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Cow's Gap Year, Part 3: Life At The Beach

A Cow's Gap Year series story
Heavy, f, M+, Real Life, Humiliation, Pain, Sadism, Scat, Water Sports, CNC
Beach Holiday

After a long bus ride, she ended up at a lesser-known beach resort. The visitors there were a typical mix of penniless backpackers like herself and normal tourists with some money. There was a small permanent population of older retired men, mostly European, attracted by cheap, readily available sex.

For the first couple of months she lived like all the backpackers - except for not having a backpack. She fucked a lot, drank a lot, smoked a lot of dope. She eked out the money she had taken from the hostel, keeping it topped up by fucking tourists and the old men. Most nights she found someone's bed to share, and when she didn't she slept under the stars. The same with food, most nights she found someone to buy her a meal, or ate with a group. When she didn't she ate what she found in garbage, licking up cold, congealed food from the dirt as she rubbed her excited clit.

Meeting Dieter

It was an idyllic life but she wanted more. There were stories about a certain Dieter, who lived alone in a big house with a couple of local girls as live-in maids. They rarely stayed long and told tales of cruelty and abuse that were worse than usual. There were rumours of girls who had disappeared. It all sounded very interesting.

She sat beside him in a bar, apparently a random casual encounter. With the old guys, that was all it took. They'd buy her a drink or two and make a proposition. In the unlikely event the girl wasn't on offer, he had nothing to lose. But this one was different. He was very courteous, a distinguished-looking German of 60 or so, very much the gentlemen. After the third drink he told her how much he'd enjoyed their conversation, and hoped they'd meet again. She was disappointed but intrigued.

"You are a very persistent young woman," he said at their third meeting. "I'm always happy to meet pretty young tourists like yourself, and you are certainly a very charming young lady. But if you have in mind some kind of business arrangement... that is a matter for the local people, I'm afraid."

She put her hand on his thigh, almost on his crotch, and replied, "I really like you. I don't want a business arrangement, as you say, but maybe we could get to know each other better?"

Soon she was at his elegantly furnished home, having drinks served by two pretty young Thai maids. They were naked, apart from stockings, suspenders and impossibly high-heeled strappy sandals.

"Pretty, aren't they? I've always had this thing for stockings and heels, I just can't help myself. Not that I'd want to."

They talked for a long time. He was keen to ask cow about herself as well to talk about himself, but she carefully kept steering the conversation back to sex, especially his interests. She was still intrigued by the stories she heard, but now she began to understand.

Thing moved quickly. Within a few days she moved in. He wanted to install her into his luxurious guest bedroom, but she wasn't having any of that. She made it a condition to be treated as a slave, with a small room in the basement, a thin mattress on the beaten earth floor. When he was at home she dressed like the Thai maids and waited on him, and when he wasn't, she sat and waited respectfully by the door. He never knew her name, and always called her just "my pet".

Dieter was amazed by his new sex pet, and very proud of her. The Thai girls he had used before would happily do any kind of sex, and didn't mind a bit of gentle bondage and mild spanking as long as they were suitably rewarded, but no more. Invariably he ended up pushing them too far and they stormed off. Sometimes they returned after a little while. Sometimes the lure of cash wasn't enough and they never returned. They told all their friends how badly they had been treated and what a terrible man he was, with much exaggeration - the basis of the stories that had so intrigued cow.

cow was constantly suggesting new ways she should be tormented, punished and humiliated. She would snuggle up to him after she had given him a blow job, her mouth still full of his cum, whispering ideas in his ear. He was often surprised, and sometimes shocked, not just by her audacity but by her appetite for pain and degradation. After the tightest bondage, the most painful beatings and torture, the most disgustingly degrading punishments, as soon as she had recovered a little she would ask him to do it harder and for longer next time, or suggest new ways to make it even worse.

An Evening at Home

Once or twice a week Dieter had friends round for the evening. Imagine them sitting round the dinner table, half a dozen along with Dieter and cow. A good Thai dinner is being served by the maids, amidst good conversation. cow plays her part, dessed in a sexily elegant red silk dress that Dieter bought for her in Bangkok as she joins in the general chat, sometimes amusing them with heavily redacted tales of her time in Bangkok. She is every bit the lady of the house, charming, entertaining, and sexy.

