Used and Abused

My first hookup with this man was incredibly hot. I was in my early twenties, and he was in his late fifties. I am not sure what he did for a living, but he must have been successful. He basically had a guest house that, as far as I could tell, was just dedicated to sex. The first time when I got to his place, he took me into one room of this guest house and had me get entirely naked and lie on a massage table. He gave me a deep, long, rough massage. He teased the hell out of me for what seemed like an eternity. I think this was more for his pleasure than mine, as he was overflowing with eagerness when the massage finally ended.

He fucked my brains out. He was incredibly muscular and put all of his strength into railing me. I was screaming by the end of it. He growled right in my ear when he came inside of me.

The second time we hooked up, we went into his actual house for a bit first. We chatted and drank a little. Then more or less repeated the first hookup. The only difference was that this time I wore a thong under my clothes and kept it on during the massage. He pulled it to the side when he fucked me this time. Just as hard as the first time. I often think that the little flair I added is what sparked such a quick escalation in our hookups.

The third time, after another long, teasing massage, he led me into a new room in his guest house. Instead of a simple massage chair, this room had what I can only describe as a fuck table. It was padded and adjustable, and there were a plethora of different ways one could be strapped to it. He strapped me to the table so I was face down, ass up. My wrists, knees, and ankles were bound to the table. He teased my hole with the tip of his cock, then SMACK. He slapped my ass hard and without warning. I literally yelped. He paused. I assume this was to give me an opportunity to protest. I did not. SMACK. Yelp. SMACK. Yelp. SMACK. Yelp. Tears started welling in my eyes. He paused again. This time, instead of an opportunity to protest, it was a demand for supplication. He told me he would only continue if I begged for more. Only if I said, 'Daddy please spank me!' would he continue. So, of course, I begged. I screamed 'Daddy please spank me!'

He did what I implored him to do. He spanked me. Hard. In between spanks, he called me dirty names. Slut. Bitch. Sissy. Hole. Then, he made me parrot his degradation back to him. 'Yes, I'm a stupid slut.' 'Yes, I'm a little bitch.' 'Yes, I'm a brainless sissy.' 'Yes, I'm just a hole for you to use.' The pain, the yelling, the horniness, and the crying made it so I was barely conscious when he finally told me to beg for his dick, but when he did, I blurted out the most desperate, pathetic sequence of pleading possible. I was so turned on by this point that when he slowly slid his dick inside of me, cum squirted out of mine. Each thrust, every impact on my prostate, caused me to eject even more. I tensed and pulled on the straps as he ramped up the speed, but the restraints didn't budge. When he finally got to full-on hard fucking, I pressed my face into the padding and lost all control of the noises being emitted from my mouth. I felt like I was having a perpetual anal orgasm and was on the verge of passing out, but each hard thrust jolted me back to consciousness. When he finally came in me, my mind was mush, and I was no longer in control of my body. He just left me there for a while. My face planted in a puddle of drool, all of my cum pumped out of my dick, and all of his cum pumped into mine. Living, breathing proof that his humiliating insults were, in fact, true.

Afterward, instead of sending me on my way like the first two times, he invited me into his house for a drink. I maybe had two sips of a beer before I fell asleep, cuddled up to him with my head on his chest. The gesture was important. In his sex house, he used me like a toy, but in his actual house, he treated me like a person. This made it so that the nature of the fourth hookup was only slightly terrifying. When he woke me up, we chatted a little before he sent me on my way. I remember him asking me about the rest of my sex life. I confessed that there wasn't much outside of our little thing. I was busy with school and was also an extremely introverted person in general. Hooking up was mostly just stress relief, I said, though that was mostly a lie. He then said, playfully, 'You are too good of a slut to restrict yourself to one man.' At that moment, I just took that as a compliment. It was not until the next time that we hooked up that I realized he meant that literally.

Our communication for the first three hookups was extremely minimal. I met him on Grindr. We exchanged pics. He sent me an address. I went over. Got fucked. I asked for his number. For the next two hookups, I just messaged him when I was free and horny, and he told me when to come over. This time, however, he messaged me first. He asked me if I would be free on a Saturday night three weeks in advance. I said 'yes', then he told me to be at his place at a certain time, no later or earlier. 'Ok, Daddy,' I thought, 'Whatever you say.'

