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Prologue 01: The Truce is Made

Carlo Benito didn’t want to make the truce, but something had to be done to stop the killing. The five gangs were dropping each other’s members on an almost daily basis and the cops didn’t seem to care. One of the West Forty-Nines said that he had information that the cops were waiting for them to kill each other off before they stepped in and took down the winner.

A truce was absolutely necessary, and this time it had to be a truce that could be enforced. There had been truces before between some of the gangs, but they had only lasted a few months, or even just a few weeks. This had to be a truce that held and it had to be a truce among all five gangs.

The leaders of the five gangs met at a neutral spot, a church located at the intersection of the gangs’ territories. One of the priests there had helped negotiate the meeting. It didn’t take long to work out the details of a truce. Boundaries were already set. The five areas were culturally different. So, as much of an issue as that might be in other parts of the city, it wasn’t here.

This wasn’t a war about territory under solid control where the people living there owed allegiance to a particular gang. This war was about illicit business. This was a war over where you could sell your product, whatever it was. There was also concern about being able to move through each others’ areas without triggering conflict.

After many hours of discussion, an agreement was reached on exact boundaries; on free passage through each others’ territories; and most importantly, that none of the five would do anything or make any sales within the other gangs’ territories.

That simple agreement would bring peace. The problem was that none of the gang leaders trusted each other. Emmanuel Gomez, from the North Thirties, said that he wouldn’t believe the others were sincere unless they swore on their mothers’ graves.

“My mother’s still alive,” Carlo responded angrily. “You will just have to take my word at face value.”

The response to that was laughter from the other four gang chiefs. Then one of them– Juanita from the Brookman Queens– said, “Then, maybe you should swear on your sister.”

“What the hell does that mean?” growled Rick, head of the skinhead gang called “The Righteous Ones.”

“We all have sisters,” Juanita said firmly. “... sisters that we have kept out of the action.” She looked around the table and said, “What if our little sisters were the guarantee of the truce. If you break the truce, your sister gets punished by whichever of us was wronged.” She looked around the room and said, “And all of us make sure that the guarantor is turned over as promised... or it is four against one when the truce breaks. You break the truce, your little sister is your enemy’s for twenty-four hours. She comes back to you alive and not permanently injured or permanently marked, but punished in whatever fashion the wronged gang decrees.”

There was silence in the room for several minutes. Then Rick said slowly, almost in a whisper, “I swear by my sister.”

Juanita answered him with, “I swear by my sister.”

Emmanuel said it in Spanish, but then added the English, “I swear by my sister.”

Morris took a deep breath and held it for what seemed like forever. Then in a whooshing gust of breath, he said, “I swear by my sister.”

That left only Carlo. He stared out at the others, but he wasn’t seeing them. Instead, he was seeing the face of his little sister, Felicia. He had kept her safe all of these years and even kept her out of the gang life. She was almost eighteen... almost a woman. Could he risk her? Could he put her forth to be punished if one of the Knights broke the truce? She was smiling at him, her dark hair framing her olive-hued face. He couldn’t bring himself to look into her innocent brown eyes.

A loud cough from one of the other leaders brought his mind back to the table and the issue at hand. Four leaders looked at him in silence. He opened his mouth four or five times, but nothing came out. Then finally in a very tense, almost whisper, he said, “I swear by my sister.”

Prologue 02: The Truce is Broken

The cops couldn’t figure out what had happened. Suddenly there was a patch of the city with almost no daily violence. The normal illicit activities continued and even flourished, but there was no gang on gang violence. Evidently, Juanita had found a way to make the truce hold. And the other gangs in the city weren’t quite ready to take on the five united gangs. So it went for over a year. Everything was smooth between the gangs. ... Then came the tagging.

The symbol of the Knights was a large K with the lower leg of the K formed by a lightning bolt that extended above and below the K itself. Often it would be enclosed in a diamond. That symbol appeared throughout the Knights’ territory, and sometimes on their product, but it did not appear anywhere in the other four gangs’ territories... until that night.

Someone in Knights’ colors was seen tagging a building on the corner of Willmont Avenue and north Thirtieth Street– nearly in the middle of North Thirty territory. Whoever it was, ran very fast, but not fast enough for their face not to be seen briefly by several North Thirties. Besides wearing the Knights’ colors, the tagger had the characteristic lightning bolt tattooed on their left cheek. He was definitely a Knight. The truce had been broken.

Somehow, after tagging the building, the tagger was able to run back to Knights’ territory. At one point, the six Thirties chasing him almost caught up with him, but when they turned the corner, there was no one there except some sweet young thing carrying groceries home from the store. If they hadn’t been otherwise engaged, they might have stopped for some action, but their minds were too set on catching this Knight who dared to tag an area in the heart of North Thirty territory. When they explained what had happened to their leader, he yelled that their minds were always on pussy and if they had just ignored the girl they might have caught the tagger.

If it had been a murder or something like that, bloodshed would have followed bloodshed that night, but Emmanuel said that they would demand the tagger be turned over to them or they would invoke the guarantee and demand Carlo’s little sister for punishment. He gave Carlo twenty-four hours to deliver the tagger... or his little sister... at the corner of North Thirtieth and Rail Street, the border between the Knights’ and North Thirty’s territories.

To say that Carlo was angry is a great understatement. He was beyond furious. He demanded that whoever had been so stupid so as to break the truce in this fashion step forward. But no one did. The trucebreaker, whoever he was, remained silent.

