Marie woke slowly to scratchy, wet carpet against her cheek, her wrists pulled behind her, bound to either ankle. Naked. While still nervous, Marie's anxiety was tempered by the fact that her husband often liked to play these games. He enjoyed sharing her with other men, and even though she willingly indulged in his fantasies, he liked to add to her discomfort by sedating her first. She would wake up, not sure where she was or who was about to use her. Sometimes she'd regain consciousness to a cock already savaging her asshole, or the salty taste of cum already present in her mouth. Other times it was the dreaded cane that roused her, crashing against her ass or tits, her scream barely managing to drown out the raucous laughter surrounding her. Fortunately, today was not one of those times. Judging by the quiet, she was alone. For now.
She surveyed her surroundings as best she could from her position on the floor. Her bindings didn't allow her much range of motion, but she could see enough to know where she was. In reality, the smell alone gave away her location, seeing only confirmed it. The odor was overpowering, sour, and impossible to describe, yet easily recognized: her husband's hockey bag had the same smell. Wooden benches lined the walls, piles of clothes atop them every few feet, nearly-empty hockey bags on the floor beside them. Her husband had often joked (although she had come to learn that he was very rarely joking) about bringing her into the locker room as a reward for his team after a victory. Sometimes, when she had displeased him, or he was just feeling particularly cruel, he threatened to leave her there after a loss and let the men take out their frustrations on her.
In front of her, she could see the tiled floor that must lead to the shower. The carpet was bad enough; wet, cold, with a terrible smell all its own, but she was at least grateful she had been left here instead of on the shower floor. She couldn't see the locker room door, and while she didn't know the specific layout of these locker rooms, she knew her husband well enough to know that the door would be directly behind her. He wanted her ass and pussy on display to everyone as soon as they walked in.
Inches away from her face sat a disgusting pair of underwear that, at one time, had probably been white but were now a dingy yellow, discolored by sweat and piss. She was sure the placement had been intentional. Marie was trying to wriggle her body away from them as best she could when she heard voices. They were getting louder, but clearly weren't in the room with her. It was hard to tell, but she thought they sounded happy. If she was going to be fucked by multiple men (and she had no illusions about her fate today) she supposed it would be easier for her if the team had just won their game. The voices crescendoed as they approached, and just when she thought the door would swing open on her naked form, they began getting softer. Farther away, she heard a door slam shut.
Minutes passed. She wasn’t impatient to be beaten or roughly fucked, but knowing that it was coming regardless, she’d prefer to get things started earlier. Otherwise, the anticipation and fear simply added to her anxiety. Though her husband liked his sedatives, he always chose a small enough dose that she would be fully conscious and alert for whatever games he had planned for her. After a short wait, she heard another group of voices. These didn't seem nearly excited. As they drew closer, she picked up enough to gather they had not only lost but were very obviously still frustrated about it. She hoped that these voices would also continue past her door. They didn’t. Their complaints grew louder as the door swung open, and then silence. She heard the shuffling of feet as they crowded through the door, the steps piling in close around her, just out of vision. Then she heard the telltale click as someone locked the door behind her.
“What the hell is this?”
“A little pick-me-up after a disappointing loss, gentleman.” A deep voice, one Marie thought she had heard before, but couldn’t quite place where.
The chorus rose behind her, one voice blending into another, snippets of conversation dancing in and out of reach through her consciousness.
“How did she- “
“-left her in here?”
“Nice tits on her- “
“Wouldn’t mind getting a piece- “
“Better wear two- “
Marie wasn’t quite certain what all was said; she was very sure what hadn’t been. She had listened for the voice of reason, someone to question whether this was a good idea. No such voice existed. Several had questioned who she was or how she had wound up bound naked on their locker room floor, but that was as far as their curiosity took them. Past that, they knew what she was there for.
“You all know number 63, right?” That same deep voice again, giving way to a cacophony of others.
“Slashed my stick in two, that- “
“Hit me from behind- “
“Running up the score- “
“-ran our goalie.”
