Technically, it would be Tim’s turn.  He didn’t look too terribly excited, however.

Once Joe was done, he’d pushed Joan off of himself, inadvertently knocking her off the bed as well.  Luckily for Joan, her hands were not yet bound, so she was able to catch herself instead of landing on her damaged ribs.  The bleeding from the rip above her anus was a fraction of what it had been while Joe was still going at it, but it was still bleeding, and while watching the rape play out in front of him had been highly erotic, the idea of actually putting his dick into her while she was actively bleeding was a bit of a turn off for Tim.

Joan was sitting propped up on her right hand, her panting through the ring gag making her sound a bit like Darth Vader.  She was looking back and forth between Gerald and Tim with an alert look in her eyes that Gerald took note of.  It seemed that although cracking a rib and sticking a needle in her eye had knocked the fight out of her for a while, the anal raping had woken her up a bit.  Although it was a bit unusual, Gerald wasn’t terribly surprised.  Different women reacted in different ways to different situations.  He was, however, intrigued.

“Mind if I look through your toy box, Jerry?” Tim asked.

“Nah, go ahead,” Gerald replied, somewhat distracted, watching Joan’s eyes cut from the door, then back to him.  As Tim moved toward the box full of bondage items, he left Gerald the only one standing between Joan and what she thought was freedom.  Gerald, who was much smaller in stature than Tim, and whom she had almost overpowered before.

Gerald, his eyes never leaving Joan’s, saw that the woman had immediately recognized the supposed opportunity.  Her injured eye blinked slower than her left, her injured side was already turning blue around her hand, and the rip on her backside must have been agonizing, but none of that would really keep her from being able to at least run out the front door and scream for help.  She subtly changed her posture to one more suited for sprinting than recuperating.

Joan wasn’t stupid.  In fact, she was quite smart.  None of them had any weapons that she had noticed, and the only one that seemed likely at all to have something concealed would be Gerald, and he hadn’t reached for anything earlier when she’d almost knocked him over.  She had no way of knowing that Gerald had her locked in her own home with his modifications to the doors and windows, nor that he’d seen the same look in different womens’ eyes many times before.  That he was watching her was no surprise. She’d been the focus of attention since she was pulled out of the cage.

“Hey Gerald,” Joe said from Joan’s bed, where he was still laying on his back staring at the ceiling, relaxing with one arm behind his head, under her pillows.

She waited until Gerald had broken eye contact with her to look over at Joe, then sprang into action, bolting for the door.

Startled at the sudden noise and movement, Joe sat up and Tim dropped the piece of equipment for which he’d been trying to discern the use and turned quickly around just in time to see the trailing edge of Joan’s night gown as she ran out into the hall.

Gerald, however, was standing perfectly still, watching the horrified look on Joe’s face turn to one of confusion, and noting that Tim had a rather stupid look on his, though comprehension was slowly dawning.  They had reason to be confused – their victim had just escaped, and Gerald was just standing there trying to contain a grin.  He didn’t even have the remote for the shock collar in hand.

Then they heard a noise from the hall.

Thud – THUD – ka-clunk…

Gerald stepped into the hallway and began laughing in earnest.

Tim shook his head, his big body shaking with silent laughter, but Joe was lost.  He sat up, wiped his now limp and bloody penis on the blanket on Joan’s bed, and walked out into the hallway.

Laying on her back where the hall met the living room was Joan, a syringe sticking out of her left side.  There was a white powdery substance on her right shoulder, and a large dent in the drywall of the hallway that Joe was sure hadn’t been there before.

Blinking, a half grin on his face, Joe turned to Gerald, who responded before any questions could be asked.

“I got her on the left side as she ran past, so that’s where she lost it first.  I figure she bounced off the wall on the left, then crashed full force into the other side,” he said, making hand gestures and tilting his upper body left and right to compliment his theory.  “Not sure how she ended up on her back instead of her face, though.”

Just as Joe was about to ask why he didn’t just sedate her there in the bedroom if he’d already been prepared for her to try and escape, Gerald continued.

“In a minute or so Tim’s gonna pull the collapsible doggie stand that’ll hold her on her hands and knees out of the box and ask if we want to go watch TV while he skull fucks her sitting on her couch.  Now we don’t have to drag her all the way down the hall.”