Up to a point, anyway. But the elegant red dress is pulled down, exposing her tiny breasts. A rivulet of semen runs down from one of them onto the dress, leaving a slimy trail. Her face is covered in it too, drying around her eyes and nose. When the maids serve a dish, everyone else eats with a fork in the usual Thai fashion. cow bends forward and eats with her mouth, like an animal. She has to, her arms are tightly fastened behind her, not just at the wrists but also by a tight, painful strap above her elbows, making them not just useless but completely immobile. Her hands are made useless by a single thick leather mitten, enclosing them both, hiding her fingers and thumbs.

She finishes her food, licking the plate spotlessly clean. At a gesture from Dieter she squirms awkwardly under the table, her arms useless even for balance, and crawls across to take his cock in her mouth. He has already emptied himself into her once this evening, his cum mixed with others' dribbling out of her and making a puddle under her cunt. He intends to do it again later, so for now she just keeps him hard, caressing him with her lips and tongue as the conversation continues above-table without pause. When he has had enough he cuffs her head and she returns to her seat, rejoining the civilised conversation as though she just popped out to the bathroom.

Whereas in fact she is the bathroom. When a guest needs to relieve himself after the beers he drank before dinner, he makes a gesture to Dieter, who nods at cow. She squirms off her chair again. Painfully she crawls over on her knees. She can't walk, because of the ballet boots she's wearing. She has barely learned to stand in them, to take a few tiny, hesitant steps before she stumbles. Dieter is training her, painfully, a stroke of the crop when she stumbles, a dozen when finally she collapses. But still it takes time.

She follows the guest out of the room. He unzips himself then pisses into her waiting mouth, Sometimes he pauses as she swallows. Other times he doesn't and his piss splashes into her face and runs down her chin. When finally he has finished she takes his cock into her mouth, extracting every last drop and bringing him to a gentle erection before he pulls out of her, zips up again, and strides back to the table, while cow shuffles painfully back on her knees. Someone throws some food on the floor, and she changes course to lap it up. Others do the same, cow shuffling around the table on her sore knees each time. When eventually she is back in her chair she smiles brightly and rejoins the conversation, apparently oblivious to the piss mingling with the cum on her face, the damp stains on her pretty dress.

Before dinner, she welcomed them as they arrived. On her belly at the door she kissed their feet, licking the street dirt from their shoes and boots as they greeted Dieter and the others. Some ignored her completely, others lingered, enjoying her humiliation as her tongue loosened up the dirt and mud. Some gestured for her to suck them, though none wanted to come just yet.

When everyone was there they sat around in armchairs, chatting and drinking. The Thai maids hovered in the background, topping up drinks and bringing snacks. They were available for sex, but nobody was interested - they all had ready access to Thai girls. cow was something special. She was stretched out on a table, belly down, her legs spread wide and bound at the ankles, her neck held down at the other end of the table by a tight leather strap, her arms bound behind her. Dieter gave a short, informal welcome, then declared cow open for use by first fucking her brutally hard, then paddling her exposed bottom until she squealed noisily, her flesh turning bright pink. It made a pretty contrast with her black suspenders and stockings, already laddered and stained with dried cum from previous times she'd worn them.

All of her holes were available, and over the following hour or so before dinner, all were used. Her bottom and thighs received several good beatings. One of the guests, the commander of the local army base, especially enjoyed having her suck him while someone else beat her hard, her squeals of pain adding to the physical pleasure of her wide-open mouth. It was also his pleasure to pull out of her mouth just before he came, finishing himself off with his hand as his cum sprayed into her eyes and over her face. Eventually it was time for dinner. Before moving the guests to the dining table, he beckoned to the maids. After a short squabble amongst themselves, one knelt in front of her face, kissing her and gently licking some of the partly dried cum from around her mouth, while ther other knelt between her legs and applied her tongue to her clit. Soon she was squirming noislily against her bonds. Just when she was ready to explode, Dieter used a thin cane to beat her poor bottom viciously. In her spasms of pain and ecstasy she nearly lifted the heavy table off the ground.

