Deviance Becomes Her Read online

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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cartagena, a few years past:

  The woman had come to them by way of answering an ad in the sex trade newsletter freely handed out on street corners in Cartagena. She came as a newly divorced Columbian woman who wanted to venture out into the world of BDSM, who wanted to ‘play’, and was looking for a good Dom. She was tricked from the beginning.

  Carlos, who had placed the ad, appeared to be nice enough and truly cared about pleasing this woman in her forties.

  They had agreed to meet in a little bar off a main street and discuss how to ‘play the game’ since she was relatively new to bondage. When she walked into the dimly lit bar, he knew instantly it had to be her from their earlier conversation on the phone. She had a hungry look, curvy figure, long, slightly fizzed black hair, and a fairly attractive face. She wore a short, low cut red dress that revealed her obvious fake tits and black high heels to show off her long, lithe legs. She spotted him at the bar and sat down next to him.

  He told her they could play this out in a safe and trusting way, and that he had done this many times before. She believed his story and felt a connection of confidence with him.

  He bought her a drink and ‘got to know her better’, while slipping a little bit of a drug into her martini when she left for the bathroom for a few minutes. She was the perfect woman for his requirements: single, no kids, and no close family members.

  After she finished her drink, she leaned heavily on his arm as though drunk. By the time he helped walk her to the car and got her settled in the passenger seat, she was in a very relaxed state. He drove her directly to his home.

  Once he had her in his power, he brought in his gang of four compadres. Conrad, staying at a posh hotel on vacation who knew Carlos well, was also given a call to come join in the fun. This scene that was about to be played out was exactly the reason he came to Cartagena.

  Conrad visited Cartagena a few times a year, indulging in the various extreme sex clubs, and the more decadent the better. He ran into Carlos one night during a visit to one particularly violent club, and they got to know one another at the bar over a few drinks. Carlos promised to have him join in the next time he put one of his ‘extraordinary scenarios’ together; therefore, they kept in touch.

  Conrad arrived at the modest home with a basement, which had been converted into a gloomy, brick-walled dungeon. No one in the family neighborhood was the wiser at the sinister activities that played out at least once a month.

  Conrad quickly descended the stairway to the dungeon and came to find the restrained woman wearing only a tiny red g-string, a black satin blindfold, and a black ball gag strapped around her head. One leg was pulled up high by her ankle, opening her whole pelvic area.

  She appeared to be quite aroused by her feelings of submission as she was standing there, writhing a little in anticipation of the party getting started. With that ball gag in place, she could only moan, causing Conrad’s cock to begin a subtle throb.

  Carlos handed him a black hood. He slipped on the black, heavy-duty vinyl hood that was adorned with sharp metal spikes and shiny metal studs with a zip-open mouth and adjusted the fit with the back laces. He joined the other hooded men who were standing around quietly watching the woman.

  These men were cruel, amateur film makers, and were not formally introduced to Conrad. They barely spoke to each other unless it was in low whispers.

  The woman knew there were more men than Carlos, as she heard them arrive and speak in low voices. She wanted the men to touch her, fuck her; she craved it. Her entire pelvic area was in an extremely agitated sexual state. She was looking forward to this adventure. Nevertheless, the woman had fallen into a snake pit.

  She was breathing heavily around the ball gag; a silver string of saliva dripped from her open mouth. Her sheer g-string was soggy from her wetness. Not being able to see due to the blindfold, she moaned quite a bit and trembled as she was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Her arms raised as they were, lifted her large, dark-nippled breasts, which were quaking in her growing anxiety.

  Carlos let the other men watch as he yanked off the damp g-string with a quick jerk and began to stroke her open furred pussy with the end of his whip. She moaned and thrust forward as far as she could as the handle rub deliciously on her clit. The men could see her inner pussy lips flare out, liquid slowly dripped down one thigh.

  This woman was into it.

  Carlos proceeded to fuck her with the whip handle. That didn’t feel so good, and the woman started to whine and writhe in anguish…trying in vain to pull away. He pulled the handle out and replaced it with his thick veined cock. The suspended woman was guided, back and forth, onto Carlos’s dick; she liked that much better.

  The men all took their turns fucking her that way; Conrad, too, had his pleasure in the ‘too wet’ pussy. Nevertheless, he did not mind, as he wanted her tight ass.

  With all of them naked, it allowed Conrad to see the other men’s cocks and realized his was in the minority here. Of course, his fat belly did nothing to enhance his modest member. I'll give this bitch what she wants though, no mistaking that! He had thought wickedly to himself.

  Carlos attached a couple of alligator nipple clamps with a firm grip on her tits, making her yelp in surprised pain. He got out his cat-o-nine tails and began to flog her. The woman jumped and moaned with each lash making her clamped tits bounce. She loved it. Every so often, a man would approach and finger her pussy, firmly pinch her clit and run their dicks over her wet slit, making her thrust her hips in anguished desire.

  A man dropped down in front of her and stuck his tongue out from the zippered mouth opening in his hood. He waggled his tongue towards her glistening open labia. Not being able to see, she jumped when his hands touched her as he spread her pussy lips even wider while his tongue darted out to repeatedly tap her clit.

