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162 | Erwer, Nenim 5, 0534 | I heard footsteps behind me, and from the cadence of his steps I could tell it was Aaden. I was far too wrapped up in the work on my terminal to turn around, casually dismissing his presence as friendly and familiar.
That is, until he came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulder, gently rubbing away the entire day's frustrations. "Oh, that feels so good, Aaden, but you're distracting me. I'll give you just half an hour to cut that out."
He chuckled gently and leaned over, kissing me on the back of the neck. "Love you," he said gently. "How've the kids been?"
I reached up over my head and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Oh they're fine. Ember's got them outside right now. Love you too," I said gently, kissing the furry underside of his muzzle. My hand trailed down along his body to his legs, not really seeking his crotch, just taking full measure of his wonderfully hard body. "You're all hot."
"Been working out."
I looked up at the clock and said, "Ohmifa, is it really fourteen already?"
"Mm-hmm," he said.
"Damn," I cursed. "I've been working for nine hours already and I feel like I've gotten nothing done."
"What are you working on, anyway? I've never seen you get so intense."
"You haven't lived with me long enough. I've been doing some genecoding work, thinking about a few things."
"Such as?" he said with a little sing-song.
"Oh, this'n'that. Structural variations for Centaurs. Skin tone controls for Humans, Centaurs."
"A new species?" he asked.
I smiled. "Yeah, that too. Been thinking about it. Now that the Pendorian races are as established as they are, I wonder if going with more 'classical' anthropomorphs wouldn't be inappropriate."
"So what kind are you working on?"
"Mustelids."
"Very interesting. I still say you're working too hard. Getting intense is one thing, but I think you're overdoing it." He smiled. "Besides, I need a little help."
"With what?" I asked.
"I want you to spot me."
"I thought that's what AI's were for."
He shrugged. "I'd rather have you do it." I laughed. "Besides, it gives me a chance to see you. Haven't been doing much of that, recently, between your project and the kids."
I nodded. "Okay, it's a deal." As if he really needed someone to spot for him. Still, safety first.
We wandered out of the office and back towards the residencies, where Aaden had set up a separate bedroom. P'nyssa and he and I now had three whole residences to ourselves, with most of the walls knocked out again. The center room was still the nursery and playroom, with the farthest room being the "spare" bedroom. We had decided not to call it "Aaden's room" because I don't ever want to imply that Aaden is separate from P'nyssa and I. In fact, P'nyssa spent as much time there as Aaden. The funny times were when two of us spent the night in the spare room.
But we had converted living room of the third residence for a variety of purposes. My old drafting table and workbench occupied one corner, the other kept Aaden's weights. There was also a low table covered with a green cloth. Under the cloth Aaden kept his seedling and sprouting jars-- the cloth was both to keep in the humidity and to shield outside eyes from the UV lights.
Aaden threw a hundred fifty kilos or so of weight onto the lower bar, I didn't bother to really look at how much. I had long ago ceased to be impressed or confused by how much or how little he used in his sessions. All I know is that he keeps his body in magnificent shape, and although it wouldn't really make much of a difference to me either way, I do love the way he looks.
He lay down and said "Ready?"
"How warmed up are you?" I asked.
"I've been warming up for about twenty minutes, Ken. I just needed you for this part."
"Oh, okay. I'm ready then." I planted my feet and waited, handing him the bar slowly. He pressed it to his chest then extended vertically, breathing hard with every stroke. He began to do repetitions, lots of them.
I watched as he exercised, enjoying the sight of his muscles expanding and contracting, his chest rising and falling in pattern with the repetitions. I started to notice that he was pushing himself hard, because sweat had broken out on his muzzle and his fur was matting down. Then I noticed something else-- With every exhalation I felt his breath blowing up my shorts and over my balls. It tickled.
I leaned up against the higher bar-rest, the one intended for Uncia and Tindals (who have longer arms or tentacles, respectively), and said "Are you teasing me?"
"What do you mean?" he grunted on a downward stroke.
"You're breathing up my leg," I said, smiling.
He glanced up, taking a good look into my shorts and said "You seem to be enjoying it." He landed the bar onto the lower rest and lunged for my shorts, his muzzle licking against the head of my cock briefly.
"Ack!" I yipped, stepping back. "Rabid Mephit!"
"Hey! Bring that back here," he said with mock-indignity.
I stepped back into range. "Lower," he said.
"Would it help if I took my shorts off?"
"It would," he said, smiling. He has a handsome smile.
I complied, taking off my shorts and stepping out of them. Now the only thing I wore was my T-shirt, a silly shirt I acquired during a brief stint teaching physics at Rocchodain University. It was a beautiful airbrush of the Ring, over which were the words "Pendorians don't understand the gravity of the situation," and the equation for tension in a string caused by centripetal acceleration.
I bent my knees slowly, lowering my not-quite-erect penis to his muzzle. He lunged again, and I withdrew. "Uh-uh," I teased.
"Give," he said. "Please?"
I smiled and bent my knees again, feeding him the length of my cock. He closed his muzzle around it, forming his thin lips into a seal around it, his tongue pressing against the top of my cock. I held onto the weight bar, giving me balance. He stroked my cock easily, sending wonderful shocks up into my brain. I closed my eyes and sighed. "Gods, Aaden," I whispered, "I love you."
I think he said "I love you too," but it wasn't clear as he said it around my cock. I also needed to lean over because my erection at full length doesn't like to bend downward. I wanted to lean over farther, to get at his cock as well, but I didn't have the reach to undo the string holding his gi bottoms, and even if I were to reach it I wouldn't have anyplace to put my hands to hold myself up.
So I was stuck, bent over and barely balanced, able to do nothing but close my eyes and enjoy the soft friction of his mouth.
He laid his head back against the bench, letting go of my cock. It whipped up and slapped against my belly. "I'm not that strong," he said, panting. "I can't hold my head up like that forever."
I laughed and said "So?"
"So why don't you mount me instead?"
I laughed, walking around to the other side of the weights bench, sitting down between his legs. I undid the string and pulled at his pants from the knees as he raised his hips to help. I threw them aside, grabbed his legs at the knees and pushed them up. He took over, planting them firmly against the weight bar, exposing his asshole. I smiled and bent over, licking his balls softly, trailing my way down to his hole, getting him slick and ready for me.
I leaned forward and aimed my cock, pushing against him gently, sliding into him. His asshole closed around my cock, pulling me in. I leaned over further, pressing my chest against the backs of his legs, feeling the fur on them against me. He reached up and put his hands on my cheeks, staring at me. His eyes were wide and he was panting hard. "I love you," he said in a loud whisper.
"I love you too," I said, bucking against him, sliding into him. We'd made love hundreds, maybe thousands of times, and it was always just as special. Feeling his hard buttocks striking against my hips with every stroke, his body jerk with every thrust. He let go of me and held onto the bars, keeping himself in place as I approached climax, wanting to get ever deeper into him.
He was staring at me, entranced, and I returned the stare, looking into his eyes. I wasn't sitting on the bench anymore; I had raised myself off and was driving myself into him, using my legs to go ever deeper. My orgasm was inevitable, and I knew it, so I suddenly stopped moving.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," I gasped. "I'm..." Slowly I stroked into him.
"Right..." Slower, pulling out.
"There... YEAH!" I screamed as I slammed into him one more time, coming, shooting into him. I bucked against him hard, once, twice, a third time, draining myself of strength.
I collapsed against him, lying across his broad chest. A paw, unsteady and unsure, fell across my back. "You're not tired, are you?" I asked.
"Well, getting ravished is certainly a good way to end a couple of dozen reps."
"Oh." I'd almost forgotten that he'd been exercising even before this. I think orgasms give me amnesia. "You are okay?" I said.
"Fine," he said.
We had lain there for a few minutes, me on top of him, when a voice interrupted our cuddling. "Daddy, here you are."
I raised my head unsteadily and looked over at the door. "Hiya, kiddo," I said, crooking a finger in her general direction. She came running over with all the typically overabundant energy of a five-year-old. "How's my little 'Lizbeth?" I said, leaning over to kiss Aaden's daughter gently on the forehead. "Aaden's daughter" biologically; she was growing up in my household, and she was my daughter as well.
"Fine. Daddy Aaden, you promised to help me with my drawing."
Aaden picked his head up, looked down out our precocious little child and said "In a second, sweetheart. Daddy still has to clean up from exercise."
"'Kay," she said. As she skipped out I heard Alexi's voice from the other room say "Grownups. Always hugging." I looked down at Aaden and smiled. He laughed.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get cleaned up. Besides, aren't you supposed to cook tonight?"
"Is it my turn?" I asked with a smile.
He nodded as I slid off of him and stood up woozily. "Oh, hell," I said. "What should I cook? What are you in the mood for?"
"Lasagna."
"Lasagna?" I asked. "Okay, lasagna it is. I thought you were on a diet."
"Who says?" he said. I laughed. I bent over to grab my shorts and he shot out a hand to stroke along the cleft of my butt. I sighed. "You're looking for trouble. Come on, let's go and clean up."
He laughed and said "Yeah."
I stood back up straight and helped him to his feet, hugging him close. "I love you." We headed down for the bath.
"Love you too." | 4 |
305 | Lori's Letter -- A brother/sister letter | I had been having fantasies about my brother Mike for months before I did anything about it. I hadn't any real experience with sex before and was really curious about it. I guess you could say I was horny, but I wasn't even sure what that meant, to be honest.
The few guys I was dating I didn't trust enough to feel comfortable with, so we never got past a little petting. The urge to go further was there, certainly, but not the faith.
So I'd come home from my dates and go to bed. Mike's bedroom was next to mine. In fact, our beds were on opposite sides of the same wall. Sometimes I could hear him masturbating. When he really got going, his bed would squeak and bump my wall.
Boy was it frustrating coming home from a date and then listening to Mike having fun. I think that's when I started thinking about going to his room and `helping' him. It took a few months before I got up the nerve - and had the opportunity - to try anything.
Our parents had gone away for the weekend. Late Friday night, Mike said goodnight and headed up to bed. I stayed downstairs, all nervous and scared. A few minutes later, I snuck quietly up the stairs and listened at Mike's door. Sure enough, I could hear the bed squeak. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Can I come in?" I called out softly.
"Um...ah.." Mike stammered. Guess he was trying to buy a little time to get himself arranged. "Ah....sure," he said finally.
I opened the door and walked in. He lay in bed with the covers up to his bare chest. Hopefully, I'd soon find out if he was bare below the waist as well. The curtains were open and pale light filled the room.
"Something wrong?" Mike asked, a look of guilt on his face. I think he was afraid he had gotten `caught' playing with himself.
"No, not really," I said as I walked slowly across the room. My heart was pounding and I felt like I could barely talk. I sat on the edge of his bed, about at his waist level.
"It's just that...I can hear you playing with yourself through the walls," I said finally. "And..um..I was wondering if you'd let me watch you."
"What?" Mike said as he blushed. "You want to watch me?"
"If you don't mind," I said hurriedly. "It's..well..I've never really seen a guy naked before and I keep hearing you masturbate. I'd really like to watch."
Mike was silent. I don't think he quite believed me.
"Are you serious?" he asked finally.
"Yes," I said with a nod of my head. "I'd love to see you play with yourself."
Still, he hesitated. But I noticed that the sheet was sticking up a bit. I was reassured - he got excited just at the idea.
"You can say no if you don't want to," I assured him. "But if you do, I think it'll be fun. And I'll never, ever tell anyone." I was trying to be fair, to give the chance to say no if he wanted, but then I cheated a little. I placed my hand on his arm, resting it lightly, almost caressing him.
"Um...ok," he said finally. By then, the sheet was sticking almost straight up in the air. He had tried hiding it by drawing his knees up but it was still obvious.
"Really?" I asked eagerly.
"Sure," he said slowly. "You can watch."
"Oh, thank you, Mike!" He didn't make any moves, so I asked if I could pull the covers down. Blushing furiously, he nodded.
I stood up and slowly slid the sheet down his body. Down his naked body, I soon discovered. Once the sheet was down past his penis, I threw it off the bed entirely.
Finally, I was looking at a man's naked body! He was hard and I was kinda surprised at the color. Now, years later, I can say that he was probably average in size, but back then he looked pretty big. My first thought was how in the world something like that would ever fight inside my little pussy.
"God, it looks good," I said softly. "You look good." Mike didn't answer. Instead, he just lay there, breathing hard. "Go ahead and touch yourself."
He didn't move. Then I realized he was too embarrassed to play with himself in front of his sister.
"It's ok, Mike," I reassured him. "Everyone masturbates. Wanna know something?" He nodded. "Alot of times, when I hear you through the wall masturbating, I start masturbating too. Almost as if we were playing with each other. So it's ok."
Still, he hesitated, as if this was some kind of trap. Finally, he spoke.
"You touch it."
"You sure you want me to?" I asked, praying he'd say yes. I'd wanted to touch him from the start, but didn't want to push him.
"Yes," he said in a strained voice. "Please touch it."
"Okay!" I said with a grin.
I had never touched a man like that before and my heart was hammering as I reached out. Pretty nervous about actually touching his penis, I placed my hand on his thigh first. Mike jumped a bit at the contact. I stroked his leg, moving more towards the inner thigh while watching his reaction.
Mike's head was tilted back and his eyes were tightly shut. He was even biting his lower lip, so I guessed it was feeling pretty good. His legs spread slightly, kinda rolling outward so there was more inner thigh exposed. I took that as my cue and continued stroking, moving upward towards his groin. When my hand brushed his testicles, he jumped and moaned.
"That feel good?" I asked.
"Oh God yes!"
"Good," I said with a grin. It was so neat to get Mike so excited. A strange sense of power seemed to come over me as I got my brother more and more turned on. Again and again, I let my hand `accidentally' brush his testicles. Each time I was rewarded with a twitch and a groan. Then I trailed my fingers up the side of his pelvis, softly touching his pubic hair.
"Oh God, oh God," Mike was murmuring over and over again. Finally, he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his moans.
I played with his stomach a bit, lightly tracing circles around his navel, before working my way back down. I was drawn to his testicles again, since he seemed to like it so much when I brushed up against them. I used my finger tips to kind cup them and slowly stroked over the surface of his sack.
His penis looked rock hard, with veins throbbing. I noticed a drop of liquid appear at the tip.
It was time, I decided.
Time to touch his penis.
I ran one finger up his erect penis, so softly that I was barely touching him. Up to the tip. Every muscle in his body seemed to be tense and his penis was jerking a bit as I touched the head. I smeared the liquid all over the head, making it slick.
"Oh. Oh. Oh." Mike whispered over and over again. He seemed lost, unaware of me or what was going on. Just lost in the excitement and pleasure.
By then I was biting my own lip in excitement. I really didn't expect to get that excited playing with a Mike, but I could feel the dampness in my panties.
Finally, I gripped his penis in my hand and stroked slowly. It didn't take much. I'm not even sure if I really started stroking him before he started coming.
"Agghhghhh!" he screamed as his cum exploded out of his penis. I kept stroking, moving my hand faster and faster as I watched in amazement. Gush after gush of semen flew from him as his body jerked and twitched and clenched.
It seemed that his semen was everywhere - some hit his pillow, some his chest, and the last few spurts dribbled down his penis over my hand.
God, it was amazing! I kept stroking and watching. I loved the way his cum made his penis so slippery!
"Stop," he cried, placing his hand on mine. "It's too sensitive right now," he gasped out. His eyes were still clenched shut and his entire body seemed flushed.
Mike seemed like he needed time to calm down, so, with my dry hand, I stroked his leg to try to comfort him. To let him know it was alright. It seemed to be forever before his breathing slowed.
"Did you like it?" I asked naively.
Mike opened his eyes at last and looked at me.
"It was incredible, Susan. Thank you." He seemed to get a bit embarrassed with me seeing him like that. I could tell he was looking around for the sheet to cover up.
"You really liked it? It felt good?" I asked again.
"Oh God yes," he said. "I've never had an orgasm like that before."
"Good," I said with a blush. "Then maybe you'd like to do it to me?" | 3 |
1,384 | WONDER WOMAN:WEBS OF EVIL | It has been a couple days since the capture of the invisible maniac, and things slowed down a bit at IADC headquarters. In the cafeteria Agent Diana Prince and Beverly, the IADC receptionist, were enjoying a quiet lunch together.
"Hey, Diana, here comes Harold Farnum. Why don't you try that joke I told you about this morning?" suggested Beverly.
"I don't think-"
"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!" giggled Beverly.
"Oh, all right. Hello, Harold, would you like to join us?" asked Diana sweetly as she batted her eyelashes.
"Sure, thanks! How are you, Diana?" asked Harold as he sat down.
"Fine, just fine. Would you like to have an argument?" asked Diana as she giggled.
"Um, no, not really." replied Harold.
"Yes, you do." said Diana.
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"But you're arguing with me right now, aren't you?" giggled Diana.
"No, we are NOT having an argument. All you're really doing is contradicting me." said Harold.
"No, I'm not." replied Diana.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not. We're having an argument, whether you like it or not." said Diana.
"But this isn't an argument!" replied Harold.
"Yes, it is."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is." smiled Diana.
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"AAAARGH!" replied Harold in a fit of frustration.
"Okay, I think that's enough, Diana." laughed Beverly.
"Sorry, Harold, it was just a little joke. One that you entertained us with very professionally." complimented Diana.
"Thanks....I think." said a perplexed Harold as he started eating his lunch.
* * *
The rest of the day was uneventful and somewhat boring, and Diana returned home from a long day's work at IADC headquarters. Early that evening while working on her home computer a strange hologram appeared near her.
"Diana..." said a voice.
"Who's there?" asked Diana as she looked around the room.
"Diana..." said the voice again, sounding more familiar.
"Andros? Is that you?" said Diana.
"Yes, focus on me....this astral projection is more difficult than I anticipated...." said Andros. Concentrating on Andros' image, a full 3-D hologram appeared in front of Diana Prince.
"Hello, Diana, I wish I could be the bearer of better news but Earth is in great peril. An alien villain who goes under the name 'Silkweave' is headed for Earth, seeking to steal the energy necessary to conquer my world. We are pacifists, not warriors; we are too weak and passive to stop it." said Andros.
"What does this 'Silkweave' look like?" asked Diana.
"It can transform into humanoid form, and appears like a medium sized man devoid of any hair on its body. In its natural state it appears like a part Earth spider, part Earthman creature. It possesses advanced technological weapons and can shoot strong webs to immobilize its victims. Do you have a computer?"
"Yes." answered Diana.
"Good. I will telepathically transmit the information to your computer device now." said Andros.
The lights in Diana's room started to dim briefly.
"It has started. Silkweave is on Earth and is already stealing some of Earth's energy as we speak!" exclaimed Andros. "The transmission is complete. Farewell, Diana, and may your quest be successful."
"Thank you, Andros....Thank you." replied Diana as the hologram faded.
* * *
Shortly thereafter the power was restored and Diana heard a knock on the door. Answering it, Diana met a young woman with blonde/light brown hair and glasses, with a petite but attractive figure and demeanor.
"Miss Prince?" asked the woman.
"Yes." responded Diana.
"Hi, I'm Rebecca Tisher, but you can call me Becky. I called you yesterday to about the interview for the Washington Gazette concerning the IADC."
"Oh yes, please come in. I'm sorry, but things have been pretty busy around here and at IADC." said Diana as she picked up some loose papers.
"Well, I'm here not only for the interview, but because a mutual friend, named Andros, referred me to you as well."
Diana's eyes lit up and paused for a second of surprise. "You know Andros."
"Yes, I met him several weeks ago when he made another visit to Earth. He's also told me about the alien Silkweave. Here's the info he sent me." replied Becky.
"We need to talk." said Diana.
* * *
After a couple of hours of comparing Andros' notes and their own estimations, Diana and Becky managed to sort out their conclusions.
"So, this alien 'Silkweave' is draining electric power to enhance its own abilities, and can shape-shift if necessary." said Diana.
"Yes, that's what it says here. Then again, maybe it likes to kidnap and tie up pretty young girls in its webs!" joked Becky.
Diana laughed. "I'm going to enjoy working with you. You said that you knew about Silkweave's arrival?"
"Yes. I received it through the police radio on the way here. A nightwatchman was found tied up and told police about some bald guy eating electricity. The nightwatchman was kind of intoxicated, so I don't think they'll believe him." replied Becky. "Andros did manage to tell me where Silkweave's landing site was, though."
"Great. I have a day off tomorrow. We'll check it out then." said Diana.
"You will do no such thing, Earthlings!" said an alien voice as it crashed through the windows. It was a man dressed in normal clothes, but had no facial or body hair present; it was Silkweave!
"Andros is a fool! You cannot beat me!" yelled Silkweave as it shot a stream of white, sticky, silk-like strands from a gun that wrapped around Diana's feet, tripping her to the floor. Another stream came from Silkweave's mouth, which wrapped itself around Becky's arms and feet, firmly binding her. Silkweave continued firing the web gun at Diana, binding her to the floor with the sticky webs.
"Diana, help!" exclaimed Becky as Silkweave placed her on its shoulders.
Turning to Diana before it left with Becky, it yelled out, "Come, Wonder Woman, come if you dare. Use tracking device to find me!" roared Silkweave as it tossed a device that landed near Diana. Silkweave leaped out of the window, disappearing with Becky Tisher.
* * *
Diana was firmly pinned to the floor, struggling frantically for several minutes to escape. "Oh God, I have to stop that creature...." said Diana to herself. Grabbing a pair of scissors that fell onto the floor, Diana started to slowly cut a hand and arm free of the sticky webs. Once her arm was free Diana cut away the sticky webs and rose to her feet. Spinning in a circle and a crack of thunder later, Wonder Woman emerged once again!
Picking up the tracking device, she noticed a "blip" moving south, toward some old abandoned mine shafts. Leaping out the window and landing onto the ground below, Wonder Woman began her pursuit of Silkweave.
* * *
Meanwhile, Silkweave had carried Becky to its hidden lair, an old cave outside of Washington, DC. Becky had blacked out after Silkweave captured her, and slowly awoke. Waking, she tried to move, only to notice herself laying spread eagled on a large, sticky web.
"I have to get out this...but how?" thought Becky to herself. Noticing that it was only her clothes that was stuck to the webs, Becky began to slowly slip out of them. Sliding her right arm out of her blouse sleeve, she unbuttoned her blouse slipped her left arm out and sat up, unbuttoning her jeans and removing her shoes. Wearing only her white panties and a white tank top, Becky slid her legs and feet out of her jeans and slowly slipped through the gaps within the giant web, landing on her feet onto the ground below.
As Becky took a few steps to get away she was already detected. Two small robot spiders noticed her movement, and began firing this sticky silk webs that wrapped around her ankles, tripping her onto the ground stunned.
"Excellent work. I shall finish the rest...." said Silkweave as it bound Becky's hands behind her back with webs and wrapped her arms and legs in the soft, silky web strands, and then placing her back onto the giant web.
"Unnnh! Oohhh!" struggled Becky as she tried to break free from the silk webbing that bound her. "What are you going to do with me??" asked Becky. Silkweave replied with an evil smile and held a feather in its hand and said, "You will find out soon enough."
* * *
Using the tracking device, Wonder Woman reached the cave where Silkweave was hiding. The cave was a group of old mineshafts linked together and was remarkably well lit. Cautiously, Wonder Woman entered the cave.
Meanwhile, Silkweave continued formulating its plans. Scrolling up some files Prodigy with its mouse on a stolen PC, Silkweave located its next power plant target.
"Yes...the Dunham Power and Light Company....rich, electricity producing turbines.....so delicious...." cackled Silkweave as it glowly with an aura of electricity. "But must first deal with more pressing matters."
Silkweave returned to the web where it was holding Becky captive. Walking on the web as like any normal surface, Silkweave smiled as it began to gently tickle Becky's stomach with a feather.
"Hee-hee! Hey, cut that out! I can't move to get away!" giggled Becky.Silkweave continued tickling her stomach and ribs with the feather, making Becky hysterical with laughter. "No! Please! Let me go..." giggled Becky.
"Stop what you're doing this instant!" authoritatively said Wonder Woman. Silkweave said nothing, but smiled as the two small robot drone spiders fired webs at Wonder Woman, binding her from her neck to her ankles in sticky silk threads. Seconds later, Wonder Woman broke free instantly with her strength, snapping the strands into tiny fibers.
"You will have to do better than that, Silkweave!" said Wonder Woman.
"Agreed." replied Silkweave as it fired a stream of webs at Wonder Woman, binding her arms and legs in a tight cocoon that went from her neck to her ankles.
"Super strength is ineffective against my own webs which are energized with enhanced power...." gloated Silkweave as it carried the struggling Wonder Woman and stuck her to the giant web next to Becky.
Silkweave leaped off the web and left the cave, saying, "Follow me if you dare, allies of Andros, it will mean your downfall!!!" as it darted away.
Becky gave a surprised and confused look to Wonder Woman and asked, "Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know...." replied a struggling Wonder Woman.
"There's just so many layers!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as she struggled. Becky looked on and tried to get loose, to no avail. Several minutes later Wonder Woman managed to maneuver an arm free and began ripping the strands that bound her. Minutes later Wonder Woman was free, and then freed Becky.
"Where to next? Do you think Silkweave will be at the Dunham power plant?" asked Becky as she put her clothes back on.
"No." replied Wonder Woman. "Look at this schematic map Silkweave left behind. From its markings it points to here: the old Murraysville hospital."
"The old sanitarium?" said a perplexed Becky. "It's been closed since the 1980s, there's nothing there, it's not even powered anymore."
"But look, the power grid junction of three major power plants in the DC and Maryland area rendezvous under the hospital. If Silkweave taps into that junction...."
"....then Silkweave will drain energy from three power plants at the same time!" exclaimed Becky. "I know a shortcut to Murraysville hospital through the woods outlying this old mine. We can get there is a few minutes!" said Becky as the two left the mine.
Wonder Woman arrived at the old sanitarium, which appeared lit and well maintained even though it's been deserted for a few years. "Silkweave probably activated the backup generator for the lights..." said Wonder Woman to herself as she entered the hospital cautiously.
Through a maze of hallways Wonder Woman searched room after room for a sign of Silkweave with no luck. Searching the isolation wards, Wonder Woman was attacked from behind by Silkweave. As she checked out a padded cell room a massive web hit her from behind, binding her arms together. An additional web struck Wonder Woman at her ankles, tying her feet and forcing her to the ground.
Wonder Woman rolled to her back to see her foe: it was Silkweave indeed.
"You are truly a worthy opponent." gloated Silkweave. "But I must now subdue you to prevent you from stopping me." said Silkweave as it began tickling Wonder Woman's knees.
"No! hee-hee! Stop! Let me go! hee-hee!" giggled Wonder Woman as she frantically struggled against the webs. "So sticky...and strong...can't break...free..." laughed Wonder Woman.
Meanwhile, Becky Tisher arrived at the sanitarium as well, and could hear Wonder Woman's laughter through the hallways. Grabbing an old piece of wood as a weapon, Becky followed the sounds and reached the room where Silkweave was tickling Wonder Woman.
"Let her go, monster!" yelled Becky as she smashed the board on Silkweave. The board broke into tiny splinters, and Silkweave turned and glared at Becky.
"eep." squeaked out Becky as she fainted.
Silkweave fired its web gun again at Wonder Woman, cocooning her even tighter than before. Picking up Becky, Silkweave left the padded cell room, leaving Wonder Woman firmly bound.
"No! Let her go!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as Silkweave left.
Silkweave wandered aimlessly around the corridors, reaching a small room and placed Becky on a bed. Removing her clothes, Becky was left wearing her white tank top and panties. Procuring an old strait-jacket, Silkweave slipped the restraining device on Becky's slender body and secured it tightly. Laying her on the bed, Silkweave spread Becky's legs and strapped her to the bed at her ankles and her waist with the leather restraints attached to the bed.
Becky began to stir. "Huh? Hey! Unnnh! Mmmmmp! Unnnh!" struggled Becky against the tight strait jacket.
"What is that Earthling phrase? ah, yes, 'goochy, goochy, gooo'" said Silkweave as it began tickling Becky's feet.
"No!" laughed Becky. "Stop that! That tickles!" laughed Becky some more.
Summoning the last of her strength, Wonder Woman broke free of the cocoon, snapping the webs into tiny strands. Panting to catch her breath, Wonder Woman left the room looking for Becky.
After a few minutes of tickling Becky's feet Silkweave removed an old fusebox that was in the room. "Yes...YES! This is the junction!" said Silkweave. Splicing some wires and attaching an alien device to the fusebox, electrical energy emanated from the box, making Silkweave glow with strange nimbus.
Wonder Woman arrived in the room and kicked down the door.
"Die, Earthling!" roared Silkweave as it fired an electrical surge at Wonder Woman, which was deflected with her bracelets.
"You cannot stop me, Wonder Woman....the power....THE POWER!!!!!" roared Silkweave.
"Wonder Woman! In my pants.....there's a device from Andros!!!" cried out Becky.
"What?!" yelled Wonder Woman through the thunder and lightning.
"There! On the floor! The white crystal! Use it!"
Wonder Woman dodged another electrical bolt made by Silkweave and grabbed the crystal. The crystal suddenly glowed and began draining the electrical energy from Silkweave. The crystal suddenly grew hot, and Wonder Woman dropped it onto the floor while it continued draining Silkweave's energy.
Wonder Woman dashed to the bed and began to untie Becky from the straps and strait jacket. "What was that?" asked Wonder Woman.
"No time to explain, let's go!" yelled Becky as she grabbed her clothes and left the room with Wonder Woman.
"NOOOOOOO!" yelled Silkweave as it collapsed onto the ground unconscious.
"What did that device do?" asked Wonder Woman.
"Andros told me that it was a containment field that drained Silkweave's energy once it began tapping into outside energy. It's like siphoning gas; Silkweave was stealing cups while we were taking gallons from it." smiled Becky.
"I just wonder what we do now..." concluded Becky.
"Leave that to me." said Andros.
"Andros?!" exclaimed Wonder Woman in surprise.
"Yes, it is I. I shall teleport Silkweave back to its homeworld. Without its stolen energies, it is harmless. Thank you, Wonder Woman. Thank you, Rebecca. You have saved our world, and yours....." replied Andros as it faded from sight with the crystal and Silkweave's unconscious body.
"Not a bad day's work...." smiled Becky.
"Not bad at all...." returned Wonder Woman with a smile. | 4 |
1,386 | The Domination of Wonder Woman - Part 3 | As Danny's car sped away, Drucella made her way down the dirt road that ran down to the beach. She had a difficult time convincing the boy she lived here and that she didn't want to ride with him anymore. "I don't know why everyone's so protective. Nothing's going to happen to me. I can take care of myself," she blasted as she stomped down the road.
After about 20 or 30 feet, past the visibility of the road, the young amazon stopped and began to twirl. In a blinding flash, Wonder Girl stood where Drucella once was.
Running at an amazing speed, she bounded and leapt down the road and cliff faces as she headed for the beach below. In a matter of a few minutes, she had leapfrogged her way to the bottom and stood in the white sand of the beach.
The sun had gone down at this point, but the moon was full and it lit up the beach like a huge, soft spotlight. Of course, Dru didn't actually need that much light to see since her amazon physique gave her super vision along with her other abilities.
"Where should I start," Dru said as she slowly moved around the beach. So anxious was she to lay her hands on a few Nazis that she hadn't noticed a sentry sitting halfway up the hill that overlooked the beach.
