Casey's Ordeal

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

I hope you like crazy. And dark. And intense.

Buckle up, this is a wild ride.

Before you go any further, I have some trigger warnings. Please take caution. This tale is not suitable for everyone. It's not going to be everybody's cup of tea and I totally get that. The last thing I want to do as a writer is to cause harm to my readers.

Trigger warnings: graphic details of sexual acts, non-con/consensual non-con, spankings, sex toys, bondage, humiliation/crying, blowjobs, kinks/fantasies, sexual group activities, and anal sex.

This story is strictly fictional. In real life, remember safety and consent first. All characters are over the legal consenting age of 18 and this is intended only for readers of age 18 and over.

To those of you who have stayed, I'm glad a few of you decided to stick around. Please consider leaving a review and letting me know your honest opinions from thoughts on the story itself to my writing style or anything in-between.

Enjoy.

*

I just wanted to walk to the corner store for a bottle of wine. Something to take the edge off this tedious, boring week.

Instead, I've been dumped into the middle of a horror movie.

How did I get here? Those details don't matter now. The better question is, how do I get out?

I can't see past this blasted blindfold, my wrists are bound together, and multiple hands keep grabbing at me.

That's right. Hands as in plural. More then one pair.

I'm royally screwed.

Fat, sweaty hands grab at my limbs. I kick out frantically with my high-heels, and the mysterious hands wrap themselves tightly around my ankles. Another pair of hands grab onto my bound arms and hoist me upwards. They carry my trembling body like I'm nothing more than a sack of potatoes. My flailing limbs do nothing to deter their strong grip on me. My already erratic heart beat is sent into a frenzy, cold fear filling my stomach with dread. What do these strangers mean to do to me? Are they going to take advantage of me and then dump me in the woods? That's what happens in the crime documentaries I watch every Saturday night. I am going to become another stupid statistic. A random girl on TV who is just another sad story. I desperately suck in mouthfuls of air as I try, in vain, to reign in my panic.

An involuntary grunt escapes me as my body is thrust onto a hard, cold surface. The hands continue to hold me down. While one of them presses my upper body into the hard surface, the other keeps their hold onto my legs. I cry out, and begin wildly bucking my hips. Then I hear a quiet chuckle, almost indiscernible over the blood pounding in my ears, as a third body uses their arms to push my hips down. Fuck. Panicking is only wasting my precious energy and I'm in no position to fight back right now. I force my tense body to go still for the time being, and send up a silent prayer that I'll get a chance to escape. Other than the sound of my heavy breathing, the musky room goes silent for a few brief seconds.

"The scissors," a cold, steely voice orders. And then after a brief pause, the owner of the cruel voice places his lips on my ears. His warm breath makes me shiver. "Now be still unless you want us to cut you," it says. I whimper as a wave of dread washes over me, but I obey the captors' commands. The binds around my wrist are cut first. Then the sound of scissors cutting fabric permits the room as my dress falls away from my body. Cold air hits my bare skin and my stomach plummets. I think I'm going to be sick.

"Ple-please...you don't-you don't have to do this. Just take me back and I won't say anything, I promise. I haven't even seen you. I can't identify you. Nobody has to get in trouble. Please," my voice is shaky. As I speak, my cheeks grow warm in humiliation. I swallow the lump in my throat. A hand cups my mound over my panties and I cry out. Warm tears slid down my face. "I love this part, don't you boys? It's like unwrapping presents on Christmas Eve, only better." I hear a jumble of quiet, rumbling laughter. "Shouldn't keep your sweet pussy wrapped up like this, darling. Let's take these off and see what you have to offer," the evil voice continues.

"No! Get off-"

My frightened protest is cut short by the sound of ripping fabric, which is followed by appreciative whistles and rambunctious laughter. I feel my face turn hot in embarrassment, tears dripping freely off my face as the most private area of my body is exposed to a roomful of strangers. I feel the glide of a cold blade as the scissors work their way across my bra, more whistles ensuing when my D-cup breasts tumble free. I feel my nipples stand erect as cold air sweeps across them. Hands reach out to knead my breasts, twisting and pinching them. I gasp at the painful sensations, my skin smarting as they abuse me.

"Boss will enjoy this one. I just wish I could fuck her first," says a low, raspy voice from somewhere behind me.

Who the fuck are these people? Jesus Christ, have I been kidnapped by a Goddamned mob? My heart does a flip at the thought.