  She thrust her hips towards him as he held the fleshy lips open and ran his tongue up and down her swollen tissues, causing her to groan deep in her throat, her body to stiffen. He relentlessly lashed at her marble-hard clitoris; sucking, nipping, pulling, and pinching. She finally threw her head back and screamed behind the gag…he pinched her clit hard as the throes of her orgasm hit her.

  A jet of liquid shot out, drenching the man’s black vinyl face. She pulled on her restraints as her body jerked about in ecstasy. His tongue fought to keep lapping up her juices as he held her hips steadfastly, trying to prevent her from twisting this way and that. She finally went limp and hung there, breathing hard as the man slipped away.

  One man was always nearby with the video camera, up close and personal. They took their turns with the camera, as well with the cat-o-nine tails, lashing across her belly, tits, her back, pussy, and ass. Angry red welts were beginning to appear on her flesh. At one point, Carlos came up behind her and rammed a slick dildo up her backside, making her scream out in pain.

  That scream of pain changed everything.

  Finally, the exhausted woman was lowered and left to lie on the cold stone floor. She did not like that much at all. What happened to the safe word and the trust she and Carlos had talked about? She worried as she lay on the floor shivering.

  The gag and blindfold were removed; she was startled at the sight of the men in full hoods. However, she smiled and lay back, spreading her thighs further apart, urging them to come forward.

  Moving in silently, the men took turns inserting their thick dicks into her bruised mouth to let her suck and lick, or holding her legs wide while one of them fucked her pussy. After about twenty minutes of that activity she was hurting and getting dreadfully tired. This was not what she expected and she wanted to go home. She had envisioned light play only with Carlos; not that this experience was bad, but she was weary.

  Conrad managed to get his wish and fucked her in the ass, slapping her hard leaving several reddened handprints on her ass cheeks. He loved hearing her scream out in pain, which only made his dick even harder.

&nbs
p; He gripped her hair, pulling her head back as he pumped her ass, nearly exhausting himself, until he came in a shudder and grunting like a hog. He slapped her hard one last time on the butt leaving the beginnings of an ugly purple bruise on her tender flesh.

  * * *

  In the interim, Carlos had started a small fire in the fireplace against the wall. He could not wait to inflict such pain on this woman. He lived for this type of punishment. He had done it several times over the years.

  This woman meant nothing to him, nothing but a plaything to torture. Carlos used to belong to one of the largest drug cartels in Cartagena, and he used torture to get information out of citizens who betrayed them or men who worked for a rival cartel.

  He was well known for his handiwork; however, he had slipped back into society with a new identity. He knew there could come a day when he was ultimately discovered and subsequently murdered, so he lived for the moment, doing what he loved best.

  She would soon be very sorry she ever answered that ad in the newspaper. Carlos added more and more kindling until he had a nice little blaze. He pulled an iron brand from the corner. The woman’s eyes grew large.

  A man suddenly appeared from the shadows with a garrote, which the woman could not see. Conrad was shifting his eyes from faceless man to faceless man; something in the air had changed. The man nearby with the small video camera zeroed in on the action about to begin.

  Carlos was turning the glowing brand over and over getting it red-hot. The woman was trying to scramble to her feet, knowing what was coming her way. Nevertheless, the men grabbed her and held her face down, grasping a handful of her long frizzy hair. She was pinned.

  Carlos was ready, and the woman lay screaming and tried frantically to get away, while one man diddled her pussy from behind as he sat squarely on her back facing her ass. Her legs convulsively opened wide, giving him more access, even though she thrashed and humped her ass up and down to try and buck him off. The tickling fingers made her throbbing clit want to cum again, need to cum again, while her fright only intensified her excitement. The camera zoomed in.

  Finally, she became still, and groaned gutturally; her pussy came hard once more, flooding more jets of liquid as her orgasm shot through her. She had never been this aroused in her life. The insistent fingers tickled and rubbed while becoming saturated from her hot juices.

  She collapsed face down, spent, and that’s when Carlos moved in and pressed the radiant end of the brand into her tanned ass cheek, leaving an ugly red burn in the shape of an X.

  On contact, harsh screams tore from her throat until she tired; cried in exhausted rasping gasps. She could not flail as the men still held her down. While she cried quietly, they turned her over and spread her thighs wide to watch her cunt contract and twitch from the pain and fright. They touched and probed the soaking wetness, not caring that she was in distress. The cameraman got every bit of the deviant footage.

  Watching that hot brand burn into her lovely but bruised ass cheek while she screamed for mercy, drove Conrad a little insane. The naked, black hooded men who held her down, as their erect cocks waved in excitement as she screamed, thrilled him to no end.

  Conrad was astounded. He did not participate, but he was rooted in place! Every cell in his fat body was alive with a lust he’d never felt before. He thought he might keel over from the intense stimulation. He sat down on the floor near them and could not believe what happened next.

  * * *

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Snapping back to the present, his piggy eyes coming back into focus, Conrad grinned…leering at Pam as she shuddered. She was now fully awake and fear had taken over. She started to scream. In a flash, Conrad climbed over her body and clamped a rough hand over her mouth; his hot breath hit her smack in the face as he said, “I love to hear you scream, but it hurts my ears right now…just shut the fuck up or I’ll get the gag. Hear me?”

