Chapter 6
The blast of cold water nearly knocks you over as the hose is aimed at your
bruised tits. You remember the pain of Jerome's long fingers digging into them,
and you try to cover them with your arms.
"Hold her down" the man with the hose orders.
As the other men pin you down, you notice the hose is unusually thick, like the
kind used to hose down parking lots. That would account for the enormous
pressure. You find yourself on your back, spread eagle on the floor, with one
man holding your arms down over your head, and the other two holding your ankles
down with your legs spread wide apart. The cold water stings as it is directed
between your legs. The stream is held at a low angle, and jets its way into
your sore cunt. You squirm, and try to avoid this new assault, but it's no use.
When your pussy has been thoroughly cleaned, the heavy flow of water is applied
to your torso, and even your face, nearly drowning you.
"Turn her over."
The spray is then concentrated on your tortured asshole, renewing the
excruciating pain. You struggle to turn yourself away, but the men succeed in
holding you in place. Drenched, you wipe the water from your face as Susan
suffers the same fate.
You and Susan are left sitting on the floor as the men smoke and drink beer.
You look to Susan to comfort her, but she's too far gone.
When the men have finished their break, you're both given an outfit to put on.
Appropriately, yours is a sexy, black bustier and black stockings. You are also
given a pair of black stiletto heels, which are at least one size too small.
Your feet instantly begin to cramp.
Susan is made to put on a catholic girl's school uniform, but just the shirt and
blouse. Her dark brown nipples are clearly visible through the thin, white top,
and the short, plaid skirt barely covers her ass. As the two of you are forced
to parade in front of the men, you can see glimpses of her pussy hair as the
skirt flits back and forth.
The men obviously notice too, and they decide to rectify the problem. Susan is
laid back on the table, and her pubic hair is burned off with a cigarette
lighter. The smell of singeing hair fills the open space, and judging by her
screams, they're clearing it off down to the skin.
"What do you think of that?" You are asked as you are turned to look at the
poor girl's bare pussy.
You don't reply, but you're relieved you keep your own pussy lips neatly shaved.
At long last, other cars begin showing up. First two, then another, then
several more. Within a span of 30 minutes, about 20 new men show up, and a
couple of rough looking women.
