Lost in Paradise

Jacques wheeled in a cart, filled with inks and needles, spray and gauze and other things.

"Welcome!" she heard Marcel say in the front room. "Would you boys like a show?"

As Jacques sprayed something on one of her breasts and lay an icepack on it, Marcel led a jostling, joking, drunk group of 5 college-aged boys into the room. "We are their new friends!" he exclaimed. They quieted and nudged each other, staring at Lara strapped to the table. She wanted to hide, to run, but could do neither. Marcel took hold of one of her legs to spread it wide. He motioned for one of the boys to hold the other; after slight hesitation, the boy did so carefully, pulling it gently to the side.

Now Jacques had an electric razor at her pussy, suddenly buzzing and pressing against her mound, her swollen lips. She closed her eyes and endured. It almost tickled and she might have enjoyed it, if not for the public circumstances.

The buzzing stopped and the boys all laughed. Lara looked at Jacques. "What did you do to me?" But he ignored her and prepared something else, chatting with Marcel in French.

Marcel said happily, "To guide the lost!" The boys laughed riotously, poking each other and touching their bulges. Marcel said to her, "See what power you have?" The boys continued to stare with wide grins. She realized they could see the purple ring protruding from her full red ass. She tried to squeeze her legs together, ashamed. But her legs were still held open by Marcel and the boy. Marcel explained, "Jacques has shaved an arrow upon your otherwise bald pussy." The boys laughed again. Marcel added, "Oh, your shaved wet pussy lips are so enticing, I could lick them right now!" But Lara pulled her legs, and Marcel allowed them to close.

Jacques was wiping something on her breast, then sprayed something else. She heard a different buzzing as he brought a needle to the top of her breast. She cried out in pain; dulled as it was, it still was excruciating! He was searing her breast with a needle!

Marcel smoother her hair and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his other hand so hard her fingers felt numb.

"Lie still, my Lara. I will make it up to you."

She squeezed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She was so weary and it was so painful!

Finally, the torment ended. She opened her tearful eyes to see the boys staring at her breast, glancing at each other and giggling. Two of them high-fived each other and laughed. Jacques dabbed at her with ointment. Marcel held a mirror to show her her swollen red breast top. With horror, Lara read the thick black word forever engraved there: SLUT.

Her eyes darted around the room. Her face burned in horror and shame. She sobbed. How had she come to this? Who was she? Naked, on display to strange men. Pussy juices dried on her thighs, pussy shaved bald except for that horrible joke. Strapped down, red sore ass filled to bursting with a foreign object jammed inside. Her marred breast slick with ointment and branding her forever as a slut...

Jacques taped gauze across her wound as Marcel undid the strap across her shoulders. She sighed in relief, wanting just to get out of there. But it wasn't over. "Pay now?" asked Jacques, and Marcel nodded, glanced down at Lara. Jacques moved near her head and pulled his massive cock from his pants, inches from her face.

"Come on, Boys!" Marcel said, gesturing to their bulges and to her. "Join in! You know what she is, now. Go ahead, let loose on her!"

"No!" she protested in panic. When would it end? But it was no use. They were so over-eager, all of them practically bursting. They shoved themselves around the table and pulled out their dicks, pumping furiously, knocking into her skin.

Jacques was rubbing the wet tip of his cock on her face. When she tried to turn away, he pulled her hair and turned her head roughly toward him. He forced his cock between her lips and shoved it into her mouth. He thrust vigorously, cramming her face against his pubes. Her neck was twisted and her throat gagging around his erection.

She felt hot sticky splashes across her body as the boys moaned in sequence, then Jacques' pulsing cock in her throat. He came deep and hard. She choked on his cum but had no choice other than to swallow.

When Jacques finally popped his cock from her mouth, she felt a new batch of hot jizz hit her face, her eye, her hair. She realized it was Marcel as he said above her, "You cock-sucking slut, you are mine to do with what I want." He rubbed his cum into her face with his cock, spread it across her lips and cheeks, it against her nose. "Tell me you are my slut, Lara."

"Yes," she whimpered. "I am your slut."

"Let's go home, then. Goodbye, Boys. Goodbye, Jacques."

Lara felt relief, a shameful gratitude, when the group left and Marcel uncinched the second strap, resanitized her breast and patched it with fresh gauze. He helped her stand up, rubbed her shoulders, pulled her bra on and helped her into her dress, some gobs of cum still wet and soaking through from her skin.

Marcel didn't bother to clean her. He touched her cum-stained face and smoothed her sticky hair. He put her pumps on her bare feet, then led her outside, wobbling. He walked her through the crowds, cum-stained and leaning on him. She knew she walked erratically, her ass sore, her anus abused, her breast mauled, even her pussy worn out. Her legs and face shone with dried cum. The plug and its ring grated as her naked ass cheeks rubbed against each other, for her panties had been left behind, a souvenir for Jacques.

For the next week and until she was healed, Marcel cleaned her and massaged her and pampered her, and she thought maybe he was trying to make it up to her as he'd promised. And then they went out again...