Bar Scene [Chapter 1-4]

Send all comments, suggestions, verbal humiliation to:
lifewrecker@my-deja.com

None of this stuff (probably) ever happened. I actually think
Andre is a hell of a guy.

Bar Scene
Chapter 1

(Rape, NC, humiliation, MMM+/ff, bootlicking tennis pros)

"Match point," Martina stated matter-of-factly as she drew

back her racket head and let loose an 80-mph serve into Anna’s
court. The serve hit just inside the line and sailed past
Anna’s outstretched arm. "Game, set, match!" Martina
shouted.
"That was out, you bitch," Anna Kournikova laughed and
threw her practice racket across the net in the general
direction of her doubles partner.
A few hoots and hollers could be heard from the 30 or so
spectators who had gathered to watch them at the public
courts. Anna shot them a winning smile and waved. Martina
Hingis put her arm around her friend and kissed her on the
cheek as several male fans frantically tried to snap a
picture.
"Well, shall we head back to the hotel?" Martina asked.
"Our mothers will be waiting for us."
"No way! They already control 90% of our lives. The
nightlife is ours!" Anna exclaimed, twirling around with her
arms outspread. "OK, so what, then?"
"Ummm. Let’s go to a bar."
"Yeah, right. We’re both under 21 and we’re hardly dressed
for it," Martina said, swirling her tennis skirt.
"Martina, dahling," Anna said, in a drawn-out drawl,
"we’re celebrities. We go where we want and wear what we
want." Anna strutted like a model showing off her yellow top,
little more than a sports bra, really, and matching yellow
shorts. Martina did the same, twirling about, giving whatever
passersby were watching a glimpse of her white cotton panties.
"Let’s go!"


The two young tennis stars arrived at Billy’s Wild Horse
Saloon in a slightly rundown part of Miami. Martina had wanted
to go to a glitzy club but Anna was worried about getting
mobbed by her fans. "I have fans, too, Anna," Martina pouted.
"Sure, you do, hon," Anna giggled. "Look, Anna, this place
looks a little rough. Maybe we shouldn’t…"
"It’ll be OK. Hey, why don’t we call Patrick. I know where
he’s staying."
Martina blushed a little at the suggestion. She had a
major crush on the handsome Australian but never had the
courage to say anything. Anna dropped 35 cents in the pay
phone outside the bar and dialed his number at the hotel.
"Patrick Rafter," came the deep voice on the other end.
"Patrick, honey, this is Anna. What are ya doing tonight?"
she asked in her huskiest voice.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Meet me and Martina at the Wild Horse Saloon at 9:00, K?"
"You got it," he said and Anna could hear the smile in his
voice. "Ok," Anna said, hanging up the phone. That gives
us an hour to get wasted before he gets here," Anna said,
grabbing Martina by the hand.