Since Pamela's unannounced visit, the countess had decided a sentry would be a good thing to have. At first, the guard didn't see the young nymph coming down the hill since his vision was only normal and he could only see pale shadows and silhouettes. He continued to sit puffing away slowly on one of those delicious American cigarettes until Dru nearly landed on top of him as she did one of her 40-foot leaps down the cliff. All he could see was the underside of a very shapely girl passing nearly 3 feet overhead and shooting past him going downhill.
He quickly snuffed out his cigarette and slid behind some rocks, grasping his field phone. "Damn!" he exclaimed as he slowly cranked the phone and picked up the receiver.
- - -
The countess sat at her desk as she reviewed various photographs of US government personnel when her field phone rang.
"What is it," she said bluntly.
"Wonder Woman! Wonder Woman is coming up the beach," said the whispering, stuttering guard on the other end.
"WHAT!" screamed the countess as she quickly stood up. "Keep an eye on her! I'll be at the entrance."
As she slammed the phone down in its case, she called out to her two assistants. "Hanz, Fritz! Come with me!" she ordered. All three of them bolted for the side tunnel entrance.
The countess was an extremely attractive woman in her late 30s. Her family was the richest and one of the most influential families in all the Third Reich. She stood about 5'7" and had very long, jet-black hair that ran down to the small of her back. Her face was wide and full with two large, dark brown eyes and a wide, full mouth. Her eyes, no matter what expression, always had a slight tilt to them that gave her a devious look, giving anyone the impression that this woman always had something wicked and sexy on her mind.
Her body was stalky but fit with two above-average-sized breasts and a set of wide, motherly hips. Her muscles and fat hung lazily on her frame, giving her a constant relaxed and satisfied look. It was as though you could come up behind her and grab her literally anywhere, and she would not jump once.
Everything about this woman was dark, from her hair and eyes to her tight dress and skirt down to her silk stockings and black stiletto shoes. This woman's main weapon, besides her wits, was her body, which she took pleasure in using to get whatever she wanted.
She peered through the peephole out onto the moonlit beach. "Ah, this is not Wonder Woman," she said slowly as she continued to study Dru.
"Then who is it?" asked Hanz.
"It is the Wonder Girl our agents reported to us on their last visit here. She's not what I had expected, but I have an idea," the countess said as she stepped away from the peephole. "Quickly, we haven't much time!"
- - -
Drucella walked along the beach, twirling and scanning it as though ready for anything. Like a kid playing a game, she pretended that every rock had a Nazi behind it.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she could see a light shining out of a doorway in the rocks. "Ah ha!" she said to herself as she stealthily entered the doorway.
The hallway was poorly lit except for the one bright bulb at the entrance. Along the sides were several tall crates which formed a narrow corridor running down the center. At the other end, she could spy a female form facing her.
"Come into my web, said the spider to the fly," the countess mused.
"I don't know who you are, but if you're the countess, I'm going to capture you and your group of Nazis!" Dru proclaimed as she stood with her hands on her hips and her legs slightly apart.
"OOOOOO! I'm so afraid," mocked the countess as she hunched her back in pretend fear and wiggled her fingers at the young girl.
Like a steam locomotive blowing its stack, Dru snarled and bolted at the countess. In a matter of moments, she was on the dark-haired woman, but as she went to grab her, her hands bounced off a hard, flat surface.
The mirror fell backward and hit the soft dirt floor as Dru stood stunned and confused. At that moment, she felt a hard pull from behind as her magical belt left her waist.
The countess stepped out from behind one of the crates holding the belt. "Get her!" she cried.
At that moment, a mob of 5 men jumped out from behind various crates and piled on top of the now helpless Drucella. Dru wiggled and gyrated in futility as the mass of arms and legs wrapped themselves around her struggling body, holding it in place.
As they pulled her to the floor, a hand came from behind her head, and a handkerchief clamped itself down over her nose and mouth. She struggled wildly as the ether took effect, sapping the girl's strength.
The mass of bodies surged as the struggling girl fought in hopeless desperation to escape. At last, though, the overwhelming odds were too much, and the young amazon's struggles stilled. Drucella let out a soft, dull moan as she slipped unconscious.
The countess stepped up to the pile of men as they picked up the unconscious heroine. "Take her," the countess said nonchalantly as she examined Wonder Girl's lasso. "You've earned some ehem... entertainment."
With that, the men reveled in their captured prey and carried Dru down the dark, murky hallway toward the grotto.
"Yes, my dear Wonder Woman, you will come to save your sister," the countess said, holding up the lasso, "And I'll be waiting."
- - -
"Dru, Dru..." Diana called out as she walked into the living room. "Where is that girl," she thought as she looked about the apartment.
As she walked back into the living room, she spied Dru's note on the telephone.
"Damn!" Diana cursed, and with that, the large brunette bolted out the door and down to her car.
- - -
The countess slowly sauntered down one of the curved tunnels that made up the tiny maze of hallways in the underground base. The base wasn't built by the Nazis. Apparently, years ago, this cave was constructed by gangsters during the prohibition to smuggle and make liquor. In researching a place of operations, the German high command had found out about the grotto and made sure all records of it were removed from the local police records.
She made her way toward a large wooden door at the end of the narrow hallway. As she approached, a slight smile came to her face as the sounds of moans and grunts grew louder and louder. She knew the sound of torture when she heard it, and a slight tingle of excitement shot down her back and between her legs as she opened the cell door. She stood in the open doorway, staring and biting lightly on her lower lip as she watched in deviant satisfaction at the tantalizing spectacle before her.
Drucella was on the floor. Her hands were tied together and over her head and securely anchored to a large ring that hung from the ceiling. This left her in a doggie-style kneeling position with her upper body weight supported by her hanging arms.
She was stripped naked and was in the company of three of the dock workers. The first was laying on his back, parallel to Dru and underneath her. His legs were spread wide apart and they lay to either side of her knees. This put him in a position where his face rested almost right under the young captive's large breasts.
In each hand, he had firmly cupped each breast and was feverishly squeezing and massaging them. The large round orbs flattened and squished together violently as he took insidious joy in molesting them. His fingers pinched and pulled at her ripe, hard nipples, making each gland shimmy and slosh about as she reacted to each teasing tug with a twist of her torso.
Every now and again, he would wrap his arm around her back and pull himself up, landing his mouth hard down over an exposed nipple. Like some wild animal feeding, he would suck and squeeze her tit violently in some vain attempt at milking her dry.
Drucella grunted and moaned, but her helpless cries were muffled.The second worker was poised in front of her with his pants down around his ankles. With his hands clamped around her brunette head, holding it still, he slid his penis in and out of her mouth slowly, forcing the member deep into her throat with each pump. Drucella breathed heavily through her nose as the member completely blocked her mouth. Her lips wrapped around it tightly and she could do nothing as it penetrated her mouth again and again.
Behind her though, was the main reason for her struggling and moaning. Another dock worker was crouched behind her, his heavy, hard hands wrapped around her waist. He twisted and pounded his cock inside of her over and over as he viciously penetrated and raped her.
Her hips surged and wiggled about in defiance as he continued to thrust himself deeper and deeper into her defenseless vagina. With each intense thrust came a corresponding moan of resistance from the bound girl.
"Ah the great Wonder Girl, HA!" gasped the enraged worker. "I'll teach you a little lesson in manners BITCH!" he exclaimed as he stepped up fucking her.
As the worker increased his pumping, Dru began to wiggle about frantically. As she did so her head bobbed and rocked back and forth, intensifying the second worker's experience.
Like a balloon ready to burst, the pressure began to build. As each man thrust his cock into her, she reacted by gyrating in resistance. This excited the men even more and the vicious spiral continued to climb.
Then, almost as though she knew what would happen next, Dru began to moan wildly, grunting objective sounds of resistance as the two men began to arch their backs, surging in excitement.
Sensing the coming flood, the first man under her, grabbed her firmly around her back and plunged a breast into his mouth, sucking on it as hard as he could. Dru began to yell at this point, knowing she could not escape.
Swelling higher and higher, the mound of men and one girl surged inevitably upward. Then, in a moment of tension filled silence, both men let out a low, dull cry as each exploded inside her.
Drucella gulped and choked as the cum filled her mouth and forced itself down her throat. The man in front of her reached his hand down under her chin and slowly caressed the lump in her throat, forcing her to swallow heavily. The rest of the cum poured out around her mouth and trickled down her chin forming a trail of semi white liquid. This trail added to the already existing trails, made over the last few hours, that ran down her neck, over her chest and down each breast. That pretty little mouth had tasted several of the countess's men and this was most definitely not the last.
The worker behind her grabbed her buttocks with each hand and continued to penetrate her, making sure to pump every last drop inside. "How's that you American slut!" gloated the worker. "Maybe you like some more eh!? Maybe I let you lick it clean?!"
Dru rocked back and forth slowly as the two men continued to relieve themselves inside her. She had spent the last few hours at the hands of her tormentors being relentlessly violated. At first the experience was painful and rough but, as each man took his turn, she slowly began to slip into a state of semi-euphoria. Each penetration brought her new, overwhelming experiences as the shock passed and the waves of ecstasy poured through her.
"Enough." The countess said slowly and softly, "Can't you see our little guest is enjoying herself too much as it is? We don't want to over indulge her now do we?" she said in a sadistically, sarcastic voice, letting out a deviant chuckle as she entered the room and waved off the three men.
"Ya Vole." blurted the three men as they forcefully pushed the defeated female to the floor and stood to their feet, getting dressed.
They stood around the helpless female in a protective semi-circle as the countess walked around to Dru's front and knelt down to face her. Reaching out with one hand she softly grabbed Drucella by the chin and forced Dru to look her in the eye.
"Now you don't want to do this all day do you?" asked the countess.
"I would think the few hours you've had to get to know my men and to find out what kind of nice people they are would make you just anxious to be our little friend." she said smiling.
Drucella let out a defiant, animalistic snarl as she pulled her head away from the countess's stare. Drool and cum dribbled out of her wet mouth as she gritted her teeth and stared rebelliously back at the woman.
"When my sister gets here, you're going to be real sorry!" Dru exclaimed in protest in a low, rasping voice.
The countess pulled her hand away and looked at the cum on her fingers. Then, staring back at Wonder Girl she slowly plunged her fingers into her own mouth and sucked the cum from them, licking the remnants off each fingertip and off her lips.
Drucella's mouth opened slightly in surprise at the depravity of this woman.
The countess stood back up and smiled a cool, wide smile as though patronizing Drucella. "Don't worry my dear, your sister will be joining you shortly." she giggled as she walked to the door. She then gave one of the men behind Dru a quick stare and a nod.
With that, the three men pounced on the helpless heroine. Untying her hands they wrestled her to the floor, pulling her hands behind her back and tying them, first at the elbows, then at the wrists. They then proceeded to gag her, first stuffing her mouth with a rolled up rag and securing it in place with a long white handkerchief.
"Seeing how you don't want to talk, you don't mind being gagged now do you." chuckled the countess as she reached into her coat pocket and produced a long, thin, nicely decorated, black box about 12 inches long.
After trussing Drucella up, the men rolled the struggling amazon on her back. Two of the men each grabbed a leg and pinned her limbs down while the third held her down by the shoulders.
The countess walked around to Drucella's feet and knelt down between her legs. "And just so you don't get bored with your own silence, I think you should meet a very, very close friend of mine." said the countess as she opened the box and pulled out its contents.
The dildo was about 12 inches long, made of ivory and was carved with several wicked bumps and ridges that ran all down its length. At the end, a special protrusion ran from the base, back up the length and to the top. At the end of the protrusion was a large ball that clamped down on the phallic with a kind of spring tension. The whole thing looked like a huge, wide ball point pen with a pocket clip running along the outside. Also from the base ran two thin elastic strap loops.
"I call this my bitch tamer." said the countess as she leaned toward Dru and looped each elastic loop around Drucella's feet and slid the dildo up her legs. Dru surged and cried muffled cries of resistance as the over-sized dildo plunged into her. The clip portion slid up along the outside of her vagina, between her lips and the ball clamped down hard on her exposed clitoris.
The countess then took the loop ends and hooked them over Dru's wide hip bones, strapping the diabolic phallic in place. She then gave Dru a couple of affectionate pats on her tummy and stood up.
The two men holding her legs forced her legs together and, using several lengths of rope, they tied her legs together at the thighs, knees and ankles. They then returned to holding her down.
The bound and gagged nymph struggled and gyrated slowly as she tried to work the dildo out. "Oh you'll never get that out." the countess mused. "Oh by the way, let me show you my favorite feature." and with that the countess reached between Dru's legs and flipped a switch at the base of the dildo.
Drucella's hips surged uncontrollably as the phallic went to work vibrating and thrusting in a relentless attempt to defeat its victim. The countess then leaned over Dru's face and, kissing her two fingers she placed them on Dru's cheek and said "Good-bye my sweet. Soon you will be broken and you will tell me everything I want to know."
With that the three men let Drucella go and stood out of the way. Like a wild, bucking filly being let out of its shoot, Dru flailed and gyrated frantically on the floor as the waves of uncontrollable ecstasy pounded away at her will power.
The four left the cell staring and laughing at the bound and gagged heroine struggling and moaning on the floor. As they left they could hear a low dull moan from the helpless Wonder Girl as the first of dozens of climaxes claimed a little portion of her will power.
"She will break soon." the countess softly said to her men. "The real challenge will be Wonder Woman and I have a very special surprise in store for her." "It will be a pleasure bringing that American bitch down off her high pedestal.""Ah, the famous American avenger Wonder Woman. I've heard so much about you." said the man as he stood in her path. He was tall, lean and wore a thick black raincoat with a Stetson hat. "Is this what you are looking for?" he said as he held up Drucella's barrette, balancing it on his finger and sprouting a wicked smile.
"YOU!... What have you done with Dr... Wonder Girl!" Diana blasted almost blurting out Drucella's name. "I'm going to make you all PAY!" and with that Diana bolted for the mysterious gentleman.
Suddenly, like a train slamming on the brakes, she slid to a stop about 3/4 the way to her target. Stopping for a moment she spied the man more closely. "The buttons..." she thought to herself. Looking about she could see a stack of crates between her and her antagonist, a stack of crates that would be a perfect hiding place for what she suspected was going on.
Standing upright and confidently putting her hands on her hips, she cocked her hips to one side and sprouted a suspecting smile. "I didn't know women's clothing on men was the main fashion in Germany these days?" she asked coyly.
"Vas is this?" The man said looking very puzzled at himself. "Vat do you mean?"
"The buttons on your raincoat. They're on the wrong side. Either you like wearing women's clothing or..." Diana leapt forward, ignoring the man in front of her and headed straight for the hidden area behind the crates in front of her.
"...you're a reflection..." she stated as she pounced on the knook. With a burst of speed and agility she twisted him out from behind the crates and flipped him hard over her head and down the tunnel back toward the entrance.
At that point, two men stepped out from behind the stacks of crates between her and the exit and began shooting at her. She effortlessly deflected the first round of bullets with an arrogant smile.
The two men paused for a moment and then took steadier aim, firing continuously at the amazon. This time the task was harder as each shot was much better aimed and the two men fired at separate areas.
Shortly, however, the satisfying sound of "click...click" rang from both guns as both men expended their rounds. They dropped their guns and headed back toward the exit. Wonder Woman shot after them in hot pursuit as the two agents bolted out the secret entrance door and out onto the beach.
She forcefully plowed into the stone door, forcing it wide open as she emerged onto the stone ledge that overlooked the beach. As she jumped down into the sand, she unhooked her magic lasso and began twirling it. She couldn't use it in the tunnel since it was too narrow but, out here, she was free to wield it.
"Big mistake boys," she said confidently as she threw the line, "at least in the tunnel I couldn't rope you." The lasso coiled around both the running agents and, with a quick tug, she pulled the rope closed, smashing the two men into each other and flipping them backward onto the ground.
Slowly she sauntered up to the dazed men, reeling in the rope as she walked. "Now gentlemen, we're going to have a nice talk and you're going to tell me everything I want to know starting with where is Wonder Girl?"
Picking one of the men up by his coat collars Wonder Woman pulled him close to her, staring him straight in the eye. The agent dangled his feet as the amazon held him off the ground. "I guess its too bad for you I didn't fall for your little trap." Diana said arrogantly.
"On the contrary, THIS is the trap..." and with that the agent pulled a small pin from out of his coat and turned his face. The gas from the canister under his coat shot out like water from a fire hose directly into Diana's surprised face.
The buxom heroine reeled in shock as she staggered backward, taking the full blast from the canister. She dropped the half stunned agent as she tried to cover her mouth in a vain attempt at blocking the gas.
At that moment, she could feel something wrap around her shoulders as Drucella's lasso coiled around her. Instantly she could feel the effects of the magical item as her will quickly faded. Thrashing and reeling like a roped stallion she twisted and struggled against both the gas and the magic rope.
"Don't fight it my dear," calmly said a female voice, "you cannot win." "How do you like our new gas?" the countess asked teasingly. "You see it works by skin contact and not by breathing it in. Since we're all wearing these nice thick raincoats and you're wearing that skimpy little outfit, the gas hardly affects us but I'm sure its taking its toll on you."
The countess was right. Diana's bare legs, arms and upper chest were covered with a thin layer of the white powder which quickly impregnated her skin, causing her to feel intensely dizzy. She could feel the beach spin out from under her as she rolled to the ground struggling.
As she hit the ground, several of the agents piled on top of her, rolling her on her stomach. With a quick yank she felt her magical belt slip away from around her waist. At that moment her strength went to normal and the men easily subdued the defenseless heroine.
"Tie her." ordered the gloating countess as she tossed the men Diana's loose rope. The men first took Drucella's rope and continued wrapping it around Diana's shoulders, pinning her upper arms. They then pulled her arms behind her back and bent each arm at the elbow, folding them into a box like configuration with her left hand resting near her right elbow and visa versa.
Using the remaining end of Drucella's rope, they tied her left hand to her right elbow and her right hand to her left elbow and then wrapped the rest around her parallel fore arms, binding the two arms tightly together.
Scooping up her thighs they wrapped her own rope around her legs, first at the thighs, then at the knees and finally at her ankles, securing the rope with a series of very tight knots.
Diana gyrated slowly as the anesthetic gas took its toll along with the effects of both ropes. By the time the men were done, the fallen heroine had barely enough will power to struggle slowly in desperation. Then a rag was forced into her mouth and another rag was tied around her head to hold it in place. The amazing Wonder Woman lay on the beach; bound, gagged and defenseless.
"Stand her up." ordered the countess. The men easily lifted the bundled heroine and stood her on her weakened feet. The countess looked deeply and coldly into Diana's defiant eyes. "I have looked forward to meeting the world famous American heroine Wonder Woman. I will look forward to breaking you." and with that the countess slide her hand between Diana's legs and firmly cupped her vagina.
Diana surged backward in shock as she realized what the countess meant. The men scooped up the struggling heroine and carted her like some bagged prey back toward the tunnel entrance.They floated and rolled slowly to either side of her chest, assuming their natural almost perfectly round form.
As her costume continued to slide further down, she could feel the hands of her undresser slowly and smoothly pass over her back, down her spine and over her buttocks. Every inch sent a chill down her spine as more and more of her was revealed to her captors. The man slid her costume the rest of the way down over her wide hips to her feet, slowly stroking her bare legs with his large coarse hands. At the same time her boots, bracelets and beret came off and hit the floor, stripping the heroine of her only remaining protection.
A dead silence hit the room as the men stared in awe at the almost perfect physical specimen before them. Even the countess was taken back by this woman's incredible body as she slowly walked up to Wonder Woman.
"Incredible," she said slowly, speaking to herself as she cupped one of Diana's large, globular breasts and slowly massaged it. For what seemed like an eon the woman stood there, slowly squeezing and caressing Diana's breast, stroking and sliding her fingers over her bare and aroused nipple.
The men stood about drooling with anticipation. This Wonder Woman was one thing but, seeing their boss who was also quite attractive, performing this incredible act with another woman was too much. The crowd began to bustle with excitement like a pack of dogs waiting for the first piece of meat.
The countess slowly sauntered to the exit, giving Diana a wide, evil smile as she walked past her and to the door. Then, stopping for what seemed like an eternity, the countess let the room grow silent. Diana's fear grew like a volcano as her heart pounded away each agonizing second. Then her heart sank to her stomach as the words hit her ears. "Break Her!"
With that, the horde of men let out a horrendous, Viking's yell of celebration as they all rushed toward the helpless heroine. Diana let out a few masterful kicks that sent one or two of the men to their knees but it was a token effort at best. Arms and hands enveloped the heroine's naked, struggling body and she fell backward into the vicious crowd.
At first she could feel dozens of hands all over her, sliding themselves up her legs, along her thighs, over her knees, around her buttocks, across her stomach... they were everywhere. She struggled and gyrated frantically in a futile effort to resist her captors. This alone was worth the price of admission as the incredible brunette's body put on an irresistibly erotic show. Just the pleasure of grabbing a soft, struggling thigh or a plump, tightening buttock, made most of the men greatly aroused.
The men then began to get organized. They soon realized that too many hands reaching for the cookie pot would leave no one with a cookie. Holding Wonder Woman up at all times, two of the men wrapped their arms around her back to support her. One arm went under her back while the other was free to play with the prizes that lay helplessly before them.
Each man cupped a breast, forcing the nipple into his mouth, squeezing and massaging the large gland frantically. These were the most amazing prizes in the universe and the men were not going to let this opportunity go to waste. Each tit surged and flattened, swelled and sloshed as her breasts were sucked and squeezed feverishly and relentlessly by the two mindlessly aroused men.
Diana moaned and screamed viciously as the barbarians continued to molest her breasts. Her hair splashed about in waves of violent emotions like water on a stormy sea as the men bit and sucked at her ripened nipples.
Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed a clump of her hair at the back of her head and pulled her head down, curling it toward her back. From an upside down view she could see a large, callused hand unzipping a pair of pants as the dock worker standing over her head pulled out his penis.
Diana's hips rose in a stiff, defiant arch as the worker's hard, swelled member plunged itself deep into her soft, warm mouth. She grunted and moaned heavily as he began to slide it back and forth in a rhythmic, pulsating fashion. Her large, full, red lips wrapped themselves tightly around his penis and she began to suck on it in an almost instinctual, reactive way.
She was not as frightened of the situation as she was frightened of the fact that this whole predicament was turning her on. On Paradise Island she was a princess, a person of royalty who could not permit herself one personal pleasure or allow herself to fall to the weakness of the flesh. Most temptations she could resist, like the incident with Pamela (part 1) but this was different. So many hands, such barbarism. The sensation of all those hands groping and molesting her royal body. She had never felt like this before and it excited her. She fought the sensation however, knowing she could not give in to her temptations.
Her thoughts were harshly shattered however as the unthinkable occurred. Her hips surged again as another worker slid his bare hips between his legs and began entering her. Diana's hips slid about wildly and frantically as his penis slowly worked its way deeper and deeper past the tightened, defiant muscles in her vagina. Irresistibly she yielded to his overwhelming strength as his member hit home, fully penetrating her.
She grunted and moaned in futility as he began to slowly and rhythmically pump in and out, her defiant hips slowly thrust with each insertion. The two began to form a rhythm and her resistance began to wane as the worker continued his relentless assault on her virtue.
The workers now formed a large mass of bodies as the naked, helpless female in the middle thrust and surged as her body was forcefully entered. The erotic moans and whines from the Amazon were the only sounds coming from the group, with none of the men speaking or making a sound so as not to disturb the arousing noises coming from the struggling heroine. The men that could not participate were not without entertainment however as the vision of this incredible woman being gang-banged was as good, if not better, than actually being in the act.
The capture, tying up and assault were taking their toll on Wonder Woman as she began to wiggle about violently. The heavily, fatiguing activity she was going through; her mouth being entered, her breasts being maliciously violated and her vagina being ruthlessly penetrated began a heavy, tingling wave which started at her pelvis and slowly moved toward her chest. "NO!" she screamed in her mind. "How can I do this... I can't be enjoying this..." she thought in disbelief as the climax began to build. She fought to resist the oncoming event but her will was severely weakened by her attack and Drucella's rope, which still bound her hands tightly behind her back.
Suddenly, her hips thrust and surged quicker and quicker as she blurted out moans of defiance. Both men feeling the oncoming wave began quickening their pace along with the two sucking her breasts. The sensations were overwhelming, the powerlessness, the bondage, the hands groping her, the defenseless position she was in, these all raced through her mind as her body plunged upward in one last defiant surge. Then with a monstrous release, she collapsed into the arms of her rapists as the first climax took a piece of her will.
At that same moment, her struggles had excited the two men penetrating her and, at the pinnacle of her climax, they discharged, relieving themselves inside her.
As the two men relaxed into a slow pumping rhythm, the man violating Diana's mouth was forcefully pulled away. His discharge sprayed over her face as he was pushed aside and the next worker moved into place, plunging his member deep into her gasping and helpless mouth.
The other man was also forcefully asked to step aside and she thrust again as she could feel a new penis enter her. Her struggling quickened as she slowly began to regain her wits and her two new assailants began enjoying their captured prize. Thinking the climax was over and now she could fight, her heart sank in hopeless desperation as the next wave of sexual excitement rushed up and overwhelmed her.
Each man finished enjoying himself and another took his place, then another, then another until the waves of climaxes and multitudes of sensations made her lose count. Hand after hand groped her breasts, mouth after mouth sucked her nipples. Her mouth and face were covered with heavy streams of cum as she was taken advantage of over and over again. Each penetration brought her new sensations and each climax took away a small piece of her will. The heroine continued to come in hopeless despair as her body was raped again and again.The rope continued snaking down around her waist, around her hips several times, around her thighs several times, around her knees and finally around her ankles. She was like a fly, cocooned in a spider's web, all tied up and sucked dry.
Her head hung down with her matted, wet hair flopped over her bare chest and shoulders. Her breasts were still shapely and firm but were red and tender and they had lost a certain amount of perkiness. They lay loose and low over her stomach.
Her legs and hips were very loose and hung in a defeated posture against the post. Streams of dried cum and sweat stains streaked down the insides of her full thighs, along her shapely legs and to her ankles.
The defeated woman began to moan softly as the countess grabbed her prisoner by the hair and raised her head. Wonder Woman's mouth was gagged with a rag stuffed inside and a thick terry towel tied around it to secure it in place. Her eyes had thick, dark circles under them from the hours of fatigue and torturous climaxing she had gone through. Her eyelids were heavy and dull from exhaustion.
"The great Wonder Woman. HMPH! Look at you NOW!" scoffed the countess. "I always knew you Americans were weak. We Germans are much stronger. Breaking you was too easy." and with that she roughly pulled Diana's gag off.
Dried streaks of cum and saliva stained Diana's chin and neck. Her dull, dried mouth slowly began to speak. "I'll never break." she rasped slowly. "You'll never defeat my will."
A smile of absolute delight burst from the countess's lips. "YES! You are strong!." and with that, the countess grabbed the back of Diana's head and forced Diana to kiss her. The kiss was long and deep and slow. The countess oscillated her lips heavily as she drew out the long, passionate kiss. She then sucked on Diana's lower lip, slowly pulling it outward with her own lips and let it slip back with a slight pop.
"Take her to the room." the countess ordered as she strutted away with delight. The two agents, carefully untied the defeated heroine and carted her off, one caring her bound arms and chest, the other her thighs and legs.
Diana could only see hazy images of lights as she was carried down several corridors. Soon she was stood upright again as the four reached their destination.
The room was rather large, about 20 feet in diameter, and was very circular with the only apparent exit or entrance being the door they came in from. The middle of the room was dominated by a large, unidentifiable, rectangular shape that was covered with a thick, black cloak. The shape was about ten feet tall, 6 feet across and about two feet thick.
"I've been waiting for this." the countess gloated as she grabbed Wonder Woman by her chin and forced her to stare into the witch's black eyes. "Remove the cloak." she ordered, unaltering her gaze.
The two men removed the cloak and stepped aside. The countess slid around behind Diana and wrapped her arms around her chest, cupping each breast with her hand. "Take a look my dear. This will certainly tame you."
Diana's eyes widened in utter horror as she staggered backward in shock. Before her was a machine shaped very similar to an old, medieval rack. It had a basic outer frame with crossing I beams from each corner. On the upper corners were two straps that resembled leather handcuffs. The bottom two corners had two stirrups and more leather straps. The whole frame was tilted back about 15 degrees and was propped up by two large supports. The whole thing looked like a large, metal picture frame. Running along its length and between the beams were several hydraulic cylinders, cables and pulleys. Various other mechanical devices were attached to parts of the frame and a whole band of cables ran from the frame to a control panel that was anchored to the side.
"OH YOU FIENDS!" Diana cried out as the two agents picked up her weakened, struggling body and carried it to the machine. Untying her hands, the two men forced her arms into the leather cuffs and secured them in place. They then slid their hands down and clamped Diana's legs into the stirrups, spreading her legs at about a 30 degree angle from each other. They finished binding their victim by wrapping a leather belt around her waist which clamped her gyrating pelvis tightly to the frame. They then stepped back and all three stared in amusement at the restrained heroine.
Diana surged and thrust wildly giving the three a very entertaining show of female struggling. After a bit, and after totally exhausting herself, Diana settled down and growled defiantly at the countess and her two lackeys.
"I demand to be freed!" Wonder Woman exclaimed, "I will never yield to you or the Nazis!".
"Oh, but we don't want you to." replied the countess. "You're so much more entertaining this way." and with that all three burst into a chorus of humiliating laughter.
"Here, let me show you my latest creation." said the countess as she walked up to the control panel. After flicking a few switches, Diana's eyes popped open as she could feel the whole apparatus come to life. Then, sensing some movement below, she looked down and gasped in horror.
Between her legs, a mechanical arm extended out from the frame. On the end of the arm was mounted a cylinder with various tracks on it. Each track had another arm extending from it but, what shocked Diana the most was what was on the end of each arm. Mounted ominously to each mechanical arm was a large dildo. Each arm sported a different a wicked model which was wet with lubricant and oil. Some were just large, smooth and round while others were rigged and insidiously curved. Each one rose like cobra snakes rearing their threatening heads toward the bound heroine.
Diana again began to twist and wiggle at her impending fate. "Yes my dear Wonder Woman. I'm sure these will finish you off. I just hope you last as long as I did. It took almost two hours for me to break." said the countess as she stared long and admiringly at the device.
The machine continued to unfold, like some insidiously deviant Swiss army knife. Two arms on either sides of Wonder Woman's breasts curled forward from the machine's sides and two large suction cup devices, mounted to their ends, positioned themselves ominously over Diana's plump, bare breasts.
"My machine can break anyone, including you Wonder Woman, if it has a sufficient amount of power and I think we have the perfect little dynamo right here." and with that the countess clapped her hands and the door to the room opened.
Drucella slowly sauntered into the room and walked up to the gloating countess. She was stripped completely naked except for her red boots, her baret and her magical belt, which sat snugly around her thin waist. Her hands were tied in front of her with Diana's magic lasso and she wore a glazed, hypnotic stare which made her oblivious to Diana and everything else around her.
"Your magical rope is quite amazing Wonder Woman." noted the countess. "After breaking this little nymph's will, it was quite easy to control her mind with it. She'll do anything I ask."
The countess stepped back and looked at one of her agents. "Satisfy my man!" harshly ordered the woman. Without a moments hesitation the young amazon walked up to the agent and knelt down in front of him. She then unzipped his pants and wrapped her full lips around his enlarged erection.