  She nodded with wide eyes. He removed his hand and grinned again. Pam wanted to pass out and not have to deal with what she knew was going to happen.

  “It’s all about the pussy tonight, baby,” he said stroking her face with his curved finger. “We have all the time in the world. I need to keep you in good shape, at least until we get close to our destination.” It was around two in the morning, but the coke lines Conrad had snorted assured he would be up all night!

  Pam had no idea what he was talking about but she just kept quiet. She knew she was on his boat, but where they were headed she had no clue or why. She felt she was finally coming out of this horrible drugged haze. She could not have been out for more than a few hours it seemed.

  It had to be about six last evening when she knew he drugged her. Everything from that point on was a blur. She could see from the porthole it was very dark outside. She was hungry and her arm muscles were screaming for freedom.

  * * *

  Conrad was busy down there…between her legs again. Actually, what he was doing felt rather nice…she shifted her hips and spread her thighs even wider.

  “Yep, it’s all about the pussy tonight…how’s that feel, huh?” He rubbed and massaged her inner lips making them swell with moisture. He was treating her exceptionally nice, pleasuring her. If he kept this up all the time, maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad…if this was a trip. And for what purpose? Why am I here? Her mind whirled with possibilities.

  “Oooohhhh,” she let out a long moan as he ran his flat, wide tongue all the way up, then all the way down, savoring every inch of her pussy. “Yeah, oh yeah.…” she moaned lustily, forgetting all about her discomforts. She was going to cum! His tongue started deliciously swirling around her tender clit, intermittently landing directly on it, pinching softly with his lips. His fat finger dipped just inside the entrance of her vagina to play, tickling…sending waves of passionate pleasure down to her curling toes.

  This guy knows his way around a pussy, she mused as she slipped into a tranquil state, just let it go, she willed herself. That fat tongue doing those nasty things to her…OH! That did it. She locked her gaze to the top of his balding head and her jaw hung relaxed. She grunted and let the hot liquid jet from her hole as her hips ground in orgasmic joy.

  Conrad kept her thighs wide apart, groaning in lust as he watched the clear liquid spurt in an arc from her clasping pussy. He quickly licked and slurped, loving her sweet flavor. Pam completely calmed down and slipped away into another light slumber; remnants of the drug still swam around in her system.

  Conrad let her be and went to check the console and make sure they were still on track to round Haiti. He took a few moments to stare up at the stars, which looked like a billion diamonds spilled across a solid black floor. His thoughts once again raced back through time to that incredible night in Cartagena where he found himself stunned at what he was about to witness.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Columbian woman lay on her back on the floor, legs spread wide, while the men gathered about her, poking and probing her gaping wet slit. She was trying to scream, but her throat was too raw, so all she could do was gasp harshly. The men’s fingers pulled at her full, rounded tits, pinching the clamps even harder, actually making her bleed in their fierceness. These men were no longer civilized.

  A piece of furniture, similar to a large coffee table, was pushed near the woman and they lifted her onto it. Her legs hung down over one end and her head hung off the other. A man grabbed and spread her legs, slipping his dick into her slippery cunt. He pumped as hard as he could, causing her body to jerk. Her tits bounced back and forth, back and forth, as he thrust deeply into her.

  Two men pulled her arms over her head and out to the side, lifting her upper torso off the table so she could see the man plunging into her. She grinned lustily and spread her legs even wider if that were possible. Conrad knew she was slipping into madness; singsong moans escaped her bruised lips as Carlos recorded it all.

  The man with the garrote was creeping closer behind her. Conrad held
his breath; he knew what was about to happen.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Back on the Paper Tiger, early morning found Conrad starting the coffeemaker and thinking about breakfast. He decided he had better fix Pam a plate. She was probably starving. She had slept the rest of the night, although he was higher than a kite. He’d replaced her leather cuffs with regular metal handcuffs and only on her left hand.

  He first ran to check the rotary course selector. All was well. He would have to man the boat for a while then set the autopilot back on when he was ready for her. Having that autopilot installed was like having a first mate that never got tired.

  Yawning hugely, as the long night was catching up to him, he thought he might need to take a little nap if he wanted to play hard today. Last night was all about her, as he didn’t want to rough her up too much the first time around.

  However, he figured, out here on the sea, time really did not matter; you ate when you were hungry, slept when you were tired, and fucked when you wanted. What better life than that? The IRS would soon be a distant memory.

  * * *

  Pam woke to extreme thirst, and her eyes had trouble focusing. She was still bound to the headboard and unable to move well...but at least her right hand was free. Her body ached to stretch and turn. She didn’t know what time it was or how long she had been out. One thing she did know: her pussy hurt. She looked up to see Conrad entering the room. He carried the small wood tray in both hands and found Pam awake, trying to shake off the handcuffs he had attached to the bedpost.

  “Good morning…hungry?”

  “Starving. Smells good. What time is it?” she asked sniffing the air.

  “Eggs and bacon, all MRE.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

  “What’s that mean?” She scooted over to make room for the tray.