Felicia, however, spoke out. “You have to turn me over,” she said firmly. “It is the only way to keep the truce.”

“No!” her brother screamed. “Don’t you know what they will do to you?! You’re a woman and they are men. They will hurt you and use you and then send you back in the most disgraceful way possible.”

He didn’t add that he knew this because that was exactly what he and his friends would do to another gang’s guarantor if they had broken the truce.

“You knew this could happen when you made the truce,” she said. “You have kept me locked up on a shelf since I was sixteen years old. I’m still practically a virgin because everyone is afraid to touch me. But I am a grown woman now. I know what I have to do. Tomorrow, I will walk across Rail Street and give myself to the North Thirties. I am strong. I will survive this. It must be done.”

Carlo looked at her in silence. There was nothing he could say. Everything that she had said was the truth. Finally, he said angrily, “So be it. But if... no when... I catch this trucebreaker, he will be punished ten times as severely as you will be.”

Felicia replied, “So be it.”

Chapter One: Felicia’s Story, Ready to be Punished

It’s too late now to back out. It was too late as soon as I sprayed the Diamond Knight on the side of that building in the middle of North Thirty territory. I wonder what they would have done to me had they caught me then? They almost did. I was barely ahead of them when I ran around the corner.

I intentionally wore slightly over-sized jeans so I could rapidly slip them off. I was wearing my dress like a shirt, tucked into the jeans... and no panties. The dress was part of my disguise. The no panties was... just because. As soon as I ran around the corner, I slipped off the jeans and tucked them into the two grocery store bags along with the hat and can of spray paint.

I quickly rubbed the eyeliner lightning bolt off my cheek with a makeup remover wipe and put it in the bag. When the North Thirties came running past, I gave them a nervous smile and looked down like I was afraid of being caught by so many men while I was alone on the sidewalk, which I actually was.

My smile became much wider when they ran past yelling things like, “Later, Chica. We’ll be back.” I forced myself to walk slowly for two more blocks before jogging quickly back into Knights’ territory. Then all I had to do was wait.

This is what I was waiting for. This is what I had been fantasizing about for weeks– no, for months. Momma never understood why I had become such a disobedient young woman. “You were always such a well-behaved little girl,” she told me so many times in the past year. She would scold me and then say, “What has gotten into you since you turned eighteen?”

She would then take me downstairs to the laundry room in the basement of our apartment. “Do you think you are too old for me to spank?” she would say as she pulled me through the door. “It is almost as if you want me to punish you,” she would add angrily.

If the laundry room was empty when we got there– which it always was– she would push me over the big laundry sink and pull down my jeans and panties. I always kept my body held close to the sink when she did that, not because that was what she wanted, but because I didn’t want her to see how wet I was. Also, I wanted the edge of the sink to rub against my clit while she punished me. Once I was bent over with my hands grabbing the top of the washing machine on the other side of the sink, she would start spanking me with that wooden spatula that she never used on food, only on my ass.

“I am going to keep going until you say you are sorry and won’t ever do it again,” she would grunt at me as she was slamming that spatula into my ass. She never counted. She kept going until you broke.

I would hold out until I couldn’t bear it anymore. But it wasn’t the pain I couldn’t bear. I would hold out until it got to the point where I couldn’t hold back my orgasm any longer. Then I would scream, “No more, Momma, no more. I promise I will be good. I promise I will never do it again.”

She would always give me one more, really hard, smack after that. Then she would pull the timer out of her apron and set it on one of the washing machines. “You stay there bent over that tub until the timer goes off,” she would say. “Then you can come back up to the apartment.”

“But somebody might see me,” I would always whine, and she would answer, “Good! Then they will see what a bad daughter you are.”

As she left, she would lock the door on her way out. She cleaned the hallways and public areas in the apartment building for a portion of our rent, so she had keys to places like the laundry room. I secretly wished she would leave the door unlocked so someone could come in.

As I lay across the top of the sink with my hands full out over my head, I would imagine all of the tenants standing in the doorway. I could see them watching as I backed up enough so that I could lay my shoulders on the edge of the sink and then bring my hands down so that I could rub myself to a wonderful orgasm.

Chapter Two: Felicia’s Story, Punished by the Men of North Thirty

Carlo was very upset. He was almost crying and kept saying he was sorry as we walked to the corner. I was wearing a bright yellow sundress. Momma hated that dress because I always wore it without a bra and because you could see my well-developed ass through it as I walked. She would have hated it even more if she knew that I normally wore it without panties.

Today I was wearing panties beneath the dress. They were a light yellow so they wouldn’t show through the thin fabric. They weren’t a thong, but they weren’t granny panties either. I think the official name for them is high cut. There was a thin strip of fabric between the front triangle and the back. The back was smaller than my smallest bikini, and the front was only big enough to cover my carefully trimmed bush... but it wasn’t a thong.

The clock in the church tower rang twelve and Carlo said slowly, “It’s time.”

“I know,” I said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Be strong,” he said as I started walking across the street. Once I reached the other curb, I was in North Thirty territory.

Emmanuel met me as soon as I stepped up onto the sidewalk. “You won’t be needing this,” he said as he grabbed the front of my dress and ripped it from my body. He was surprised at how easily it pulled apart, but I wasn’t. I had spent over an hour last night with a seam ripper, weakening the seams so the dress would easily pull off my body.

