Chapter 9
The animal came quickly. Ginny could feel the friction building inside her violated pussy. The knobs and bumps covering Mike's red cock slurped and twisted around in her snatch.
She could find no pleasure in what was happening to her. The heat that had been generated by the animal's tongue before was all gone. All she could think of was her cunt being fucked by a Doberman's dick! An animal, a dog was covering her body with his, drooling on her back, scratching her titties and belly with his claws while hammering his prick in and out of her pussy. The girl fought down the desire to fight back. No, the animal would only tear her throat. No, she had to endure this. Surely it had to end sometime. Paul and Burt would get tired and . . . and oh God, she could feel the dick vibrating inside her pussy. She could feel Mike's body trembling more violently against her flesh. Ginny felt Mike's body trembling more violently against her flesh. Ginny felt her skin pucker up into goosep,jmples. Her mind whirled about in a storm of disgust. He was going to cum! The Doberman was going to blow his load of doggie jizz into her cunt!
Ginny bit her lower lip hard, sucking in blood as her head shook wildly from side to side. Her toes straightened and she dug her nails against the floor. There was the sickening knowledge that at any second she was going to be bathed in animal spunk!
"Hey, man, he's shootin!" Burt cried.
"Watch," Paul said, fingering his cock more hurriedly as he watched the fucked girl excitedly.
Mike's ass suddenly stopped its rapid up and down movement. His head twisted to the left and his eyes danced in his head. The two men watched as the dog's black nostrils quivered and flared and his stubby tail wagged jerkily back and forth. Then his ass rose quickly, slid from side to side, and thrust back down again. They could hear a squishy sound as Mike repeated that action again and again. They watched as thin whitish dribbles of liquid started oozing down the backs of Ginny's trembling white legs.
Ginny cried out again and again, begging them to get the animal off her. He seemed to keep cumming, to keep firing his load of hot jizz into her pussy, filling it up with his revolting cum and still shooting more. The young blonde shivered as she felt the jizz running down the backs of her legs. She was swimming in a sea of animal spunk!
Oh God, this was going to be her end, trapped in a basement to be fucked time and again by a dog! Ginny felt her body relaxing as she finally lost consciousness. Blessed, blessed black unconsciousness. For the first time in hours, the teenager was happy. The last thing she could remember was the dog's loud barking as she slumped to the floor in a crumpled heap. There wasn't anything they could do to her now! They could beat her, throw her to a herd of animals. No, she was unconscious, in a world where Paul and Burt couldn't touch her.
When she awoke Ginny found herself hanging from some sort of weird device. She slowly opened her eyes, making sure the two men she heard talking in front of her still thought she was unconscious. Looking through her long blonde lashes, Ginny could see both Paul and Burt had slipped on their trousers since she'd passed out. The dog was gone, thank God, although she could still feel something wet and warm in her pussy. The thought that it was the animal's cum made her sick. But again the blonde teenager fought back her disgust, realizing her ordeal was far from over.
Paul Martin was indeed a sick man. She'd heard about stories of men who led supposedly very normal lives and then, years later, were found to have entrapped young boys or women in their homes to torture them, then dispose of their remains. A man in Montana several years ago was found with six female corpses under his porch, while several in California, Texas and Illinois were charged with torturing and killing over a hundred young boys. Was this another such horror? That possibility made Ginny shake with terror. Was she the first or simply another victim in Paul Martin's little operation? Was he going to let her go, or was she about to become a victim to be stuffed under the floor after she'd served her purpose? The possibilities froze her blood.
"I think she's awake. Look at how her skin's quivering," Paul observed cooly.
Ginny sighed. She blinked her eyes open and looked around. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her wrists. Her arms were stretched over her head once again. There was a dull, throbbing ache in her shoulder. Something was being clamped over her wrists, shackling them to the cold cement wall behind her. Ginny wondered why her feet and ankles were left untied.
"She's a good one, probably the best we've had," Paul said.
