Wheelchair Girl

You're sitting on the train, idly staring out of the window watching the fields slide by and feeling the sun's warmth across your face and arms. The heat, the deep throb of the diesel and the gentle rocking of the coach help your mind to drift, so you never notice the guy sitting diagonally opposite. He fills his overalls with a muscular power that indicates a great animal strength. His grimy face is turned towards you, his eyes drinking in your slender form. The sun dress with the scoop neckline showing just the faintest hint of curve; the hem resting delicately above your knees; bare legs at an angle together resting on a single foot-plate. The train begins to decelerate, pressing you gently back against the seat, and, gathering your thoughts, you place your hands on the wheels to manoeuvre the chair. It's then you notice his blue eyes, just for a second before he looks away, but they had looked deep into you with a desire barely contained. You feel a thrill ride from your abdomen up through your chest and into your throat. He is a giant of a man, well over six foot and the image of his fit body straining his clothes stays with you.

As you wait at the edge of the carriage doors he steps past and, turning to you, says in a kind voice "can I help you?"

Recognising that the drop to the platform is greater than you are comfortable with, you nod and reply "Yes." Noticing the slight catch in your voice and the increase in your heart rate.

He leans forward and, with both strength and ease, scoops you out of the chair and over his shoulder. Momentarily your breath is taken away before you're able to wheeze "I need my chair."

"Don't worry love, my friend'll bring that." he replies.

You can feel his arm firmly across the back of your legs and are aware of the hem of you dress having ridden up above his arm, exposing your thighs to anyone behind. Panic starts to rise in you, the situation is wrong, but, pushing against his back with your arms so you can raise your head, you realise the platform is empty. Still not totally convinced that this isn't simply the misguided action of a stranger you ask, as calmly as you can "Where are you taking me?"

But there is no response. You attempt to push yourself up again and find his arm tightens and his other hand presses on your back. You've left the station and crossed the carpark. You hear the sound of a metal shutter being raised and the giant carrying you calls out "Look what I've got lads, something for us to have some fun with."

The words send a chill through you and adrenalin starts to course through your body as you feel the situation slipping away. The giant has stopped and you feel him crouch and then slowly and carefully tip you back onto a cold, dirty mattress. You're looking up at him questioningly, but aware of the voices and movement of several other people.

"What do you want?" you breath, unsure why you've asked that question and afraid of the answer.

"We're just gonna have some fun love, you just lie back and enjoy it" the giant responds. He kneels down, pushes your legs far enough apart to be able to press his knees inside yours and then reaches for your dress. You let out a small cry and try to brush his hands away with yours.

"Come on fellas, get your hands off your pricks and help me out here."

Suddenly there are other hands grasping your wrists and faces and bodies swim into view, older, younger, all scruffy, unshaven and grease marked. Your hands are pulled above your head and the potential violence of the situation floods your mind. You are unable to resist. The giant folds your dress back so that your knickers are exposed, then slides it up to under your breasts, leaning forward to plant a firm kiss just above your pubis, which turns into a slow and animalistic lick upwards across your stomach. Your dress is grasped by other hands and pulled up further, exposing your small round breasts, your pink nipples uncontrollably hard through fear, cold and just a hint of arousal. The sight of your naked breasts has momentarily distracted the men and you feel several hands squeeze and knead them. Then your nipples are pinched. A mouth attaches itself to one and sucks hard, while the other is pulled, stretching your breast to its limit. The assault seems to last an age. Both breasts are squeezed, licked, pinched, pulled and finally slapped until the skin is hot and red and sore.

Just as you begin to be able to close yourself off from the pain and humiliation you feel fingers slip under the band of you knickers and pull, exposing first your shaven mound and then the pink moist slit of your cunt. The flimsy material is tugged, removed and discarded. Now there is a tongue, probing between your legs which have been pushed up, knees bent and then pushed outwards, stretching the lips of your cunt so they peel back with the pressure of the tongue which slides from the entrance of your sex, up your labia to your clit. The lips press hard and powerfully, while the tongue probes and licks.

Suddenly the dress is yanked violently above your head and wrapped around your wrists so that they are bound together. Someone grabs your hair and twists your head so that you can smell the salty cock that appears in front of you and is then pressed firmly against your lips.

"Fuckin' open up ya bitch" demands a voice and compliantly you allow your mouth to slacken. Immediately the cock is thrust deep inside making you choke. Whoever this person is, they want resolution, quickly and violently. You feel a slap across your face that shocks you as the cock thrusts deeper, making you gag. Harder, deeper, faster you fear you may actually throw up and then a hot sticky jet fills your mouth. A smaller thrust and more viscous liquid, swimming over your tongue and behind your teeth. Involuntarily you swallow and the spunk is salty and bitter. But at least the cock is gone.

But now your head is twisted the other way.

"Come on you fucking whore, now you can do Tricky."

