The Bondage Whore, Chapter 8

The Bondage Whore, by Rachel St. Clair, All Rights Reserved.


Chapter 8 - The Regulars

One of Rachel's most sadistic regular customers was a man she nicknamed "Saddam". Saddam was, Rachel estimated, an arab man in his forties that without a doubt, got off on making Rachel suffer. Saddam tended to visit on slow nights, when Jimmy and Joe would allow him maximum time with Rachel, which meant he was a Sunday night regular.

On this particularly slow Sunday night, locked in position, anticipating another unwanted visit from Saddam, Rachel remembered back to his very first visit: on that slow Sunday Saddam had walked into the room, and literally stood still, unmoving, for a full five minutes, easy. Rachel had heard the door open, click closed, then, nothing... Her mind immediately started playing tricks on her. Is he there? What's going on? What is he doing? Her body sensitive to a surprise touch she anticipated.... But still, nothing. Dildo gagged, immobilized, her mind raced. It was almost as if Saddam knew that would happen. Now that Rachel knew him well, she thought, "A perfect entrance." That first night, he had of course given Rachel a man-handling she would never forget, including aggressive anal sex.

Rachel's mind now thought back to the other various nasty surprises that Saddam had recently subjected her to. On his second visit, he had taken his usual anal sex, of course, after placing the tortuous laundry clamps on Rachel's nipples, which was always his first action upon arrival. Once done with anal, he had purposefully gone about carressing Rachel's boobs, ass, and upper thighs. He even playfully tapped the tip of Rachel's nose. Rachel had been totally confused about that, and wondered what he was up to. Saddam had then exited, leaving the nipple clamps on, as usual, and minutes after he left Rachel started to realize what had happened. Those carresses were Saddam rubbing itching powder on her!

Now on a slow Sunday, Carmen would not necessarily clean Rachel right away, possibly not until the next customer arrived. Even at that, Rachel realized, she'd never notice this. "That ASSHOLE!" was all the poor bondage whore could manage to think as her body started to scream with itches she could not do anything about.

And as if poor Rachel finally thought that that was the worst thing Saddam could dream up to subject her to, just two Sundays later he managed to top it. Again, it was a slow night, and Saddam arrived at around his usual time. He had subjected Rachel to his typical rough scene, and, with the nasty laundry clamps firmly in place on Rachel's by now quite toughened nipples, had seemingly quietly exited. Or so Rachel thought until a few minutes after he left, when she heard that distinctive buzz of a mosquito near her ear. "That BASTARD!", thought Rachel as she felt the first bite on her ass cheek, bucking her hips as best she could to try to shake it off. Moments later, she felt one on her side, shaking again, followed immediately by a third on her right tit. Rachel again heard the buzz around her face, even as she took another bite on her upper thigh, and realized he had let loose more than one. What would have been a nice quiet Sunday evening relaxing in her bondage was now going to be pure torture for poor Rachel as minutes would now pass as hours. "Oh if I ever get a chance to get even with Saddam...." Rachel consoled herself, constantly bucking against her bondage, trying desperately to avoid getting bit, plotting a revenge that would never come.

Then of course there was good old Professor Tim. Professor Tim was a man of about mid fifties, under six feet tall, graying, and fit for his age. For Rachel, Tim was the antithesis of Saddam, a man whose visits she very much looked forward to. Tim would visit once or twice a week, always on a weekday night, and basically just liked getting head from Rachel, and talking. As soon as he'd arrive he'd take off Rachel's dildo gag, and ask Rachel how she was doing. He really seemed to care about Rachel too. Rachel had been around on the streets long enough to know people pretty well, and was not easily fooled. Tim would tell Rachel all about his f****y, his job (as a history professor at the university nearby), his marathon running, and loved to talk about everything from politics to the weather to sports and finance. For Rachel, he was a very welcome break, and a glimmer of reality amidst the insanity of her tortured existence. Rachel was never much of a newspaper reader, but she found a lot of Tim's discourses on the politics of the day quite interesting, and often wound up herself in quite animated (although restrained) conversation with him. Tim was also quite well off, and could afford to buy a long block of Rachel's time, so after Rachel satisfied him orally, he'd pull up a chair, sit in front of her, and open a beer. Tim would usually bring a couple, and he'd let Rachel have a few sips here and there, holding it to her lips for her.

Another Sunday regular was "The Preacher." Rachel didn't know his real name, and didn't want to either. Aside from Saddam, he was probably the person she most hated to see walk into her room. Typically Rachel could count on him as her first customer every Sunday. The Preacher was a tall thin man with black hair and a half beard and moustache. Rachel guessed he was in his early thirties. From the moment he arrived, the "preacher" immediately started to villify Rachel verbally, calling her a "sick whore", a "sinner", and just about anything else he could think of. Worse still, after the hypocrite (as Rachel thought of him) took sex from her, he'd start lecturing her on religion and God and how she must "mend her ways" so she can make it into the kingdom of heaven, all while whipping Rachel's ass, legs, and breasts with the cat of nine tails. Rachel simply thought that he himself was the sick one. Not once, in all his visits had he ever removed her dildo gag. "I guess he doesn't want to hear what I think of his lectures", Rachel thought of that.

