Date: Mon, 19 Dec 2016 14:11:57 -0500 From: Olivia Palmer <olivia.octavia.palmer@gmail.com> Subject: Alpha Annie 7 (F/F/ff, rom, bdsm, cons, fist, drunk, tit tort, pain, light blood, light scat, mast, vom) Alpha Annie 7 by Olivia Palmer (F/F/ff, rom, bdsm, cons, fist, drunk, tit tort, pain, light blood, light scat, mast, vom) --- _Please_Donate_To_Nifty_ This amazing site provides us all with incredible erotica! I've been an avid reader for many years, and I can't imagine the thought of it going away... If you care about the erotica of alternative, non-traditional, non-patriarchal sexuality, then please please please help keep Nifty going!!! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html --- This story is a work of fiction and does not purport to depict any real people, places, or situations. It is entirely fantasy and should be treated as such. This story describes explicit sexual acts between girls, teen girls, and women. If this type of content offends you or if you are not of legal age to view adult content, then do not read it. Do not repost or redistribute without prior written permission of the author. One copy may be saved for private use, insofar as that use does not extend to personal or financial gain by use of the author's work without consent. Copyright 2016 by Olivia Palmer, all rights reserved. Please email the author with comments or questions (or story suggestions!): olivia.octavia.palmer@gmail.com --- Almost like it never happened, my dream dissolved. The room returned. White. Bright. Big. I came awake to a burning inside my nose. Fucking insta-wake. Fucking insane! That was not smelling salts. Fire chased up into the front of my face, my forehead, into the top and the back of my head, finally rocketing down my spine and into all extremities – a thunderbolt of pure heat – especially in my pussy, which I instantly remembered was bare, swollen, and very wet. My whole body jerked hard, startled. Yeah. Fuck. I was tied down. Arms, legs, waist – all were secured to the cross. I was naked. I was soaked with sweat. I was sore. I fucking hurt! Pain in my tits. The skewers. Stabbed, stinging, trickling blood – every time I breathed my tits hurt. I could feel every millimeter of those steel fuckers inside my tit-flesh. I swallowed, then retched. But fuck me if I was going to puke! Tears filled my eyes, overflowed onto my cheeks. Everything tightened up as I retched and retched. The skewers might as well have been ripping me open. I could feel the blood running even more down my tits, my torso. Hot. Itchy. The gag. My panties wrapped around three bitches' shit. It was still there. My mouth was still pried open hard. My own bungee cord was holding the panties in place, the piss- and pussy- soaked cotton tasting faintly of cigarettes now, from my bitch's own mouth, my bitch's own piss. And of course there was the slowly melting shit. Poop syrup. Drooling out of the gag-grinning corners of my trembling stupid maw. Sliding down the back of my throat. I could barely see through my tear-clogged, stinging eyes. I blinked and blinked. I snorted hard through my nose. Again and again. Snot went down my throat. So yeah. Great! More retching. More fucking pain. Fuck. This. Fucking. Shit. Blew the snot out. Blew and blew and blew. Blinking tears. Blowing snot. I was a fucking nasty mess. And I was fully fucking awake. Flying fast past awake, in fact. I felt everything all at once. I felt amazing. I felt awful. It was so fucking weird. Siobhan was stepping away from me and lowering her hand from beneath my nose. A vial. She screwed the cap back on and tossed it to Sal, who shoved it in a tight pocket of her jeans. Siobhan went behind the low black couch, knelt, and shrank into the background. Like a little statue, The Sprite, servile, still. It was clear Tina wanted her to rest a bit. For whatever was coming. I had no doubt there was definitely going to be more. "Don't like her like this," my redneck bitch muttered. "Not my Annie." I jerked in my bonds, couldn't help it. Hers? I was fucking hers? What the fuck?! They both ignored my sudden movement. I couldn't have protested anyway, with my mouth stuffed like it was. "But, darling, didn't you have a wonderful orgasm earlier tonight, watching her take that huge slap in the face?" Tina traced a fingernail gently around and around my bitch's fat nipples, first one and then the other. The girl shivered and I could see her delectable nips hardening even more. She was smoking again. Sitting. Not kneeling. Sitting on that low black couch. Right beside our mistress. She took a long drag on her cigarette and thought about Mags attacking me. About getting off on it. She shrugged. "Yeah, that was fuckin' hot," my bitch admitted. "But I kinda get off on watchin' just 