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Loretta's Lamentable Life



Loretta was breaking a sweat as she jogged on the treadmill. Her hands were shackled to the bar and it was turned up as fast it would go. This was a part of her daily routine and she was in excellent shape, even though Morgan made sure to tell her often what a fat pig she was. There was a screen in front of her that showed a greatest hits of her most degrading experiences. Today was from the period when Morgan had been pet sitting for a few friends. They’d had a lovely time enjoying Prague or Tuscany while Fido was squirting cum on Loretta’s face.

A dog had just emptied its balls into Loretta’s throat when the video cut to a German girl who kept crying “Bitte! Bitte!” at the masked man who was whipping her tits. It was a taste of things to come.

Morgan cut the power to the treadmill and it whirred to a stop. Loretta nearly collaped from exhaustion. Long chrome bars with indentations for her neck and wrists were clamped to her sweating body.

“Stick out your tongue!” Morgan barked.

Her pink tongue shot out on command and its gold stud sparkled. Morgan unfastened it a replaced it with a large gold ring. Its diameter was larger than the stud’s and made her piercing bleed. He passed his finger through it and used it to lead her to the living room. Once there she saw the instrument of her day’s torment. A steel Spanish Donkey sat in the center of the room and a small rope hung from a loop in the ceiling. He pulled her over the device, forcing her to straddle it. The surface of it was sheet metal that had been bent to 90 degrees. The bend was a crisp crease that was now inches from her labia. The metal had been slathered with Crisco to prevent her from getting any sort of grip. He pushed her knees from behind and her thighs made a wet “Slap!” onto the cold metal. He pulled her ankles up and clicked them into the leg irons behind her. Even though the metal corner was biting into the soft flesh of her asshole and cunt it was such a relief to be off her feet that she thought she might pass out. Her head was bobbing, nearing unconsciousness when Morgan’s belt made a loud “Crack!” across the small of her back.

“Sit up straight, cunt!” Morgan yelled.

She was bolt upright when Morgan grabbed her tongue ring and tied it off to rope hanging from the ceiling. He was busy texting while she tried to find a position that was tolerable. It took an enormous effort to keep the loop from tearing out of her tongue. While she writhed in discomfort she heard the click of Morgan’s phone taking her picture. He was smiling and clearly sending her picture to someone and she worried what he was up to.

Not long after Morgan’s phone started vibrating incessantly and he was texting like a fiend. Loretta couldn’t know that he placed a Backpage ad that said simply “Come over and jerk off on my wife right now” and his phone number. Morgan and Loretta weren’t married, of course, but he liked the way it sounded. Twenty minutes after the phone started buzzing the doorbell rang. She heard murmuring in the hall and soon Morgan appeared with a strange man. He was slackjawed at the sight of her and he only said “Daaaaaamn...” quietly.

“Here’s the rules,” Morgan said tersely. “Pinch her nipples slap her tits around, just don’t move her too much or it will rip her tongue out.”

Loretta was terrified at the idea of this stranger tearing her tongue in half.

“What’s her safe word?” The stranger asked.

“There’s no fucking safe word!” Morgan laughed. “She’s done when I say she’s done.”

The stranger pulled out his cock and jerked off furiously while he pawed her tits. He hadn’t been at it long when his cock erupted in long stringy loops of cum. They landed on her stomach like strudel icing and shivered before wiping the last of his cum on her thigh. He fastened his pants while making a beeline for the door. On the way out he looked back at Morgan and said “You’re fucked up, man.”

“You’re welcome, asshole. Don’t come back.” Morgan showed him the baseball bat he had to keep the visitors in line.

The doorbell was ringing more frequently now and the parade of curious perverts became a steady stream. Loretta lost count of the men who had abused her tits and emptied their balls on her torso.

One was a college frat boy who twisted her whole tit as if he was making a balloon animal. He kept calling her “dumbass” and spitting in her face. Another was a mechanic in filthy work clothes. One grimy hand pulled his dirty cock while a finger and black-edged fingernail burrowed into her asshole which was already sore from the Spanish Donkey.