The place was seedier on the inside than the outside but
Anna pressed on, dragging Martina with her. They took seats at
the bar and ordered two vodkas.
"I’ll need some I.D., ladies" the fat bartender grunted,
barely looking up at them.
"I.D.?!" Anna exclaimed. "That’s funny. Don’t you watch
women’s tennis?"
The bartender stood up to his full 6’6" 300 lb. frame and
spat on the floor. "Do I look like I watch ladies tennis?" he
said slowly. "He is a big figure skating fan, though,"
someone yelled out from the other end of the room to much
laughter.
The bartender chewed on his toothpick and stared in the
direction of the laughter which soon died down. "Now, girls,"
he said, leaning forward on the bar, "let’s see some pictures
or you’re out of here." "Well, it just so happens we left
our IDs at home so you’ll just have to take our word for it,"
Anna huffed.
Martina stifled a laugh. This Russian has a lot to learn
about America. "Come on, Anna. Let’s get out of here."
Anna turned to leave but the doorway was blocked by two
tall men in cowboy boots and hats.
"Well, well, Slim, looks like we got ourselves a couple of
movie stars here," the older one drawled.
"Looks that way, Tex," the younger blond said.
"Tex? Slim? Are those your real names? And whoever heard
of cowboys in Florida? And we’re TENNIS stars, not movie
stars," Anna sputtered, letting loose a torrid of angry
Russian.
"Whooeee! Slim, I think she’s cussing us out. That don’t
seem right, does it? We was just being friendly."
"Get out of our way," Anna shouted and pushed against the
men. Tex easily wrapped her up in one arm and dragged her back
to the bar, kicking and screaming. Slim had slightly more
trouble bringing Martina in but another patron helped him out.
"Doug, lock the door and pull the shades," the bartender
said. The short pudgy man at the end of the bar almost
fell down running to the door and locking the two girls and
about 12 men inside.
"Now, how about you apologize for your bad manners,
missy," Tex said, running his gloved hand down Anna’s cheek.
"Fuck you!" Anna screamed and spit at him.
A vicious punch in the stomach brought the young Russian
to her knees, retching and coughing.
"Get up," Tex snarled, kicking her gently in the ribs.
Anna tried to stand but bent over again in pain. No one had
ever hit her before. She was dazed and shocked. A hand in her
hair pulled her to her feet as she cried out in agony. Tex
picked her up by her waist and sat her on the lap of an older
man who was sitting on a bar stool. Grandpa, as they called
him, wrapped his tanned arms around her stomach and held her
tight as her 120 lb. body struggled against him. He groaned in
mock pleasure as she ground her ass into his groin as she
fought. Anna realized what she was doing and stopped, sitting
sullenly on the old man’s lap.
Anna watched helplessly as Martina was bent over a table
at the waist and her skirt pulled up from behind and tucked
into her waistband. A pair of booted feet kicked Martina’s
legs apart so she stood with legs spread wide. Another pair of
hands held her head down on the table. Slim’s hand found its
way between her legs and he rubbed her
panty-covered cleft.
"This is one sweet pussy, Tex," he exclaimed after
sniffing his finger. He slipped his fingers under panties this
time and explored her depths as Martina cried out in
humiliation.
Grandpa was holding Anna now with one arm and using the
other to massage Anna’s breasts through her workout top. He
cackled and guffawed as she tried to kick him. Tex let the men
have their fun for a few more minutes and then had the girls
line up against the wall farthest from the door.
"Me and the boys wanna see a show and you’re tonight’s
entertainment. Why don’t you start with a striptease?"
Martina and Anna began to protest but a loud click drew
their attention to the hogleg the bartender had pulled out and
cocked. "Dance," he said.
Someone had put some shit-kicking country music on the
jukebox and the men began to hoot and holler. The two athletes
looked at each other for support and then began to sway to the
music, stopping several times to cover their faces but they
continued on. Martina was first to drop her skirt to the floor
and she kicked it over to the men at their request. Doug
pulled out a knife and began to shred the skirt. Anna’s top
and shorts followed bringing much lustful noise from the
crowd. Her clothes also fell prey to the knife. Martina cried
openly as she undid her purple bra and threw it to the men.
Anna removed her white sports bra, dropped it to the floor and
covered her breasts with both arms. "Nuh-uh, girlie. Bring
it here," Tex shouted.
Anna groaned and threw the bra toward the bar. It sailed
maybe 5 feet.
"I said BRING it here, bitch."
Anna picked up the bra and carried it over to Tex and put
it in his hand.
"Thank you, but let’s do it right this time."
Anna looked at him questioningly through her tears.
Tex told her what he expected and she dumbly nodded her
head and walked back to her spot near the far wall. Anna put
the bra back on and stood facing the men. Blushing crimson and
swearing to herself, she began to jump up and down. "Higher,"
someone shouted. Anna redoubled her efforts and was jumping in
earnest now, her supported breasts still bouncing with every
jump. She had never been so embarrassed in all her life.
"Stop," Tex said.
Anna stopped hopping and slowly removed her bra, making no
effort to hide herself as her lovely breasts came into full
view of the patrons. "Resume." Anna again began hopping up and
down on her toes as the men almost died from laughter. Anna
tried to catch Martina’s eyes for moral support but Martina
was staring transfixed at Anna’s bouncing tits.
"Now bring me your bra," Tex smirked and elbowed the man
next to him.
Anna wiped back a tear and fell to her hands and knees.
She placed the bra between her teeth and crawled to the
waiting cowboy.
"Thank you, Anna. Good girl," he smiled, patting her on
the head as she released the bra from her teeth. Anna held
her head still,
accepting the condescending maneuver. She had lost the will to
fight. "Get over here," Slim motioned to Martina, who sank
to her knees unbidden and crawled over to the men. "That’s
what I like to see. A woman who knows her place. Clean my
boots, bitch."
Martina dropped her head to the floor and stuck out her
tongue. Slim stuck out his boot and her soft pink tongue
flattened against his sole. Anna followed suit on Tex’s boots.