'bout anybody getting their ass beat." She shrugged again, face tilted down, exhaling a thick gray cloud that spread over her own lap. "Makes me horny, seein' shit like that. UFC, MMA shit, my brothers goin' at it when they're pissed about dumb shit, Momma drunk and beatin' Daddy's ass, Annie bustin' up my friends like she did. It's hot." More shrugs. "Don't know why." Tina dipped a finger down between Kendra's plump, pink cuntlips, and raised the slimy digit to the girl's mouth. Redneck bitch turned her face away for a moment, blew more smoke, then turned back, opened up, and took the older woman's long, tanned finger all the way to the last knuckle. Sucking. Sucking soft. Then hard. Tina pushed her finger deeper. My bitch gagged a little but didn't flinch. Tears sprang, flowed. Her cheeks were so pink and perfect, wet, shining. Finally Tina pulled her finger out. My bitch coughed for a while. Didn't wipe her eyes. Smoked some more. Tina got up and slowly began circling the couch. Fingers trailing lightly across my bitch's creamy-pink shoulders, through her soft sweet curls, across her lips, wet with tears, dirty with smoke. "And when Annie beats you? When she slaps you and kicks you, spits on you, bites you... does that make you hot, too?" Redneck bitch damn well knew it turned her on! She was the one who'd kept coming back for more. I strained to make sure I could see it plain as day, and I could. Tina could, too. My bitch was nodding easily, shrugging, smoking, nodding. "That's why you agreed to come out with her tonight, not knowing where you were going, leaving all your clothes behind?" She looked back down at her lap, shrugged again. "Yeah. Figured she'd do somethin' crazy to me. 'Bout pissed myself just thinkin' 'bout it. She ain't never took me nowhere – never come to get me, you know? Like I was special." Tina came over to me, stared a long time into my eyes. Her fingertips ran lightly, agonizingly, over my tits. She flicked each skewer, exactly once, and smiled as I grunted and squirmed. I could feel even more droplets of blood running over my skin, dripping onto my trembling belly, running down into my pubic hair. I wondered what it must look like, my blonde pussy hairs getting more and more stained with those thin streams of red. I wondered what it must taste like, to clamp my mouth over a bloody wet cunt like that. And suck. I groaned again and closed my eyes. Turned away from Tina's look. Pulled hard on my wrists and ankles. Like an idiot. All they did was tighten. Just like I knew they would. Tina clucked her tongue. Fucking winked at me. Then she turned and left me there again. Her heels clicked away, back toward my bitch, and I once more found myself admiring her thong-split perfect ass. I was such a fucking hopeless dyke slut. Even in a shitload of trouble like that, I still thought about eating that bitch's asshole, shoving her down and getting my mouth on her, getting my fingers in her, my hand, and making her come and cry and come again. But hey, fucking guess what? I wasn't broken after all. Just playing that game, wasn't I? Told you so. I wanted to wink back. To let her know. Yeah. Fuck you. I'm yours all right. For now. Paying my dues. Go ahead and have your fun. Mistress. Yes you are. No doubt. You're higher. Harder. Stronger. Have your way with me. With my bitch. For now. For fucking now. But watch out. I play to win. "You are special, Kendra Lee," Tina purred, leaning down to gently cup my bitch's chin, raise her face. And that was it. Poof! All my confidence, fueled by whatever shit I'd snorted from that vial, seemed to fizzled and die right then and there. Kendra Lee. Kendra. That was my bitch's name. Hearing it somehow hurt. My chest throbbed. My throat caught a strange lump, something rising that wasn't bile, wasn't anything I could name. It was some wild kind of bubble – like a new emotion, something raw and weird. Kendra. I'd never said it out loud before. And now there was Tina. Saying it. Claiming it. Claiming her. Tina bent down over my bitch. Her face to my bitch's face. Their mouths met in a long, slow, deep kiss – tongues, drool, and deep breaths through the nose. Passionate. Hard. Strong. I watched every little bit. I wanted that kiss. I strained to see it all. I seeped and I stewed down low. Heat rose in me even more. The fire still making me float on waves of horny radiant throbbing sweetness, from my clit outward to everywhere else, it burned with even more urgency. My gut twisted, floated, flipped upside down. A weird panic filled me to overflowing, and I began to shiver. Then it started. My pussy. My fucking needy cunt, driving me again. I humped the air. Damn, but I couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. And maybe, really, I didn't want to. I stood