THE LIBRARY: Model Prisoner The Conclusion

Model7MODEL PRISONER Part 7 {Continued From Here}

{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Agnes. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}  


“Shut up, bitch,” the host’s assistants said as they forced penis-prod gags into each of the abducted girls’ ring-gagged mouths, locking them into place with a groove at the base of the prods. “Just be glad you’re not in there, with super cunt....”

The jockeying for the next slot was lively, since they all knew Michelle had to be close to explosion from the vengeful model agency woman’s machinations. The less-endowed Asian won in a fever of bidding, knowing that this was his best possibility of satisfaction.

Her hair cleansed, her body washed, Michelle was hurled onto the bed, her wrists tied behind her to her waist, her ankles still hobbled. The Asian snaked between her legs, jammed himself inside and set to rutting as she writhed and shook -- trying desperately to gain release both internally and externally. Both were denied her as the Asian’s pathetic attempts couldn’t ignite the model agency rival’s fuse.

Sobbing in shame, contorting, her muscles spasming, Michelle was torn at by the frustrated little man, his hands finally clamping around her throat. The others watched, fascinated, as Michelle’s body stiffened and her face grew dark, then a sickly gray.

Then a deep voice said, “That’s enough,” and her kidnapper stepped up, swatted the Asian’s hands aside like gnats and plucked him off the strangling girl like a marionette. His tiny dick popped out of her as she coughed and shook.

The little man coughed and shook as well until the spiky-haired host took him aside with a profuse thank you. “It’s perfect,” he assured him. “Couldn’t be better. You’ll see.” Then he placed a gold whistle to his lips and blew it soundlessly.

To the gathered crowd’s amazement three small white dogs appeared, racing into the room like fast moving clouds. Leaping up to the bed in a strictly and obviously trained formation, one went to each of Michelle’s breasts and the other dug it’s head deep between her legs. Squealing, Michelle jerked back to full life, rolling and twisting, trying to get away from their nipping teeth and rough wet tongues.

The crowd watched, astonished, for a few seconds at the roiling figures before the spiky-haired host said; “Well? Who wants her feet?”

The men raced forward, grabbing her ankles and pulling them wide along the baseboard railing. The kidnapper moved casually forward, wrapped an armful of Michelle’s honeyed hair in his fist and forced her head down to the pillow.

“Okay,” said their host. “Watch closely. Brandy, Scotch, Vodka? Now come.”

That was their code word. The little dogs went at her breasts and cunt like hyper machines. The one between her legs inserted her snout, nipping teeth, and darting tongue almost all the way inside the struggling girl.

The others watched, enraptured, as Michelle’s nipples hardened and seemed to inflate, her skin shone then grew deeply red, her thighs slickened, and she began to moan and cry, her head all the way back and her eyes screwed shut.

When she came, she almost exploded out of all their grips, nearly scalping herself. But somehow, through all her shrieks and writhing they held on...and the dogs didn’t even slow.

“Okay,” said the host calmly. “Now let go.” Then he barked “Titan, Trigger, Tango. Fetch.”

Through the door came two pit bulls and a rottweiler. The tiny white dogs immediately leaped off the bed and raced out while one pit bull went to Michelle’s throat, expertly placing her neck in its mouth, it’s teeth clamping on without breaking the skin.

Michelle’s eyes popped open.

The other pit bull wedged itself under her ear, forcing up her hips.

Michelle’s blue-green honeyed eyes grew wider in amazement and dread.

The rottweiler placed its paws on either side of her tiny waist and jammed its haunches against her beaver.

Michelle screamed as the host’s assistants nimbly and tightly strapped her ankles wide to the baseboard posts. Then she was forced to watch herself be raped by the dog.

Outside the tycoon abused the student, the model agency owner fondled the waitress, and the Asian slobbered on the breasts of the cringing blonde, but inside the others watched as the “World’s Most Beautiful Girl” was fucked by a well-trained, surprisingly endowed rottweiler -- her throat held down by one pit bull, and her haunches raised by another.

Then her kidnapper slowly lowered his hand to rest on one of her ample, strong breasts. As the dog continued to rut madly, he carefully squeezed, then began to twist. Then The Bitch lowered her hand onto Michelle’s other breast, and started to maul that as well. The dog with her elegant neck in its mouth didn’t move, save for one eye, which followed their hands’ molestations.

The show was spectacular as each of Michelle’s bones and muscles seemed to shift, and the expressions of horror on her defiled face changed by the second. First incomprehension, then confusion, then dawning awareness, then unacceptance, then total realization, torment, humiliation, and, finally, repugnance -- as the others, seemingly on a silent signal, began to unzip themselves and masturbate all around her.

Smiling, his dark eyes beaming, the host raised his hand. He didn’t even have to say anything. Everyone knew what the lowering of his hand would mean....

For a few moments, the only sound of the room was flesh on flesh; hands on cocks, hands kneading her breasts, the dog’s penis thrusting inside her....and then the host’s quiet voice. “Tango...?”

His hand dropped. “...Come.” The dog ejaculated inside her. Almost everyone spurted; on her face, chest, stomach, hips, and legs. Michelle screamed in agonized frustration, bucking and writhing. But they all just laughed and fell on her, the dogs scrambling aside.

The rest of the examination period was a blur, to everyone. Michelle was hung from the ceiling horizontally, back to the floor, her arms and legs spread-eagled in mid-air, her waist held up by a strap. There everyone got an opportunity to maul her breasts and come in her warm, wet, still tight, spasming cunt.

Seated on the wooden block, her hands shackled at the sides (causing her to lean over slightly), everyone got the chance to squeeze her tits some more and come in her soft ruby mouth (which was pried open by a dental device) while holding onto her lovely head and silken hair.

Finally it was over, and the host’s assistants dragged Michelle away, her face and body dotted, splattered, and coated with gobs of jism. While she was emptied, cleaned, and dressed, there was even some spirited bidding for the specially made ball that had only been recently wedged in her mouth.

Then they all retired to the bidding area back in the living room where Denise, Kerrie, and Stacy lay, bound and gagged in viciously sexy satires of their street clothing.

The redhead was in a black vinyl cocktail waitress micromini, with a deep u bodice complete with white frilly lace, fishnet stockings, and vicious, six inch, ankle strap high heels. Her arms were tied behind her back with black wire, her ankles crossed and likewise tied. In her mouth was a black leather prod gag.

The blonde was in a black micromini skirt, starched, open white shirt, bulging black bra, flesh thigh highs, and severe six inch, ankle-strap high heels. She was tied and gagged with silver duct tape.

The  black haired student was in a deep v-necked cheerleader’s uniform,bandage wrapping a ball gag in her pried-open mouth, with more bandage around her crossed ankles and crossed wrists behind her.

But even they were forgotten when Michelle reappeared at exactly three in a half-cup black lace bustier, most of her butterballs thrust out, her aureoles in plain sight and her nipples stimulated.

The matching thong barely covered her tuft, but did an excellent job of keeping the whirring dildo and thrusting butt-plug deep in her orifices.

Even these hardened perverts couldn’t help but marvel at how she remained upright on black strap high heels that were little more than a point shoe platform and a six inch needle -- painful wire-thin straps holding down her toes, instep, and heels.

If anything, her face was more beautiful than ever, especially with the thin cleave gag so deep in her mouth that her lips were stretched to their widest possible length.

Her body was seemed even firmer and fuller, since her arms wrenched painfully behind with wires at her thumbs and elbows.

The blonde and brunette assistants were on either side of her as the host stood to the side and said softly...

"Bidding will start at ten million ? "


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