He then grabbed for my panties. I hadn’t done anything to them because they were so light and wispy. Despite their fragile appearance, however, they withstood all his efforts to rip them from my body.

“Slide them down,” I said very softly and he pulled downward with his hand. The panties didn’t exactly slide off my body, but they did come down to my ankles. I stepped out of them before he could let go of them with his hand. I was now standing naked before the North Thirties and before the Knights who had gathered to watch from Knight territory.

I knew that Momma and many of my family and friends were also watching from the roof of the apartment building a few blocks away. I heard a couple of gasps from the Knights who were seeing my naked body for the first time. I wasn’t the little girl they thought I was. I had ample breasts and a more than ample rear end. I was a woman.

“Come with me,” Emmanuel ordered almost angrily and I walked slowly behind him. I sort of wished that he had told me to take off my shoes. I was wearing the highest heels I had. But it wasn’t because they were even higher than my fuck-me red heels. They were the only ones that matched the yellow of the dress. He began walking faster and faster and I struggled to keep up with him.

As I walked, I had to put my feet in line with one another to keep my balance. Using a model’s walk caused my hips to sway, but it was the only way I could keep up with him. As my body jiggled and bounced, I felt like a whore displaying her wares, but then I guess that is exactly what I was. I had set all of this up so that I would be used and punished by the North Thirties.

Once we stepped through the doors of the old school building, Emmanuel growled, “Leave the shoes at the door,” and walked down a hallway. I had to nearly run to keep up with him as he suddenly turned and slammed open a set of double doors.

It was the old gym. Thirty-five or forty or maybe even fifty or more young men in North Thirty’s colors sat on the low bleachers. There were an equal number of North Thirty girls with them. Since it was an elementary school gym, the floor was some sort of tile rather than wood, and there were different colored lines drawn across the floor to outline courts for basketball, volleyball, and who knows what else. He took me to the middle of the room and pointed to a large dot painted in the center of a large circle.

“On your knees,” he ordered and I dropped to my knees on the hard tile.

“We have decided that we will give back ten times for what was given us,” He said loudly and everyone sitting on the low bleachers cheered loudly. “And we will start by seeing how well Carlo’s little sister sucks cock.”

A group of men stood up and formed a line behind Emmanuel. “I’m first,” he said as he lowered the zipper on his jeans. He didn’t look that big, but it’s hard to tell when a prick is totally limp.

“It’s your job to make it stand up for you,” he said with a sneer. “Maybe if you look sexy while you do it, the others will be ready for you when you get to them.”

I took his flaccid penis into my mouth and began sucking on it like it was a piece of candy. I could feel it starting to stiffen and push over my tongue. As soon as I felt it touch the back of my throat, I knew that it was a mistake to take the whole thing into my mouth while it was soft. With my face pressed up against Emmanuel’s jeans and held tight there by his hands, there was no place for his growing cock to go but down my throat.

I had tried deep-throating my dildo, but it had always gagged me. Maybe that was because it was too hard, or maybe I was pushing it in wrong, or maybe I just wasn’t ready. In any case, I didn’t gag as I felt Emmanuel’s prick slide past the back of my tongue. I drew my head back a little and he let me. His prick slid up slightly on my tongue and I was able to grab a quick breath of air through my nose. Then he slid me back forward.

With the help of his hands pulling on my head, I was able to once again slide his prick down my throat. I pulled back again and grabbed a breath and he once again pulled me forward. It didn’t take long for us to get in sync. I was pulling back and breathing, he was pulling forward and forcing his prick down my throat. This wasn’t a blow job, I was being face-fucked.

As I tried to keep from suffocating, I could hear people hooting and jeering. “Look at that,” one female voice cried out. “She’s dripping on the floor like a slut in heat.”

I was, and I knew it. I could hear Emmanuel starting to grunt loudly with each thrust into my face. Then I heard another woman call out, “Look at those ass cheeks quivering. She’s going to pop before he does.”

That was enough to take me over the top. I lost it and started ramming myself as hard as I could into Emmanuel’s crotch. He pulled out and spurted all over my face just as I screamed out in orgasm.

“That don’t look like punishment,” one of the North Thirty called out. “She’s liking it.”

“She won’t like it by the time we’re done with her,” Emmanuel said harshly. Then he called out “Next!”

As the next man was stepping up, Emmanuel leaned down and said in a loud whisper, “You’d better give him as good a ride as you gave me or I will have the girls paddle your ass while you are doing it.

I felt like saying, “Please do it,” but I figured I better concentrate on getting through everything that they had already planned for me.

The next man’s cock was already half-stiff as he pulled it out of his jeans. I didn’t think I could survive ten face-fuckings, so I immediately pulled the tip of his shaft into my mouth and started tonguing it. He must have really been turned on watching me and Emmanuel because he popped in less than a minute. I swallowed some of it, but he pulled back and pumped most of it over my face.

The next guy didn’t pop nearly as quickly. I had to practically lick all of his cock and balls before he even got really stiff. Then I had to suck and tongue and use my fingers to stroke his shaft for several minutes before he finally started spurting. I really tried to swallow it, but Emmanuel shouted out, “On her face!” and he pulled out and added to the heavy layer of goo already covering my face.