there, feet spread wide apart, strapped to that fucking goddamn black leather X, and I pumped and rotated my ass, clenched and unclenched my cunt, dropped and rose and undulated my hips without any control, with only a need for fucking, for filling, for coming. I moaned like a bitch. Fuck. I did. And did and did and did. I watched them kiss and fucked nothing. But oh I tried. And so my strength returned, just as quickly as it had fled. I was fucking in need of a fuck. I was fucking pissed. Once again. My natural state, I guess. At least in those days. That was MY bitch. Kendra Fucking Lee. Get the fuck away from her adorable face! And was that really her middle name? How did Tina fucking know it? I barely even knew the bitch as "Kendra". Kendra was a person, not a bitch. What was with this name shit anyway? You don't name things you're just going to throw away. Tina was fucking with my head. Somehow. Bringing my bitch's name into it. Who fucking cared? But I didn't like that name in her mouth. I hated her saying it. I didn't want to hear any voice but mine naming my bitch. That was my right. Mine. After what felt like ten billion years they broke the kiss. My redneck bitch was flushed again and panting, rubbing slowly but deeply at her slit as she returned to her cigarette. Tina signaled to Sal, who wandered away to the bar at the far end of the room, returning with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon for Kendra, another half-glass of dark red wine for our mistress, who immediately sipped. Swished. Guess that shit-pissy cocktail was gone and done. I'd been out for that part, missed its final moments. I wondered what happened to that slowly dissolving ball of female feces, packed so tightly by Siobhan, slid so carefully into that glass of my bitch's piss, topped off with vodka, slurped up happily by our mistress. Did she tip it down herself? Did she make Siobhan beg for it? I could see the Sprite on her knees behind the couch, her arms folded meekly behind her back, her eyes on her mother's perfect Italian heels. She waited for orders. She kept her mouth closed. Only her tongue, moving over her teeth and gums behind her gorgeous sealed lips, gave any clue. Maybe she'd really eaten it. Chewed and chewed and swallowed it down. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to know. Tina kept slowly sip-swishing while Kendra more or less chugged her brew in under a half a minute. Then she belched. Burped. Hurped. Belched again. My cute little skank. Fuck. Me. She was adorable. "Thanks," she nodded, holding up the empty can. Sal took it and wandered off again, brought her back two more. "Have as much as you'd like," Tina offered, smiling and finishing her glass. "You deserve it." Plus, I was sure, she was going to piss again like a horny fucking horse in a little while. Couldn't help but wonder if that was meant for my bitch or for Tina or for me. I felt my own heavy rectum twitch a little at the thought. Donna's amazing cheeseburger. So ripe and ready. I still had to go, too. Badly – front and back – and it wasn't going to be short and sweet either. Tina returned to conducting her little interview, circling around Kendra with a fresh glass of wine, her free hand playing lightly with my redneck bitch's soft brown curls as she spoke. "So, Kendra," she went on, "did you just run out? Did you just sneak away to meet Annie at the end of your road?" That was weird. How did she know that? End of the road? And how did she know about my bitch being naked, for that matter? What the fuck? If Kendra was worried about that too, she didn't show it. Her pretty little round face was busy finishing off that second beer. She set the empty can down on the floor next to her chair and cracked the third. I was pretty sure she was well on her way to the big DAF. Drunk. As. Fuck. "Nah," Kendra blorped a little as beer bubbles came back up while she talked, "Told Momma and Daddy that Jimmy was comin' back around. Finally fuckin' me again – that's what they thought. They'd been so pissed he wasn't fuckin' me no more. They was more than happy to see me go spend the night with him. So THEY thought, right? " Up until that moment, that was the most I'd ever heard her say at once. She sounded so fucking goofy, so redneck and charming. Oh fuck me! I wanted to hear her talk so much fucking more. Tina was watching me. There I was, not hard to find, right? Still fucking the fucking useless air. She grinned. Fucking bitch fucking grinned! Then her attention turned back to Kendra. She nodded and sipped her wine. "So Jimmy's your ex? He was fucking you?" "Yeah. No. I mean... he's the dumbfuck I thought could get me over, you know... Annie. Wantin' her so much," she shrugged, chugged. I was getting a little dizzy from the blood