Dan Webster - Forced into damnation

"Ooooohhhh," she wailed. "I'm explooodiiing." Cobb continued to suck and lick her sex, bringing her to the top of a craggy tortuous everest of orgasmic delight. A series of colored lights were flashing on and off inside her head and she felt completely detached from the realities of the world around her. She was conscious only of the powerful forces which were carrying her off on the pink cotton-candy cloud of her first orgasm. She screamed and sobbed, panted and wailed, groaned and moaned, as wave upon wave of delicious ecstasy washed over her. Every cell of her body was alive. Every fiber of her being vibrated, undulating with the speed of light and the force of an atomic explosion. She was sure that the end of the world had come and that she was about to be destroyed in the cosmic explosion of some incredible super-nova.

Then, at last, she was past the peak and Cobb's still-slavering tongue led her, slipping and sliding, down the gentle slope of anticlimax. She lay panting and moaning, a willing subject at last for his oral ministrations. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, the agonizing ecstasy began to subside. Connie felt her consciousness drifting away on a cloud of relieved frustration and slipped mercifully into a deep and undisturbable slumber.

She was totally unaware of the uses to which Edward and Cobb put her unconscious body as she slept. Some of these she wouldn't have thought possible. But, of course, she had a lot to learn.

When Connie awoke she was alone, still naked and sprawled out across the platform in the center of Johnny Walker's living room – the platform that had been the scene of her degradation and the altar on which she had been initiated into the rites of lust. Her body ached and her face was swollen and tender.

She touched her tits gingerly, wincing at the pain caused by the contact made by her probing fingers with the bruised and discolored skin. Her thighs were stiff and charley-horsed and pained her with every movement. Her cunt felt like it bad been slashed with a razor and then bathed in iodine. And her ass was torn and contused.

She groaned as she moved her body, seeking a more comfortable position on the foam rubber mattress. She knew that she had passed out, but that the night's debauchery had continued until early morning. She remembered experiencing fleeting moments of consciousness while Cobb and Edward had mauled and misused her sore and aching body. And she remembered what had happened just before she passed out.

Cobb had been lapping obscenely at her cunt. And instead of fighting and resisting him, she had begged him to go on. She remembered screaming insanely at him, her lustful desires taking complete control of her mind and body. She despised herself for her sin, and for the weakness of womanhood which had led her down the path of impurity and degradation.

She had come to Forest Hills with a mission – a noble mission! She had been determined to swing her fist at the leering face of crime and immorality. But instead, she had been swallowed up in the rising swell of lust which was fast polluting the earth and soiling everything that it touched. She had taken a long decisive step over the abyss and into the swirling maelstrom of perversion and depravity.

What would happen to her now? Perhaps Johnny Walker would have her killed. Perhaps he intended to kill her with his own hands. She remembered the instruction that he had given his henchmen when he left her in their custody the previous night. "Don't kill her," he had said. "Leave something for me."

Connie found that she wasn't frightened by the prospect of being murdered by the Black gangster. If anything, she was relieved. How could she live with what she had become? She was no more than a wanton slut now, a bitch in heat responding to the perverted stimulation of her body with the uncontrollable lust of an animal. She thought about the power of her monumental orgasm and the way that it had overrun the strength of her mind, realizing with horror that the rollicking climax that she had willingly experienced had chained her to her desire, making her a slave to the lusts of her body. Death was the only way out. She craved it! Longed for it! If Johnny Walker didn't kill her, she would just have to kill herself.

She barely looked up as the door opened and Johnny stepped into the room. After turning the policewoman over to Cobb and Edward, the night before, he had gone to his bedroom in the back of the apartment and gone straight to sleep. Now he would complete what his underlings had begun.

The Black gangster was dressed in a terrycloth sarong which wrapped around his waist and reached just past his knees. The material was tiger-striped, making him look like some African tribal chieftain. The muscles of his taut belly rippled as he walked barefoot across the room, a small brass cup in his hand.

He went to the platform and stood next to it for a moment, looking down at the naked battered body of the shapely young policewoman. Cobb had given him a full report of the previous night's activities, and Johnny could see by the bruises on her creamy-white skin that his henchmen hadn't been exaggerating. He waited as she slowly turned her head to look up at him.

"Hello, little policewoman," he said, his thick lips twisting into a contemptuous sneer. "Are you glad to see me?"

Connie turned her face away from him again, pressing her lips tightly together. She knew that be was looking at her, studying her nakedness, but she had stopped caring, her mind numb to her further degradation. Let him do what he wants with me, she thought. Soon it will alt be over.

But Johnny yanked her viciously by the hair, turning her head around so that she faced him. "I asked you a question," he said, speaking through clenched teeth. "And I expect an answer. Are you glad to see me?" He looked as though he was getting ready to slap her.

"Just thrilled," Connie said, a tear welling up in her right eye and running unimpededly down her face.

Johnny grinned. "Don't look so unhappy," he said. "From what the boys told me, I kind of think you're going to like this. Now lie flat on your back and spread your legs. And don't give me any reason to beat the shit out of you." The directness of his command reminded Connie that she was totally helpless and unqualifiedly at his mercy. She decided to comply with his orders rather than suffer another beating. She couldn't be humiliated any more than she already had been.

Connie arranged herself on her back, spreading her legs as he had directed. She stared unseeingly at the ceiling, awaiting his pleasure. Johnny fell to his knees beside the raised black platform and moved toward her, still holding the brass cup in his hand. He held it over Connie's belly and tipped it, spilling out a small quantity of warm oil. As the warm slick substance rolled over her body, Connie was certain that she detected the scent of jasmine.

Johnny moved his hand, pouring some of the oil onto her thighs. Then moving up, he let some of the scented oil drip onto her bruised breasts, watching it pool in the valley of her cleavage. He put the cup on the floor beside him and rested both hands lightly on the nude policewoman's belly. Dipping his palms into the pool of warm oil which filled her navel, Johnny began to spread it across the white skin of her taut flat belly.

Connie could feel his strong muscular hands working gently, smearing the scented oil over her in a sensuously continuous circular motion. In spite of herself, she found her pussy tingling at the contact. Johnny continued to work the warm liquid over her hips and lower belly. She could feel his fingertips stroke exploringly at her curling jungle of darkly tangled pubic hair. She felt completely detached, as though she was watching him stroke the body of another woman.