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Subject: {ASSM} Running Over Heather
Date: Tue, 18 Jan 2000 16:10:01 -0500
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Many times I have meandered through day to day happenings with
fragmented images of encounters I'd hope to fall subject to. This is
just one story and is entirely pure fiction, but perhaps one day I will
recant it from true memory. This story is intended for adult readers
only, therefore, if that isn't you, then please move on. This tale
contains bondage, s&m, and rape. All consentual, as it should always
be. Any comments would be gladly accepted. Enjoy!
Running Over Heather
Helplessness was a stranger therefore, a situation that she had
agreed taking part of, in her contract. Something she was now
regretting with each passing moment. She was cold, her head ached, and
the asphalt beneath her was abrasive with the promise of becoming more
so within the hour. Why the hell did she allow this, she thought,
trying to keep her lower body as elevated as she possibly could? She
tried to pull her feet up under her to alleviate the pain in her lower
back but the more she did, the more her head hurt and the more her
shoulder blades ground into the rough pavement, so she let her body rest
back down on the oil and coolant covered ground. She could feel a few
cigarette butts plastered to her back and buttocks and any attempt she
made to wriggle them off was futile, certain that they were sufficiently
coated with enough oil or fuel to remain there until her hands where
free to remove them or until they where scraped off by the road below
her which was a thought she didn’t want to even contemplate. The odd
nocturnal insect passed her by, some even taking the challenge of
climbing her nakedness for a better view of the parking lot. That was,
so far, the most unnerving of the experience, for a few times she could
feel the little buggers heading south over her belly and dipping down
into the crease of her thighs, the feeling was dreadful.
When He had brought her here, just a few hours ago, she was
excited and nervous by His strange request. There were many aspects of
this scenario that aroused her. The likely chance of being caught in a
public parking lot, naked and bound as her new Master used her, and the
helplessness. So far, the plan had failed rather the plan, as she
understood it. They had discussed this, discussed what would happen
minute by minute and she consented happily until they arrived, here in
the deep recesses of the far corner of the parking lot to this exotic
dance club. There where more cars parked here than in the rest of the
lot and until now, she had never wondered why that was; now she was
beginning to understand. This is where the male patrons of the club
parked in hopes that by the end of the evening, they might have had the
luck of finding a dancer to follow them to their car for a few extra
bucks in exchange for a hand-job or head. So far, there had been no one
in sight but it was still too early for the clientele to come staggering
out. There was still time for her, but time for what? What was she
going to do while she waited to be discovered by handfuls of drunken men
with raging hard -ons? She had already tried twisting and tugging any
way she could which was why her head hurt so much. She couldn’t even
manage to move her head enough to see what the bristol board, taped just
above her head on the passenger side door, read. Her entire scalp felt
bruised and her wrists were raw from the cheap, stiff handcuffs that
held her hands up to the sides of her head. Too bad they weren’t cheap
enough to break them away from the two-foot length of chain they were
attached to. She wouldn’t make any more attempts but rather save her
strength, she knew she’d need it. Instead, she let her mind drift off
in anger, to the conversation and planning of this event.
She recalls the morning just a week ago, when He first voiced His
desire to “run her over”. She looked up from the meal she had been
cooking Him, eyes wide, her throat suddenly dry and mouth agape without
sound. He rose from the table quickly, His eyes narrowing to leer at
her reaction. “You don’t honestly think I mean to run you over
entirely, do you? That would be a stupid thing to assume and you don’t
strike me as stupid, Heather, are you. Are you that stupid?” He kept
His stance, eyebrows raised in wait for her answer. She lowered her
eyes at the shame of her ridiculous assumption fearing now that He was
angry and answered, “No, Master. I’m sorry.” He headed toward her, her
heart racing by the intimidating look in His eyes as He swiftly stole
the stainless steel spatula from her hand. “Your not sorry, slut, but
you’re going to be”, He growled as He swung her naked body around to
face the stove, placed her hands on either front corner and pulled her
by the hips so that she was bent at a 90 degree angle. It was
everything she could do to avoid the scalding skillet in which His eggs
and steak where overcooking. Her biggest fear was her long, dark hair,
now dangling in front and recklessly close to the red-hot burner. As if
to hear her thought, He yanked her back further, kicking her legs wide,
with one hand scooped under her, the other freeing His cock from His
jeans. She began panting quickly, hot blood rushing to fill her clit,
her cunt seeping juices that gathered at her swollen lips and cooled
them momentarily. She was going to love being sorry, so she thought
until she saw Him take the spatula, flip His eggs and steak out onto the
plate then set it back into the pan.
Now, with the absence of something to cook, the grease in the
skillet began to smoke and fill her lungs. She turned her head to avoid
the thick, choking fumes then raised it back abruptly when she felt the
head of His cock burrowing into her sticky slit. She moaned and arched
her back, giving her Master free and easy access to her whorehole,
slowly working her hips up and down as He ran the engorged tip through
her gash. He laughed and slapped her ass, still chuckling as He asked,
“Do you want my fire, cunt?” digging His fingers deep into her hipbone.