loss, but not enough to feel the kind of reeling, spinning sensation that came over me then. Wanting me? Well, I knew that. But it was the way she said it. The needy, hungry, desperate, tender way she'd wrapped her plump sweet lips around the words. Around my name. I did like my name in her mouth. I thought I'd like to hear her say it even more. I shivered from my light, hot head all the way to my slowly-numbing toes. Then she went on. "I couldn't never fuck him though. Couldn't stand it, even thinkin' 'bout it. That nasty dick of his...." Tina nodded sympathetically and kept circling my bitch. My girl. My... girlfriend? Every now and then the woman glanced over at me, making sure I was paying attention. That weird soreness began to rise in my throat again, that sweet, savage knot I'd never felt before. "I sucked him off instead," Kendra asserted, chin up, face proud, mouth twisted a little in a kind of self-mocking, self-directed disgust. She finished the third PBR. "Got goddamn fuckin' good at it. Fuckin' great at it." Sal retrieved another beer for my redneck bitch. My girlfriend. Fuck. Yeah she was. Kendra. My heart was about to pound right out of my sweating, blood-streaked chest. I'd had a girlfriend all along. Kendra cracked and sipped, clearly feeling it now. She swayed. Took long, slow blinks. "I could take him all the way down and not puke, after 'nuff timessh tryin' it." She raised the can and pointed a finger up at Tina, who wore a small smile and seemed to enjoy the story enormously. "But GAWD, you know? Firsh few weeksh ish like I couldn't geddit und'a control. Puked everwhere. Truck'a his cab. An' dat nashty ol' bedroom. You know? An' dat damn shpot in back'a hish daddy'shop. Ever'place I ever try sh-sh-suckin' him off, it'sh-stinkin' bad from puke after a while. Dumbfuck couldn't clean up worth sshhhit...." She swished a mouthful of beer and swallowed, eyes closed, as if reliving some past mouthwashing moment. I'd never sucked a real penis. Couldn't even imagine it. The grossness of the dickstink alone would make me hurl. I couldn't believe Kendra had done it that much. That she'd hated it but kept going back. What a dumb bitch. Why not just be my bitch? Why wasn't that good enough? Why not just be a little redneck lesbian fuckhole for me, and tell Momma and Daddy and whoever the fuck else to just fuck the fuck off? I did not, could not, understand it. I did not, could not, understand why I ached to tell her how proud of her I was, for trying like that. Even though I didn't get it. Even though this whole new path opening up in front of us scared the fuck out of me. Thrilled me. Held me in its hot tight grip and would not let go. "But ...uh... got better. Sh-stole a dick from Momma. Sshhe got like fifty fake dicksh anyway, wouldn't misshh'd one ad'da bottom uv'va box, right?" She mimicked holding a cock up to her mouth, opening wide, shoving it all the way in. "Sh-sho I practishh'd." She was about done. I couldn't help but wonder when she'd last had a bite to eat. Part of me felt a twinge of concern. What a weak fucking bitch I'd suddenly become! Dropping the now-empty fourth can, Kendra fumbled for a cigarette and missed, falling over instead on the low, armless couch. Her eyes were closed. The way she clutched at the edge of the couch, I had a feeling the room was spinning on my chubby sexy drunk bitch. I wondered if she was going to puke right then and there. My pussy clenched and then swelled, flooded yet again. I really fucking hoped she would blow all over that perfect tile and all over Tina's long, sexy legs. But Tina had a different plan. Her eyes were bright and intense, her glass of wine half-gone and almost forgotten in her slightly trembling hand. Then she bolted down the rest of it, handed the glass to Sal, and stepped away. She pointed at Siobhan, then at the floor in front of Kendra. The Sprite sprang to her feet and skipped lightly around the couch in an instant. She squatted in front of Kendra and gently smoothed my girl's hair away from her face. "Go on..." she purred. "Finish your story...." Kendra burped and froze, her mouth tight. She was close. Siobhan cooed and kept smoothing hair, rubbing her soft naked back. Kendra eventually opened one eye and cracked her mouth in a small smile. She glanced up at Tina, who stood only one pace away, just a little to the side. She was waiting. Watching. "No'mmush lefff... he grab my head an' like'ta fff-fuck my fff-face.... 