Patrick had been drinking with Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras
when he had gotten the call from Anna. Andre had been crying
in his beer about Brooke all night and Pete and Patrick were
glad for a chance to change the subject. At 9:15, they pulled
up in front of the bar in Pete’s Jeep. "Looks like it’s
closed, man, " Andre said, pulling on a longneck. "Put
that shit away, Andre. I don’t need a ticket," Pete said,
giving Andre a stern look.
"Ah, shit," Andre said and threw the bottle against the
tavern door, shattering the bottle.
They were about to leave when they saw someone peeking out
from behind the shades in response to the noise.
"Well, looks like we’re gonna crash a private party,"
Andre slurred and hopped out of the Jeep. Pete and Patrick
followed him as he banged on the door. "OPEN UP,
MOTHERFUCKERS!" Andre yelled at the top of his lungs. A few
seconds later the door was opened by the biggest man they had
ever seen holding a shotgun.
"Go away, asshole. Can’t you see we’re closed?"
"But I love country music," Andre whined and tried to
squirm past the bartender.
"I said get lost," the bartender grunted, pushed Andre
down with one arm and slammed the door shut.
"Guys, I have a bad feeling about this," Patrick said. " I
heard a woman scream in there. It sounded like Martina. We
gotta get inside. Let’s see if there’s a back door." The three
tennis stars made their way to the back of the building and
sure enough the back door was unlocked, forgotten by the
horny, drunken captors. Patrick went first, staying low to the
ground. He swung the door between the kitchen and the bar open
slightly and peered inside. What he saw gave him an instant
erection and horrified him at the same time…