After dinner, some of them play cards as they drink, while Dieter and others just chat. cow stands facing Dieter, where he can feast his eyes upon her. Her legs are trembling with the effort of remaining upright in the ballet boots, her bottom and thighs tensing. It takes all his self restraint not to go to her, to slap and tease her bruised and bleeding flesh, to kiss her and lavish her body, and finally to push her over the table and fuck her. The others, with his encouragement, are less restrained. She is fucked several times, and spanked vigourously.

Finally, as the evening is wearing down, he can bear it no longer. She is staggering and stumbling now as her legs weaken, unable to support herself with her useless pinioned arms. He stands up, excuses himself to the company, slaps her face as he tells her how lazy and unworthy she is. Then he drags her off to an adjacent bedroom.

Once inside, he changes completely. He lays her down gently on the soft bed, calling her his beautiful pet, kissing her bruised flesh, lingering on her bottom and the inside of her thighs. She takes him in her mouth, bringing his exhausted cock slowly to a respectable hardness, teasing his sensitive places that she has learned so well. He enters her, fucking her gently, waiting for to react as he gradually increases the pace. She is going crazy with frustration, unable to reach her clit, squirming and squealing with unrequited excitement. Finally he comes, then quickly withdraws and moves his tongue to her clit. She explodes in pleasure, her screams certainly her throughout the house and outside as well, if there is anyone to hear.

He returns to his guests, leaving her to recover from the punishments and abuse of the evening. Later she will spend the night on a rug on the floor of his bedroom, still in severe bondage, unable to stand, her arms unusable behind her back.

Dieter's Friends

Among Dieter's friends was the head of the local army barracks. When she heard him talking over dinner about his 200 useless conscripts, unable to think of anything but the sex they could never get, she almost came on the spot. After a little persuasion Dieter agreed to lend her out for a couple of days, to be taken naked in the back of a truck to the barracks. There she was gang-banged first by the officers, then by the senior troops. Afterwards she was strapped to a bench, all her holes available to be used by the other soldiers. By the time all 200 of them had finished with her, the first ones had regained their strength and were ready for a second round. It was long after official lights-out before they left her, her whole body drenched in semen, her cunt stretched and sore, bleeding in places where clumsy fingers had torn her flesh.

When morning came, she used her few words of Thai to persuade them to tie her up in the toilet and piss on her. The men laughed and joked as they soaked her from head to toe, forcing her jaws open so they could fill her mouth, pissing into her sore, gaping cunt. They were hesitant at first but quickly became bolder and more brutal, insulting her and making her lap up the growing puddle that surrounded her. One of them took his belt off and started to thrash her with it, which encouraged the others to copy, hitting her with whatever they could find. They made her squirm on her belly to the filthy, stinking latrine and clean it up, removing the piles of dried shit with a broom and a bucket, paddling round in it in her bare feet. When they left her alone she sat down in it, rolled around in it, licked at it, rubbing herself to orgasm after orgasm at the sheer disgusting foulness of it all. They had to hose her down before they dared send her back to Dieter, and even then it was a couple of days before her skin smelled normal. It was much longer before she stopped rubbing herself sore at the memory.

Another of Dieter's friends was the chief of the local police. He used to be something very important in the security service in Bangkok. He was very effective at extracting confessions from the guilty and just as effective at extracting them from the innocent. But his excesses caught up with him. He was removed to this rural backwater where he could do less harm and in consequence, he was extremely bored. The only crimes in the area were due to tourists getting drunk and stoned. Even so he had created a security division far larger than necessary.

He was a vicious and creative sadist. He would visit Dieter on his own, sharing a drink or two, then take cow away to torment her. He knew many extremely painful techniques that left no obvious permanent marks. He would leave her a quivering, huddled wreck, exhausted from her screams and sobs and her pain. Then he would fuck her, finally pushing his cock into her whimpering mouth. When he had finished, he took one of the large cigars he like to smoke and burned her, always on the same spot just above where her pubic hair would be.

It took her a long time to recover each time but once she had, she rubbed herself sore at the memory, one finger on her clit while the other prodded the raw burn.

