NEW YORK PARTY GIRL by Regis

Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults.

Feature Writer: Regis

Feature Title: NEW YORK PARTY GIRL

Published: 29.11.2023

Story Codes: Erotic Horror, BDSM, WS, Snuff, NC

New York Party Girl

I’ve got no idea how I got myself into what turned out to be this crazy, extraordinary, exciting lifestyle, but hey, I’ve got to tell you things weren’t always like this for me. The truth is, I’m quite a good girl, really. Everybody tells me that. I’m not a call girl, a prostitute, or anything.

Like it’s important to me you know that the truth is I only fuck friends. Or acquaintances. Whatever. Like for me sex is a really important part of my life, so I got myself into the New York sex parties circuit like there are several of them, and I’m in on all that I could find out about.

Also, I only get my rocks off at parties, where everyone’s doing it, and everyone sees everything you do, like nothing ever happens in private, in a dark hotel room, you know, the way prostitutes do it. I’d never be caught dead doing anything dirty like that. I’m a New York party girl.

Like if you’re fucking a guy, or even just being fucked by a guy at a great party, and everyone there is into it, like everybody’s naked and getting themselves porked, front of back or maybe both, then it’s just a lot of fun, there’s nothing unusual or dirty or anything like that about it.

I expect becoming a party girl, for me, had something to do with how much fun I had as a college cheerleader riding some amazing football player studs’ big stiff cocks after the game in the shower room, with all the guys there, and probably a few other open-minded cheerleaders too, giving the boys a chance to exercise their big dicks and empty their balls.

I think it also had something to do with the constant high, even hypersensitiveness of my clit, and the way all the guys loved to plunge their raging erections into me. I loved to party with sexy guys so much that everybody said I was just like some kind of cock-magnate. I think that was a compliment.

I was always getting drilled front and back, sometimes both at the same time, or someone would drive his big dick down my throat, and I loved it. If you want to have a strange thrill you want to let a guy stick his dick right down your throat and then take a long piss straight into your stomach.

Like you don’t taste it or anything, you just feel his warm piss streaming down your gullet and splashing inside your stomach. You and the guy who pisses down your throat are the only ones who know he’s done it, and he doesn’t have to leave the action to go to the bathroom, he just relieves himself inside you in private yet we’re both still in full view. Is that cool or what?

Like if they stay in my throat too long, and start to choke me, which some of the guys like to do, then when they finally pull out I have to puke, and up comes their piss, so then I tasted it, but I think that’s just part of the risk of having that kind of a good time with a guy’s stiff cock, don’t you think?

Of course, maybe my becoming a party girl has something to do with the wild crowd I run with now, people for who fucking is everything like it is for me. Like guys jacking off using your cunt, rectum, or throat instead of their fists is such a rush. For them, it’s all about their thrills, not yours.

I love to watch guys who’ve been jacking off, using their fists, my cunt or asshole, whatever, to get themselves off and are spurting their semen, either inside me or on me, it doesn’t matter where. That’s what sex is supposed to be all about right? Maybe that’s why I get so fucking horny watchin’ guys jackin’ off. Hey, who the fuck knows?

Life is all about hooking up. Right? Fucking or getting fucked. I mean if whatever you do is not a sex thrill, what’s the point? All my friends know I am pretty much a party girl, especially the guys who are my friends, guys who need to party all the time except when they’re at work.

You know, I think some of the guys fuck girls in the back room at work too, they like it so much. When they’re at home or at New York parties, getting off with their constant hard-ons, drilling me, and doing sexy things to me and the other girls at every opportunity, that makes me happy, like life’s my bitch.

But I’ve got to say I still believe I’m really a good girl, because actually everyone in our crowd does it as we fuck like mink, and we always do it together, we never sneak off to fuck in private with the lights out and shit, like some kind of low-life prostitute or anything. I think I already said that.

I never ever did do real drugs, since a girl can easily get herself seriously hooked on the hard stuff, and that’s a sure road to prostitution. I never got into anything addictive. I just did grass and maybe sometimes I had a chance to sniff the occasional row of snow. Ya, coke. Don’t pretend you don’t know. That’s what people do.

It’s not that bad, you know, once you get some good shit into your system. It’s not like getting addicted or anything, because even though we use it all the time like our boyfriends seem to have an endless supply, what can I say, everybody does it, right? I know all the guys find me a lot sexier cunt when I’m high.

Good cocaine has definite advantages. because for me it works quickly, and it makes it easier for me to take some of the kinky shit the guys who are my friends are into. Like we have rules, especially for us girls, so we’ve got to do what they want and let them do anything they want to us.

What I mean is, no matter what, if we want to stay good friends with them, or whatever, we have to do some of the grossest things because that’s how it works. Every guy in New York knows that cunts are for abuse, and that’s how they treat us. It’s the price of being a New York party girl.

We’re always doing unbelievable sex, like anything the guys want. And just for fun, they always like to do weird things to a girl’s sex organ, like to mess with our vagina or give us some kind of a tail by poking one attached to a wooden post, up our bum, stupid shit like that.

The guys tell us a girl looks a lot sexier when she crawls with a tail sticking out of her butt, wagging as she moves and shit. You have to understand it’s just guys being guys. They like their cunts (that’s their friendly pet name for us) to look sort of like their personal human animals.

I’m pretty sure that’s because they really like to fuck us like animals. That’s what’s going on in their heads while they party. It’s not like that bothers me in the least. I think being fucked like an animal is really cool. I like to think of myself as a beast of passion.

Right after I graduated with a master’s degree in philosophy, I thought I’d never find a job, like who wants to hire a fucking philosopher, but I got lucky when I finally found my niche. I got hired to do this amazing job as an Esthetician. That’s a hoity-toity name for us cunts who do makeup.

I was always good at doing my own makeup; so it was a natural fit to do makeup for brides and society women, you know, rich bitches. The job was at this terrific beauty salon on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. I had a great boss, who was a real stallion when he got his cock into you.

Like it was a place where most of the girls were young, like fresh out of high school, because the rich bitches like to have kids doing their faces and hair, girls who know are really young but also what the fuck they’re doing. The boss made sure the young girls he hired knew which end was up.

I finally figured out the rich bitches, all of them it turns out to be at least millionaires, come to the studio to find young girls. They always ask for someone different, so they get to see all of us. It’s like they’re recruiting, and I realized that when a girl didn’t show up at work two days in a row, we knew one of our clients had hired her.

The ladies who were clients liked young cunts with schoolgirl attitudes, because they kept hiring them away, so our boss had to go to the high schools and sometimes even to the junior high schools to hire and train new girls all the time. I was a bit too old for what clients seemed to want, based on the age they hired away from us, so I just kept on doing my job.

Even though the high school girls, and of course even girls hired from junior high, were quite a bit younger than me, they were usually really cool. In my department, we did the faces of the rich bitches, like we got them after some of the others did their hair. I had the younger girls do my hair, and go to like some of them a lot, but they were soon hired away.

Once my boss sent me on an assignment to be the assistant makeup artist for a movie, and I also had to do hair and everything, because they didn’t have a big budget, but I was pretty good at hair too, so I got the job. The job seemed cool, but it turned out to be a bummer of a job really, because I was really doing makeup for lowlife porn stars.