"Boss is coming," says the cruel voice from earlier, "present his gift to him."

Before I can comprehend what is happening to me, I am spread open with a hand clutching each of my limbs. While one hand pulls apart my left ankle, another hand pulls apart my other ankle. A hand thrusts my left arm straight out, while pushing my shoulder into the hard surface. On my right side, another hand repeats the process. My blindfold is finally pushed off my head, shoved down to rest on my neck. I blink against the light from a dirty lightbulb in a ceiling above me, my eyes adjusting to a dark room as I try to see through my tears. The cold surface beneath me is nothing more than a dining room table. It's a large, brown table scattered with scratches and stains. I don't want to know where they came from. My eyes dart amongst the four kidnappers, trying to memorize their features. The man who holds my left arm has dirty, blonde shoulder-length hair. He wears a dirty jump suit, similar to that of someone who works in a car repair shop. He openly appraises my nude body, winking at me when our eyes meet. I blush and look at the man to my right. A skinny boy, probably in his early twenties, with glasses. He has wire-thin, brown hair and sports a wrinkled, Harry Potter themed T-shirt. He glances at me with thin, pursed lips before looking away. The third man at one of my ankles is muscular and bulky with a headful of thick, black hair. His white tank top and black joggers accent his body. I shiver when I realize his bicep is bigger than both of my thighs together. The large bulge in his joggers send waves of unease through me and I look away. The last man at my other ankle has dark, espresso-colored hair with carefully trimmed facial hair. He wears a long sleeve navy shirt and grey slacks. He stares at my breasts for a minute then licks his lips.

I grimace and peer down at my shaking body, rendered essentially immobile as I am spread eagle in the most humiliating manner possible with my naked body on display. The sound of quiet, shuffling footsteps approaching sends my pulse into overdrive and my body's internal flight response kicks on. "Let me go right now!" I scream, the shrillness filling the room. I struggle against the hands as they continue to push me down into the table. I rear my hand back and spit, my spittle flying across the table and completely missing all of my captors. The blond stranger holding onto my shoulders shakes his head with a smirk and comments, "feisty bitch." His hand releases their hold on me momentarily only to reappear with a silver object. He dangles it in front of my face and the sound of metal clinking together echoing in my ears. A horse bit that looks worn with teeth marks. The offensive piece of metal is shoved into my mouth and tied tightly around the back of my head. The metal is uncomfortably tight against my lips and forces my tongue down. I whimper and mumble incoherently against the object, disgust rolling in my belly. Four pairs of eyes watch in amusement.

These men must be evil incarcerated. Monsters. All of them. Presenting me to their king like a feast to be devoured. My body is cold with fear, I tremble and quake as the frightening footsteps grow louder until a figure finally appears at the end of my table. Shock hits in me the gut, knocking my breathe right out of me.

My ex-boyfriend. Steve.

What the fucking hell?

A victorious, shit-eating grin erupts across Steve's face as he openly gazes my nude body. My belly clenches as his eyes slide lower and lower, finally landing between my legs. With a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. This. Isn't. happening. It's just a nightmare, right? I am in my bed sleeping, not about to get gang-raped with my ex-boyfriend as the leader. I shake my head vigorously.

"Thought it was easy to get rid of me, did you Sweetheart?" Steve ambles around to the side of the table, placing a lone fingertip on my ankle and skimming it all the way up my leg. I try to yank my leg away but the man holding my ankle only tightens his bruising grasp even further. Steve's free hand cups the front of his trousers suggestively. "The more you fight it, the harder I get." I spot the familiar bulge in his jeans and my eyes widen. I'm helpless as a new born lamb and his cock is getting hard. The same boy who used to hold his umbrella open for me in the rain. Now four men are holding me open for him.

The tables have not turned in my favor.

I try to plead, "Why?" around my improvised mouth gag but it comes out in a garbled, "Whay?" as my drool dribbles down my chin. Steve's shoulders shake with silent laughter, his skimming finger paused on the inside of my inner thigh. Once his laughter subsides, his eyes turn serious. His cold gaze finds my eyes. "Why? Well isn't that a silly question. I spent two years with you. Taking the privileged little princess out to dinner every weekend. Holding your car door open, buying you flowers, saying all the love-sick things gentlemen are suppose to say. All of that hard work for nothing. You denied me your love, your body." Fear wraps around my heart, squeezing as Steve's sneering gaze returns to the junction between my thighs where my womanhood is on display. I feel his finger slowing trailing up the lips of my pussy, sending a jolting wave of shock through my nerves. His thumb dips in between the lips, presses against my clit, and strokes the bud slowly. To my immense surprise, an intense pleasure shoots through my body. My hips buck of their own accord as I gasp against my gag. The men holding me down laugh at my body's reaction, sending fresh waves of humiliation through my very being. I can not hold back the sobs that wrack my body.