Another friend was an American doctor. His peculiar pleasure was strangling. He would tie a noose around her neck, tightening it until she passed out, emptying her bladder and her bowels. Only then, when she was completely insensible, did he fuck her. As she returned to consciousness she felt his cum oozing down her thighs and smelled her own loss of control. Still in a daze she licked it up, rubbing herself to a very pleasant climax as he relaxed.

Daily Life with Dieter

Daily life at Dieter's home mostly followed a pattern, though with plenty of variation. In the evening she accompanied him for his dinner. Sometimes she sat at the table, like a lady, as the Thai maids served. Other times she would kneel on the floor, at his side or between his legs under the table. In his presence she invariably wore impossible heels, black stockings and suspenders - as did the maids. After dinner, if he was alone, he would fuck her, then punish her with a cane, crop or whip for real and invented mistakes, or for nothing at all. Then maybe he would sit and watch a film, or maybe read, with her nestled between his legs, his soft cock in her mouth with its taste of her own juices and his cum. She liked the feeling, when he'd fucked her two or three times, of his softness, just gently teasing him to the merest hint of an erection.

Other times he would fasten her to the wall, a short chain tight around her neck making it impossible to sit or stand straight. He loved to watch her struggling in her heels, trying to take the pressure from her neck. In his excitement he would put vicious clips on her nipples and her cunt, fucking her with a huge, painful dildo as she wriggled and squealed. Sometimes he kept her in painful bondage all night long, admiring her and enjoying her whimpers of pain and discomfort when he awoke. On those nights she didn't sleep even for a moment.

Most night she spent in a small cage, barely big enough to contain her folded, kneeling body, close to the foot of his bed. He often awoke during the night and liked to watch her, wriggling in discomfort in the tiny space, crying out in her fitful sleep. She would wriggle her cunt up close to the mesh so he could fuck her, or press her lips to the cold, sharp metal, her mouth wide open.

Less often, she would sleep just curled up on a rug beside his bed, or occasionally in bed with him, snuggled up to his warm body, kissing and nibbling him whenever he stirred.

In the morning she was his toilet, hungrily drinking his strong, warm piss and taking shit straight from his body before licking him clean. It had taken him a little while to get used to the idea. But she was impossible to resist, as she delicately caressed his cock with her hands while pressing her soft lips to his anus, her tongue opening him up. She soaped him in the shower, then accompanied him to breakfast served by the maids. Just like dinner, sometimes she sat at the table, though she ate very little since her belly was already full. Other times she knelt on the floor, gratefully scavenging table scraps with her mouth.

He was usually busy in the morning. She stood in a corner of the room where he could see her, or he would give her pointless tasks so that he could watch her strutting around the house. He loved watching her walk, balancing carefully in her heels, her bruised bottom wiggling with each step. Sometimes he let her just curl up in a corner and sleep, pretending not to notice when she rubbed herself to a quiet orgasm thinking about the previous night.

He nearly always went out at lunchtime, returning during the afternoon or early evening. The maids provided her with lunch, giggling as she slurped up the piss and shit they had saved for her in the morning. One would piss into her mouth while the other licked her clit, and naturally she returned the favour. They too had taken a little while to get used to having a toilet slave, but by now they loved it as much as she did, smearing her and each other with shit that she licked off their bellies and little tits.

At other times he would tie her up before leaving, in an impossibly stressful position that had her whimpering from the agony of her tortured muscles. At the time it was little comfort that she had whispered the idea in his ear a few days earlier. Often she was gagged or her whole head covered in a heavy leather hood that blocked all vision and most sound. He would beat her, sometimes almost gently, sometimes savagely, before leaving for his lunch appointment. On those days he would return hours later and beat her again, ignoring her pleas for release, tightening her gag until she could barely breathe. When he finally did release her she pressed her mouth to his cock, sucking him hard, begging to be fucked and abused. She was then, just like now, completely incorrigible.


Dieter had to go to Bangkok for several days. cow would have been happy to stay at his house with the Thai maids, they would have had a wonderful time together. But he had a different idea. He handed her over to the police chief, who gave her to an interrogation team as a suspected terrorist. This was common practice - take someone completely innocent, and torture them to make them speak up. It's excellent practice for the interrogators, who don't know which are real and which aren't. Normally they did it with locals, girls or boys like Pita who won't be missed. Since they have nothing to confess, eventually they'll be broken and then to avoid complications, they can be put slowly and painfully to death. He explained that since cow was a foreigner, they had to leave her in good shape - no permanent injuries, and certainly not dead. Then he watched them go to work, with great satisfaction.

