RUOK

[Pnp-pig]

Thanks,  chapter5 is hot!

[toxicsleaze]

Fantastic  twisted mind, and written  beautifully...

[Nullo-sub-N8]

Great story,, more please.

[ashcub]

Chapter 6

We're down in some kind of store room or cell. There's metal pipes all around us, the hum of a boiler close by.

I don't know where this basement is, because the two policemen frogmarched me out of that hotel with a bag over my head, drove me here in what I guess was their police car, frogmarched me in, walking down stairs and going through sets of fire doors, down to the basement of what must be a police... station? Now it's just them and me. M has disappeared, most likely counting his loot.

I don't know what's going on. I can't see what's happening in the room because my head's upside down, clamped in place by what seems to be some kind of huge vice. I can't turn my head.

I try to lift my head, and find that I can't do that either, thanks to the cable tie that bites into my neck and chokes me.

My jaws are wrenched wide open by some kind of spider gag, which is pinching my lips painfully at the corners.

My body's tightly strapped down to some kind of bench, with wide straps of some kind. My wrists are cable-tied to a metal frame down by my side, my elbows strapped down, my shoulders. My legs are open wide, pushed up so my lower legs are pointing vertically upwards, and then cable-tied tightly to an upright post. If I try to move a muscle, the plastic digs into my skin and it hurts, and the pain still sends waves of pleasure through me. If I struggle, though, I'm going to have permanent marks on me.

"I bet you think M's been treating you rough," says the older constable, pacing around me, inspecting my bondage. "But I don't think you're ready for the kind of things we like."

I feel a sudden zap of pain, a sharp, buzzing pain, in my left thigh. Something electric. I scream and try and twist away, but I'm held fast down. All that happens is all the cable ties bite into my skin and it hurts even more.

"Ah, poor diddums, didn't like that did you," he snarls in a mocking sing-song. "That was the lowest setting. Want to try a higher one?"

I'm crying, pleading for him to stop. But no proper words come out through the gag.

"Yeah, I think we should try a higher setting," I hear the voice of the other policeman.

I can hear the older policeman walking around to my arse. Then I feel cold metal press against my inner thighs, slide up towards my hole.

"Maybe I'll give him a little zap up his arse, see how he likes that," the older policeman says.

The metal tip presses into my battered hole, and slides in half an inch. I'm trying with all my strength to jerk away from it, but it's no use, I can't move an inch, I'm firmly tied down, and I'm tied to a rigid wooden bench. There's no sling to swing out of the way. I'm still gurgling and pleading and crying, still thinking there's something I can do to make him stop.

"Sing all you want," he says, "there's nobody to hear you, and nobody would give a shit anyway."

Then there's a huge flash that seems to run all through me, that same buzz-saw pain but much stronger this time, coming from the metal cock at the core of my body. I scream like a child. All my muscles tense rigid, the cable ties cut into me even harder. Confusingly, this sets off another tidal wave of tingly pleasure through my body. The meth is still doing its business.

"Mmmm. That screaming gets me rock hard," I hear the other policeman's voice coming closer. Then his fat slimy cock head is pushing its way through the opening in my spider gag, and almost immediately my nose gets pushed into his balls, and there's no air. I try to breathe around the cock head and that works for a couple of seconds, until his cock head pushes further into my throat. Now my air is really cut off.

Now I'm not a stranger to breath control. But when I've done it with M, he's always been cautious, gentle, tentative, always done it with ceremony, checking that I'm ready, and never cutting off my air for more than ten seconds or so. To be honest I kind of wanted him to go harder, do it for longer.

Careful what you wish for. This man apparently either doesn't care if I pass out, or he's too busy enjoying the feeling of my cock muscles milking his throat to even realise that I'm about to pass out. I'm full-on panicking, every muscle in my body struggling to get free, to move away, to get air. But he just keeps pushing deeper and deeper into my throat, all the way in, then halfway out, again and again, in a slow, almost lazy rhythm. I can hear his moans above me. Fuck. Yeah.

I come to some time later, I'm not sure if it's been minutes or days. There's no way to know. I'm still tied down to the bench, my head is still fixed back. I'm being fucked, I can't tell by who. There's no pain, at least, just soreness from the cable ties. I hear a door creak, a new male voice saying "ah so this is where the party is". 

Another zipper coming down, another cock head pushing at the opening of the gag.

 

 

 

Edited February 28 by ashcub

[Pnp-pig]

Fucking hot!