New short story "SELFIE"!

A big blond isn’t getting the sex she wants from men, so she takes matters into her own hands.  Or does she?

“SELFIE” - Read some for FREE at www.smashwords.com/books/view/443066

The first of a new series, “Tied Together Tales” - each with a twist!

The whole pitiless Asha trilogy is now available, with all its bondage and suffering women:

“Asha has been Taken” - www.smashwords.com/books/view/420206

“Asha was Used” - www.smashwords.com/books/view/431183

and now, “Asha Released” -  www.smashwords.com/books/view/436919

Hope you enjoy it!  As always, comments appreciated!

Kisses,

Slut Tina

I have trouble opening my eyes, still nauseous from being knocked out.  Can’t move arms - under me somewhere.  Head up, on pillow?  Something in mouth, filling it, wrenching my jaw open.  Too open.  Hurts.  

Flickers of light.  A room.  Sounds of men laughing.  In front of my eyes two beige mounds.  Past them two legs, wide spread, then, in the distant darkness, men.

More awake.  Struggle to move.  Can’t.  Arms bound.  Something tight around my forearms.  Ankles, too.  Can’t pull legs together.  

Scared.  Where am I?  My cry for help a thin moaning noise that attracts attention.  Between my bare breasts, I see down over my belly to my crotch.  All naked. Squirming.  

I heave and jerk, plunging up and down on the bed against the pitiless ropes holding me, helpless to stop them, those men gathering at the foot of the bed, talking about my body as if it were meat, something for them to grope and spank and rape and whip.  Something I can’t prevent.  But which, with my head up on this pillow, I have to watch.

A meaty hand surrounding a beer bottle comes closer as I watch.  The bottle’s neck poking painfully at my breasts before sliding down over my belly.  I try to jerk away, to ask them not to, to scream, to plead, to beg, to cry out, to squeal helplessly as the hard glass is shoved into my cunt, further and further, until the wide part hammers my clit.

I scream, keep on screaming, writhing and shaking until I faint.

"Asha was Used" is now out!

My new story, “Asha was Used” is now out!  It continues the story begun in “Asha has been Taken”.  Instructed to meet a strange man - who claimed to know more of the story - in a foreign city, I went.  Only to discover, too late, that he was one of those who had tortured Asha.  

Read some free here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/431183

Or “Asha has been Taken” here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/420206

To the girl hanging by her wrists, naked, denched in sweat, her mouth filled with and clenched on his old socks.

Not so fast, my pet, not so fast.  Let them take their time with your sweet tits, watching your suffering between strokes, laying the blazing pain across a slightly different area each time, until every piece of you chest meat is howling, and you're way past not being able to take it any more. And they do eventually rape you, their hard hands crushing you screaming breasts until you can't breath with the pain.  Then they go back to whipping you.

A hand gathers the wires and tugs.  OOOOOW!

Someone is kissing my ear.  Don’t do that.  Don’t make nice. Just TAKE THOSE THINGS OFF!  A voice whispers again - definitely a woman’s voice - “Do you like having your nippies shocked, Tina?”   NO NO NO NO NO!  “I know.  You don’t.  You hate it, don’t you.  Too bad.  Juan left you with us until tomorrow night.”

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO I try to say, my tongue cramping from pushing on the gag.

There are hands on my face, pulling it back against the chair.  Finding my nose, pinching it shut.   

AIR!  AIR!!  I make desperate mewing sounds through the gag, thrashing against the restraints.  Something wet tickles my ear.  She’s tonguing my ear, and I’m suffocating.  My lungs are burning, my belly spasming as I try to breath.  Immured inside myself, I hear the chair creaking and shuddering on the floor with my contortions.

The fingers let go, and I suck in great gusts of air, my chest rising and falling crazily, which makes those clamps hurt. I’d forgotten about them.  I hear giggles.  “Oooh, yeah.  Let’s do that some more,”  someone says.

Hands with fingers are messing around with my cunt.  More than one hand, because they’re pulling my lips apart, baring my little nub.  

DON’T HIT ME THERE!  PLEEEEEEEEASE!  

The fingers dig into my hole for some juice, then start rubbing.  Gently.  Rhythmically.  The way I like it.  Why do guys never seem to get this right?  It’s so easy.  I’m relaxing, the feeling starting to build.  My breathing getting faster.  The fingers getting faster.  Higher.  Almost, almost, just a little bit more . . .

OOOOOOOOOOW!!  That hurt!  The shock burned my tits like someone put a candle flame to them.  And the nice fingers stopped rubbing.  My legs squeeze against the straps, trying to get some friction, but no luck.  The fingers stretching my lips pull harder, though.  Hey.  HEY.  HEEEEEEYYY!!  THAT HURTS!

Something hard is pushing against my excited little nub, and I heave forward desperately, trying to frog myself on it, forgetting that hard things aren’t usually good.  My whole cunt explodes as the violet wand goes on.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!   STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT PLEEEEEEEEEASE OOOOOOOOOOOW.  My whole being is just that fiery pain between my legs, my body contorting and leaping against the restraints.  Somewhere I hear screams.

If you like this, check out my new book, “Asha has been Taken” and read some for FREE!

www.smashwords.com/books/view/420206

I’m dreaming.   It’s dark, or I’m blindfolded.  I’ve just had an intense session with Juan, where he whipped my breasts for an hour or more with that awful thin plastic whip.  Never too hard, but all over.  My tits are on fire, and my whole slag hole area is sore from cumming.

I’m not dreaming.  Someone has taped over my eyes, and there’s a lot of something wrenching my jaw too far open, tape holding it in.  I’m still tied to the bottomless “chair” where Juan put me.  Arms stretched tight and roped behind, legs folded up over the sides of the chair and strapped in place so my bare feet wiggle behind the chair.  I hear nothing.  Where is he, god dammit?  I start to panic.  “JUAAAAAAAN” I try to scream, but it just comes out as mush. 

Maybe he left me a way out, and he’s watching to see how I do?  My hands grasp and twist furiously, but find no loose ends, no loops, no knots.  My legs heave against the straps, but the leather just digs into my skin viciously.  I’m stuck on this chair.  And the side rails are digging really painfully into my thighs.  This isn’t sexy.  I scream some more.  Silence.

After what seems like a long time, I hear the door open.  The murmur of voices.  More than one.  Uh oh.  What is he up to?  It’s always just been him and me.  That’s the deal.  No sharing my helpless body with his twenty buddies.  (It’s a nice fantasy, but doesn’t work for me in real life.)

I can hear breathing, feel they’re near.  Hands start touching me - and not just in the usual places.  How many of them are there, anyway? They take their time exploring me everywhere but where I want - on my breasts and cunt.  What’s going on?

Suddenly something is tickling my ear, and a voice whispers, “Hold still, fuckhole.”

Hands start massaging my breasts.  Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.  Mouths, too.  Licking.  Sucking.  Getting them nice and wet. I like this.  They know what they’re doing.  My big, dark nubbins begin to throb pleasantly.

A hand squeezes my boob tight, too tight, and I complain through the gag.  Something hard is touching my nipple, settling around it, pushing hard into my softness. Biting down viciously on my swollen skin.

no no.  NO.  NOOOO!!   Take it off.  TAKE IT OFF!

When a second clamp goes on my other nipple, my body goes into survival mode, heaving against the ropes, my legs straining.  I shake my chest what little I can, but it just hurts more. 

Something is brushing my belly.  Something thin and flexible.  

Wires.

(to be continued)

If you like this, check out my new book, “Asha has been Taken” and read some for FREE!

www.smashwords.com/books/view/420206