She nodded anxiously, moaning and panting as her head bobbed. He
slapped her ass harder causing her to buck up against Him and He roared
now in anger, “DO YOU WANT MY FIRE. I WANT AN ANSWER, BITCH”. She
spoke quickly, still nodding, “Yes, Master”. Her body writhed, her ass
swinging shamelessly against His pelvis. A demonic chuckle broke out
from behind and before she could grasp what was about to happen, He took
the spatula from the pan and pressed it to her right ass cheek, holding
it down for a few seconds before returning it to the scalding pan.
Her mind and body seized for the time it took her nervous system
to register then she roared with the searing pain. He held her steady
beneath Him and drove His rigid cock to the hilt in her twitching cunt,
grunting as He ground the last of His trunk to the root. She groaned
deeply, thrashing her head from side to side as his pelvis smashed up
hard against the inflamed cheek of her ass. The symmetry of bliss and
agony, rattling her to the core, her hips wildly bashing against her
Master as she her body tried to make the decision of being on or off the
cock that impaled her.
She could see a silvery flash before her eyes and again, without
time to anticipate, she felt her flesh sizzling under the spatula. This
time she jerked forward hard enough to dislodge her captive in a wet,
sucking farewell, her entire body trembling from the continual cooking
of her left ass cheek despite the absence of the utensil. She wailed
like a banshee, He laughed like Hades and slammed the full length of His
manhood back into her aching body but this time, He miscalculated and
dryly split her anus instead. He pummeled her in deep, penetrating
strokes, feeling His balls filling fast, making certain to grind His
hips cruelly against the blistering red patches on either cheek of her
ass. She bit hard into her tear-bathed lips, panting hard between
mournful whimpers and fucked back, unable to help herself. His cock
felt so good now, spreading her dark hole wide, the pain breathing new
life into the pleasure. He gave one last brutal stab at her bowels and
unloaded a thick spray of molten cream, His teeth pressing into the
fleshy right side above her hip to stifle His howl. He withdrew in an
instant, His cock popping noisily from her puckered ring and drawing out
more than half of His semen with it. She straightened herself a little
and watched as He took the steak from the plate and wiped His cock with
it, sending it to the floor with a splat. “Get your dish,” He
instructed as He lifted the plate from the counter. She reached under
the cupboard and took out her ceramic dog dish, setting it on the floor.
She knew the routine.
If she ruined a meal or cooked one He disliked then she was made
to eat it, all of it, from her dish on the floor. She picked up the
steak trying not to make a face as she eyed the large glob of cum mixed
with her shit in the center of it, and set it in the dish. He tipped
the plate above, letting the cold rubbery eggs slide off to plop and
break over the steak. “You eat up, little mutt. I’m going to shower
and go out to get something decent to eat.” He stood for a moment
watching to ensure that she was going to eat. She always did because He
would find out if she hadn’t. There was no place to hide the food, He
checked everything so she lowered her head and began, thankful that the
eggs covered the sight of the soiled steak. He turned to leave for the
hallway then turned back with a second thought. “You didn’t cum, slut,
did you?” He asked as if He cared. She lifted her head form her bowl
swallowing a large, cold lump of egg in order to answer quickly, “No,
Master” she said nearly gagging. His mouth curled up in a smile, “Good
and you’ll not indulge yourself either. Crawl into the bedroom and get
your belt” He instructed and she moved from her dish swiftly in thanks
though disheartened by having to wear the damn belt. She was hoping
that hunger had slowed His brain but as always nothing did and she crept
through the doorway leading to the bedroom and stood for the belt. He
pulled it up between her legs and snapped down the small pad lock on
either hip. It was the most uncomfortable thing, made of stiff,
unforgiving leather but easy enough to slip a finger or even two into
the side over her mons. He remedied this by taking a full length of
duct tape and sealing both sides, always taking the tape with Him so
that she could not remove His and replace it with another strip before
He got back. He ran it up under each thigh; plastering it to the deep
crease there right up to the belt at her waist then warped her waist 3
times in one continuous piece. “There, that should hold ya. Now back
into the kitchen and finish.” He stood pushing her back to the floor
then stripped for the shower. She crawled back and finished her meal,
wanting to stop by the other bathroom to examine her burns but thinking
better of it.
She was not allowed to cum until the evening had arrived. That
time came and she prepared herself as instructed, for this strange
evening. The first thing on her list of things to do was to languish in
a nice warm bath. “No problem,” she smiled to herself, “I can do
that.” The second thing was to do her nails, fingers and toes then
makeup her face. The next thing was to put her long chestnut hair in
one braid down the center “and make sure it’s nice and tight”. She
smiled at this demand and did as she was told. The last thing was to
slip into her overcoat, nothing on under it and wait in the hallway on
her knees.