“Clearly, he needs no introduction, so let me just introduce Marie.” She could hear the smugness in his voice, the theatrical rapist drawing in his audience before dropping the surprise twist. “His wife, Marie.”
Marie still couldn’t see more than a couple pairs of skates in her peripheral vision, but she could feel the mood turn. Their lust was palpable, her pussy and ass tingling from the heat of their stares, but above even that, she could sense their anger. Finally, the voice she had been waiting for, though lacking in conviction and seemingly in need of convincing himself. “I know that guy’s a dick, but I don’t know that means we ought to rape his wife. I’m not going to jail over some beer league rivalry.”
Marie hadn’t heard anyone move closer, so it came as a complete shock when she felt three fingers thrust roughly inside her. “Tell me,” that same damn voice again, “does that look like a woman about to be raped? She’s practically dripping off my hand. Tell them, whore! Tell them why you’re here!”
“D-d-daddy put me here.”
“Daddy, huh?” A new voice this time, nasally, his words slurred slightly. “There ain’t no daddy here. It’s just you and thirteen guys your daddy went and pissed off. Now why don’t you tell us, nice and loud so everyone can hear, why daddy tied you up and left your slutty ass in our locker room?”
“He wants you to use me,” she whispered into the carpet.
“What was that?” Another voice, this one punctuated with a hard slap across her ass cheek.
Louder this time. “He wants you to use me.”
“Use you? Use you how? As a coffee table?” Someone set a beer down on her ass, the can tipping, the freezing liquid sluicing down between her ass cheeks and across her pussy before puddling on the ground beneath her. The joke hadn’t been particularly funny, but the team reveled in her humiliation anyways, laughing heartily as she shivered against the cold brew. “You ain’t any good at that. So how are we supposed to use you?”
“He wants you to r-rape me.” The words caught in her throat, but everyone heard them this time.
She felt, rather than saw, someone crouch down next to her. A voice in her ear, “And what do you want, little whore?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I want what daddy wants. I want you to…please don’t make me say it.” She thought they might leave it at that until she felt the blade of a hockey stick land against her right ass cheek. “Oh please no.” Another slap of the stick, this time on the other ass cheek. “Okay, okay, just please stop!” Again, this time connecting across both cheeks hard enough to lift her several inches off the ground. “RAPE ME! I want you to rape me.”
Almost immediately, a pair of gloves landed next to her face, a rancid smell like soggy Doritos emanating from them. “That’s good enough for me.” A heavyset man sat down by her head, his legs splayed to either side of her. “You’ve got thirty seconds before I stick this up your tight little ass. I’d make ‘em count.” On the street, the first thing Marie would’ve noticed about him was the way his gut hung down over his beltline. That is also probably the last thing she would’ve noticed, her attention quickly passing over him, unworthy of her attention. Here, naked and bound just inches away from his groin, she couldn’t help but marvel at the size of his cock. Still flaccid, he had to be at least 8 inches long and thick as a baby’s arm. Remembering where he threatened to put it in less than half a minute, she crawled forward, shuffling her legs one at a time to try to cover the last few inches between them.
Impatient, he grabbed her roughly around the jaw, pulling her across the floor and dropping her down face-first on his cock. Without the use of her arms to brace herself, his cock lodged at the entrance to her throat, her tongue lapping at the last two inches still outside her mouth. He quickly began to stiffen in her mouth, and she struggled to breathe around him. Still, bound as she was, any attempts to rock backwards off his cock ended with gravity pulling her right back down. “Come on, bitch, you can hold your breath for 30 seconds.” At that, she felt one of his hands settle heavily across the back of her head, forcing her farther down, his cock slipping further into her throat. She spasmed around him and then, panicking, she tried screaming. Nothing emerged from her overly-stuffed mouth. Certainly nothing that would’ve been heard over the satisfied groan of the man currently fucking her face, as her screams had merely managed to provide a pleasant vibration in addition to the warm embrace of her throat.