The man grabbed her head and held it firmly as he took advantage of this girl's magical mouth. Diana starred in shock, not at the act, but at how well Dru was performing it. "Where the heck did she learn to do that!" Diana wondered giving her bonds another desperate tug.
After a few moments the agent let out a deep, low grunt as he released. Drucella finished up by licking him absolutely clean. She then stood up running her tongue over her wet lips and stood at attention.
"Come my dear." said the countess as she took Wonder Girl by the rope tied around her hands and lead her to a treadmill which stood off to one side of the room. The treadmill had several leather straps and rings attached to it and the countess attached the straps to a leather collar that sported several rings. She then ordered Dru to stand on the treadmill and she affixed the collar around her neck, securing the girl in place.
Walking up to Diana, the countess picked up Drucella's lasso and began wrapping it around the brunette's upper chest, securing it in place with a decoratively looped bow. Diana lurched as the effects of the lasso began to again dominate her mind.
"I assume her lasso works the same way?" the countess asked with an arrogant gleam in her eye. Stepping back she sprouted a wicked smile. "YOU'RE HORNY!" she ordered.
Diana surged uncontrollable as the lasso compelled her to obey. Waves of sexual excitement rippled through her bound body as she softly moaned and cooed. "Never... thought of... doing this before..." Diana thought to herself wondering about all the other possibilities this could open up for her.
The countess then walked over to the hypnotized Wonder Girl and gave her a horse's swat on the rear. "YA MULE!" she ordered and Wonder Girl began to trot along at a mild pace.
The machine sprang to life as the mechanical arms began to move into place. Diana thrashed and wiggled frantically as the arms moved closer and closer to her unprotected body. To anyone else, running the treadmill would have been exhausting but having her magical belt on, Wonder Girl wasn't even breaking a sweat.
The first things to go were Diana's breasts. The large suction cup attachments plunged down on her tits and sucked them inside, almost totally engulfing them.The cups began to squeeze and massage her tits, sucking and pressing them up and down in a rhythmic pumping fashion. She could feel her nipples being pinched and sucked as some sort of devious attachment inside acted like a mouth, gorging themselves on the massive glands.
She shifted and twisted her chest in a vain attempt to shake off the mechanical molesters but her struggling only added to her stimulation as the implanted command from the lasso continued to pound away at her will.
Suddenly, the room echoed with an enormous female scream of excitement and shock as Diana yelled out defiantly. A large, white dildo forcefully entered her defenseless vagina. Her hips thrust and wiggled violently against the forceful entry but the leather strap around her waist prevented her from moving about, restraining her struggles.
The moaning and yelling continued as the large round phallic traveled deeper and deeper. Diana's head thrashed from side to side as the uncontrollable experience overwhelmed her.
"CLIMAX!" the countess ordered. The fettered Wonder Woman let out the most erotic and sensual, moaning cry any of them ever heard. Diana climaxed hard and wildly as she was commanded to, and streams of lubricant poured down the dildo as she heavily discharged. The sound alone was incredibly exciting as the two men shifted their erections in their pants. Diana began panting and grunting as the dildo began sliding in and out, pumping her higher and higher toward another overwhelming climax.
"Faster, faster!" ordered the countess to the obedient Drucella. The harnessed amazon stepped up her pace, switching to a quick jog. The machine responded by squeezing Diana's tits more violently and by pumping the dildo faster and faster. Diana thrashed and moaned uncontrollably as the relentless onslaught continued.
Too overwhelmed to notice the activity behind her, Wonder Woman squealed a cry of shock as another phallic came from behind and inserted itself in her rear. She immediately clamped down hard on the ridged dildo with her plump buttock muscles but her efforts were to no avail as her anus was deeply penetrated.
Every part of the heroine's body was now gyrating and thrusting in futile defiance as her vagina and her anus were both being penetrated and violated by this insidious machine. The machine made whirring and grinding noises as its raped victim thrust about in desperation. Then with a violent surge, Diana swelled upward and another climax claimed her.
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!" bellowed the countess. "Your moans and cries are music to my ear. It will be a pleasure destroying you! Now I want you to come again!"
Without hesitation the buxom amazon exploded with another climax, yelling even deeper and louder than before. "My you are a moaner aren't you," teased the countess, "we'll just have to fix that. Gag HER!"
One of the men walked up to the machine and produced a large leather bondage gag. He grabbed Diana's thrashing head and forced the mouth piece in place. He then wrapped the leather pad over her mouth and strapped it tightly to her head.
Wonder Woman's cries were reduced to muffled moans and grunts as the machine's first dildo removed itself and a new, curved one slid forcefully into place. This new one was bad enough but the machine also slid another, smaller one underneath it, filling her with two phallics that both slide back and forth like the pistons on a steam locomotive. The ridged phallic in her rear also retracted and was replaced by a fatter, smooth one which sent her hips surging in erotic pain.
As she gyrated helplessly, the countess continued to blurt out commands. "CLIMAX! CLIMAX! CLIMAX!" Again and again the bound and gagged heroine came. Helpless to resist, her will power grew weaker and weaker and the machine tore her down like a child knocking the blocks out from under a large toy tower.
For what seemed like hours the two fought, machine against woman, the amazon climaxing again and again as her futile, gyrating wrestling match with her mechanical rapist feverishly continued. Suddenly, the countess gave her a new order, an order Diana was fearing and one she was helpless to resist.
"SURRENDER TO ME!" slowly ordered the countess and with that the tower came tumbling down. The magic lasso blasted the order through every part of Wonder Woman's tortured mind and she cried out in futility. The climaxes, the bondage, the torture and the lasso were too much and nothing could save her.
The bound and gagged super heroine surged upward one last time in a final death throw of resistance, but, like a soaring bird being shot down, she collapsed in defeat as the last climax blasted away her will power. Diana stared out into the distance, a hazy, hypnotic trance came over her eyes. The unthinkable had occurred. The great Wonder Woman was DOMINATED!
The countess ordered Wonder Girl to stop and walked up to the motionless Wonder Woman. She removed the amazon's gag and stared into her hollow eyes. "You will obey me. I am your mistress. I own you and your will." softly spoke the countess.
A long silence passed, then, slowly Diana opened her mouth. "I.... I... must obey.... You are the mistress."
The countess jumped back and screamed in triumph. "I have WON! I have defeated the great Wonder Woman!" Then, looking back at her dominated foe she ordered Drucella to continue. "Enjoy my dear. You're going to be fucked like this FOREVER!"
The machine continued to pound away at its defeated victim. Climax after climax again overwhelmed the helpless Wonder Woman and she soon fell unconscious, totally defeated, the last sounds being the triumphant laughter of her dominator, the countess.
Diana's eyes slowly began to open. Her head swirled and throbbed as her dazed and numb body came to life. She did not struggle or even think to resist. Her will was broken and it would take a long time to gain it back.
She was laying on her back, in a packing crate that was slightly larger than her dimensions. Her hands were tied behind her back with her own lasso. Her legs and feet were securely bound together and her naked body lay bound and tied with several coils of rope which looped dozens of times around her ankles, knees, thighs, waist and arms. Her mouth was covered with a medical oxygen mask which fully gagged her and prevented any noise or screaming. A hose ran from the base of the mask down her body and to a small tank of gas which sat in the crate next to her.
Looking up she could see the countess through a thick haze of dizziness. Her eyelids rocked heavily and slowly as she fought to stay awake.
"Ah, I see you're awake. Good." said the countess as she reached into the crate and caressed Diana's bare breast. "Its time for us to return to the Fatherland and we are taking you and Wonder Girl back with us." "Good night Wonder Woman. Get your rest. You will need it." and with that the countess reached down and turned the valve on the tank.
Diana could hear a hollow whistling sound as the anesthetic gas coursed through the hose and filled her lungs. Her body wiggled slightly as the effects of the gas took affect. Slowly her eyes slid shut and the amazon fell asleep.
The countess stepped away from the crate and turned the valve on Wonder Girl's canister, putting the naked young amazon to sleep as well. The dock workers then covered the crates with wooden lids and nailed them shut.
"We are ready to depart my mistress." reported her man. "Good! Load our precious cargo on board and keep them asleep. They will make good breeding stock for the master race when we get back home."
The men hoisted the crates on board and the countess slipped into the hatch and closed it. The sub blew its tanks and headed out to sea and headed for home with its kidnapped cargo on board. | 3 |
1,440 | Batgirl and Catwoman [Rape, Bondage] | CLUNK! The dish dropped another inch. The two exhausted heroines sprang back to life as they again tried to bring on yet another climax.
"I can't take much more of this!" Catwoman mumbled desperately from underneath Batgirl. "I'm about ready to pass out!"
"Me too," Batgirl replied wearily. "We've got to escape, but how?"
Both girls could hear the bubbling of the deadly acid below them as they feverishly tried to think of anyway to escape. Suddenly, Catwoman squeezed Batgirl tightly and froze.
"What Catwoman! Don't pass out!" Batgirl screamed fearing the harsh skin treatment she was going to receive if Catwoman lost consciousness.
"No. I'm not beaten yet," Selena replied, "there, across the room." she said rolling both girls over so Batgirl could have a look.
There, sitting on a window sill licking its paws in anticipation of a fish dinner, was a blonde hared tabby. It sat looking in curiosity at the two unusual fish laying on the disposal dish.
"A cat!" Batgirl cried out spraying Catwoman's lubricant with a heavy breathe of shock. "What the hell are you getting excited about a cat for!" she cried.
"Just hold still!" Catwoman replied harshly squeezing the small of Batgirl's back so tight that she was unable to barely breath let alone move. Selena stared over Barbara's rear into the cat's eyes and for a moment the two didn't move, woman and cat staring long and deep into each other's eyes.
The plate began dropping at a regular pace now. Barbara sprang to life in wiggling desperation as she tried to continue in a futile attempt at stopping the winch again. Selena, however, continued to hold the frantic heroine firmly, completely ignoring the winch's downward progress. The sounds of the acid grew louder and louder as the plate grew closer to the pool. Then, Barbara froze in shear terror as she heard the sizzle of the acid as it made contact with the underside of the plate. It was only seconds now before she would die a horrible, painful death.
Suddenly, the tabby sprang to life and leapt off the window sill, jumping almost halfway to the tank in a single leap. Then, like some driven jungle cat it bolted across the floor and jumped up the metal staircase to the winch controls. Sitting there for just a moment it looked curiously at the controls, cocking its head sideways in slight confusion. It then reached up with both paws and leaned all its weight on the winch lever, pulling it completely down.
The machine made a loud clunking sound and the plate shook to a stop. Then the machine made a series of loud hissing sounds as various pistons let out their air pressure and the plate raised back up, over the side of the tank and was set back down safely on the ground.
The two girls quickly rolled off the plate and onto the cold cement floor. Barbara, seeing a puddle of fresh, hissing acid near her, leaned her hands out and dipped her ropes in the tiny pool. After a few moments, the acid burned her ropes through and the two girls were free.
"How did you... what happened... how did that cat...?" Barbara stammered in utter confusion as she finished removing the ropes tied around her legs and waist.
Selena took Barbara by the chin and looked her deep in the eye. "They don't call me Catwoman for nothing." she said in a deep, calm, sultry voice, sprouting a wicked, sinful grin.
Both girls stood up slowly, never breaking eye contact. Selena's hand slowly guided Barbara, by her chin, to her feet. Both girls were scared to death. They stood, facing each other, shivering from both the cold, stone floor and from the massive amounts of adrenaline that was coursing through their veins. Both of their naked, wet bodies were covered with a thick, shimmery film of sweat from the experience and from utter physical exhaustion.
Selena's firm grip softened and she slowly slide her hand over Barbara's soft, girlish cheek. She gently caressed her cheek, moving her hand back and forth, barely touching the surface of Barbara's skin.
Barbara stood staring back at Selena, her lower lip quivering slightly from the excitement. She raised her hand and slide her fingers tenderly over Selena's left nipple, touching it just enough to move the nipple slightly as each of her fingers made contact. She then moved her hand slowly down the curvature of Selena's large breast and gently slid her fingers along its underside, lightly stroking Selena's skin with slow and sensual tickles.
Selena surged slightly as a wave of warmth flowed up her back and across her shoulders. Her muscles sank as the sensation slowly relaxed her, making her feel pleasantly calm. Her tense face softened and she closed her eyelids as she let the feeling encompass her.
With her free hand, Selena reached over and slowly placed her middle finger under Barbara's bare nipple. With extreme care and delicacy, she slid her finger around the underside of Barbara's nipple, lightly tickling it, moving it ever so gently in a semi circular fashion.
Barbara's eyes slowly closed as she too surged with the sensation. Her nipples grew hard and erect as the sensation swept across her weary, naked body like a wave of warm water across a sun drenched beach. Her head curled back and her lips opened slightly as her mouth slowly relaxed.
Selena took a small step forward, moving close enough so the bottom of her breasts lightly touched the top of Barbara's. At the same time, she softly slide her hand around Barbara's waist and placed it firmly, but gently against the small of the young girl's back.
Barbara arched her back slightly as she opened her eyes with a gentle shock. Selena lowered her head and stared deeply into the young girl's heavy, light brown eyes. For a long moment both women stared into each others pupils, looking long and deep into each other's hearts and feeling the waves of sexual emotions that both girls shared. It was as though both were surrounded by some magical bubble which separated them from the rest of the world and brought them into their own private universe.
Moving slowly and carefully, Selena lowered her face and turned her head to one side as she cautiously brought her lips close to Barbara's. Barbara lowered her eyes as she innocently watched Selena's mouth grow closer and closer to hers. Not realizing she had moved her own arms, Barbara's hands had slowly curled around Selena, her one hand slightly touching Selena's back under her arm and the other reaching over the amazon's shoulder and lightly touching her auburn black hair.
Barbara could feel Selena's warm gentle breath on her lips as her mouth grew nearer. A wave of heavy, dull warmth flowed through Barbara as Selena made contact. She gently rocked her head ever so slightly, softly rubbing Barbara's lower lip with her own. The two girls began moving their heads slowly in a slight circular motion, tenderly touching and teasing the other's mouth with the light, gentle touch of the other's soft, dry lips.
Selena then drew in Barbara's lower lip with her lips, gently grabbing it and giving it a soft kiss, so soft that it barely moved Barbara's mouth. At first the innocent girl didn't respond, her mouth remained relaxed and motionless. Selena then moved her mouth over Barbara's lips so that her lips rested just against the girl's mouth. She then gave the young girl a slight kiss, barely touching her lips with her own. Again Barbara didn't respond.
Another gentle kiss followed. This time, Barbara moved her lips slightly in response. Selena pressed a little harder and kissed again. Barbara responded by tilting her head softly forward and pressing her lips against Selena's.Both girls drew each other close and they slowly kissed each other long, warm and tenderly.
Barbara had never experienced anything like this before. Of course, the previous few days' events had put her through a heavy array of intense sexual encounters, but this was different, unexpected, almost forbidden in nature. In one soft, sensual gesture, Selena had opened Barbara's eyes to a truly warm and wonderful hidden secret inside herself and, at the same time, had brought her true feelings about her own sexuality to the surface. She had never known she had compassion for or even cared about being with another woman, but now the feelings she had were so honest, so right.
The two girls embraced each other tightly and they began to heavily kiss each other, their hands gliding gently over each others' bare backs and shoulders. Selena then raised her head and cupped Barbara's cheek with her hand. With her other hand, she pushed on the small of Barbara's back and guided her toward the bedroom where Selena had originally been tied up and taken advantage of.
Batgirl sauntered into the room and, without hesitation, slowly crawled onto the large, king-sized bed and sat with her legs curled to one side, staring innocently and sensually at Catwoman. Selena quietly shut the door and walked over to a table that sat against the bedroom wall, never breaking eye contact with the young heroine as she traveled across the room.
On the table were several strips of black, silk cloth, the same strips that were used to bind and gag Selena earlier. Picking one up, she slowly walked toward Barbara, wrapping the ends of the cloth around each of her own hands and pulling it tight with a slight snap.
Barbara's shoulders sank and her eyes closed heavily as she leaned forward submissively toward Selena. The dark-haired amazon then sat down on the side of the bed next to her. Selena set the cloth across Barbara's bare thigh and reached out with both hands, placing them gently on the young girl's shoulders. Slowly and lightly, she ran her hands down Barbara's arms, pulling Barbara's arms together and crossing her hands in front of her.
Barbara's heart sank low and heavy in her chest as a wave of sexual anticipation rushed through her. This was too good to be true. This woman knew how to touch her, knew how to tease her, knew her every sexual fantasy. She was like an open book, bare and exposed to the world, and this wild, erotic woman knew how to read every word.
Selena tied Barbara's hands together in a snug but gentle knot. Grabbing the girl by her crossed hands and lowering her down with her other arm, Selena lay Barbara on her back and pulled her arms over her head. Using the remainder of the cloth, she tied the young girl's hands to the bed post, securing her safely in place.
After a few moments, Selena raised another cloth and slowly lowered it over Barbara's face. She pressed it firmly over the girl's eyes and wrapped it around her head, tying and blindfolding the young heroine.
Selena then leaned over Barbara and looked deep and long at her young, innocent and beautiful face. Slowly and teasingly, she again began to nip and kiss Barbara's wet, full lips. Both girls exchanged kiss after kiss, losing themselves in the experience.
After several long, passionate exchanges, Selena raised her head slightly and looked down at Barbara's bare breasts. Looking back at the young girl, she sprouted a pleasing smile as she ran her hand slowly and softly over Barbara's bare shoulders and down over her firm, ripe breast.
Her fingers danced lightly on the girl's delicate skin as they stroked the area around her erect nipple, making slow, gentle circles around it. Then, using the fingernail on her middle finger, Selena lightly flicked Barbara's ripe nipple, causing it to shift ever so slightly. Barbara moaned at the unexpected but pleasant feeling.
Using all three fingers, she then began to gently tickle the underside of Barbara's breast, teasing and taunting her nipple with an occasional flick or bump, never pressing hard enough to shift or move the breast or to cause its shape to change.
Barbara's chest surged slowly and she let out a soft, light moan as she tried to move her breast closer to the stimulation. Selena quickly moved her hand backward, making sure not to let the helpless girl get more than just a tease. Her fingers danced about on the surface of the young heroine's tight, soft skin like a hovering mosquito floating over a nice, juicy meal, never landing but teasing the girl with the anticipation of taking a ravenous bite.
Batgirl's chest rocked gently from side to side and her thighs slowly rubbed together as the sensation and anticipation began to build. When was she going to strike? When will her breast be taken? Now! Now!
But the teasing continued, relentlessly, mercilessly with the amazon stopping just long enough to allow the sensation to settle and not to allow it to become repetitive or numb. Stroke after stroke, tickle after light tickle. It was as though each breast was growing more tender and ripe, ready to burst at any moment.
Barbara began twisting and breathing heavily as she writhed in agony, hoping for some kind of release. Her sensations were then compounded as one of Selena's warm, gentle hands moved slowly over her bare, flat stomach and toward her unprotected vagina.
At first, she felt nothing. Her body began to settle down as the tingling in her breasts continued. "What was she doing?" Barbara thought "What could she be up..." but no sooner did she question Selena's activities then she tensed and surged in excitement. Barbara let out a slight moan as Selena slowly touched the inside of her bare thigh and slowly slid her fingers gently along the smooth skin between her legs.
Her hips rocked and twisted gently as the amazon lightly teased Barbara with her fingers, slowly running her hand closer and closer then back away from her vagina. As she did this, Selena also leaned over Barbara's chest and began slowly teasing her tender, ripe nipple again. She ran her nose over it lightly and nipped at it slowly and softly with her dry, full lips, making sure not to move it too much or to let Barbara get any release from the tension.
BAM!
Both girls froze in terror as the door to the fish factory burst open and the sounds of several men echoed through the hallways.
"Damn!" Batgirl exclaimed as she untied herself and popped up off the bed.
"We've got to get out of here," said Catwoman, helping Batgirl up, "If we're lucky, they'll think we dissolved in the acid."
The two girls grabbed their costumes off the dresser and headed for the large, factory-style windows that lined one side of the makeshift bedroom. After a few frustrating moments of climbing out a window while trying to get dressed, they scurried down the alley and to safety.
Back at Catwoman's lair, the two costumed heroines sat about, contemplating their last encounter with the three villains.
"Do you think anyone noticed us coming here?" asked Batgirl naively.
"Oh no," Catwoman replied, shaking her head sarcastically, "That cabby who picked us up and all those people in the street would never have noticed two, half-dressed women wearing masks and costumes."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Batgirl, giving herself a slight pop in the head with her hand. "I was wondering what all those Japanese tourists were taking pictures of."
"Well, good thing I checked with da... I mean Commissioner Gordon," said Batgirl. "He told me the Riddler left a riddle at the museum where you were kidnapped."
"Oh great," replied Catwoman, rolling her eyes in disgust, "Another damn riddle. You'd think the idiot was crazy or something. What kind of loon goes parading around in a costume doing goofy things like that!" she said angrily. Barbara looked over the note sideways at Catwoman, who was sitting in her white, bikini costume and mask, and raised an eyebrow, shooting her a judgmental look. Catwoman looked down at herself and nodded her head in disgust. "OK, OK FINE! Let's hear the stupid thing."
"It's a two-parter, so listen carefully," Barbara explained, squinting at the note. She wasn't used to reading without her glasses, but wearing a pair now would be just as revealing as Superman wearing his Clark Kent glasses.
"Everything is as light as me but I fall as fast as a cannonball... What am I?"
"Hmm..." said Catwoman, almost going into a coma as her mind went to work solving the riddle. Barbara could swear she could see little birdies circling the dark-haired avenger's head as all the woman's mental efforts strained at dealing with the mind-numbing poser.
"It's a feather!" Batgirl said knowingly as she gave Catwoman a slight swat on the arm. "You are such an airhead!"
"Yeah, well... that one was too simple. It threw me for a second. What's the next one!" she yelled, shooting Barbara a disgusted look.
"OK," Barbara said, perking up like a spoiled schoolgirl, "People spend their lives getting rid of me yet, in the end, they become me after all."
"Pssss... that's easy!" said Catwoman, waving her hand at the note, "Shit!"
"SHIT?" asked the surprised Batgirl.
"Yeah, SHIT! People are always getting rid of it, but when you die, you're in deep shit," the buxom brunette said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms in front of her, sprouting a smile of absolute pride.
"The Riddler's riddles also go together, TIT BRAIN!" scolded Batgirl. "Feather... Shit... Feather Shit... I don't think so," she said snootily. "I think the correct answer is DUST. We always try and get rid of dust, but we become dust when we die. Also, feather and dust go together as in feather duster."
"Oh yeah, MIZZZZZ Smarty pants... or shorts... or thong or whatever that is..."and with that Catwoman stomped over to a desk and snatched the phone book. She slammed it down on the table and began flipping pages. Then, sitting back, she sprouted another smile of accomplishment.
"There!" she blasted, slamming her point home with her finger as she pointed to the phone book. Barbara leaned over and stared at the entry at the tip of Catwoman's finger. There, between 'Feataccini's Noodle Factory' and 'Featwhyler's Feet and Foot Fetish Emporium', was an entry for 'FeatherShitte Manufacturing'.
"DOH!" blurted Batgirl as she slapped her hand over her forehead and shook her head in disgust.
"I should have realized," Batgirl whispered as both women stood on an adjacent roof top staring down at the large factory. "the abandoned FeatherShitte Feather Duster Factory on Falling Feather Lane."
"God what a name," said Catwoman. "It's almost like someone thought it up for some lame kiddies show or something."
"Well if that's the case," Barbara replied, "we are two very hard up, desperate actresses working a dead end career job. I mean get real, what kind of BIMBO would dress like this just to get an acting job." she finished.
Both girls looked at each other for a long moment and then shook their heads in an attempt at rubbing out the absurd idea. "Not me. The last thing I want to do is end up as a down and out, overweight, out of work has-been who has to resort to doing Star Trek episodes to make ends meet," replied Catwoman.
"You said it! Let's split up," Batgirl said. "I'll go through that side door down there and you make your way around back and see if you can get in."
"Sounds good to me," said Catwoman and she bounded off into the darkness over the roof tops toward the other side of the huge building.
It wasn't hard for Barbara to gain entry to the old building. The factory used the old standard set of locks so the police could gain easy access using a pass key. Of course it does pay being the commissioner's daughter and it was very easy to make a duplicate of his key for just such emergencies.
The factory area she had entered was a maze of thin walled offices lit by streams of gray, blue light that dimly flowed in from several factory style windows that faced the dull street lights outside.
Slowly she sauntered through the eerie darkness. After several moments, she made her way down what she thought was the main hallway that led to the factory floor.
Suddenly, from two open doorways on each side of her, two dark figures plowed into her hips and legs, wrapping their arms around her bare thighs and calves. As she twisted and struggled, a third figure came up from behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist. At the same time, the other arm came up and clapped a small rectangular pad of cloth over her nose and mouth. Barbara's eyes burst open in panic as the fumes of the anesthetic invaded her defenseless lungs. She screamed and cried but her yells were muffled by the chloroform soaked cotton wad. The three men pulled the gyrating heroine to the ground and held her as the darkness enveloped her and she slipped unconscious. | 3 |
4,080 | Hypno Celeb 60: Shania Twain | Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexuality. If this offends you, leave now. This is fiction. Hypnosis does not work this way. If you feel like trying this, seek help.
Yet another Mesmer Eyes suggestion. Also, Celeste Reviews recently ran a challenge for stories with a funhouse theme. While I don't put myself in the same class as the people who grace Celeste's pages, I'd like to send in this humble entry. All comments and suggestions/scenarios welcomed. Enjoy.
The crowd cheered as the last song filled the large tent. Shania Twain smiled and took a bow. Growing up in Canada, she had never expected to get such a following as a country music star. But the crowd at the benefit fair in this small Texas town loved her as if she was a native-born countrywoman. Well, Shania was never one to argue with success.
She thanked the crowd before walking off stage. Her long brown hair billowed out behind her in curls. She wore a tight black outfit that she had chosen before stepping outside and feeling the Texas heat. She was looking forward to a long shower when she got back to her hotel, but she decided to enjoy the festivities for a while. It was still afternoon and she had time to kill. Besides, the people were friendly and seemed to love her.
It was a nice-sized carnival, a permanent one that operated in the summer and drew visitors from miles around. Shania had agreed to perform in a concert with some other country stars, to help raise money for damage a tornado had done to a nearby town. It was good publicity and Shania truly enjoyed helping people out. The festival was in its second day and the next act was scheduled for that night. Shania told the band to relax and enjoy the rides while she planned to do the same.
She ran into quite a few fans as she walked around. She smiled, signed autographs and posed for a few pictures. She knew the folks meant well, but she was tired and was hoping for some quiet. She caught sight of the Haunted Manor, a large building with appropriately spooky decorations. It was indoors, dark and probably air-conditioned. Shania felt it deserved a walk-through at least.
She brushed at her hair as she walked up, her boots sliding into the fresh dirt. As she walked into the building, she failed to see the smile on the face of the attendant, who hit a button that sent a signal to a room below the building. A smile lit up along with the signal.
It was a shock entering the cool building after being outside all day. Shania paused a moment to let the goosebumps fade before walking forward. It was a darkened hallway ahead and Shania could barely make out anything in front of her. She took a few hesitant steps forward, reaching out with her hands, trying to get a feel for where she was. Just as her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, the floor gave way underneath her and she fell onto a slide. She slid down several feet before landing on a mat inside a dim room.
Shania shook her head and sat up, trying to get her bearings. This wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Frightening people was one thing. Almost breaking their necks was another. Before she could get up and investigate the room, the walls suddenly lit up. The effect was blinding, disorienting Shania. When her vision returned, she could see that the walls were lit with fluorescent lighting. They were in odd patterns, spirals and waves that changed color and moved swiftly and silently. Shania was bombarded by images and colors, not knowing where to look. To add to the effect, a strobe light flashed periodically from the ceiling, bathing the entire room in a wild mess of color and light.
As Shania stared at the glowing walls and the patterns they held, a sound filled the room. A mysterious pounding combined with a lyrical organ penetrated Shania's mind and began its work. The subminimal messages inside the music worked at her mind, lowering her resistance and her inhibitions. Shania felt herself involuntarily relax, her eyes drawn to the spirals and waves on the walls. They seemed to nice to her, so calm and relaxing. She felt like she could just stare at them forever. She'd tear her eyes away from a multi-colored wave only to have her sight sucked in by a spinning, changing spiral. Shania sat on the cot, transfixed as the room slowly but surely brainwashed her.
It could have been five minutes or ten hours later when the flashing lights stopped and the music ceased. "Rise," a voice commanded over the loudspeakers. Helpless to disobey, Shania stood up, swaying slightly as she stared right at the wall in front of her. "Disrobe completely," the voice stated. Shania began to peel off her leather outfit. She was topless, her sizeable breasts falling loose as she stripped off her top. Her sweat-stained panties joined the outfit on the floor and she kicked off her boots.
A door opened and a naked woman entered. She was middle-aged but in good shape, her breasts sagging only slightly. Her long blonde hair fell to her waist and she smiled kindly at the mesmerized singer. If Shania had been conscious, she might have recognized the woman as one of the event's organizers. The woman took a few steps forward and embraced Shania, kissing her hard. Shania responded passionately, her will removed by the room's effects, her only desire to please. The woman pushed her back onto the cot and straddled her.
They kissed for long moments before the older woman broke off and moved down to Shania's chest. She buried her head in between those gorgeous tits, pushing them together with her face in the middle. She tickled one nipple as she massaged the other with her palm. She kneaded them together, loving the feel of them under her hands. Shania moaned as she felt pleasure overtake her. The woman pushed herself up and then turned Shania onto her stomach. The woman slid her hands down the Canadian's back, coming to the smooth ass. She began massaging the buttocks, rubbing her hands around them. Her fingers shot into Shania's clit as she rubbed, quick jabs that elicited groans of pleasure from Shania. The blonde pushed her face to Shania's pussy and began to mouth at it, her tongue sliding in as her lips circled the dark-haired lips. Her hands continued to massage Shania as she ate her out, building Shania's pleasure up more. The tongue dived deep into Shania's pussy, causing her to wither on the couch, her breasts sliding on the smooth mat. Shania came, exploding on the other woman with a cry.
The woman spent several minutes licking away at Shania's ass before lying back and spreading open her legs. Shania needed no instructions. She moved in and buried her face into the woman's lap, her tongue diving into the blonde-haired twat. She lapped at the pussy, her tongue jabbing in and out of the woman's lips. The woman moaned and leaned back, wrapping her legs around Shania's head, holding her in. She worked her pelvis as if willing her juices down. Shania knew her mistress was almost ready and it was her job to make her cum. She did, the juices falling onto Shania's lips. She licked away as the woman's thighs clamped around her head, holding her in until she had licked away every single drop before her, the first of many such chores.
