The Statement of William Shelton 2

by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2015 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; F/f; MF/f; naked; basement; bond; cuffs; rope; susp; gag; tape; domme; bdsm; whip; torment; video; voy; hum, 3-way; oral; sex; anal; climax; cons/nc; XX

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Author's note: Some words, including 'hugely' occur far too often in the story. The story is intended to portray the written version of a verbal narrative, and the character "talks that way." The author understands the value of variety in written and spoken words, and practices it. Hugely.

Part 2

Bob came in, walked to stand near Marcie, leaned behind her to presumably take off the handcuffs. Her hands were in front of her a second later, rubbing her wrists where the cuffs had chafed her a little. We all got up, Bob leading, Marcie quietly and meekly right behind him, naked as hell, and me following at a usable distance. Her butt was as incredible as her front. Hugely tight, tanned all over, a dream. Interestingly enough, no tan lines at all on her. Walking down stairs was not easy when your cock was so hard you thought you were going to faint from unavailability of blood, but I managed. Down to the basement we went.

When we got down there Bob waved at me to start filming, which I did. I could see the cameras set up for a spot in the middle of the basement; a few halogen lights were sitting on the ground around it, not turned on yet. Two ropes were hanging down from the ceiling where it looked like Marcie was destined to be, about five feet apart, with clips at the ends. The ropes ran up to eye bolts in the ceiling beams and back to what appeared to be a ratchet on the wall behind her. Some eye bolts were driven into the concrete floor as well and there were ropes tied to them, with loops for Marcie's ankles at the end of each.

On went the halogens, then he had something in his hand, some sort of big thick leather cuff, and he was wrapping it around one of Marcie's compliant wrists. It had two straps, which Bob strapped on real tight around her wrists, and the leather of the cuff itself extended a little up the back of her hand where she couldn't reach it, ending in a chrome metal loop. Finishing with that one, he grabbed the other one off the table and started on her other wrist. I'd be freaking out hard. Marcie looked like she'd be yawning if she had a hand free.

As expected, once the second wrist-cuff-whatever was securely attached, Bob had her stand between the two ropes hanging down, and then he reached out, grabbed the two hanging ropes and attached the clips to the rings on her wrists, spreading her arms. It wasn't tight; her hands were just above head level. Then Bob grabbed one of the loops on the ground and waved his hand to get her to stick the appropriate ankle out there. She complained at first that it was too wide, that Daria wasn't here yet, but after a glare from Bob stretched her foot to him. The rope went around her ankle and then he tightened the loop up, then he did the same to the other, leaving her ankles about four feet apart. Marcie wasn't happy but Bob didn't fix anything, and tied up as she was it was too late for Marcie to do anything about it. She sighed then settled in to endure it.

Bob went back to the ratchet and started cranking on it. Marcie's arms went up and out until they were pointing straight toward the eye bolts. Then as Bob continued, Marcie's heels came off the ground. Marcie at that point got real mad, told him no. She realized things would be that way once Daria got there, but Daria wasn't here yet and she didn't want to do that to her shoulders so soon. Bob ran the ratchet back down until her feet were fully on the concrete floor and there was just a little slack in her arms.

A minute or two later Bob's cell phone went off. He took a second to answer it then said "Daria's here." Just looking straight at Marcie he cranked the ratchet until she was again standing on her tip-toes. Marcie looked unhappy but said nothing. He headed upstairs, leaving Marcie hugely naked and stretched out in front of me. I will remember that sight for the rest of my life. There she was, grapefruit-sized breasts hanging firmly, trimmed tan bush between her wide apart legs, long hair falling straight down her back, resolute look on her beautiful kissable face, unhappy about her condition but unafraid and unbowed. My cock felt like it was about to explode. She was so beautiful she could stop a heart. I would have given anything to quench that raging fire in my pants in the cool area between her legs. I wanted to go up and touch her, hell, I wanted to screw her like Bob did and dump about four gallons of cum into her. Fortunately Bob and Daria choked off that chain of thought by arriving.

Daria was about two inches shorter than Marcie, a bit broader but it was hard to be sure, dark black hair. When she took off her jacket she had a thin, hugely tight blue body suit on, thin enough to show her nipples clearly pushing through it, a black nylon micro-mini skirt, and out of her bag she pulled out four-inch clear Plexiglas hooker heels and switched them out with the flats on her feet. Then she walked right up to Marcie, stopping just in front of the naked, suspended girl. The camcorder, off to Marcie's side and a little to her front, was catching it all. Bob cleared out of the view of the camera, leaving just Daria and Marcie.