Finally, he pulled her from his groin, his hand wrapped through his hair, feeling like he was trying to pull it from her scalp. “Might’ve lost track of time there, slut. Why didn’t you tell me your thirty seconds were up?” Marie was still gasping for breath, her throat too sore to answer even if she had registered his words. With his free hand, he slapped her twice across the face before standing, dropping her facedown against his sweaty feet. He wiggled his toes under her, two of them popping into her mouth. She turned her head, spitting at the terrible taste. “You may regret that, cunt. Someone get ready to shut her up.”
He disappeared behind her as another man sat down in front of her. This one, thankfully, had a much smaller cock, which he wasted no time shoving in her mouth. Seconds later, a cock tore through her still-dry asshole, her saliva the only lubricant as he thrust bodily into her. Marie thrashed and screamed, briefly wrenching free of the cock in her mouth. Her voice pitiful, she tried to plead with the man savagely fucking her ass before rough hands grabbed her by her ears and pulled her back down on the cock in front of her.
The man behind her gripped her hips to drive himself fully into her, settling into a rapid pace which the man in front of her gladly met. They timed their thrusts together, so at times it felt like she was in danger of being folded in half between the two. The pain in her ass had lessened but was coupled by an equally violent assault on her face. Fortunately, this man just managed to poke at the entrance to her throat on his deepest thrusts.
Marie barely noticed the man behind her pulling out of her ass, or the trickle of cum dripping from her abused hole, for the man in front of her had now taken up a near-frantic pace, slamming her face down repeatedly against his pelvic bone.
“Hey, go a little easy, buddy. You can fuck all the way through her forehead and that little thing ain’t gonna reach her throat.” Despite herself, despite all the humiliation and abuse she was already suffering and what she suspected was still to come, she laughed. Just a short chuckle, completely buried by the sound of her face-fucking, but one look up into the man’s eyes told her he had noticed. He pulled her up by her throat, slapping her hard across the face before dropping her back down and shoving his cock up her already-sore asshole. Driving with his legs, she scooted forward on each powerful thrust, sliding her face painfully across the floor.
Another man sat down in front of her, picked her up, and placed her, almost gently, down on his cock. This one wasn’t as thick as the first one, but as he rapidly hardened in her mouth, she was both impressed and scared to find that it was even longer. Her mouth slipped a little farther down his cock with each brutal thrust from behind, but aside from that, the man in her mouth seemed quite content to just let her sit with his cock in her mouth. After her ass-fucker’s exit, his warm cum flooding her bowels, she felt a hand at the back of her neck. He wasn’t pressing down. Not yet. “I’d get to work, cunt. You don’t breathe again until I cum.” At that, he brought his full force down on the back of her head, driving his cock all the way into her. Her throat bulged obscenely as her face was now buried against his sweaty groin. She hadn’t been ready for him, and she gagged violently around the intrusion, her whole body wracked with spasms as she tried to shake free of his grip.
She quickly grew light-headed; he hadn’t allowed her a full breath before choking off her air with his massive cock. It took all her effort to fight back the panic threatening to overwhelm her and begin working her tongue up and down his shaft. She stuck her tongue out, lapping ineffectually at the balls now pressed against her chin. Marie prided herself on being a reputable cocksucker, having frequent practice with her husband’s friends and clients, but despite her best efforts, she was having trouble getting him off. Her vision started graying out around the edges, the room swimming in front of her, and she feared that she was going to die with this stranger’s sweaty cock buried in her throat. She struggled against him, her balled fists beating weakly against his thighs before he ripped her head off him. At the same moment, another thick cock was thrust violently up her ass. Her lungs burning, Marie was too focused on drawing in air to scream at the intrusion.
She barely registered a voice coming from somewhere above her, “No, no, no, sweetie. We want you awake for this. You don’t get off that easy.” Again, she was shoved back down on the cock standing proudly before her face. As the men inside of her settled into a rhythm, she felt other hands on her body, reaching under her to cup her full breasts and roughly pinch her rubbery nipples, hands slapping her ass, several fingers shoved in her pussy.