Shania grinned as she headed back to her trailer. It had been a good day, with a lot of fun. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed herself and the carnival was a perfect place for it. Still, she'd want to come back in different weather. It was probably the heat but for some reason, she felt incredibly tired and dry. | 3 |
4,207 | Peeler RP: Manhattan Madness - Part 2 | Jim woke up the next morning around 9 A.M. with a boner and the fragments of a dream. He couldn't remember any details but he was pretty sure Julie was in it. He got out of bed, showered and went out into the living room. No one else appeared to be up, so he went into the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal as Beth had suggested. He went out on the balcony and ate it at the patio table, enjoying the sun. It felt like it was already 70 degrees out. As he sat there, he thought about his sister and her gorgeous lover. Apparently they had planned to put on a charade for the time he was in town; Jim bet that was his sister's idea. Julie didn't impress him as someone that would give a damn if anyone knew. "Penny for your thoughts." Jim looked around and Julie was standing in the open sliding patio door. She was wearing a short silk robe, cinched tight around her waist but the top was showing plenty of her cleavage. Her hair was pinned up and damned if she wasn't wearing lipstick already. Even fresh out of bed, she looked hot. 'Think of something clever to say,' he thought. He had no idea if Julie even went for guys but he instinctively wanted to open a bridge, just in case. No balls, no glory. "Uh..I was just enjoying the view," he said, letting his eyes linger on her chest before looking up at her face. Julie's eyes dropped quickly to her open robe and then she looked back at him. Rather than pull it shut, a slow smile played across her lips. Then it was her turn to run her eyes over him; he'd come out in a pair of shorts but no shirt. If Jim hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it. "Well, you're only going to be here a short time," Julie said, "You should see all you can while you're in town." Again the smile, then she turned and headed into the kitchen. 'I'll be damned! I think she was flirting back.' Now he had a quandary....should he press the issue or let it lie? Julie was his sister's lover and Beth had been very kind to invite him and pay for his ticket. Supposing he was able to get into Julie's pants and then Elizabeth found out? It might cause a fall-out and his sister would have to move out of this great apartment. He decided he couldn't even risk that. 'Keep it in your pants. Besides, you might be reading too much into it.' Elizabeth came out about fifteen minutes later, in a similar robe, her hair up in a towel. She kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted anything else for breakfast. He declined; she had some cereal as well as they sat out on the patio. Julie had gone in to take her shower. "I've got a busy day planned for us," Elizabeth said, finishing her cereal, "We'll get all of the touristy stuff done today.....Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, UN building....then if you're up to it, we can go out tonight. I don't have to work." "Hey, that sounds great....I just need to put on some clothes. When do you want to leave?" "In about 30 minutes....oh...and wear shorts today. It's supposed to be up in the high 80's." Elizabeth loosened the towel around her head and rubbed her head with it a moment. As Jim was getting up, she brought the towel away and ran her hand back through her damp hair as she crossed her legs, causing her robe to ride up on her thighs. He went to his room, hating himself for once again thinking about his sister in less than a sisterly fashion. They arrived back at the apartment around 6 o'clock after a log day of sightseeing with plans to order out some Chinese food. Jim had never eaten Chinese food and Beth was looking forward to expanding his horizons in that area. The light on the answering machine was blinking and Beth hit it as she picked up the phone to call Wu Fong's. The first message was for Julie and Beth wrote down a number. The second message was: "Pepper, it's Vince. I know you got tonight off but I need ya to work. Sorry. Call me when you get in." "Shit!" Beth said and sagged her shoulders. "You got to work?" Jim said from the couch he'd fallen on. "It sounds like it.....I'll try to get out of it if I can." Elizabeth dialed the phone. "I really don't need this...I asked for this night off a long time ago." "Did that guy call you 'Pepper'?" "Yeah..Vince, he's the owner, he likes to use nicknames.....wait, hello Vince. Yeah, it's me. I just got in..........listen, my brother's in town.......I know but.....well, if I come in, you've got to sweeten it for me......" Jim made like he was uninterested, flipping through the magazines on the coffee table again. "That's what I wanted to hear, Vince. I'll be there in an hour. Bye." Beth hung up the phone. "Jim, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to go in. One of the other hostesses can't make it." "No sweat, sis. We can go out another night. Besides, I'm beat anyway." "Yeah, and I'm gonna be on my feet all night," Beth whined. "But I can still order you some food, if you want?" "No, let's wait. I know you wanted to watch me eat it, am I right? You want to watch your dumb brother try those chopsticks!" Beth laughed. "Listen, I'll just eat whatever leftovers you got in the fridge. Don't worry about me. Go ahead and get ready for work." Elizabeth came out ten minutes later in a nice blouse and slacks. She wrote down the address of the apartment in case he wanted to go out. She said she'd tell the doorman he was staying with them and she gave him a spare key. She told him there was a movie theater a few streets over if he got bored. "All right, I'm out of here. See ya later." She left him with a smile. Jim made a sandwich and had a beer and watched the local news. The first couple stories were about crime of course. Then there was a story about Times Square. That was one landmark that he and his sister had not hit, so he watched it with some interest. Apparently the Times Square area was not a great family draw; the surrounding area looked like it was filled with X-rated movie houses and strip clubs. Just the kind of place Jim was looking for! He'd been horny all day watching all the girls go by and thinking about his sister and Julie. He didn't know how far it was by cab but he had money. He'd just go to Times Square and take in some sights. He went in, looked at himself in the mirror and decided he could get away without a shower. He soaped up his armpits and then used some deodorant. He used some hairspray on his hair after getting it just right. Splashed on some Drakkar aftershave but did not shave; the five-o'clock shadow made him look older. Moving back into the bedroom, he picked out his clothes. He didn't want to look too good; since the area was seedy, he decided to dress down. He settled on a pair of faded stonewashed jeans, a old grey dress shirt and his black Nike aeorbic shoes. He checked his wallet for the fake ID he'd brought from Nebraska for just such a situation. It said he was 21 and the picture was pretty close. Going out into the living room, he pocketed the key Beth had given him, took his plate and beer can out to the kitchen. "Let's fire up!" he said, getting psyched for his big adventure. He grabbed another beer and downed it in a couple of long chugs. "All right, now we're going!" Feeling pretty excited, he headed for the front door. And as he did so, it opened and in walked Julie. Last night's dress had been good but the one Julie had on now was even better. Tight like last night's, electric blue and this one had a plunging neckline which showed about five inches of billowing cleavage. "There's my favorite farmboy!' Julie said as she closed the door and leaned against it. She looked like she had a wild hair up her butt. Jim just smiled at her, not sure if she was complimenting him or if she was making fun of him. 'She could insult me all night if she'll just stand there with her shoulders stooped forward, showing me the tops of those titties,' his evil side thought. "Looks like you're ready to take Manhattan. Is Liz getting ready?" "She got called into work."Julie moved from the door and walked past Jim, almost brushing her shoulder with. Jim turned to keep her in his sight as she went to sit on the couch. Her strong legs crossed, giving him a good view of her thighs.
"Yeah, I've got someplace in mind," Jim replied. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Julie. "I'm headed down to Times Square."
He'd all but told her he was going out to see some flesh and her smile never wavered. In fact, her smile got sort of wicked.
"Times Square's all quantity and not much quality," Julie said as she crossed her legs, "I know a real good club if you want to see some top-class pussy."
Julie's frank language stunned Jim. He was sure, thinking about it later, that his jaw must have dropped open like in the cartoons.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend you?" Julie said but he could tell she wasn't really concerned if he was offended. "I thought you were looking for a hot time tonight."
Jim couldn't pass this up. 'Either Julie wants me or she's just toying with me.....either way, the thought of her and me walking into a strip club together sounds real good. The guys in there will go nuts and wonder how the hell I was so lucky.'
"Guilty as charged," Jim said as he dove back in. "In fact, the hotter the better."
Julie thought about that for a second, then said, "You might burn up."
"Lead the way." Jim countered, forgetting all about his resolve of that morning. If Julie wanted to take him to see some pussy, he sure as hell wasn't going to worry about any ramifications. It could be the wildest night of his life.
They headed downstairs and the doorman hailed them a cab. When they were inside it, Julie leaned forward and gave the driver an address and the cab headed out. Julie leaned back and looked at him with that knowing smirk that passed for a smile.
"Tell me, Jim, do you have a girlfriend back home?" she said.
"Yeah...her name's Tina." Jim volunteered, although he was making it up. He'd used to date Tina but they'd broken up over a month ago.
"Did you give her a good fucking before you got on the plane?" Again that smirk. Jim wasn't surprised now by her frank expressions; he found it exciting. If Julie was so casual about the subject, how could she object when he came on to her? And he was going to come on to her!
"Sure did," Jim bragged, "She can never get enough."
"Good for her...and you. Is she faithful to you when you're away?"
"Yeah, I suppose so." Jim lied further.
"And how about you? Were you just going out tonight to look at some pussy or were you going to get some?" Julie continued to try and push his buttons.
Jim thought, 'She's making it so fuckin easy.....too easy. She wants me to come on to her. She's had Beth, now she wants to try me! Go for it!'
"I had hoped to get lucky while I was here," Jim said as he shifted toward her and placed his hand on her bare knee. She didn't even look at it, just kept staring at his face. Jim continued after a second, "Maybe you'd like to take me under your wing while I'm here. We could have ourselves some fun."
"Yeah, we could have some fun," Julie said seductively as she leaned toward him, "but you're not going to get any pussy off me."
Jim felt all the air rush out of his balloon. What kind of a game was Julie playing with him? She'd gotten him all worked up and then pulled the carpet out from under him.
Struggling to understand, Jim blurted, "What? You only go for girls?" That got her. Julie's smirk disappeared for a few seconds. Jim knew she must have put two and two together.
'Way to go, dumbass!' Jim mentally berated himself.
"You naughty boy. Have you been spying on Lizzie and me?" Julie's smile came back, bigger than ever, and Jim knew he was in the clear.
"No, I just had a hunch...you just confirmed it for me. Her bathroom was too empty; I could tell she wasn't using it....then last night, I could hear my sister all the way out in the living room."
"Mmmmm, yes, she can get rather vocal," Julie said with a little pride in her voice. "So, now you know. She wanted to keep it a secret...I thought she was being foolish; she's a big girl and she can sleep with whoever she wants but she didn't think her little brother should know that she swings both ways...like me."
Julie's right hand covered his hand on her knee and stroked it.
"But I thought...." Jim began.
"You weren't listening," Julie cut in. "I said you wouldn't get any pussy off me tonight and I said we'd have fun.....there's all kinds of ways to have fun." Julie's voice was almost purring.
"Fuck, Julie, let's go back to the apartment!" Jim suggested quickly. His dick was getting rock hard in his pants as he imagined Julie sucking him off...that had to be what she was driving at. Julie sucking his dick while he used his hands on her curvy bod...squeezing her tits and, if she'd let him, fingering her pussy.
Julie just laughed. "All good things to those that wait. Besides, I just had an idea....Driver, we want to change our destination. Head uptown." Julie shifted over against Jim and moved his hand up onto one of her heavy tits. Jim pressed his palm against the dress, amazed at the firmness of her breast.
Then Julie's mouth was on his, her lips smashing against his in a hot liplock that made Jim squeeze her silicone titty stronger. Julie wasted no time in pushing her tongue into his mouth; she seemed to enjoy taking the lead.
In the front seat, the cabbie adjusted his mirror to watch.
About fifteen minutes later, the cab pulled up to the curb and Jim and Julie got out. The neighborhood did not look like a commercial district; there was no neon lights or bright signs proclaiming, "Girls! Girls! Girls!" Julie opened her purse but Jim moved in front of her and paid the cabby.
"Thanks, young fella," the old guy said as he tucked the bills into a box on the front seat beside him, "I'd wish you a good night but I can tell you're gonna have a good one."
Jim winked at him and the cab pulled away.
Julie held out her hand, he grabbed it and she led him toward the old building in front of which they stood. They went around a wrought iron railing and down a staircase that began at street level. At the bottom was a door which Julie knocked on. Like a scene from a Prohibition film, someone drew back an eye-level slat.
"Hey, Gus." Julie said to the pair of eyes and the slat swung shut. The door opened and Julie led him in. He found himself being guided down a dim hallway as the doorman shut the door behind them.
"What kind of place is this?" Jim asked.
"It's a strip club, of course. Very hush-hush...I doubt if most of the people in the neighborhood even know it's here."
Julie led him down another flight of stairs and they turned into a large dim lit room. There were several half-moon shaped booths on the far wall, jammed with a collection of well-dressed men, some in suit and ties, most middle aged. The middle of the room was filled with small tables, most of which were occupied as well. The other side of the room was a large bar with a topless blonde bartender that was busy pouring some well drinks for another topless girl that stood in front of the bar; around her waist was a small apron.
"Nice employees!' Jim said as Julie led him to a small empty table in the middle of the room. Jim noticed most of the men openly staring at Julie even though several scantily clad dancers hovered around their tables. Eat your hearts out, fellas!
"The performers work up here and downstairs." Julie said, then seeing his questioning look, continued, "they have a dance room downstairs."
Julie sat down as Jim held a chair out for her and then he pulled his seat over to hers. Julie looped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his chest with the other hand.
Jim was going to kiss her again to make all the other guys more jealous but a waitress came up to their table. She was a cute redhead with hard-looking breasts.
"Hey, Julie....who's your cute friend?" She gave Jim a long look.
"This here is my new dreamboat," Julie said, not offering his name, as she ran her hand down his stomach. Jim shifted as it came perilously close to the hard-on beginning again in his pants. "Let us have a couple of Long Islands."
"All right," the waitress said, "Don't let that stud get away before I get back." She turned and walked to the bar and Jim ogled her lovely ass as it ground away.
"You like her?" Julie whispered in his ear.
"What's not to like?" Jim pulled her close and kissed her again as he ran his right hand down her back and rubbed the top of her ass. "Would you like to sleep with her?" Jim asked as he squeezed her ass.
"Sheryl?....sure, she's strictly hetero....but I'm working on her." Jim couldn't tell if Julie was being serious or not. He hoped at least that she was being faithful to his sister...but maybe that was too much to ask for a knockdead bi-sexual in New York.
"Ah, there he is." Julie said as she stood up. Jim followed her eyes and saw that a man had appeared behind the bar and was talking to the blonde bartendress. "Excuse me for a minute, I've got to talk to this guy."
Julie stood up and walked over to the bar. Jim saw a lot of eyes following the tall brunette in her clinging dress. Sheryl passed her, heading back to their table with their drinks. Jim dug out his billfold.
"Here ya go, Sugar." Sheryl was all charm as she leaned close to him to put Julie's drink in front of her chair. Jim fished a twenty out of his billfold and held it out to the waitress as she straightened up.
"How much are the drinks?" he asked her, wondering how much of a bite the drinks were going to take out of the twenty.
"Sugar, the drinks are always free here," the redhead explained as took the bill from his hand.With a smile, she set her tray down on the table and tucked the bill in the string of her apron. "But twenty will get you this."
With that, she swung her leg over his and lowered herself on his lap as her hands went around his neck. Jim found his face close to Sheryl's magnificent tits as she began to grind herself against him.
"Wow!" Jim gasped as Sheryl's crotch rubbed on his manhood.
"Big boy, if Julie weren't here, I'd take you downstairs and we'd have ourselves a good ole time," Sheryl said it like she meant it, but Jim knew that most strippers were interested in one thing - money. She might take him downstairs, but it wouldn't be for a twenty.
"Aaaahh, Sheryl, that feels great..." he said, looking over to the bar as his hands lightly played up the outside of Sheryl's flexing thighs. He saw Julie talking to the guy behind the bar. The man said something to Julie, and she looked at her watch...'mmmm...oh, man!'
"Oh yeah, stud, I can feel something nice and hard down here," Sheryl said as she gave her hips a hard thrust. Jim looked up at her face; it simmered with $20 of desire. Sheryl brought her lips close to his, teasing him, promising untold delights. Then she went to her sales pitch. "Baby, I want to get you off....$100....we'll go downstairs, whattaya say?"
"Believe me, I'd like to, Sheryl," Jim said. "But I'm saving myself for my date, if you know what I mean."
"I bet you could satisfy us both but..." Sheryl predicted as she dismounted from his lap "...remember the offer."
Julie returned then, smirking knowingly as she stood by Sheryl. "Looks like Sheryl was being very nice to you," she said as she used her right hand to slowly pull Sheryl's hair back over her shoulder. Sheryl looked sideways at Julie as her hand continued down her back, slowly, then moved onto the waitress' bottom. With a chuckle, Sheryl spun away.
"Aren't you ever going to give it up?" Sheryl said cutely as she picked up her tray.
"Sheryl, one of these days I'll catch you in a weak moment," Julie predicted as she sat back down, "and then I'll ruin you for men forever." Sheryl blew her a kiss and headed off toward another table.
"You weren't kidding about Sheryl; you'd like to get her into bed wouldn't you?" Jim said.
"Mmmmm, yeah!....and then after I was through with her...and she was really juicy....I'd let you fuck her while I watched!" Julie's eyes flashed at him, and he knew she wasn't kidding. She looked again at her watch. "Grab your drink. It's time to head downstairs."
Downstairs turned out to be another large, dimly lit room that looked like any other strip club. More booths and tables filled with wealthy-looking clientele, plenty of topless waitresses, and a small stage with runways and a couple of brass poles. A small Asian woman was dancing on the stage in a spotlight when they came down.
Julie asked the floor seater for a booth in the back of the room; Jim would have liked to sit closer to the stage, but he soon found out why Julie wanted a booth. After they sat down, Julie flipped a switch on the wall behind them, and the light over their booth went out, leaving them with some privacy.
"You having a good time yet?" she asked facetiously.
"Fuck, yes....Here, feel for yourself," he said as he moved her hand to the bulge in his pants. He liked the throaty chuckle of surprise she gave as her palm stroked him through his jeans.
"Whoa, it feels like Lizzie's little brother is hung." Julie teased. "We're only going to stay for about another fifteen minutes...I want to get you home. You and I are going to have a wild time before your sister gets back."
"Why wait? Let's go now." Jim again suggested. He'd been teased enough tonight. He wanted to get Julie back to the apartment, rip her dress off, and do whatever she'd let him do.
"Wait just a few more minutes...there's a really hot dancer coming out.... after she's through, we'll split." Julie took her hand away from his crotch and drank her drink as she watched the Asian girl simulate making love to one of the poles on the stage.
Jim did the same, thinking about what a wild trip it was turning into. His sister could have had a dour, frumpy roommate, but instead, she was living with a bisexual bombshell that was going to do the wild thing with him, maybe for the rest of his stay.
Apparently, Julie liked cock...and he knew he had been doled out a little more dick than most guys. He came in at just over 8 inches - a hefty, full 8 inches. He was thinking about Julie's full lips wrapping around his wanger as the Asian girl slipped behind the curtains and a fresh song started up.
A deep baritone voice then announced over the club sound system, "And now for your enjoyment, the delectable Pepper!"
Jim jerked his head back to the stage as his sister, dressed in a skimpy orange thong bikini, slid from behind the curtain and did a slow twirl around one of the poles. | 4 |
4,627 | "Surprise!" | Ever since I was old enough, one of my favorite hobbies has been working on automobiles. I'm certainly no expert in the field, but I do know my way around basic vehicle repair and upgrades. As a result, I do not have to pay an auto shop when my Jeep needs a tune-up. I simply do it myself. Of course, I have to buy the necessary parts for a tune-up. But I do the actual repair/upgrade work myself. As a result, I save myself a lot of money.
This was the case on a recent Saturday afternoon. After putting it off for a month or so, I decided to buckle down and give my Jeep a much-needed tune-up. It was about time.
After buying all the necessary parts at a nearby store, I drove home and then started working on the Jeep. In the garage below the apartment complex where we live, I spent over an hour working on the Jeep.
I was fairly "tuned into" the repair work - I wasn't really thinking about anything else. Only a few things in the world could have broken my concentration.
Of course, one of them happened.
"Aren't you ever gonna finish with that Jeep?" came a familiar female voice from outside the garage.
I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, and peered around the raised hood of the Jeep. There she was. Lisa, my fiancee - she stood near the garage door, her arms folded and weight shifted to one foot. Her long blonde hair tied up in a pony-tail, Lisa was wearing a tight pair of faded jeans and a green sweater. The essence of beauty, to me...
"I should be finished soon," was my reply. "Why?"
Lisa offered an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, along with a curious expression. "Oh, I don't know." She slowly stepped into the garage, toward me. "I'm feeling kind of... fluttery, this afternoon."
"Fluttery?" I inquired, my eyebrows raising.
She flashed a charming smile my way and gently clasped her hands together. "Yeah, fluttery. Happy. Carefree. Lighthearted. Fluttery, you know?"
I held back a laugh and replied, "I guess."
Lisa giggled while stepping closer toward me. "It's just you're down here, working on the Jeep..." She stopped walking, then shrugged her shoulders. "You're not up in the apartment... with me."
What was she up to? That thought immediately popped into my mind. "Should I be with you?" was my response.
Again, Lisa shrugged her shoulders, but this time in a simple manner. It was accompanied by an innocent expression upon her face. "I wish you were."
She was playing a game with me. An odd game, but a game nonetheless. What did Lisa want? "I have to finish fixing up the Jeep before I do anything, sweetheart."
Another smile came to her face. "When you're ready, I have a surprise waiting upstairs for you."
My eyebrows shot up again. "A surprise?"
"Yes, a surprise," she smiled, before turning and slowly walking away. Lisa glanced back over her shoulder at me and coyly added, "The sooner you go upstairs, the sooner you get your surprise." She giggled. "It's that simple."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, raising my voice slightly as she disappeared around the corner. "Surprise?"
"Come upstairs and find out!" she called back.
I looked into the engine of the Jeep and could not help but to laugh to myself. Lisa was up to something. She knew that by telling me about her "surprise", my curiosity would not allow me to finish working on the Jeep. I HAD to know why she was acting so peculiar.
Thus, I put all the tools and equipment down, then went over to the workbench and grabbed a bar of soap. Having to wash up before going back into the apartment, I went out to the water faucet and gave my hands and arms a complete and thorough scrubbing. They weren't that greasy in the first place, so it didn't take me long to wash up. I put the bar of soap back in the garage, then closed the door and started heading up the steps to the main entrance of our apartment.
For an instant, I caught Lisa peeking out between the blinds of the living room window. Upon seeing me, she disappeared. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head while walking across the patio to the front door. My beloved fiancee was acting VERY peculiar.
Once inside the apartment, I glanced around but did not see Lisa anywhere. She must have ran off into the bedroom or laundry room, I said to myself. "Lisa?" I called out, giving the immediate surroundings one more quick glance. "What in the world you up to, woman?"
I noticed a slender hand and arm being extended from the bedroom, which was directly in front of me... about 25 feet away. A finger slowly rose from that hand, and motioned for me to come closer.
A smile came to my face. I knew what she wanted now. Lisa wanted to tear me away from my Jeep so she could have sex with me. What else could it be? I couldn't think of anything else. After all, she was motioning for me FROM the bedroom.
Sexy, devious minds think alike, you know.
That's how I came up with what she was doing. :>
As I started walking toward the bedroom, Lisa's arm drew back behind the doorway. I shook my head, smiling. Not only does my fiancee like to play games with me... but she can be very creative in doing so, as well.
"Surprise!" she exclaimed, jumping at me as I entered the bedroom. Her arms encircling my body, Lisa moved her mouth to mine and offered a VERY pleasurable kiss. I smiled against the kiss, then slid my tongue between her lips and started wiggling it around. I tilted my face over her, which merely intensified our shared kiss.
"Can't you wait, woman?" I jokingly scorned her, once our lips moved apart. "I would have been finished soon!"
Lisa grinned while softly tracing my neck and shoulder area with her fingertip. "I was feeling a bit lonely," she said, now offering a fake pout. Now, I was completely under her spell. Lisa even looks sexy when she gives that little pout of hers. It drives me CRAZY! "What's a girl to do?"
"I oughta give you a spanking, for tearing me away from the garage," I mused. "You definitely deserve one!"
Lisa laughed and said, "What? You rather work on that Jeep? Or would you rather work on ME?"
I grinned and jokingly replied, "The Jeep."
"OHHHH!" Lisa giggled, playfully slapping my shoulder. "Let's see if you still feel that way after I get finished with you. Yeah..."
As if she had been challenged, Lisa pressed her mouth to mine and offered a powerful kiss. Hard and deep from the very beginning, the kiss just became stronger and stronger as the seconds went by. Soon, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and brought her body against mine. I revelled in the feel of her full breasts pressing against my frontside.
With one hand, I cupped and rubbed the side of her right breast through the green sweater she wore. In response, Lisa snaked her right hand between us, then reached down and briskly rubbed away at the growing erection in my jeans. I sighed at the sexual friction created, then walked her over to the bed. I could really do this with her forever...
However, Lisa broke the kiss and then pushed me down until I was seated upon the edge of the bed. Leaning over, Lisa gave my a lips a quick kiss and then she dropped down to her knees. Leaning close to me now, she rubbed my chest with both hands and then splayed several kisses on my neck.
I smiled, cradling her head in my hands and offering it a gentle massage. I love Lisa so much. I really do.
Lisa grinned with lust as she unlooped my belt and took it off. She undid my jeans, then reached beneath my briefs and pulled my semi-hard erection out. I sighed in response as she began to give my shaft a good pumping with her hand.
With her other hand, Lisa managed to pull both my jeans and briefs down. I kicked off my shoes, then assisted her in getting rid of my jeans and briefs as well.Now, except for a t-shirt and a pair of socks, I was completely nude.
On her knees, Lisa settled between my legs and started pumping away on my cock with both of her hands. I LOVE her hands. They are beautiful; soft and gentle, and warm. You could really call me a "hands man". I truly enjoy it when my fiancee touches me with her hands.
Knowing this, Lisa gave my shaft a good rub-down with her hands. She stroked its full length up-and-down, up-and-down - in repeated fashion. Her fingertips rubbed against my flesh, causing wild sparks of sexual electricity to shoot throughout my entire body.
Still pumping away, Lisa looked up at me when I placed a hand on her head. We exchanged knowing smiles, then she began to stroke and pump my fully-erect shaft faster than before. I threw my head back and sighed in response, which caused her to giggle and squeal in delight.
"Naughty little tease," I smiled at her.
"Oh?" she smirked. "Tease, eh?"
I nodded my head and grinned. "Yeah, you're a tease."
"Can't argue," she squealed, just before opening her mouth and sliding the very tip of my cock inside.
I moaned in pure delight as Lisa continued to stroke my shaft's length with both hands, while her mouth and tongue worked on its tip. I could feel her tongue as it flickered over and across my cockhead; the sensations sent heat waves shooting throughout my body.
Obviously a bit hungry, Lisa detracted both hands from my shaft, then moved one to my testicles and twirled their gentle flesh between her fingers. Now with my cock free of her hands, she could take more of it into her hungry mouth.
Lisa seized the opportunity, completely engulfing my member within her mouth. She had swallowed me whole; her lips and nose were pressing hard against my pubic hair. There was not even a tiny fraction of my cock showing. Its entire length was embedded in her mouth and throat...
Lisa kept it that way for several seconds. I could feel her tongue twirl and swirl around it every now and then. I shivered each time she exhaled a breath through her nose... I felt the cool breeze of outgoing air.
I nearly jumped when she offered my testicles a playful pinch - between two of her fingertips. Even though her mouth was completely full, Lisa still managed a lustful, carnal laugh in response. She was teasing me!
Next, my 20-year-old fiancee made a gagging noise as she started to bob her head up-and-down over my full erection. Lisa applied a good amount of suction while grasping the base of my cock with her right hand, as her left continued to knead and caress my testicles.
Lisa simply loves to give blowjobs to me. There is no doubt about that. At the same time, there is no doubt, at least in my mind, that no woman in the world is better when it comes to fellatio. In my experiences, no woman has even come close to her in this area.
Luxuariating in the sexual heat, I closed my eyes and sighed. Soon, I re-opened them and looked down, so I could watch Lisa's blonde head as bobbed up-and-down over my cock. In the process, I undid the pink bow which had held her hair up in a pony-tail. Thus, her long blonde tresses fell down her slender neck and back... truly a beautiful sight.
Lisa looks much better during sex with her hair free and flowing, instead of up in a pony-tail. She looks more "girlish" with a pony-tail - I like the "womanly" look more.
I threw my head back and sighed again, now feeling a powerful orgasm brewing within my body. Another laugh came from Lisa... she knew EXACTLY what was happening to me.
"Tease!" I exclaimed, then she giggled even louder.
Nonetheless, Lisa continued to bob her head up-and-down over my pulsating member... now, at warp speed. I couldn't take much more of this sweet torture...
"CUMMING!" I screamed, thrusting my hips up a good six inches off the edge of the bed.
Lisa's lips clamped themseleves tightly around my cock, and she did not lose her grip when my hips jolted upwards. I felt the eruption, then listened as Lisa made another gagging noise. Soon, she started to swallow the buckets of sperm which I had shot into her mouth. I moaned in pure lust as one of her hands pumped the base of my shaft, while the other played with my testicles. To her credit, Lisa was able to swallow the entire helping of sperm down her throat. Of course, that is usually the case. She loves it so much, that one of my sexual nicknames for her is "Sperm Bank".
A short time later, I was seated upon the middle of the bed, while Lisa was in my lap. Down to her white bra and matching G-string, she had her arms around me as both of us shared a very intense and gratifying kiss.
Completely nude now, I slid my hands to her bottom and squeezed it roughly. Lisa squealed in response, and then offered a stronger kiss. I returned her increased passion with some of my own. This is definitely what I enjoy.
Soon, I undid the clasp which held her bra together in back. She slid its straps from her shoulders, then I pulled the bra away from her body and tossed it onto the floor. Eventually, I broke the kiss as well, and nibbled away on her neck and shoulders. She really loves it when I do that. The left side of her neck is VERY sensitive - and I'm always sure to pay 'special' attention to it.
Lisa wiggled herself out of my lap and then reclined all the way back, until she was laying down upon on the mattress. She spread her thighs and brought her knees into the air, then leaned up slipped her white G-string down and off. Smiling, she lay back down on the bed and looked up at me.
With her legs widespread like that, it was obvious to me what Lisa wanted.
I moved between her outstretched thighs and gave her intoxicating, damp slit a long lash with my tongue. Lisa gasped at the contact, then reached down and grasped my left hand with her right. Near her hip, she squeezed my hand tightly as I began feasting away upon her womanhood.
Lisa let out a throaty groan as she hooked one of her legs around my shoulder and upper back. With my free hand, I teased and tickled the insides of her thighs, as my tongue feasted away on the several delicious recesses of her slit.
Licking and slurping away at the gooey crevice, I moved a finger to her slit and began diddling it. Lisa's body tensed in response, then she let out a wild moan. It makes me feel very good to know that I am bringing her pleasure like this. That is my main goal in making love to Lisa.
I kissed her gentle opening while her body started to rumble and vibrate upon the mattress. Soon, I plunged my tongue deep within her, and wiggled it around in mad, erotic circles. Lisa continued to moan in pure lust, while saying several words and phrases of love. But then, suddenly...
"TAKE ME!"
I originally planned to bring her to orgasm with my tongue. But, I could not ignore such a request. It was time to give her what she wanted. After all, she has given me MORE than I could ever ask for in life...
I rose up to my knees between her outstretched thighs and fisted my hard cock, before guiding it between the tight confines of her slit. Lisa's eyes closed and her expression became tense as she let out a long sigh. I hooked both of her legs with my arms and then mounted her...
Lisa arched her neck and back as I started to thrust my hard shaft in-and-out of her velvety slit. Soon, I caught a steady rhythm, but then paused for a short second. Lisa looked up at me in confusion, then I leaned down and offered her mouth a deep kiss. Just as quickly, I began hammering myself in-and-out of her again.