end chapter 1

Bar Scene (NC, rape, celeb, MMM+/ff, human pinatas)
Chapter 2

Anna Kournikova, Russian tennis queen and one of his best
friends on the tour, was bouncing up and down on a short fat
man’s lap as he wheezed and coughed. She was facing him with
her hands gripping the back of his fleshy neck. Her gorgeous
mane of hair was thrown back as she looked at the ceiling,
trying somehow to imagine herself in another place. A sharp
slap on her ass brought her back to attention and she again
looked Doug in the eyes and kissed him deeply on his fishy
lips. Doug’s hands dug into Anna’s toned ass and he slapped
her cheeks in rhythm with her thrusts. The fat bartender stood
nearby chucking beer nuts at her which she was required to try
to catch in her mouth. Patrick watched in fascination as the
bartender poured a tall glass of whiskey. Anna was given
permission to stop her services long enough to drink the
entire glass. Then she began again. Doug had long since shot
his load into the tennis star at least twice but Anna had not
been given
permission to stop so she continued to ride the flaccid dick
as she gripped it with her pussy to keep it from falling out.
Patrick didn’t have to look hard for Martina. She was the
center of attention as she hung from the ceiling by her
wrists. She kicked and struggled as her feet hung about a foot
off the floor. She screamed and cried as the men below her
played an adult game of human pinata. "Someone gag the
bitch. She’s making too much noise." Grandpa slipped off
his bar stool, pulled off his left boot and removed one nasty
looking sock. He cackled as he stuffed the sock into Martina’s
mouth but she spit it right back out, gagging and coughing.
The bartender came over carrying a large Bud Light sticker and
some clear tape. He stuffed the sock back into Martina’s
mouth, slapped the sticker over her lips and taped it all in.
Martina mewed behind the gag as her eyes grew wide.
The hooting cowboys blindfolded a guy named Ace and began
turning him in circles. After they decided he was dizzy
enough, they slapped a cattle prod in his hand and ran away
very quickly as he began swinging it about.
Ace tried to focus on the sound of Martina’s whimpering as
she tried to be as quiet as possible. If he got too far away
from her, someone would sneak up behind him and kick his leg
as he swung the prod and swore. Ace eventually got close to
the hanging girl as the other men chanted and taunted him.
When he got close enough, Martina brought up her legs and
kicked him in the chest as hard as she could, sending him
falling to the ground off balance. Ace swore loudly and ripped
the blindfold off, "You fucking bitch…" He started to run at
her but was grabbed by several men.
"Come on, now, Ace, don’t be that way. She was just doin’
what she thought was right," Tex said, brushing the dirt off
Ace’s shirt. "We just need to even the odds a bit, that’s
all." Tex produced a bandana which he wrapped around Martina’s
head, blinding her.
"Now let’s try that again," Tex clapped his hands and Ace
put his blindfold back on.
Everyone had a seat at the bar or a table as they watched
Ace stumble around, swinging his cattle prod as Martina feebly
kicked in every direction. The first contact was made with Ace
backing into Martina’s body. He swung around with the prod and
caught her on her left ribcage sending Martina into mad
contortions like a fish on a hook. Howls of laughter erupted
from the men as they raised a toast to Ace. Once Ace had a
bead on his victim, he was relentless. He struck her ass,
belly, and once her breasts but mostly her thighs as he swung
at shoulder level. Martina screamed as best she could behind
her gag as Anna buried her head in Doug’s shoulder to try to
shut out the torture of her best friend.

Patrick was aware of a presence nearby and looked back to
see Andre and Pete practically hanging over his shoulders
looking out the door. Patrick jerked his shoulder away from
Andre in homophobic horror as he saw Andre rubbing himself
though his pants. "Cut that shit out, man," Patrick hissed
between his teeth. "Those are our friends. We have to help
them!"
"Yeah," Pete said.
Andre snorted and folded his arms.
"Maybe we should call the police," Patrick suggested.
"Oh, come on, we can take these pussies," Andre said, not
bothering to whisper.
"Would you keep your voice down, you moron!" Patrick
whispered loudly.
"Yeah," Pete said.
Andre slapped Pete upside the head and sat down heavily on
a crate, resting his aching head in his hands. Pete rubbed his
head and looked out into the bar again.
After several minutes, Andre said, "Uhh, guys…."
"Shhhh!!!" Patrick said, not looking back.
"Guys!" Andre shouted.
"What the fu…" Patrick hissed, spinning around. Andre
knelt on the ground with a shotgun nestled behind one ear. The
huge bartender stood grinning at the three men. "Well, lookee
here," he smiled, exposing several rotten teeth.