'Bout crack my thh-throat open dat firssshhh'time I t-took it all'daway down like dat. Could'na mussh fff-fuckin' talk... fff-foraweek. Parenssh th-thhot'ahad sshh-shh-shrep." My bitch couldn't help herself at that point. The memory made her laugh. When she laughed, she lost control of her stomach. A flood of beer and small chunks of other stuff burst out her mouth and nose in an instant, soaking Siobhan's entire front, head to toe. The woman growled with lust, rocking back from the balls of her feet onto her heels, but she didn't lose her balance. She kept squatting there and kept taking hurl after hurl of Kendra's massive beerpuke. An enormous puddle of slippery, slimy vomit was was quickly expanding around Siobhan's little feet, flowing over her perfectly painted, suckable toes. Her round fine ass was dripping with Kendra's gut-juice. Her pussy was soaked with it, there could be no doubt. My own pussy ached to be touched – just one little bit – so it could explode. But I couldn't even rub my thighs together on that goddamn cross! Fuck and fuck and FUCK! I humped air harder than ever. The Sprite leaned in and kissed my girl on her dripping, putrid mouth as the last heave died away. While their mouths were locked, Tina reached down and swirled her hands in the puke puddle between her daughter's feet. She raised hands, one and then the other, and let them drip onto Kendra's flushed cheek. She ran her puke-slicked hands through Kendra's hair. When they finally broke the kiss, Tina was ready with her puke-dripping hands again. She slipped all four fingers on one slippery hand into Kendra's mouth, all the way to the last knuckles, and wiggled them around for a moment. Kendra's eyes were closed, and she shook all over, retching, but didn't puke. Tina pulled her fingers out and then immediately inserted her other hand into my girl's mouth, her thumb tucked, knuckles past her teeth, pushing her vomit-coated hand in deep. Hard. And so Kendra puked again. Right into Siobhan's open mouth. As Kendra began to hurl Tina jerked her hand away and stepped back. Her daughter leaned in close, holding onto the back of Kendra's head, her fist in her hair, her mouth right in front my girl's. The Sprite shook all over as the torrent of redneck girl vomit hit the back of her own throat and splattered hard against her face. Her shoulders hunched, trembled, and then she herself leaned in and heaved full force all over Kendra's whimpering head, neck, and torso. Dark red liquid – wine like Tina's? – seemed like fucking gallons of it, sprayed everywhere. There were pieces of green – lettuce from her lunch?! Again, like mother, like daughter? Of fucking course. Little bits of red cranberry, lots of tiny chunks of walnuts and other dumb healthy shit. Kendra was covered in it. She didn't seem to care. She'd finally passed out. After a moment Siobhan slowly stood. She turned to face me, grinning. One eye was plastered shut with gunk, and her hair was a syrupy, drippy mess of what looked like pepperoni pizza, cereal, and a whole lot of gut-goop. She walked the few steps over to me, stuck on that fucking cross, and strained up on her tippy-toes. She licked my stretched, sore lips. Behind the gag I groaned. She stank so bad. Puke was so fucking gross! So why was I aching more than ever to get off? "Your turn," she rasped, pulling her head back, but not far enough for me. Her face was still right in front of mine, just a little below. She reached up a finger and scraped a small glob of Kendra's vomit off her own eyelid, then she opened her mouth, extended her wine-black tongue, and shoved the finger deep down her throat. I jammed my eyes shut just in time to avoid the worst sting, but I caught a glimpse, just before I did, of the massive liquid blast that erupted from the Sprite's roaring mouth. Hot gushing puke completely covered my face and head. It was in my hair, in my ears. Coming from that angle, from below my face like it was, it even shot up my nose, snuck down my sinuses, and flooded into the back of my throat. I could hear her still hurling, could feel her now aiming for my sore tits and my aching cunt. When the first blast of her new onslaught hit my pussy directly, I shook all over and came. I couldn't help it. Fuck. It felt so fucking hot. So. Fucking. Good! In the midst of my wonderful agony I felt Sal's hard hands at my face, clawing at my gag, yanking the panties out just in time. Because I got sick. So fucking sick. The acid from Siobhan's guts that had leaked down into my throat, it was still burning in my nose – like, behind my nose, inside my fucking face! – and now it burned at the back of my esophagus. My body couldn't take it. Not with an orgasm unlocking me, cunt-outward, and sending every bit of my body into spasm. My own guts shook, then shot upward. Chunky remnants – cheeseburger, fries. Brown and white globs and a thick pinkish mush, liquified, exploded out of my mouth. Tina had released the gag just in time, or else I might have died. I'm not fucking joking. Ever puked into a gag? Do. Not. Do. That. I realized Siobhan's beautiful