"Now, I'm going to take everything that I deserve and more. I'm going to fuck you into oblivion and then, just when you decide you can't take any more, I'm going to let all my men have a ride too." A familiar heat gathers in my belly and I feel my pussy becoming slick, my juices coating his fingers. I squeeze my eyes shut. How can I even look at him right now? Now he thinks I'm a freak who likes to be taken against her will. Steve chuckles. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm impressed, sweetheart." He leans down to whisper hotly in my ear, "I've never had a pussy this wet before. I knew you would be a good girl."

His fingers abandon their administrations and skim their way up my stomach, stopping at my heaving breasts. He swipes his fingers across my nipples, wiping my juices onto my delicate skin. "Now, don't be too nervous sweetheart. Luckily for you, I'm still a gentleman. Ladies first, am I right?" He places his finger in his mouth, makes a show of sucking off my remaining juices, and then releases them with a resounding pop. "Absolutely delicious," he mutters. The man in the navy shirt holding my leg captive groans aloud, his dark eyes staring openly at me like a starving dog. Steve takes notice. "Don't worry, old boy. You'll get some leftovers."

How is this nightmare my life right now?

Steve turns his back and strolls away. My eyes follow his movements with a mix of curiosity and dread. He stops in front of the wooden dresser drawers that sit across the far wall, opens the top drawer, and rumbles through some unknown items. He mutters aloud to himself but none of his musings are loud enough to discern. Then I hear, "Ahhh, that will do nicely". He turns and strolls back to the end of my table with a purple object in hand. My stomach drops and I yank on my captors hold on me, screaming my protests. He wouldn't do that in front of the others. He wouldn't put me through that humiliation. This should be about his pleasure, not mine. Unless.... He finds his pleasure in my helplessness. In the power he yields over me.

He holds up the clitoral vibrator, grinning as if proud of his choice. The men around me snicker at my horror. Steve's eyes glitter in amusement. "Don't be shy now, little dove. Show everybody what a feisty little hellcat you can be in the bedroom." With that final taunt, I hear him click on the vibrator and the quiet whirring of the motor fills the room. I buck my hips, whimpering cries escaping my throat as it's placed firmly against my throbbing clit. It feels.....so good. Confusion and horror sweep through my mind. Why is my body reacting to this?

I hear the click of the button and the sucking vibrations grow in intensity. White-hot pleasure sweeps through every nerve ending in my body, and I moan. I hear another click and all thoughts are swept from my brain. All I know is pleasure. Pain, pleasure, and humiliation as Steve presses the toy more firmly onto my clit. My back arches as my legs shake uncontrollably. My breathes comes in gasps between my moans. The pleasure builds into an indescribable, relentless inferno. So much pleasure, it hurts. My hips buck and the men laugh, one of them twisting my nipple. An orgasm slams into me and I am helpless to stop it. I ride it, wave after wave of pleasure bulldozing into me as my pussy contracts around the toy.

"Take her gag off. I want to hear her scream and beg." The gag is loosened and pulled out of my mouth.

"You some of a bit-" I yelp when an open palm connects sharply with my cheek. I blink through the stinging sensation. "Careful Casey, I played the role of loving boyfriend for a long time. I have all kinds of suppressed rage. I sure would hate to take it out on a pretty woman." Anger flares through me as I turn to glare at him. "You're going to regret this, and you're not getting awa-"An open palm once again connects roughly against my cheek. I yelp in pain, surprised that I'm not seeing stars. When a metallic taste hits my tongue, I realize I must have bitten my lip in the process.

A sudden, sharp pain hits between my legs. My body jerks in response, crying out as a paddle lands on my pussy for the second time. I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out when I'm struck a third time. "Please," I beg breathlessly, "no more. Enough. Please. No." Steve winks at one of the men holding down my shoulder before holding the whip farther back. The whip whizzes through the air and connects with my sensitive skin once more. A smarting pain zips through my lower body, and I screech at the sensation. I briefly wonder how much one person can endure. How much pain and humiliation will he inflict on me, just to prove a point?