Then there were "The Cowboys", as Rachel nicknamed them. Two b*****rs, around twenty five years old, weekend regulars, usually Saturday night. No doubt they always had had a few at The Sidebar, Rachel thought, although that did not hinder their performance. Rachel would brace herself when she heard them d***kenly enter behind her, as anything could happen with them, and usually did. Joe always hovered nearby when they visited Rachel. Loud and obnoxious, they got their nickname from Rachel for the way they hooted and hollered the first time they saw Rachel spread lewdly and locked up for them that first night. Indeed the one named Andy let out a rodeo scream the first time he mounted Rachel, as Rachel's lips were locked on b*****r Tommy's cock. During a visit from "The Cowboys", it was basically one long non-stop grope/assault of Rachel from the moment they arrived until the moment they d***kenly stumbled out the door.

And speaking of "cowboys", there was of course, "The Texan". Rachel met him that very first night, and the ritual was always the same. He loved anal sex, and then would always f***e Rachel to lick his cock clean, which Rachel hated with a passion. Of all the horrible aspects of this job, Rachel realized taking his shit-covered cock into her mouth was the one thing she'd eliminate if she could choose and get rid of one. Not that he was the only one who did this. Saddam occasionally also did this, as well as two other semi-regulars, but none of them had a cock quite like "The Texan", a huge cock which ripped Rachel apart, then, to add insult to injury, took longer for her to lick clean.

Of course whenever Rachel thought of the Texan and his huge cock, her mind couldn't help but move to Leon, who no doubt was the possessor of the largest cock, or more exactly, BBC, that Rachel had ever seen. Rachel loved and looked forward to his visits, but he wasn't really a regular, having used Rachel only three times. Aside from his cock, which he claimed was twelve inches at full erection, and massive in girth as well, Leon was a true sweetheart. Upon arrival he always immediately removed Rachel's gag, and never replaced it. He loved to sweet talk and tease Rachel, listened to her, and seemed to really care about her too. Not once did he ever spank her, or inflict pain on her.

Leon's big turn-on was the verbal thrust and volley, and was constantly jabbering at Rachel, in particular teasing her about her beauty, or lack of it, as he loved to get a reaction out of her. And he knew that insulting Rachel's looks was a sure way to do it! Of course Rachel knew the game, and enjoyed it. Leon was a joy to host, and in each of his few visits, he always playfully but carefully pushed Rachel to new limits, particularly orally. His goal, which scared Rachel a little, was for her to deep throat him all the way to his balls! On his last visit, Rachel had been proud of her oral performance, but had in fact only managed to take in a bit more than half. Still, she looked forward to future visits from Leon.

One of Rachel's oddest clients were the couple she referred to as "The Dagwoods". A very normal looking couple, each around their mid forties or so, but Rachel quickly found out that looks certainly can be deceiving. On their very first visit it was quite obvious that "Brunhilda", as Rachel nicknamed the woman, was definately in charge. "Roger", as Rachel nicknamed the man, was locked in a tiny hard plastic chastity tube! Rachel had stared in disbelief that very first visit when she saw that. She had no clue how he'd be able to use her. However, it soon made some sense when Brunhilda explained that if Roger was good, then each month he'd get to have his chastity tube removed so he could get his release. And that's where Rachel came in. Brunhilda would release Roger's cock from its tiny prison, and he'd get to use Rachel's mouth to his satisfaction, while Brunhilda tortured Rachel from behind. Brunhilda loved using the strap-on dildo on her anally, and always attacked her dangling boobs with the riding crop or leather slapper.

Fortunately for Rachel it wouldn't take long for Roger to shoot his long suppressed load in her mouth, and Brunhilda insisted on re-locking him immediately. That usually spared Rachel from the worst Brunhilda had in store for her but not always. Apparently if Roger had been a particularly "bad boy" all month, Rachel usually got pretty well roughed up as a result even after Roger was re-locked.

Rachel never could figure out how that was fair, but slowly she was coming to realize that there was very little fairness in the world for poor locked up Bondage Whores!


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Stay tuned, more to come...

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Categories: BDSMFetishShemales
Posted by thongcutoffs
3 years ago    Views: 834
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2 years ago
you have quite a verided clientel
jay
3 years ago
nice!
3 years ago
good
3 years ago
Life in the brothel
3 years ago
very good
3 years ago
Wonderful stories nice to have some background on clients and their needs. I hope you get your revenge on Saddam at the end of your series.

Quentin
3 years ago
Nice to hear some background about the clients..the dagwoods seem like a good pair to work on
3 years ago
it was good to hear about her clients, I would like to know more about Leon, and the Professor please
A xxx