face was still in front of mine, with my face bent down toward her, and I was vomiting all over it. Her eyes were squeezed shut but her mouth was wide open. As I finished the first main hurl she reached up and pulled my face down hard, both hands gripping my skull. She covered my mouth with hers, shaking. Even in my dizzied, sick-weakened state, I knew what was coming. I groaned. My body stiffened. My pussy throbbed. She puked again. Puked right back up into me as her tongue swirled around mine. Oh the fucking horror, feeling that superheated rush of nasty in my mouth! There were so many bits and pieces of acid-drenched, slimy gunk. Flooding and overflowing. Chunks wedging between my gums and and inside of my lips, cramming heavy again my tongue. Filling me. Filling me without mercy. Hammering at my uvula, triggering my own puke again. She groaned and took my new gutload into her own eager mouth. Then she spasmed, her whole body jerking hard. Her brow suddenly clocked my left eye socket. Felt like a fucking punch! Knocked my head back into the cross. Her hands fell away from my face. I reeled. Spun. My brain was a tilt-a-whirl kind of mess, spinning inside my skull. Bright flashes popped behind my closed eyelids, and my throat and my gut and my mouth all went loose and wet again. And fuck it all. Yet again I was about to hurl. Siobhan reached up and hauled on my face once more. Our mouths crashed together. Her teeth hit my sore lip. Cutting. Bloody. She was puking again. So was I. Vomit rushed up and out, blasting against her vomit rushing in, and at the joining of our faces was this disgusting splatter of puke that seemed to go everywhere at once. It went on and on and on. I dimly realized that Sal had yanked out all my skewers. They were gone. Oh fucking sweet yes, they were gone! Siobhan's heavy round tits pressed tight against me, just below my sore breasts, and her tiny hands were such stupidly powerful claws clutching my face, bending my neck so hard, and we were still french kissing that gut-muck back and forth. Puking. Kissing. Puking. Kissing. It went on and on and on. Then, suddenly, she stepped back. Before I could even open my puke-plastered eyes to try and see what she was doing, a new attack began. Her little hand went into my pussy. Right in. Four fingers, tucked thumb, sliding up. Sliding in. Painfully, rapidly in. IN ME HARD. And I came. She knelt in front of me, curled her hand into a fist, and began to pump me good, punching gently at my cervix. Grinding her knuckles against it. Then she curled her wrist and scraped her second knuckles up against my rough secret spot inside, hunching it over and over until I gushed. Punch, grind, hunch-hunch, gush. That was the beat. That was the beating she gave me inside. I screamed. I thrashed on that cross. I came and came and came! I howled. Like a fucking bitch. My throat was burning and in absolute protest at my noise, but I couldn't stop. So hoarse, so hurting to scream so much, but I just couldn't fucking stop. I rode her hand for more. I screeched for more. I growled and mewled and sobbed for more. Then it was over. She pulled out. She went back down off the platform, back onto her knees in the muck, her hands folded once again behind her back, her eyes cast down, her body covered in slime and stink. "Thank you, sweet girl," Tina murmured. She was far away. I had no idea who she meant. Kendra? Siobhan? Definitely not me. But I really didn't fucking care, either. I was just glad I could rest. I tried so hard not to smell anything at all, too. Tried turning off my nose. But it was so clogged! It was like the smell was permanently embedded inside my face. Permanently soaked into my skin, my hair. Everything was stink. Everything was puke. My stomach still burbled, threatening. It was all I could do to breathe and be still. My eyes were hazy and stinging, but finally I turned to look at my redneck girl. My bitch. My girlfriend. Kendra. She had slid onto the tile floor, onto the slimy, chunk-filled puddle of her puke and Siobhan's. She was squirming around in it on her plump, perfect ass. Her hands collected thick drippy globs of vomit, and she was spreading it over her fat gorgeous tits and cute little round belly. She worked goopy puke-drenched hands into her pussy, masturbating as she watched me still up there on the cross, panting, plastered, and exhausted. She smiled. Her hair was soaked and matted with puke. Her face was covered in it. Her eyes were red and weeping, stinging. But she smiled. Such a smile! She was drunk. She was horny. She was wild. Happy. Ready. "C-can I cc-come?" she croaked. At me. Me. Not Tina. ME. I kept my eyes locked on my bitch. My girl. Tina was close. Watching. I finally managed a nod. Kendra slid the soles of her pretty feet