The next guy didn’t even let me suck him. He just stood in front of me and jacked off until he spurted long, sticky streams of cum into my face and hair. I sort of lost track after that. From what Emmanuel said, there were supposed to be ten, but I thought that there were only eight after him. It was hard to tell because I had cum running into my eyes and I kept breathing it up into my nose. It must have been ten, though, because Emmanuel shouted, “On your back, whore!”

I rolled off of my knees and onto my back. Two of the men grabbed my ankles and turned me so my crotch was facing the people on the bleachers. Then a bunch of naked guys came running out onto the court. Two of them held my hands straight out on the floor and two held my feet a little way up into the air and one of them knelt between my legs. “She’s already wet,” he cried out. “We don’t need no lube.”

I thought it was kind that they had thought that I might need lube, but none was needed. The women were right when they said that I was dripping like a slut in heat. That’s exactly what I was. I thrust myself up to meet his thrust as he pushed his way into me. I knew that I was acting like a total whore, but I needed another orgasm. He wasn’t expecting that, and popped way too soon, but another quickly took his place. He was still thrusting into me when I screamed out in orgasm.

When he finished another took his place and drove me once again to the edge of orgasm. I was grunting loudly that I was almost there when he suddenly quivered and erupted inside me. The next man took me over the top and kept slamming into me keeping me almost convulsing in the throes of orgasm. When he finally grunted loudly and slammed into me for the last time, I started saying, “No more. No more. I can’t stand it.”

A loud, rough voice, yelled in my ear, “You will stand it, Chica. This is your punishment. And it hasn’t even really begun.”

I’m not sure if I really wanted them to stop, but I kept moaning, “No more. No more. Please, no more,” as the rest of the naked men continued to ravish me. I don’t know if I had multiple orgasms or I was just kept in one, long, continuous orgasm as the men took turns fucking me. Finally, I realized that they weren’t holding my hands and feet anymore... and no one was inside me.

“Hands and knees,” Emmanuel ordered and I shakily rolled over and pulled myself up. He grabbed my hair and turned me so I was now facing the bleachers. “You keep facing your audience,” he said roughly. Then he smacked me on the ass and said, “And try to smile.”

Off to the side, I could see more naked men coming out onto the floor. Then something cold was suddenly squirted between my asscheeks and I could feel a finger smearing it all over my asshole. Once everything was greased up back there, the finger pushed into me and started moving in and out. My sphincter started to relax and soon there were two fingers pushing in and out of me, then three. Suddenly the fingers were pulled out and someone slapped me on the ass and cried out, “She’s ready.”

I felt someone kneeling behind me. Then I felt a prick pushing against my nether opening. The guy with the fingers had loosened me up pretty well, but my virgin rosebud didn’t want to open for him. He pushed harder and reached down with his hands to spread my asscheeks further apart. I gasped as he slid in.

Thankfully he stopped for a moment to let me adjust to his huge intruder, but then he started pushing farther and farther in. I have never felt so full in my life. It was as if I had been stuffed with a huge salami. Then he started pumping.

I really hadn’t considered the possibility that they might take my ass. I knew that they were going to use my mouth and my cunt, but for some reason, I hadn’t thought about them using my ass. I should have thought about it. I know a lot of guys really like fucking a girl in the ass, but for some reason, I forgot all about it.

Maybe I thought I wouldn’t like it. If so, I was wrong. I couldn’t believe the sensations as his prick slid in and out of my intestines. Maybe it would have felt different if I hadn’t been totally empty back there. I had given myself six enemas. I kept going until the water came back out totally clear. I didn’t do it for this, though. I was afraid that if they did uncomfortable things to me I might crap myself and that would be terribly embarrassing. I guess that wouldn’t have been any more embarrassing than getting off on getting ass-fucked.

After just a little while, I was moaning loudly and he was grunting with each thrust. Everybody started laughing and whooping again. “She’s beyond slut,” one of the women shouted out.

“She’s even beyond whore,” another cried.

“Is there anything that won’t get her off?” a man’s voice asked.

I was on my hands and knees gasping loudly and taking deep breaths. The first man had finished and I was acting like I was in heat or something. I really needed something back in my ass. I moaned as the second man pushed himself in through my rosebud. He wasn’t as big as the first man and I didn’t feel as full, but once he started moving, I returned to my moaning.

It was weird. I didn’t actually orgasm, but I was higher than hell. I didn’t go over the top. I just stayed there and groaned and moaned as man after man fucked my ass. When I heard Emmanuel say, “Stand up!” I groaned again, but this time it was a groan of disappointment.

I wasn’t sure what was going on, but a naked guy lay down on the floor in the middle of the circle. “Impale yourself on him!” Emmanuel ordered and I looked at him confused. “Fuck yourself on him!” he barked out and I lowered myself down on the man. At first, I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to use my cunt or my ass, but as I squatted down, he centered my cunt on his prick. Then Emmanuel pulled my legs out from under me so I was belly to belly with the man.

“Push your ass back up in the air,” Emmanuel ordered and I tried to do so. I felt someone more or less straddling my legs and then I felt a prick sliding into my ass. I was so loosened up by the previous fuckings that he went in really easily.

“Now look up,” Emmanuel ordered and I looked up to see him standing in front of me. He was naked and his prick was all the way hard once again. He shoved it into my mouth and pushed hard so it went all the way down my throat. Then all three men started thrusting.