So, there had been others! Ginny's mind whirled. She wondered which girls in school had been his victims. With a sudden flare of anger, the girl kicked out one leg, trying to bury her toes in Paul Martin's crotch. He deserved to have his balls cut off and stuffed down his throat. To think he was carrying on this kind of activity without worrying about anyone telling on him. How perfect-get a girl worried about her grades, promise her private tutoring, then drag her down here and take photos of her doing obscene things. She'd be so intimidated she'd do anything to get those pictures back, or at least get a promise he wouldn't use them. What a clever, diabolical scheme!
Paul was fast, moving his hips to one side and ducking the blow.
"Hey ..." Burt started to say, then checked himself when he saw the teacher's face darken.
"Want to play?" Paul asked, his face lighting up with sadistic anger and pleasure.
Ginny watched the fingers of his right hand curl into a fist, then fly at her. She doubled up, her cheeks puffing out while her eyes bugged. Paul had swung his doubled fist into her belly with all his strength. The blow went past the soft muscles of her belly, bruising it, she felt it in her entire body. Ginny gagged, the dull pain wrenching every bone and muscle in her body. Her hair whipped across her flushed face as she twisted her head to one side and gasped for breath.
Paul said nothing, watching as she pulled herself up, trying to protect herself from another blow. She stared at the big teacher, her mouth open wide with horrified disbelief. The playing had stopped. Now he was tearing into her like a Nazi SS captain, holding her captive with those chains or cuffs or whatever he had up there.
"Uhhhh . . . uhhh ..." she grunted, panic showing in her eyes.
Paul stood back, rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet. He was obviously pleased at what he'd done.
"I'll bet you're wondering how many others we've had down here," Paul said, guessing what was on the cringing blonde's mind.
"No, yes, I . . . " Ginny was afraid to say anything. The wrong answer might bring another painful blow. She didn't know if she could take a second attack.
"You think I'd tell you? Let's just say you're not the first, and I'm not the only teacher doing this," Paul Martin said. He seemed to be pleased with giving her this kind of information. He was studying her, watching her rising panic and horror as he described what other things he'd done to girls in the basement. When he finally got to the parts about cutting them with knives and pinching their flesh with clamps Ginny closed her eyes and screamed for him to stop.
"Please, let me go," she said softly, hanging her head in defeat. The metal bands of her wrists were starting to cut into her flesh. All her weight was suspended from the sharp-edged restraints.
Ginny watched in terror as Paul brought the hand he'd held behind his back forward. He was holding a black leather riding crop in one hand, the thong looped around his thumb and across the back of his hand. Even Burt looked at the young teacher with surprise.
"You're going to use this on her?"
"Of course, why not? Perhaps she needs a lesson in discipline. It's something I'm sure her parents never gave her. Parents are far too lax nowadays. They should use the rod and never spoil the child." Paul chuckled at his manipulation of the old saying.
Ginny shook her head violently from side to side, that movement making her body jiggle and bounce. The added jerking made the cuffs tear into her skin. Sweat poured from under her arms, itching where it trickled across the sides of her big tits.
Paul struck quickly. Without cocking his arm, he lashed the end of the crop backhanded across Ginny's belly.
The girl screamed, digging her shoulders against the cement block wall behind her, arching her back and kicking out at him. She swung out, then crashed back as he slashed the crop agian over her right cheekbone.
"OHHHHH!" The force of the blow made her head snap to one side. Ginny choked down a second scream.
Cool air on her cheek told the girl Paul had scarred her face for life. She licked the blood from the corner of her mouth. She tried to ignore the pain in her belly. God, God, was he going to keep doing this, beating her with the riding crop, making her sick with pain until she puked on herself? They weren't taking pictures any more. This was just for fun!
"Enjoying this?"
"How could you? You're a teacher. You're supposed to teach, not do . . . this! What kind of man are you?" the young girl blurted.