Another huge, this time black, cock is pushed into your mouth, sliding across your tongue and pushing at your cheek. Your hands are pulled above your head; you feel the splash of youthful, over-excited cum on your cheek and across your neck; the black cock is being rolled around your mouth and you find yourself licking and sucking, trying to draw it in further; you hair is being pulled so that your head tilts back, exposing your throat; hands are still massaging and pulling at both breasts; other hands are firmly stroking your stomach and hips; a mouth sucks voraciously at your mound while a tongue circles your clit; you feel a firm cock slide into you cunt and begin a rhythmic grind, pounding you deep; hands grip you thighs and move up and down; a finger is in your arse, prodding, probing, now two; someone else is sucking your feet. Even with the reduced sensation in your lower half you feel yourself abandoned, totally consumed, overwhelmed by the rising ecstasy.

"What a fucking slut, she's getting off on this."

You open your eyes and meet those of the giant "You're a right little fucking whore, aren't you?"

He slaps you hard "Come on bitch, tell us all what a whore you are."

The black cock is removed.

You stare pleadingly at the face above you. Another slap, this time harder, hard enough to make your eyes water. Another slap, but this time across your thigh, quickly followed by another across your right breast and then there are more, a hand is round your throat choking you while several more slaps sting your face and stomach.

"I'm a dirty whore." you blurt out.

"And a slut." demands the giant.

"And a slut." you whimper.

Another hard slap and the tears well and fall.

"So what are you?"

"I'm a dirty whore and a slut." you sob.

"Well, you heard her lads, so let's treat her like one."

You feel yourself lifted, hands supporting your whole body, and then turned over. You see the owner of the huge black cock who has slid onto the mattress. You are lowered onto him, your arms are pulled behind your back, someone grabs your hair and pulls you up, while your knees are pushed forwards so you appear to be kneeling. The pain in your scalp is great but you are distracted by the feeling of a huge cock sliding into your wet cunt, impaling you. You feel your head tipping forward so your back arches and now you feel another cock pressing at the puckered entrance to your arse and then pushing slowly past each muscled ring until you are filled. The man beneath begins thrusting slowly and uses his hands on your breasts to push you up as if bench-pressing a weight of little consequence. The guy fucking your arse still has hold of your hair and every thrust forward is measured by a jerk of your head backwards.

Now there are more cocks in your face, both sides. Hands grab your neck and throat and a cock fills your mouth, but after a few seconds your head is twisted to the other side and a new cock is pushed between your lips. Other hands are slapping your arse cheeks until they are red and stinging. The guy beneath you has moved his hands out to your shoulders and other hands grasp at your swinging breasts, teasing and toying, pinching and pulling. To add to the totality of your abuse, the guy fucking your arse reaches his empty hand under your hip and snakes down to your clit where he begins to vigorously rub the now engorged bud.

It is complete submission, every part of you is stimulated in a crescendo of sexual experience. Every nerve ending stretched taught and you can feel an orgasm rising from deep within the pit of your stomach and reaching into the very tips of your fingers. Your mouth fills with hot viscous liquid, your face drips with cum, your shoulders and arms ache and you can sense your arse and cunt being loaded with more creamy sticky fluid. You are wracked with pulse after pulse of pleasure-pain, contracting your stomach muscles, flexing your cunt and arse in equal measure. Wave after wave passes through your whole body making you shudder. Most cocks are now spent and you find yourself lowered and rolled onto your back. One last hard member is pushed roughly into your cunt and you feel the splash of more cum across your belly. Your face is masked in creamy fluid. You've had to close your eyes to stop the stinging but you feel more cum pressed to your lips.

"Come on bitch, drink up."

You part your lips and feel a flood of salty juice, followed by more as fingers press across your cheeks and drag the deposits to your mouth. You wonder if the cum will ever stop; you've swallowed so much you begin to feel sick. Your shoulders are stiff and just when you think the end has come, when the last cock is removed from between your legs, just when you think it might be over one more is inserted and in your mind you wonder if they will just keep taking turns forever. If perhaps this is where you'll die crammed with the spunk of so many men. Then with a grunt and shudder, the last cock expels its load, which drips down your labia and between your thighs until it settles at your still twitching arsehole.

"What a fucking whore."

"She's a filthy bitch alright."

"I think she really wanted that. How about we clean her up?"

You hear the stream before it hits your stomach and can't work out where such a small amount of water might be being poured from, and then you feel another on your chest and without being able to open your eyes you begin to realise, begin to smell the acrid ammonia, know that they are now all pissing on you. You keep your lips firmly pressed together, a last act of defiance as streams splash across your neck and chest, stomach and thighs. The sounds and the sensation stop. You are drenched and exhausted. Your body is once more flipped. Your hands released from the dress and then you are lifted into a sitting position and you feel the dress being tugged down over your wet and sticky body. You're lifted again, but this time by one man and tossed over his shoulder in the same manner you had arrived. You feel yourself lowered carefully back into what you assume is your chair. You can feel yourself being pushed and then the cool air and warm sun against your face that tell you you're once more outside. You're aware of the wetness between your thighs, which also reminds you that your knickers are lying, discarded somewhere in the warehouse. There is a short gradient and then you stop. You can sense that the guy who has wheeled you back has knelt down and now you feel him gently wipe your face. You open your eyes and stare into his. He smiles.

"Can't let you go home covered in cum, now can we?"

You nod, disarmed by the kindness.

"Same time next week?"

You smile "Sure, why not."