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The Book of Hostage Tortures

Upon hearing the leaders words, Lucia looked at the cameras like a dear trapped in headlights. She didn't like the sound of plunder. Her face was something she took pride in, and now they decided to attack that. She began to sob. "Daddy...why are you taking so long? Where are you, daddy?!" She cried, putting her hands up to hide her face instinctively. She didn't want to break down like this, but she could no longer act tough. She wanted to go home.
 
Chapter Two: Use of the Mouth

The first thing they forced her into was a kind of pyramid with a hole at the top for her neck. Her body was jammed into the interior space tightly, legs folded, arms pulled in tight, totally immobile but for her head. They tied her red hair back in a loose ponytail. Her face was at about crotch level to just about everyone there.

The leader bent down to look her in the eyes again. "This will be difficult. But you need to serve as an object lesson to your father." He then showed her a kind of vise-like framework, a dental spreader, and with the help of his men holding her head, he forced it into her mouth and behind her teeth. Then it was a simple matter to ratchet it open, forcing her jaws wide.

Leader was the first one to force his thick, hot cock into her mouth, pushing deep. He almost choked her, almost triggered that reflex, but even though he bumped the back of her throat, there was no urge. It was like something was deadened back there, at least for now. Even if she wanted to throw up, she couldn't. Leader gripped her hair in his fists and fucked her face for a few long, agonizing minutes, then pulled out, and she saw his throbbing, purple cockhead close up and he stroked it quickly, finally shooting his scalding seed across her face.

Then the next masked man stepped up, already rigid and stiff out of his pants...
 
The tools they had decided to use on her made her nervous, and she had every reason to be. She felt like an idiot with her mouth wide open. But she didn't know exactly what they'd be doing to her. Would they be shoving food in her mouth? Pulling out her teeth? It was obvious she was quite the virgin because when the leader pulled his prick out for her to see she went as pale as a ghost. She closed her eyes as he thrusted that large thing into her mouth. She wanted to gag but she found herself unable to. She then felt something spray onto her face, and she tasted some of it when it leaked into her mouth. Finally he was done, but only to have someone else take his place...
 
They used her mouth like that much of the morning. When one finished, he would shoot off either down her throat, in her mouth, or on her face; everything else was tightly packed into her box. Occasionally one would give her instructions, such as how to move her tongue, or how to flex her throat; sometimes when she'd comply, they'd shoot faster, and then she'd often be given a larger break. She wondered at some point if they had a time allotment, since she got a longer break the faster she made them cum.

After what seemed like hours, they unlocked her box, and took her out. Her body was still sore from yesterday, and was cramped and nearly immobile after all that time in such a tight position, so she couldn't fight if she wanted to. They took her over to the stocks and locked her head and hands in them, bending her at the waist. When they put the spreader bar on her ankles, just like yesterday, it prevented her from crouching or moving her hips much at all.

Leader knelt in front of her and held up the flogger from yesterday that had raised a great many of the bruises she currently suffered. He reached over the stocks and laid it down on her shoulders, right at the base of her neck. "That's a warning. Don't speak or disobey, or you know what we can do to you." He took out the dental spreader. "Now you know what's involved in a blowjob. You need to work on these guys," he jerked a finger over his shoulder to where another group of men, naked now but for identical ski-masks, were entering, "and do it well, or else not only do you get this again," he held up the dental spreader, "but we revisit some of the lessons of yesterday. The beauty of these stocks is; we can do both at the same time. Do you understand?"
 
After what seemed like ages she had finished all of the men that were currently in the room, and she was glad. She didn't think she could handle anymore of their cum in her mouth or down her throat. Only when they took her out of the current contraption they put her back in another. This signified that she was not finished, and she felt like she was about to cry again. When he took out the flogger she looked up at him, wide eyed. Upon hearing his warning she looked away. "I understand." She said quietly, her jaws sore from the dental spreader.
 
At least she was able to stretch and move her limbs a bit, which helped. But the men, they were still brutal to her, holding her head back by the hair, fucking into her mouth... she no doubt tried to avoid the dental spreader and the beating, so she endured, with difficulty.

There came a point, however, when she was coughing and sobbing, and the man held his own cock up to his belly, and said "Tell you what, you lick and suck my balls, you don't have to suck me deep." He moved his sparsely-furred, pendulous scrotum close to her face, offering her the option.
 
She looked at the mans balls with a bit of desgust, but at this point in time her throat was completely sore from the beating. She started licking the man where he had suggested, her eyes closed since it wasn't exactly eye candy. She hoped that the next man was just as nice because she would rather do this then use her throat any longer. She took one testicle in her mouth and slowly sucked on it. She had been fight the urge not to bite anyone for so long, but she wasn't sure if she could fight any longer if another man threatened her with thrusting his cock in her throat.
 
The guy moaned and stroked himself as she lavished attention on his testicles. Though her lips were sore and starting to swell from their hard usage, she apparently did a good enough job, because he soon moaned and spurted, most of his load falling on her forehead, where there was already ample decoration. By this point in the day, she wore the emissions of possibly dozens of men, anyone who hadn't shot down her throat or into her mouth. She couldn't see herself, but she was sure she probably looked disgusting... unless one was into that kind of thing.

After the man stepped away, Leader called a break. As the men milled about, he knelt next to Lucia and offered her the fighter's water bottle again. "Here. You know, working on those balls was pretty hot. You've been going at it for more than four hours, now; you're more than half-way done. I expect you're getting tired of the deep throat, now that the anti-gagging medication is long, long gone."