Beneath me, Lisa's eyes were glued upon mine as I placed a hand upon her upturned bottom. We were cramped into a very tight position - especially her - but it did not matter. We were too glazed-over with passion to care.
Lisa let out a thunderous, earth-shaking scream and then proceeded with a series of short yelps and moans as I continued with the thick, non-stop thrusting motion. After increasing the speed of the rhythm, I was pounding her at a furious, unrelenting pace. Lisa's skin was beet red, and her face was tightened, her eyes open and full.
As our hips slammed together with each and every downward thrust, a loud SMACK could continually be heard throughout the bedroom. I really love that sound.
No matter how much I tried, I could not contain the climax which was quickly building itself within me. I wanted to hammer Lisa a bit longer, but couldn't.
A scream ripped from my throat as my cock exploded within Lisa's heavenly slit. At the very same time, Lisa experienced an orgasm of her own. Clutching and embracing one another, my fiancee and I rumbled together in mutual climax. Both of us exchanged several words of love, as well as quick, wet kisses.
When our mutual spasms subsided, we quieted down but still moaned together in unison. I kissed Lisa's neck and hugged her fiercely - NEVER wanting to let her go.
After a minute or two of rest, I decided to break the silence. "I love you, sweetheart," were my soft words.
"Hmmmm..." Lisa moaned. "Hmmmm... I love you, too."
We laid together, clutching and embracing one another like that, for at least 30 minutes. This is my Heaven.
And later, I FINALLY finished that tune-up on the Jeep.
:>
[The End] | 4 |
4,807 | "Late Curiosity" ( MF nc) | "Are you comfortable, Lucy?"
"Huh! That's not one of your brighter questions, Tiger."
He went around to each of her manacles and clamping the limb with one hand, made sure that the hasp was loose enough to rotate on her skin. When he was satisfied, he removed her mask and stood for a moment looking down at her.
"Felt any pins and needles?"
"Pins and -- Oh."
"Have you?"
"What if I did? Would you set me free?"
"I'll rub it out if you tell me where you feel it."
"Will you? Why so solicitous of a sudden, Tiger?"
"For this step I want to minimize distractions."
"That sounds ominous."
He shook his head. "I won't harm you, Lucy."
"Won't you? You were less sure of it a minute ago."
"I said that it might <hurt> you, though I didn't think so. There's a difference."
"Between <hurt> and <harm>? Huh! And you've lost your erection. That worries me even more."
"It'll come back." He grinned. "For this one I'm using my other sex organ."
"Your <what>?"
His grin became a chuckle. "You have a talent for sounding incredulous. Didn't you hear the joke about the old man whose doctor said, 'Show me your sex organ,' and he stuck out his tongue?"
"You propose to hurt me with your <tongue>?"
"A real talent, Lucy! But I'll not <harm> you!"
"Now <I> am curious! Do you have a very long one?"
He laughed. "Long enough. It's not the length; it's the speed."
She studied him, saying at last, "If I sound incredulous it's because what you say is preposterous."
"Not preposterous at all, as you're about to find out. I told you: this is the most unmentionable act of all."
He let himself down prone, stretched out before her, arms over her thighs, face in the vulva, and applied his tongue slowly and gently at first.
After a moment she snorted. "Well, that's certainly not 'unmentionable.' It even has it's own word: <cunnilinctus>. You're obviously educated, Tiger. I'm amazed you don't know it!"
But his response was only to continue his ministrations, very gradually firming the tongue. Her hips twitched. His tongue moved faster.
"Tiger," she said softly, "I'll admit you wouldn't have to chain me down for <this>!"
Soon her hips began to rotate. At that sign his speed increased. She began to shudder when the firm tip stroked her, lifting the clitoris as fast as he could move it.
Grunts timed with his strokes became a ragged moan. Her hips rotated with abandonment as the crisis approached. Suddenly her whole torso arched powerfully, as with an electrical shock. He clamped her buttocks beneath him, tongue continuing to work the sensitive flesh mercilessly. Now she screamed, a mindless cry of utter agony, wavering on and on.
Suddenly it choked off and she fell still save for heaving breast. His tongue continued for a few seconds but elicited no further reaction. He raised up over her, dripping saliva on her belly. She lay slack, head thrown back, eyes open, staring blindly at the pipe-riddled ceiling, panting for breath.
He took the time to wipe his chin with another paper towel and don a condom before stretching himself upon her in the usual position. She responded to his thrusts almost immediately, moaning inarticulately, sphincters clipping him, soon fetching his second orgasm.
Tiredly he backed away and got to his feet. She was breathing deeply with mouth open, eyes closed, face again turned away. He wiped both bodies with paper towels, carefully patting her pubes, then set about cleaning up the several articles scattered around her. Everything, even the soiled paper towels, went back into the briefcase. He used a last paper towel to polish the empty soda cans, leaving them among the shreds of her clothing. Finally he took down his own clothing and began to dress. He saw that she was watching him.
"How do you feel, my dear?"
"I don't know," she said after a while, adding, "That was cruel, Tiger."
"Was it?"
"You know it was. It would kill someone with a bad heart."
"I made sure you were healthy, Lucy."
"What was so unmentionable about it?"
"The continuation."
"The what? Do you mean to say you <knew> how it would feel?"
"Up to a point. Every woman I ever licked before pushed me away hard. They've all said it's unbearable after they start to come. I wondered <how> unbearable!" He chuckled slightly. "And now I've learned only a little more than I knew before. <You're> the one who's just been educated! Aren't you lucky! I don't suppose you'll tell me how it felt."
"It was terrible. I thought I'd die."
"Did you pass out?"
"I ... don't know."
She said no more until he was knotting his tie, when she asked, "Are you going to just leave me here?"
"As I told you: with a key in reach. And that garment bag. And the cooler. It's untraceable and has no fingerprints. There's one can left if you're thirsty."
He stood by her right hand. "Move your hand down as far as you can, Lucy."
"Down?"
"Toward your foot... Okay, move it back up. Thank you."
He stooped and placed a white metal key where her fingers had rested, then rotated the manacle around that wrist until the keyhole was aligned with her palm. "After I leave take up the key between finger and thumb, put it in the hole and twist it clockwise. I have verified that it's easy to do -- that is, if you're right-handed. You are, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"All right." He stepped over her and took the briefcase. "One last thing, for what it's worth. My grandfather was right. He said, 'A stiff prick has no conscience.' But I find that a soft one does. I regret mistreating you, Mrs. Grainger, and hope that you suffer no further unpleasantness. Would money make you feel better about it?"
He took a roll of bills from his coat pocket and laid it on the canvas between her thighs.
She warned, "Money won't square this!"
"I suppose not. Anyway the police will want to see if they can trace it. Well, good-by, Mrs. Grainger. May we never meet again."
"T-tiger, what if I drop the key?"
He looked away. "Don't drop it."
Her eyes, soft with worry, hardened as he deliberately turned his back.
He clambered onto the box, opened the circular door and exited quickly, pushing the door nearly shut behind him. The transformer hum was loud in the deserted room. He reopened the briefcase long enough to stash the hosiery removed from his head, then ruffled his short hair before easing the steel door open and stepping out into the basement corridor.
He sat over the reference book, turning a page occasionally, glancing up at every motion on the street observed through the large bay window across the room. He studied his wristwatch, comparing it once again to the clock on the opposite wall, his worry growing. Where were the police? Where was Lucy?
He sat in the public library across the corner from Lucy's building, enjoying a clear view of both its entrances. In the hour and a half since his arrival at this seat Lucy had not appeared on the street. Nothing unusual had appeared at all. Only two people had gone into the building, both women. Three men had come out. That, too, was hardly unusual. This was an office building, not a department store. The firms that leased its space were the eight-to-five type, among them no doctor and no lawyer.
He considered possibilities. Had Lucy and the cops set a trap in case he came back -- despite his assurance of being in another city tonight? By strolling to the window he could see a block in either direction down both streets. As far as he could tell all the parked cars were empty of occupants.
Or had Lucy simply gone upstairs to work, explaining that Aunt Agatha's call was a false alarm? After all, he hadn't really harmed her. Yes, he'd treated her tits a bit roughly and her anus might be sore, though he'd been careful with speculum and penis and heard no complaint while using either. But his roll of bills had totaled $500. If she'd told the truth about her finances, she might find it preferable to shut up and keep it. Also, she might wish to avoid the pity and notoriety that a complaint would release, though recalling their conversation, he doubted that one.
Or had she simply dropped the key?
That was the possibility that worried him. He had laid the key on the sloping canvas. She would be nervous, over eager perhaps.Suppose in reaching for it, her fingers had clumsily knocked it away. She could die of thirst in there before anyone chanced to come. The forged note was too clever. It could be days, weeks, before anyone wondered enough to check on her.
He straightened up, knowing full well that he could never put her fate from his mind with that possibility outstanding. He had to learn at least if she was free. He returned the book to the reference shelf and went to the pay phone in the hall outside. After four rings a strange female voice answered, "Bookman Supplies."
"Could I speak to Mrs. Grainger, please?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Mrs. Grainger was called out of town suddenly. Can I take a message for her?"
"No, thanks. I'll try tomorrow."
He hung up and stood for a moment, deciding how to proceed. A public rest room was just down the hall. It was a three-staller, he saw, standing in the door, and deserted at the moment. Quickly he stripped off his necktie, jacket and white shirt, burying both in the large garbage barrel halfway down the mass of soggy towels, along with the towels he and Lucy had soiled. Out came the spare shirt he'd meant to wear on the plane, dark plaid, totally unlike his tan suit jacket.
He looked around. The rest room showed no evidence of his visit. He took up the briefcase and walked out.
<11:48>
He met several people, some vaguely familiar, in the building lobby. It was nearing lunch time, of course. He'd already noticed that maybe half the building descended to the surrounding restaurants to eat. That would serve him when he came back out, he thought; he could blend with the crowd.
He saw no police, none in uniform, at least. He eschewed the elevator and descended the stairway, waiting until the hall was empty before opening the door. Above him on the stairs he heard laughter and footsteps: people descending from the mezzanine. Should've taken the elevator! He cringed away from the rail and nearly ran down the two flights to the door with the large green B. He pulled it open far enough and slipped inside, letting it sigh closed behind him. The corridor was empty.
He paused to take a relieved breath and listened carefully at the steel door. Dimly he heard the transformer humming behind it. Finally he opened it just enough to put in his head. He saw no one. The furnace door was still slightly open, just as he had left it. The edge of it glowed from the light within.
He entered the room fully and stood inside the closed door, listening, ready to spring back through it. The transformer hum was loud enough to grate upon his nerves. An idea struck him. He was just an employee of ... the shipping firm on the third floor ... ah, Northern Freight ... sent to the basement for a box of computer paper. A new employee. Now where would that paper be stored?
Silently he lowered the briefcase to the floor beside the door and slipped down one narrow space between stacked boxes. He turned at the back wall and came forward on another aisle. Two or three such passes convinced him that no police had staked out the store room.
He took a deep breath, opened the briefcase long enough to extract the disguising hosiery leg and pull it over his head. He marched to the furnace door, flung it open and peered inside, confirming what he now fully expected. Lucy Grainger lay naked on the canvas, still chained as he had left her. And the white metal key glistened below her, well out of reach of chained hand or foot. Though he had greased the furnace door to open silently, he knew that she heard a change in the transformer sound. Her head came around and her eyes locked with his.
He bent onto the box and stepped down to the canvas. "Lucy, Lucy, are you truly that clumsy?"
Her body lay smoothly rounded, nipples dark on the white skin gleaming with the slightest perspiration. He sighed. "You look good, Lucy. If I didn't have a plane to catch ..."
She licked dry lips. "I wondered if you'd come back."
Briefly he looked around. The money lay where he'd thrown it, the drink cans among her ripped clothing. Everything was the same. He stepped over her leg, stooped for the key. "All right. I'll unlock your right hand, but don't try anything. I'd hate to hurt you after all --" As he spoke he knelt, hands reaching for the manacle. He saw that there was something wrong with it, some strangeness in the geometry of hasp and ratchet.
"What--" he started to interrupt himself. Her hand twisted and fast as a striking snake she slapped his outstretched wrist, snapping the manacle, whose wide open hasp had only been laid over her arm, tightly upon him. In the same motion, before he could overcome his surprise, she rolled away from him and bounced to her feet. He realized belatedly that she was free as a bird. She had obviously undone all four manacles!
"What the hell --" He knew that his mouth was hanging open. He started to rise after her but was brought up very short by the chain on his wrist -- his right wrist, too. But he still had the key!
He looked at her, expecting her to bolt through the furnace door. She only stood back, well out of reach, nakedly grinning at him. The little fool! He still had a chance. He forced the key into the manacle lock and twisted -- but it wouldn't turn! Getting a better grip, he tried again and again, varying the angle and depth of penetration, twisting so hard he bruised fingers and thumb and bent the key. All to no avail.
She got up on the box, reached through the opening and closed the circular door that he had left open. She turned around, sat on the edge of the box and stared at him impishly from under the same hat, its lace now crushed beyond redemption.
"What have you done to the key, Lucy?"
She grinned. "What was it you said about fate delivering me to you? You may be right, Tiger. Fate is involved here. I knew it soon as you threw down that key. It looks identical to the one that opens my strongbox. But it's not identical, is it?"
He regarded the key closely. "This is the wrong key?"
"You just proved it, didn't you? The other consideration was my judgment of your character. You never told me a lie, Tiger, at least not about what you meant to do. That and the little speech just before you left suggested that you might actually have a conscience. Then, when I warned I might drop the key, you looked away! I decided, what the hell, it wouldn't cost much to find out. I could've gone to the cops -- still can, you'll notice -- but you were probably also truthful in your claim they'd never catch you. I'm sure you've taken many precautions. I was willing to wait all afternoon, but I did get thirsty. I'll tell you, Tiger, if you'd been five minutes later you'd've caught me going after that last pop can."
He jerked on the chain hard enough to pain his wrist, but he knew as no other how well the chain was anchored into the firebrick. Still on all fours, he turned back to her.
"Now what?"
"Now you put on the other three, starting with your ankles."
"What? You're crazy, Lucy, if you think I'll do that. I'll make a deal with you. Get dressed, throw me the right key, and make a run for it. I promise to leave you alone."
She chuckled. "I don't believe you quite understand the situation, Tiger. I am a woman who's been most shamefully raped and abused. True, you've left little evidence aside from a few bruises, but--" she waved about her "--this could hardly be for anything else. If I run upstairs and start screaming, you'll think the whole world has fallen on you."
He thought about it. "You said 'if.'"
"That's right. It's up to you, Tiger."
"If I put on the other manacles, you won't run to the cops?"
"That's the deal."
"How do I know you won't?"
"In fact you don't, Tiger. But I'll tell you what you told me: I always keep my word. And if you don't put those manacles on now, I'm going to lower the boom."
"But I'll miss my plane!"
"You'll miss that either way."
She watched as he resignedly squeezed the manacles closed over his ankles. He lay on his back and stretched out his left arm. "I can hardly do this one alone."
"Yes, you can, Tiger. I know. I've practiced it. Open it all the way and lay your wrist on it." She squatted near his arm. Gathering his muscles, he made one attempt to grab her knee but his hand was inches short. She shook her head. "None of that, Tiger. Put your arm in there as I said."
With ill grace he obeyed her. "Now bend your hand over the moving part and force it to close."
She leaned over him watchfully. Suddenly her hand lashed out and snapped shut the slack that he had carefully left in the hasp. She raised up on her knees, grinning in satisfaction, then went to his ankles. Timing his motion he tried to snatch the foot out of the one left purposefully loose, meaning to trip her against him, but it wouldn't pass the heel of his shoe. In a moment she had caught the ankle and forced the manacle fully closed. Again she shook her head. "Did you think you could hold me with your foot, Tiger?"
She stepped over him, reached down and pulled the hosiery from his head. He saw recognition in her eyes. "I've seen you before. You've been following me around, haven't you?"
When he didn't answer, she smirked, "In some ways I know you better than I know anyone else!"
She turned away from him and opened the garment bag. "I was afraid to check this out earlier. What've you got for me? Hmm. Interesting."
He watched her don underwear, slip and dress. "It seems to fit fairly well," she admitted, "but it's not me! It doesn't match my shoes, either, not to speak of my hat. Damn it, Tiger, why didn't you bring a mirror? Where's your briefcase?When he remained silent she shook her head. "Cat got your tongue, Tiger?"
Finally she took up the roll of bills and stuffed it into her purse without bothering to count it. She stood over him contemplatively, then knelt beside him and fumbled at his wallet. He heaved his hips against her legs.
"Hold still!" she commanded crossly. In a moment she succeeded in removing the wallet, stood and placed it in her purse.
"I'm going to get us some lunch. What'll you have, Tiger?"
"Damn you! Give that back."
She ignored his protest. "My stomach says it's lunch time and your wristwatch agrees. Want anything?"
"Cheeseburger and fries," he gritted.
"I'll see what I can do. Now don't go away, please."
She grinned and passed up through the door. He saw the handle rotate behind her. But she was back immediately, bearing his briefcase.
"Look what I found, Tiger! It's yours, isn't it?"
Without waiting for his answer she popped the snaps and rummaged inside. "It's yours, all right. Here are those surgical shears. We'll have fun yet, Tiger."
She laughed at his wince. "And you <do> have a mirror! Good for you, Tiger." She set the small camp mirror on the box and twisted this way and that before it, removing the remains of the hat and fluffing her hair.
"At least you hardly bothered my lipstick," she observed, smiling at him. "Remember, now, stay put!"
She took a paper from his briefcase before closing the lid. He recognized his air ticket folder.
"That's useless to you," he complained.
"You think so? Well, <you> don't need it any longer!"
She disappeared again. This time he heard the change in the transformer hum that meant she had opened the steel door. He strained against his bonds, hoping in vain for some evidence of loosening in the brick, but succeeded only in reaffirming the excellence of his anchors. Soon he gave it up and lay panting, wondering what his fateful god had in store for him now.
<14:22>
"Well, it's about time!" he declared when he saw that it was Lucy Grainger following the armload of bags through the circular door.
"Whew!" she breathed in relief, jumping down from the box on which she left her shopping bags. "Did you miss me, Tiger?"
"I didn't think you were coming back."
"And that worried you, did it? Oh, no, Tiger, I'll not be meaner than you. Here." She took a smaller bag from a larger one and approached but stopped just short of him. She contemplated his bonds. "Have you found a way to surprise me, too?"
"You know better than that," he admitted. "I hope that's food."
"It is. A cheeseburger with all the trimmings." She unwrapped the sandwich, stooped and held it for him to take a bite. While he chewed, she laid his sandwich on the canvas beside his head, rose and emptied another bag. She placed a carton of drinks in the cooler, took out the can remaining from the morning and opened it, stopping to give him a taste of it and to feed him another bite of the sandwich. To his surprise she began to remove the clothing he had bought her, hanging it carefully in the garment bag, pausing after each item to feed him another bite of sandwich or another sip of drink.
On one such she grinned and said, "I think I'll keep calling you Tiger, though I know exactly who you are. I have a good friend in the county offices. She says your wife and you just sold a house in the Bluewood section. Moved out of town, have you, Tiger? Mind telling me where?"
"Yes."
"That's all right. I know where. You submitted a change of address at the post office. I know <all> about you, Tiger! I know where you went to school, where you've worked the last five years, where you work now. I'll bet your dean's eyes would pop if he could see you like this!"
He sighed. "What do you propose to do with this knowledge, Mrs. Grainger?"
"Oh, keep calling me Lucy. Or even 'my dear.' To answer your question, I don't know." She shrugged. "Probably nothing, unless you give me trouble."
"Believe me: you'll never see or hear from me again!"
"But what if I don't want that, Tiger?"
"Huh?"
She smiled enigmatically. "Did you think that only men have power fantasies?"
"Power fantasies?"
She waved at the walls around them. "That's what this is really all about." Her voice grew stern. "You don't have the <right> to satisfy your curiosity about women on any particular one, unless she agrees. The only way you can do that is to overpower her, as you did me. You arrogant bastard! Well, guess what!"
He stared at her. "What is this, Lucy? Revenge?"
"Exactly! And while I'm about it, I, too, have a few steps of curiosity to satisfy!"
She glowered at him until his eyes dropped.
"But first ..." She opened the briefcase, leaving it sprawled across the canvas, and took out the surgical shears.
"What do you mean to do with that?" he asked, knowing the answer.
She sighed theatrically. "Ah, Tiger, I do admire your hairy legs." The shears came ripping up his pants leg. He jerked but they veered away in time. She paused to open belt and fly before cutting across the zipper, then repeated the entire operation on the other leg. Pulling the tatters of cloth from beneath him, she observed aggrievedly, "You could lift your butt, you know."
His undershorts were the work of a few seconds. As she attacked the plaid shirt, she said with a grin, "I got a surprising compliment because of you, Tiger. On my way out of the building I ran into Shirley Hastings, who hasn't been known to say anything kind in the last ten years. She swore that the peach flowers printed on your dress matched my skin perfectly, that I should wear prints more often. The funny thing is, I've never liked prints. They're too busy. I prefer simple, even severe, clothing. If surly Shirley is so overcome she has to compliment me for it, maybe I'd better buy some prints."
He winced as the shear point nicked his shoulder as it left the sleeve, but said only, "Do you work with her?"
"Used to. She's one floor down. I left and went with Bookman six years ago."
"If she speaks to your boss -- if anyone else saw you going out at lunch time, how will you explain it?"
"I'll tell them I was raped in the basement."
"Will you?"
She paused thoughtfully, hand gathering material to tug the shirt from beneath him. "Probably not, Tiger, though you've given me a problem there."
"A problem?"
"Yeah. Aunt Agatha died three months ago."
"Uh-oh! I was afraid of that."
"Were you!" She pulled the shirt remains free. "Your clumsy note goes best with a claim of being raped in the basement, especially since <my> fingerprints are not on it! But now Shirley has seen me in too good a mood to've just been raped. Can you remember the exact wording in that note?"
"Uh. I think so. I wrote it several times. Let's see. I believe -- Oooh! That tickles!"
The cotton undershirt would not rip. Cutting it up one side to the sleeve produced the complaint and a writhing torso. She lifted the cloth away from his skin. "Sorry. Go ahead."
"It said, 'I just now received a call from Aunt Agatha -- actually from the hospital. They say her condition is even more critical than before and I shouldn't waste a moment. I'm sorry that you won't have better notice. I'll call you as soon as I can.'"
"Huh! That would be fine, Tiger, if she weren't in her grave."
"Do you have another aunt?"
"No. She was the last."
"Any relatives work with you?"
"No."
"Then invent one."
"Do what?"
"Make her your favorite aunt, helped your mother raise you. You say, 'I wrote that?' You were so distraught by the news that ... please excuse me, Mr. Bookman ... you were a bit confused and wrote Aunt Agatha's name -- you were just thinking how this resembled Aunt Agatha's case -- instead of Aunt ... Abigail?"
"Hmm. Raise your shoulder." She pulled the T-shirt section from beneath him. "I don't care for 'Abigail.'"
"Whatever, though it should sound similar. How about Agnes? Then apologize for not rereading it before you left. It would be better to tell him this over the telephone. Fairly soon."
"Not too soon. Shirley won't see Bookman. Tiger, you're a slick liar. Is that what an English professor teaches?"
"You may not have heard, Lucy, that I'm an amateur playwright."
"Really! What kind of plays?"
"Period pieces, mostly. Victorian era."
She nodded. "That figures. When women had to submit, eh?"
"Because in that era of primitive technology submission was to their clear advantage."
"So <you> say! <I> say, along with Queen Victoria, 'We are not amused.'"
"I'm sorry, Lucy. I'll try harder to amuse you."
"Don't worry about that, Tiger. You'll start amusing me any time now."
<15:04>
When they had drained another drink can, she threw it aside and stood over him with a contemplative look. "Are you ready for Step One, Tiger?"
"S-Step One?"
She grinned. "Nervous, are you, Tiger? Let's find out if a nervous man is good for anything."
She knelt between his legs and took the flaccid, nearly withdrawn glans between thumb and forefinger. "What a difference! I can understand why the girl was fooled."
"F-fooled?"
"Surely you've heard that one, Tiger. It's an old college story."
"Unh!"
"What's the matter? Did I pinch too hard?"
"Would it do any good to complain?"
"Oh, yes! Every bit as much as it did me!"
He sighed. "Why don't you tell me the story?"
"This skin certainly does stretch, doesn't it! ... You want to hear my story? The biology professor said, 'Let's see if you read the lesson, Miss Jones. Stand up and tell us what organ of the body can enlarge to ten times its smallest size.' Have you heard it?""I ... don't recall ..."
"Miss Jones stands up, blushes and stammers. After awhile the disgusted professor says, 'It's the iris of the eye, Miss Jones, and I fear that you will be sadly disappointed.'"
"That's good."
"Then laugh."
"Ha! Ha!"
"Oh, Tiger! What happened to all that enthusiasm you showed this morning?"
He answered dryly, "I am coming to appreciate your position of this morning."
"Of course. You're lying in it. Is this a circumcised penis?"
"Ah ... yes."
"'Cord.' That's not a Jewish name, is it? Or did your folks change it?"
"My family was never Jewish. Surely you know, Lucy, that by now circumcised gentiles outnumber Jews!"
"How would I know that? As you pointed out, I'm not that kind of girl. If you're not Jewish why'd you get circumcised?"
"Ah, Lucy. Only in America does a woman make such a decision."
"Do you mean your mother had it done?"
"Yes, before I was hours old."
"Whatever for?"
"It's supposed to reduce cervical cancer."
"What kind? But you don't have a cervix!"
"You've noticed! In fact that is one of my pet peeves."
"Is that why you hate women?"
"Dammit, Lucy, I don't hate women! Quite the contrary! Losing my foreskin wasn't my mother's fault. She merely agreed to a doctor's suggestion that padded his fee. The fault was widespread -- still is, for that matter. Early in this century medical researchers noticed that Jewish women never got cervical cancer. What was different about Jewish women? Jewish men, of course! Ever since then the motto has been 'Off with the foreskins!' No one seems to have considered that Jews have a very different culture, affecting all kinds of personal habits, including diet. Many things are different about Jewish women besides their men."
"So you only hate Jewish women?"
"Lucy, I swear to you that I don't hate <any> woman!"
"Are you sure, Tiger? Not even me?"
"Surely by now you know what motivated me this morning."
"Tell me again."
"Curiosity. Only that. I was kidding about the anger. If I had a woman's equipment, I'd be just as odd about it as she is... You feel curious, too, don't you?"
She grinned. "But you had an advantage. The two or three porn flicks I've seen were interesting and, as you suggested, educational, but not something to hold your attention. Here I am with an opportunity I bet few women ever enjoyed, and hardly able to think of a <thing> to do! Guess I'll have to follow your lead, Tiger, with a few adjustments."
"Ouch!"
"Does that hurt, Tiger? I hardly squeezed them. Not nearly as hard as you squeezed my boobs. Ah, that feels strange!"
He groaned.
"They sort of roll over each other, like marbles in a bag, don't they? Why do they call them 'stones,' Tiger? They aren't nearly hard enough for that, are they?"
"God, that's nauseating!"
"Really? You feel it in your belly?"
"Yes! Please ... You'll make me sick ..."
She grunted in apparent surprise. "Look, the bag actually stretches, if you take it above the stones, like this. Too bad you can't see this."
He groaned louder. "I can <feel> it! God, don't rip 'em off!"
She nodded darkly, "That's how I felt when it seemed you would tear my nipples off. Hmm ... What does it take to make this get hard again?"
"Ah, sexual desire."
"You don't feel sexual desire, Tiger? Why is that?"
He answered dryly, "Fear seems to inhibit it."
"Fear? What are you afraid of?"
"That's obvious."
She waddled up over his legs and sat astride his hips, feet hooked over his thighs. "Even though you've got a naked vag -- pussy, you would say? -- rubbing your belly? Hmm ... I wonder if ... by god, yes, they do!"
"Do what?"
"You can see it if you raise your head. They harden like a woman's."
"Are you surprised?"
"Yes." She reached behind her. "But not your dick. Isn't this stimulating?"
"It ... might --"
"If you weren't chained down, eh? Oh, Tiger, I hope you see exactly how our roles are reversed." She grinned. "Now we find out who is the more cruel."
"B-but ... didn't you just say you'd not be meaner than I?"
"'Mean' and 'cruel' don't have exactly the same meaning, Tiger." She leaned forward and brushed the hair back that had fallen into his eyes. "For example, you licked me until I passed out. That was cruel but it wasn't mean."
He chuckled weakly. "That distinction may be too subtle for me, Lucy."
"Where are you ticklish, Tiger? I believe you said here ..." Her nails ran firmly over his ribs, retracing the earlier path of the scissors.
He winced and twisted sideways. "Oh, god, I can't stand it!"
She desisted with a smile of satisfaction. "To go on with that would be mean but not cruel. Do you see?"
"Whatever you say, Lucy."
"Hmm. I know who could teach you the difference." She raised up, squatting across him, apparently indifferent that her pubes opened against his belly. They felt wet. She hitched herself farther up his chest and took his chin firmly in hand.
"You shaved this morning, did you, Tiger?"
"Yes."
"But I can feel the whiskers coming back."
"It's called five-o'clock shadow -- at least after five o'clock."
"They grow faster than on a woman's legs, I bet."
"Maybe. I think it depends on the woman."
"Open your mouth."
He obeyed curiously. Immediately she thrust two fingers past his teeth and palpitated his tongue. "Hunh --" he began, wanting to ask what she was doing.
She grinned at him. "You could bite my fingers off, you know."
"Unh-uh." He shook his head slightly.
"If you were crazy, that is." Withdrawing her hand, she leaned forward and presented her lips in its place.
"Kiss me," she ordered. When he obeyed, her mouth opened and her tongue delved into his.
After a few seconds she slightly withdrew and asked in evident dissatisfaction, "Why won't you put your tongue in my mouth, too?"
Because you'd bite it, he wanted to say. Instead he took a breath and mumbled, "All right."
Again her mouth closed over his. He slipped his tongue nervously between her lips. When her teeth closed on it lightly, he snatched it back.
She giggled. "Don't you trust me, Tiger?"
"I ..."
"This is fun, a little bit, making you afraid. I'm surprised at myself. But when does a woman get to do it? Usually it's the other way around."
"Lucy, I did nothing just to scare you."
"Didn't you?"
"I'm sorry if it did."
"I'll bet you are now!"
She sighed fretfully. "Lou could tell me what else to do with you."
"Lou?"
She cocked her head, regarding him thoughtfully. "I'm not kidding when I mention a problem with that. A girl imagines what a man will do to <her>."
She held thumb and forefinger up before him, barely separated. "I came that close to inviting Lou over here when I talked to her this afternoon."
"You what?"
"Relax, Tiger. I didn't tell her anything. Not yet, at least. Her name is Louisa, but she says to call her Lou, even though it can be a man's name -- maybe <because> it can be a man's name!"
"She's that kind, is she?"
"Well, you wouldn't guess it by her looks. She's still pretty, with a full figure, though she's beginning to show her age just a bit. She had her tubes tied when she was young and claims it gave her very strong appetites."
"For what?"
"Everything. She's what the kids call a swinger."
"Men <and> women, eh?"
"Yes, and lots of them. You wouldn't believe her parties! But that's why she'd be helpful here. She's a great arranger. You ought to see her version of blind man's buff!"