She instantly regretted she'd said anything to counter Paul Martin. He looked angrily at her, his eyes narrowing, his lips quivering with hatred. There was something pathologically wrong with this man, something that made the girl tremble with fierce terror. She watched as he purpled, his entire body shaking. Then he jerked his hand back, slashing the crop across Ginny's nipple.
The slicing pain of that blow was only the beginning for the blonde. After her wild scream, and after the spasm that drew her legs up to her belly, the pain went on and on. It was like a raw gash with someone pouring salty water on it. She ground her teeth together, hating Paul Martin and Burt Roberts bitterly. She wanted Paul to come close enough to her to kick him again. This time she wouldn't miss. No, she'd kick him in the balls and make him sorry he'd ever tried to fool around with her.
Another slicing blow across the belly made Ginny screw her face into a mask of twisted pain. God, God, when would she have a chance to kick his balls? For now, that was the only thing on her mind. She was going to do to him what he was doing to her.
"You're quiet, Ginny. What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Don't you have anything to say? You've always got something to say in class, even if it's stupid and wrong," he said, his temper growing again.
The blonde sagged in the cuffs. The tips of her toes barely touched the floor.
"Bitch!" he cried, flaring again. He slashed the end of the crop across her once more, peeling a narrow strip of skin from her left tit.
The girl writhed from the pain. She could feel the warm sticky flow of blood down her body. The crop wasn't destroying her, but the blows were making her faint with pain. Only hatred and determination kept her conscious. Through a haze of agony she could see the two men in front of her laughing at her pain, enjoying her wincing, her screams, the way her body jiggled and swayed from side to side like a pendulum as the crop slashed and sliced her flesh.
She'd get back at them if it was the last things she did.
Paul looked at her like an animal, licking his lips. The twisting, tortured body hanging limply in front of him excited him. He forgot all about Burt, who seemed to be having second thoughts about what was happening. Several times Ginny thought she heard the young athlete ask Mr. Martin if he was going too far. But Paul Martin shrugged off those questions, growing more and more sadistically excited as Ginny's moans grew louder.
Then he stepped forward, bringing his free hand forward to tangle his fingers in her matted blonde cunt hair. Ginny fought off the comforting daze that had settled over her mind with the temporary cessation of the beating. She stiffened her body, feeling those horrible fingers snake through her pussy hairs. Then he pulled his hand back rapidly and tore out tufts of her cuntal curls.
"YAHHHHHH!" Ginny cried, her head snapping back and hitting the wall. She heard Paul laughing loudly as he threw the yanked hairs in the air, then pushed his hand back into her snatch. He was twisting out more hairs, tearing at her cunt. This was too much. Ginny brought her knee up, kicking out one leg in hope of finding that solid, hard crotch she wanted to destroy.
Paul's hand flew across her face.
"You goddamned silly little cunt! You think you can get back at me, ME?"
The crop lashed her face, her lips and the tops of her jiggling tits in revenge for what she had tried to do. Ginny struggled, dragging herself across the wall, trying to twist the front of her body away from the slashing crop.
No, he was going to peel every square inch of flesh from her body!
Then his fingers were back in her pussy, tearing into the soft, vulnerable flesh of her cunt.
"Wet . . . wet with dog jizz, you fuckin' bitch. You've been out fucking with animals?"
Ginny looked at the teacher. She didn't recognize him now. He was some animal, some demented creature sent from hell to torture her! He was cleaning her out, scraping out the animal's cum with his fingers, then wiping them across her face and in her hair. At times he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe her pussy lips and cunt clean, then throwing it down to the floor in disgust. When Ginny could feel his ragged fingernails tearing into the soft skin of her cunt lips, the girl felt an odd kind of fire starting up inside her snatch.
Ohhh, she was actually responding to this kind of cruelty! The pain before had been too intense for her to notice it. But now that the crop had stopped torturing her body and only Paul's hands were violating her, the young blonde could feel her pussy responding violently.