"Hi Marcie!" Daria began, glee and malice dripping in her voice. "Good to see you here."

"Likewise, I'm sure." was Marcie's sounding-unruffled reply.

Daria circled Marcie, inspecting her ties and her naked body. "You really are more gorgeous than people say, you know."

"Thank you." was Marcie's response. Coming back to the front of Marcie, Daria reached out for one of Marcie's breasts. Marcie leaned back to avoid that, and Daria frowned and muttered under her breath. "We'll fix that, won't we?" She walked back to the ratchet and started cranking. Marcie cried out no, promised to be good, pleaded with Daria to not do that but Daria kept cranking. Marcie's toes lost contact with the ground almost immediately, but Daria kept cranking until Marcie's legs were as tightly stretched as her arms and nowhere near the floor. It seemed Daria didn't stop until she was meeting some real resistance, then looking straight at Marcie, went one more click on the ratchet. Marcie gave a squeal of pain, but couldn't do anything else about it.

Daria went back to the front of Marcie, and with a big, shit-eating grin slowly reached out again for Marcie's breast, who this time was so tightly suspended that she couldn't move an inch, and was too scared to move if she could have. Daria caressed them, rubbed Marcie's nipples, all the time telling her how beautiful she looked and how good she felt. Marcie just hung there and said nothing, afraid to piss off Daria even more. Daria's hands roamed freely over Marcie's body, along that magnificent butt, across her face, cheeks, and ears, wherever she wanted. And of course through her public hair and into her snatch more than once.

Daria went back to her bag and Marcie visibly stiffened when she withdrew a long and wicked-looking flogger. More grin, Daria walked back and had Marcie hold it in her mouth while she stepped behind the stretched girl and played with her breasts from behind her, rubbing and pinching and pulling Marcie's nipples. Then she came back and pulled the whip from Marcie's mouth.

"Are you ready for this?" Daria asked, a laugh in her voice.

"Yes." was Marcie's whispered reply. Daria drew her hand back and landed a fierce blow across Marcie's breasts. Marcie cried out and shook what little she was able as Daria informed her coldly, "I am your mistress now, slut. Any time you speak to me and you don't call me that I will give you a harder taste than before. Do you understand?"

"Yes... mistress." Marcie hurriedly added.

It turned into a scene from a bad girls-in-prison movie. Daria, it turned out, was really into the dominatrix and whipping thing, and Marcie could hardly move, much less get away. Daria would walk around, lashing Marcie with the whip. It left bluish marks where it hit. I learned later Daria had soaked some grape juice into it, so it would leave marks and look like she was hitting Marcie harder than she actually was. It looked like Daria was hitting her hard enough, because after about ten minutes Marcie was almost blubbering and begging Daria to stop. After a little of this Daria said she was tired of a slut who couldn't take her lessons in silence, walked over to the table, got a strip of duct tape from the roll there, and with Marcie pleading no ran it across her mouth and pressed it down, gagging her. Marcie's eyes got real wide at that point.

Things seemed to get out of control after that. Both Bob and I could see that Daria was swinging much harder now that all Marcie could do is grunt and cry out through the gag. Our eyes met, and I wondered if Bob was going to interfere, but he nodded a no to me, and I decided to trust him. They never did tell me the exact plan, maybe this was all the way Marcie had agreed to, and there was nothing wrong. But even if that were true, if it was acting, Marcie was playing the terrified girl tied up and having the shit whipped hard out of her without mercy part real well. She kept looking to Bob, who didn't do anything but watch. I didn't know if it was part of the scene or real, but I knew if she looked at me with her eyes begging I'd stop things. But she never did. Daria kept whipping Marcie, the hard crack of the whip against her skin, Daria's taunts, Marcie's muffled cries, until Marcie just stopped reacting. Daria hit her about six times after that, all good hard strikes, but Marcie never did respond. So with that they decided to move on to the next scene.

Marcie's legs were untied from the floor and reattached to ropes about eight feet in front of her, then her arms were lowered. The effect was that she was hanging by her arms and legs, with all lmbs out at an angle, with her head and trunk at about the same level as Bob's crotch. Sort of like an upside-down saw horse. The duct tape came off. Marcie whispered for some water, which Bob gently provided. Marcie drank it, swallowed, and nodded that she was ready to continue.