The man in her mouth began bucking his hips up towards her, simultaneously pushing her head down farther in to her groin, smashing her nose against into his sweaty pubes, his balls slapping against her chin. “You better swallow all of this, bitch. Don’t you even think about spitting it out.” Her body burned from the constant abuse, and Marie had no intention of doing anything to further increase their torturous use of her body, but the choice was taken away from her as he held her head down while his cock erupted, shooting thick ropes of cum down her throat. He pulled out slightly, shooting the last two streaks against the inside of her mouth. Marie wretched violently as he pulled out of her, inhaling cum as she struggled to fill her body with oxygen. She coughed out a thick wad of cum on the floor, her face being slid through it by the rough ass-fucking she was still receiving.
Eventually, the constant stream of cocks inside her, the torrents of cum flooding her stomach and bowels, covering her face and hair, the leering and mocking voices all blended together. Marie wasn’t sure if she was being fucked repeatedly by one man or by hundreds. She knew that at least some of them had used her twice, as she had been forced to deepthroat cocks tasting of cum and a bitter coppery taste she recognized as the flavor of her own ass. Still, when it was over, she cried tears of relief that, for the first time in what felt like hours, no one was touching her, no one was fucking her, and no one was beating her. The room came back into focus as she gradually regained her breath. Still bound wrist to ankle, Marie was unable to lift her head far off the floor, but she could see pairs of feet in her peripheral vision, hear them slowly packing up their hockey equipment. Behind her, she heard a cooler open and beers passed out from it.
Looking back between her legs, she saw a pair of feet appear behind her. The right foot lashed out, connecting with her ass cheek. The kick wasn’t painful, but she still shrieked, fearful that they were ready to continue their abuse of her body. A pair of knees appeared as the legs behind her kneeled down, a pair of rough, calloused hands gripping her ass cheeks and spreading them apart. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes. “Please. No more. I can’t take it.”
“What do you think, boys? Me, personally, I think she can take quite a bit more.” She felt a finger probing around her asshole, spreading the cum leaking out of her across her ass. One finger became two, then three, then four as he slid them easily into her gaping hole. “Hmmm. Maybe you’re right, cunt. This hole is far too blown out to fuck.” Marie erupted in a litany of gratitude at his mercy. Several of the men were now standing around her, staring at her. Their faces, previously frozen in rictuses of lust and anger, now showed only disgust. She couldn’t even imagine what she looked like now. She could feel cum leaking out of her. She knew she must be covered in bruises. Her makeup, whorish in nature but expertly applied, would be a mess, smeared across her face by cum, spit, tears, and whatever throat bile they had fucked out of her mouth. One of the men finished his beer and flipped the empty can towards her, hitting her in the head before rolling away.
That same man drew another beer from the cooler, kneeling in front of her. Marie ignored the mischievous glint in his eyes, staring hungrily at the unopened beer. Despite the seeming gallon of cum she had swallowed, her mouth and throat felt cotton dry and rubbed raw from the repeated facefucking. She wanted nothing more than to wash the disgusting taste out of her mouth, an amalgam of ball sweat, cum, and the distinct flavor of asshole. He tipped the can upside down, poking a hole in it with his knife. With a wave of his arm, strong hands gripped both of her arms, lifting her up into the air, her face staring down at their feet, her raw, leaking asshole in the air.
Confusion swam across her face until she felt the cold aluminum further stretching her abused asshole. She heard the tab open and then felt the freezing liquid flooding her bowels. She shivered violently as the team bellowed their raucous laughter, high-fiving each other. After the can was empty, the men flipped her back over, still holding her in the air. She could feel the beer reverse course, gravity pulling it back out of her. It welled up briefly behind the can still inserted in her asshole before popping it free, puddling underneath her. The beer had been a dark amber color; now it was tinted by the thick torrents of cum that were washing out of her with it. Someone cut the bindings around her wrists and ankles, her feet slamming down into the ground beneath her, splashing in the disgusting mixture that was still dripping out of her.