The battle changed now. Paul's grabbing, twisting hand moved more slowly in her cunt. Ginny moved her hips involuntarily. She was still looking for an opening that would let her kick his balls and cock into a mess. But her motions slowed with his.
Paul's growling changed. He slowed even more, making Ginny feel fluid running like a river of lava in her cunt. It wasn't the Doberman's jizz any more. Paul had cleaned that out already. It was her own excited juice, bubbling like a frothy liquor from the depths of her excited pussy.
Ohh, it was horrible of her to get excited over this kind of torture. It meant she was as sick and demented as Burt and Paul. Burt, where was he? She looked around and couldn't find him. He must have left. Ohhh, good, so what? The danger of what might happen to her faded when the fire of her tortured pussy flamed up, the wild storm assailing her belly and itching nipples.
Ginny hated herself for responding this way. But how could she stop herself? She was tied up-helpless before this big man. She hung limply from the cuffs, her shoulders twisting around so she could press her tits against the smooth-shaven sides of Paul's face. Yes, she was actually trying to caress him like a lover. All the pain, all the horror of several hours ago, faded in her perverted sexual fog. she wanted him, wanted him desperately. He could do anything he wanted to her.
Ginny watched, horrified and aroused as Paul reached down to unzip his Levi's. He was disrobing again, his cock once more hard and ready for a good, wild fucking. Ginny was amazed the young teacher could cum as many times as he did. Her tits heaved with her deep, raspy breaths. She turned her head to one side, watching him from the corner of one eye.
There was still a shred of pride in her. She couldn't see herself hungering openly for that man's fat cock. And yet, that wild feeling inside her was turning the girl into a sex-machine. Her blue eyes rolled toward him finally, almost defying him to come to her. The wet, trembling pout of her bloated cunt lips told Paul she was quivering and ready for anything he wanted to do.
"You're a hell of a hot little whore, you know what? The other girls who've been down here kept on screaming and yelling. But not you, Ginny . . . you're different. I could tell that the second you walked into my class the first day. There was something about the way you looked at me, something made me sure you'd like this."
Paul's cock was straight, hard and thick, jutting out from the opened halves of his faded Levi's. Ginny closed her legs, dangling just in front of the wall. The twisting motion her body now made kept her from touching that cold cement. She could feel her nipples, sore and tortured from the beating of the crop, puckering into stiff points. Her big tits were flattened somewhat by the radical upward pull of her clasped arms.
The biology teacher dropped his pants, his fat, dark-red and thickly veined cock jerking and dancing as if he hadn't cum for a month. The hair around his dick glistened with sweat and stale cum. She watched as his fat, leathery balls jiggling back and forth as he stepped from his trousers.
Ginny's joints were hurting. The strain on her wrists and shoulders grew worse as she tried to conceal her pussy from the teacher. Yes, she wanted his cock. But something inside her told the girl she must play out this game of resistance to a wild force.
"Yes, I knew you'd be good for our games down here," Paul repeated, picking up his crop and winding the thong carefully around his hand. He prodded her tit with it. Ginny felt the leather and metal tip press into her boob flesh, just under her nipple. He rolled it around. A shiver of terror and excitement fluttered from her nipple to her pussy. Ginny pressed her toes to the cold concrete basement floor. Her tits swelled, and the strain on her arms eased a bit.
Paul walked in front of her, the tip of the riding crop trailing across the undersides of her tits. His cock seemed to swell and lengthen even more. Ginny's eyes concentrated on the fat fuck meat, her heart pounding like a hammer.
Then suddenly, with a quick savage movement, the young teacher slashed the crop across both nipples. Ginny's eyelids fluttered, her lower jaw slackening as she let out a sharp squeal. Her body jiggled and she started to scream again. But she fought it down, firmly setting her jaw and looking with hatred at Paul.
"Good, good, I like defiance," he said, noticing her look. He smiled grimly at her, working his drooling lips back and forth.
Ginny wanted to spit, but held back. Yes, she'd get at him somehow.