If you can imagine, these were girls who fucked for a living, sometimes for these filthy sex videos they called movies. This one I was working on was definitely a porno movie, and I had to use cheap lipstick on the ladies, who were really whores, so they could leave rings on the guys’ cocks when they sucked them. The director needed that.

I even put cheap lipstick on their cunts and assholes, for the same reason, to leave rings on the guys, who were also shaved clean so the lip, cunt, and rectum rings of the actresses’ lipstick from their bum holes, cunts, and even their lips would show. That’s how it worked.

What made me sick was that I had to spray perfume in the whores’ cunts so they wouldn’t smell so bad. I really hated that part of it, but at least I also got hired to be a suck-up girl on the studs to get their cocks up and ready for each take. I always wiped their erections clean with a napkin before I put them in my mouth, knowing where they’d been. I do have standards.

The other thing that was sort of outrageous but cool was when the producer needed to do a kiddie porn video for a wealthy client, he used me to get the little girls he needed. He got me to make friends with a grade three teacher, and get her using, first coke, then graduating her to H.

I showed her how to inject, and when I did it to myself, I just used warm water. She got onto it, and in less than two weeks I had the cunt hooked. We rented a hall and had her bring all the girls in her class for a party there, and we got the kids doing coke as well. That lowered their inhibitions.

When they were into it. We got them out of their clothes, got the cameras rolling, and got them playing basketball, with ten on each team. It wasn’t about the ball, it was all about their naked little cuntlets on display as they played, kicking and screaming like a room full of monkeys.

That made some great footage, but the director wasn’t done. He found two of the naked eight-year-old girls who were ready to take a pee, and he got me to get down on my knees and got my mouth open in front of their little cuntlets, and when they let loose, I had to drink it for the cameras.

A couple of the girls got into a bit of a spat, and he pulled them aside, got me to spank their bare bottoms, and then told them I’d use a strap on their asses if they didn’t fight each other, and be as mean as they could. The kids got a fresh row of show to sniff, and then they got at it.

As you might imagine, naked little girls fighting each other could be quite stimulating, but how these two kids put on was phenomenal. Besides the usual hair pulling, face and bum scratching, and head butting, one of them raised a knee sharply into the other’s cunt, and got the same in return.

When they got down, realizing the vulnerability of the cunt, they got their fists into their opponent’s vagina and started heavily fist fucking each other. Let me tell you, for eight-year-old girls doing that, it’s really something to see, and the horny director really got into it, shouting instructions and all kinds of encouragement.

Those two girls were really responsive and aggressive in their naked combat, probably because of the three rows each of snow they’d sniffed. They were pounding the poop out of each other, and the cameras didn’t miss a thing. I had no idea I’d cum just watchin’ naked little girls gettin’ it on.

Who’d have guessed eight-year-old girls, their small frames loaded with cocaine, would develop such hostility toward each other so quickly? They were both out for blood. And both were drawing it, to the delight of their film crew audience. They had much better action to capture than they’d ever hoped for.

At the beauty salon, we also had a side business of doing body waxing, which pulls body and heavier cunt hair out by the roots, which is a lot more effective than shaving. We had a private studio with just one chair in it where we could do some hot cosmetic work on ladies’ cunts, if they asked for it.

I was surprised at how many of the older women, like over thirty, said they needed it. When things got quiet, we sometimes practiced by doing each other’s cunts, and we figured out how to get some great ‘hot pussy’ looks by using the right kind of makeup in the right places.

When you are decorating a lady’s cunt you just have to keep in mind the final look you want, and then you can always get it right. If you fucked up, you could lose the studio a client, and the boss would go ballistic, but that’s another story, and I was good enough that I never fucked up.

One day one of the younger girls, a fifteen-year-old who had dropped out of grade nine, brought to work a box of some mind-blowing sex-enhancing tools. They were not for us to sell to customers; she didn’t even tell the boss about them. These were a gift from the woman client, who thought we might enjoy wearing them.

Kitty had been invited to go home with an older Japanese woman, like over 40 already, a bitch who wanted to watch her and take pictures and video of her getting herself fucked by her dog. Kitty was game for everything. She said once she figured out what she was supposed to do, down on her hands and knees, the big shorthair dog gave her an amazing fuck.

The woman had been the concubine of a Japanese Geisha Master. Her lover had invented these amazing little clit clips that slid under our clit hood to grip our clit. He’d designed them to make Geisha Girls sexier, like all the time. They would stimulate our clit, and could bring us to orgasm, just from the right kind of slight movement.

There were two kinds of these cunt clips, active and passive. Both kinds were like little short lengths of tube, were tucked under the clit hood and sat around the clit. They had to push flesh aside, so the woman who wore one was always aware of it gripping her clit.

The active ones had these ornate little chains that hung on either side and when a cock pulled them while the girl wearing it was being fucked, she went over the fucking moon in orgasm. Just any small movement also triggered both types and as the clit rose in response to the stimulation, the female wearing it would begin to orgasm. Continuously. Outstanding.

She could also just use her fingers to pull the little chains with the same effect. The girls who wore them loved them. These active ones came off when a girl didn’t want to wear them. The other kind, the passive type, was much more interesting, because of how they worked.

They didn’t have little chains on the sides. They stayed in place because they had sharp little teeth, and were clamped on to stay locked on our clit, permanently. They fit in underneath our clitoral hood, and like the other kind, were wrapped around the clit, gripping it.

These passive ones got squeezed on with pliers so that the teeth pierced our meat as they gripped us. You can understand how these were to stay on forever. That’s the kind I chose. Even the slightest movement made these passive ones work beautifully, because of the effect of those little teeth, now stuck in our flesh.

The tiny teeth clamped right into my meat, and it hurt like hell being put on, but it didn’t take long until they didn’t hurt anymore. I soon got used to wearing it and depended on its steady stimulation. My new clit clamp amplified any move I made, moving the little teeth against the scar tissue where I had healed around them.

By just slightly shifting my hips my clit clamp slid just a tiny bit, which was enough to make my clit begin to rise, and when it slid more, the little teeth stimulated me. That’s what started things going, with a tight knot in my belly, and I started to cum. It just kept on with the cycle, bringing me to constant amazing orgasms. No shit.

I love it. Now with just a tiny movement of my hips, I start to cum. When I walk I cum. When I’m being fucked, I have a massive orgasm. Life is just a bowl of perpetual orgasms, with me cumming all the time. It’s a real blast. I stay hot just like a Japanese pleasure cunt. I guess now you could call me a New York Geisha Girl.

One time this beautiful lady customer told me she had a really hot party she was going to, like everybody would be basically bare naked, so she needed to be totally beautiful, in a manner of speaking, and she asked if I could do some work on her cunt, like to make her look super sexy.

I said sure, we do that kind of work all the time, fixing pussies to look really good, and I took her into the private workstation where she could get naked. She had an amazing body and had been given a wax job already, because her cunt was totally bare, like the little cuntlet on a baby.

I told her I needed her to masturbate before I started, which is standard procedure in such cases, to get her cunt active. I put some moisturizing cream on the inside of her cuntlips, and used stuff we have that makes skin tighten up on the outside, so when it dried it pulled her inner cunt lips wide open.

It was amazing. The masturbation she had done for me to get her elegant pussy ready for makeup was getting her really horny, and her gorgeous big-lipped cunt opened beautifully for me. Then I put makeup on her cuntlips and clit, like we always did, to just make them stand out.

