

She drops to the floor and goes through her stretch routine, stretching out her aching hamstrings, thighs, calves. Mike watches avidly, enjoying the show, especially when she touches her toes and does the splits. She rolls her neck and pulls back on her fingers, then stands up and looks at Mike.

“I'm all done sir.”
“So you are. Bring me your bag of vegetables.”
“S-sir?”
“It's important to have good nutrition, not just work out.”
“...o-okay.”

She brings him a plastic bag from the fridge, full of cold fresh vegetables. Pushing her down onto the coffee table in front of the couch he is sitting on, he spreads her legs and looks directly at her pouting pussy. It's slightly red from the chafing crotch strap earlier.

She blushes, feeling his gaze as he stares at her exposed girlhood.

*Slap! *Slap! He slaps her thighs roughly, making her spread even wider.

He leans close and blows on her sex lips, making her shiver. *SLAP! “ungh!” He spanks her hard right on her cunt, the girl jumping but somehow keeping her legs opened. He loved the sounds she makes.

*SLAP! “ungh” SLAP! “UGH!” SLAP! “UGH please Sir!”

Smiling, he rummages through the bag of vegetables. He did enjoy shopping in the produce section these days. "I know your pussy is always hungry, little fuckslut. Remember the days when you used to stuff it with carrots?"
"I didn't stuff it..." she blushed, recalling how she told him she had taken her own virginity with the little orange vegetable. "It was j-just one..." She fidgeted her thighs nervously, not liking where this was going. She wished he would stop staring between her legs.
"Just one carrot? Those dark, nutrient deficient days are behind you sweetheart. I'll make sure that tight little twat is plenty full."

He pulled out a weird looking, skinny yellow squash. A slightly bulbous base thinned out to a skinny neck, that turned abruptly at the last inch 45 degrees. The ugly little thing was covered in rough looking bumps.

He leaned down and licked her slit bottom to top, and Chelsea shuddered. Poking his tongue in the entrance, he lapped gently and sucked on her clit. The whole point was to get her lubricated, not to please her, so he stopped when he felt her shift her hips.

Slap! "Unh!" he spanked her pussy again, killing her arousal. "Time for your snack, whore."

He lined up the funny looking squash and touched the bulb to her entrance. Pressing insistently, he twisted the squash back and forth, worming the widest part between her glistening sex lips.

"uh!" While not terribly wide, the bulb did give her snug little entrance a small, somewhat achey stretch. Despite everything that got shoved up inside her these days, she was still tight. If she had been worked up to it longer, maybe fingered a bit, it probably wouldn't have bothered her as much.

Pushing a little harder, the widest part sank past her entrance and into her an inch.

"Well that was easy" admonished Mike. "You really are a loose whore, aren't you?"
"No...it's just...ungh!" He pushed the vegetable in hard, shoving all 5 inches into her. The bulb on the end stretched her as it traveled down the length of her tube, the rough bumps giving her weird sensations.
"It's just that you're a fucktoy. Is that right?"
"...yes. I'm a fucktoy." A depressed look crossed her face, and Mike started pumping the squash in and out slowly.

Twisting it, he rotated his wrist and changed the angle, pushing the bulb downward towards her ass within her cunt while her toes curled. He worked her with deep, penetrating strokes.

“So, whose fucktoy are you?” he questioned her, curious how she'd respond.
“Y-yours Sir...and Officer Ryan's” was that a real question? Her pussy squeezed and her neck flushed, God that was feeling good.
“Well yes that's true, but it's a little more...Soviet than that.” He chuckled, still plumbing her depths with the squash. “It's more like you're 'Our Fucktoy.' Remember your lessons at the warehouse?”
“yes” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek, breathing heavily.

Picking up speed, he gets a little more vigorous with her. "unh...unh...unh" her ravished sex moistened more, her juices thoroughly coating the squash. The bumps felt so good, and as her pussy opened up it began to ache less. Her moans took on a distinctly more wanton tone, and he pushes it in completely, letting the angled end nestle snugly against her clit. She lustfully humped twice against his hand, embarrassed at her involuntary reaction, but so close.