Shoved back down on her knees, her arms were wrenched behind her, her elbows wrapped tightly in hockey tape. In this position, her tits were thrust prominently out in front of her where someone was tying them up tightly using the laces removed from his skates. From her new positions, she was able to see much more of the locker room. She realized that several of the players must have left already, as only six of them remained. Five were standing around her, a sixth sitting on the bench in the corner, staring at her. “Looks like the showers broken, slut. No hot water left.” Though she stared at him through cum-crusted eyes, his blurred visage, along with that deep voice, finally sparked her memory. He had been at her house frequently, and her at his house. Her Daddy and him were friends; his own sub was named Melanie, she thought. His name was…Paul. Maybe. They two men would often play games with the two of them, forcing them to punish each other, pleasure each other, in all manners serve the two men.
“You know who I am now, don’t you, cunt?” He stood up, walking slowly towards her, his cock swinging limply, but still larger and more threatening than any of his teammates, in front of her face. He spit on her face. Not wanting to anger him further, Marie tried to take him in her mouth, crawling forward awkwardly on her knees. Just as she managed to wrap her lips around the tip of his cock, his hand connected with her cheek, rocketing her head to the side and nearly knocking her over. She sat back up, staring up at him before his other hand came down against her other cheek, this time knocking her over completely. She struggled to get back on her knees unsuccessfully, several of the men spitting at her as she tried. Finally, two pairs of arms reached underneath her arms, pulling her up, her shoulders stretching painfully as they gripped her upper arms and pulled her to her knees. They deposited her in front of Paul again, his cock stiffening slightly in front of her. He began slapping her, alternating hands, rocketing her face back and forth as he increased his force with each blow. She tried to recover as best she could between each strike, knowing that if she tried to hide from him or avoid his blows, it would only increase his wrath. Marie also knew, unfortunately, that he wasn’t going to stop hitting her until she was crying, trying to avoid him. Pretty soon, each slap was hard enough to almost knock her to the floor, causing stars to shoot across her vision.
One particularly brutal slap spun her around, her forehead slamming against the ground, her neck wrenching painfully. She stayed down, her face resting in the cum-sticky puddle of beer. Disgusted, Marie still found it preferable to his abuse. She tried to stem the flow of tears and catch her breath, willing herself to stand back up before he hurt her again. She couldn’t, as his foot connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling across the floor. Two men picked her back up, setting her back in front of Paul. She couldn’t meet his eyes, hanging her head in defeat before him. Fingers beneath her chin pulled her face up. Paul was now standing facing away from her, his hairy ass looming large in front of her face. He stepped backwards, her nose pressed between his sweaty ass cheeks. She tried to crawl backwards away from him on her knees, but his hands clamped down on her nipples, rolling them into hard little buttons and pulling her back forwards into him. Her face was now buried in his ass. The smell was terrible, sweaty ass and ball funk invading her nose.
“Well?” he asked, pulling on her nipples, drawing her farther into him. “I told you the shower’s broke. That means you’ve got some work to do.” His left hand remained, pulling on her now distended nipple, his right hand striking her breast painfully, the nerve endings enflamed by the tight tit bondage. “Don’t act like you’ve never tasted ass before.” Hands pressed forward against the back of her head, her lips now pressed against Paul’s asshole as he began mercilessly beating her breasts. She tentatively pressed her tongue forward, revolted at the sour taste on her tongue, but determined to stop the abuse of her now tender breasts. As his abuse continued, alternating between slapping her breasts and pulling violently at her nipples, she worked her tongue in and around his disgusting rosebud.
Finally, when it felt like he was going to tear her breasts right off her chest, he let go and stepped away from her. Turning around, his now stiff cock bobbed up and down in front of her, before he swung his hips, slapping her across the face with it. He did this three times before settling back down on the bench, exhorting his remaining teammates to avail themselves of her tongue as a replacement for the shower. The next man grabbed her face, spinning her body around and pulling her into his equally sweaty ass. Fortunately, this man was more interested in her humiliation than her pain, allowing her to lick him clean without the constant abuse of her breasts. Before the second man had even moved away, a third grabbed her by her hair and whipped her around, pulling her towards one of the benches. He shoved her into it, her arms pinioned painfully underneath her as she was pushed over backwards against the bench, her feet braced out in front of her, trying to relieve the pain in her arms and shoulders.