Hers stood out a bit more than usual, and she loved it. I got her to flip over, use her hands to hold her butt-cheeks apart and I made her rectum red as well. She loved that. It’s amazing what a simple little change to a lady’s asshole can do to make the woman feel much sexier.

That was about the time the salon changed hands, and a big buxom bitch bought it. Her first move was to fire anyone over twenty-four, and I just made the cut and was able to stay on. That was good because that bitch who made such a deal of having her big cunt done just right loved my work.

A week later she and a couple of her friends who came in all the time told us the party had been amazing, and that she had been the hit of the whole shebang, thanks to the makeup job on her cunt. They invited a bunch of us Estheticians who claimed we weren’t shy to come to a party with their stockbrokers.

These were rich guys who drove expensive sports cars, were all single, and lived together in this great place, the size of a big freaking mansion in this tower, and they really knew how to throw an amazing New York party! When we said yes, that’s how and when our lives changed like I mean forever.

These stockbrokers are amazing guys, and we had this great party, which you could safely call a mass orgy. They live together high up in a big older apartment building near the river. They all work in the same building, most for the same firm, and they are now my boyfriends.

My girlfriends are the ones I worked with at the beauty salon who came to stay with these always-horny guys, as we all now do, full fucking time. These guys are all studs, really good at fucking, and told us they needed some girls to live at their place, all the time, girls like us who love to fuck and love to party, which I think is pretty much the same thing.

We all gave up our own places, moved in, and one by one we quit the salon, because we didn’t need to make money anymore, since these guys took real good care of all of us with a great allowance that was better than what we made working at the beauty salon. All we had to do was to be their party cunts.

We’re just like one big happy fuck family, with eager cocks and lots of hot semen flowing regularly, whenever the guys are home. You understand we’re all at the age that everything is about sex. No kidding, it’s as if we’re in the heat all the time, and the guys are too, no exceptions.

They give us more sex than we could ever wish for. We make a point of always looking sexy for them, and it pays off in all kinds of ways. The guys give us a Brazilian wax job every couple of weeks or so and then rip the wax off so quickly, and it hurts like hell at first, but then it settles down, and we never need to shave.

Like I mean it really hurts pulling out our newly growing pubic hair fuzz like that, but the first time was the worst, because new pubic hair is super thin and comes out easily, so it’s totally under control. We all keep our armpits, cunts, and butt cracks perfectly clean. The guys insist.

These guys never do it to themselves, I mean wax themselves, they just shave themselves bare every couple of days so I figure they know how painful a wax job can be. I can’t tell you how much I want to kick them in the balls when they do it to me, but as you know, that’s nothing a girl should do.

If she ever tried that, she’d lose her male friends, and it would end her career as a party girl. A couple of days after they shave we know that it’s time for them to do it again, because their fresh-grown stubble really scratches our cunts, so we wish they’d either shave or let it grow.

I’m a good girl, and I always was, even my daddy told me that. He trained me in lots of special ways to be good with a man. He said if I ever told Mommy he was training me in the art of fucking, she wouldn’t think I was a good girl, but he told me I definitely was, and he knew.

That was good enough for me because he always hugged me a lot and everything, a lot more than Mommy ever did. Like she never fucked me, of course, but when he did he gave me a great squeeze, so I knew he was busy loving me, which is what dads are for, right?

Even when I was little he told me I was sexy and that I turned him on big time. I could tell from watching his big dick grow that he believed that, and that I excited him in the best way a girl can. Mommy had to go to work on weekends, and he’d take advantage to help me with my private sex training, which is what he always called it.

We started the training when I was like seven, although he had started giving my cunnie stimulating mouth jobs, like French kissing me between the legs when I was just five, so I had lots of experience before I went to college. He had a really big dick, and I was like eleven before I could take the whole thing all the way into me.

These guys who are my new friends have big dicks too. They are doing really well at selling stocks, and their hobby is to fuck us. They really love girls. They like the look of us and are always putting clips on our cuntlips to hold them open, or to dangle little weights or tiny bells from them.

The weights pull them down erotically, and the bells ring while we walk or are getting fucked. They like our cuts so much they will use rubber cement to glue our cuntlips wide open just to look at them. It’s just that these guys really like to see a girl’s cunt, the most compelling thing about her.

They tell us they like our cunt to always look like it’s feeling horny. They even call us cunt, like they don’t know our name, and we let them do stuff to us because they always want to see our sex organ ready and open for business, and I guess it’s fair because they do the same kind of shit to all of us.

They’ll even put a big hard rubber ring up inside our fuck hole to hold it wide open so they can see right up inside us, right to the cute dimple of our cervix. They pull the ring out when they’re ready to fuck us but then put it back in right after they’ve ejaculated inside us.

When they use that ring inside our cunts, I always think it’s a pretty humiliating thing to do, but you know I think it’s also really cute, from one perspective, sort of a male way of seeing things. It’s to our advantage if we do whatever the guys like, just because they want to do it, and never ask.

Once they had it figured out we’d let them do anything they wanted with us, these investment studs really started pushing the boundaries. Like they’d do anything they wanted with us, including using a long buggy whip they figured out how to use, practicing snapping it against our butts and even our cunts. It was totally radical.

One afternoon we were surprised when that bitch our old boss showed up, the cunt who owned the studio where we’d all worked. She had in tow a pair of pretty twelve-year-old girls. They had already grown their tits, so they must have started to get them real early.

We were all naked, wearing only our heels, ready for action when the guys got home from work. Our ex-boss told the girls to get naked, and then she took off her clothes too. These two kids she’d brought seemed pretty young for the way we partied, but it wasn’t up to us to set standards for our horny boyfriends to stick to.

The kids did look pretty sexy in their high heels. We’d never seen our boss without her clothes on and were surprised she had an amazing shape, with big firm tits, a slender waist, and an incredible cunt, which like ours was waxed. She even told us something we would never have guessed.

When a girl didn’t show up to work, it was always because she had sold her to a client who lusted after the girl. Her studio was just a place to showcase young cunt, and treat them as nothing more than products to be moved. That’s how she’d got to be a rich bitch.

Women also went to the studio to get their hair and makeup done, but that was secondary. The main reason they went was to check out fresh young cunt. The wealthy women we served were there on a shopping trip, which was why they moved from one girl to another, checking us out.

She then startled us when she told us she had sold us to the stockbrokers, that they needed party girls, and were able to pay for us what she asked. She didn’t say how much we were worth, but we knew already that only rich people were her clients, so they probably paid a bundle for us.

We were, of course, properly shocked. We had never thought of ourselves as merchandise. Maybe that accounted for why the rules for cunts at their place were so one-sided. We had to do everything we were told, and they could do to us whatever they liked. That pretty much fits the description of us being their property.

Our ex-boss told us the guys who were our boyfriends, who it turns out had bought us, were getting ready for taking in a new batch of fresh cunt, which is the way she put it, and these two young girls were here today to see if this was an age that interested them.

She was certain these girls would please them, but she wanted to be sure. She was letting us know that the guys planned on bringing in a lot of new girls, which surprised us further, because there were only so many girls they could fuck in an evening, and the rooms where we stayed were full, with no room for new girls to stay. This was a puzzle.