With each resound slap, my clit begins to throb. As the strikes continue, I find myself growing wet again. Steer smirks. "Say please and it all stops." That's it? Just say please? Steve raises the paddle into the air again, my heart thrumming wildly in my chest. I'm desperate enough to beg and grovel at this point.

"Please!"

His arm stills in the air, eyebrows arched. "Maybe you should tell the gentlemen how wet you are for me,". Nausea rolls violently in my stomach and I nearly gag. I shake my head. No way.

Snnap!

I throw my head back, screeching at the smarting sensations in my pussy. When I peer down through blurred vision, there is no mistaken the swollen, red tissues have had enough. "Please, Steve. You're hurting me," I beg breathlessly.

"You know what to say". He pulls his arm back, posing to strike again. A whimpered gasp escapes my lips as I brace myself. "Wait!" I hastily protest. I breathe heavily, as if I had just run a marathon.

"Say it now unless you want five more lashes,". My stomach does a flip flop as my shoulders sag. A few lone tears slip down my cheeks as I force the hoarse, trembling words past my lips.

"I'm-we-I'm wet for you."

The sound of the whip smacking against the table has me jerking my body in surprise, I yelp.

"You can do better. One more chance. Tell them how bad you want me. If it's not convincing, you get 8 more strikes." Tears well in my eyes as I gasp in mouthfuls of air, my stomach heaving with the effort to calm down. How will I ever endure this night? I grimace and open my mouth to comply.

"My pussy is slick. I want Steve so bad, It's throbbing. I want him to fuck it." The words escape my lips hastily, in jumble. The men laugh to themselves, one of them stroking the skin on my ankle. Steve grins triumphantly and lets the whip drop to the floor. I feel a small wave of relief. Until he reaches for the zipper on his jeans and pulls out his erect cock, stroking himself as he watches my reaction. I wiggle on the table but, as earlier, the men tighten their grip on me.

"No, no, no... not like this this. Please".

"Scoot her ass to the edge of the table," he orders. The men do as they are told and I find my ass hanging off the edge of the table, my throbbing cunt in the air. My legs tremble as Steve walks closer. The blonde car-mechanic whispers roughly in my ear, "No getting out of this. You're getting what you deserve. A good fucking to put you in your place." Steve smirks and grasps onto my hips, my wailing sobs fill the basement. My throbbing, wet clit wants Steve to plunge inside my tight walls and fuck me raw but my more sensible side wants this to be over.

The good girl in me wants to crawl into bed and never come out.

The naughty girl wants to be taken.

Steve fists his cock, the tip wet with pre-cum. He rubs the tip up and down my pussy, stopping to spend extra time on my clit. I gasp as pleasure fires up my nerve endings. Can they tell how much my body wants this? Steve rests his cock at my entrance, pausing a moment to flick my sensitive clit. I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying out, but my traitorous legs jerk involuntarily. Liquid heat pulls in my belly.

"You want to be fucked like this don't you? Spread open by four strange men. Held down like an animal with no freedom. Letting them watch you get fucked into oblivion. And the only thing you can do is sit there and take my cock."

I shake my head no, my heart beating so fast I don't even trust myself to form words. The inventible is about to happen and I can't stop it. I have no choice but to let this man take me in a room full of strangers, with my body's reactions on display for everyone to watch. I turn my head to look away, and an overwhelming sense of dread takes away my ability to breathe evenly. The blonde-haired man grabs a fist full of hair and yanks my head back, forcing it to look straight on.

"We want you to watch him when he's inside you," he sneers.

With no more warning, Steve thrusts his cock into me. I scream out, arching my back. Pain ripples through me, an invading sensation of being stretched. Steve moans, his eyes fluttering shut as his grip tightens further on my hips. He thrusts his pulsing cock in and out, one hand wandering up to pinch my nipples. I whimper and grunt as my back chaffs against the surface of the table with each thrust. He pulls out and I see a thin trickle of blood pool onto the table beneath me. He repositions his cock at my entrance and slams back into me. And again. His thrusting cock hits my g-spot and I cry at the heady combination of pain and pleasure, my orgasm slowly building. The man in the navy shirt reaches between our joined bodies and firmly circles my clit with his thumb. An intense pleasure takes over and I thrust my hips in return, moaning softly.