He began slapping her, across her face, across her now painfully-tender breasts, across her stomach and thighs. He seemed determined to not only match, but far outstrip the abuse Paul had inflicted on her. If she had known anyone else in the room other than Paul, she might’ve suspected this man held a personal grudge against her. He had locked one of her breasts in a tight grip, fingernails digging into the soft flesh painfully. The look in his eyes scared her more than the pain he was inflicting on her, though. He looked like he wanted to rip her breast right off her chest, and the pain searing her enflamed nerve endings suggested he might succeed. He balled his other hand into a fist and began striking it against her other breast.
She struggled to get away from him, but he drove his knees into her shoulders, pinning her back against the bench. His cock was mere inches away from her face, and realization dawned on Marie as she understood where his anger was coming from. This was the poorly-endowed man that had drawn the mockery of some of his teammates; the man that had caught her laughing, briefly, at one of their jokes.
“Nothing funny to say now, huh, cunt?” He drove his fist into her stomach, doubling her over. “Am I man enough for you now?” A solid kick to her ribs knocked her onto her side, staring up at him. He pulled her up by her hair only to punch her in the face, knocking her backwards, her head striking the bench painfully. He pulled her up by the throat so that her head was flat against the bench. Her neck ached as her body was splayed out awkwardly in front of her. As he turned around, lowering his ass onto her face, she wriggled away from him, sliding off the bench and landing on the floor. Furious, he once again picked her up using a handful of her hair, pulling at it roughly as he drove his fist into her face. Strands of her hair came away in his hand as she felt her nose break, her head slamming back down against the ground.
This time, there was nowhere left for her to go as he sat down on top of her. He buried her in his sweaty ass cheeks and, when she didn’t start tonguing him fast enough for his liking, he began bouncing his weight up and down on her, repeatedly smacking her head back against the ground. A dull ache quickly formed in the back of her skull, and she stuck her tongue out into the sweaty hole in front of her. He stopped bouncing on her, thankfully, but had now settled down fully over her face, preventing her from breathing. Not content with just having her rim him, he began slapping her between the legs and pinching at her clit. She screamed, harder and harder as the pain intensified, but buried beneath his considerable bulk, it was unlikely that anyone could hear her.
She was still screaming when he lifted himself off her. Laughing, he moved away from her as she rolled over and vomited on the floor. Only cum came out. It clung to her face in thick globs, some of it congealing in the gelatinous mess of beer, sperm, and spit that was now covering much of the floor. Four more of the men had packed up and left. Only two remained: Paul and the poorly-endowed sadist. The latter eyed her hungrily, his cock spent but his anger still unabated. He stepped towards her, swinging his jock strap menacingly. For the first time that night, Marie’s rage matched theirs, boiling over before she could stop herself.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, you small-dicked fuck.” He swung the jock strap at her, the cup bouncing angrily off her head. “You’d better get down on your knees and suck my husband off when you’re through, because he’s the only reason I’d ever even look at you.” Again, this time across her shoulder blades as she tried to stand. “You think any woman would ever want you? With that pathetic macaroni-cock you have?” He struck her again and again, lashing her breasts and stomach repeatedly. It hurt, but she was far too angry to care.
“You think I care what some stupid slut thinks? After I just watched you get fucked by an entire hockey team? You wanna act all high and mighty now, like thirty seconds ago your tongue wasn’t buried up my asshole, huh?” He was swinging blindly now, hitting her across the face, the back, the breasts, several wild attempts missing completely and striking the wall or his own legs. He didn’t care. Neither did she.
“Yeah, that’s right, your entire hockey team had me, which means you better believe it when I say that every single one of them had you beat. Length and girth.”
“SHUT UP, WHORE.” Paul laughed silently to himself as his friend now focused all his attention on beating her about the face with his jock strap. Her left eye was beginning to swell, and she felt like he had split both of her lips open. The pain was overwhelming, and she curled into a ball as best she could, her arms still taped tightly behind her. Paul finally grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-swing. He whispered something in the man’s ear, took the jock strap from him, and leaned down over her.