Daria brought in two footstools and placed them in front of Marcie's head. Marcie, hanging like that her head was way back, and standing on the footstools, Daria pushed her crotch into Marcie's face and told her to lick real good, or they would whip her some more. Marcie got started right away.

After a few minutes Bob, who had stripped nude, walked up between her legs and with a big smile slid into Marcie. She stiffened, but there was still nothing she could do as Bob fucked her. She was very intent on not pissing off Daria, so she continued to desperately slurp at Daria while Bob ran in and out of her, sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes hard, sometimes pushing her head into Daria's crotch, sometimes quite hard.

Daria must be really easy to make orgasm, or was very turned on by what she had already done to Marcie, because after about five minutes she clinched up, gave a cry, grabbed Marcie's head and shoved it hard into her own crotch and held it as she came. Bob used this as an excuse to pound furiously into Marcie, which didn't do her neck or breathing much good. When Daria finally released and stepped down from the footstools, Bob stopped and asked me to move one of the cameras in for a close-up.

The angle was tight, Marcie's head, neck, a little of her chest, and about three feet in front of her. Her head was lolled way back. Bob walked up to her, put the head of his cock right up against her mouth, and told me to watch this. He was about eight inches long, it seemed, and he pushed into Marcie's mouth and past it into her throat. You could see his cock swelling her neck as he pushed in and out of her throat. I just about lost it and came in my pants. I had never seen this before, it was kinky beyond imagination. Marcie was quiet, just concentrating on not gagging as he went in and out of her, slowly fucking her down her throat. The sight of the outline of his cock moving up and down her throat was mesmerizing, I just couldn't look away. I imagined it must be hugely difficult for Marcie to breathe, but she managed.

Bob told me to take the camera back to its original position and keep going. Daria, off camera, now wore a wicked-looking strap-on, but she took one of the footstools, placed it near Marcie's tush, sat on it, gave me and the camera a wicked smile, like "watch this!" and leaned her head to Marcie's crotch. With a loud slurping sound she began returning the favor to Marcie. When she first started touching her Marcie freaked and choked on Bob, who pulled out, gave her time to adjust, then started his cock in and out of her throat again. It actually was sort of ideal; with Marcie hanging like that her head was pretty much already in the correct position.

Then after a while Daria stood up. Marcie could not see Daria and didn't know what she was doing or wearing, but Bob paused for a second out of Marcie's mouth and Daria let her know. It was incredible film, Marcie getting fucked at both ends, the bulge from Bob's member running up and down her throat, Daria having an enthusiastic good time at the other end Marcie fighting desperately at times for air. Then finally Bob had enough, and he pulled out, cum leaping from his cock, hitting Marcie's open mouth and running down her face and into her hair. Bob told me to zoom in on her head and hair, do a ten-count then fade it out. I did. After that, they lowered Marcie to the floor. They completely released her and laid her on a sofa that was off to the side. Bob was very, very gentle with her, asking her how she was, comforting her, telling her how fantastic she looked, how hot she was, how much he loved it and loved her. Daria was rubbing a cream into the whip strikes on Marcie, who pulled away as the lotion was first applied, but it did magic and she just relaxed as more of it was rubbed in after that.

Daria kissed Marcie good bye on the forehead. Marcie was still recovering and barely murmured a response. Daria thanked Bob very much, said she had a wonderful time and would really be happy to do more of this if Bob ever wanted. By Marcie's face she *really* didn't like that thought but only made a face. Daria, her stuff already packed, showed herself out.

Marcie, still not moving much at all after her experience, lay with her head in Bob's lap as he ran his hands through her hair. "Did I do good?" She asked. "Did you get what you wanted?"

Bob smiled and looked tenderly down at her. "Everything and more. You were wonderful. You were perfect."

Marcie smiled. You could just barely hear her say "good" then she closed her eyes and relaxed in his lap. From her steady breathing she was asleep.

After a few minutes Bob gently settled Marcie's head down onto a pillow and draped a blanket over her. He shut off all the halogen lights and had us quietly move all the camera stuff back upstairs to his bedroom. He threw all the pillows that was on the bed in the center of the bed and then locked handcuffs to the corners of the headboard and footboard. He then tied a set of ropes a little above halfway to the side rails. Once all that was done we went back down to the basement. Bob woke up Marcie, told her he wasn't quite done, and wanted to do a little more upstairs. She grumbled at first. He asked if she would do it for him, and she relented. A little groggy, quite a bit warn out, and by appearances not fully awake, she went with us upstairs.

