The Handmaid's Tale

Everything written below is merely fantasy. Moreover, I certainly don't actually want to bring all of it to life. But if someone is found who will help me realize some of these fantasies—I will be glad. Write...

and it will become clear to what extent one can morally destroy a young woman and, without encountering resistance from her, perform all sorts of nastiness and perversions on her, torment her, commit boundless violence against her body and morality.

They said that I would spend the next week in the company of lovely pervert-rapists, that they received ten thousand dollars for me, and, of course, asked me not to let them down. Now they

Today I put on my most expensive stockings of a soft flesh tone, thin as cobwebs, pleasant to the touch. A man, touching them, should come immediately. A white lace garter belt—very narrow, emphasizing my wasp waist, a white, batiste, transparent chemise. I wasn't wearing any underwear. On my feet, high boots up to the knee and a short soft fur coat, so short that if you bend over slightly, the top of the stockings is immediately visible. What can I do, my owners ordered me to dress like this. It's 0 degrees outside, and I'm practically naked. Who cares about my female health?

I went outside and immediately felt my clean-shaven pubic area sting. Resigned to the inevitable, I ran to the bus stop. My tormentors didn't choose this time of day for nothing. Rush hour. With a feeling of slight panic, I catch the interested glances of the crowd gathered at the stop. Of course, just a whore. Unexpectedly, I felt my vaginal lips moisten.

— You're a whore," I said to myself, "already wet. God, what have they done to me! What shame!

I notice three guys standing nearby, and then I hear the obscenities they are quietly saying about me. Probably, they'll grope me in the crush. My vagina moistens even more. A bitch is a bitch, a broken, morally degraded, perverted individual.

They push me onto the bus. I see that trio has positioned themselves behind me and there are already timid attempts to lift my fur coat. It doesn't take much effort, and now at least two hands are on my thighs. One is groping over the stockings, the other has already discovered my bottom without panties. They've already started groping me in earnest. God, they've unhooked the stockings from the garters, and they're hanging at my knees, fingers are going into my anus and vagina, going in unceremoniously and cruelly. They pinch my labia with all their might, and it takes a lot of effort for me not to squeal in pain. The guys are literally tormenting my insides, grabbing a handful of my labia and shoving three, four fingers into my anus. I'm in a lot of pain and feel hurt. To these feelings is added a sense of shame and slave-like hopelessness. On top of everything, I'm flowing like a bitch in heat. That's it, I start to cry silently, little by little. At that moment, someone pinched my clitoris in a particularly painful way, and I whimpered. They turned me to face them.

— Stop crying, whore, — a menacing whisper sounded in my ear. — And unbutton your coat.

— I'm so ashamed, — I whispered, starting on the first button.

A chuckle was heard, and immediately someone shoved a hand into the resulting opening and grabbed my large, firm, size-five tit. Generally, without false modesty, I should note that I have a figure like a model's and a very pretty face, but my breasts are way outside the classic parameters. So imagine, a beautiful girl stands squeezed in front of three guys and is sobbing uncontrollably, her coat is open, and her completely uncovered breasts are being brutally squeezed by male fingers. They painfully squeeze the silky skin, twist my nipples.

This continues until the stop.

— Guys, I need to get off at the next one, — I mumbled. — Maybe you could see me off.

— Of course, bitch.

It hit me like a blow, but what can you say against the truth.

— Please, button up my coat and hook up my stockings, otherwise how will I go. Especially since in the place where I'm expected, they pay a lot of attention to the appearance of a slut.

Here I whimpered again. I stood completely helpless and submissive to any fate.

— Are you a masochist?

— Yes, — I whispered. — A sex slave. You know how they abuse me!

— But you like it when you're fucked in all holes?

— I do. But still, when it hurts, it's real pain.

— You should think! Okay, we'll dress you and see you to the place. And there you'll entertain us some more. Agreed?

— Yes, — I said with resignation in my voice.