One avuncular-looking bookworm asked “May I write on her?” to which Morgan of course agreed. Shortly after carefully lettering “Whore” on her forehead he squirted his load into her navel.

At one point a couple arrived and the woman, clad in a little, black dress, was giddy with fascination as she jerked her well-dressed companion to climax. For Loretta, this one was the worst because of the woman’s cruel commentary.

“Oh my God,” she jeered. “What a pig! Can you imagine how disgusting she feels? No wonder it says ‘WHORE’ on her forehead!” Like the others, her companion spewed thick wads of spunk onto Loretta’s nude body although this time the woman got some of it on her hand. She pulled a tissue from her purse, wiped it off and said “Ew, gross!” She flicked the wadded tissue onto Loretta’s coating of cold slime where it stuck to her tit.

The last of the visitors was a trio of rednecks who had come into the city for street prostitutes.

The apparent leader of the group said “We was here looking for whores until Joe seen this on the interwebs.”

All at once their coarse hands were on her, pulling her nipples and grabbing her tits. By this time her chest was completely covered in cum and they kept wiping their hands on Loretta’s hair.

“This is fuckin’ gross,” said one of them. “Nice jugs, though.”

One after the other they shot their share of cum onto the rivers that now crept down her stomach and back and ran down her legs. When they had all shaken off the last shivers of orgasm the leader asked “Is it okay if I piss on her?”

“Only if it’s on her face,” Morgan laughed.

Morgan slid three dining room chairs over for them to stand on. “Try not to get it on the furniture,” Morgan added.

Each hillbilly climbed onto a chair and all three managed neat arcs that landed on Loretta’s face. Unable to fully close her mouth, urine inevitably ran down the back of her throat. She knew there would be consequences for vomiting and was glad she hadn’t eaten for a couple of days.

When they had finished Morgan said, “Okay, guys. Party’s over.”

The three did up their pants and shuffled out and had a great story to tell back home.

Morgan walked slow circles around her and spoke, “Look at you. You’re disgusting. First you were a cum Target and now you’re a fucking urinal. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He unlocked her ankle cuffs and her legs dropped nto the floor. He untied the string from the ceiling but left it tied to the ring in her tongue. The loop was so big that she couldn’t pull her tognue into her mouth, making her feel and look like a retard. She heard the familiar slaps of his belt being drawn out of his pants loops and braced herself.

CRACK! The belt landed across the small of her back, leaving a mark that would later turn black and blue.

“Stand up!” Morgan barked.

Loretta struggled to stand, straddling the Spanish Donkey. Her legs shook and her crotch was on fire. As blood rushed back to her cunt and asshole it was more painful than where she had been sitting. Tears steamed down her face.

CRACK! The belt struck again, this time on her upper back.

“Step forward!” Morgan commanded.

Loretta hobbled forward, her feet making a squishing sound as she walked. There was a layer of plastic covered by a layer of towels that was now soaked with semen and urine.

“You really are fucking repulsive,” Morgan observed, removing the tongue ring. “Get into the corner.”

She walked, legs shaking, into the corner of the room where a big, cast-iron cock was bolted to the intersection of the two walls. It was at the height of her mouth and had leather straps with a buckle dangling from its base. She waited with her lips almost touching the metal penis and waited.

“You can put your mouth on it now, whore.” Morgan said.

Loretta opened her mouth and slid it over the cold knob and shaft. Morgan buckled the straps behind her head and the taste of metal filled her mouth. Morgan locked her wrists into cuffs connected by a chain to the floor and as a final insult propped his phone on the iron dildo and played the video he had shot of her ordeal.

“The cum on you should be dried and crusty by the time the video’s over,” Morgan sneered. After that you can carry the towels to the washer in your teeth. We’ll see how fast you can do it before I decide whether you deserve a shower.”

Morgan walked out of the room and shut off the light.

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