"I can imagine it. Lucy, I didn't think you were that kind of girl."
"Oh, I'm not. I only went to one of her parties -- and left in the middle of it. But she still comes to see me once in a while. She likes to brag. To tell you the truth, I get a kick out of her adventures, but I'm too chicken to join them."
"So she tells you all about it. What does she <do> to you?"
She licked her lips and looked away.
"Are you a swinger too, Lucy?"
"Huh! Until today I thought I was a lesbian. You're the first man to have me since I went to that party."
"Is that a fact! So you and Louisa get it on, do you?"
"No. We only talk. I should've said, you're the first <person> to have me. But I wanted her to. I'm too chicken to tell her, that's all."
She grinned. "But look at me now, feeling of a man wherever I have the yen! I'll bet Lou never had a man tied down to do with whatever comes to mind. If I got her in here I'll bet her chin would sag past her boobs!"
"Lucy, you wouldn't ..."
"Don't be too sure." Her eyes lit. "But she's the computer nut. I can <show> her!"
She jumped off him and rummaged in his brief case, bringing out camera and tripod. "Tell me how to use this, Tiger."
"Lucy, I don't believe I ought to do that."
"Oh, no? Well, think about this, Tiger. Either Louisa sees you in the pictures or else she sees you in the flesh. Your choice. But I warn you. When she finds you helpless, she's liable to go wild. She might even want to keep your dick."
He cleared his throat. "First you screw the camera onto the tripod."
"Oh, I know about that. Tell me about the digital controls. What does the 'Mode' switch do?"
"Bring it here."
She held it close to him and he patiently explained the sequence of operations needed to make a picture and to display it on the LCD screen.
When she stood back and aimed the camera at him, he called aggrievedly, "At least put the mask on me!"
"The mask?" She lowered the camera from her eye and regarded him directly. "Wouldn't do any good, Tiger. She'll guess who you are.""She's my contact in the county offices."
"Good god!" He turned his face away from her.
"Too late!" she crowed. She took pictures from both sides, including close-ups of his face and pubic region. "Imagine Lucy Grainger photographing a dick!" she chortled. "I don't think I ever even used that word where a man could hear me before."
"It's a childish word."
"You don't like my language, Tiger? I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear it. This would photograph a lot better if it was hard. Make it hard, Tiger."
He shook his head with a sigh. "I couldn't do that even to save you cutting it off. Especially not then."
"Fear? You don't to need to fear me, Tiger."
"Don't I?"
"No more than I you. How do you attach the remote shutter?"
When he had told her, she joined him in the subsequent snapshots, first kneeling over his shoulders and smiling proudly -- "Look at my trophy!" she cried into the camera -- then kissing him, then biting his nipple, and finally after careful arrangement, kneeling between his legs and looking up to the camera with nearly all the soft penis past her lips.
She raised her head with a smirk. "I noticed that you didn't offer to poke your dick in my mouth while I was tied here! Why was that, Tiger?"
"Huh! The reason is obvious."
"Well, for your information I can bite it off now any time I want to."
He took a breath. "I was thinking about that just now."
She chuckled. "Did you think it would make a great picture?"
He choked. "Surely that would be mean and cruel!"
She took the wizened organ in hand contemplatively. "I've heard of women cutting it off an unfaithful lover. Lou says it's a common practice in Japan. I wonder how many times they actually bite it off instead. I wonder how hard it is to do that."
Her teeth closed around the base. He groaned in anticipation, drops of sweat appearing on forehead and chest. But she only chewed lightly before releasing him.
"I'll bet it's not too much trouble," she observed confidently, grinning at him, "no more than biting a chunk out of a turkey thigh. What do you think?"
Explosively he released his held breath. "Oh, god, Lucy!"
"Did I scare you, Tiger? Make your skin crawl? Good! That's how I felt lying there, too."
"Now, Lucy, what did I do that scared you so much?"
She thought about it. "Nothing, actually. It's what you might have done. The scariest thing was fear that you'd kill me to keep me quiet."
"But you know I planned too well for that to be a problem."
She grinned. "Do you think you planned well, Tiger?"
He sighed. "I thought so. Now, of course, it's all undone."
"Not necessarily."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not undone unless you undo it."
He regarded her hopefully. "Will you explain?"
She grinned sardonically. "What was it you said? 'I don't think I ought to do that.'"
"Why not?"
"That would be telling."
"Unfortunately I can't threaten you with Louisa!"
"No." She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then turned to the camera, standing it to one side with the remote shutter control retained in her hand as she knelt on his opposite side.
"Don't you need to pee?" she suggested.
"Well ... yes."
"Then go ahead."
"Lucy, in case you hadn't noticed, men are different. It's sure to wet my leg, maybe my belly."
"You mean you can't pee without handling it?"
"If I was standing up ..."
"Then it would droop, huh? Well, go ahead anyway. I'll hold it for you."
She took him in hand. He shrugged and released his sphincter. He saw her hand close on the remote shutter control as she played the stream back and forth on the canvas.
He asked, "Do you think Lou would enjoy this?"
"I know she would. She did it to several men at that party I mentioned. Then she raised her leg and showed that a woman can squirt it farther if she wants to -- that Lou, at least, can squirt it farther."
"A woman's urethra is much shorter."
"Her what?"
"Pee passage."
"That's what she said, too! Hmm. I believe it takes men longer to go."
"That's reasonable. Perhaps you could get your friend to do an experiment."
She chuckled. "Think you'd like to go to one of Lou's parties, do you, Tiger?"
"I might."
"Finished?" she asked when his stream failed. He produced a final spurt before agreeing.
"Will you try to beat my range?" he wondered.
"No, I don't care who can piss farther. Lou loves to beat men at one thing or another, but I don't think men and women ought to compete, despite what the feminists say. Ugh! Your piss stinks!"
"I'm sorry."
"Did you think I was going to drink it, Tiger? As you reminded me this morning, I don't care for the taste of it. But there is something else I want to taste while I have the chance."
She looked at him steadily. A pink spot appeared in both her cheeks.
"Why, Lucy! Surely this doesn't embarrass you!"
"A little," she admitted. "I've heard a lot of women describe it, but I've never tasted it myself. Some say it's good, some say it's awful, some say it's tasteless. I'm curious to find out. Can you do it again, Tiger, after this morning?"
"I ... Maybe. It's been a couple hours, hasn't it?"
She grinned. "If I promise not to bite it off?"
"Especially that!"
"But first ... You're right! I can think of other things to be curious about! What do you know about male anatomy, Tiger?"
"Well, in case you've noticed, I have one."
"Are you trying to be cute? Where exactly is the prostate?"
"Ah ... Pretty much directly above the testicles, I'd say."
"I've heard that you can feel it, if you press forward inside the rectum."
When he was silent, she demanded, "Well, is that true?"
"It ... ah ... may be."
She grinned darkly. "I could get Lou to ask you, but there's another way. Why don't I just look in and see?"
"You don't mean --"
"But I do!"
Grinning, she took up the tube of jelly and squeezed it liberally over her hand. "Now, now, Tiger, quit thrashing. As you assured me this morning, I won't hurt you."
"Your fingernails are wicked!"
She extended one hand. "Do you think so, Tiger? I try to keep them even, but it's a losing battle. I'll be careful. After all, I can put them in me without cutting!"
She spent a moment positioning the camera. "Should've set the camera first. What d'you think, Tiger? Will this jelly hurt it?"
"I ... don't know. Probably not. Of course, if you got it on the lens ..."
She grinned, kneeling between his legs. "I won't do that. Now hold still. You wouldn't want me to look in the wrong hole, would you?"
"What? There's only the one."
"I meant this little teeny one right here. What did you call it, the urethra? Look at that! I can get my pinkie nail right in it."
His tossing ceased abruptly.
"Hmm," she murmured, directing her attention lower, parting his cheeks with the hand of the threatening nail while the other thrust forward. "You know better than that, Tiger. Loosen up!"
After a moment she added, "That's better."
"My god! What are you putting in me?"
"Only three fingers ... so far. I thought I counted four in me, and your hand is larger! Hmm. There's a kind of a lump here, in front ... Feels like a groove down the middle of it. Does that hurt, Tiger?"
"N-no."
"Even when I press this hard?"
"Well, a little."
After a while the woman mused, "She was right!"
"Huh?"
"I'm getting a clear fluid. Well, almost clear."
"I can ... feel it seeping. I've done this, too, with my thumb."
"But it's not semen, is it?"
"I don't know."
She bent very low. Again he felt her mouth and tongue. Her hand, holding the remote shutter aloft, closed.
When she raised her head, he asked, "Does it taste like semen?"
She rose off him, spat in the corner, wiped her hand on a paper towel and retrieved a drink can from the cooler. She stood sipping it, studying him, and remarked, "Lou said you can get a man to come by fingering his ass. But it's not come, is it? You didn't feel a climax, did you?"
"No." He sighed. "Lucy, you can read about that in medical books. The prostate makes a fluid that nourishes the sperm after ejaculation. If you squeeze the gland you force that fluid down the urethra."
She continued to study him. "Three fingers were easy."
He shifted restlessly. She held up the drink can. "I'll bet this would go in, too. See how gently rounded the bottom is, almost as if that's what they had in mind. Ever try one, Tiger?"
"God, no!"
"Let's find out."
"For god's sake, Lucy, you'll freeze me to death!"
"Oh, not this can, silly! There's a warm one over there in the corner. I'll even pee on it to make sure. Want a sip of this drink first?"
"Yes, please."
She bent and dribbled the liquid into his mouth. He sputtered, then turned his face away. "Lucy, it'll tear me."
"Oh, I don't think so." She stepped over him, stooped and held up the speculum, squeezing its handles closed, observing with a smirk, "You did boast of putting it in you!"
She held the drink can beside it. The swollen shaft of the speculum was clearly wider. When his eyebrows rose, she smiled sweetly and began to coat the can with jelly. He choked. She chuckled and again knelt between his legs.
"Weren't you going to piss on it?" he wondered hastily.
"Oh, it's warm enough. Raise up a little."
"Lucy, this won't work!"
"I bet it will. And it won't hurt as much if you cooperate. Don't clamp. Push out instead."
He groaned as she worked the slippery can back and forth, her shoulders straining.She sat back, her voice lighter. "See! Told you it would go!"
"God! Feels like you've shoved a brick up me!"
"But it doesn't hurt, does it?"
"How are you so confident of that? Had it done to you?"
"<You> did it to me! Didn't I just show you that the can is smaller than the speculum?"
"Umm." He was quiet while she operated the camera, which suggested another worry.
"I once saw the x-ray of a woman's gut with a vibrator -- Lucy, please, please tell me you didn't put it in so far you can't get it out!"
"Oh, no. All I have to do is poke my finger in the hole, pull hard, and ... out it comes."
He groaned loudly as she suited action to words.
"See?" She held up the greasy can, still impaled on her finger. Suddenly her expression changed to astonishment. "God, what a hole! Why, I could almost ..."
"Lucy! What are you doing? You can't do that!"
"Oh, yes, I can. Hold still, or I'll squeeze you where it really hurts!"
After a moment of strenuous activity she was still. "There, Tiger! Past the wrist!"
He groaned. "Good god!"
"Do you claim that it hurts?"
"I -- I --"
"Well?"
"Y-yes."
"You lie. Lou and I did it to each other. It only hurts at the knuckles. We stopped at the wrist. I wonder ..."
"Wait a minute, Lucy! Wait, I say! Put some more jelly on your arm and, for god's sake, keep those fingernails tucked in. A cut in there could be fatal, you know."
"Only to you, Tiger."
He choked again.
She marveled, "I swear your dick has drawn up into your belly."
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Slathering the jelly on, just as you said."
Her free hand positioned the camera. She leaned forward again and he felt pressure increase in his belly similar to a gas cramp.
"Please, Lucy! It's beginning to hurt."
"Is it? Gotta make a picture of this. I'm up to my elbow! Where <is> that remote shutter?"
She leaned down, laying her face on his thigh, grinning at the camera and working the shutter button repeatedly. "Lou would never believe this without the picture."
She readjusted the camera to include his head. "This time I want <your> expression," she explained, suddenly withdrawing the captive hand as she snapped the shutter with the other, inducing him to produce his loudest groan yet.
He opened his eyes to find her wiping her arm with paper towels. She grinned up at him. "What'd you think of that, Tiger? You ought to see the hole <now>!"
"Oh, god, Lucy!"
She nodded. "I know it hurts a little, but not for long. And from now on you don't have to sweat getting thrown in jail. No dick is as big as my forearm."
He took a breath and said dryly, "So you've done me a favor."
"Right! You do understand, don't you, Tiger? And as you said, I've satisfied <my> curiosity, too -- part of it. I bet not many women know what a <man> feels like inside!"
"What <did> it feel like?"
"Hard to describe. If I don't tell you, will you go home and stick your arm up your wife's bottom?"
Before he could respond she added, "No, not your wife. Some other unsuspecting victim, huh?"
He shook his head. "I've seen pictures of hands up women's bottoms, both places. The Internet is full of them. You didn't notice it, Lucy, but I put my hand past the knuckles into your vagina this morning right after I took the speculum out. A rectum, though ... The women who take hands there seem to be ... <coarse>."
"Coarse?" She laughed in derision. "You think a woman is coarse if she lets men have their way with her?"
"Well, when she's useless for any --"
"After you <forced> me to do it?"
Her mouth twisted and her cheeks pinked. Hastily he objected, "Who put whose arm up whose ass?"
She took a deep breath. "All right, Tiger. Guess you think <I'm> coarse now."
"No, no."
"Well, maybe I am. And you're wrong if you think I didn't feel your hand in me. Look at this."
She waddled up over his torso, until her toes fetched up against his armpits, and thrust a still greasy hand fully into herself.
His mouth fell open in astonishment. "My god!" he exclaimed. "And you haven't even born a child!"
"How do you know?"
"Small nipples, smooth pink cervix, no mother's marks."
She grunted, ceasing to argue, and stepped back. She held up a wet hand and chuckled. "This stimulates me."
"Kinsey found that touch is woman's best stimulus."
"Kinsey is obsolete. Bet he never stuck his arm up anyone's butt."
"If so he never mentioned it. Did you try that hand trick first on yourself?"
"After Lou showed me."
"I can't believe how easily you did it."
"Did I impress you, Tiger?"
"I'll say you did!"
She studied him pensively. "You know, I'm beginning to understand your motive."
"Are you?"
"When your partner is chained helpless to do with as you wish -- even to kill him, if that's what you want -- it makes a difference, doesn't it?"
"A difference in what?"
"In what you're willing to say and do. It makes you more honest."
"Please, Lucy. You're scaring me."
"Scaring you?"
"If you get <too> honest, you'll never let me out of this cellar."
She grinned but continued on her theme. "I misspoke. I mean it makes you <willing> to be more honest. Whether you are or not is another matter." Her smile vanished. "And there's something else. When you moaned and groaned just now, I ... think I felt sorry for you ... just because you were helpless. I think I even felt protective. Can you believe that?"
"Protective?"
"You'd better believe it! Else I'd've stuck it in you to the shoulder. Imagine getting to stick something in a <man>, for a change!"
"What was it, Lucy, mother instinct?"
"It could have -- Are you making fun of me, Tiger?"
"Oh, no! I'm grateful for it, whatever it was."
"You should be!" She eyed him thoughtfully. "Huh! I want a picture of that."
So saying she settled the camera between his legs and snapped with one hand, eyeing the display from an angle, while the other hand held penis and testicles out of the way.
"Am I bleeding?" he asked, biting his lip.
"Bleeding!" she jeered. "You <are> very red in there! Hmmm. I'll bet I could put my foot in you up to the knee without any trouble. Next you'll tell me you've seen pictures of that, too."
"I've seen a lot of pictures. Most of that kind were middle aged women who make their living by taking things into their anuses."
"Their living!" She stared at him. "Who would pay them for that?"
"Oh, there's a demand, all right. Would you be so kind as to put the corner of a paper towel in me and let me see it?"
She shrugged. "Why not?" As she returned with the towel, she mused, "I thought they paid to put into vaginas! Or mouths."
"As you demonstrated a moment ago, it's the young women who have the capacious vaginas. I guess the old ones do, too, but young vaginas are preferred."
"I'd hate to earn my living by letting people put things in my ass. No blood. See?"
"Yes. Thank you."
<15:40>
She stood the camera away from him and stooped to examine his wristwatch.
"What's the time?" he asked.
"It's later," she answered absently, turning back to the camera. She positioned it behind his left shoulder, looking down towards his crotch, and adjusted the framing and the height of the tripod.
"Not four o'clock yet, is it?"
Ignoring his question, she went to the cooler and took out a can. "Want a sip?"
"Yes, please."
She poured a thin stream into his mouth and took a swallow herself. She took up a handful of paper towels, knelt between his legs and carefully dribbled the drink can into his pubes, simultaneously scrubbing him with the towels.
He heaved violently. "Good god, Lucy, that's cold!"
"Sorry about the cold," she responded, still wiping him. "I just realized I'd rather taste sticky coke than the piss and everything else you've got on this thing today."
"Ow!"
"What now?"
"It's burning my ass!"
"Yes, I guess it would." She wiped more tenderly. "How long does it take an asshole to shrink back?"
"I don't know. Not too long, I think. You said 'taste.' What are you planning, Lucy?"
"I'll tell you." She raised up to look at him. "I'm going to find out what it tastes like. And I'm going to do to you what you did to me."
"Wh ... what do you mean?"
"You wanted to find out how it feels to go on after you've come. I intend to show you. Unless it tastes so bad I have to puke."
"Unless what?"
"But I don't think it will. Only one girl I know claimed it made her sick, but she admitted being drunk at the time."
She had spread the remaining drink upon the canvas between his legs. After scrubbing it with the towels she stood erect and said in disgust, "This won't work. Is there any water on this floor, Tiger?"
"Floor? Well, there's a rest room down the corridor. The toilet is dry but there's water in the sink."
"I'll not lie in your piss, Tiger -- sticky coke, either." With that she took the print dress off its hanger and began pulling it on over her head.
"Wait a minute, Lucy," he protested. "Don't go out there."
"Why not?" She paused to regard him, peering out through the neck of the dress, now down over her breasts.
"Because once in a while the janitor comes here to get out his next day supplies. That's why I asked for the time."
"Thought you said you'd never seen anyone here."
"Until the late afternoon."
She slipped the dress back off her shoulders and stood with hair down in her face. "It's three forty."
"If he's coming it could be anytime before five-thirty. I have a suggestion. Lie on me. Reversed."
She cocked lip and eyebrow. "Would you bite me, Tiger?He answered dryly, "I doubt even the wildest tiger would bite the one who has his dick in her mouth."
"You have a point."
"And close the door tight, will you?"
She snorted. "Listen to who's giving orders!" But she rehung the dress. Climbing on the box, she sealed the furnace door and closed the latch snugly. Turning back she stood over him and asked in a lowered voice, "Could he hear us talking?"
"Not over the transformer hum."
"What if I make you scream?"
"I ... I don't ..."
"You made <me> scream, didn't you?"
"Ah ... I don't remember."
"Yes, you do."
He sighed. "The janitor might've heard you. Of course, we know he didn't."
She nodded then asked, "Does light leak out of here?"
"No. Didn't you notice as you brought in the groceries?"
"I didn't see any." She regarded him speculatively. "You know, it's really to your advantage for us not to get caught."
"I know that," he agreed. "To yours, too."
"How do you figure that? Because of what's in the camera?"
"Because we're just about even."
"Do you think so?"
"Don't you?"
She didn't answer. After a moment's contemplation she mused, "It's interesting how things work out, isn't it, Tiger?"
"Oh, yes," he agreed. "Interesting!"
"You're about to learn more than you expected. And you should be properly grateful."
"For the education?"
"For my restraint."
"I --"
"You may not've thought of it, Tiger, when it was your turn, but <I> did! You said you were curious. Biting your dick off is nothing. I could take those scissors and find out what you're <really> like inside."
"Ah, uh --"
She grunted. "What big eyes you have, Tiger! Have you ever cut a woman up?"
"No! Of course not!"
She nodded. "That has the ring of truth. But why not, if you're so curious about us?"
"Well, the medical books are full of pictures of cut-up women. There's nothing sexy about them."
"Exactly, Tiger."
"Why 'exactly?'"
"'Nothing sexy!' " she repeated, adding with a sneer, "You and your claims of 'almost scientific' curiosity! It was never anything but plain, ordinary rape, Tiger: what you did to me and what I'm doing to you. It's the way kids play with beetles: poke 'em and see how they jump. That's what rape is, you know."
He stared at her, unable to think of an immediate retort.
With a chuckle at his expression she stepped over him to his shoulder, turned about and sank on her knees beside him, then stretched out with her thighs over his shoulder. Her elbows spread beside his hips.
She grunted when she took him in hand. "Can a man come without a hard-on?"
"Yes. In a wet dream. Or if ..."
"If what?"
"Before it can harden if it's handled vigorously enough."
"Hmm. I see. I think."
Lips enclosed the head, fingers the short shaft. The fingers fluttered longitudinally, the tongue radially.
"You could enjoy this, too," he suggested, "if you'd shift your hips over my face. You certainly don't have to worry about <me> biting!"
She released him long enough to reply, "No, thank you, Tiger. This time <you're> the guinea pig."
"It'll make me come sooner."
Her mouth and hand resumed without comment. Soon, however, she drew up a knee and centered her hips on his chest. Her cool thighs closed about his ears. She wriggled backward until the sensitive folds met his thrusting tongue.
He knew her intention and feared for his sanity if she succeeded. Once a playful Vietnamese whore had tried to keep him in suction as he flooded her mouth. It had suddenly become the most unbearable experience of his life, never since equaled. Now it threatened to repeat, and this time he couldn't slap the hungry mouth away.
He worked his own tongue furiously in the scented flesh, hoping to distract the woman from her plan. But his argument to her had been only too accurate. The odors in his nostrils were decisive. His third climax of the day spurted uncontrollably into the strong suckling mouth. For a moment he withstood it, as pain appeared in counterpart to the fierce pleasure. Howling unconsciously, he threw his head back against the canvas, bones creaking under clamped muscles, his whole being a solid mix of agony and delight. He saw flashes of color in the instant before all awareness departed.
<16:17>
He felt her weight depart him and heard the sound of the cooler disturbed, followed by the hiss of an opened drink can. He felt drained of energy but the pain was gone. He raised his head to the sound and blinked his eyes open. She was watching him, the can to her lips.
"Want some?" she asked, gesturing it toward him.
"Please."
She bent and dribbled it between his lips. Cool and sweet, it burned his tongue, reminding him of another contrast. Licking his lips, he said, "I passed out."
She snorted. "You sound surprised."
"I only passed out once before in my whole life."
She cocked her head. "The same way?"
"Oh, no. Would you believe a gas cramp?"
"A gas cramp!"
"Fell straight off the john and smashed my nose on the floor."
She chuckled but suddenly grew serious. "Did I hurt you?"
"Terribly. But I don't need to tell you about that, do I?"
"No, you don't. Is your curiosity satisfied?"
He took a breath. "At the last I saw stars."
Her eyes flickered. "So did I."
"Did you! What about your curiosity? How did it taste?"
She thought a moment. "Flat. No flavor. I was surprised." Her lip twitched. "Lou claimed it would taste like bouillon."
"That was my third time today. Maybe the first is more flavorful."
"Don't <you> know?"
"Mmm. Not really."
"In that case you can show me tomorrow."
Wide eyes searched her face. She grunted. "Don't look so worried."
She set the drink can carefully aside, got to her feet and took down the hanger of her clothing, saying, "No more games, Tiger."
"What do you mean?"
But she only proceeded to dress herself. She erected his mirror on the entry box, knelt and ran fingers through her hair, patting it this way and that, muttering, "Why didn't you bring a comb? Never mind, I know why. Why do you cut your hair so short?"
"It's how my wife likes it."
"Hmpf! I don't think I like her much. This wouldn't've happened if she had sucked your dick like a good little wife."
Her petulant tone encouraged him to ask, "Lucy, you're not really sorry, are you?"
She regarded him narrowly. "You wish!"
She began to unscrew the camera from the tripod. He wanted to ask if she meant to let him rot there. Instead he wondered, "If you had a husband, Lucy, would you suck his dick?"
"And swallow?" she added with a sardonic grin.
She shrugged. "Why not?" Her grin brightened. "It's kind of neat, isn't it? Licking a twat can get your whole face wet."
"So can a dick."
"Not the way <we> do it!"
"Lucy ... ah, if you want to please a man you should let up when he comes."
"Who's worried about pleasing?"
She let the tripod fall to the canvas and slipped the camera into her purse, taking something out. He recognized his wallet.
She faced him, compressing her lips. After a moment she said, "I made a copy of your driver's license and university ID just in case, because I found my address on a paper next to the credit cards. Did you plan to catch me at home, too? If you did, that's the 'in case.' I put everything back that I took out except the note with the address."
She laid the wallet on top of the cooler and retrieved another item from the purse. It resembled --
"This is your plane ticket. It's still good. I rescheduled you. I've marked the flight number on it. You have plenty of time -- if you don't kidnap anyone else."
"Never again, Lucy."
"Yeah, I bet!"
"Lucy, you're a marvel! You rescheduled me?"
She shrugged. "I'm an experienced secretary, after all."
She stood over him, purse in one hand, shoes dangling from the other. "And now an experienced cock sucker. Huh! We know more things about each other than most married people."
"Yes, we do."
"Damn you anyway, Tiger. Don't you ever grab me that way again!"
"I hope ... I'd like to see --"
"To see me again? Ha! What you really hope is that I leave you the key."
He licked dry lips. "Yes."
"I actually thought about unlocking you, let you leave with me. There's clothes for you in that bag."
She paused. "I don't <think> you'd hurt me now."
"No."
"But you'd take the camera away from me. I want those pictures, Tiger."
"You can have them."
"I <will> have them." She laid shoes and purse on the stepping box and took out a key. She bent and unlocked the clasp on his left ankle, opening the restraint and pushing it away from him with her foot. "See? It's the right key."
"I see."
She walked carefully around him and stood next to his right hand. "I'm not coming back, Tiger."
"You aren't?"
"So don't screw it up."
"I won't."
She sighed. "I can't take the chance you'd drop it."
She placed the key in the palm of his right hand and closed his fingers over it. Instantly she snapped herself erect, bending away from his feet, presumably in case he should try to kick her, and dashed to the box. In five seconds she had opened the portal, scooped up purse and shoes, clambered outside and clanged the iron door shut behind her, all without a backward glance.
<Epilog>
Returning from a lecture, he found a plain package delivered to his office desk. It had been addressed in a woman's handwriting, though not Lucy's, and covered with postage stamps, suggesting that the mailer had avoided the post office window. No return address was evident.It contained his camera, apparently undamaged, packed with plastic popcorn into a reused shipping box whose previous labels had been carefully removed. On his home computer he proved that indeed the camera still worked, but the pictures he and Lucy had taken were gone from its memory.
On a hunch he widened his regular scans of the Internet news groups. In a few days he decoded a first of series from alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.bondage. With an electric thrill he saw unmistakably his own face, head raised, eyes clenched shut, behind the view of a merry-eyed Lucy, one of his nipples between her teeth. When the shock subsided, he spent a moment admiring the crispness and depth of field before finding the article header. But the file had been posted anonymously through a remailer. The putative Louisa was indeed a computer expert!
An hour later he downloaded the "morning" Lucy, face mask blurred, breasts sagging to either side as mature ones do when the owner is on her back, but birthmark and gaping vagina sharply focused. He recalled snapping that one just after removing his whole hand from her, while wondering if the camera was stopped down enough for adequate depth of field. Apparently not.
The entire series appeared over the next week. When it was complete, he counted eight in which his facial features were recognizable.
He squared mental shoulders and waited for the inevitable denunciation. But recognition depends also on environment, or so he was able to conclude when a year had passed without incident. Apparently no one connected a respected English professor, always carefully formal with students and faculty, to this hapless wimp who couldn't get it up even with an enthusiastic woman sucking his balls.
Lucy's body showed to advantage. Its velvet texture was evident despite the digital grain. The pictures in which she was prominent, whether "dominatrix" or victim, were quite popular, appearing many times over the next several months, reposted in many erotic newsgroups by many viewers, few of whom took the trouble of anonymity. But these were merely copiers. Nothing was revealed of the ultimate source.
It had been a risky experiment, he decided, one that furnished all the knowledge he'd hoped -- and then some. It had fortunately ended without exacting the terrible price anticipated after Lucy closed the manacle over his wrist. Curiosity satisfied, he vowed never to take such risks again.
Then came a night with the Message light blinking on his answering machine. He played it back and heard Lucy's voice. "The basement baggage is available," she intoned as if reading a script, "for access at seven P.M. on the twenty-fifth."
Baggage indeed! With those few words his hard-won contentment vanished. Dread warred with anticipation. He opened a desk drawer to verify that he still had the key to the building. Of course it was where he had left it, though somehow his pistol had shifted partly over it.