back and forth in the slick wet mess, working hard at her clit. Tina walked over and unstrapped her heels. She soaked a stockinged foot in vomit, then held it, dripping, over Kendra's face. My girl – my girlfriend – she opened her mouth and took all five of Tina's toes, sucking hard. She came with a muffled growl, puking again at the end. Spitting out Tina's foot and jerking her head to the side, the last strong bursts of her orgasm rocked her entire slimy, sweaty, soft body. Her puke at that point was really nothing more than a thin clear spray, and then it was just nothing. She dry heaved, then curled up in the middle of the mess, shaking all over. --- For a while it was just the two of us, breathing. I shivered. I ached. Sad, stabbed, bloody tits. Sore ribs. Raw throat. Slobbery, gunked-up mouth. Lip still swollen. Still tasting blood. Still tasting puke. Nose still clogged. Pussy bruised a little, deep inside. Still had to piss. Still full of shit. Really, really, really full of shit. Still tied to that fucking cross. But the gag was gone. Fuck yeah. At least I could breathe through my mouth. At least I could rest a little. Kendra snored, oblivious, passed out in the puddle of puke. Balled up like a baby. My dirty, slimy, smelly little redneck girl. Adorable. I drifted.... --- Then Sal was back. Unstrapping me. Handling me. She lifted me like a child, her huge hard paws beneath my armpits, and helped me off the platform. Laid me next to Kendra. The tiles were cold, slick, disgusting. So much vomit. But at that point I didn't really care. I couldn't have gotten up. I was done. I was utterly, totally done. I lightly slid my palms back and forth beside me on the tiles. I lay on my back and listened to Kendra sawing logs, so far gone. Sal disappeared. Again I drifted.... --- When Sal came back I opened my eyes again. She was holding a hose. Siobhan was standing naked beneath a new loose t-shirt beside her, sparkling clean all over, her hair hanging curly and cute in dark wet ringlets all around her beautiful face. She held a tall fat stack of white bath towels. She was smiling, staring at us, still hungry. But she was tired too. Dark beneath her eyes. Her makeup was long gone. She was fresh-scrubbed and ready for bed. She yawned. How fucking late was it, anyway? Then Sal turned on the hose. The water was so cold. So fucking frigid. So heavy. The hose blasted us, all over us, and began washing away the filth. The water when it hit my injured titties – oh fuck! Felt like they were ripping off. It hurt so bad! But I lay still. I let it hurt. I let the water pound me, freeze me, work me clean. Kendra came awake with screams, scrabbling up against me, sheltering her face in my side. Soon she was mostly clear of slime, too, her shivering body a tiny soft mess beside me as she squirmed and squealed beneath the pressure of the icy water. Sal grumbled something. Stopped the water and said it again. "Stand up." It took a while, but I did. Then I helped Kendra to stand, too. The water hit us again. We staggered. Wobbled. Clung to one another. "Turn around." We did. After forever she was done. We were washed. Stunned. Frozen. Turning blue. As Sal went around over the floor, blasting water at the tiles, the cross, the couch, directing all the mess toward the various drains here and there, Siobhan thrust a towel into each of my hands. Then she wrapped one around Kendra's shoulders. Kneeling, she then took a fourth towel and began to rub it on my girlfriend's legs, over her tummy, between her chubby sweet thighs, over her shivering beautiful round ass. I watched and dripped. Kendra's eyes were closed. She swayed where she stood. Siobhan threw that towel aside, grabbed another, and wrapped it around Kendra's fat, bruised, perfect boobs, beneath her armpits, and tucked it in. The towel came down just below her pretty, puffy pussy. She took a sixth towel and wrapped Kendra's hair in it, tucking it in expertly as well. Then she led her by the hand. Away from me. I watched and dripped. I swayed where I stood. Siobhan took Kendra past the bar at the end of the dungeon. She led her slowly up a winding black wrought-iron circular staircase. Away from me. Up and out of sight. Up and gone. "You can use those, you know," Tina chirped. She was suddenly standing in front of me, her stockings gone, her feet in soft-looking ballerina slippers. She was wrapped in a long black silk robe, Japanese-style. Obviously naked underneath. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Her eyes were tired, too. But she had that smile. That bitch's smile. She was so fucking beautiful. So fucking in charge of my tired ass. Was I still winning? Did I really want to know? Sal finished with the hose. She moved away and began making small noises, tinkering with something else, off in the opposite corner of the dungeon, near where we'd first come in. She was setting up a cage, made from black thin metal bars, unfolding it from where it had been collapsed and leaned against the wall. It was a dog crate. It was for me. Sal effortlessly picked it up and brought it over, set it between me and Tina. It was about right for a medium pooch, maybe a labrador. Tina pointed at the extra towel, the one Siobhan had thrown down. "Pick that up." I did. Tina pointed at the crate. "Get in." I did. With three towels in my hands and my body still wet, still shivering, goosepimpled, and mostly blue, I crawled inside the cage, onto the cold plastic floor. I curled up. Tucked. I had to. I barely fit. My neck bent, face crammed against my knees. Feet pulled up hard, heels against my sore pussy. Sal tossed three plastic bottles of drinking water in, and they stacked up naturally in the tight space between my ass and the corner. She shut the door. She clicked a lock into place. I closed my eyes. Tina's voice was above me. Over me. "She's such a special girl, isn't she?" "Who?" grumbled Sal. "This one?" Tina chuckled. "No. Of course not. This one isn't a girl. Not anymore. That's her problem. I meant Kendra Lee." Sal's laughter was more like a bark, short and hard. "Yes, mistress. Yeah. I get it." "This one is just a little sexbeast. For now. She's got to learn some things. Her former mistress left her only half-trained, you know." "Yes, mistress." "Keep the lights on." "Yes, mistress." "Turn down the air conditioning. Fifty-five." "Yes, mistress." "Turn up the electronica-d. Level nine. Playlist three. Loop it." "Yes, mistress." A tube of ointment dropped through the top of the cage. Bounced off my cheek. "Put this on your cute little breasts, Annabelle," Tina said. "Do it now before you drift away." I nodded my head slowly, reached slowly for the tube. Slowly, so slowly, I fumbled to get my fingers on the screw top, to open it. "And don't forget to thank me." I nodded again. My voice struggled. My throat was so sore! But I got it out. I did. It was nothing more than a weak, sick, stupid croak, but I said it. "Thank you, mistress." And then I farted. Fuck. I still had to fucking shit. Tina laughed lightly, happily. "That's your ticket out, you know," she taunted me. "Your warm little rectum and what it's cooking right now." "Yes, mistress," I rasped, farting again despite myself. I was so fucking tired! After all the cold, the shivering, the contracting and tightening of every fucking inch of me, I could barely keep the turds from blasting right out. They were right there. Right fucking there. Heavy. Hard. Huge. Wanting out. My guts rumbled. My ass throbbed deep inside. "If you move your bowels before I tell you to, dear," Tina warned, "you will be left in your little crate for twice as long. The room will be made twice as bright, twice as cold, twice as loud. Do you want that?" I shook my head. "No, mistress." "But," she continued, "if you hold it like a good little pet... if you wait until you're let out at the proper time, twelve tiny hours from now... then I will let you move those big smelly bowels. And you'll get a reward. Do you think you can do that? Can you earn your reward?" I nodded. Barely. "Yes, mistress." I whispered. Barely. "Good," Tina purred. "That's a good little thing. My thing. My Annabelle the beast." And then they were gone. Terrible, horrible, ridiculous sounds pounded throughout the room. Dubstep. Oh fucking holy hell. Screeching, bass-dropping, dissonance-worshipping bullshit fucking awful techno-fail fucking goddamn fucking noise. The temperature plunged. The light was bright against my eyelids. No matter how hard I tried to keep them shut, the brightness invaded my brain. I slowly rubbed the ointment on my aching, punctured tits. I covered my face with a towel. Covered my ears and eyes. I shoved another towel beneath my head. I spread the last one, best I could, over my shivering, miserable body. I lay there. Curled and caught. Pounded by noise. Blinded by light. Frozen in place. My nose, once again, was full of snot. My lip still oozed blood. So did my tits. The sting from the ointment was only a little agonizing at first, and then I was just sticky. My throat burned, still raw. I wanted to shit. I had to shit. I had to sleep. Fuck. I was so fucked. --- Hope you liked it! Please email the author with comments or questions (or story suggestions!): olivia.octavia.palmer@gmail.com Copyright 2016 by Olivia Palmer, all rights reserved. Do not repost or redistribute without prior written permission of the author. One copy may be saved for private use, insofar as that use does not extend to personal or financial gain by use of the author's work without consent.