That was enough of that. Time to get serious.

He wetly pulled the ugly thing from her as Chelsea raised her head to see what he was doing now.

"Yes, I can tell you like the squash, but that sloppy cunt needs to swallow more than that. Would you prefer 3 cucumbers or 4?"
Her eyes bulged in their sockets. Was he serious?
"I....I..."
"Best choose quickly whore, or I might choose for you."
"Th-three" she answered dejectedly. "B-but I don't think I can-"

Slap! He spanks her pussy again and her breath hitches, shutting her up and killing any previous pleasure. Why'd he always have to do that?! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! He smacks 3 more times into the frustrated pussy, denying her the cum. She writhed miserably.

He pulls three cucumbers from the bag, each long, girthy, and appropriately phallic shaped. Stopping and thinking for a moment, he pulls the fourth out as well.

"In case you piss me off." She blanched a little whiter, but said nothing.

Since she was already nice and wet, he didn't need to waste any time getting started. Abruptly and without warning, he guides the first thick cucumber to her sex lips and shoves the entire length in all at once!

"Ngh! Owww" she had already started to tighten up a little again and the abrupt insertion caught her off guard. Her thighs snapped shut around his hand and her cunt squeezed tightly, spasming on the long vegetable, the end rubbing up against her womb.

"Open your legs, you damn whore! Now!" He still had his hand around the cucumber, and started twisting it roughly as he yelled at her, grinding the end into her cervix.
"I'm s-sorry sir!" she shakily opens her legs, her pussy lewdly squelching as he punished her tender love nook.

He fucks her with it for about a minute, the savage strokes making her buck, then shoves it back in all the way. Noticing how she was fucking back a little, he viciously pinches her clit with his nails and yanks on it hard over and over, determined to wipe out her unwanted arousal. Her whimpers made him hard.

Pushing two fingers in alongside the end of the cucumber, he pushes it hard to the left, and lines up the second cucumber with the little too-small gap that appeared.

"I don't think-Ah! Ungh!" He jams it forward roughly, jabbing her with the fat end. Her slick labia stretch thinly, the right lip slipping tightly over the new attacker. Holding the first cucumber in with his left hand, he pushes on the new one with his right, leaning into it with his body weight, pushing, twisting.

"Ungh! Godddd! Ngh!!" Chelsea's cunt widened painfully, the slow, inexorable insertion making her fist fly up to her mouth. She bit her finger hard, nearly drawing blood. Her pussy juiced nicely in an anguished attempt to cope, but she was just too damn tight. Her aching tube leaked copiously around the two vegetables, her shiny clear fluids running down over her lower asscheeks. Giving a final push, leaning in hard, the second cucumber was fully seated.

"You're looking pretty full, cunt. Only one more to go!"
"No! Please! It - ungh! god - it hurts so much! I can't take another!! I can't!" she whined and complained, shifting her thighs and trying to ignore the radiating throbbing coming from her violated pussy. Hot tears flowed down her face; she really was afraid she would tear open if he tried to fit another.

"Don't be stupid. Of course you can; women deliver babies do they not?" he laughed at her. "We aren't quite to baby levels yet but we'll get pretty close!"

He leaned in and looked at the stuffed cunt, the two fat cucumbers side by side. "See, right here. A third would fit nicely right on top, between these two. Like a little pyramid."
"No, it won't fit! Don't do it! Please!"

Our Fucktoy can be so damn whiney.

Ignoring her begging, he grabbed the third cucumber. Holding it up to her mouth, he made her suck on it. This was going to be a tight fit. Pulling the newly glistening cucumber from her mouth, he knelt down between her legs again.

He pushed the tip just below her clit, right above the other two nestled vegetables. She groaned in anticipation, running her fingers through her hair. She had to listen to him, for her brother's sake, but... she hated him so much...and she hated herself too. She was a stupid whore.