What happened when Saturday finally arrived wasn't entirely a surprise. When the Uber driver dropped me off at the man's place, he asked 'Big party happening?' since there were about a dozen cars parked outside of the house. I mumbled some answer to him, before exiting the car and walking tentatively to the house. The man was waiting outside for me, and he indicated toward the guest house.

When we walked inside, I stripped down to just my thong, anticipating that we would still start with the typical massage. "This is cute," he said and snapped my thong, "but I got you something better." What he got me was a full lingerie set. Black, frilly, and feminine, complete with stockings and garters. Instead of a thong, it had bottomless underwear that kept my ass exposed. Additionally, he had me wear straps on my ankles and wrists, and a collar for my neck. Each of them was thickly padded and had metal rings attached to them.

Instead of having me lie down on the massage table, he led me to a recliner in the corner of the room. He sat down and had me sit on his lap. "Do you know what a safe word is?" he asked. I told him I did. He told me that my safe word is 'peacock'.

"Do you understand?" He asked.

"Yes, I understand."

"Ok, now lie down on my lap."

I was told and laid over his lap with my ass exposed. I was expecting a beating, but I only got a teasing. He gently fingered my hold and patted my ass. He asked me if I wanted to be a good slut tonight.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Tell me."

"I want to be a good slut tonight."

He kept teasing me until I was shaking with anticipation. When he was done, he stood me up. He got out three short chains and three locks. He locked my ankles together, then locked each of my wrists to the sides of my collar. The chain attached to my ankles was so short that could not walk. I felt ridiculous with my hands forced up in the air. I was completely useless and vulnerable. Of course, that was the point.

He then took a ball gag and strapped it in place. 'So much for a safe word,' I thought, but I knew that I could manage to make it audible if I really wanted things to stop. I also knew that there was a slim chance I would actually want things to stop. He then asked if I was ready, as if I could know what I was supposed to be ready for. I nodded anyway. Then he slid a blindfold over my eyes. It was not a thin piece of fabric, but a thick sleeping mask. I legitimately could not see anything. He then picked me up and flung me over his shoulder, carrying me with ease.

We went through two rooms, then down some stairs into a basement area that I did not know existed. I could hear noises as we went down, then a roar of approval when we reached the bottom of the stairs. The man slapped my ass and spun around, showing me off like I was some animal he had captured and brought home for dinner. I still couldn't see anything, but based on the voices it sounded like they were all men. At least fifteen men. The basement was already warm and stuffy from all the body heat. It also stank of beer.

The main guy stood me up in the middle of the room and let the other men tease me. They grabbed my ass, slid their hands under my lingerie, and played with my dick. Most of the hands felt big and strong and rough. My straps made me feel so vulnerable. Waves of heat flooded my body. After teasing me for a bit, a few of them started lathering me in oil. They must have had gallons of the stuff and paid no regard to my lingerie. After only a few seconds, my entire body, from my hair to my toes, was drenched in oil.

I was briefly freed from my straps, but only to be locked into some kind of pillory device. My head and wrists were latched into a board and my knees and ankles were strapped to a padded support. Now, apparently, was the time to abuse my ass with toys. I felt one lube up my asshole and slowly inserted a butt plug. Then came the spanking. There must have been a dozen different toys they used to spank my ass. Paddles, slappers, canes, whips; the works. Thankfully they didn't start out too hard, yet every time one of them gave me a good spank I would yelp and flinch, which only egged them on further. My only moments of reprieve came when they switched out my butt plug for a bigger one. This happened five times. The last one was enormous, and I moaned and whined as one of them eased it into me. I involuntarily let out the biggest gasp of life when it finally slid in. I knew that all of this abuse would make it painful for me to sit for over a week afterward.

By the time they were satisfied with spanking my ass, I already felt destroyed. Yet I knew we were just getting started.

"I'm going to take this off now," the main guy said as he started to unstrap the ball gag, "There is only one word you are allowed to say. You know the word. Otherwise, your mouth is to be used for two things. Moaning like a bitch and sucking our cocks. I don't want to hear anything else, you got it?" I nodded my head.