The guys did include us in what they were doing. They even let us help them sell stocks, sort of, in what they say is a really meaningful way. They rent us out for some of their better clients to fuck, because the guys who buy their stocks are willing to pay for a quality fuck.

These are guys who will have sex either with a woman or girl they know or might also rent the girlfriend of someone they know, but these investors are too proud to use a call girl or hire a prostitute. They’d never risk dipping their dick into a cunt they had no idea what it had hosted before. After all, they have their standards.

That’s where we come in. We don’t get paid, so it’s not as if we’re whoring or anything. We’re just helping out because we’re rented to them. The clients are a lot like our stock trader friends because they like to do all kinds of weird and unusual things to us, and since they’ve paid for the privilege, we all have to play ball.

Our boyfriends get five hundred bucks for renting us to a client. We take them to a hotel room, where our boyfriends have set up lots of secret cameras. When one of us takes their client there, we get naked and tell them we like to do it with the lights on so we can see them.

We fuck them on top of the bed, where the cameras can see everything. It’s not like we’re really alone, because the cameras are always turned on to catch all the action, and our boyfriends are watching everything. It turns out our boyfriends enjoy watching their clients fuck us as much as they like to do it to us themselves.

I know that fucking guys, even just one, when everyone can see is different from whoring, and not the same as doing it in private, like being a whore or anything. Only whores will go into a room with a guy and close the door, fucking him in the dark. That’s really perverse, and dirty. I think I told you, I don’t do that kind of shit, I’m a good girl.

My stockbroker friends make lots of money from streaming the video session of us doing their clients live to their private pay site on the Internet, and then tell their clients they’ll have to place all their orders through them, buy and sell, or they’ll release the videos they made onto Youtube.

They never have to post them, of course. Their clients don’t like it much, but they all buy and sell their stocks through these guys, instead of getting their careers ruined by exposure to their sexual habits. Our boyfriends have a really good thing going, and we get to have fun getting their clients to show how horny they are, and how nasty they can be to a girl, on video.

Some of the dates they arrange for us are different. The first one I ever had was with a guy whose hobby was painting. He was a real artist because his stuff was always unique. When I was with him it was because he needed a cunt who was in season, so to speak. He needed to rent a girl having her period, who had her menstrual blood flowing.

I was at peak flow, so I got rented out to this kinky hobby artist guy. He was ready for me when I was dropped at his place, and I had to get out of my clothes right away. He had this big canvas stretched out on the floor, with white acrylic paint on it, to look like snowdrifts. I had to get down, spreading my legs wider than I ever had before, so that my cunt kissed the canvas, making a bloody cunt stain on the paint, like a kiss.

When he figured I’d done what he wanted, he got me to get up and he sprayed what he called fixative onto it, a plastic spray that held the color and kept it from getting smeared. He made me walk around the room twice, thinking that would refresh the drops of blood coming to the front of my cunt, then made me get down and spread again, just a few inches from the first stain of my menstrual blood.

As I was making the fourth cunt-print, the guy who rented me from my boyfriend suddenly lashed my bum with his belt. Of course that made me scream, and he stopped. When I got up I saw what he was doing. The sting of the belt made my hips jerk just a little bit, enough to cause a slight smear of the cunt blood print I was making.

He had me get down again right away, and there was almost no pause between the rest of the cunt blood prints I made for him. As a result of the quick repeat, there was less of my menstrual blood in my vestibule each time, so the prints got continually smaller. The result was amazing if you’re into art.

It looked like cunt prints fading off into the distance. I was pretty good at this. What I didn’t like was the lash across my bum with every cunt-print I made, so each one became less distinct. This guy had figured out how to paint pictures with a menstruating cunt. Mine.

Whenever one of us was rented out to their clients, the guys would make us take a shower and a douche when we got back. The douche was a bit different than normal, but worked well. They said it was the cheapest and the best. We’d get a bottle of coke, take the lid off, cover it with our thumb and shake the shit out of it, then stick it into our cunt.

That made us workable for them, since the guys hated fucking a bloody cunt, but would fuck a cunt full of coke anytime. We’d have to screw in the shower because they didn’t want to get sticky coke juice from us all over their apartment. That works well for me since I love getting fucked under a flow of warm soapy water.

Their clients were sometimes really straight, but more often pretty kinky guys. One of them was really into breath control, the hard way. He had built a scaffold in his basement and wanted me to play hanging on it. He had a really thick rope with a big noose and promised me it would keep me from choking. Ya, right. When pigs fly.

Thank God he wanted to play short drop, with only a bit of slack when I stood on the stool. He teased me for quite a while to get me really nervous before he kicked the stool out from under me, and I was swinging by my neck, wearing only my heels. He didn’t pay much attention to me, because he was too busy with the cameras he had set up to get lots of video and still shots of me singing and dancing in the air.

I could tell from what he said that he’d never put his weight on a noose around his neck. The fucking thing was really choking me, and making it damned tough to breathe. I was pretty sure the guys who were my friends who rented me to him had no idea what the fuck he was up to. This was serious shit. My lungs felt like they were bursting.

All he let me wear was my heels. I was so distressed that I kicked as much as I could, and that made me swing around in circles. I remember peeing before I passed out. When I came to I was on my back on the floor, and he was sitting on my chest, his pants down, and was jacking off, spurting warm semen onto my face.

When I screamed for him to stop, he got off, said I was okay and got me back up onto that stool with the rope around my neck again. Again he kicked it out from under me, and the rope grabbed my neck so tight I thought my head was coming off. No shit. The pain came back to my lungs, I kicked my legs hard, peed again, and then blacked out.

I came to with him sitting on me again, pumping his penis like mad, but it was too soon for him to be able to cum again, so he pissed on my fucking face. Honest. I couldn’t believe it. The asshole took some time riding me, not to give me a break, but to give himself time for his nuts to regenerate.

He finally got me back up on that fucking stool. This was insane. Once more he kicked out the stool, and I kicked, swung, peed, and passed out, this time really quickly. When I came to he had an old coat on me, and had me at the curb, pushing me into a cab. Thank God that was the last I saw of that fucking asshole. Good riddance.

Sometimes our boyfriends will get us super high and then pierce our lips, ears, nose, nipples, navel, and cuntlips just for the fun of putting big brass rings into us, and sometimes even harness us like we were nothing but fucking horses. I’ve heard of Equestricunts, and human horses, but never thought I’d be one.

The parties we have are always hot, and fun, and we all do what the guys need us to do, but as you can imagine, sometimes they get a bit crude if you want to look at it that way. Every now and again the guys get us a bit high on snow, and we all play a fun game of chance called ‘Time of month’ or ‘Kill the bunny’.

in this one, all of the girls line up at the bar, leaning forward, our panties off, and the guys all take turns porking us quickly from behind, as if it was a game, shooting their semen into us, flooding our fucking ovaries, just to see which of us girls are most ripe for breeding. It’s really a hoot.

They make us all go off the pill a month before, just to get the medicine shit out of our system. The game lasts a week, like they ride us bareback as soon as they get home from work, with no protection, to make sure we all get a good injection of their semen, loading our gonads with their cum.

We crash during the day, when they’re gone to work, and then resume the game at night, ordering pizza or Chinese or whatever, and get balled by maybe twenty guys a night. At the end of the week, we all take the ‘kill the bunny’ test, to find out which of us girls managed to get ourselves pregnant.