He knew then that, whatever the decision, his life would never again be the same. | 3 |
5,820 | Charmed Life | One Friday evening not too long ago, Lisa told me that she was too tired to go out for some dinner and a movie. Lisa had a long and stressful week at work, so I had no problems with her request that we stay home that evening. Thus, I opted to camp out on the sofa in the living room and watch some television. Basketball! Lisa was in and out. Sometimes she would watch the game with me; other times, she was milling around the apartment, doing things. I find it flattering that Lisa will watch basketball with me, because she has no interest in the sport. But Lisa will watch basketball with me because she considers it as us spending time with one another - doing something TOGETHER. Of course, I make similar sacrifices for her. It is not often that you see a 23-year-old guy at an Ice-Capades show, you know. But all of this is off the topic... Back to the night in question, Lisa left the living room at halftime of the basketball game. Then, I did not hear a peep from her for over an hour. All of a sudden, however, she spoke behind me, "Jeremy, I'm going to take a shower." Laying on the sofa, I could not see her behind me. I just heard her statement, and replied in a leisurely tone. "Okay sweetheart, take your time." Next, I focused back on the television screen. My favorite team was playing! Several seconds went by until Lisa spoke up again. "Would you care to join me in the shower?" My eyebrows raised at the sexy, sultry tone of voice she had just used. Would I care to join her? Would I ever! Whether my favorite basketball team was playing or not... it did not matter. Not with such a great alternative..... Quickly, I sat up on the sofa and looked at her. I had to suppress a lustrous smile... Lisa was standing at the beginning of the hallway - completely, gloriously nude! "Last one in the tub's a rotten egg!" she giggled, before darting off down the hallway. I couldn't help but to laugh now, while turning off the television via remote control and getting up myself. This wouldn't be the first time Lisa and I had taken a shower together. But it's still very exciting for me, just to even think about... let alone actually do. Once in the main hallway, I could already hear the shower running in the restroom. I took my shirt off and dropped it upon the floor along the way, then went into the restroom and found Lisa in the shower herself. She had the foggy glass door closed, but giggled and waved at me anyway. Within seconds, I was completely nude as well, ripping off all remaining clothes and tossing them onto the floor. I then opened the sliding glass door far enough so I could slip into the shower. Quickly, I closed it behind me. It took me a few seconds to adjust to the hot water which shot down onto me from above, especially since I was used to the cool temperatures throughout the rest of the apartment. But before I could think much about that, Lisa was in front of me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressing her full breasts hard against my chest. I slipped my arms around her as well, and then her mouth found mine for a deep and loving kiss. Getting frisky in the shower is one of Lisa's favorite activities. I never really gave much thought to the idea until she suggested it to me, a few years ago. Since, it has become one of my favorite activities as well. The hot shower water was shooting down onto her shoulders and back, but I could still feel it hitting my body too. It is very erotic to do this sort of thing in the shower... I can definitely attest to that. I moaned against our shared kiss once Lisa slipped a hand between our pressed bodies, and found my cock. Her long, sleek fingers encircled it, and offered a firm squeeze. I moaned again, and this time, I watched as Lisa's brown eyes opened and looked directly into mine. There was a sparkle in her pretty eyes, and she even giggled through the kiss upon giving my hardening shaft another squeeze. Her long blonde hair was already soaked, so I gathered a clump of it with my right hand and pressed it against her back while increasing the ferocity of our kiss. My tongue dove deep into her mouth, wanting to taste its sweetness. Lisa's tender hand continued pumping my cock as our tongues swirled and twirled around together, in a mixture of love and passion. The thick steam which had engulfed the entire restroom was not solely because of the hot water. (!) I felt a washcloth against my shoulder, and broke the kiss to look down and notice Lisa holding it there. Her hand was no longer on my enlarged cock. I then looked into her eyes, and she offered me her patented flirty smile. "How about giving me a washdown, Jeremy?" My eyes opened wide at her request. "What?" she laughed, in a teasing voice. "What did you think? I called you into the shower just for SEX?" I had to laugh at her tone of voice. She was trying to be cute, and was successful in her attempt. "No, Lisa," I replied through a smile. "No, of course not. Sure, let me soap you up, and I'll be happy to wash you." Lisa gave me a humorous, sneery grin before turning her back to me. She gathered her long blonde hair and placed it over her left shoulder, so it hung down in front. This way, I had full access to her back, and did not have to worry about her long, beautiful hair getting in the way. I got some liquid soap from its container and began to spread it all across her back and shoulders. The water was now beating down onto her flat stomach, and I watched and heard her moan while spreading the gooey gold liquid into her soft skin. Eyes shut, she arched her head back slightly and let out another moan. I could tell that Lisa was truly enjoying herself at this moment in time. She squealed and grinned as I placed the washcloth upon her back and began to slide it around, working the soap into her pores. Her eyes opened and she looked back at me, then offered a big smile as I rubbed and caressed her back with the washcloth. I pecked her lips with a quick kiss and then nuzzled my face against her neck, my hand in constant motion. Needless to say, my erection was at full strength now. And Lisa was making me even more excited - playfully jutting her bottom back against my shaft in a continual manner. Once her back was completely lathered up with the soap, I slid both hands down to her hips, the washcloth in one of them. This time, I pressed myself hard against her bottom, my enlarged cock trapped between us. I slid the washcloth around her hips, my mouth busy kissing her ear and cheek.My shaft still pressing hard against her bottom, I moved both hands up and encircled her breasts with my palms, the cloth still in one of them. I cupped and squeezed her large breasts, and then she squealed as I slid the soapy washcloth through her ample cleavage. Lisa's hands soon covered mine, and then all four moved in sexual unison as I squeezed and rotated her luscious breasts.
"You like this?" I whispered in her ear.
"Hmmmm," she purred, nodding her head in the affirmative.
"I love you, sweetheart," I said, kissing her neck.
"I love you too, Jeremy," she responded in kind.
"I'll always love you," I added, emphasizing the point. "Always and forever, I'll love you, sweetheart."
Lisa moaned and turned around, then kissed me once more. The shooting water was now centered on her back again, and it rinsed her skin free of all the thick soap as we kissed. I dropped the washcloth, then cupped and squeezed her rounded, firm bottom with both hands. She sighed against me in response, but continued forth with the kiss.
Not for long, though.
Seconds later, Lisa broke the kiss and then took a page out of my book, planting several kisses along my neck and shoulders. I do that to her quite often.
I ran my fingers through her wet hair, watching the water shoot down onto her upper back and neck as she kissed me. I massaged her scalp - rubbing and digging my fingers against it. Then, I felt her right hand enclose around my enlarged shaft once again. I sighed and cupped her head in response.
Suddenly, I found the hot water beating down onto my own stomach. I looked down and noticed that Lisa was now on her knees, her hand busy pumping away at my cock. I sighed as my body shivered in lust, and I had to hold onto the nearby towel rack just not to fall over, and keep my balance.
The shower water slid down my frontside, over and past my cock, but that did not stop Lisa from giving me yet another splendid offering of fellatio. Her lips wrapped themselves around my pulsating cock, and then her head started bobbing back and forth, like a swinging pendulum.
I still held onto the nearby metal rack - not wanting to become too lightheaded and subsequently lose my balance.
Lisa simply loves to give blowjobs to me. There is no doubt about that, either. And there is also no doubt, in my mind at least, that she is the absolute best when it comes to giving head. Certainly, I have not had any better.
I arched my head way back and let out a loud sigh as she continued her expert oral work. Her tongue and lips, along with the added stimulation of hot shower water coursing over my shaft, brought a quick and unexpected orgasm.
Lisa momentarily gagged as the first cum-shot erupted from my shaft, certainly not expecting one quite yet either. But she quickly adjusted, and started guzzling my cream down her willing, greedy throat. The cum spurts eventually grew weaker and weaker from me, but her head kept bobbing back and forth, much like a machine. A blowjob machine!
She quit, however, and looked up at me with a saucy, sexy expression. That sight started another erection for me.
I reached down and grabbed her shoulders, then pulled her up into a standing position. Next, I embraced her and once again, offered a deep and passionate kiss. I was very hungry for what her mouth had to offer. Lisa could give me a blowjob from now until the end of time. Me, I could kiss her mouth forever, and never become complacent or bored.
I was very content with this specific kiss, but Lisa had her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me away. That broke the kiss and then she pushed down on my shoulders, making me drop to my knees. Then, Lisa brought one leg up and placed her foot upon the edge of the tub, and gave me a heated expression. I knew what she wanted.
The hot water beat down upon her back as I moved my face between her outstretched thighs. I spread her tiny slit with fingers from each hand, then started lapping away.
Lisa's body tensed and she moaned as I feasted upon her delicious treasure box. I kept one hand in close, and used it in unison with my lips and tongue, sliding a finger in and out of her. My other hand was on her bottom, gently squeezing and pinching its supple, tight flesh.
Eating Lisa, I could already tell that she was wet... and it wasn't because of the water. I could taste her own love juice - it was slowly seeping out as I licked away at her delicious slit. I wanted to make her explode, though... just as she had made me explode minutes earlier.
So, I increased the tempo, and really began to work on her pleasure cove with my mouth and finger. Lisa cried and shrieked in passion above me, then almost lost her balance. She had to grab onto the same towel rack that I had used, and it helped maintain her footing.
I really had Lisa rocking in passion and lust - my mouth giving its best effort to please her. Thus, I was quite surprised when Lisa suddenly opened the shower door and quickly stepped out.
I had to collect my senses for an instant before looking out at her. She already had a towel in hand, and was drying herself off at a maddening, furious pace. "Let's play hide and go seek!" she exclaimed, like a small child. "If you can find me, I'll give you a surprise!" With those words, Lisa dropped the towel and darted out of the restroom.
Hide and go seek? She was being playful now, and I had to laugh out loud while replaying her statements in my mind. I already knew what that "surprise" would be. It was a special place where my cock enjoyed being inserted into.
I turned off the shower water and stepped out of the tub, and then gave myself a quick rubdown with a towel as well. I dried myself off more than Lisa did herself, though.
My next move was to exit the restroom. I walked over to the bedroom and glanced inside, but did not see Lisa. It was the natural place to look first. Then, I went to the laundry room and looked there. Again, no sight of her.
"Where are you, my little sex toy?" I called out, in a teasing voice, while walking toward the living room. "I want to claim that special surprise you promised me. Where are you?" She wasn't in the living room or the dining room. I looked in the kitchen, and she wasn't there, either. I checked the two side closets. Nothing.
Having given a look to every room, I went back to the restroom and felt for a wet spot on the carpeted floor. Lisa had not done a good job drying herself off. I found a wet spot, and followed its trail to the bedroom. Ahh, she was here. I should have SEARCHED it earlier, I thought.
Sure enough, Lisa playfully screamed and giggled once I found her laying on the floor, on the other side of the bed.
"I want that surprise!" I said in a forceful but playful voice, pulling her up to me. Gently, I pushed her down to the bed, onto her back. Then I got onto the bed, on my knees, and positioned myself between her widespread thighs.
Suddenly however, it seemed, Lisa changed her mind.
"I want to be on top," she said, rolling out from under me. "You can be on the bottom this time."
It didn't matter to me.
I let her position me flat on my back, upon the bed, and then she straddled my hips, her slit hovering just over my bulging cock. Lisa moaned and sighed in pleasure as she lowered herself to my shaft, it sliding deep up into her. Once firmly implanted in her, I reached up and found her hands with my own, and grasped them tightly.
The expression upon Lisa's beautiful face tightened as she started to bounce up and down upon my erection. I held her hands firmly, and she did the same to mine, as we tried to catch a rhythm together. I ground my hips in a constant circle as Lisa continued bouncing, wanting to create as much movement and excitement as possible for her.
Lisa squealed and cried in lust as she started bouncing faster. It truly was a beautiful sight, to see her face awash with passion, her breasts hopping and romping about wildly, her wet hair flying, as my hard cock filled her up.
Still grasping my hands, Lisa brought her own hands to my chest and leaned against it for support as she continued impaling herself upon my shaft. I still rotated my hips, and occasionally jutted them upward, which always brought her a quick jolt of erotic pleasure. We had caught a rhythm.
"Let go," Lisa breathed, still bouncing. I complied, releasing her hands. She responded by placing her hands underneath my arms and then my shoulders, and bringing me up into a seated position. Lisa embraced my body with her arms and wrapped her long legs around my waist, but still managed to keep my shaft inside her the whole time.
In this position, both of us sitting up, our faces were directly in line with one another. This gave us the chance to share another kiss. Of course, we took that opportunity.
As Lisa continued her bouncing action, I reached downward and roughly gripped her bottom. Using my strength, I made her bounce even faster, which only increased the already heated passion between us.
When Lisa screamed against our shared kiss, I knew that her orgasm was imminent. I waited a few seconds for her explosion to commence. When it did, I let myself go as well.
Both of us writhed together in mutual climax, clutching and embracing each other very tightly. I now had one hand on her back and the other upon her bottom, squeezing it very gently and soothingly. Both of Lisa's arms were around my shoulders and neck, hugging me like a prized possession.
My mind in a daze, and sapped of most of my strength, I pulled my mouth away from hers and let out a warm, contented sigh. Lisa sighed as well, and then gave me a soft kiss.
"I love you, Jeremy."
I smiled at her. "I love you too, sweetheart. Now... and forever.We embraced again, but this time slowly went down to the mattress and rolled onto our sides, facing each other. It was time for a much needed rest!
After regaining our strength, Lisa and I got up and went back to the restroom, and actually took a real and complete shower. We started one earlier - kind of - and now just finished it off. I washed her hair, which I really enjoy doing, and then she washed mine. Afterwards, Lisa and I dried off and then had a snack, before heading off to bed... where the two of us made love together, again.
I really do lead a charmed life.
[The End] | 4 |
5,831 | Hypno Celeb 37: Daisy Fuentes and Kennedy | Hatred was too strong a word for how Kennedy felt about Daisy Fuentes. Envy, definitely. Maybe a little anger. Kennedy was rather jealous of Daisy's good looks and the way she charmed the audience. Those long legs, the dress with the slit along the legs, the long dark hair framing her beautiful face. She was the kind of woman that begged other women to hate her. Unlike most other women, though, Kennedy had a way of getting even.
She was backstage at a taping for MTV, watching Daisy wrap up a video set. Kennedy wore a pair of silver pants and a matching coat. Her curly black hair frizzled around her and a pair of her trademark big-framed glasses covered her face. She watched as the director yelled "cut" and the shooting wrapped. Daisy walked over to the refrigerator just off-stage and Kennedy decided it was time to make her move. "Hey, Daisy," she said, walking up behind the Latina woman.
"Hi," Daisy nodded back. She and Kennedy didn't really know each other well, but she didn't judge people by reputations alone and kept her mind open. "What're you doing here?"
"Looking for you," Kennedy said, which was the truth. "Heard about that Olympic special they want you on, thought you might want some info."
"Oh, yeah, I heard you were at Nagano. How was it?"
"Eventful," Kennedy said. She watched as Daisy poured herself a coke. A director suddenly called for Daisy from the set, needing a last-minute sound check. As Daisy left, Kennedy reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. She tipped it into the drink, a bright pink that soon faded into the dark color. It looked completely normal by the time Daisy came back. She immediately took a long sip. "So, what'd you want to talk about?"
"Let's sit over here," Kennedy suggested, pointing to a couple of vacant chairs. She and Daisy sat down and Kennedy began to talk about her Nagano trip. Daisy continued to sip at the drink as Kennedy talked. She didn't notice Kennedy's staring at her. In fact, she was beginning to notice very little. A fuzziness filled her mind and her entire body felt suddenly lethargic. The sounds around her faded away, with the exception of Kennedy's voice. The drink slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.
Kennedy had found the drug in a small village just outside of Nagano. She had been wary of its claims, until she had seen the shopkeeper demonstrate it on her boss. The formula was quite old, but worked exceptionally well, cutting off the willpower and rendering a person compliant to someone else's will. This was the first time Kennedy had decided to use it on someone since getting it and she was pleased at the results. "Daisy, can you hear me?"
"Yes," Daisy replied. She had a faraway look on her face and appeared totally relaxed.
"Daisy, will you do anything I say?"
"Anything you say."
"Daisy, stand up and follow me." Kennedy began walking down the hallway, the entranced Daisy behind her. The two VJs made their way to a small, deserted office. Kennedy knew the occupant wouldn't be in for a while and they were guaranteed some privacy. The office wasn't opulent, but it did have something Kennedy wanted: A long padded sofa. Kennedy began to strip, pulling off her jacket and pants as Daisy stood, oblivious, in the middle of the room. Kennedy pulled off her bra, showing her small breasts and slid her panties down, exposing the Republican elephant tattoo just above her pelvic region.
Sitting down and preparing herself, Kennedy gave an order to Daisy. "Strip, Daisy. And as you strip, feel yourself growing more and more excited towards me. As you strip, you will be hot and you will want sex. With me. Now. Strip."
Daisy pulled the straps off her shoulders, one at a time. The dress first fell to her waist, letting her braless breasts fall free. She then pushed it down her legs. She slid the dark panties down her legs and stood nude. Kennedy beckoned her over and Daisy obediently approached. Kennedy took her in her arms and pulled her down, kissing her. It was a warm kiss, the two pushing their lips and tongues together to mix passion. They pulled closer, Daisy pushing Kennedy against the back of the sofa.
Kennedy lowered them both down to the sofa, pushing Daisy on her back. She pulled off her glasses and buried her head in between Daisy's breasts. She massaged one mound with her hand and kissed the other. She suckled the nipple, enjoying the feeling as it tightened in her grasp. She squeezed the other breast as she mouthed, eliciting a moan from Daisy.
Kennedy moved down Daisy's body, pushing her down the couch as she kissed the sunken belly. She kissed the dark patch before putting her mouth right up to the pussy. She began to lick at it, moving her tongue in slow motions around the twat. It intensified the pleasure Daisy was beginning to feel. She writhed on the couch, her hair falling past the edge and to the floor as Kennedy ate her out. Kennedy ran her hands up and down Daisy's thighs as she continued, her tongue beginning to fill with sweet taste. Daisy threw her head back as she came, spilling onto Kennedy's waiting mouth.
Kennedy climbed up Daisy's body, pulling her up so her head was safe on the couch. She straddled Daisy and lowered her pelvis onto her face. Daisy began to lick, hesitantly at first, with slow jabs, then faster, her tongue working in and out. Her fingers found Kennedy's ass and squeezed it, as Kennedy ran her fingers up and down the tattoo, as if that would help her cum faster. She rocked gently on Daisy, her asscheeks bouncing on the other woman's breasts. Daisy matched the rhythm with licks of her tongue as Kennedy felt herself begin to release. She spilled right onto Daisy, her body trembling as she did.
Kennedy quickly dressed and wiped Daisy's face off. The effect of the drug would wear off soon and Daisy would wake up with no memory of what had happened. Kennedy walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She smiled as she walked down the halls, wondering at Daisy's reaction to waking up naked in a strange room.
Kennedy might not have been so happy if she knew that she wasn't the only one who had the formula. Someday, perhaps soon, the piper was going to collect. | 3 |
7,207 | Peeler RP: HypnoWho - Part 9 | Jenny, Stephana and Alec watched TV most of the night; Lisa begged off saying she had to do some schoolwork and she went upstairs. Jenny had the feeling that Lisa was avoiding her due to their conversation in her bathroom; she wasn't sure what to do about that. She hoped Lisa would work out whatever it was that was bothering her.
When Stephana excused herself to go upstairs for the evening, Jenny decided it was time to talk to her father about their future; namely when they could continue their incestuous affair.
When the coast was clear, she walked over to her father and slumped down beside him on the leather couch, making sure her thigh touched his and her left breast pressed against his arm. Being this close to him was torture. She'd experienced such intimacy with him but she knew that their affair would have to be a secret.
"Sorry if I broke up something there in the kitchen after dinner."
"No, in fact, I'm glad you came in," her father answered her as he swung his arm over her head and draped loosely around her shoulders as he turned his body slightly toward her.
"Is Lisa still upstairs?" he asked her.
"I think she's still studying. I saw her light on in her room when I was up there before."
Without warning she leaned into him and kissed him on the mouth hard. She felt her father respond; felt him return the kiss. She pulled away from him and ran her hand up and down his chest.
"I could wait up tonight. We could be quiet." She hoped he would agree and come to her bedroom when Stevie was asleep. His love was like a narcotic in seemed. Her euphoria had lasted all afternoon from their first lovemaking but it was beginning to wear off.
"Not tonight, baby. I have to go into the office early tomorrow and I'd kinda planned on being with Stephana tonight." Jenny's heart fell in her chest. "But tomorrow night....that you're really going to enjoy."
Her father's voice titillated her. It sounded like he had some plan for them to be alone together. She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling so close to him. Like she never thought she would have again with a man.
"Jenny?"
"Hmmmm."
"Bougainvillea."
Jenny felt the world slip away.
***********************
"Jenny, Jenny? Wake up." Thornton softly shook his daughter and she came up slowly out of the trance he had placed her in with her keyword.
"Did I fall asleep?" she asked as she sat up beside him.
"I guess so. I must have wore you out today?"
Jenny rose to his teasing. "I'm ready for another workout whenever you are. You sure you can't sneak out tonight?"
"Tomorrow, tomorrow." Thornton promised as got up from the couch. "I'll see you then and explain it all to you."
Thornton made his way upstairs, happy with the new programming he had had to instill in his daughter to make his fantasy session come true the next night.
He'd re-awakened her natural lesbian desires, magnified them. When he brought her to Stevie, she'd interact with his wife like Jasmine had.
He'd taken away the fear of peer pressure surrounding her bi-sexual activities which he had used that afternoon; no hang-ups would prevent her from enjoying herself with Stevie and himself. As a failsafe, to override any inhibitions she might have about making it with her stepmother, he'd given her a deep fantasy about joining him and Stephana in sexual acts; she would only remember the fantasy when he activated it with another keyword before he took her to their bedroom the following night. In effect, to her it would seem like she'd always wanted it.
Later that night, after he and Stephana made love, he would expand her desires to include Jenny, so she would welcome his daughter to their bed as if it was an everyday occurrence.
He couldn't help the excitement he felt as he saw the hot times ahead.
***********************
Jenny finished watching the news and watched some David Letterman but her mind couldn't stay focused and she decided to call it a night. Turning out the downstairs lights, she made her way up the staircase.
In the upstairs hallway, she saw a light was still on in her father's bedroom. Also the door to Lisa's room was open a crack and her light was still on. She thought about her stepsister again and this time found her desire for Lisa back and stronger than even last night. It was like someone had turned off a switch and now had turned it back on.
'Lisa tried to come onto me,' she thought. If she'd read the signs correctly. She thought she had.
Confused but excited, she walked down to Lisa's door and pushed it open. Lisa was laying on her stomach on her bed, propped up on her elbows as she read a textbook that was opened before her. Being focused on her studies, she didn't notice that Jenny had entered the room.
Jenny took the opportunity to admire her developing teenage body. Lisa was wearing a pair of white cotton panties and a T-shirt which she probably slept in. Due to the arch in her back and the position of her arms, her T-shirt had ridden halfway up her midriff.
Lisa looked so cute, Jenny wanted to eat her....literally. The half moon cheeks of her little round butt were clearly defined as her panties had been pulled down into the cleft of her bottom. Her legs were slender and graceful and still had the look of some baby fat; Jenny was sure they would be very soft. Jenny could see the small bumps of Lisa's backbone in the portion of her lower back that was exposed.
'Let's see how she likes being come on to,' Jenny thought as she slowly walked toward her bed.
Lisa finished the chapter she had been reading and decided to stretch and as she moved to get up she saw Jenny standing by her bed. Startled, she drew herself up in a sitting position, hurriedly and awkwardly.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you like that," Jenny said. "I saw your light on and wondered what you were up to."
"Just studying," Lisa said as she regained her composure.
"Whatcha studying?" Jenny said and sat down on the side of the bed.
"Um, trig," Lisa said as she pulled her T-shirt down out of habit.
"Oh, I hated trig!" Jenny laughed and Lisa smiled too, happy that they had something in common. "You know when you get to college, it's totally different. You can schedule your classes for when you want them and get your studying done in the afternoon and then party every night."
"I'm thinking about going to B.C.," Lisa offered.
"Yeah, that would be great," Jenny said. "Close to home and I hear they've got lots of hunky guys over there. By the way, I haven't asked you about what you've got going on. Do you have a boyfriend?"
Lisa felt like the room got warmer as Jenny steered into her personal life. After almost making a fool of herself earlier, she didn't want to reopen that can of worms.
"Well, no," Lisa said truthfully.
Then Jenny really shocked her. "Well, do you have any girlfriends?" she asked very casually. As Lisa tried to think of some way to respond, she felt Jenny's hand fall on one of her legs. Jenny smiled at her.
"Listen, Lisa, I might have misread what happened today in my bathroom but I don't think I have. I saw the way you were looking at me and I'm pretty sure that towel didn't fall off the rack."
Jenny's hand began stroking her thigh and Lisa realized her plan had worked after all. Her stepsister had picked up on her intentions and she sure didn't appear to have a problem with it.
Jenny leaned closer to her and brought her face close, her eyes swept up and down Lisa's face. Lisa tilted her head slightly and Jenny's lips found hers. Lisa's body trembled as her stepsister nibbled on her lower lip; it felt electric.
Jenny broke their first kiss and stood up.
"I'll leave my door open. When you think it's safe, come see me and I'll show you what it can be like." Jenny walked to the door and before leaving she said, "I like the way you kiss."
After Jenny had left, Lisa fell back on her bed, her heart still racing.Lisa lay there for several minutes imagining sucking on Jenny's tits and performing oral sex on Jenny's blonde pussy. Lisa had never done that to another girl before but she knew how good it felt. Lisa got up off the bed and went into her bathroom, pulling her nightshirt up and over her head. She wanted to get ready for Jenny; it felt like she was going on a date. She turned on her shower and while the water came to temperature, she studied herself in the mirror. Her hair looked OK, she'd just comb it out. She'd give herself a douche, get her body clean, front and back, with soap in the shower. Put on a little Body Mist perfume. Maybe a little pink lipstick. Her thin, gold ankle bracelet that always made her feel sexy. The mirror began to fog over as hot steam from the shower pervaded the rest of the room and Lisa set about getting ready. Down the hall, her mother was just finishing cleaning herself up after a strenuous lovemaking session with her man. Satisfied that she was presentable again, she turned out the light and went back to bed. She pulled the covers up and slid her nude body up against her husband's reclining figure. She raised her head so he could slide his arm around her and moved her right leg over his legs as she snuggled close. "Penny for your thoughts," she said as she ran her hand over his chest. 'If she knew my thoughts right now, she'd probably go into shock,' Thornton thought. He'd been laying there thinking again about watching her and his daughter doing some very erotic activities together. "Hmmm, I was just thinking about how lucky I am," he answered. He'd even been thinking about bringing Lisa into the mix. He wondered if Lisa and her mother would share the same exulted high that he had had with his own flesh and blood. Was it possible to instill that kind of... deviant enjoyment. Thornton had to admit fucking his own daughter was deviant. Certainly understandable since she was a walking wet dream. But as he lay there, he could not remember ever thinking about Jenny sexually until he was on his way for Europe and the hypnosis training. Now he couldn't stop. Stevie's massaging hand dipped lower on his torso and bumped into the top of his stiff, re-awakened sex organ. He felt her fingers trace the outline of his lengthy member. "Alec! God, you know this thing is supposed to go down after we make love." She pressed her firm silicone tits harder into the side of his chest. "Would you like to do it again, my love?" That had hardly ever happened in their marriage with the exception of the first few months they had been married. But since Alec's return, they had both seemed to be sexually overcharged. He had surprised and delighted her by bringing Jasmine into their bed. And when they had been making love, he had told her he would be bringing another woman into their bed soon. "I'd like to, baby," he said, "but I need to get some sleep. But before that, I need to talk with you about an aardvark." Stevie fall off into her trance as he spoke her keyword. He began speaking softly do her, reforming her morals, opening her mind to things she would never have considered, planting a lust for Jenny. Lisa stopped outside of her mother's bedroom and listened at the door. There was no light showing from underneath their door and she could not hear any carnal sounds like on Friday night. She was more excited now than when she had heard the groans of the three-way that night. Before pulling on the short silk robe she'd chosen to wear, she'd spent a few moments petting herself, rubbing her excited pussy in anticipation of her journey to Jenny's bed. It had helped dissolve some last minute jitters. Taking a deep breath, she moved down the hall to Jenny's door. Lisa slipped into Jenny's room and closed the door behind her. Jenny's room had a small entry hall and Lisa could see a golden glow around the corner. Licking her dry lips, she walked to the corner and stepped into the bedroom itself. The scene before her was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen; it was like out of a movie or one of those titillating romance novels her mother used to be seen reading. Jenny's bed was bathed in the rich light of upwards of twenty candles positioned on both bed side lamptables and a clothes chest at the foot of the bed. "You like the candles?" Lisa saw Jenny sit up on the bed; the golden light from the candles had blended her blonde hair into the background of a collection of pillows at the top of the bed. The covers fell away from her round breasts when she sat up and she proudly let them remain exposed to Lisa's gaze. "They're great," Lisa said as she walked over to the side of the bed, "It looks....dreamy in here." "I'm glad you like it. The ceiling lamp was just too bright and I didn't want it to be pitch dark." Jenny's eyes ran up and down Lisa's form. "I wanted to see you," she added as she rose up onto her knees. The covers fell completely away at this point and Lisa marveled at Jenny's toned body in the flickering candlelight. Her slender shoulders - her grapefruit sized tits - the outline of her ribcage and her flat stomach - the v-shaped, untanned area dipping into the junction of her thighs. Jenny exuded sexuality out of every pore. "Take your robe off," Jenny said as she pulled her long blonde hair back over her shoulders. Lisa undid the thin sash that held her robe closed and pulled the robe off her shoulders. Beneath it she was totally nude and as the robe fell away, Jenny was quick to compliment her. "Oooh, you've got such a cute little body, Lisa." Jenny couldn't wait to get her hands on her younger stepsister. The craving for another woman's touch was almost uncontrollable that night; much stronger than it even was with her college roommate lover. She walked on her knees across the bed and raised her hands to touch Lisa's petite, sloping breasts. Lisa nervously raised her hands in front of her and Jenny's fingers met Lisa's. Smiling at Lisa, Jenny interlaced her fingers with her stepsister's. "Just relax, Lisa. I'm going to make you feel sooooo good," Jenny whispered as she moved forward on her knees still more. At the same time, Jenny pulled Lisa's body into hers as she moved their entwined hands back behind her own body. With her back slightly arched, Jenny's orbulant tits squished against Lisa's heaving chest as she tilted her head and brought her lips onto Lisa's. Lisa nervousness melted away into ardor as Jenny began tenderly kissing her. Lisa experimentally pushed her tongue into Jenny's silky lips and felt it ride into Jenny's mouth. Her stepsister's tongue joined hers in a hot twirling dance before following Lisa's back into her mouth. As Jenny's tongue probed deeply into her oral cavity, Lisa felt Jenny's hands release her own. Jenny's athletic arms wrapped around Lisa's just above her elbows, effectively trapping them at her side, as her stepsister's hands explored her supple back. This only heightened Lisa's excitement. Her pussy was already slick from the excitement of her first lesbian experience but the way Jenny had taken control of her body felt strange and just as delicious. She'd felt the same sensation when Alec had pinned her shoulders to her bed that first night as he'd dry humped her into her second orgasm. His weight had rendered her helpless to move. Now, Jenny was doing the same without knowing it. Jenny's darting tongue exited her mouth and both gasped for air as their lips separated. "God, Jenny.....ooooo, I love it, I love you..." Lisa murmured as Jenny pulled her body tighter against her. Jenny's lips were kissing their way down her right jawline, back toward her ear. "Tell me what you like," Jenny whispered into her ear, "tell me what you're feeling....tell me what you want me to do." Jenny wanted Lisa to open up to her, to lay herself open without fear; that was what she enjoyed about her relationship with Amanda. "I...oh God, I love the feel of your arms around me." Lisa said in a rush. "I....my arms, I can't move my arms......and I like that, I don't know why." Jenny's lips began nibbling on her earlobe and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations as her hands grabbed Jenny's lower back. As Jenny began running her tongue around the hard cartilage of the girl's outer ear, she was analyzing Lisa's quick confession. She knew from her Human Sexuality class that many people found extra stimulation from the loss of free will during lovemaking. Perhaps, subconsciously, she had used the chance to lock fingers with Lisa to gain some control over her younger step-sibling. The more she thought about it, the more appealing her proposed role became. "Let's lay down," Jenny said as she relaxed her hug on Lisa and used her right arm to pull her across her body and the two of them slumped onto the bed, Lisa on her back with Jenny partially draped over her. Lisa's arms went around her neck as Jenny kissed her again. For several minutes they let their lips demonstrate their rising passion for each other. Jenny's right leg had moved over and between Lisa's and both were enjoying the stimulation of a thigh rubbing against their leaking slits. Lisa then felt Jenny's hand moving up her arm as she pulled away from her. Without saying a word, Jenny pushed her arms above her head. Soon, Jenny's left forearm was pinning Lisa's left hand beneath it while she gripped Lisa's right wrist. "What are you doing?" Lisa asked, although she knew. "I think you like this, don't you?Jenny said as she ran her right hand down the side of Lisa's flushed face and onto her slender neck. "You like me holding your hands like this. Knowing I can do whatever I want with you. Tonight, you'll let me."
Lisa's eyes didn't say to stop. Jenny ran her hand down onto the slightly raised area of Lisa's left breast; with her hands above her head, the girl's small tit mounds had flattened out considerably. Jenny's palm swirled over Lisa's small, dark, stiff nipples and her stepsister whinnied in pleasure.