The moment the ball gag was taken off, a cock was shoved in my mouth. Not the main guy's, I could tell, but one of the other random men. He moaned loudly and the other men chanted encouraging things at the man and degrading things at me. Sooner than I expected, he grabbed my head and shoved his cock down as far as he could. My eyes were watering as he pumped a hot load into my throat. He held it there, forcing me to swallow the entire thing.

When he finally pulled out, I only had a moment to gasp for breath before another cock replaced the previous one. The second one took things a bit more slowly and while I was sucking him off, I felt another man start to slowly ease out the giant butt plug. I moaned hard when it finally slid out, but my moan was muffled by the thick cock in my mouth. The other man replaced the plug with his cock. It went in easy since the plugs had already stretched my asshole out and the spankings had reduced my mind into utter submission. Soon enough I was getting rammed at both ends. A good little twink, oiled up, spit-roasted by older men.

The next few men went by in a blur. All of them used me to their completion. I had multiple loads of cum on my face, in my stomach, on my back, and in my ass. Each one, though, seemed to get more aggressive. Their hips would slam into my already sensitive backside harder and harder. They would hold their cocks down my throat longer and longer. Their denigrating words got meaner and meaner.

It also felt like the cocks were getting bigger and bigger, as if they had decided to go in order from smallest to largest. One guy came up to my face and slapped me over and over with his dick. His kink must have been all about degradation because he never made me suck him. Instead, he just kept slapping me with his dick over and over, and called me any degrading name he could think of. He went off telling me how dumb, pathetic, stupid, and slutty I was. He poured a beer on top of my head. The guy ramming me from behind while this was happening decided to copy him. Then a few more decided that this was a great idea and poured out their beers on me as well. So my entire body turned into a mess of sweat, cum, oil, and beer. Multiple men eventually teamed up to cream all over my face at the same time.

I felt dirty and degraded. I loved it. I loved not being in any sort of control. I would have begged and begged for more. I would have repeated and reaffirmed all of their insults toward me. I would have yelled it at the top of my lungs. But I had been forbidden to speak, so I didn't. Instead, I just moaned and whined and yelped and cried and gasped. I had been moaning so hard for so long that I could feel my voice start to get hoarse.

I had taken a dozen loads at least by this point, but I realized that with this many men on rotation to fuck me, by the time they were all finished some would be ready for round two. This is pretty much what happened. After they all got a chance to fuck me in their preferred way while I was pilloried, they released me from my constraints.

The main guy then took me over to a wall and latched my wrists and ankles to the wall, so I was forced into a kind of starfish position. He asked if I wanted some water, I nodded, then he patiently held a bottle of water up to my lips so that I could drink.

I wasn't strapped to the wall for long before the men were ready for another round, though not necessarily with me. I could hear some of them start to fuck each other. They left me locked against the wall while they did so. I was there long enough for the cum and oil and beer to dry and stick to my skin. Unlike my high-pitched squeals and yelps, they emitted low-pitched groans and grunts at each other when they were getting fucked. Occasionally, one of the men would come by and tease me. Finger my ass, grab my cock, pinch my nipples.

Soon enough, of course, some of them wanted me back in play. I was taken and strapped to a different, but similar, pillory device, but this time I was on my back. Another round of spit roasting commenced. This time they must have agreed to all finish on my face, because that's exactly what they did. Whether they were fucking my ass or my throat, when they were close, they pulled out and came on my face. Eventually my face was completely caked in cum. Even though I had a blindfold on, I still had to squeeze my eyes closed because the blindfold was so soggy from the amount of cum unloaded onto it that it started to leak through.

Then came the grand finale. I didn't know quite what I was supposed to expect, and I was too fucked and abused at that point to competently speculate. I suppose I figured the last thing would be the main guy railing me into submission, locked in to another bondage device. Maybe he would give me permission to speak and have me call myself degrading names while his buddies laughed. In fact, that was what I was hoping for. I didn't get what I hoped for. Instead, I was genuinely surprised by something that, in that moment, felt far more degrading than having a dozen loads of cum on my face.

