Walter Collins - Tijuana slut

Except for a set of chains hanging from the ceiling, it was a nice hotel-style bedroom. There was a heavy frosted window behind the curtains on one side. I limped nervously across the room.

Millions of questions flashed through my mind. I hoped there would be a fire escape. If there wasn't, then I'd have to use bedsheets or something. What if it wouldn't open? What if I broke the glass?

The only way I'd find out was to move the heavy bolt handle up and go from there. I reached out and grasped it. My hands were weak. They hurt from the strain and tension. I put a lot of weight into it. They cried out in protest before the latch gave.

I heard a squeaking and felt it grind free. I pushed the window open about a foot. All hell broke loose. The room echoed with a shrill alarm. I could hear footsteps racing down the hall.

It was a thirty-foot drop. There wasn't any balcony or fire escape. I tried to force the window open farther. I'd rather die than face any more torture.

The door to the room was thrown open. I managed to get the window open all the way. I tried to clamber out. Strong, brutal hands grabbed me before I could leap.

All hope was drained from me. I was quickly removed from the room and taken back to a special cell. One guy held me while the other used his fists.

The blows started low. The first one caught me just above the pubic hair. They pulverized me. The man worked his way leisurely up my stomach. The air was hammered out. My stomach felt like it had been tenderized with a sledgehammer. The man didn't stop until I was dangling in the other's arms, only semiconscious.

The men dumped me against a post in the center of the room. They put iron cuffs on my wrists and fastened them to a ring above my head. A lead pipe with a ring on each end was placed between my shoulders and the back of my neck. It was tied loosely in place by cords.

"We'll teach you to try and run out on us!" one of the men chuckled.

They tied a piece of rope around each knee and drew them up to the rings on the ends of the pipe. My pussy was completely exposed and resting on the cold floor. The chain holding my arms was tightened until I was dangling six inches off the floor.

A man grinned viciously. He pulled a Coke bottle out of his jacket and held it against my twat. I was lowered on it. I felt the big bottle going deeper and deeper. It was like being fucked by the donkey. My cunt-flaps and clit were driven inside as the delicate flesh stretched beyond endurance.

The mouth of the bottle began to press painfully against the back of my twat. I was racked with cramps. My snatch sank lower and lower, until almost the whole bottle was inside. I was resting all of my weight on it. The men gave me just enough slack to sink the rest of the way to the floor. Laughing at me, they left.

The muscles of my legs cramped. I jerked with occasional spasms. The bar behind my head pressed painfully against my neck. The weight of my legs made it hurt like hell. My cunt was full of bottle. It hurt my insides so bad it took my breath away.

I hung that way for an eternity. Every tremor, every cramp, every twitch, sent excruciating fire carousing through me. I couldn't do anything that didn't make it hurt worse. I was in too much pain

to sleep and not quite enough to pass out.

By the time I was unchained, my cunt was resting on the floor and had all of the bottle wedged inside me. It was so far in that the men had trouble getting their fingers on either of it to pull it out.

When the bottle popped free, they jerked me to my feet. I screamed and crumpled to my knees. They pulled me up again. It felt like they'd poured boiling water into my stretched snatch. My legs were like rubber. They grabbed me under each arm and dragged me down the hall to the theater.

I was brought onto a stage and my hands were cuffed behind my back. I heard the grating clank and rattle of the chain being lowered. My legs gave out and I fell to my knees. My arms were jerked painfully and my shoulders started to turn red from the strain as they hooked the cuffs to the chain.

The men spread my legs and chained my ankles to the floor. As long as I stayed absolutely still, my arms didn't hurt too bad. The minute I twisted in any direction, my knees left the floor and I nearly dislocated my arms at the shoulders.

I didn't have time to think about it. The man started driving my head up and down at a cruel speed. My tongue felt like it was being ripped out of my mouth. My throat was bruised. My teeth felt like they were about to be knocked out. My shoulders ached. The agony from that end was getting so bad I barely noticed it when the cock popped out and he went away.

The bastard started to make me swing back and forth. The pain grew in my arms until I started twitching and trembling at the point of convulsions. I almost passed out. Then he emptied his big dong in my throat. His goo squished out around the head of the big prick. It spurted into my sinuses. It dribbled from my mouth and nose. It dripped across my chin, onto his legs.

I swallowed and swallowed in an effort to clear my throat so I could breathe. He seemed to have an unlimited supply of spunk. I almost drowned in it before he was finished. I was gasping and choking when he finally let go of my tortured scalp and got up.

The audience started their bidding while I hung there, open-mouthed, with jism dripping to the floor below my face. The humiliation of having been reduced to such a base level filled me with nearly as much pain as the torture.

The two women were right in the middle of the bidding. The audience was wild. The guy taking the

bids finally arranged for them to have a round with me. I had to go with the highest bidder first. They got me when he was done. I was unchained and dragged to a special room for the start. Tonight would be twice as painful as the others.

When we were alone, the man who'd bought me for a few hours, stripped. He snatched me by the hair and dragged me to a bench. Grabbing me by what little hair I still had on my twat, he jerked me to my feet. My arms were still useless and I couldn't defend myself.

I didn't recognize the two contraptions at first. When he started to twist the handles and open them, I figured it out and really panicked.

"Nooo-please don't! Please! Don't do that to me! Please!" I babbled.

He laughed and shoved each of my tits into a wood vise of its own. Leaning against my back to keep me from pulling away, he started screwing them tight.

I felt the screw at the bottom turning. The wood pressed in. It began to mash my boobs. The pressure increased. Part of the soft, fatty glands oozed over the top. My nipples pointed out the front and dribbled in fright.

The vise squeezed them harder and harder. The pain swelled. Beads of cold sweat popped out on my forehead and I sobbed and begged for mercy. I offered to lick his asshole-inside and all. I'd do anything if he'd just stop.

When he was satisfied that I was in sufficient pain and couldn't pull free, he started on what he called a face wrap. My head was to be a spool of rough cord. The first loop fit in my mouth and jerked until it pulled my lips back almost to my ears. It held my mouth like a vicious gag. Then loop after loop was wrapped around my head. It burned and cut into my cheeks. It mashed my ears and nose. It forced my eyes shut so I couldn't see anything. It made it difficult to breathe.

Up until that time I'd at least been able to see what was planned for me. Now it was even worse. The suspense really got to me. I was being held up by shaky legs and the hideous vises biting into my boobs. I was having a hard time hearing. My rasping breath echoed inside my head. All I could do was make funny animal whimpers.

"If you fight, slut, you'll tear your tits off," the man said loud enough for it to get past the ropes and to my burning ears.