Anna looked around at the commotion and Martina cocked her
head toward the noise as the bartender led three young men in
shorts and polo shirts into the bar from the kitchen.
"Look like we got ourselves some peeping toms, Tex," the
bartender snarled.
"Patrick!" Anna cried out and then turned her face away so
he wouldn’t see her shaming.
"You know these girls?" Tex drawled.
Patrick hesitated a few seconds and then said yes. "We
already called the cops so you guys better just let us go
now."
"That’s a funny accent you got there, buddy. Whole lot of
funny accents tonight," Tex laughed, looking toward Martina’s
dangling body. "Are you all tennis stars too?"
"Yeah, what of it," Andre surged forward, getting in Tex’s
face. "Easy there, boy," Tex laughed, rolling a toothpick
around in his mouth. "Hey, I know you. You’re that guy who
married Brooke Shields." Andre felt like he was punched in
the stomach at the mention of her name.
"How was that pussy, man? Tight and dry, I bet," Tex
grinned. "Shut the fuck up, asshole!" Andre bellowed and
ran at the man. Tex easily sidestepped the drunk tennis player
and sent him flying with an outstretched boot. Another boot on
the back of his neck kept Andre on the ground. He lay near
Anna and Doug and could hear the wet suction noises they made
as her exhausted legs continued to move her body up and down.
"Well, Andre," Tex said crouching down next to the fallen
man. "I like you. I really do. I’m gonna make you a deal. You
seem like a man who enjoys teenage pussy. I’m gonna give you a
shot at young Miss Hingis there. Would you like that?"
Andre rolled his eyes toward the young woman’s shivering
nude form as she hung from the rafters.
"Uh-huh," Andre grunted, the boot still on his neck.
"Let him up," Tex snapped. "We got ourselves another show."
Andre stood, rubbing his neck as they lowered the girl to the
ground. Patrick and Pete glared at Andre but he ignored them.
They most likely wouldn’t leave here alive and if he was going
to die he was going to do it buried balls deep in Martina
Hingis.

end chapter 2

Bar Scene (celeb, NC, oral gunplay)
Chapter 3

"Hey, Tex, check this out! They really are tennis pros."
Sam, a local investment counselor, had gone out to his car and
gotten his laptop computer. He showed Tex and Slim pictures he
found of Anna on the internet in her various outfits and a
couple of fake nudes.
"Maybe we should post a few. People would never believe
they were real anyway. But we’d know and she’d know," Sam
grinned.
"Sure, why not? Anyone got a camera?"

Martina Hingis collapsed on the floor, rubbing her
ropeburned wrists and weeping softly. A quick kick in her ass
got her crawling toward the bar.
"OK, Andre, show us what you got," Slim cackled.
Andre Agassi dropped his shorts and boxers and stood a few
feet away from the kneeling Hingis, nervously shifting from
foot to foot. "Looks a little, I don’t know… little,"
Slim said, cocking his head to one side.
"It gets bigger," Andre said defensively.
"Just needs a little help, that’s all," Tex said, joining
the circle. He brought the shotgun with him and placed it to
Martina’s forehead. "You’re probably feeling a little helpless
