© Copyright 2012 - Siobhann - Used by permission
Storycodes: F+/mf; latex; catsuits; captives; bond; zipties; gag; bagged; dumpster; truck; compacted; trash; sex; climax; cons/reluct; XX
Night time in Nightown. The Rubber Road Race is a game the Thrill Snuff Kult likes to play. The runners anonymous in their latex catsuits are released from some unnamed flat in the nightclub district, and must reach the TSK lair for safety and an orgy. But that is only if the roving sluts of the night don't capture them first.
Peaches and I had been in the trunk of a limo, swept up by the Thrill Snuff Kult as we ran down some alley. We were slaves in the Rubber Road Race, and this is how it ends for us. Climbing out of the trunk, standing in the yard, we watch as the car pulls away, the large solid wood gate closes, and we are trapped here. We had been rounded up and brought here to the back yard of the nightclub Kreamerz. Out by the dumpsters and garbage cans full of bottles. Urban gritty clutter of old buildings and hip neighborhoods. Poorly lit mix of streetlights and shadows, high fences and brick walls, definite trouble. No way out. TSK Studs stand guard by the Kreamerz doors, by the gate, and at least a dozen Studs and Sluts are scattered around the yard, drinking, dancing, fucking and watching us.
Peaches and I had our hoods pulled off before we were released from the car trunk, but our bodies were otherwise still covered by the tight latex enclosure we started the game in. She looked fabulous as the black latex hugged her every curve, cupping, lifting her pendulous breasts, swaying ever so gently, her large ass a glorious curvy rump of shimmering, erotic invitation, the latex gently tugs her cheeks apart. Sweat soaks her spunky, funky close cropped platinum blond hair shining in what light finds her. She looks perfect.
The cool evening air caresses my sweaty head, freed from its latex enclosure, I hope I look as sexy to her as she does to me. My cock is so hard it hurts, my erection trapped in its latex enclosure, standing straight out, I am bruised and battered from our trip in the limo. And the slaps from the TSK girls.
We lean up against the wall, the high brick wall surrounding the yard, preventing our escape. As the TSK party raves on, they let us two slaves have some fun off to the side. I push Peaches up against the wall, my rubber-sheathed cock finding her rubber-lined pussy, I slide in and we fuck. The feeling is terrific, skin tight latex so thin I can feel every bit of her, but so tight my cock is tortured by the loving squeeze of her cunt. I moan in her ears, she moans back, she loves fucking in public, as we fondle and molest each others bodies with our hands, tongues, teeth. The TSK likes to use potions and lotions and drugs on their victims, each runner gets a hypo shot to start the game. The Die Hard Witches Brew works its magic, and we are unable to climax, getting just past the point of orgasmic inevitability, but not releasing. The sexual torture of it is exquisite, we lose ourselves to the lust.
Juliette. I see her watching us. Her mass of curly brunette hair, her dead white skin, those Monroe curves, I always wanted to fuck her, but I suspect now that she will fuck me. Fuck with me, fuck me over, I am so fucked. Juliette is dressed like me, a slaves catsuit but no hood, so I can only assume that she is part of the game. But apparently, someone in the Thrill Snuff Kult made her a trustee, gave her freedom at this party to explore her fantasies.
She approaches us, we are next. Not a chance to run, no where to run to, the people at the party are watching us, so all we can do is wait while Juliette walks up to us, and looks us over. Peaches and I are still fucking, but we slow down, and watch Juliette. “Oh we are so dead” Peach whispers to me. Not a hint of fear, but her voice is tinged with anticipation, excitement. I squeeze her tighter, blushing at the thought, her whispered voice, her warm breath on me, proclaiming that we “are so dead” actually turns me on more. I know it, she knows it, Juliette knows it. Only Juliette knows just how, too.
“Break” Juliette orders us “and come over here”. She walks to the middle of the yard, where everyone can watch us, can see us.
I slide out of her cunt, we find our balance, and slowly walk towards Juliette. We have to, she ordered us. I feel thrilled by the attention she is going to give us, thrilled to be dominated by a babe as sexy as she is. As I get closer to her, her perfect body glistening in the light, her hand impatiently slapping a crop on her thigh, I get butterflies in my tummy, get all tense and lightheaded and scared all at once. Her eyes are so warm, so deep, I drown in them, focus only on them, and walk to her by force of her will. My stomach is a tingling mess, I can't remember if I am breathing, I just want to surrender to her. Her crop points to a spot on the ground, and I stand there. Peaches stands next to me, quivering, impatient.
Juliette moves up next to us, pulling us closer to each other, all of our faces now just inches apart.
“You are so dead” Juliette whispers. I close my eyes, thrilled by her breathy voice. I want to cum so bad, I am so ready to cum, my cocksheath filling up with precum, dripping from me. The damned DieHard has me stuck, or else I would have climaxed at her threat. I can hear my blond sex friend moaning low next to me, she is also ready to blast off, explode into the total ecstasies of being the snuff chump.