I was overwhelmed with sensations almost as soon as they started moving. I could feel the pricks moving in my mouth, my cunt, and my ass and I could feel the pricks moving against one another through the thin membranes that separated my ass from my cunt. I raised my arms off the ground and grabbed Emmanuel by the thighs. I wasn’t getting enough air, but I didn’t care. I was going higher than I ever had before– higher than I had even fantasized about going.

Suddenly everything went white and I could feel myself bouncing and flailing. I think I was spanking Emmanuel’s ass with my hands. I felt his prick pulsing in my mouth. The other two thrust hard into me and spurted. Then everything went black.

Chapter Three - Felicia’s Story, Punished by the Women of North Thirty

When I came to, I was lying face down on the floor. For some reason, I wasn’t sure where I was because the bleachers appeared to be empty. Then a woman leaned down so her face was right in front of mine and said, “They’ve left you for us to punish now.”

I looked around and saw that all the women were standing in a semi-circle more or less at my feet. The woman used her boot to roll me over and then said, “I’m Camilla. I lead the women of North Thirty.” She then gave me a tight-lipped smile and added, “We’re the ones who get left behind to cry when the men have their little wars.” Her face got very angry-looking as she said, “And some punk Knight tried to break the truce.” She paused. “We can’t punish him because we didn’t catch him,” she nearly spat out, “but we have you.” She then reached down and pinched one of my nipples really hard. I screamed and she pinched it even harder and twisted it with her fingers.

“All the boys want to give you is sex,” she said, “but we will give you pain.”

Another woman– actually just a young girl about my age– leaned in and said, “That doesn’t mean that we won’t give you sex... or make you give us sex, but we will also hurt you.”

I didn’t know what they meant, exactly, but I felt myself flowing copiously... like I would when I knew that Momma was going to spank me.

“Sex first, pain later,” another woman said. I looked over at her and realized that she was naked. I could hear boots hitting the floor and looked all around me. All of the women were getting naked.

Four of them were dragging something across the floor. “We want to be a little more comfortable,” Camilla said as the women started unrolling what looked like a big, thick mat of some sort. “Doubly comfortable,” she added as four more women rolled out a second layer of matting.

“These wrestling mats are thicker than the mattresses back at the clubhouse,” one of the women said after unrolling the mat. “So we will be very comfortable while you eat our twats.”

Camilla smiled at me in a very cold way and said, “You look like you are an excellent cocksucker. Now’s your chance to prove yourself as a cunt lapper.”

She lowered herself down onto the mat and said harshly, “Start eating.”

I’d never eaten a pussy before. But then, before today, I’d never sucked a cock before either. I got up onto my hands and knees, crawled over to her, and lowered my head between her legs. She had the strong smell of a woman who was highly aroused. Evidently watching her men rape and humiliate me really turned her on... or maybe it was the thought of me having to eat her out that was flipping her switch.

I gave a tentative lap with the flip of my tongue and then started nuzzling and licking. I was pretty sure what would be enjoyable for her, but she gave me plenty of feedback with moans and short calls of, “Yes, that’s it.”

Women have a longer trigger than men. It took me well over ten minutes to bring her to orgasm. When she did, she wrapped her legs around my head and squeezed so tightly that I couldn’t breathe. My face was pressed into her cunt and I couldn’t move enough to get any breath at all. I didn’t pass out before she let go, but I was seeing stars.

“One down, fifty-seven to go,” someone said as another woman lay down on the mat. I’m not real great with math, but I knew that if it took ten minutes for each woman, I would be eating pussy for almost ten hours.

I heard a lot of talk and laughter and lifted my head to look around. Most of the women were standing around with a beer or other drink in their hands like they were at a party. There were even some tables with snacks and so forth. Someone rapped me on the head and said, “Keep your mind, or at least your tongue, on the task at hand.” I lowered my head and returned to lapping.

After about an hour, one of the women said, “She looks like she’s getting tired.”

Another said, “She just needs a drink.”

A third said, “No, she has to keep eating ‘til she’s done us all.”

The other voice replied, “No problem,” and I felt something very cold and wet between my ass cheeks. Something that felt like a finger or a thumb was over the end of it. That was rapidly removed and a bottle of beer was shoved up my ass.

I screamed slightly as the neck was pushed in until the bottle was tight against my ass. “Put your head on the floor,” a voice said as she wiggled the bottle slightly. I did what she said and could feel her wiggling the bottle even more. “Now you keep all that inside you,” she said almost sweetly and patted my ass as she pulled the bottle back out.

I’ve never had a beer enema before. I don’t think many people have had one, but the alcohol hit me almost instantly. My head was swimming slightly as I went back to licking and lapping. I heard myself fart loudly. It sounded wet and one of the women said, “Excuse you,” and I felt someone wiping my ass with a paper towel.

“You spit up just a little,” a new voice said, “but you should keep the rest down... or up.” She then giggled like she had been having a few too many beers herself.

I took a couple of deep breaths to try to steady myself, but then I let out a loud scream as something really hard slammed into my asscheek. Camilla walked around so she was standing above the girl’s head who I was eating. She was tapping this really long wooden paddle against the palm of her hand as she said, “That was just to give you a little encouragement.”

I shuddered as the familiar bolts of electricity zapped from my crotch to the rest of my body. Were they really going to spank me?

“If you don’t get her off in the next five minutes,” Camilla growled, “you will get five more of those.”