and confused right now, am I right? Young celebrity used to
getting her own way stumbles into a bar where no one gives a
fuck who she is or what she wants. But it ain’t that way. You
do have a certain amount of control over the situation. For
instance, you get to decide what happens next. You can blow
your friend or I can blow you away. So, what’s it gonna be,
sweetness?"
Martina stared up at Andre who was unable to look her in
the eye. She muttered, "OK."
"OK what? OK you suck his dick or OK I repaint the walls?"
Tex grunted, caressing her cheek with the barrel of the gun.
"OK, I s..suck his dick," Martina responded in her thick
accent, blinking rapidly.
"You ever sucked a man’s dick before, sweetcheeks?" Tex
asked. "N..No. I have not."
"Bullshit! You’re face was made for fucking. I bet Anna’s
sucked a few, eh?"
Everyone turned to Anna who was indeed sucking on a
cowboy’s cock as they spoke. A few seconds later the displaced
Texan pulled out of her mouth and let a thick string of cum
land on the pretty teenager’s face. "Leave it there. Let
it dry," the Texan drawled as he wiped his cock dry in her
hair. "Let’s go watch the show." Anna was dragged by her hair
to join the circle of men who had gathered around Martina and
Andre. The Texan sat cross-legged on the floor and had Anna
sit on his lap. He idly toyed with her soft nipples as Tex
continued baiting Martina.
Tex traced the outline of Martina’s mouth with the gun.
"Why don’t you practice first on my friend here."
Martina hesitated, not sure of what he meant and then bent
her head forward to engulf the barrel of the shotgun. Tex
pulled it back a few inches as her lips first contacted the
cold steel. Martina bent further forward on her knees until
she almost toppled over. Tex allowed her to wrap her lips
around the gun.
"Move your head up and down. Grip the shaft with your lips
but don’t use your teeth." Martina did as she was told,
fearful of the gun going off accidentally. Her mother had
always told her not to play with loaded guns. She wondered if
giving a blowjob to one counted as playing. She had lied about
not giving any blowjobs before, of course. Hell, she had
practically paid her way through tennis camp that way. But
this was one rod she didn’t want ejaculating in her mouth.
Keeping an eye on Tex’s trigger finger, Martina did the best
she could to show she was ready for the real thing.
"Come on, man. Lemme do it," Andre whined, jumping up and
down in anticipation. Tex pulled the gun out of Martina’s
mouth abruptly, causing her to fall forward.
"I don’t think you’re in any position to be demanding
anything, punk," Tex said, jabbing the barrel into Andre’s
gut. Andre blanched and fell silent.
"Tex, Tex!! Come here, man! Check this out," Sam shouted
excitedly. Tex tossed the shotgun to the bartender who made
Andre sit next to Martina and put his arm around her. Martina
played with his cock and balls just enough to keep him hard
per the bartender’s instructions. Pete and Patrick sat in
their chairs nearby, bound hand and foot and gagged with
Anna’s and Martina’s panties, respectively. Tex couldn’t be
sure but he thought Pete seemed quite happy with the
situation. Takes all kinds, he thought to himself.

