Walter Collins: Tijuana slut

I sensed the cock in my snatch starting to swell.

I felt it begin to throb. Then he was bucking. His prick spurted its gooey load of slime into my cunt.

I felt his prick slip free and knew he was finished.

Once the weight was off my back the other dick became almost bearable.

We shifted as the truck started up a steep hill. My knees burned on the truck bed and started to bleed. A hand slapped my ass and I jerked in surprise and pain. The cock fucking my face started spitting in my mouth. I felt the cum shoot into my throat. It coated the back of my mouth. I tried to get a breath and sucked it up my nose. It

coated my teeth. It backed around my tongue and dripped from my mouth. It mixed with my saliva. It tasted yeasty. It replaced the salty taste of his tool. I swallowed and struggled to keep from gagging.

The man pushed me to the side and shoved the rag back in my mouth. I almost blacked out before I managed to snuff the cum back into my throat so

I could breathe. The men were laughing as they felt my body twisting in desperation beside them.

I knew now what I was in for. Wherever it was I was going, was a place designed to torture for no reason-except the entertainment of its customers. Somehow I had to find a weak link in their chain. I had to win someone to my side. Then, if possible, I had to escape.

The numbness had worn away by the lime the truck stopped. My knees burned, my tits ached, my pussy hurt and my throat was raw. I remembered what the older Mexican had said before I passed out. The more I thought about it, the more frightened I became. Could I last till Monday? That was a long three days away. Where would they send me if I did?

The truck doors swung open and I was pulled out. I was shaking so bad I could hardly keep my balance. Sharp pain tingled through my arms and shoulders.

I was dragged down a long corridor. I had trouble walking because my panties and hose still clung to my ankles. I was thrown into a room where men stripped and pawed over me again. There was more talk about the price I would bring

when I was shipped south. It hit me like a sledgehammer. I was being sold into slavery! Or I would be, if I lasted through the weekend.

By the time the men finished, I was naked. I caught a single glimpse of myself in a hall minor as I was shoved along. My face was dirty and streaked with tears. My lipstick was smeared. My hair was a mess. Bruises marked my hips and the sides of my tits. Cum was crusted on my chin and thighs.

The men threw me into a closet-like room that stunk to high heaven. I cowered in the corner. I could hear wails and pleading voices of Mexican girls coming from the other closets.

I wasn't in the cell for more than ten minutes before the door opened and I was dragged into the hallway. There were two men. One held me while the other hit me in the stomach. They were there to prepare me for my stay.

The wind whistled from my lungs. My feet came off the ground as my knees came up in reflex. He didn't give me a chance to catch my breath. He hit me again. My eyes bugged out. My tongue flopped from my already gaping mouth. I turned beet-red. My lungs gasped for air.

The man let me get a half-breath before hitting me again. The other one dropped me in a heap, leaving me to writhe on the floor at their feet.

"Bind her!" the first one ordered.

I was in too much agony to fight it. I felt their knees crushing my shoulders. Pieces of wire were being tightened around my thumbs. They were tied

tight enough so they wouldn't come loose. But they weren't tied so tight they'd cut the circulation off.

The men twisted my arms behind me in hammer locks. A collar was placed around my forehead with rings in the front and back. My arms were jerked to their extremes and tied to the band.

They fastened a piece of thin, rough rope to the link in front. One of them knotted a metal link into the other end and pulled it between my legs. They pushed it into the center of my gash. They brought it up the crack of my ass and let it lie loosely for a second.

I was rolled onto my back. Pain shot through my arms. I thought I'd pass out. I screamed and begged for mercy. The two men didn't listen. Each man grabbed a tit. They tied wire nooses around my nipples. The nooses were pulled tight. The wire bit into my flesh so cruelly it would ruin me before it came free. The men pulled those wires over my shoulders. Checking the thin rope to be sure it was still in place, they secured the wires tightly to the ring on the loose end. My nipples stretched in taut agony.

I was dragged back into the closet. A cable was looped around each of my little fingers and hooked to one of the rings in the ceiling. I was left standing on my tiptoes. If I moved my head one way, I strained my arms and thumbs to the point of pulling them from the joints. If I moved it the other, my gash was scraped raw and it almost tore

my nipples off. I couldn't hunch down to ease the pain because I'd break my little fingers.

My body was forced to stand frozen in constant pain for hours. Once in a while my arms would go numb. It was a blessing that only lasted for a second. My feet were on fire from the strain of holding my weight. I'd shift without meaning to. The shift would jerk one of the cords. The cord would cause pain someplace else and I'd jerk my head. My head would pull my arms and my body would fill with scaring pain again.

I was at the point of sheer exhaustion when they finally came for me. I was untied and led down the hall by my cunt-hair. We made a humiliating entrance into a large room filled with men. There was a raised stage in the center. Led by my cunt-hair, I was pulled onto the stage. Many of the men in the room were American.

"Gentlemen-this is the newest attraction from across the border. She's here for one weekend only. A genuine U.S. redhead. Fresh and guaranteed to writhe and scream for your delight. Bidding for private pleasure will begin as soon as the show's over."

The men stared hungrily from the dimly lit section. I shivered. My arms, shoulders and neck ached in excruciating pain from the hours of bondage I'd already suffered. I whimpered as my arms were wrenched over my head and locked into the wrist cuffs dangling from the ends of two separate chains.

I heard a grating noise. The chains rattled and squeaked as they tightened. I felt the cold, metal cuffs bite cruelly into my wrists. I was pulled to my tiptoes and then off the floor. An iron cuff was snapped around each ankle and I was spread-eagled.

"Start the show," the man whispered hoarsely into the microphone.

"Noooo! Noooo! Please! Oh, dear God- noooo!" I shrilled in tenor as a man stepped out of the wings carrying a length of rubber hose.

He circled me. I tried to twist my head. Pain shot through the tortured muscles of my neck and shoulders. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I squirmed. My stomach turned to stone. My mouth tasted like cotton.

The man stepped into my line of sight. He was swinging the hose in short arcs. Suddenly he snapped his wrist. The hose hit the underside of my right tit with a whump. My squeal of pain bounced off the walls and echoed back to mock me. My tit jerked and danced. The flesh turned a bright red where I'd been hit.

He kept walking in circles around me. This time he struck from behind. The hose swished between my legs. My whole body strained forward as it cracked into my twat. Bruising pain seared through my groin. I screamed and pleaded for mercy.

The men in the audience stared in electrical silence. Their eyes were glazed. Their mouths were

slack, and I saw that many of them were rubbing their crotches.

My tormentor reached my side. The hose sprang out again. This time it caught both tits just below the nipples. I jerked back. It didn't do any good. My tits bounced and jiggled like jelly. They felt like someone had slammed a hot iron across them. I almost dislocated my shoulders.