There were two studded leather bracelets on the rack, and a bottle of black fingernail polish. There was also a tube of bright-red lipstick molded into the shape of a cock. There were jet-black garters and dark hose and six-inch black spike heels. It was a slut's costume, a whore's costume, but not even that was the worst of what Roger had set out for her. The worst was a long black wig.
"Here we are," Peter said from the door, and Elaine turned her head slowly to look at him. He was wheeling something into the room. "I want to thank all of you guys who helped me fill up the barrel, and everybody who hasn't had a shot at Big Tits needs to get in line. We're about to play the most popular Halloween game there is."
"It's a kid's game," Steve said with a mischievous smile. "But Peter kind of updated it."
"Get her dressed," Peter said, nodding toward his aunt. He guided the barrel into the center of the room and then stepped back away from it. "The original game was called bobbing for apples. You fill a barrel with water, toss in a bunch of stupid apples, and everybody tries to bite one out. Big deal. In our version we fill the barrel with piss. See these little cuffs at the side? You stick your cocks through these rubber sheaths and they stick up in the piss in the barrel. That way none of the piss can get back out. But our way, only one person does the bobbing, and that's the trampy bitch with the great big tits."
"Bobbing for cocks!" one of the boys said in wonder. He ran to the barrel. "I get first dibs!"
"Six guys can stick their cocks in at once," Peter explained, walking toward his helpless, beautiful aunt. "Now how about you get into your costume, bitch? It's time for the real fun to get started."
Elaine dropped her head but she didn't cry anymore. There was no point in crying. The boys had barely started on her and she was already fucked almost to death. Halloween night had barely begun.
CHAPTER SIX
Elaine was pulled on shaky legs toward the barrel. She couldn't believe how whorish she looked in the costume the boys had forced on her. She wished she could die, wished for anything that would deliver her from the madness of pain and disgrace to which the boys had delivered her.
Her tits had always stood out high and full on her chest, but never before had they looked like this. With the dress on, her mammoth tits were pushed all the way up almost to her collar-bones, pushed together until the cleavage between them seemed almost bottomless.
Elaine tried to shake her head, to fan the long black hair of the wig over her tits, but the boys just pushed the shining raven hair back over her shoulders. She tried to squeeze her arms together in front of her to hide the shameful exhibition of her bountiful tits, but that only made them stand up even higher and fuller than before. She wished she could bring her hands up over them, but the chains around her wrists kept her from lifting them high.
She didn't understand why the boys had chained her again after they had squeezed her voluptuous body into the small black dress. She was exhausted, broken both mentally and physically by the torture and rape and bondage. Still the boys had bound her, snapping huge iron cuffs on her wrists and ankles, then connecting all four cuffs to a length of heavy, steel chain.
Worst of all had been the terrible ball and chain the boys had invented. A second cuff circled Elaine's delicate left ankle, and another chain dragged behind her. Hooked at the end of the chain was an enormous pumpkin. The pumpkin weighed at least fifty pounds. The boys had drawn a face on it, but they hadn't carved it because they wanted its full weight dragging on their exhausted victim when she tried to move.
Elaine shuffled forward toward the barrel of piss, pushed and pulled and prodded by the mob of boys around her. Six boys had already stuck their cocks through the rubber sleeves in the sides of the barrel. As Elaine got closer to it, she could see that even the longest cock reached only to three or four inches below the surface of the placid yellow pool. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Something had short-circuited inside her. All she could feel was ashamed and exhausted.
And aroused.
Her cunt was burning like an open wound sprinkled with salt. Her clit was rippling because of the friction of her lush thighs rubbing together as she walked, making tingles of pleasure course up through her cunt and stomach and tits. It took every ounce of willpower just to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
"Here it is," Peter said with a deep bow as the boys finally pushed Elaine against the piss-filled barrel. "Let's see how good you are at games."
"Yeah!" Roger snarled, grabbing his voluptuous aunt by the back of her head. "Start sucking, you titsy old whore!"
He plunged her face into the stinking yellow piss with one powerful thrust of his arm, held her face beneath the surface until bubbles trailed up all around her head.
Elaine clamped her mouth tightly shut when a wave of burning piss flooded her mouth and throat. She gagged and choked. For a dazed instant she was sure Roger was going to kill her, drown her in a barrel full of waste. Then he pulled her out, and the mob of boys cheered at her pitiful gasping and coughing.
"Get to sucking!" Roger sneered, letting loose of her piss-drenched head. "Get your slutty mouth down there and start making some guys cum!"
Elaine cried, then she lowered her face into the pool of piss. She realized with a deadening feeling of despair that it would be almost impossible to suck the boys off under the surface. She would have to take breaks every couple of minutes, and every time she opened her mouth, her throat would be flooded with piss.
Her face brushed against a thrusting cockhead, and Elaine wiggled to one side until her lips were right over the upraised prick. She tried to slowly slide her lips over the cock, but even so, a mouthful of piss sprayed past the seal. She swallowed the filthy juice without gagging, then she was further humiliated by the way her pussy wriggled as the burning piss poured down to her stomach. She heard the boys hooting and cheering as she plunged down on the cock in her mouth. Then her ears were under piss and she couldn't hear anything at all.
The boy's cock tasted like piss, and Elaine's mouth was filled with the tangy flavor. Soon the taste of piss was almost gone, replaced by the salty flavor of fuck lube and the meaty, male flavor of hardened cock. Her cunt spasmed with excitement at the wonderful taste.
The image of what she must look like burned like a flaming brand into Elaine's mind. The boys had already stretched her on a rack and fucked every hole she had. Now she was draped in chains, dressed in a revealing, shameful costume, and crouched over a barrel of steaming golden piss.
She was a slave and a fucktoy now, and the boys could fuck and humiliate and hurt her in any way they wanted. She was sucking cock in a pond of piss, dressed in a whore's costume and playing the part to perfection. She couldn't imagine a worse defilement.
The shame didn't even slow the rise of excitement within her. Her cheeks hollowed as she suctioned in the cock between her lips. Her tongue whipped across the blooming head and down the sides of the powerful, pulsing cockshaft. Her lips formed an airtight seal around the root of the big prick, and her nose and chin were smashed against the rubber sleeve that kept piss from draining from the barrel. Her legs rubbed together, spreading pussy juice over her soft inner thighs while the chains rattled and clinked. Her cunt was squeezing so tight that she thought she would pass out from excitement. Her clit was like a tiny, burning coal, spreading heat through her busty, buxom frame.
Her lungs ached for air, but she was unwilling to pull her mouth away from the delicious cock. It tasted so wonderful, so meaty and salty and strong. And the cooling piss felt nice against her face, cool and wet and comforting. Her head was spinning from lack of oxygen, but it didn't seem to matter. The cock in her mouth and the burning in her cunt were a hundred times more important than breathing.