"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," Tex swore as he stared
at the computer monitor. There she was in all her glory. The
perfect woman for Tex. All his life he had lived with the
racist bullshit of his father and he had perversely sought
after the one thing his father hated the most: black women.
His father would rather have come home and found his son
drinking bottled water and playing with his sister’s dolls
than find him fucking a "nigger girl."
Tex quickly scanned her bio: Born June 17, 1980,
granddaughter of a Louisiana sharecropper, grew up in Compton,
CA. This girl was perfect. His father would have hated her on
sight. Oh, shit! 6’1 1/2" and 169 lbs? This girl could kick my
ass, he thought. I gotta have her.
"Hey Andre, you ever heard of a girl named Venus
Williams?" Tex said, walking over the the reluctant lovers.
Martina’s head shot up. "Did anyone tell you to stop
jerking him off, bitch?" the bartender asked quietly. Martina
shook her head and resumed massaging Andre’s balls.
"Well, yeah. You mean you guys haven’t?" Andre started to
laugh but then thought better of it. "Yeah, I mean, she’s a
tennis player." "Yeah, I gathered that, Einstein. What I
mean is do you know her?" "Well, everybody pretty much
knows everybody on the tour. I’ve never…"
"Is she in Miami? Do you have her phone number? Can you
get her here, Andre?"
Andre glanced quickly over at his two friends who were
shaking their heads wildly. He knew he couldn’t involve
another innocent in this situation. It was bad enough as it
was. "I don’t have her phone number. I don’t even know…"
"Alright, smartass," Tex interrupted him. "Martina, lie
down on the floor on your back and spread your legs. That’s a
good girl. I want you to play with yourself. Get your fingers
wet, girl. That’s it, slide them in and out."
Martina complied immediately, her fingers thrusting in and
out of her pussy as she spread her muscular legs as widely as
he could, her knees flexed. Someone poured a beer over her and
her glistening fingers worked the brew into her most intimate
folds. She paused to lick her fingers clean when she was told
to. Anna sat sullenly, amazed at how quickly her friend had
become such a slut. Then she realized she had a scrotum in
each hand and suddenly felt very hypocritical for her
judgment. Neither of them had a choice at this point; it was
all about getting out of this alive. The guy she knew only as
Slim had taken a seat behind her and begun braiding her hair.
What was this all about, she wondered and dug her fingernails
into a pair of balls, eliciting a good-natured groan from
their owner.
Tex watched Andre from the corner of his eye. He could see
the lust and anticipation in Andre’s face. Tex squatted next
to Andre and talked to him in a low voice.
"Look at this bitch. German, Austrian, Swiss, whatever the
fuck she is. Now, she isn’t the prettiest girl alive but
there’s something about her, huh? Something you’ve always
liked about her. You think she’d ever give you a piece of that
outside these four walls? Of course not. You’re her friend.
She wouldn’t want to spoil that. It’s special to her, etc,
etc, blah, blah, blah. But I’m giving you an opportunity, my
friend; the opportunity of a lifetime. I can make it look like
you had no choice, like you were forced into it at gunpoint.
That way, if you all behave and get out of here in one piece,
she’ll still somewhat respect you. Hell, she may even like it
and want to relive the fantasy later!" Tex could see the
wheels turning in Andre’s mind. (He said we would leave alive.
It’s not like I’m gonna get anybody killed. Venus could stand
to learn some lessons these men were dishing out. That sweet,
sweet pussy. Damn, she wants me. She’s not faking it, now.
She’s thinking about me while she masturbates. You only live
once. Carpe diem.)
Andre turned his head toward Tex and whispered in his ear,
"I don’t know where she’s staying but she’s in Miami. We’re
all here for a benefit. I have her beeper number but it’s in
my wallet back at the hotel…Redding Inn…Room 457. Not too
far from here. There’s a spare key in glovebox of the Jeep."
Excellent, Tex thought to himself. He couldn’t believe his
luck. "Oh, there’s one more thing," Andre grinned.
"What’s that?" Tex asked, leaning closer to Andre.
"She has a sister."