Its a real rush, because we never know how many of us will find ourselves knocked up. Any girls who are pregnant have to bring in two new girls, to keep the group going and growing, and so on. The girls who get seriously seeded have to fuck off, so we never have swell-bellies hanging around.

Our guys always need to have lots of hot party girls in the group just to keep things interesting for them. When we’re pregnant they have this small apartment for us to stay in, and they get us a job, to work as nude waitresses in a bar where they like to have swell-belly girls working naked because the bar’s called Swellbelly’s.

The owner is a fat woman, who likes big bellies on her nude serving girls. You can tell by the fact we work naked that it’s an after-hours place, with its ‘Front’ door down narrow stairs in a dark alley. We get to take turns as entertainers. We just climb up onto the bar, and a client will pay to perform with us.

We work on our hands and knees, and out of respect for the load in our hanging bellies, they’re only allowed to pork us up our bum. Only three guys get to mount us, changing off after they empty their load of semen into us, and after the third, we go back to serving and another girl takes our place.

If we have to leave our party group because we’re knocked up, we have no choice but to come back months later when we’re fully ripe, and do a ‘special’ to earn our way back. We have to take part in an amazingly fun weeklong ‘sprog-dropping’ party, where those of us who got ourselves knocked up get induced into popping our pups.

Like for real swingers like me, everyone knows that’s the usual way a fucking party pregnancy, an accident, is supposed to come to an end, right? Like our friends, the stockbroker guys told us that in New York you can find a live birthing party going on several times a night, any fucking night. No shit.

When one of us swell-belly’s water breaks, she gets up on the bar, wearing only her heels and perfume, her cunt all looking swollen open from her masturbating to get herself ready. If we’re the ones doing the birthing show, our wrists get tied behind us, holding our arms so we can’t use our hands to help get the sprog out.

A guy gets up with the girl who will be birthing and gets his prick up into her ass, holding onto her tits. I think that adds a lot to the show, don’t you? Like with his big balls swinging behind our open cunt. He butt-fucks us while we do a filthy dance, thrusting our groin out to give everybody a clear view of our swollen and stretching cunt.

When we’re ready, helped by grinding and thrusting our hips, our cunt spreads with the top of the sprog’s head starting to show, and we heave and thrust like we’re trying to shit it out of our cunt, and the guys all start to jack off watching us. You can’t believe how hot it is to have all the guys jacking off just from watching you birthing.

Sometimes there’s a breach, you know, where the sprog’s feet start to come out first, but we’re on our own, we have to do it all ourselves, without help. We have to keep it up until we drop our pup. It usually takes quite a while, so when a guy cums up our ass, he gets off the bar and another guy takes his place tail-gunning us.

This makes it so a cunt is being butt-fucked while her sprog comes out, and dangles by its umbilical cord. It always looks fucking amazing, her pup outside her, swinging by the thick cord to its belly. None of this is done with us lying down, with a doctor, some nurses, or midwives helping.

We have to do it ourselves while standing up and dancing, and hosting a madly rutting penis thrusting up our ass. One of the guys, or maybe the bartender, cuts the cord, triple bags the sprog and it gets dropped right down the trash chute, and that’s the end of the story, guaranteed.

The girl that drops it now gets to rejoin our group, and so it goes unless she’s got to be too old. Like I said, the guys like us young. Life goes on, but the sprog’s done, so she’s free to be a party girl again. I’ve dropped three pups since I joined my stockbroker friends just over four years ago, and it was scary but turned out to be super-cool.

Anyway, we were four or five nights into one of these exciting ‘time of the month’ ‘kill the fucking bunny’ games where we were all getting team-fucked when a couple of the guys came in and said the game was off, because they’d just found something way more exciting, and they needed as many of us as possible to take part.

They told us they’d met these really rich dudes who they found were throwing a terrific party, and they needed to have girls like us who liked to party, and who weren’t prudes, but who were just looking for an exceptionally good time, New York party girls who were really into satisfying the raging lust in their erect clits. That was a strange way to put it, but based on what he said, I was in.

The guys told us these new guys they’d met were really rich, and what they said they needed was solid girls who weren’t afraid to show their goods, weren’t afraid of some fun rope games, were well-built broads with a great set of tits and lust-filled cunts, just like us.

We were told they were going to pay four grand to any girls they liked, girls who really wanted to participate, just for one night, and guaranteed they would pay us in advance. They told us those new guys had bought some really cool sex toys, and they needed to use them for real with willing ladies.

I love using fun sex toys, almost as much as I like fucking. Hey, that’s not true, I like fucking a lot better, but hot sex toys are always fun. The new guys had stipulated they needed only voluptuous girls with a hot torso like us, they had no use for any skinny cunts or fatties. We’d be perfect.

I’ve got a really cool figure with big firm tits, a sexy rounded tummy with a distinct dimple-like navel, which I think I got from the three separate party pregnancies I had, and the guys love it. I have a gorgeous cunt, which flares beautifully, and really looks outrageous when I’m feeling hot.

I’m not a fucking mother or anything, with no kids, because the pups I popped all went down the trash chute as they all do at those birthing parties, so I’m totally free to be a full-time sex party girl again. Ever since I got my sex-stimulating clit clip cinched on, I feel hot all the time.

Like I’m almost always having a fucking orgasm. Just walking stimulates me, and when my clit starts to swell, the damned clip just works better and better, those tiny teeth do their thing, and a rush of orgasms starts, and the fucking rushes just keep on coming.

I think if every girl had one of these clit clips on, there’d be no more war, because we’d be so ho, all the guys would be fucking us continually if we had our way. But what I was saying about these new guys, was they had free booze, as much grass as we could smoke, and rows of top-quality snow for everybody.

Our guys promised us all the girls who took part in their party would get fully paid, and in cash, as soon as we got there. All we’d have to do was get ourselves naked, look super sexy, show our amazing hairless cunts, get into ropes, and play some of their simple bondage games.

Once we were properly bound, they would put to use on us some of their new sex toys, and we’d get ourselves seriously fucked by lots of guys. That’s what the guys told us these new guys needed from some great cunts. It sounded terrific to me, and I was in. I’m a true New York party girl.

So were most of the others, my young girlfriends. We all bundled into two cars, all nine of us, and the guys took us to this party. It was in a posh high-end district, and up in a penthouse suite that took the whole top floor. I’d been to some great apartments for parties, but this was the greatest.

The whole suite was really cool, overlooking Central Park, and with the most incredible bar I’d ever seen, with everything a girl could need to put on a serious high. We parked our clothes in a sitting room right by the private elevator, keeping on only our heels and jewelry.

We also wore our perfume, of course, including some up our cunt, because the last thing a guy wants is to fuck a stinking pussy. The guys who brought us didn’t come in, but that was no problem; we found there were more than 50 horny guys there to take good care of us.

They gave us each four one-thousand-dollar bills, which we put in our purses right away, and left with our clothes in the sitting room. We couldn’t keep the money with us, because we were all stark naked unless we put it in our shoes, which we knew might come off in the heat of action.

One sixteen-year-old girl put the bills under her soles on open-toed six-inch mules, which I thought was foolish because she wanted to keep the money close. She was a stupid cunt. The guys at the party checked us out with their hands on our breasts and fingers in our cunts and up into our assholes, to make sure we weren’t too shy about what they needed.