“Didn’t he do that same thing with the last one?” Joe asked, bemused.  Gerald’s ability to predict the future never ceased to amaze him.

“Didn’t you sodomize the last one on her bed?” Gerald retorted, then nodded toward Joan’s prone body. “You guys are all as predictable as they are.  Lucky for you, they’re prettier and more fun to torture.”

He certainly has a point, Joe thought as he watched Gerald grab Joan by her arms and drag her toward the couch.

“’Scuse me,” Tim said as he squeezed past Joe, the big man carrying a folded iron contraption and headed toward the living room.

—————————

There was something oddly surreal about three guys sitting on a couch watching prime time television and eating pizza while orally raping a woman over and over again.

Though the paralyzation hadn’t lasted nearly as long, it had been doubly horrifying to be used in such a manner without being able to even tense her muscles or provide any resistance.  It was, by far, the most helpless she had ever felt in her life as she was pulled up and down Tim’s cock by her hair.  She’d been able to see and feel the contraption that she’d been locked into, and she held no delusions that she could escape from it.

A metal bar in the shape of a capital I with cuffs at each point held her on her hands and knees.  Her waist and throat were strapped to two bars that pointed straight up from the I, preventing her from laying down.  She would be at attention to suck them off for as long as they wanted her to be.

The fact that they’d stripped her of her night gown also made escaping out the front door less desirable, though she chastised herself mentally for being so stupidly vain.  It didn’t matter anyway.  Before they’d bound her, Gerald had taken the time to show her what he had done to the front and back doors, both of which could be seen from her living room, and explained what he did to the windows.  Aside from breaking a window, all of which were double paned, or stealing the key to the front door from Gerald, Joan knew she was trapped.

“Don’t we need to feed her or something?” Joe asked, watching as Tim took his second turn while Joan, though clenching her fists hard enough that her knuckles were white, seemed to have accepted her situation.  Joe remembered that, when it was his turn, she had
even used a little tongue, probably in an effort to bring a quicker end to her torture.  Unfortunately for Joan, men have a tendency to become instantly multi-orgasmic when there is violence and torture involved, though Joe noticed that his member was pretty much exhausted, even after watching Tim blast his load down the throat of the sobbing woman.

“Nah, she can survive off jizz for a little while.  I’ll probably feed her something tonight…maybe.” Gerald replied, never taking his eyes off the television.

Tim, finished for the evening, asked if either of the men wanted to take another turn.  Both declined, leaving Joan in the humiliating position of being bound in such a manner, used, and now discarded.  Her hopes of being released, now that they were finished with her, were also dashed by Tim’s next question.

“Normal fuckfest tomorrow?” the big man asked while buttoning and zipping his pants.

Gerald, after taking a moment to laugh at the end of the show he had been watching, replied, “Yep, of course, I make almost as much money off all them as I do you guys.  And then that surgeon is coming in the evening.  He paid extra for alone time.”

“Really?” Joe said, sounding surprised, “for this one?  She’s not ugly by any stretch, but we’ve had prettier.  Why this one?”

Joan was again humiliated by the offhanded insult, but was more worried about the idea of alone time with a surgeon than any humiliation.

Gerald powered off the TV and looked over at Joe.

“Her hard limit.”

“Oh, shit, ouch, poor woman,” said Joe, while Tim cringed reflexively at the thought of a surgeon with a woman at his disposal that had a phobia of needles.

The woman on the floor was on the verge of panic, but a glimmer of hope had appeared in what sounded like possible sympathy coming from Joe.  Maybe even he knew that needles were far more horrifying than anything anyone deserved.

“Any idea what he plans to do with her,” Joe asked hesitantly, “or do I even want to know?”

“I didn’t ask,” Gerald responded, while standing up and stretching, “I’m hoping he’ll take her after he’s done with her.  Plastic surgeons see themselves as artists, after all.  Surely he’ll want to keep his work, right?”

“I can see that,” said Joe, in a noncommittal voice that dashed any hopes Joan may have had that he would help her. “After all, what good will she be once he’s done with her, to anyone but him?”