When she arrived they beat her, raped her, then locked into a tiny cage overnight to soften her up. They gave her one chance to confess.

"Who are your contacts in Thailand? Who are you working for? What operations are you planning?"

She had no answers to any of this, so they strung her up by her ankles, legs spread wide apart, her arms bound behind her, her holes and everything else completely vulnerable. They beat her relentlessly, using several implements - thin canes that cut into her flesh, thick sticks that bruised down to the bone, paddles, whips - until her whole body from her ankles to her neck was little more than a bloody pulp. They fucked her cunt with a stiff brush until the blood flowed freely. They pissed into her face and over her body. Then once again they left her to think about what she could tell them. When they returned, hours later, they beat her again before once again asking their questions. And once again she had no answers.

They put a bucket of dirty water under her and lowered her until her head was completely submerged, then beat her until her body started to spasm from the lack of air. When they pulled her out her gasps for breath were mixed with screams and sobs as the beating continued, before they plunged her back in again. Each time they left her in the water a little longer.

When there was still no confession, they removed the bucket of water, replacing it with a bucket filled from the toilet, a thick stinking mixture of shit and piss. For good measure they pissed into the bucket themselves, before once again lowering her head into it. Now when they lowered her, her mouth, nose, eyes and ears were filled with the foul mixture as she desperately tried to breathe, almost insensible to the renewed beating. They dragged her out and asked again, but still she had no answer.

They left her for a long time, hours, with her nose, eyes and ears submerged, able to breathe only by tugging herself out enough to expose her mouth for a few gasps before sinking back into the filth. When they finally returned she was exhausted and would have confessed to anything - if she had anything to confess to. But she had thought of something. This time when they asked for her contacts, she gave them the address of the hostel in Bangkok, and the owner's name, at least as far as she knew it.

"Good, we thought you'd remember. Now what about your other contacts?"

After they had dunked her a few times, and further beatings, she added the evangelist-run hostel where she had first stayed.

"And the operations you are planning?"

"What operations? Please, I don't know what you're talking about, please, no more, there must be a mistake, there are no operations..."

She screamed as they replaced the brush in her cunt with a much larger one, with very stiff bristles, dipped in the stinking bucket before they thrust it in and out of her. Then they dropped her back into the filth, and started the torture all over again.

When they'd finished they once again left her just barely able to breathe, her body a mass of pain, her cunt on fire. She had time to think so when, after several hours once more, they returned, she had an answer prepared for them, a completely fictional "operation" which involved planting bombs around the town.

They weren't convinced. They left her hogtied overnight (not that she knew night from day), her arms and legs cramped painfully behind her back, her belly on the cold concrete floor. They kicked her and emptied the bucket of filth over her head, before leaving her to think some more.

By the morning she was too exhausted to even try and invent a new story. They spread her legs over a sharp wooden beam, two huge wooden sticks deep inside her, her cunt lips nailed to the beam. Heavy weights dragged her ankles down. Her arms were still tied behind her. A leather hood filled with shit covered her head, she could see nothing and not hear very much. The slightest movement tore at the nails and ripped the bruised, bleeding flesh inside her cunt. They whipped her for a very long time, until her back was raw. They asked their questions again but she was in too much pain to even try to answer.

She spent the next 24 hours like that, her insides torn apart, her delicate vulva sore and bleeding from the sharp wooden edge. They returned to beat her and ask questions regularly, but she had nothing to say. They pushed pins under her fingernails, they burned her cunt lips and her tits, all to no avail.

Then suddenly the hood was torn off her head, the nails were pulled painfully out of her cunt lips, they lifted her off the awful beam. They told her there had been a mistake and she was free to go. She collapsed on the floor, her muscles too weak to walk. They raped her one last time, setting her bruised cunt aflame, and dragged her out into an anteroom where the police chief was waiting. Without even cleaning her up, she was bundled into a police van and taken back to Dieter's house.

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