When she saw the configuration on the bed and realized what was coming, she got fearful and asked, begged really, Bob not to do this. But he talked with her and worked with her, asking her to do it this one time for him, until she gave in. I fired up the cameras as she lay face down on the bed, the pillows under her hips. Bob quickly attached the cuffs to her wrists and ratcheted them before she could chicken out. I could see where this was going now, with her cute tanned bottom up in the air. The ropes on the sides went just above her knees, pulling them wide apart, then the bottom set to her ankles. She had her eyes closed, knowing and dreading what was coming, but she would do it, for him. He tore off a strip of duct tape and Marcie didn't fight or complain, knowing it wouldn't do any good and it was already way too late, as he pressed it down around her lips.

He stripped and climbed between her knees, a large bottle of lube in his hand. Lots of it went into the crack of her butt, and he massaged more of it, well, you know where. Her eyes alternated being closed in tiredness, closed because she was scrunching them closed because it hurt or she didn't like what was happening, to every once in a while wide open as he stuck a finger in her or something. The camera was getting it all. Then Bob pretty much poured the oil over his still-hard cock. He ran it up and down her butt, terrorizing her, she knew what he was going to do and knew she had no way to stop him.

After a few minutes of that, including several false alarms when he made her think he was starting into her, he poured more oil on him, even more on her, then put his member to the appropriate place. Marcie screwed up her face because she knew it was going to hurt. She fought it, wiggling what pitifully little she could, shaking and squealed in pain as he slowly pushed inside of her, but she was tied up tight and along for the ride (or was that along as the ride?) on this one. He slowly pushed all the way into her, pulled out, put lots more lube on her and him, and did her again. And again, and again, for about thirty times. After about five times she was just lying there without reacting. He had chosen to do this to her, it was happening to her, she couldn't stop the invasion, and might as well just endure. It was what Bob wanted, and she knew he wouldn't stop now even if she begged, which gagged she could not, so she just lay still and let it happen, even though they both knew she hated it, over and over and over and over again., until Bob and the camera had enough.

He finally pulled out with a wet plop. Marcie was spent. Bob uncuffed, untied, and un-gagged her, and when he rolled her over on her back. She complained bitterly that she'd had enough, but he finally talked her into it, this was the last one, this was all he wanted to do, after this when she was untied it was all over. So she lay still and was unresisting as limbs were stretched toward the corners of the bed and cuffed to each. The mid-rope went back around her just above her knees, pulling her knees apart, exposing her almost obscenely.

Bob cleaned himself off really, really well, all of it in the sight of Marcie, so she knew nothing was going from point B to point A. He pulled off a bit more tape and gagged her again, which she didn't like but was far too tired and far too tied to resist. He poured a little more lube on himself and worked more of it into her, then slowly took his time in and out of her, the cameras catching it all. I wanted so bad to be Bob, to be sliding my member in and out of that velvet. I wanted to pull my hard-on out of my pants and play with it, to relieve some of that pressure that was killing me. I was going to go home and jerk off for six straight hours, then punch a hole through the wall with how hard I was going to come.

Then something happened I couldn't believe. Bob came off her, and looked to me. "Bill? Take off all your clothes." Marcie gave a horrific start, very, very unhappy at that. Bob explained, he wanted me naked and to run my cock a few times across her slit, make the viewers think that after all this another person was starting in on Marcie. Marcie was very unhappy about this, but he looked at her and with a loud voice told her to be still. After a few seconds, she did. I told him I would, but only that. Marcie sagged visibly in relief to hear it.

I didn't know. I'd wanted all night in the worst way to have Marcie. Hell, like most other guys in school I'dve been quite happy to do her for the better part of a year. If I did this, would Bob maybe let me go further? If I did this, would I stop? I didn't know. Marcie watched me with dread in her eyes as my shirt, shoes, and pants came off, then I climbed onto the bed. Marcie had a very scared look in her eyes, then pleading. not knowing either if I was really going to, or even could stop. I looked at her, then took my cock and ran it deliberately once, twice, three, four times up and down her slit. I could feel her pussy as I rubbed over that part of her slit, wet, moist, mine for the taking. It'd feel so, so hugely good. I was dying to push in. This chance obviously was never going to come again. I leaned over her, my cock pushing slightly into her outer folds, placed my hands at her sides, making it look like I was about to plunge full depth into her. Was I?