I went back to nibbling, licking, and sucking, but I intentionally stayed away from the girl’s clit so she would be slow to climax. Sure enough five minutes later, Camilla again swatted my ass. I didn’t want it to look too obvious that I actually was turned on by the spanking, so I really dug into the girl’s twat, so to speak, and she screamed and wrapped her legs around my head a few minutes later.

The next girl was already gushing when she lay down so I had no problem taking her over the top before the time limit, but the next one was as dry as the Sahara. I knew that I would have trouble getting her off in time even if I was really trying, which I wasn’t. After about ten minutes Camilla came up behind me and started smacking my ass with that paddle. I lifted my head and just stood there shuddering.

I guess I should say knelt there, since I was on all fours, but whatever. I just knelt there on all fours and shook while she slammed that heavy oak paddle into my ass. She gave me one on each asscheek then moved so that the final three were across both cheeks.

“You’ll get another ten if you aren’t finished in five minutes,” Camilla warned ominously.

The desert was no longer dry and I could have brought her off in a couple of minutes, but again I nibbled at the sides of her cunt without tonguing her deeply or licking or suckling her clit. Right on schedule, Camilla started whaling on my ass. She must have actually been mad because she didn’t seem to be aiming her swings and hit really fast all over my ass.

“Holy shit!” one of the women yelled. “She likes it. She’s getting off on getting her ass smeared.”

I don’t know why, but suddenly I was ashamed. I buried my face in the girl’s twat and worked like mad to bring her off. It only took a moment to take her over the top. She didn’t wrap her legs around my face, but instead began bucking wildly upward, nearly knocking me out.

When the next girl lay down, Camilla knelt down next to me and said, “OK, we are going to switch to some positive encouragement. If you work as hard as you can to pleasure us, I will smack your ass with this paddle every thirty seconds. If you don’t, then I will find some other ways to punish you.”

I really dug into that girl’s twat. I was licking and slurping and sucking as hard as I could. And true to her word, every thirty seconds– I think– Camilla would slap my ass with that beautiful paddle. If it really was every thirty seconds, I brought that girl off in less than three minutes.

While she was screaming and hugging my face with her legs, Camilla gave me an extra two swats with the paddle and I lost control. Everyone was laughing as the girl I was pleasuring and I both shook and trembled in orgasm.

“You are one sick Chica,” Camilla said as the next woman lay down on the mat. She kept up the every thirty-second thing, but I didn’t lose control again. I was quivering and trembling in near orgasm, but I didn’t pop off.

After a couple more women, I decided to find out what Camilla meant by some other ways to punish me. I intentionally went back to delaying things. It must have been immediately obvious because there were no slaps of reward with the paddle. Then after what must have been ten minutes Camilla said, “I warned you.”

I felt something cold and metallic touch my asshole and my cunt at the same time and there was a strange click followed by the most intense pain I have ever felt. I literally jumped all the way over the girl I was supposed to be pleasuring and ended up standing on the mat at her head. Everyone was laughing uproariously, including the girl on the mat.

“Well, well, well,” Camilla said, clicking the cattle prod so that sparks flew between its prongs. “It looks like we found something that doesn’t turn you on.”

She pointed down at the mat and said, “Get back to licking. And if you’re good, you get the paddle. If you’re bad you get...” she again triggered the prod.

For the next hour, I happily lapped at girl after girl and brought them to screaming orgasms. I knew my ass must be all purple by now, but I didn’t care. I was on a constant pleasure-pain high. Then I found myself staring at an empty mat.

Camilla pulled me to my feet and said, “Your final punishment is going to be a mixture of pleasure and pain.” She laughed as she continued, “You will probably get some pleasure from the pain, but you will definitely get some pain from the pleasure.”

I had no idea what she meant and was even more confused when a bunch of the women rolled up the wrestling mats and pushed one of those big basketball backboard supports out onto the floor. They connected it to some special plates on the floor so it couldn’t move and then pushed a small platform over so it was right under the long section that supported the backboard.

“Get up there,” Camilla ordered and I did. Two of the girls wrapped some leather cuffs around my wrists that had long ropes hanging from them. Two more girls pushed ladders over and tied the ropes really tight to the framework supporting the basket. Since the framework stuck out at least six feet, my arms were pulled up and pretty far out to the sides.

I still wasn’t sure what was going on until a whole bunch of the women began pushing the platform on which I was standing. They pushed it out from under me and then carried it back to wherever it was stored. I kicked my legs wildly for a few moments and then just hung there.

Two girls attached cuffs to my ankles and then looped them through some sort of D-ring that was mounted on a plate on the floor. They were about five feet on either side of me and looked like they were in the right places to help support volleyball nets or something like that. They were also in the right place to pull my legs really far apart. I was now hanging beneath the basket support in a big, naked X.

Camilla pushed one of those roll-around ladders over to me and said, “Now for some decorations.”

I couldn’t tell what she was holding in her hands, but suddenly it felt like something was biting my left nipple. Camilla held up her other hand and showed me what I recognized as a butterfly clamp. I had never seen one except on the internet, but I knew what it was. She reached down and the clamp bit my right nipple.

Then Camilla held up something on a short silver chain. Again, I had never seen something like that in real life, but from my frequent visits to porn sites, I knew it was a nipple weight... and it looked really large. She reached down and clipped the weight to the clamp and then dropped it. I screamed and she smiled. I didn’t scream as loud with the second weight, but she smiled even more broadly.