While walking to the house I needed, I calmed down. I was used to violence against myself, and I roughly guessed what would happen in a few minutes. We called the elevator and, naturally, went to the last, twelfth, floor. As soon as the four of us entered the cabin, the guys pounced on me. Again, my coat was unbuttoned and thrown on the floor. Four hands dug into my sharp, goat-like breasts, another two began to torment my crotch. Fingers poked into my anus, tormented my lips and clitoris. I stood indifferent, and then began to breathe noisily, pretending to be aroused, which, by the way, wasn't far from the truth. In fact, I was flowing abundantly. When my unexpected tormentors realized this, they were surprised.

— What a masochist, — one of them said with feeling, painfully pinching my nipple and twisting it.

— Does it hurt? Answer!

— It hurts, a lot, — I started wailing. — Spare my body, I beg you.

These words acted on them like a red rag to a bull. The elevator stopped, and I was thrown out onto the landing. I fell and hit my knees and elbows. The stockings tore. I collapsed on my side. Then they roughly picked me up and forced me to take off my stockings and boots. I was left completely naked. They started taking out their erect members. I leaned against the wall, but they grabbed my breasts and dragged me to the stairs leading to the attic. The door turned out to be open, and they pushed me inside. I fell again on the dirty floor. They stood over me with their already exposed members.

— Get up, bitch, — they roared terrifyingly in unison.

I fussed and got up on all fours. They opened my mouth with their hands and, almost tearing my full, sensual lips, shoved a huge cock into my mouth. It immediately began pounding my throat.

Everyone immediately calmed down. They continued to grope me, trying to cause pain. After five minutes I was already choking, but suddenly a powerful stream splashed into my throat and I started swallowing it because I had no other choice. The spent owner of the first cock was immediately replaced by another, and again my throat was stuffed to capacity. At this time, the one who had come was wiping his dirty cock on my gorgeous, freshly washed hair.

— Cum on her face, Serge. Do you want cum on your pretty face?

I nodded and immediately received a full load of viscous fluid in my nose, on my cheeks, in my eyes. I had to suck the cum through my nose and swallow it. They noticed this and guffawed. For some reason, I felt unbearably ashamed, and I started crying out loud.

— Shut up, bitch, or you'll get it!

I continued to cry, smearing tears and cum on my face. Suddenly, through the haze, I noticed some quick movement. And immediately felt a powerful blow to my stomach. They were kicking me. I gasped from the pain, my legs gave way, and I fell. They kicked me a few more times, then, grabbing my hair, jerked me into the humiliating doggy-style position.

— You have to suck and suck, got it, not cry. You're a cocksucker, a bitch.

A man about forty years old in a light jacket stood in the doorway with a trash can in his hands. I, by the way, had already managed to jump out of the elevator. A silent scene lasted for about a minute. A beautiful naked girl with disheveled hair, traces of cum on her face and body, and a man whose initially stunned gaze began to fill with frank lust.

— What happened?

— I was raped, beaten, my clothes were taken, — I started babbling. — Please help me.

— How can I help you, girl, — he said sympathetically, already raping me with his eyes.

— I don't know.

— Okay, come to my apartment, and we'll see.

I had no choice but to follow him. Already in the hallway, he, as if by accident, brushed his hand against my tits and, not feeling any resistance, turned sharply to me.

— Listen, dear, what will you pay for my help?

— With my body, — it tumbled out of me.

— So you're a little slut, not a victim. Probably fucked the guys of your own free will.

— Well, basically, that's how it was. I'm a masochist, and you can do whatever you want with me. I'll repay you for your kindness, just don't throw me out on the street like this.

— So you like it when they hurt you.

— Basically, yes.

— Oh, and I like to deliver pleasure through pain, you little bitch! I've been waiting for one like you for a long time!

— I agree to everything, just please don't maim me.

— By the way, how did you end up here?

— I was sold for a week to sadists living in this building. And I'm already supposed to be with them.

— It's okay, they can wait a night.

— But my owners received money from them for me.

— That means it's worse for you. And training with torture will only do you good

I hung my head and meekly nodded.

For variety in today's day, the master forced me to wash myself thoroughly in front of him, of course, in such a way that I turned my shameful lips inside out. Then he gave me a five-liter enema, humiliating me to tears. He sneered, watching as water gushed from my anus.

