Wren

She'd been giving blowjobs to Brad's friends who sat on the couch and waited their turns. Luther had his hands in her hair and was serious for the moment. Her wrist shackles had been taken off and today was the first day in awhile when she'd been allowed to play fetch or have anyone in her cunt.

Having her cunt filled this morning, in her shed, was extraordinary. She hadn't been told she could come but it didn't matter. She screamed because it felt so good.

Brad was off somewhere in the house with Laura. He'd joked about putting Laura in her shed and she'd taken it badly. Scott and Doer liked the idea.

Luther rubbed her ear after coming. She wanted prick in her cunt, her stick, something and was almost ready to beg for it.

"Luther, take me home," Laura said.

She looked up from Luther's lap. Laura stood by the couch with her arms crossed. Brad was still in back somewhere.

Doer elbowed Luther. "Give the girl a ride. She asked for it." Doer pinched her nose. "Over here, lil doggie."

"Just a second," Luther said, stuffing his limp meat back into his jeans. "I need to talk to her first."

"Right now, Luther."

"Back here." Luther stood and took her arm. "I'll take you home in a minute, Laura."

Luther walked her on her knees, arm held over her head. In the kitchen Brad was at the table reading a comic and ignoring them. Luther said, "I offered a hundred."

"Her name, Luther, is dog shit. And if you had it in cash I'd have taken it." Brad turned the page.

She wondered what was going on.

"I just wanted you to know."

"Luther. I'm waiting," Laura shouted.

Luther gave her a look, let go of her arm and a minute later she heard the front door shut.

"Go on back, dog shit."

Someone had turned on the TV. "Go play with yourself," Doer said.

"Fetch," Scott said. "Should she have the manacles back on?"

"Probably."

She knelt holding up her arms. Scott locked the shackles on her wrists.

"Shit, let's go in the kitchen." Doer got up from the couch.

"I wanted to be left alone," Brad said.

"We noticed," Doer said, "but the bitch needs to be whipped."

"What's on TV?" Brad stood.

"The usual shit."

Doer grabbed the wrist chain and pulled her up. "Over here, sweet stuff. Help me, Scott."

Scott held her as Doer looped the chain through the ceiling hook. Her toes could just touch the floor as the shackles bit into her wrists.

Brad handed a beer to Scott and they both drank and watched as Doer whipped her with his belt.

"You can come when he's done, dog shit. We expect a good show," Brad said.

She watched them as she was whipped, between blows and flinches and through tears. She wondered what would have happened to her if he'd called her something else. What his name for Laura would be if she came back.

She was glad she'd never left.

When Doer was finished, reaching for a beer handed him by Brad, she came. The first time was what she did to herself, the others came on their own, a rolling succession as if floodgates had been opened. When she was aware again, Doer was holding her up as he fucked her, his grinning face inches from hers, his prick delicious to her cunt. She bucked and swung in his hands.

Someone knocked on the front door; Brad said he'd get it. "My turn next," Scott said. Doer grunted and thrust.

She was swinging from her wrists when she woke. Doer was sitting at the table finishing his beer. Brad was talking to two strangers, dressed all in black, shirts with mother of pearl buttons. Scott put down his beer.

"I need some help," he said.

"You can do it yourself," Doer said. He leaned his chair back on two feet so far it slipped. He caught himself and leaned forward.

"I need help," Scott said.

One of the strangers came up to them, gripped her chin and turned her face sharply to the left, to the right. He lifted her lip. "All her teeth?"

"All her teeth," Brad said.

"It's my turn next," Scott said. "I need help getting her down."

The stranger felt her breasts, stuck a finger up her cunt and sniffed it, smiling he offered it to her. She cleaned his finger.

"What's she eat?" he asked, turning her around.

"Dog food. Jism for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

He felt her ass, spread her cheeks, fucked her ass with his finger. "I like a girl that eats three square a day." He offered her his finger and she licked it clean. "Why the chains? She runs away?"

"Chains seemed appropriate," Brad said.

"Here," the stranger said, lifting her. Scott unhooked the chain from the ceiling.

"She's never run. Likes it here. Don't you, dog shit? Show the nice man how much you like it here."

She came in his arms thumping his chest with her chin and knocking his head with an elbow.

"Whoa, filly. Steady there." The stranger set her feet solidly on the floor. "Let's see her in action."

Scott pushed her across the kitchen table, slapped her ass hard several times and fucked her cunt. The chain for her wrists was under her stomach and rolled as she moved across it.

"Just you three?" the stranger asked.

"She's been in the back yard doing anybody who shows up."

"Neighborly."

Brad laughed. "Right neighborly."

"May I?"

"She's all yours."

Scott grunted, thrust deep and stilled. She felt his full weight on her back.

"The way I got her," Brad was telling the other stranger, "this salesman came to the filling station where I work."

"Turn her over," the stranger by her said.

She lay on her back on the table, her head hanging off.

"You want any, Mike?"

"Later."

"He said she'd been left in his car, naked, drunk, well-fucked and sleeping. He tried her out and decided to keep her."

"Fucking chains."

"Want us to take them off?" Brad asked.

"No, leave them on if she's used to them." The stranger held his prick in her face. "Open wide and keep it open."

His prick hit the back of her throat and entered. She tried to swallow. He did this again and again, not stopping if she gagged. "Who tattooed her?"

"Someone else."

"Nice work." He thrust more rapidly, his groin hitting her face. He pulled out as he came, letting the come cover her chin, lips and nose.

"She talk?"

"She's mouthy. I told her to shut up."

"Where're her clothes?"

"She came to me like that, she's leaving like that."

"No problem. Fifty was it? Plus the deposit."

"A hundred all told."

"Give it to him, Mike." The stranger jerked on her chains. "Go wait by the front door."

Brad was pocketing the money as she crawled from the kitchen. She waited by the door as they talked and laughed in the kitchen.

The room was almost bare. A couch, a TV, a table but no lamp. The only light was from a fixture over head. The wood floor badly needed to be waxed. She remembered how it had tasted the first time. Her stick lay against the wall.

She couldn't believe he was doing this to her. She couldn't believe he'd sit there and let everything go, just so he'd be able to read his comics alone. If someone liked him he'd manage to piss them off so they'd leave. Her he'd had to work a little harder. She shut her eyes and tried to pretend the darkness was her shed. They came into the living room.

"Back by Monday morning," the stranger said.

"Or you'll lose the deposit."

"What's her name again?"

"Dog shit."

"That's a stupid name. Girl, we're taking you to Austin where you'll be the center attraction at a convention this weekend. Policemen from all over wanting to shoot their wad for a few pesos. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" He pulled her to her feet. "Stay with us or else."

She was between them when she left the house. She tried to look over her shoulder but was jabbed in the back, pressing her on.

They told her at the car to lie down in the back seat. Getting in she managed to see the house briefly. The door was shut, a light on in the window and the glow of the TV screen.

The car pulled away and Mike said to the stranger, "You believe that shit about the salesman?"

"You believe he let us take her for a hundred dollars?"

"Can you see his face Monday?"

"He's not expecting us back," the stranger said.

"So he's not entirely stupid. Pull over somewhere so I can try her out."

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