“I guess you know what these are, too?” she asked as she held up some electrode patches. I didn’t say anything, but I knew what they were. She began sticking them all over my body. There were also a couple of wires with alligator clips that she evidently clipped to the butterfly clamps or the weights because I could feel the additional pull on my nipples.

“We have to clear the brush to get a good connection,” she said as she held up a small beard trimmer. I heard it buzzing and then I felt it moving through my well-trimmed bush. She held up a can of shaving cream and said, “This is menthol. It feels cool at first, but after a while starts to burn. It will give you a really close shave.”

I heard her spritzing some of it into her hand and then she rubbed it all over my cunt and back between my asscheeks. I thought she would start shaving me right away, but instead, she got down off the ladder and stepped back to watch me. She was right. It did feel very cool at first and it got colder and colder until it started to burn. It was a strange, cold burn, but it was very uncomfortable. Once it was obvious that it was starting to burn, Camilla climbed back up on the ladder.

“Beg me to shave your cunt super smooth,” she said softly. When I didn’t respond, she said firmly, “Say it!”

“Please shave me super smooth so you can attach the TENS unit to my cunt,” I said shakily. The shakes were caused by the fact that the pain was sending the lightning bolts out of my cunt, but I thought it was best to give her what she wanted. She quickly shaved me and then wiped off the rest of the foam. It felt really weird when she spread my asscheeks so she could shave right across my asshole. It hurt in a not-nice way as the razor crossed my rosebud. I was still really tender from the earlier ass fuckings.

After the electrodes were attached on either side of my cunt and deep within my asscheeks, I thought she might be finished, but then I heard a deeper buzzing and saw her climb back on the ladder with a hair trimmer. “Hold still or you will get cut,” she said angrily as I tossed my head from side to side.

I watched my beautiful brown, wavy hair fall to the floor beneath me as the hair trimmer buzzed its way around my scalp. As soon as she was finished, she lathered my whole head with the menthol shaving cream. This time it was cold almost immediately and almost immediately began to burn in that strange, cold way. I wasn’t faking when I begged her to shave my head to get rid of that cold burning.

I sighed with relief when she finished shaving my head, but groaned as she applied another layer of menthol foam. This time she began shaving immediately so I didn’t have to beg her to shave me. I was afraid they were going to attach electrodes to my head, but after wiping my now-shining head dry, Camilla stepped down off the ladder.

She stood in front of me and said, “That’s the pain that might give you pleasure.” She held up a strange-looking belt and said, “Here’s the pleasure that might give you pain.”

I had no idea what she meant and was still confused when she again climbed the ladder to show me the belt close up. It was a wide, black leather belt that said SLUT in big silver letters on one side of it and WHORE in equally-large letters on the other side. There was a strange-looking snap halfway between the two words and an extra strip of leather attached near the buckle in the front.

She wrapped it around my waist and snugged it in place. “It’s a shame to lose this one,” she said. “It has been one of my favorites. I’ve used it on several disobedient girls over the past years.”

I was still confused until she held up the huge dildo. Then everything clicked. This was a belt designed to hold a dildo – and perhaps an anal plug – in place. The dildo was larger than anything I had ever used, but after everything I had been through, it slid easily in place. The anal plug was also huge, but it, too, slid easily into place.

Well, not easily. Camilla had to push really hard and I was grunting loudly as the wide part stretched out my anal sphincter before my asshole slid into the groove to hold it firmly in place. Even without the belt, it probably would never have slipped out.

“Those are both automatic,” Camilla explained as she pulled the strap back between my legs. “And their cycles are not quite in sync,” she continued. “When they both reach maximum at the same time, I guarantee you will explode. But either one separately will keep you on the edge until we send you back.”

I wasn’t sure how long it would be until they sent me back, but light had been streaming into the gym for a while now and I was supposed to be released at noon, so it was at most four or five hours.

Camilla got off the ladder and one of the girls pushed it back up against the wall. Another girl rolled a cart over in front of me that held a large box that looked like a soundboard for a small band. Camilla spent the next couple minutes carefully plugging all of the wires from the electrodes into the box and then spent a few more minutes adjusting all of the controls.

She looked up at me and suddenly said, “Oh, I forgot something.” The ladder was rolled back and she climbed up so that she was looking directly into my face. “It’s more fun if you don’t know who all is out here,” she said with a big smile. “For all you know, we might have the entire neighborhood come through to see what happens to someone who breaks the truce... or at least to the little sister who guarantees the truce.”

She wrapped a black cloth blindfold around my head and I heard her climb back down the ladder. Shortly after that, I started feeling the dildos AND the TENS shocks. The dildo in my cunt was really strong, and the one in my ass was even stronger, but it vibrated at a much higher frequency and didn’t give as much pleasure. In fact, it was primarily just annoying... unless it and the dildo up front got to maximum at the same time. Then the combination of vibrations drove me into an absolutely wild orgasm. I’m not sure how often that happened, but I think it was about every twenty minutes to a half-hour.

The shocks weren’t too bad except when they went into pulse mode. Then each shock– when they reached maximum– felt like an electric nail being driven into my body. The TENS unit was programmed differently on each set of electrodes, so sometimes one set of electrodes was giving me an almost pleasant buzzing feeling while other sets were driving nails.