Living where we did, as New York party girls, we knew the ropes, and we all passed. One of the guys put his finger on my clit clip, without knowing it, and stimulated a micro-erection of my active little love bud. I felt it move, and the knot came to my gut. This was going to be a great night.

The place was fantastic. The ceilings were all sixteen feet high, and the windows went right to the floor. I saw a row of big hooks anchored in the ceiling, some with pulleys on them, and I wondered what they could be for. I once visited a farm in New Jersey, where they hung pigs to gut and for the meat to age.

The windows in the place were all one-way glass, which looked black from the outside, but with an amazing view of mid-town Manhattan and Central Park from inside. From other buildings, people couldn’t see in. I recognized two guys as Broadway stars, and there were also famous guys, actors I’d seen on TV.

This was a party for the wealthy and famous, and I was feeling really lucky to be part of it. Nine of us had bought in, and that meant they put out thirty-six grand for us. This alone told me these really had to be rich guys. They started by taking us into the laundry room, which was huge, but everything in this amazing penthouse was bigger than I’d ever seen.

They had a big tub we had to squat over after they stuck a hose with a special nozzle up our assholes, to flush us out. They said these were going to be clean games, and they didn’t need us dirtying things by leaving bits of our shit on their cocks, and they also didn’t want to deal with the stink.

That made good sense to me, we had enemas lots of times, and after we had all been flushed deeply with warm water three times, soapy at first and then just straight from the tap, the water came squirting out of our puckered assholes clean enough to drink.

Hey, I’m kidding. That’s just a figure of speech. I commented to one of the guys that we now had the cleanest guts in New York. He grinned and said that was exactly what they needed. They were going to have some good clean fun with us, and that internal flushing made it possible.

He told me that having clean intestines was the purpose of the total gut flushing. They’d used a lot of water, with quite a bit of pressure, and I think it must have gone all the way up to our stomachs. I’d never been subjected to that kind of deep cleaning before, and although the pressure inside me was intense, I found it felt interesting.

As soon as we were all cleaned inside, they treated us to three long rows of snow each. It was amazingly good shit, and it really brightened us up. They told us right up front that some of us were snorting cornstarch with just a tinkle of coke in it to disguise that, as an experiment, but didn’t tell us what their so-called experiment was all about.

They said they just wanted to see what kind of difference it made. Whatever. It was sort of fun, trying to guess if we were getting the real thing or just some fake shit. It smelled right, and it made me feel relaxed. That could be the placebo effect, but who the fuck cared?

After all, if you think it’s good shit, it is good shit. Simple as that. When the coke rows were all inhaled, they asked us to cross our arms behind our backs, with each hand grasping the opposite elbow. They took some cotton rope, which is soft for the skin, and doesn’t stretch,

They used it to tie our arms tightly together, hands to elbows, right across our backs. This was no problem, because we all knew coming in that there would be some bondage, and I could handle that. I’d done rope before, and these guys were taking good care of us by using the soft cotton kind.

Doing our arms behind our back was an interesting kind of bondage, and was really cool, because we couldn’t use our arms or hands, and had to keep our feet apart to keep our balance, which kept our naked cunts fully exposed. I loved that. These guys knew what they were doing.

This was going to be a lot of fun, I could feel it. Or maybe that was the coke working. Whatever. We were then moved into the main party room, and told to stand against the full-length windows, facing them, to lean forward and press our big breasts against the glass.

They reminded us nobody could see in the way we could see out. Then we had to spread out legs so the guys could come up behind us and fuck us doggy style, but standing up. It was just like the seeding game we’d all been playing before we came to this party but without the seed part.

The guys surprised me by being really aggressive and rough with their cocks, ramming into us without caring or anything about us, all of them copulating hard but without cuming, just driving their rigid dicks into us fast and furious, the heads slamming against our cervix.

Or up our assholes, giving us a great power fuck up the ass so that our breasts were crushed against the glass. At least we had a great view of Manhattan out the windows while getting ourselves thoroughly fucked, without any of the guys shooting an ejaculation into us.

We were not really having sex, we were just being fucked, like a row of sexual animals. They were just showing us who we were, and what they thought of us. If you treat cunts like cunts, then everybody knows where they stand. I personally thought it was totally cool, regardless. They were just recognizing the true worth of a cunt.

When we’d all been thoroughly and repeatedly solidly fucked front and back, but none of us seeded, they gathered our hair to the back and took the time to give each of us a long single braid. We thought it was special that guys would take the time to make us look great.

They tied a short length of the cotton rope to the braid so that it dangled down our backs. All of us girls looked really sexy with our hair done the same way, and all of us were starting to look the same. These guys knew exactly where this was headed, and we were having fun learning their intentions.

I mean how often does a girl get to have a good-looking rich guy do her hair? Then they went right over the top, and what they did made me get mad as hell, but I couldn’t do shit about it with my arms tied behind my back. Holding our braid up to control the position of our heads, they shaved the sides of our heads clean, clearing off most of the sides of my fucking head!

Then they used permanent ink to stamp on our heads PIG on the front of our forehead, and SOW on the clean shaved sides of our heads. I think they put SOW and PIG on my head, but the truth is I couldn’t see it, I could just see what they’d done to the other cunts beside me.

I never gave them any permission to do that to me, and they didn’t ask me before they did it. This bullshit was totally uncalled for, and I was starting to get really pissed off with these guys and their fucking bondage party. They were going too far with us.

I had to admit they had done this right because there was nothing any of us naked-bound cunts could do about it to protest. I mean, we could have kicked them in the nuts or something, but party girls ended their fucking careers if they ever did anything like that.

Word spread fast, and if we did anything that outrageous we’d end up on the street as fucking whores. Only the guys got to play rough with us, never us with them. They could kick us in the cunt if they wanted to, and some of my male friends, the stockbrokers, did that to us when they wanted to.

When we got a swift, painful kick in the cunt, we knew it was nothing personal, it was just the guys trying to take off steam when they got home from work if trading hadn’t gone well. That’s the way it works, and we’d just have to take it. After all, that’s the way things go for New York party girls.

One of the guys had a bag of strange-looking restraints, made of two four-inch-long metal rods clamped together on either end, with little rings at the ends, and the rings had little chains attached to them. They were made to stay closed, but they could be spread with a lot of pressure.

He pried the rods as far apart as he could, grabbed and pulled my tongue out as far as he could, and then put this clamp over it, holding my tongue out so I couldn’t speak as the clamp was released to pinch my tongue hard as if it was trying to close, and it hurt like hell.

The next thing he did was to take off my earrings, and he put a pair of thicker and larger brass rings in my ears. I could see they were doing the same thing to the other girls. At least they were treating it the same, so it was fair. I would find it to be unacceptable if they didn’t treat us the same.

Then he pulled the chains from the ends of the tongue clamp back and attached them to the new rings in my ears, pulling my ear lobes forward hard while pulling the clamp painfully back in my mouth. I was now starting to hate that fucking tongue clamp. What were they planning to do to us?

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen one of these, but two other guys put a big-ass anchor into me. It’s a common sex toy, just an inch-thick chrome tube with a ball on one end a ring on the other, and a sharp bend in the middle of it. When installed in a woman, the bend is pressed against her tailbone, and the outside part goes up her back.