Bob called out. "Great. Hold for a ten-count while we fade." I did, and then he faded and it looked like he stopped the cameras, but the running light on front of the camera was still on. I didn't understand that, but whatever.

I expected him to start for Marcie to let her go. I was going to regret this for a lifetime, but if I plunged in Bob would beat me to a pulp. But Bob didn't. He started for the door. The look on Marcie's face was beyond description. He paused halfway through the door. "Bill, you've been really wonderful tonight, and you deserve a reward. I'm going to be downstairs cleaning up for at least half an hour. Just let yourself out when you're done." And he was gone. Marcie screamed at him for a second through the gag and shook violently, but he was gone and she was helpless. And someone not Bob was naked and poised between her legs, and his cock was already in position and wet from him rubbing it in her pussy.

I could hear her mmmphing though the gag over and over, "No. No. No." I looked at her and she was begging me desperately with her eyes, please don't do this to me. But she was naked and tied up quite wonderfully, her pussy was wet and glistening, I'd already felt how warm and smooth like silk she felt, and a hard cock has very little if any conscience.

This part contains non-consensual sex (For an Alternate ending see part three)

I leaned forward, started to position myself. Yeah, this chance was never going to happen again. You only live once. She threw herself violently from side to side what little she could, which wasn't much, but it had to be hugely painful on her ankles and wrists in handcuffs. I reached up and grabbed her nipples and squeezed real hard, as hard as I could. She after a few seconds started thrashing for a different reason, then after a long count I stopped and let her go and she lay still, afraid I was going to hurt her again.

"Marcie, I'm going to do this to you and we both know you can't stop me. I don't want you to hurt yourself, so why don't you just lay still and let it happen? No need to hurt yourself. It won't change anything."

She glared at me, and I watched on her face as the fear gave way to hatred which gave way to resignation. I leaned forward and sunk full length into her. It was everything I had thought it, velvet smooth, tight, and wonderful. I couldn't believe how much I had missed this. I had to find another girlfriend. She lay still underneath me, the situation far beyond her control, unwilling to be hurt any more. I just went straight for the end run, and ten minutes later I tensed up, slammed in hard and shot what felt like five gallons into her. As the madness cleared from my mind, I could see she was crying, from the looks of things been crying the whole time. I started to sputter apologies as I climbed off of her. She just rolled her eyes at me. I was dressed in what seemed to be only seconds and was gone, out the door, running from what I had done.

The next morning I heard the buzz and saw the police cars at Bob's house, and went there, heart filled with dread. I found out I was right. Marcie earlier that morning in the kitchen of Bob's house had stabbed Bob in the chest with a steak knife about fifty times. She was arrested and he was very hugely dead.

End of Statement


Marcie was put on trial. They'd found Bob's stash, and it was a sensation. She was convicted of second degree murder with extenuating circumstances. She was seventeen at the time, and since the pictures and videos were found and used in the trial, including the one we made that night, she was put on probation and court-ordered psychiatric counseling for six years, but after that if the shrink ok'd it would be free. My part in all this was very much part of the record, and my life turned into hell. Once the trial was done the airline transferred Marcie's mom and her somewhere very far away and between heartbeats they were gone. Pretty much nobody ever heard from them again.

The tape and what I had done at the end of it (no, Bob didn't shut off the camera) became part of the record. It was obvious that Marcie wasn't willing for my part. I was charged with what I had done and will bear certain labels that I guess I deserve for the rest of my life. Maybe someday Dad will find an attorney and a judge to seal the records, but none in this town are willing. Barbara, Marcie's best friend, correctly identified, as she put it, that if I had just managed to keep my worthless cock in its place Marcie was about through with Bob anyway, that just offering her to me would have been it, and she would have finally left Bob, so he'd still be alive and she wouldn't be dealing with having murdered someone.

Needless to say exactly zero of the girls in town would have anything to do with me. Barbara's mom and Marcie's mom worked for the same airline, and Barbara told me Marcie was doing ok, considering, and was just fine and would someday maybe stop having nightmares and forget about that night and the next day. After about three weeks of this, and more than one death threat, my family packed up as well and moved somewhere very far away. Worst of all is having to face my parents, my father, and especially my mother, after all of this. It was a huge long time before I could look her in the eye, and I can still see the hurt and disappointment in hers. No, it wasn't worth it at all.

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