Once in a while, like the dildos, the cycles would sync and I would have this pleasant tingling all over my body, or I would be assailed everywhere with a nail gun driving electric nails. I found that everything up to the full electric nails actually turned me on, sort of like my Momma’s spankings always did. I was, as Camilla had predicted, getting some pleasure from the pain.

Meanwhile, the dildos were driving me to orgasm after orgasm but anything, no matter how good, gets old after a while. I found myself crying out, “No, NO! Not again! Not again!" As the dildos came into sync.

As I cried out, I could hear people laughing. It wasn’t just women’s voices, so the men of North Thirty must have come back into the gym. Or maybe Camilla wasn’t just trying to scare me by saying that they were going to have the whole neighborhood watch me. The thought that ordinary people, like grocers and bus drivers and secretaries and mommas, were watching me filled me with shame. But at the same time, the thought of all those people watching me caused me to go even higher and higher both from the non-nail pain and from the buzzing of those damned dildo vibrators.

Chapter Four - Felicia’s Story, The Return

I have no idea how long I hung there, but eventually, the electrodes stopped shocking me and I heard the ladder being brought over to me one last time. Someone started pulling the electrodes off my body and then I felt something soft being run across my front and back and sides. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was pretty sure that they were writing on my body. The ropes on my legs went slack and the platform was once again pushed over so I could stand on it.

I stood quietly as the ropes holding my hands were untied and the cuffs removed from my wrists. Then I almost collapsed. I could barely stand and someone on either side of me had to help support me.

I was walked, still blindfolded, down a hallway and outside. I could tell I was outside because it was warm and I could feel the sun on my naked body. “Let’s get you back into your shoes,” a male voice said. I think it was Emmanuel, but I couldn’t be sure. We walked for a while and then I was told to stand still. Something warm and wet and slimy was poured over my head. There must have been at least a gallon of it because it flowed down my face and neck and covered most of my body. I was walked some more and then again told to stand still.

We stood for what seemed like a really long time and then I heard the church clock ring twelve. It was time for me to be sent back to the Knights. The blindfold was removed and I stood blinking in the bright sunlight. When my vision returned, I realized that I was standing on the curb on the North Thirty side of Rail Street. “You stay naked until you get back to your apartment or the agreement is off,” Emmanuel growled softly in my ear as he gave me a gentle push to start me walking back across the street.

I was naked except for my yellow stiletto heels, the nipple clamps,  and of course, the belt holding the dildo and ass plug in place. I looked down at my body and could see that whore and slut and fucktoy had been written all over my body. I couldn’t see it then, but later I would read painslut backwards in the mirror as I examined my swollen, red and purple ass.

The slimy stuff was– as I had feared– cum. I don’t know where they had gotten a gallon or so of cum. The sixty members of the North Thirty couldn’t have come up with that much– no pun intended– so they must have required all of the men in their territory to make a contribution. Even then they had to have required several contributions to have that much.

I walked rapidly across the street. I knew that walking fast caused my hips to sway in what Carlo often called a hooker walk, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even care that everyone was seeing me naked and covered in cum. All I wanted was to get back to my apartment and take a shower and then a hot bath.

Carlo ran up to me with a blanket, but I said quickly, “No, they said I have to walk home this way or the agreement is off.”

“That’s not part of the agreement!” Carlo said angrily.

“I don’t care,” I answered. “I’m walking home just like this.”

I really don’t know if I said that because I didn’t want the agreement broken or because I secretly wanted everyone to see me as the cum-covered slut I really am. It didn’t matter. I walked the three blocks to our apartment building and almost made it inside before the two dildos came into sync. I grabbed hold of the railing as I howled through an intense orgasm. Then I quickly climbed the four stories to our apartment.

Momma was waiting for me with a blanket. “Don’t bother getting it dirty,” I said to her. “I’m going to take a shower and a bath. Then I want to be alone in my bedroom.”

Momma didn’t say anything. She just nodded her head and stepped aside. I went into the bathroom and took off the nipple clamps. Momma asked if I was OK when I screamed. I hadn’t expected it to hurt so much when they came off. After I figured out how to open the belt and release the dildos, I took a long shower until all of the cum was washed off my body. The words had been written in permanent marker, so they weren’t going to disappear until they wore off.

I thought about washing my hair and then laughed out loud and rubbed my bald head. The hair on my head would eventually grow back, but I decided that the hair between my legs would not. I would keep it shaved or perhaps even get it permanently removed so that my cunt was always naked and visible.

After my shower, I filled the tub with the hottest water I could get out of the tap and submerged myself up to my neck. The one advantage of these old apartment buildings is that, for some reason, they have really big tubs in the apartments. After that, I went to bed.

Momma, of course, came in to see me and asked if I were OK. I told her that I would survive.

Carlo knocked on the door and came in timidly. He again said how sorry he was that I had to go through all of this, and I assured him that I didn’t blame him. I told him also that I would survive. Then I asked him to see that I was left alone for the rest of the day.

A little while later, I heard him and Momma go back downstairs, probably to sit out on the steps of the building. Once everyone was gone, I threw off my covers and brought my hands down to my cunt. I needed one more orgasm, but I needed one that I had control over. It wasn’t a great orgasm and my girl parts were more than a little tender, but once I had climaxed, I was able to nestle back into the pillows and fall fast asleep.

As I drifted off to sleep a stray thought crossed my mind and I smiled wickedly. I was wondering what would happen if, in six months or so after my hair grew back, the rogue tagger struck in the Brookman Queens territory.