The ball was pushed into my asshole and thrust right in at least a foot deep until the bend in the pile touched my rectum, so it was securely anchored inside me. The bend in the pipe was turned so that the rest of the pipe, the part outside me, went halfway up my back.

There was a ring on the other end of the pipe, and the rope dangling from my braid was tied through the ring and pulled, and tied so tight that my back was severely bent around my bound arms. They were using my hair to lock the bum anchor in place by pulling it so fucking tight.

My face was now aimed straight up at the ceiling, and my big tits pointed forward, stressed like the heads of torpedoes. The other girls were being prepared in the same way. This was really abusive. They had a tall stepladder and used it to go up and attach big pulleys to those hooks solidly set in the ceiling.

With my head bent back so severely, it was easy to watch them in a ceiling mirror, although I couldn’t see anything forward of me until I noticed there were mirrors all over the ceiling as well as the walls. When I noticed those, I realized I could actually see just about everything.

Long thick ropes were put on the pulleys and hung down out of sight, probably all the way to the floor. I was made to move under a pair of ropes at one end of the long row hanging from their pulleys. The guys holding me each tied a rope around my breasts and pulled them way too tight.

This not only hurt like hell, but it made my big tits bulge obscenely. This party was now getting totally abusive of us New York party girls. This was turning into a typical fucking New York party. That’s why they were willing to pay us so much for us to be part of this.

The mirrors on the ceiling meant that even bound as we were with our heads pulled back, looking straight up, we could see everything that was happening in the large room. I couldn’t talk with the clamp on my tongue, but there was nothing to keep me from screaming my fucking lungs out.

That wasn’t the worst of it. They started pulling on the ropes, taking up the slack, and then they actually lifted me right up off the floor so that even with my heels on I couldn’t touch it. I was hanging by my fucking big bound tits! This was worse than being rented to that asshole who hung me by the neck.

You have to get yourself into a situation where you’re tit-hung to know how much that hurts. Next, they jammed a big rubber ring cunt stretcher, bigger than anything my friends had used on me, into my cunt, forcing the birth canal shaft to stand wide open, like the mouth of an out-of-water carp.

With the big rubber ring in, everyone could actually see right up inside it, to see the pink dimple of my fucking cervix. I kicked my legs like mad, doing an obscene air dance in my spike heels. I realized this was exactly what these assholes wanted, and I was really getting into it.

The desperate kicking of my legs caused a lot more action on my clit clamp, and its additional movement got me even more horny, if that’s possible. I was experiencing a full, continuous orgasm. I have to tell you that as much as I was being abused, and you’d have to call it sexual abuse, it was all getting to be fucking awesome.

One by one the other girls were hauled up by the tits, until all nine of us swung like naked sows in a long row, all kicking, swinging and slowly turning back and forth by our bound tortured tits, with several of us actually pissing from the pain, me included. I usually don’t do that, but it is a New York thing.

The guys were gathered around for a great look at tit-hanging cunts, all of us bound into a contorted look with those fucking ass anchors tied tightly to our hair, keeping our backs severely arched. All I could think of was that I was really earning the money they’d paid me.

Thank God it was a lot of cash, with no paper trail, so I wouldn’t have to pay any taxes on it. Then I panicked, realizing that they could easily go through our purses and take back the money we’d been paid, while we swung here by our tits and doing this obscene dance. They fucking had us, but good.

This whole thing was a setup, and the guys who were our friends who brought us here were likely in on it and would get some of our money for having sucked us in. When I got out of here, I was going to make them all sorry they ever did this horrible thing to us.

What they were doing to us was so bad I was certain it had to be illegal. I wished to God I didn’t find it so fucking hot! Now something I thought was worst of all happened. The guys brought these forty-pound weights out, released the rope from one of our tits, and tied it to a weight.

Now one big bound tit was taking all our weight, and the other was being pulled severely down by a big fucking weight. The new weight was also being supported by the other abused tit as well. I hated these assholes. Even my friends at the sprog-dropping parties had never treated me this badly.

At those amazing birthing parties, when I’d been ass-fucked three different times, like on three different occasions, I’d been forced to pop my pups out. That was then, this was now. I sort of hated that, although it was exciting, but really hated this. It was bullshit, and I couldn’t do shit about it.

The weight on one tit pulled on me so hard that my whole fucking torso twisted. With one tit being pulled up and the other down, I was being bent severely and had to look really grotesque. All this was happening while I was cuming like a fucking pig, if a pig is able to cum, which is possible, I guess,

I was hanging like a fucking pig too, one set up to be gutted, slaughtered, and butchered. In this new position, I could see horizontally, because of the skew in my body. There was nothing I wanted to see. My neck was in almost as much pain as my tits because of the pull on my braid to my fucking bent pipe asshole anchor.

The other eight cunts were in bad shape too, and all of us were drooling from the tight steel rod clamps on our tongues. When all the girls got a weight tied to one of her big tits, so that their breasts were stretched wide apart, one up and the other down, things suddenly got a whole lot more serious.

This was even worse than anything I’d ever heard of, even in New York, where just about every filthy disgusting thing being done to New York party girls was possible, which was why we were in the scene to begin with. I was now part of the most shocking party ever!

All the men were fully dressed, but now they were a whole lot more interested. They got their cocks out, stroked them to full erection, and then started pumping on them, fucking their fists at the sight of us, like they knew exactly what was going to happen to us, and it excited them. A lot.

We didn’t know what was coming, but that was probably a good thing. It was exciting, although we were pretty sure it wasn’t going to be pretty. A big muscular guy wearing only some work boots and a huge raging erection came in, carrying a small hunting knife.

He had a deep tan like he lived his life on the beach, but in New York, it was more likely he spent a lot of time stretched out in a tanning salon. His big cock curved stiffly up, his fucking big penis bouncing and his balls swinging with every step. This naked guy was a seriously bad-looking dude.

I was the first in line, and he came straight toward me. I could see when he got close how sharp that fucking knife was. I was so scared I would have shit, except my gut, like with all the girls, had been flushed clean, and I had that damned butt anchor stuffed up me.

I also became aware that my clit was swelling and sliding a bit more inside my tight clit clamp, and I started a fresh series of ever greater orgasms, as those little teeth irritated my sex meat, and now it made me cum totally non-stop. I’d never been in a situation where I knew I would die, for the pleasure of the group of men who had obtained us.

All at once I could see these guys had planned this whole thing as a bitch butchering party, and they were going to kill and gut us all, just like the row of hanging pigs, we were! Even in the Big Apple that wasn’t such a common thing to happen, at least as far as I knew, and I was in the scene.

There was no way we could have ever guessed that was what the fuck we were getting ourselves into when our boyfriends who owned us outright brought us to party at this big exclusive penthouse. As I swung by my tortured tit I could see the long row of my girlfriends, all of them swinging by a tit like I was.

They were all desperately and uselessly kicking their gorgeous legs, with a big weight pulling down on the other tit, forcing their torsos to twist, wearing that outrageous and humiliating tongue clamp and asshole anchor. Shit, these swinging bound young broads, my girlfriends, looked way sexier than I’d ever seen them! My orgasms expanded.