He leaned in hard, pushing it with both hands, but that thick cucumber didn't budge. He pulled on the left labia, wiggled the cucumber in a bit, then pulled on the right, trying to get it started. Pushing at a downward angle, he shoved again, and smiled as a half inch sank into her, her breath hitching loudly.

"NGh! OWww oww!" He shoved again, twisting and pushing, and she groaned in pain as it slowly began its dreadful ascent up her full to bursting birthing tube.

"OWW! GOD STOP!" Three inches. Four inches. Five. Her legs shook as more and more of the rigid vegetable squeezed in alongside its brothers. It moved slowly as it bored into her, but it couldn't be stopped, Mike leaning in heavily with both his hands, never giving her a reprieve, up and up and up. And then, just when she thought she would lose her mind, it happened. It bottomed out. The bitch had taken 3 large cucumbers, her cunt completely stuffed full, tormented marvelously as it ached and throbbed, screaming at her. Her ass cheeks and thighs glistened at him, completely soaked with her desperate juices.

Gasping and hyperventilating, she covered her face with both her hands, her body writhing, unable to stay still. Seeing the perfect opportunity for the finishing touch, he quickly opens a package of baby carrots, lining up one of the little tapered orange veggies with her urethra. Chelsea was so distracted she didn't notice, not even looking at him with her hands on her face.

"It's your favorite, slut. Carrots!"

Smiling gleefully, he nudges the pointy end in and smacks the little carrot with his palm in one smooth motion, shoving it up her peehole. It was only 2 inches long, but that was plenty long for Chelsea. Burning pain radiated from her tiny tube, another addition to the straining pain coming from between her thighs. Her little hole was stretched wider than it should ever be, stuffed full somewhere that should never be stuffed...

“NNNNAAIAIII!!!” She squeals loudly, banging her head on the table and struggling anew. He grasps the little end sticking out and gently twists it back and forth. The tendons in her wet thighs stood out like cords as her legs snap shut on his hand, then pop open again in fear, then shut. No longer clutching her face, her right hand shoots down between her closed legs and clasps his wrist, too afraid to push it away but gripping him tightly.

“It's just one carrot” he laughs at her, mocking her. “How bad could it be?” It wasn't just the carrot, though that was ghastly enough. It was all of it adding together, her whole cunt felt shattered, ripped apart.

Knowing she shouldn't but unable to help herself, her legs squeeze together even more tightly. She involuntarily kept clenching her cunt in agony, which caused even more unwelcome stress to the overextended muscles. Crying openly, her nails dug into his wrist in a death grip, not realizing she was drawing a small amount of blood.

"Bitch, what do you think you're doing?"
"UNNNGH it hurts! Ohhhhhh" she was so focused on all the stretching pain she didn't process his words.
"Cunt. CUNT!" He reached up and slapped her face hard, snapping her face to the left. Dazed, she looked at him, teary eyed and still groaning.

"Let. My. Fucking. Hand. Go."
She looked stricken, realizing she fucked up. Her tensed fingers quickly release him, her shaking thighs slightly parting.
"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'm s-so sorry! It just h-hurts so much and I didn't...” she shuts up, white faced, fully expecting him to do something horrid to her, to somehow put her into an even deeper hell. She stared at him with wide eyes, moaning and twitching in her chock-full distress.

Mike considers her for a minute, her gorgeously stuffed pussy, the terror in her eyes. He knows it was an accident. “You know what. You're a good fuckdoll.” He pats her on her sweaty head.

The pain was clearly making her hallucinate now. She got even more frightened when he smiled at her.

“I...Sir I r-really am s-so so sorry please don't-”

“Really. You're learning to accept what you are. And you are taking all your veggies so well, even though you hate them. It's put me in a good mood.” Standing up, he went and got himself a beer, then sat in his favorite chair and flicked on the TV again. She didn't move an inch.

“I want you to squeeze down as hard as you can. Try your best to make those vegetables burst. Do that for 5 minutes or so, then you can take them out and check on the pot roast.” He could be nice sometimes.

Her agonized voice tentatively answered him. “...T-thank you s-so much Sir!”