end chapter 3

Bar Scene 4 (nc, MM/ff, sm)

Sam reluctantly agreed to drive over to the hotel to get
Andre’s wallet. He drove as fast as he could to avoid missing
anything
happening at the bar but by the time he returned much had
already taken place. Martina and Anna were kneeling in front
of Patrick’s and Pete’s chairs with their heads in the men’s
laps. Their ankles were crossed and tied with a pair of belts
and their arms and wrists were bound tightly to the outside of
the male tennis players’ thighs with thin cords. They both
wore the cold wet panties that had until recently been gagging
the men. Patrick looked as if he was going to have a heart
attack as he strained to resist the pleasures of Martina’s
tongue covering his cock with a thick coat of saliva. He
thought of baseball, cars, tax-deferred annuities – anything
to avoid enjoying the image of the WTA star kneeling in front
of him.
Martina, for her part, was mortified. It was bad enough
she had to masturbate in front of her crush but now to submit
to his oral
gratification… A girl likes to hold part of herself back
when chasing a guy or allowing him to chase her. Always keep
them wanting more was her motto. As her tongue pressed against
the base of his scrotum she figured the chase was pretty much
over. She had a feeling he was going to get anything he could
ever want from her tonight.
Anna worked Pete’s dick like a pro figuring the sooner he
shot, the sooner they would let her up. It didn’t take long as
Pete unloaded in her mouth after about 2 minutes. She stopped
sucking and rested her head on his leg. A sharp crack from a
belt across her ass made Anna jump. She pressed her nose
against Pete’s pubic hair and took him in her mouth again. A
short while later he came again but she kept
sucking. He was now completely soft but Anna dared not stop.
For Pete it was now more annoying than pleasureable but he
couldn’t do anything about it either.
"All right, now we’re talking," Tex said, shaking the
piece of paper Sam had handed him. "Now, who’s going to invite
the Williams’ girls over? Andre’s a little…busy right now so
I guess it’s gonna be Pete or Patrick. How about it, Patrick?
You want to call them?" "Fuck you," Patrick said under his
breath, trying to concentrate on not coming as Martina’s soft
pink tongue flickered at the tip of his penis.
"Yeah, you’re a tough guy, Pat. I’ll give you that. But
how much of a bastard can you be? How long will you sit and
watch your friends suffer before you give in? Sam…?"
Sam appeared at Tex’s side holding a folded-over belt.
"Do your stuff," Tex said and had a seat at the bar.
Martina and Anna couldn’t see what was coming but the crack of
the belt and the sudden agony in their feet caused their whole
bodies to jerk violently away from their men. The cords held
them tightly in place as they hopped up and down on their
knees, ineffectively trying to lessen the pain. A second
strapping had them both in tears begging Sam to stop. Sam only
grinned and drew back his arm.
"Well, Patrick, shall we continue?"
"I…."
Sam brought the strap down twice in quick succession on
the girls’ writhing feet as Patrick yelled for him to stop.
"OK, OK, I’ll do it, motherfucker. Just stop hitting them.
Please," Patrick said, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Good. I already paged them, Patrick, and they should be
calling back soon. I had confidence in you."
Patrick hung his head in defeat and anger.
"You’re not off the hook yet, Pat. Seems we have some
unfinished business. I don’t believe you’ve cum yet. Obviously
Martina doesn’t do it for you. Maybe you enjoy your own hand
more," Tex prodded. "I’m going to untie one hand, let’s make
it your left just to make it interesting, and you’re going to
beat off into Martina’s face." Patrick shook in anger at
Tex’s suggestion and flexed his newly freed wrist, working out
the soreness of being tied.
"Again, to make it interesting, I’m going to let Sam get
some more exercise."
"NOOO!!!" Martina cried out, looking over her shoulder at
the thin white male casually slapping the belt against his
leg.
Sam’s arm came down with a flash of leather and Martina’s
feet exploded in pain.
"Better get started, Pat," Tex gloated.
Patrick gripped his cock and began to furiously pump on
it. His hand kept slipping off since he was inexperienced
using his left palm. His frustration grew as he couldn’t get
any harder and Martina wailed in pain a few feet away from
him. For the sake of Martina, he thought to himself, he
allowed himself to enjoy her tears and nakedness. He grew
harder as he thought of her helplessness and how in a small
way he controlled how much pain she received.
Martina stared in horror at Patrick as he slowed his pace
and squeezed his cock head while staring straight at her. He’s
deliberately prolonging my torture, Martina thought, and this
caused her almost as much pain as the next vicious whipping of
her naked soles.
Patrick groaned and his whole body started shaking.
"Lean forward, Martina," Tex suggested.
Martina bent forward at her waist until her face was
inches away from Patrick’s furiously awkward stroking. She
braced herself as Patrick stopped moving altogether and
seconds later dumped hot streams of cum on her face. Fresh
tears of humiliation mixed with the semen dripping from her
chin as she knelt back on her heels.
Sam whipped the belt across Martina’s back. Fresh pain
from this new area caused Martina to nearly fall over in
shock.
"What do you say, young lady?" Sam stood next to her with
his hands on his hips.
Martina looked up at him through the haze of her tears.
"T-Thank you, sir," Martina managed, hoping that was what
he wanted to hear.
"And how about Patrick? Didn’t he give you something too?"
Martina turned her head toward Patrick who was staring at
the floor.
"Thank you, Patrick," Martina said stiffly, hoping she
could hurt him somehow with her words.
"Say it nice," Sam said, slapping at her right breast with
his belt.
"Thank you, Patrick," Martina repeated in a soft voice
now, her shoulders shaking.
"Patrick?" Sam goaded.
Patrick lifted his head, looked Martina in the eye and
grinned. "Thanks, bitch."

end chapter 4

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END