Nathan Silvers - Widow in bondage

Karen wasn't sure she existed anymore. Someone had just torn her arm from its socket, and Antonella's wondrous mouth must have just grown two cocks because she was feeding a double dose of juicy, sticky cum down her throat. Karen choked and coughed, but Antonella knew that she really wanted it all and kept their mouths locked firmly together. She wasn't going to let Karen lose one drop of the lip-smacking good jism, and Karen burned with pride that he lady would take such good care of her.

And more than that. Antonella was pulling it, twisting it, turning it until it could go farther into her pussy. And she was helping her fuck her fist in a bit. She must have known that however much I hurt, however much it felt as though her cunt was being perforated, that she wanted it harder, wanted it meaner, wanted it to hurt just a little bit worse.

Antonella fucked Karen's arm murderously into her blonde cunt, watching the arm turn silver and red as she plunged it more savagely inside the girl with every thrust. She sucked Karen's tongue inside her mouth so the girl could clean away the last of the cum she'd held there, and she spat into the girl's open mouth to give her any of the jism that might have slithered farther down her throat. She wrapped her long, lush legs around one of Karen's longer, slimmer ones and rubbed her cunt against the widow slave's svelte, satiny thigh. She raked the vicious fingernails of one hand over Karen's bouncy, heaving tits and flat, silky stomach. She came over and over and over again. She wanted to torture this stuck-up blonde cunt forever.

"You piggish, sluttish cunt!" Antonella screamed right into Karen's ear as she finally pulled her mouth away. She untwisted herself from the blonde's body and let go of her arm and rolled away from her. She let her rage flow through her now, wanting to work herself into the state of excitement she'd need to use her whip just right.

Karen was a fucking beauty. Even now, stained with every kind of sex-juice and soaked with piss, with her body bruised and scratched and her hair hanging limp and matted, she was ravishing. Her tits, scratched and dirtied and reddened, were firm as big rubber balls. Her quivering, flat tummy was covered by the sweetest down, and her ass-cheeks were perfectly round and firm and muscled. And her cunt, even after Mark had ravaged it with his horse cock, even while Karen ground half her arm inside it, was sweet and hot. Karen might be a slut and a pig and a whore, but she was also a beauty.

"You pig!" Antonella shrieked, uncoiling her killer whip and admiring Karen's rutting, sexy body. She hoped she got the chance to do all sorts of nasty things to it. "I've hated you for years, pig. And now you're not oinking. You're not even fucking oinking!"

Karen felt a chill of panic go through her along with a burst of shame at having failed to do what her lady asked. She wanted to explain that it was impossible to oink when her mouth was full of cum, but she knew that it was a poor excuse. She quivered in fear of her just punishment. And she kept plugging her forearm into her pussy, cumming without end.

"Bitch pig!" Antonella screamed. She straddled Karen's stained, panting face and flailed the whip against the helpless woman's quivering thighs. "Oink, you rotten slut. Oink and beg me to whip your ass!"

"Mistress…" Karen pleaded, but then her voice was cut off as Antonella let loose a flood of piss into her face.

Antonella whipped Karen brutally as she pissed into her face. She let the metal tips of the whip scour the long, lean, thoroughbred legs of the deranged blonde, then played them more lightly across her trembling stomach and jouncing tits. She was frustrated in her attempts to give Karen's cunt a good whipping because of the way the widow's fist was spearing into her pussy, so she had to content herself with ripping the golden hair from the straining bitch's sensitive pussy-mound. Soon Karen's helplessly thrashing body was blotched with the angry red wounds the whip inflicted.

Karen cried in pain and lust, wondering what terrible thing she'd done to make her deserve what was happening. Her body blazed with pain and her cunt felt like one great festering wound, but she was still cumming madly and she couldn't force herself to pull her fist, her own fist, from her body.

She drank down Antonella's piss as if it were the most priceless champagne in the world. She gargled with it and cupped it in her tongue and wallowed in it. She wished she were dead.

And even after the pissing stopped, Antonella kept beating her, and she kept driving her hand inside her demolished, spasming cunt. The men laughed and Karen called her names, and the first time the cruel whip bit into the skin of her pretty face, Karen's cunt clasped so tightly around her hand that she could no longer move it.

Pussy-juice squirted out around the plug of her wrist and her hips shot above the floor as her fist pounded remorselessly on. And she didn't even hear the plant's dozens of workers begin to gather outside.

Karen didn't resist or complain as Antonella dragged her across the room by her leash and dumped her in a sunken tub. She felt her battered, overstrained muscles easing with the soothing influence of the hot water. Antonella dumped soap over her and made her wash herself. By the time she stepped from the tub she felt almost like a human being.

The bath had washed the filth and slime from her body, but nothing could take away the things she'd experienced during the last few hours, the things she'd found out about herself. She was a rutting, wanton animal, and it hadn't taken that much of an effort on the part of her captors to bring out the slut that dwelled inside her. She had cum more often and more powerfully than any of the people abusing her. She was nothing more than a dirty whore.

She wondered at the idea that she'd thought she could run her husband's company. That kind of thing seemed a million miles away from her now. Mark could do those kind of things, and Antonella. She was a fuck, a dumping ground for jism and pussy-cream and piss. The office they'd given her was nothing more than her own private whore house.

"We're going to dress you up so pretty," Antonella cooed mockingly in Karen's ear as she led her out of the tub and made her stand up straight at the edge of the pool. "We're going to dress you up like a pretty little whore so all the men will want to fuck you. Won't you like that?"

Karen wasn't sure what Antonella was talking about. She tried to stand very still, though, as the sexy brunette wrapped a thin leather band tightly around her tits and lifted her feet one at a time to pull lacy black panties up over her hips. She knew that if her lady wanted her to move, she'd say so. Antonella pulled the leather top so tightly around the blonde's slender frame that Karen groaned with pain and the silky white flesh of her tits squeezed out at the top and bottom of the strap. And the panties were little more than a V-shaped strip of cloth, barely covering the blonde mound of her cunt and cutting between the firm cheeks of her ass as soon as Antonella pulled them into place.

After that, the cruel brunette slipped high heels on Karen's feet and made up her face. The high heels hurt Karen's feet but she didn't dare complain. And Antonella brushed Karen's cheeks with dark rouge and colored her eyelids purple and painted her lips with thick red lipstick. Karen knew that Antonella was dressing her up like a whore, but she didn't protest. She was a whore, wasn't she?

"This way, piggie," Antonella said with a laugh, leading Karen by her leash to a device that looked like the outline of a seesaw. She made Karen lean down over it and hooked her feet in tight stirrups at the bottom. "Can you oink for me, piggie? Just a little oink, please?"