“That’s kind of what I’m thinking,” replied Gerald, sounding a bit worried.  “Tim, would you mind hauling her into her room?  I’m ready for bed.”

“No problem,” the big man replied as he stood.

Wrapping one big hand around the bar that held Joan’s waist aloft, Tim hefted her up, bondage and all, and flipped her upside down, using the bottom of the stand as a convenient handle.  Joan screamed reflexively from behind her ring gag as all her weight suddenly shifted, gravity became her worst enemy, and new bruises were abruptly created on the back of her neck and the small of her back.

Luckily the trip was a short one, and after watching her hall go by from a completely new point of view, Joan was deposited right side up beside her bed.  Gerald promptly wrapped a chain tightly around her waist, locked it, then attached it to the frame of her bed.  He did not release her from the I bar.

Her bloodied covers were tossed to the floor so that Gerald would have a clean place to sleep.

“You guys sticking around,” Gerald asked his two sleepy looking customers.

“Naw,” said Tim, “I don’t care to see what happens to her.”

“Me either,” said Joe, “the eye thing was more than enough for one…lifetime.”

“I don’t blame you!” Gerald said, then followed them into the front room.

Once left alone, Joan briefly tugged at her restraints in a flurry of frustration and tears, but the straps held fast and she was sure there was no way she could escape the chain around her waist.

Gerald returned to see that, not surprisingly, Joan had moved about an inch and was completely flustered, her face and eyes red with tears flowing freely.

“I’ll take that gag off and give you some water, but you have to promise you will not say a word.  Not one,” Gerald said, “can you do that?”

Joan nodded quickly, as Gerald assumed she would.  She had no doubt that he would either shock the hell out of her, or, at the very least, but the gag right back in if she said a thing.  Not that she planned on remaining silent, but she was going to take time to consider what she would say, as she knew she might only have once chance.

After he’d removed the ring gag and gone to get her a cup of water, Joan flexed her jaw back and forth, attempting to work out the stiffness that resulted from being held open for hours on end.

Although intensely thirsty, Joan was unable to drink all of the water that Gerald patiently fed her from the oversized cup he’d found in her kitchen.  She found the ease with which he fed water to a bound woman very disturbing.

She really needed to use the restroom, but was afraid to use her one chance on something like that.  Even if he didn’t already know that, by now, she must need to pee, he probably wouldn’t care and would expect her to hold it until he felt like releasing her, whenever that would be.

Gerald, however, was prepared for such needs, and went to his bag, which was behind Joan and out of her sight, for the remedy.

She was in no position to fight when she felt Gerald roughly pushing the folds of her pussy to either side while probing around, obviously looking for something.

Then he found it.  Her urethra.  Joan felt pressure on the spot, then the completely foreign presence of something solid inserted into the tiny hole.  Her urge to urinate was even stronger now that she could not naturally squeeze the passage shut, and she even experimented with pushing a bit to see if she could force it out, but the plug would not budge.  If anything, the pushing had further increased her discomfort by causing a bit of soreness in her full bladder.

Not surprisingly, a rather large, well lubricated anal plug followed, shoved roughly into place as Joan yelped in pain.  It had three ridges, and the area between the final, fattest ridge and the base of the plug was very thin, allowing Joan’s rectum to close nearly completely around it with the large obstruction inside of her, sealing her anus.

Although she hadn’t before, Joan now felt an intense urge to take a shit, likely due to the mass pushing on her from the inside.  The plug, however, would not budge.

Mission accomplished, Gerald clicked off the lights, and settled into Joan’s comfortable bed with a contented sigh of one who has just completed a hard, but enjoyable day of work.

Just as Gerald was about to fall asleep, Joan thought of the one thing that she thought might, just might convince Gerald to release her and end this hell.

“I love you, Gerald,” she lied, in a completely desperate bid for his strongest emotions.

At first she thought he was wheezing in his sleep, but after a few moments it became clear that he was laughing.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Gerald said, “and by the way, you are not the first woman in your position to tell me that.”

Joan decided that shutting up was probably a good idea.  She was completely and totally stuck.

It was not long before Gerald began snoring.  Joan spent the night pondering her situation as every time she would drift off to sleep, her weight would fall on the strap on her throat, choking her awake, and back into the nightmare.