We stand there, an entertainment, a toy, reduced to a mere fetish object for the prying eyes of the TSK. Our killer motions, and her helpers begin to work on me, on us, a pre-arranged bondage. Wordlessly, which makes it even more surreal, my body is bound by a Slut from the TSK, skinny punk-goth babe who enjoys this way too much.
Ankle cuffs of leather, wrist cuffs, thigh cuffs, all with d-rings, a matching posture collar holding my head upright. Peaches is getting the same treatment, we are watching each other, helpless, becoming even more helpless, thrilled by it all. My arms are pushed down by my side, and the slut doing me produces some large, black plastic zip ties. The d-rings on my wrist are zip tied to my thigh restraints, palms on my legs.
Juliette makes a motion, waving her hands gently, instructing her minions to push us together. Peaches and I bump bellies, face to face.
“Fuck” Juliette orders. I wriggle down, push against the latex I had recently penetrated, pushing myself into her body, my cock finds her magical cunt, her sweet, hungry cunt, and I slide into Peaches warm body. We are pressed tight, almost falling, our captors holding us steady. Instantly, zip ties grab our ankles, all four bound together, more ties wrap our legs, wrists, our bodies squeezing tight, my cock pushing in deeper, as our wrists, thighs are locked together, the long plastic straps winding around us, threading the d-rings, the sharp 'zip' noise as the Slut pulls tight, pulls hard, the plastic strip digging in to flesh. The Slut pulls hard, her shoulder in my back, we are zipped up tight.
Tongues, lips, breath, we kiss as hard as we can, losing our battle for sanity, debasing ourselves into simple creatures of lust. No thoughts in my mind but fucking and kissing, our mouths hungry for each other, her breasts pushed up tight against me, pressed flat, feeling very sexy, our nipples rubbing each other. My cock is locked into her now, we are so tight we cannot thrust, grind or move. Even the hard, bony hands of the girls holding us upright are sensual in my back.
Juliette approaches us, grabs my head, pulls it back. We stop kissing.
“Oh you are so dead” she repeats. A smile cracking her lips, a smile of desire, her tongue just tipping out, like a snake, tasting our fear. “So fucking dead. My dears”. She doesn't laugh, but just grins at us for a moment. And then says “I bet you always wanted to die with a cock in your face” and she wrenches my head back, my mouth opens wide in surprise, and she stuffs a dildo in there. Her hands clasp around my face, closing my jaws down, holding the big rubber dick in my mouth. All I can taste is rubber. It is just big enough to fill my mouth, not long enough to choke me, and the balls hit me squarely on the chin. It is a double dildo, the opposite shaft pointing out from me. Pointing right at Peaches mouth.
Peaches is amazed, enthralled by her own submission. She whispers “make me... make me... make me die with a cock in my mouth”. She is panting gasping desperate to taste the dildo. Juliette pushes the back of my head towards that mouth, pushes the blond hair towards me, that rubber cock slides into Peaches willing mouth, her lips surrounding it, her face fucked by it. Zip, zip our collars are snugged together, the zip ties drawing us together, locking the dildo into our mouths, stuffing us, stuck. We cannot separate our heads, cannot pull back. We are stuck getting facefucked together. We stare into each others eyes, and can only think “we are so fucking dead” but at least we will be dead together.
Zips ties big enough to circle us go around, our legs, calves, ass, shoulders, the small of the back, even one around our heads. Zip zip the sluts pull them tight, trapping us forever, trapped fucking. What a sight we must make for the crowd looking at us, watching us, cheering for our imminent snuffing. I can only hope they are as turned on as I am.
Now the scene changes, the finish is revealed to us. The gate at the back of the yard is pulled open and the gap is filled by the ass of an old garbage truck, backing into the yard. One of those old style trucks, where the cans are dumped in a rear hopper, a big plate swinging down and smashing the trash into the body of the truck. The noise of air brakes and engines, the stench of garbage and hydraulics and diesel fill the yard. Hopping down from the cab, a babe of a driver, Ms Fine, in oil stained coveralls and old combat boots, a baseball cap on her head, smiles at the crowd and leans up against her truck, waiting.
The back of the truck, the gaping hopper where the trash is thrown in, now becomes the center of the party. A trash bag is dragged to the truck by a TSK stud. The bag is woman-shaped, with a big knot tied atop the head, by which the stud drags it to the truck. A shimmering garbage bag writhing in the streetlight, woman-shaped and squirming, Ms Fine grabs the feet and the two together lift the bag, then drop it into the hopper, feed it to the truck. The bag begins to scream, beg, plead. But to no avail, the Stud backs away, Ms Fine stands by the side of the truck, her leather gloved hands fondling the levers and knobs of her beloved truck.
Ms Fine likes what she sees, and decides to give it a spin. Pulling levers, the engine revs up, the truck shakes a little, and the big steel plate swings down, scooping everything in the hopper, pushing it into the truck, crushing it into the body of the truck, mixing it with the rest of the trash. Even with the whining and grinding of the big machine, the slaves cries could be heard, much to the delight of the party goers. The truck reverses its crush, the steel plate rises, exposing its' empty, hungry mouth ready for more trash.