The main guy locked me up as I had been when he brought me in, legs locked together and wrists attached to my neck. He then laid me down on a padded table. Instead of locking me into some bondage device, he and a few other guys simply held me in place.

I felt another person crawl on top of me. I felt their lips press against mine. My cum covered lips against their feminine ones. They pressed their body against mine. A feminine body. I felt her tits rub against my body. She moaned as she aggressively kissed me. The men in the room were whistling, laughing, and cheering. This was obviously some kink of hers, because she was moaning extremely loud as she kissed me, and rubbed her tits on my cum covered face. Then she slithered down my body, lubed up her hands, and started rubbing my cock with her feminine hands.

"No wait," I said, only to be swiftly slapped in the face. Not very hard, honestly. It was just a firm reminder of the rules.

For a brief moment, I considered shouting 'peacock', but I knew I would regret it if I did. This was a dream scenario, and I would hate it if I destroyed the momentum. I did not want to derail what was clearly a planned-out finale. I felt totally degraded and humiliated and manipulated, but deep down these were things I yearned for. So, I did not file a formal protest by saying 'peacock'. Instead, I shut my mouth and resolved to take whatever was coming next.

After stroking me for a bit longer, I got hard and then she started giving me a blowjob. She was clearly experienced. Her talented tongue, on top of the fuckathon I had just been put through, made it so I was ready to burst when she had only been sucking me off for a few seconds. I wanted to yell out to warm her that I was about to cum, but I also didn't want to get slapped in the face again. So instead I decided to emit the most panicked moans I could muster in the hope that she would get the message and slow down. She got the message. But she sped up. I writhed and jerked, trying desperately to get away but all of the men's muscular hands held me firmly in place. I tensed up as hard as I could and gave a desperate cry. I clenched my muscles as hard as I could. I was on the brink of passing out before I gave in.

I exploded in the woman's mouth. My whole body shuddered and shivered and I pumped out more and more. I think I came more than I had ever cum in my life. After I was done, the woman crawled back up my body and put her mouth on mine. She took all of the cum that I had just ejaculated into her mouth and spit it into mine. My mouth was overflowing with cum and spit and I had no choice but to swallow it all down.

Many of the men cheered, clapped, and laughed throughout this process. When it was all over, I got a bunch of congratulatory pats on my body. That was the end of it, apparently. No one did anything to me or told me anything, though. So I was left lying on the table like a used toy while the men cleaned up the basement. Left to let the cum dry and cake my face. I couldn't do anything but lie there. My wrists and ankles were still restrained. And, even if they weren't, my legs were so weak and wobbly that I would probably collapse if I actually tried to walk.

Now that things had settled, I started to actually feel the effects of being so utterly abused. My backside started to sting from the spankings. My asshole was pulsing with pain from being stretched out and fucked so aggressively. My throat hurt from both the throat fucking and from so much moaning and yelling.

Eventually, the main guy picked me up like a bag of potatoes and carried me upstairs. He brought me into a bathroom, undid my restraints, and then left. I took off my blindfold and my dirty lingerie and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was messy and matted, and streaks of cum were dried on my face. My skin was bright red and was covered in dried oil, sweat, and beer. I turned and looked at my ass. My entire backside was bright red and there were dozens and dozens of welts. The man had placed out a towel as well as some new, normal-looking clothes for me to wear. The welts stung when I showered and washed my body. I took a long shower. For the entire duration of the shower, all I could do was rerun the events that took place over and over. I wanted to engrain what had just happened in my brain so I could use it as masturbation material in perpetuity. My dick got hard again and I was tempted to jack off, but decided to restrain myself just in case the main guy decided he wanted an encore.

When I got out of the shower, the main guy wasn't there. Instead, he had left out my clothes, washed and dried, as well as my phone, wallet, and keys. He had put my stuff next to a kind of gift basket. It contained: a lingerie set similar to what I had just worn; a dildo; two butt plugs; two bottles of water; a half dozen energy bars; a bottle of ibuprofen; and an envelope. I suppose this was his way of giving me a reward for a job well done.