The women stopped what they were doing to watch me. It wasn't the first time I had been expected to take this dildo inside my cunt. It stretched me every time. I grasped the shaft and aligned its massive head to my hole and slowly sank over it, rising and falling several times to seat it properly. The entire time I gasped and sighed. The woman showed me my simple task which was to be completed while fucking myself on the dildo. If I didn't keep up, there would be more. The men were content to fuck me for the most part. If there was abuse, it tended to be from the women.
It was, of course, intended to be difficult for me to keep up with the pace they were working since I was not as skilled at it and I was fucking a dildo. In response, I wasn't surprised when the abuse began as a means of encouraging me to improve. It wouldn't, obviously, but only provide additional distraction. Weights were added to the nipple rings which bounced off the bells and pulled on the nipples. Then more weights were added so my nipples were distended further and my fucking motion bounced by tits and everything attached to the nipples.
I was relieved when I saw Master come out of Jose's office and shout over the noise of the warehouse for me. The women looked disappointed but I knew they would resume their playing when I was next available.
"Yes, Master," I said as I stood in Jose's open office door. After being stretched by the big dildo, my cunt felt quite empty. The weights still attached to my nipples pulled and bounced with each step.
"What were the women doing?" Master asked. It was nothing new to see me being used. It was expected and was written plainly on my body. He was merely curious. I told him which dildo they had me use. Both men laughed with understanding. Master said, "We'll let you cunt adjust to normal before fucking you, then." They laughed, again. I completely understood. I was sure my hole was still gaping from the massive thing.
"Cunt," Jose began, "your pregnancy has raised some questions. We've come to a decision." Did it surprise or distress me that any decision about my pregnancy wasn't made or consulted by me? No. I was their plaything. Their fuck-cunt, their fuck-toy, and mere holes for their cum. What distressed me was the pregnancy. I didn't want anything to interfere with my ability to be of use to the gang.
"Evan made a comment that intrigued us," Master continued. "We did a little unscientific survey of the men and added our own reactions to it. There seems to be agreement, so we are going to have you go to term."
"Master," I blurted out, "I ... I ... a baby ... Master ... that ... a baby will interfere with my duties. How can I be an effective fuck-toy if I am caring for a baby?"
Jose was chuckling and shaking his head, "No, cunt. It will be put up for adoption."
I looked at them confused. Master took over and began by pulling on the attachments suspended from my nipples. I winced. "It seems, cunt," he smiled as he watched my tits bounce after release and the look on my face as the weights bounced, too. "It seems fucking a pregnant woman is quite arousing so we'll test that thought. Besides, our attorney says some couples want to avoid the wait of adoption agencies and are willing to pay big money." Oh, I thought, that's different.
* * * *
Several months went by and nothing was different except for my belly which was beginning to show a bump. That wasn't correct, there were things different. I was still being used every day by all the shifts who wandered through the warehouse. The thing different was the subtle way they seemed to desire using my showing body. There was a definite shift in fucking my cunt over my ass and comments like, 'covering the baby in cum' became common. And the women renewed their perverted interest in penetrating my cervix but with much more care.
I saw a doctor regularly, too. The clinic was used by the gang for injuries and the prostitutes for regular checkups, etc. The examinations I received from him and his nurses were much different than any I received in my prior life. Lying on the examination table with my feet in the stirrups, I wasn't allowed a covering gown and my cunt and asshole were routinely examined at length by several of them. The examinations used their fingers and speculum. One of the nurses seemed particularly interested in my reaction to g-spot stimulation. Eventually, it was common to be fist fucked by a nurse and actually fucked by the doctor. Throughout it all, I was verbally degraded.
By the seventh month, I was walking and moving in general with more effort. Clothes were not a problem except for going to the doctor and then it was an old-fashioned house dress that hung on my body. Underneath I wouldn't be allowed to wear underwear of any kind and my increasing tit size increased their free motion.
In the eighth month, I was waddling around the warehouse and would have thought I was very unsexy except that I was still getting fucked as much as ever, maybe more. It was at this point that Master put the word out that he wanted me fucked as much as possible in 24 hours. It might be, his announcement stated, the last opportunity for me to enjoy a gangbang and it should be a good one.
I was already finding it hard to be fucked in very many positions other than on my hands and knees so when I saw several men bring into the warehouse a new contraption, I knew just how serious Master was.
It was a strange-looking bench of sorts. There was a very well-padded kneeler and padding for the thighs. Then, the 'bench' part became weird and it wasn't until I knelt on it and rested my upper body that I realized the ingeniousness of it. My big belly fit into the gap of one part, padded support on my lower ribs, my enlarging tits went into another gap, and my shoulders and upper chest rested in another. They had come up with a comfortable fucking bench for my increasing size so I wouldn't be holding myself up on hands and knees.
Master pointed me to it, then stepped into the gap between my knees. He drove his cock into my cunt and I groaned. It was perfect. I was comfortable and all the necessary parts of me were exposed and free of pressure. Within a minute there was a cock presented to my mouth which I opened eagerly. Cock after cock fucked me and they continued to mostly prefer my cunt over my ass.
After the men present in the warehouse used me, the women came with dildos and anal plugs and heavier weights and clips for my nipples and cunt lip rings. The women withdrew and the men were back for another round of fucking.
After two rounds of being fucked by 20 men or so, my cunt was overflowing with cum. Then, the women did something that surprised even me. I felt something being inserted into my cunt, something happening inside, then withdrawn. A moment later a woman was in front of me with a large kitchen baster with cum inside. She inserted it into my mouth and pressed the bulb to push the cum into my mouth. This was done a dozen or so times with varying amounts of cum squeezed into my mouth.
That was just the beginning. My fucking continued on the bench as more men and women arrived. Late at night, I fell asleep with my head hanging, my long hair hiding my head from sight. It didn't stop the fucking, though. Even asleep I was entered when new guys arrived or returned. I was truly a cum-dump at that point. Even awake, cocks pressed into me but there was little orgasmic reaction from me. Cum streamed out of my cunt as a cock was pressed in or leaked out in between if there weren't women around to use the baster to take it from my cunt to my mouth. In the end, I had no idea how much cum had been pumped into me, taken back out, and pressed into my mouth to be swallowed.
I was within weeks of giving birth and I was having trouble walking. It wasn't because of my belly at that time, though; my cunt and ass were raw and swollen from the fucking. Of the uncountable fuckings I have during a typical week, it seemed I had that in that one night.
* * * *
When it was finally time, two of the women took me to the hospital. Master figured it would involve far too much emotional response for his comfort. So, three women arrived at the hospital all wearing gang tattoos. Once I was undressed and into a gown waiting for the exact moment, the tattoos on my body were a source of interest, muttered comments, and outright rejection except for their professional responsibilities. Yes, my body spelled out what I was: CUM SLUT, FUCK TOY, and DIABLO CUM DUMP. The reactions from the staff didn't concern me ... too much. I was there to complete a job.
When the birth happened, the child was removed, cleaned, swaddled, and ... gone. I saw the lump in the arms of the nurse but that was all. I didn't even know if it was a boy or girl much less what it looked it. I had essentially provided a product for profit. That night, in recovery, I wondered if that should make me feel bad, feel revolted, or feel sad. It didn't. I was a fuck-toy, not a mother.