He surveyed her face dispassionately. “You do talk a lot, you know? I’ve got something for that, though.” Marie looked up through half-closed, tear-strewn eyes at his cock, dangling above her. She moved to take him in her mouth, but he pushed her away. “I think you’ve had about enough of that, don’t you?” He separated the cup and jock strap, pushing the sweaty garment into her mouth. She retched at the taste, but he plunged in farther, his fingers pushing the material into the back of her mouth. She tried to spit it out once he removed his fingers, but he held the cup over her nose and mouth, wrapping it tightly to her head with a roll of hockey tape. He let her fall in the puddle beneath her, soaking her in booze and a mix of bodily fluids.
Sadist stood up, holding a broken hockey stick in his hand. Marie began sobbing, she wasn’t sure how much more abuse she could take. As he approached her, she noticed that he had wrapped the broken end in hockey tape, creating a thick, bulbous end where the blade should’ve been. He dragged this end across the floor, soaking it in cum and stale beer before rubbing it across her face. He poked her violently with it, aiming for her eyes. Marie could tell she was going to have one hell of a black eye, possibly two, when she woke up the next day. Twice more he smeared the disgusting mixture over her; Marie shutting her eyes to avoid it. That left her with no warning as he roughly thrust the bulbous end of the stick in her still sore and gaping asshole, plunging it deep inside of her. She screamed around her makeshift gag as one of them used the stick to push her across the floor several inches.
“Yeah, mop up that floor, you disgusting cunt.” Both men laughed heartily at this before finally sitting back down. For a minute, Marie could hear nothing. She remained hyper-vigilant, waiting for the next attack. She broke down in pitiful sobs as she finally heard them getting dressed and packing their equipment back into their hockey bags. One of them flipped another empty beer can at her, bouncing it off the back of her head, before she felt two warm streams drenching her hair, splashing across her back, and running down her face. Even over the foul-smelling gag, she could smell it: their urine puddling beneath her. Finally, the door opened, and they left.
Thankful to be rid of her abusers, Marie’s relief eventually shifted to worry. For one, she hadn’t heard the door close behind them. It had been a late hockey game, so the rink wouldn’t have many people left, but any one of them could walk by and find her like this. After fifteen minutes of waiting and worrying about who might find her, she realized with even greater terror that she might be stuck like that all night. What if everyone had left for the night? Would she be stuck here, covered in cum, smelling of piss, a broken hockey stick rising obscenely from her ass? Panic soon set in, and her body began thrashing wildly about, trying to free herself, before she felt a hand on her back. The touch was gentle, calming, and she quieted beneath it. She heard a snipping sound and felt the tape around her face being unwrapped, the foul cup falling from her face as she worked to spit out the jock strap still stuffed in her mouth.
Someone was wriggling the hockey stick and, while this new sensation wasn’t painful, it was more than a little uncomfortable. She heard a familiar laugh before it was pulled from her rectum. Marie craned her neck to see her rescuer, a smile spreading across her swollen lips as she saw her husband kneeling next to her. “Did you have a good time tonight, pet?”
“Of course, I did. I want what Daddy wants. I always want to make you happy.”
“So, you enjoyed yourself?” She smiled, nodding vigorously. “Good.” For several minutes, Marie sat with her head in her husband’s lap. He stroked her hair lovingly, seemingly oblivious to the mess of fluids caked in it. Eventually, she allowed herself to be guided to his waiting cock, taking it into her mouth.
She sucked him slowly, lovingly. She heard his phone click on, a video playing. It was the sound of her begging, before several loud slaps filled the air. He stiffened even further in her mouth, reveling in her abuse. She knew that perhaps nothing made her husband harder than having her suffer for him and, for the final time that night, she allowed a rough hand to hold her in place while a hard cock was shoved down her throat. This time; however, Marie welcomed the rough treatment. Between the video of her savage rape and her eager ministrations, he felt his orgasm building quickly. He pulled out just enough to flood her mouth with his cum. She swallowed it all down dutifully, laying her head down in his lap, his softly deflating cock still resting in her mouth. “Hank ooo, Addy,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome, pet.”