As they swung around I could see everything about them, all of them wearing the asshole anchor with their braid pulling their heads back, severely arching their backs, the obscene tongue clamps preventing them from talking but not screaming, and all wearing those dehumanizing insulting stamps on their heads, PIG and SOW. Just like me.

They really did look like a row of naked pigs hanging in the slaughterhouse.  This whole insane party scene was fucking unbelievable.  And riding a non-stop orgasm, I also found it so fucking hot, even though I was pretty sure I was going to get myself gutted and butchered!

Suddenly, seeing the guys who were watching us and were all energetically jacking off, my clit felt like it was going to explode inside its clamp, and this stimulated me toward an even greater orgasm.  This was outrageous.  I was being sexually stimulated by the intense desperation of my situation.

I felt like I was now a fucking jack-off queen! Of course, all New York party girls were. That’s what it was all about. The more I realized how desperate my situation was, the more my clit rose, sliding inside the fucking clit clip against those tiny metal teeth, which made me more desperately horny.

The truth was this was so fucking hot I was totally getting off on it.  I probably didn’t even need the cocaine. My clit was on fire.  I couldn’t believe it.  I gave in to total orgasm, and the knot of sexual excitement in my belly just kept on growing. I would definitely have shit now if I’d had any in me, and if my asshole wasn’t fucking plugged.

The naked dude grabbed my neck to stop me from the slow swinging, and with everyone watching closely, stuck the tip of his knife against my lower belly.  He made a brief jab, and the tip cut into my meat. Not deep, but it did go right through my fucking bacon, more than an inch.

The blade was very sharp, and I didn’t feel much pain, just a warm burning feeling.  The coke coursing through my system was working.  Slowly he moved the blade upward, slicing it toward my navel.  This should have hurt a lot more, I realized, and now knew I’d sniffed rows of real honest shit.

I felt sorry a bit for the poor cunts who’d got to sniff nothing but fucking cornstarch. I hoped the others were wearing passive clit clamps like mine because there was no way they could pull the little chains of the active ones, with their arms bound behind their backs.

The naked son of a bitch with the knife was their butcher and was ripping me like a dangling pig.  Without thinking about it, I began squealing like a stuck pig, which was exactly what I was right now.  In the mirrors, I could see a few of the guys starting to dribble semen, and a few of them spurt their cum.

They shot it up in the air, ejaculating like a row of shameless studs. A few more guys started to shoot when the blade slicing open my belly moved past my navel, and I could feel a loop of my guts start to slither out.  I could see it in the mirror! This was so obscene I couldn’t stand it.

I started to buck, without meaning to, like a cunt rutting in heat, getting herself an air fuck.  I couldn’t believe how much this disgusting and very personal gutting of me was turning me on.  I was the ultimate party girl! The blade stopped moving when it reached my sternum.

The guy wielding it dropped it to the floor, stuck his fingers into the cut, and used both hands to spread my split bacon and pull out my tripe, eviscerating me alive.  It was so bizarre feeling my intestines wiggling out I started to giggle, which is quite a trick with your tongue stretched so far forward.

That didn’t work that well, so I went back to squealing like a stuck pig, which it turns out is exactly what I by this time was, hanging bare naked in what was turning out to be a New York butcher shop. To be more exact, I was now being a butchered sow. I hated that this would be my last such experience.

The naked dude reached down and picked up the knife again, and I couldn’t believe it when he cut my tripe free, so it made a heap of girlie guts on the floor.  Now the guys could see my vital organs inside me.  I was otherwise hollowed out like I was ready for roasting like a fucking pig or something stupid.

Now the naked asshole reached in with his bare hand and with the knife, and he cut off my uterus, ovaries, and all.  With all the guys watching, he sliced it, like he was doing a pregnancy test.  He peeled my detached gonad open, and sure as fuck, there was a tiny sprog in me, just starting to form.  Well, it was not in me anymore.

I was fucking pregnant!  Or at least I had been.  This little sprog would never be born, because I was being killed, and for no good reason, except for the entertainment of these asshole party guys, who got their rocks off by watching naked breast-hung women being slaughtered like dangling pigs.

All of the assholes were jacking off their raging cocks like mad watching it happen.  This was the kind of shit that got them off. As it was turning out, New York parties were becoming more sophisticated. I had heard that sometimes girls were killed at parties, but that was just a rumor.

These guys weren’t the only ones getting their rocks off.  My clit felt like it was now standing firm like a rigid little cock, and to top it off I was in the midst of a gigantic orgasm.  All of this with my fucking guts and uterus pulled out!  Now I was really starting to feel like a butchered sow.

Thank God for the high-quality cocaine they gave us, I thought, or at least gave to some of us.  From what I could see, the other girls were responding to the action of their clit clamps like I was, and even as they screamed at the horror of what was happening to me, all of them were now experiencing obvious orgasm, as bound and tit-swinging human sows cuming.

To tell the truth, I couldn’t imagine a girl being brought to a party like this one, being bound and strung up like this by her tits, even if she was having a tremendous orgasm, as I was, and getting herself gutted alive with everyone who was watching jacking off, some already ejaculating as she was being killed.

No fucking New York party cunt would do this without having lots of great coke running through her system.  Did they lie about the cornstarch and their experiment? I didn’t think so. Some of the girls who would follow me didn’t have any snow in their systems, they had just snorted simple cornstarch.

Take it from me, getting myself bound, strung up naked by my tits with a big weight hanging from one of them, getting a butt anchor installed, and then getting myself gutted like that at a New York sex party would be totally intolerable without three rows of snow in me, for sure.

I saw the nude dude who’d ripped me was starting to get his rocks off.  He had his knife in one fist, my split-open uterus in the other, and he made bulging muscles with his arms as if he was some kind of fucking champion.  I could see his erect prick pulsing, as he performed an energetic air fuck.

He threw his head back and thrust his groin forward, bucking it in a rutting rhythm. It was obvious the merciless bitch butcher was going to start ejaculating, he was so into it.  He threw my split-open uterus high in the air, and I realized he was going to try to catch it on the head of his cum-spouting cock!

His big balls were swinging right in front of me, and having nothing to lose, I suddenly swung my foot in the most powerful kick I could muster, considering I was bound terribly and had just been completely gutted.  It turned out my kick at his nuts was more than enough.

My uterus came down on the top of his cum-spurting erection and bounced off, and then the toe of my shoe met his big balls, right between them.  It slid off, the pointed toe digging into his rectum, and the bare top of my foot crushed the tough semen-generating testicles hard into his groin, pushing them back up where they had originated.

With that one desperate and hateful kick I had made this asshole bitch butcher into an emasculated Eunuch. His voice would be an octave higher! He would not get to butcher the rest of the row of human sows. Now they would have to get someone else to do it.

And worst of all, at least in the short term, was that this prick I’d just neutered would be unlikely to get paid! Everyone knows that’s how things work in New York. If the job isn’t completed to your total satisfaction, no money for you, ever, you’ll have to sue, and that would not be an option for him.

The look of pain and then unbounded rage on his face would have burned a hole right through the wall.  He was mad as hell and was suddenly struck with revenge. With a single stride toward me, his knife swung up through the gaping rip in my belly, and it plunged directly and deeply into the meat of my pounding heart.  The pounding stopped.

Holy shit! Look at this! This can’t be fucking happening to me! Everybody, even my Daddy, knows I’m a good girl!

FUUUUUUUUUCK!
THE END