"What we're going to do is change up your position again, give those legs a rest, let your upper body move a bit more. But if you want to stay in the new position, you've got to put in some effort. We'll let you control how deep you want to go onto the dicks, so you can avoid the deep throat if you want, but you've got to work to please 'em, and give those balls some loving, really worship those things with your mouth. You do a credible job, you'll continue to have some control in how you have to do your duty. How does that sound?"
 
At this point she didn't really have much of an option. Her legs were pretty tired, and she wanted to stay on their good side. If she didn't she would surely find herself in worse positions than what would be satisfactory to them. She nodded. "I'd like that." Was all she managed to say. She appreciated the water she gave him. It took a little bit of that wierd taste from her mouth.
 
They took her out of the stocks and handcuffed her wrists behind her. They put similar, larger cuffs on her ankles, and made her shuffle over to a place where they had a metal ring mounted in the concrete floor. Kneeling, her wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs were linked by another set of cuffs passed through the ring. Lucia could kneel and sit on her heels or a little bit higher, but she couldn't move from that spot.

Leader came up with a bowl and a washcloth and very gently washed Lucia's face. The cool water wiped away all the spatters and streamers, even off her eyebrows and eyelashes. With her hands cuffed, all she could do was kneels and endure it. He finally got her all cleaned up, and gave her another few sips from the water bottle. "How's this position? Better? You've got more range of movement, so use that to your advantage, okay?"
 
"I'll try my best.." She said quietly, wondering why he was being so nice. Maybe they felt bad for her. It would come of no surprise considering how long they had to torture her. She certainly felt better in the cuffs, but by no means would she make more of an effort than she had to. She was on camera, she had to look like they were forcing her to do this. Taking things upon herself would make her look like a slut. She already sacrificed her pride, but she would give no more.
 
"Good," he said and stood, unzipping his jeans and taking out his length again, which was quickly stiffening. "Then you'd best get to work."

He enjoyed her efforts with his hand resting casually on her head, not forcing her but reminding her he could take control any time he wanted. He even eased his balls out of his jeans for her attention. When he finally felt ready to shoot, he had her open her mouth and look up at him. His seed covered her outstretched tongue, and he expected her to swallow it.

The afternoon consisted of second-timers, those that could get it up again (a few couldn't, or didn't want to). Nobody rammed into the back of her throat, they pretty much just let her do the work, and they liked the feel of her face sliding along the sides of their shafts, her mouth cupping them or their balls. They were just pretty appreciative. And when they weren't, when she wasn't working hard enough for their taste, Leader would amble up behind an swing the flogger through the air, close enough she could feel the breeze on her back.
 
Taking matters into her own hands was tiring. Her jaws were still sore from the face pounding even though she had gotten a break. She knew that she'd get in trouble but she pulled away from the mans cock and started lapping at it instead of full blown sucking on it. Her mouth needed a long rest before it would be back to normal. Hopefully her eight hours would be up before she'd get yelled at again. Otherwise, she was sure that she'd be punished again, especially if they tried to face fuck her again.
 
Apparently the licking worked, provided she was giving the appearance of being a hard worker. Whether or not she enjoyed it wasn't the point; the point was, she was putting out the effort to please the men with her mouth, under pain of more whipping. And whether that was deep-throating, sucking, licking, or ball worship, it didn't matter as long as every cock presented to her went away satisfied.

Finally, they called an end to the festivities. She was left chained, kneeling, in the middle of the floor while everybody broke down the set, wheeling out the props and taking the actors away, just kneeling feeling somewhat swollen with all the cum she'd been forced to swallow and coated with the afternoon's deposits on her face and breasts. They even left her alone in that position for a while, there in the solitude of her curtained space, naked and soiled, chained to the floor.

Finally, some man came back to get her. He set her food and water bowls aside, next to her cage, then crossed to her, unlocking her from the floor and freeing her ankles. He didn't free her wrists until she was already bent over, her head into the cage, ready to crawl in for the night. Once she was securely locked down, he gave her her meal. The plastic yoga mat had been removed at some point, probably as insurance of her continued good behavior.

Later, Leader returned with her mat and a couple of pills. "Asprin," he said, as he passed everything into the cage to her, "you'll need it. Get some rest." He turned away before his smiled showed in his voice. He was the only person talking to her like a human being; it was only a matter of time before she came to think of him positively, even though he was orchestrating her tortures. And then, oh, the things he could do. He almost hoped Daddy Dear wouldn't be able to come up with the money, he was looking forward to it. He'd heard the man was having troubles, he wondered if they would interfere with his logical progression. Time would tell.
 
She was puzzled as to the reason why he was being so nice to her. She had always blamed him in the beginning, hating his guts. But the hate was slowly fading, and being replaced by hopes. Perhaps he wasn't so bad. Maybe none of this was his fault in the long run. However, she still didn't know how long she could be a good girl for these people, and so she wouldn't hold her breath. She took the asprin, did some personal buisness that involved relieving herself and then went to sleep. This time she did not pray she'd be saved. She had no more hope that her father would save her.
 
Morning came once again with light and the usual clunk. Lucia's whipping wounds were better, but still sore, and her entire mouth felt swollen and achy. Once again, the men filed in with their masks and their equipment. The leader came over and handed her the mouthwash. He said nothing, just gave her the liquid and turned away.

There was more unrecognizable equipment, but the stocks were back. Lucia could probably guess the theme of today, but the less time spent on anticipation, the better. The fire hose and the garden hose were laid out again, with the same implied choice to behave or not.
 
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