Thread: Evelyn Carnate's Underground Lair (Below ground)

... ... This was no comic book hooker. This...this was a monster! Batdude did not pay for this! Batdude did not want this complimentary on top of what he did pay for! BATDUDE DO NO WANT. His body lurched forward, shoulders coming together and face falling long, eyes open, mouth wide, as she gripped and assaulted his bat sac! The headbutt to his face did the man no favors, breaking his nose in one solid blow, a degree of blood beginning to gush forth rapidly onto his chest, onto her face, and, in a few sure moments, it would be making a mess of her blanket. He squealed. It was not the most heroic thing to do, but with his nose shattered, with him laying on his back, with his balls in her fierce grip, Batdude squirmed and squealed like a stuck pig as she slapped him back and forth across the face, hands flailing confusedly in the air. No, no, no more playing, Batdude panted out, flailing weakly on his back. His hands grasped at air. His abdomen strained. Every time he tried to sit up he ended up rolling to a side and curling into himself from the pain in his groin, then soon rolling onto his back again, repeating the process weakly. No more! N-n-no more! You're a TERRIBLE whore!! The blow to his nose was fiery and throbbing, but the blow to his crotch before that even had been debilitating. Tears long welled in his eyes now coursed down the sides of Batdude's very confused face, mixing with the blood that covered his mouth, chin, and onto his bare neck and chest. He could feel Evelyn lifting his legs one at a time and tying them, followed by his hands, but he had not the strength to so much as resist. There was sobbing. He had strength enough to whimper, but even that was denied him when she fitted the gag into his mouth. Gags were inconvenient things, on both ends. For the one on the receiving end, he could not speak clearly, though such a thing would likely not make much difference at this point anyway. For the aggressor, it could only stifle their prey so much Batdude groaned hard into it as he felt her returning to his bat junk, lacing a string around it like some sort of pork roast. Then there was a finger at his ass, rubbing there. Which. No. His eyes were already wide, so it wasn't like they could go any wider instead they cringed, the man wincing within his restraints, sobbing something unintelligible about being saved from all this. Then the dildo. If the shrill groans weren't something before, they sure were now. He struggled against his restraints, but whenever he moved the hook pressing into his ballsac made the man's back arch viciously and his entire body switch back and forth between writhing, then remaining completely still, then writhing again, only to fall still a second time, too confused to understand what to do. His chest was beating rapidly. His body understood that much. To add injury to insult, which was already on top of another injury, the dildo penetrating him anally rubbed at his insides and naturally forced him to retain his arousal, even amidst all the terrible pain - and that, in turn, only urged the fishhook more, until it poked its way into the sensitive, leathery skin. There was nothing to do. There was nothing for Batdude to do. Laying atop his cape, blood all over his face, tears all over his cheeks, he laid there on his back, arms and legs forced to a raise, while this dominatrix had her way with him. There was nothing left to do. As the hot wax dripped onto his scratched and whipped chest with uneven pauses, that bared skin rocked up and down as the poor, confused man just laid there whimpering.