Now the focus returns to us. Juliette and a few TSK killers surround us, she has decided we now understand her game. The grasping strong arms of a couple of Studs encircle us, grab us, lifting our feet off the ground. A black plastic garbage bag is slid under, we are placed down onto it. The Studs hold us steady, the Sluts pull the bag up, making us trash, pulling the bag around our bound, trapped bodies. We look like we are in some erotic sack race, a race to the finish. The Sluts and Studs work around us as the bag is pulled up over our heads. We feel it closing in on us, the plastic wrapping us, clinging to our heads, tugging on our arms. Now we are all the way in, the black plastic covering is over our heads, like we had sunk into a pool of darkness, drowning in a latex pond. We have enough air to keep breathing, the bag is not that tight, and we can last a while in here. The top of the bag is snugged tight, formed into a knot, and zipped tied shut. We look like a big garbage bag present with an air tight bow on top.
The party continues with music throbbing and lights flashing, waitresses serving, patrons dancing, but all we can hear, all we can feel, our totality of awareness is the growling of the diesel engine, the whine of the hydraulic pumps. Immobile in the dark all Peaches and I can do is breathe on each other, and await our fate.
Trashed. That is our fate. We are trash. Arms grab our bag, push on our bodies, lift us up. And let us fall. Down into a dumpster, landing flat, laying in a pile of garbage bags, we are plopped down into a dumpster, like trash. One of those wheeled carts with the flat lids one sees behind any business. Bags of trash from Kreamerz surround us. Our big garbage bag enclosure has plenty of air, we can still breathe, although the panic makes us breathe much faster, harder. Sweat pours out of every inch of my body, but clings to me, greases me inside my latex suit. We are on our side, but still tied so tight we cannot fuck. The frustration is overwhelming, I desperately need to start fucking her, start pounding her, but since Juliette has decided we are trash, we don't get to do what we want. We feel some more bags of garbage tossed on top of us, covering us, hiding us. We are anonymous. Lost. Subhuman, a mere sex object. We lay in the dark as the sounds of music and that fatal truck take turns filling our ears.
The dumpster starts to move. We are being wheeled over to the truck, to our doom. We jolt as the dumpster bangs against the truck, the jolt being the most exciting thing I have ever felt. The inescapable trap we are in becomes a roller coaster drop, that first big drop, my stomach flies up, butterflies, nerves, I feel impossibly excited. Chains clanging, hydraulics whining, we are being lifted. I want to scream, want to yell, but all I can do is moan and gurgle, all I can do is suck rubber cock. Peaches is vibrating she is so excited, screaming through her cock gag, I can feel her struggle against the bonds, ecstatic in her doom. We slide, fall, down into the truck, the gaping maw of the garbage truck, the hungry mouth eating all that the dumpster drops in to it. Eating us. As we slide, the feeling of losing grip, the tactile sensation of letting go, sliding, and the total frustration of being perfectly unable to save myself sends me totally over the edge, I am so ready to cum, I just want to cum, I want it now. Crush me. Finish me. I want it.
We lay motionless for a second, mixed in to a pile of garbage, then suddenly the truck revs up, the flat steel wall swings down, pushes us, pushes the pile of garbage bags and human trash into the bin, the holding bin of the truck. We are squeezed, crunched, pushed, buried deep into the garbage. Oh we are so dead. Juliette's words run through my brain, her warm eyes, her breathy voice, whispering. We are so dead. The erotic crush wedges us into the trash pile, stuck, we quit moving, too tight to move, and I cum. Finally, explosively, my cock releases and flows with cum, spilling out into my latex sheath, drowning my cock in its own jizz, my mind gives up and I surrender to the flow, letting it all go, not even trying anymore, just cumming. I cum and cum, forever it feels.
Then a jerk. The steel plate moves back and relaxes the pressure. We still have enough air in the bag, can still breathe, but that is all we can do. The noise from the truck is total. A sonic pounding to add to the physical beating. All of our panicked breathing is taking its toll, and the air is getting thick, musty, harder to breathe. Total ecstasy of climax, I still feel cum pushing out of my cock, like the climax doesn't end. I don't know what is happening, or why I can still breathe, so I just swim in the latex. Blind and deaf in my trap, I must wait.
Thankfully not for long. The truck revs up again, the noise grows, the pressure starts again. We get pressed smushed, crushed. The force of the truck crushing the garbage overwhelms us, crushing us. This time for sure, the end. I feel myself getting pressed even closer to Peach's body, becoming one with her. The pressure is too much, I know it's the end, they must have put more trash in, we are squeezed tight, I feel like I am cumming again, choking on my gag, as the last air is pressed out of me, I melt into her, melt into trash, glad that Juliette won. Ecstasy. Oblivion.
© Copyright 2012 Siobhann
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