He decided to feed me from a bowl, and I, naked, lapped up some porridge while he at the same time fucked me in the ass. Have you ever tried to eat while being fucked in the ass quite unceremoniously? My tears dripped into the bowl. Without letting me straighten up, the master turned me towards him and unloaded all over my face. He pulled out a drawer with cutlery, laid me on my back, sat on my stomach, and ordered me to lift and hold my legs wide apart. Placing the drawer somewhere between my legs, he began poking around in my vagina with forks and knives, pinched my large labia with nutcrackers, shoved a bottle opener, a corkscrew, a rolling pin into my anus. He shoved the rolling pin very far, and it seemed to me it would pierce my insides. This was only the prelude to the main action. What awaited me could only be seen in nightmares, but I survived it and will now describe everything he did to me, how he abused and humiliated a young masochist. He led me into the torture room. Hooks were embedded all over the space of the room, on the ceiling, walls, floor. Everywhere lay coils of rope, barbed wire, clothespins, mousetraps, vices, and clamps.

— Pray, bitch, — the master said ominously. — Let's start with your whorish tits.

The master pulled out a white tube of cream from somewhere and smeared my nipples. Literally a minute later, I felt a sharp burning sensation, and before my eyes, my nipples began to harden until they turned into two cylinders filled with insane desire. During the hardening process, they stretched the skin of my breasts even more, and the feeling of lust mixed with a feeling of severe pain. An amazing combination! My tormentor took a thin cord and tied off my nipples. Here I lost consciousness. I came to from the pain. I felt that I was already hanging above the floor, and my legs, suspended from the ceiling, were widely stretched apart. Just now, the man was piercing another nipple with a ring to hang a two-hundred-gram weight on it. One nipple already had its load. I again drifted off into a delirium of hard-to-bear pain. Once more, when I opened my eyes and looked at my breasts, I saw a curtain of cords with weights, about fifty grams each, that went around my long-suffering breasts. Now, probably a kilogram of iron was hanging on each tit, counting the load on the nipples. Torment stood in my eyes. After he finished with the ropes and weights, he took a handful of clothespins and...

I came to when the tormentor moved to my crotch. The entire surface of the bluish-burgundy spheres of my breasts was covered with clothespins. How he managed to clamp two dozen clothespins on skin stretched to the limit remained a mystery to me. There were even two on each nipple. It seemed my shame was awaiting the same ordeal. Only by the touches and flashes of pain did I understand what he was doing, rummaging in my vagina. He pulled out sections of my large labia with pliers and tied them off with cord. Then he proceeded to the small ones and the clitoris. God, he tied my clitoris so tightly that, to my greatest shame, I flowed abundantly and pissed myself. Then he arranged a hedgehog of clothespins in my crotch, completing the execution.

If I said that the parts of the body that distinguish a woman from a man were brutally painful, it would mean saying

nothing. To top it off, this sadist stuck clothespins on my lips, ears, nose, and clamped my tongue with two. And then... Then he took a video camera and started filming. I was sobbing with my last strength. While he was filming, he managed to whip me with a whip, hitting my buttocks and stomach, breasts and crotch. I mooed and roared. After half an hour, he began freeing my organs, starting with my pussy. He fiddled for another half hour, ultimately leaving the ropes on my breasts.

— Well, how did you like it, sweetie, — he addressed me, lying lifelessly on the floor.

— Yes, master, very much, only my tits hurt.

— Hurt, you say. Want me to make you such tits that you'll get stuck in doorways? But, in general, they're normal, good working material. Here's what I thought. We need to stretch out your labia so they hang somewhere between your thighs. What do you say? Agreed.

— Even if I don't agree, can I really object to you, master? If you want, then do whatever you want with my body, — I hated myself for these words and, while speaking, cried.

— Why are you crying? — he inquired.

— I'm just a whore, — I said. — A bitch—a masochist. My body no longer...

— ... belongs to you, — he finished. — Correct.

He unexpectedly kicked me in the stomach, and when I bent over, he walked around behind me and struck me hard right in the crotch with his sharp shoe.

— Come on, open your cunt.

I obeyed. He brought the shoe to my pussy and shoved the toe inside.

— Get on the shoe, bitch, and make it reach all the way to the womb. When it does, tell me.__P_