After 30 minutes or so, she heard the key in the lock and sat up
high in her heels, her stomach in a hopeless nest of knots. He opened
the door, pulled her up and began His careful inspection. He pulled
aside her coat to make certain that she was bare, checked her braid for
what seemed like security then tugged her through the door without a
word. Inside His pickup truck, the music was blaring, something
sinister like Days of the New or White Zombie. This found it’s way into
her and gathered up a little more anxiety, though not as much as the
cuffs and heavy chain that lay between her and her Master on the trucks
seat. That was some serious looking chain. They arrived at the club,
which, by the way, she had no idea was the parking lot of choice, and
pulled into the far corner. She did notice the cars nearby but had not
noticed that the rest of the lot was not as full as here, in what was an
otherwise secluded area. Her Master turned off the truck, got out and
came around to her side to help her out. Very gentlemanly, she
thought. The spot they were in was dimly lit though well enough to be
seen from ten feet or so away. He stood before her, placing the cuff on
her wrists and fastened both heavy buckles on each cuff. The chain had
been welded to the rings on both cuffs. He ordered her to lie down on
her back and open her coat which she did understanding the procedure
from their discussion. “Lay your braid out above you on the ground” He
barked and she did so readily. He walked to her side, knelt and pulled
up on the chain, hauling her hands up to either side of her head, and
placed the center of it over the braid. “Now,” He said reassuringly,
“if you don’t move an inch, this will work out perfectly, understood?”
She started to nod then remembered that the placement of her hair and
the chain must remain precise. She looked up, confidant, and answered,
“Yes, Master.” He got back into the pickup, started the engine and
began to edge the truck forward, keeping a careful eye on His target.
On the first attempt, He got out and checked for accuracy noting
that He was too far out. She didn’t think so at all, her heart was
racing though the truck had long since stopped coming for her head. He
got back inside and backed it up turning the wheel to the right more
then pulling forward at a snails pace. She promised herself she
wouldn’t watch Him approach but she couldn’t help herself. Oh God, He
was so close and heading for her. Would He lose it if she directed Him
a little, she toiled? She forced her eyelids closed as the trucks tire
came within inches from her head and the moments to follow seemed like
hours. Finally the engine stopped and He was standing to her left. She
tried to turn her head to meet His eyes but was stopped painfully as the
trucks tire held her head pinned by her braid. He smiled then bent,
pulling up hard on the chain, leaning back with His entire body weight
and smiled, sure that it too was secure under the tire.
He stepped over her, straddling her head and she felt a tinge of
excitement, wondering what He meant to do. To her dismay, He only
pulled open the passenger door and took out a large thin, white board.
She could only see it in her peripheral, noting that there was writing
of some sort on it but unable to read it as it whizzed past her head.
He pulled tape from His pocket and affixed it to the outer door. This
was not something He had let her in on and she became worried. The next
thing He did worried her even more. He leant down, still smiling His “I
know a secret” smile and brandishing a pair of scissors. Her eyes
widened, the urge to scream almost overpowering but she remained still,
certain He would not harm her permanently, in any way. He began cutting
the coat off of her arms then gave a hefty pull and tore it out from
under her so that now her naked body lay in the cold filth of the
parking lot. He walked back to the truck, tossed the coat in, locked
both doors, checking to make sure He had the keys and began walking
away. She heard His footfall as He left her and she screamed after Him
but her did not reply or return.
That was nearly four hours ago, she figured and all she could do,
after many useless attempts to get free, was to wait and pray like hell
that the first man out of the bar would be kind enough to call the
police or something, anything. A few moments later she saw that man
emerge from the side door of the club. He swayed a little but managed
fairly, towards her oblivious to her presence and then he stopped,
squeezing his eyes shut then opening them again in disbelief. Yes, she
thought angrily, there is a naked woman pinned under a truck right in
front of you. She could swear her heart was showing up through her
chest. What would he do? Christ, help me you idiot, she screamed inside
her head but said nothing as the man approached her. His face was one
of shock and to her, this was a good thing. He was disgusted, appalled,
and surely he would help her but the instant his thin lips twisted up
into that grin, she knew it was all over. He stood at her feet and she
could not see his face clear enough to decide what his intentions
where. She began thrashing her legs out when he tried to kneel between
her legs but within a few moments, she felt a pair of strong hands on
her right ankle, followed almost instantly by another pair on her left.
Quickly and awkwardly, the man between her legs began toying with her
cunt and she twisted and screamed obscenities to deaf ears. He was
rough, shoving his fingers deep, his nails scraping the walls inside.
Men began gathering around her like flies to shit and she screamed at
each and every one of them, cursing them to hell, threatening them with
the police and one inebriated man leaned toward her, his breath acrid
and ripe “The sign says FUCK ME, miss. We’re just doin’ what it says to
do”, he slurred. She didn’t seem at all surprised by this information
and tried to remain calm during this feast in which she was the meat.
Men came and went, some cumming quickly, some taking far too long, some
fucked her cunt, some her ass. It seemed like thousands of men, she
didn’t count but she had cum at least 4 or 5 times so far which
surprised her. Even she had no idea that she was such a whore. She lay
there and endured the barrage of attackers, old, young, fat, skinny
either way, cock was cock and she was going to enjoy it if she could.
Her Master rarely let her cum so to her this was not so bad after all.
She wasn’t even sure if her Master would return for her, or at least
this was the story she told me as I waited for my turn.
L/2000
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