My Mentor - Part 8
I could hear that there were others behind me. from the sounds I could tell they were laughing, talking, opening coolers and pouring themselves drinks. They sounded like all men, at a party, instead of what I assume were Masters in training, being trained by my Master.



I could hear them, but I couldn’t see them. He’d lead me in my slave’s hood, bind and gagged, hands still tied behind my back, and still completely naked, to a farther corner of the warehouse. He took the hood off of me and ran His strong hands over my eyes and cheeks, pushing my hair back and watching as my eyes adjusted. I smiled a little as I looked at Him and began to focus. He rubbed my jaw and said, “Speak. Tell Me you’re my dirty little whore.”



“I’m your dirty little whore, Sir.” I could feel how stiff my jaw had become having been opened around that mouthpiece for so long. He had that old duffle bag on the floor, opened. I could see duct tape. And He had a bottle of water.



As He poured some into my mouth he said, “I let you cum. I made you cum. Hard.”



“Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.” I lapped at the water and swallowed what I could, thirsty and hungry. He pulled my long hair up onto the top of my head and pulled a rubber band off of His wrist. He made a ponytail there, Pebbles Flintstone style.



“It’s our turn now, to cum. My advice to you is not to struggle.” He put the bottle down and picked up a length of garden hose. He put it into my mouth and pushed it into my throat. I gagged.



He gripped the back of my head tightly with one hand without removing the hose. “I won’t tell you again. My advice is not to struggle. But it’s your choice. You’re going to have a very long and difficult night ahead of you if you struggle. Now relax your throat.”



Once He had the hose as far down as He wanted it, He picked up the duct tape, and He quickly and carefully began ripping off pieces and placing them over my mouth, wrapping them around the back of my head. Layer after layer, tight and restricting. I was scared and wanted to cry, but that would only make me choke. I fought it off and remained still, staring into Him with my tearing eyes.



My mouth was completely sealed, and then my nose as well. He was encasing my head with the duct tape. I began to feel panicked. The hose that stuck out of my mouth was my only air hole, my only way to breath.



He smiled, admiring His work. “The mouth of a sex slave should be used as fully as the other two holes, to gratify and service, to offer, to be used and tortured for My amusement and satisfaction.”



I blinked, unable to even grunt with the hose in my throat. I was scared, and I wanted to cry. And that’s when He pushed His hand into my pussy again. I shuddered, feeling his fingers in my cunt. He removed His hand and showed me His glistening digits.



“And again, you’re wet. Remember that. You want this. You asked for this, with your whore pussy.”



I nodded obediently.



He pulled another strip of duct tape off the roll, and I knew it was going over my eyes. He held up two round pieces of gauze and smiled. “You’d thank me if you could speak.” He placed them over my eyes, and finished taping me. I was again, not a person. Not a human. I was His thing, His whore, His toy.



He lead me back out to the rest of the men. I felt many hands on me, I could hear them, but I couldn’t see anything. They were rough, squeezing and pulling. And then I was on my knees on the floor. One of them was in front of me, holding my encased face in his hands like a vicegrip, and one of them was behind me, shoving his fingers in my ass. I began to feel panicked and almost began to cry.



Then I heard my Master’s voice. “I’m right here whore. Remember what I told you.”



Not to struggle. I remembered. The one mounting me grabbed hold of my bound wrists against the small of my back, bucking and jerking, shoving his cock into my ass.



I tried not to choke but I wanted to pull away, the pain was immense and I began to feel like I couldn’t breathe.



Then I heard His voice again. “I’ll hold her head.” I head something, as if He’d put a low stool or box down on the floor in front of me. Sitting down on it, He took my head in his hands and then covered the end of the hose with his thumb.



For a brief second my air was completely cut off. He released it and I took a long steady even breath in, trying to calm down. He said, “I’ll show you what it is to not be able to breathe. I’ll show you panic. Is that what you want, cunt?”



I shook my head no, just slightly, while still in His hands.



“Go head and fuck her. Do whatever you want.”



The first one fucked my ass, cumming quickly and smacking me on my bruised buttucks as he stood. The next one pushed me over onto my back. He fucked my pussy, grabbing my tits in his hands, smacking them, across one way and then back the other with his hands. Each slap was harder than the last.



My Master held my head still. I did not move. I did not struggle. I took each degrading painful fucking, one after the next. My pussy, my tits, my ass, all theirs for their use. I felt like the worthless whore I am.



When the last one was done, I heard someone ask my Master why He hadn’t taken a turn. He said He would later, when we were alone. That excited me.



But they weren’t through with me yet. He shoved me down onto my knees again. I could hear Him unzipping his pants, and suddenly warm liquid was running into my throat.



I gagged and struggled, pulling away trying to breathe. He was pissing down my air tube. He held me firmly by my ponytail handle on top of my head. “Swallow or drown. Your choice.” I choked back the sobs, and the disgusting foul taste of the urine that filled all my senses, and I swallowed. I could hear the other men, in awe of Him.



He stood behind me, holding my head upright by my ponytail head-handle. One by one they took turns with me again, pissing into the tube. Their urine ran down my throat. If I choked or struggled, my Master cut my air off for a second to remind my of my place and His total control. I concentrated on breathing.



When they were all finished, He escorted them to the door. I could hear the salutations, gratitude and compliments. Then they were gone, the door was closed and it was silent.



I kneeled still as He had told me to. I was naked, hands still tied behind my back, head encased in duct tape and this air tube- piss tube hanging out of my mouth. I felt disgusting. Cum was dripping out of my ass and my cunt as I kneeled up with my knees obediently spread apart. The taste of urine permeated me, and burnt my throat.



I waited, listening for His foot steps. Vulnerable, and used. Wondering what would happen next…


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