"Your nipples are so hard," Jenny said huskily. "I'd like to suck them."
"Oh, yes....yes, please," Lisa encouraged Jenny as she raised her head and looked down between them.
Jenny scooted slightly down Lisa's reclining form and jerked her head up and back to send her hair over her left shoulder; she wanted Lisa to have an unobstructed view of her face. Her hand squeezed the flesh around Lisa's left nipple up into a small cone and moved her lips down onto it.
"Mmmmmmm, oh......oh....mmmmm," Lisa trilled as Jenny's tongue teased her sensitive nipple. The simulated restraint that she was allowing Jenny to exert over her and Jenny's oral ministrations combined to send shivers down her young body. She let her head fall back onto the mattress as she felt Jenny's mouth suck most of her tit into her hot mouth.
Jenny suckled on Lisa's soft titflesh as her right hand slid down Lisa's heaving flank. Lisa was humping her moist mons into her leg and Jenny wanted to heighten the girl's pleasure even more with her fingers. Letting Lisa's reddened teat free from her mouth, Jenny looked down to watch her fingers slide into Lisa's neatly trimmed muff and then over the edge to her juicy slit.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa," Lisa moaned sweetly as the fingers slowly masturbated her clit. Her gasps grew quicker and quicker. She imagined what else Jenny would do and make her do as the night progressed and it was enough to transport her into sublime release.
"OOOOOOH....AAAHHAAHHHAAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAHH!"
Lisa bucked her hips into Jenny's fingers as her first orgasm of the night broke over her like an ocean wave. Her body coiled as her muscles strained upward.
"Cum....aaahhhhh, Lisa.....oh, you cum so hard!" Jenny squealed as she watched her stepsister torque her body. She pressed her own blonde-fringed pussy tighter against Lisa's thrashing leg. The friction wasn't enough to get her off but she wanted to wait anyway.
She had more in store for her submissive stepsister. | 4 |
7,866 | The Wine Tasting (Parts 6-8) | "I need to shut the door right," she said, "or else the beasts get in. The door is broken, so you need to shut it in a certain way."
"O.K." I went down as she messed with the door.
The cellar was big, about the size of two large living rooms, but about twice as long as it was wide. The racks were all made of wood, and constructed to keep the bottles tipped slightly with cork towards the floor. You could easily read the label on any bottle, a convenience missing from most wine racks. Each rack had a small halogen light that illuminated the bottles in that rack. In all, it was extremely well designed. There was a set of track lighting overhead, but it was not on. The only light in the room was from the rack lights and the light from the ante-room. It was enough to see well, but not bright. Very pleasant, actually.
"Do you like it?" asked Winona from behind me.
"Yeah, it is very cool."
"Well, it is climate controlled to stay at about 55 - 60 degrees."
"That's not what I meant." I looked at her with a laugh.
"I know, it was a joke."
"Oh yeah."
"I just had that lighting installed. The track lighting I mean. It used to be some ugly fluorescent structure before."
"Is it not done yet?"
"No. Just needs a final check by the electrician."
I was looking at the bottles. There were hundreds of expensive and rare wines. Petrus 1982, Latour 1975, Mouton-Rothschild 1970, Lafite-Rothschild, 1945, and more, some were too dusty to read the label.
"What do you want to open?" she asked.
"Me? I don't know. There are so many good ones. I don't know that I can open such great wines just like that."
"Why not? There are hundreds. How about this one here. 1929, Haut-Brion."
"Are you joking?" I rushed over to her. I looked. It was indeed a '29 Haut-Brion. "That's extremely rare. It would be sacrilege to open that right now."
"I guess so. But I would. After all, you spent about this much on dinner."
"No way. I didn't spend almost four digits." We laughed. I gawked.
"Here. Latour 1961." And before I could object, she was opening it.
"Jesus, a 61 Latour. Perhaps the greatest Latour ever produced. How many do you have?"
"A couple of cases, maybe a few more."
"Shit! How did your Aunt get these?"
"She bought several cases of each First-Growth Bordeaux every year when they came out. Except on bad or mediocre years. She also went to auctions. She has been collecting for most of her life. Her father collected too, and he passed on a lot of wines to her."
She pulled a couple of glasses from an overhead glass rack.
As she reached up, I noticed her nipples perking up from the chill in the air. It wasn't the only thing perking up.
She poured us each some. We sipped from the pap of life.
"Wow. What an extraordinarily long, sweet finish." I said.
"Yeah. Very full-bodied. Has hints of chocolate and plum."
"And tobacco."
She hopped up and sat on the table in the center of the cellar. Her skirt was riding high. She tasted the wine again. "This is really spectacular."
"Do you have a white napkin?"
"Did you spill?" she asked, unconcerned.
"No I wanted to check out the color."
"Oh, of course. Let's see." She rummaged through some drawers.
"Well, actually, I don't. I could go back to the house."
"I'll go. I just don't want to pass up the opportunity to observe this fine wine. I might never drink this again."
"Wait. You can use my T-top. It's pure white."
"Um, O.K. If you say so." I stepped in front of her, and brought up my glass in front of her chest. Her chest was moving a bit quick. She seemed to sit up straight and push out her chest a bit as I came up. I looked through the glass. The diffraction of the glass let me see her cleavage, although my line of sight was more towards her bellybutton. I was extremely turned on, to say the least.
"How is it?" she asked, with a definite tone of mischief.
"It is… very roun - I mean, mature, uhhhh, definitely mature color, and… also it's clear, aged well in the bottle. It is a… beautiful color."
"Lemme see."
She put her hand under her shirt, and pushed out the bottom so she could look at her glass against it. I stepped back, and could see her stomach. It was firm and flat, well toned. She must work out a lot, I thought.
Suddenly, she let out a small cry. She had spilt some of her glass on her top, just below her right breast.
"Damn. I need to soak this quickly, or it's ruined."
"O.K., let's head back."
"No, there's a sink over there."
She got up and hurried over, holding her top to keep the wine from spreading.
"Hey, at least if it's ruined, you ruined it with a '61 Latour. That was probably about 25 bucks you spilt right there." She started laughing, and got the hot water running.The water rushed down her back again. It hit the bra back, at the same time Winona had undone it. It was like the river broke the dam. The water ran down to her skirt, where the wet spot was spreading to cover most of her ass. I wet the top again, as Winona let out a small moan. She had left the bra hanging, unclasped, on her. She turned around. Her breasts were still hidden from view by the loosely hanging bra. I took the top and put it above her breasts. The water ran down her chest, funneling through the channel between her boobs, and running down her firm tummy. She reached out and pulled my head into her breasts. It was the first time we had really ever touched besides hands, and it felt pretty damn good! I kissed those beautiful globes through the black bra. I could feel the nipples, they were rock hard.
She was undoing my tie, and then my shirt buttons, and soon she had ripped off my shirt. I stood up and sat her up on the marble counter.
"Oooh, cold!" she said.
"Sorry," I said and tried to help her off.
"No, it feels good," she said slowly. She looked me in the eyes.
"More water, Roberto."
I grabbed an empty bottle of wine that was nearby, gave it a quick rinse, and filled it. I brought it over, and slowly poured it over her breasts, still covered. The water soaked into her jean skirt. I poured more water over her smooth legs, which I couldn't resist reaching out and touching. She was sitting with her legs crossed, hands on the edge, leaning forward, eyes closed.
The water was everywhere. I filled another bottle. I made it just a bit hotter. As I turned back to her, she uncrossed her legs and spread them open a little. She pulled me over and pulled me to here, so I was standing in front of her. She pulled me in to her, and kissed me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. She was so fucking hot! She pulled me close, and my penis slammed into her crotch area. My trousers were probably busted from my penis trying to get out so much. I poured the bottle into the space where our chests met, and it pooled up between her breasts and my chest.
It overflowed and down our stomachs, and all on my trousers. For an instant, I wished they were off, because they were dry clean only. But then I thought, this is worth 20 pairs of trousers. Besides, I've washed trousers before by mistake and they - who the fuck cares!?!? On with the story.She must have sensed it, because she started to pull me up and down even more. "I'm gonna cuuum.." I managed to get out. "MmmmmHmmmmm…" she confirmed. I shot a huge load into her mouth. I was cumming for at least 30 seconds. I kept pumping, almost with no regard for her. She giggled. I let out some last thrusts which probably shoved my cock into her lungs, but she just giggled pleasurably. Apparently she swallowed. I withdrew from her mouth, and was surprised to see my cock was still hard. It was probably not going down for a while, it felt pretty tense. "Fuck me," she said. She got up and bent over the counter. I raised up her skirt, and rubbed my dick along her wet slit. "What about protection?" "I just finished my period a few days ago, we are safe." "In that way, at least." "Well, I'm clean, are you?" "Yeah. I guess we'll need to trust each other on that though." "If you would rather stop now…" I shoved my prick hard into her cunt. All the way in. She let out a deep growl. It was pretty tight, although not necessarily the tightest I have ever felt. But it was still good. I stayed in for a few seconds, and then started to pump her. I reached down, and inserted a finger into her ass, too. She liked that a lot. I started parallel stroking her again. Slow at first, but then as we became fully lubricated in there, I started grinding her. Her but was slapping against my hips, she was sprawled out on the counter. I realized I hadn't been cold for a while, even though we were still in the cellar, where it was about 58 degrees. Sex really warms you up! She reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart. I stroked like a wild animal. I left the finger in the ass, and could feel my dick pumping in and out through the thin membranes in there. It was very erotic. My dick popped out, and so I shoved it back in. I had already come in her mouth, and usually it take a while for my dick to want to come again, even though I was hard. I was pumping away for a few minutes, Winona was screaming. She was having a long fucking orgasm. Some chicks have a brief and extreme burst; others caught a big wave and rode it for a long time. Winona was of the latter type. "Mmmm…sssss…sssss!" she hissed. "Yeah, baby!" "Noo," she managed through her breaths. "Myy…asssshhh…." I thought she was hyperventilating. I pulled out. "Are you alright?" I said, breathing hard. "Yes, damnit… Fuck me…In the ass!" I wasted no time. I positioned her a little lower, hiked up the skirt a bit more, and pushed into her sweet anus. Man, it was tight. This was definitely the tightest hole, cunt OR ass, I'd ever been in. I slowly worked it in a little. Suddenly she reached back, and pulled me violently in her. She let out a scream. "Fuck, me, damnit!" I started pumping her asshole. I reached under and shoved a few fingers into her cunt, although I couldn't get a good angle for good thrusting. She was going wild. I was starting to feel a cum coming on. I pumped wildly. I pulled out, and turned her over onto her back again. I stuck my dick into her ass and started again. I reached over and grabbed the bottle. The top looked clean, and did not have a covering, and there were no nicks on the glass. I bent backwards and leaned back, holding myself up with one hand on the table behind. With the other hand, I took the bottle and slowly shoved it in to her cunt. It was a Burgundy style bottle, which means it gradually tapered from the top to the middle, where it was full round, rather than Bordeaux style, where it has a thin neck about 3 inches long and then quickly rounds out to its full width. The top of a wine bottle is about an inch wide, and about six inches down, it is about 2 or 2.5 inches wide. That's where I inserted the bottle to. Winona was exploding. She was shuddering, screaming, helping with the bottle, fingering her clit, you name it. We fucked like that for about another minute, during which Winona had a large peak. Once I saw she was coming down, I pulled out and started stroking. She was still laying with her back on the counter, grinding her hips. My first shot flew out and hit the wall past her head. The second one arced onto her breasts and stomach. I aimed the third shot at her cunt. It smacked against her lips. I was coming pretty hard. I had a sudden fascination with cumming in all her holes, so I pressed into her cunt briefly, and let out my fourth and fifth shots. I pulled out, and the sixth one came out as I was aiming for her ass. I pushed up against her anus, and let out a few more spurts, before pushing hilt deep into her ass and unloading the rest of my cum. I gently pumped her ass a little, with my now dying penis. She was breathing hard but making contented sounds. She had rubbed the cum that landed on her tits all over them while I was making my rounds delivering come elsewhere. "So you nailed me in every hole." "So I did." "That was something else." "Yeah." We let out some deep breaths. "So, how do I taste?" she asked. "Full bodied, rich, a bit plummy…" We both looked at the bottle of 1961 Latour, half-full. "Want some more wine, Roberto?" she asked with a grin. "You bet!" | 3 |
99,829 | EAT ME | _BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE!_
_BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE!_
Furball jumped off Nancy's lap at the strange noise coming from the coffee table and ran off to hide under some chair. Nancy leaned forward, grabbed her cell phone, and flipped it open. Seeing the call was from her friend Katie, she pressed the TALK button. "Hello!" she said.
"Hi Nancy!"
"Hey Katie! What's happening, girl?"
"You'll never believe what Dan bought after he got that promotion at Lotsatech."
"Some outrageously expensive guy-toy! Am I right?"
"Bingo! But it's so cool! It's a home matter replicator."
"Really? I heard everyone's into scanning THEMSELVES with those things and uploading themselves to the Internet. And creepy guys are downloading copies of girls and forcing them to be, like, sex slaves. Ewww! Those things ought to be illegal, Katie!"
"Well, well, well! Weren't you the one who downloaded a kitten from CNET last week and took the CD to Staples to make it?"
"But that's different. Furball is a kitty, and she's sooooo cute! Who wants to make a copy of another person? There's too many of us on the planet already! And don't they cost, like, millions of dollars for one of those things?"
"Nah! The price has been coming down. Technology is like that, Nancy--the price drops while the technology improves. At least until it becomes regulated. Dan found two on Ebay for just under ten grand for the pair: a scanner and an assembler."
"Well, I guess that's nice."
"And we're having a replicator party. Wanna come?"
"What's a replicator party?"
"You'll see," said Katie.
"I guess so. Sure! What should I bring?"
"Just yourself."
"Food? Snacks? Beer?"
"Nah. Food's covered. Just show up next Saturday."
"Okay," said Nancy. "Sure. Why not?"
***
Nancy knocked on Katie's front door at the appointed time. "Come in! Come in!" said Katie, ushering Nancy into the living room. "You know everyone, right?"
"Yeah!" said Nancy as she waved at Bob, Carol, Ted, and Alice who were sitting on the sofa chatting together. Cathy and Ronnie were talking in a corner. Fuschia and Jack were making eyes at each other next to the sliding glass patio door. Mindy was by herself as usual as she caught Nancy's eye.
"Care for a snack?" asked Katie.
"Sure!" said Nancy as Katie held up a large wooden tray with a large plastic bowl and several cups of dip on it.
"Aaaack!" screamed Nancy. "What the..."
In the bowl were miniature naked people. Nancy recognized miniature versions of everyone at the party: Ted, Alice, Mindy, Bob, Ronnie, and Carol.
"Yes," Katie laughed. "Everyone's there."
"I'm not sure..." Nancy stammered.
"Go on. Try one of us!" said Katie. "Dan and I are even in there."
Mindy had walked over to say "Hi! May I?"
"Help yourself!" said Katie as Mindy reached in and picked a miniature Dan out of the bowl, dipped him face down in the onion dip, shoved him in her mouth, and swallowed.
Nancy reached toward the bowl and hesitated. "Go ahead," said Mindy. "Try me. I think there's two of me left."
Nancy reached in the bowl and picked out one of two miniature "twins" of Mindy. Nancy held up the miniature Mindy--identical in appearance except that the miniature was about 6 inches tall. She looked up at the full-sized Mindy and said, "Is this really you?"
"It's a copy of me. All the details are right."
Nancy shrugged and said, "Okay, here goes..."
The tiny Mindy screamed, "No! Don't eat me! Please!"
Nancy slid Mindy into her mouth, head first and began to gag, and spit Mindy back out onto her hand.
"What's wrong?" said Katie.
"I can't swallow Mindy--even a 6-inch tall Mindy--whole. Can I chew her?"
"Noooo!" the little Mindy screamed.
"However you want," said Katie. "But if you close your eyes and start swallowing as soon as you put her in your mouth, she'll go right down. And try a little dip with her, that'll help."
Again, Katie dipped the little Mindy in the dip and put her in her mouth. Just her butt and legs were sticking out of Nancy's mouth, kicking and flailing. Nancy felt herself start to gag, and she bit down. Only Nancy could hear the gurgled scream come from within her mouth as she felt her mouth fill with blood. In a moment, she swallowed Mindy's upper body and head.
Katie then sucked Mindy's butt and legs in and chewed and swallowed.
Mindy laughed and quickly handed Nancy a tissue. "What?"
"You're dripping blood from your mouth."
Nancy quickly dabbed her mouth and chin, sopping up a tiny amount--or was it a large amount--of Mindy's blood that was trickling out the corners of her mouth.
"Well?" asked Katie, Mindy, and Dan who had formed a cluster around Nancy.
"Interesting," said Nancy. "What was it like, Mindy?"
"I'm dead," laughed Mindy. "No way to tell you."
"No," laughed Nancy. "I mean, were you copied? What did it feel like? And how was everybody miniaturized?"
"Well," said Mindy. "I just stepped into the copier, a light flashed, then I stepped out and joined the party like nothing had happened. A little later, Katie and Dan were serving miniature copies of me, along with the others here."
Dan added, "The replicator I bought has a reduction/enlarge feature. Uber fredashay, eh?"
"Care for another?" asked Katie.
"Sure!" said Nancy as she reached into the bowl and picked out a miniature Ronnie.
Again, Nancy dipped Ronnie in the dip and slid him into her mouth as he screamed, "God, No! Don't eat me!"
This time, Nancy slid him in and held him in her mouth. She momentarily fondled his tiny penis with the tip of her tongue, then closed her eyes and swallowed in one gulp. He went right down.
"See?" said Katie. "It gets easier."
"Now it's your turn!" said Dan.
"My turn?" asked Nancy suspiciously.
"Yup! Follow me."
"I..." Nancy stammered.
"Don't be a fraidy cat!" said Katie. "It takes just a second. You'll be back to the party in no time!"
"Okay," Nancy shrugged.
Dan called out, "Hey Cathy! You haven't been scanned yet either! C'mon you chicken!"
Nancy and Cathy followed Dan downstairs to the game room in the finished basement. In one corner stood a tall glass cylinder that looked like a prop out of some science fiction B-movie.
Nancy trembled and said, "You got first Cathy."
"Sure," Cathy shrugged and stepped unto the cylinder. "Will it hurt?"
"Nah," said Dan as he pressed a button on the machine. The glass door slid closed, a light flashed, and then the door slid open.
"How was it?" Asked Nancy as Cathy stepped out.
"Nothing to it," said Cathy. "Just a flash of light."
"Look here," said Dan pointing to an LCD screen. A static image of Cathy appeared on the screen, like in a 3D version of Adobe PhotoShop.
Dan moved a trackball around and clicked on a few places until the image of Cathy was naked. "I just deleted all synthetic elements from the scan, to remove all her clothes."
Dan also said to Cathy, "I also ran a virsuscan on you. You'll be pleased to know that you don't have cancer or any fatal diseases."
"Oh?" said Cathy. "That's good to know."
"Don't want to serve any tainted snacks," laughed Dan.
Dan then pulled a CD from a drive under the screen, and stepped over to a similar, but smaller, machine sitting on a table. "That was the scanner. I couldn't afford a full sized assembler, but this small one does what we need."
Again an image of nude Cathy appeared on the screen. An alert text box appeared on the screen read, "Unable to begin. Object exceeds physical dimensions of assembler."
Dan clicked on some icons on the top of the screen. "There! I reduced her to 10%." He clicked a few more times, and the machine began to hum and buzz.
A few minutes later, the door clicked open. Inside was five miniature naked copies of Cathy.
"Oh my!" gasped Cathy. "Can I see one?" before Dan could answer, Cathy reached in and gently picked one up. "Wow! Perfect detail! Even my mangled tattoo is there on..."
Nancy laughed, "On where, Cathy?"
Dan interrupted. "Your turn, Nancy."
Nancy shrugged and said, "Okay." Then she stepped into the scanner. She smiled at Dan and Cathy as Dan pressed the button and the door slid closed around her.
A violet light flashed, then she felt disoriented for a moment. The floor dropped away, then she landed with a THUD!
She was about to bang on the glass when something felt decidedly odd. She was naked. And she wasn't alone. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, then she saw herself. There were four others of her standing together in the copier, all naked.
"What the hell is going on?" they all said at once.Before any of them could answer, the door slid open. A giant hand reached in and scooped them up, placing them in a large, smooth stadium—no, a plastic bowl. Nancy stared at the four copies of herself and the five of Cathy who stood together in the bowl.
Looking up, a giant version of herself and of Dan were looking down into the bowl.
Nancy watched as the giant version of herself reached in and picked up one of the other copies of herself. "Wow! It really looks like me!" boomed the voice of the giant Nancy.
Nancy's smaller self was placed back in the bowl, and Dan carried them back upstairs where the party was in progress.
They all slipped and fell as their bowl was poured into another bowl containing all the other shrunken people. Nancy looked up into the room full of people—friends that she knew.
The others in the bowl, Ted and Carol and Mindy, came over to the newcomers. "They don't know what they've done!" said miniature Ronnie.
All the miniature Cathys rushed into miniature Ronnie's arms.
"They're going to eat us and kill us!" cried the remaining Mindy.
"We have to escape," said Ted, "We have to talk to Dan and tell him to stop eating us like snacks."
At that moment, someone reached into the bowl and lifted someone out. A moment later, Nancy saw her giant self reach in and pluck Ted out, swallowing him.
"Nooooo!" Nancy screamed with some of the others.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" they all started to scream from within the bowl. But their voices, it seemed, were too tiny to be heard by the full-sized people in the room.
Nancy and some of the other Nancys and the Cathys tried to scale the walls of the bowl, but the slick plastic was too slippery. As she slid back down, a hand reached in and grabbed her.
She froze in panic as a man's fingers squeezed her body a little too tightly. She was brought up to his face—Ronnie's face. "No!" she cried when he spread her legs with his thick fingers.
"You creep!" she yelled as he fingered her pussy with his fingers as thick as tree trunks.
She struggled as he dipped her, head first, in what felt to her like a swimming pool full of onion dip. Disoriented by being held upside down, her hair and face soaked in onion dip that had oozed into her nose and mouth, she coughed and spit out a huge mouthful of onion dip. Opening her eyes, she saw his gaping mouth come fast as he slid her in between his open lips. Closing his mouth around her torso plunged her into darkness.
"Don't eat me, Ronnie!" she screamed from inside his mouth. "It's me! Nancy! Don't eat me, Ronnie! Please!"
Nancy couldn't breathe. She was drenched in his saliva inside his mouth as his tongue caressed her torso, twisting her this way and that. The darkness inside his mouth was absolute, and the odor of his breath made her feel ill.
The warm wetness that engulfed her upper torso contrasted with the cold crisp air of her butt sticking out of his mouth as she flailed her legs wildly, trying to kick his chin or nose.
Suddenly, she felt herself being sucked in. Her butt, then her legs, and finally her feet slid past his wet, rubbery lips, and she slid down his throat.
By then, she was feeling light-headed from lack of air and from being crushed by his throat muscles as she was propelled down, down, down into his stomach.
Without warning, she was plunged into an ocean of vomit. The undiluted stomach acid set her eyes and pussy aflame. Kicking and flailing wildly, her lungs forced her to take a breath, only to inhale his stomach vomit, setting her lungs and throat on fire.
The pain! The intense pain seemed to last an eternity, until she finally began to feel numb all over. She began to float as the pain eased and her senses shut down. | 4 |
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119,119 | The Darkside Universe FAQ | ---------------------------
The Darkside Universe FAQ
---------------------------
FAQ Version: 0.17
FAQ Updated: 02/07/2000
Covering up to Episode: USAN 17.
* Indicates new material since the previous FAQ.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
=======================================================================
I. Darkside's Motto and Theme.
1. What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories?
2. What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories?
II. About the Author.
1. Who is KTM?
2. What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person?
3. What are her favorite kinds of stories?
4. What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories?
5. Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories?
* 6. Does she write any other kinds of Fiction?
* 7. How can I contact the author?
* 8. Where can I find the Stories?
III. About the Stories.
* 1. Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a plan?
2. Has the plan been altered?
3. Will the stories be published?
4. What are the planned episodes and Volumes?
5. Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside?
6. Can I draw fan art based in the series?
IV. About the World of the Darkside.
* 1. Who are the characters in the different Volumes?
2. What can the Power Team members do?
3. What are the Towers?
4. What is Imperial Law?
5. What are some of the Codes?
6. What is the Imperial Justice system (in a nutshell)?
7. What's the deal with these Observers?
V. About the Observers.
1. What is the Rod?
2. Huh? A what-laced whosit?
3. And it was sent by whom?
4. So what are Master Types?
5. Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar]
6. What is Ultra Energy?
7. What is the Multiverse?
8. Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside?
9. What about Rebecca?
10. What is The Experiment?
11. Why are the Observers off-limits?
VI. Q & A section.
1. Author's questions for the reader.
2. Questions from readers; answered.
=======================================================================
I. Darkside's Motto and Themes.
(1) What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories?
To Quote from Nicolo Machiaveli's "The Prince", 1513 C.E.:
"There is nothing more difficult to plan, more doubtful of
success nor more dangerous to manage than the creation of
a new system. For the initiator has the enmity of all who
would profit by the preservation of the old institutions
and merely lukewarm defenders in those who would gain by
the new ones. The hesitation of the latter arises in part
from the fear of their adversaries, who have the laws on
their side, and in part from the general skepticisism of
mankind which does not really believe in an innovation
until experience proves it's value. So it happens that
whenever his enemies have occasion to attack the innovator
they can do with the passion of partisans while the others
defend him sluggishly, so that the innovator and party
are alike vulnerable."
(2) What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories?
An exploration of the concepts of "good" and "evil" in an
atmosphere that doesn't shy away from the sexual elements of those
concepts. The attempt is to see how the definitions can change
according to the context. Or, as an astute reader said: "a synergy
between relativistic good and evil".
II. About the Author.
(1) Who is KTM?
KTM are the initials (sorta) of the author of the Darkside series.
It is the way she signs the drawings she does for her own pleasure.
She uses her initials because she wants to publish professionally
someday in the "straight" fiction field.
(2) What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person?
"Eileen Stone" is the pseudonym/handle that KTM uses online.
(3) What are her favorite kinds of stories?
She prefers to read Science Fiction and Fantasy stories, but isn't
afraid of trying other genres if they're well written.
(4) What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories?
She likes Science Fiction and Fantasy erotica, as well. However,
she doesn't turn away any sexy story if it has a good plot, well
described characters, and displays a good command of the language
(and basic text formatting).
(5) Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories?
KTM loves to write, and wants to do so professionally. She writes
the Darkside series in order to hone her craft. It's her first try
at erotica, and it's her way of giving something back to the USENET
alt.sex.stories.* hierarchy from which she has derived much enjoyment
and inspiration.
*(6) Does she write any other kinds of Fiction?
She does write short stories and is working on a novel or three in
the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres (big surprise, there). She's
also in the Critters Online SF/F/H Workshop. She's won a couple of
online contests for her short stories that she's proud of.
*(7) How can I contact the author?
[email protected], [email protected], or ICQ #2117093.
*(8) Where can I find the Stories?
[PLEASE! Do *NOT* write and ask for any of the episodes. As a
rule KTM will *NOT* send them, as that would leave her liable if a
minor is on the other end of the mail. All you'll get is a form
letter that gives you the information that's included below...]
* First off, try the ASSTR archives for Stories and Art:
"ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/World_of_the_Darkside/" Some
author created artwork relating to the stories can be found there.
The Web version of the author's site can be found at
"http://www.asstr.org/~World_of_the_Darkside"
The author is pleased the Darkside Stories can be found at a
classy private archive called the Domain of Darkness, at:
"http://www.domainofdarkness.com/stories.html"
* Search the web for "The Grey Archive", currently located at:
"http://www.greyarchive.com" Look under the "Paranormal"
Category for the Darkside.
Try DejaNews under "Darkside: USAN". If the most recent database
doesn't show it, try the older one. Another way would be to search
for "Eileen Stone" and look for the alt.sex.* newsgroups.
And finally, check alt.sex.stories.moderated periodically.
III. About the Stories.
*(1) Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a Plan?
There is a detailed, overall plan in outline form, that carries
the stories not only through this Volume of 20 stories, but two more
besides. (Several Mini series were also in the plan, but it's doubtful
that she will get to them. Instead she will expand the current story
(like with #16) to give sufficient background. #13 will probably be
next elaborated on; the short version made the story suffer.) The plan
goes decades into the future, and covers the way the characters change
and grow. (Something that is considered vital by the author for a
good story.)
(2) Has the Plan been altered?
No. Things are progressing right on schedule. The Darkside was
first created as a freeform Role-playing game, with adult nuances.
Such an environment encourages character development. The stories
are not session by session, of course. A great deal of editing and
alteration was needed.
(3) Will the stories be published?
Unsure. Print publishers don't like to publish stories that can be
found for free on the net. The main Darkside storyline was KTM's
way of giving back to the net. She didn't write it with the
expectation that it be published, but she would be pleased if it was.
(4) What are the planned episodes and Volumes?
This is for the current Volume: The United States of Anarchy.
Vol: EP: Episode Title, [Notes]. * = Released on the net.
------------------------------------------------------------
USAN 01* The Boy in the Attic.
02* Indian Cavern.
03* Robert's Revenge.
04* The Dark Palace [Initial Control, Springfield, Iowa].
05* Gifts of Power.
06* Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned.
07* The Spreading Darkness, [1st Expansion: SW of Great Lakes].
08* She Blinded Me With Science, [Planning for the Future].
09* A Little Power is a Dangerous Thing.
10* When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Play.
11* Within The Fist of Darkness, [2nd Expansion: NE America].
12* Braving The Fimbul Winter, [First Trucker Society].
13* Un-Pleasant Valley, [Testifiers].
14* The Slither-Thing, [Finally explained].
15* Green Eyed Wanderer.
16* The Charge Keeper, a & b [The Mage Clans].
17. They're Coming to Take me Away, [Mind Control].
18 The Mystic Woods, [Second Trucker Society].
19 The White Tower, [Rebecca & Imperial Law].
20 Imperial States of America, [3rd Expansion: USA].
USAN's aim was to show the pre-Imperial anarchy, and how Robert
starts to tame it. The next Volume will be called the Imperial States
of America (ISAM), and will cover what America under the Empire is like,
and shows how he moves on the rest of the world. A third volume would
be Imperial Earth (IMER), and show what happens to the Darkside once
Robert gets his wish. What's next? Maybe the Empire will head for
the Stars.
(5) Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside?
Hmmmm. Perhaps later, when more is revealed.If you'd like to do so, and you are using characters KTM invented, they will be considered Alternate Histories, and should be labeled as such. A Story may be declared "Canon" if KTM decides that it fully fits in the Story World. Secondly, The Observers themselves are off-limits unless they are depicted in the act of Observing from the Bubble. The Rod, however, is not off-limits.
(6) Can I draw fan art based in the series?
This would be welcome. If anyone wants to send the author their drawings, feel free. Just be aware that by submitting the art, you are granting permission for the work to be posted freely to the asstr site, but that such submission doesn't constitute a guarantee that it *will* be posted for whatever reason. The Characters are copyright of KTM, but the Artwork will be copyright of the creator.
IV. About the World of the Darkside.
(1) Who are the characters in the different Volumes?
Vol: EP: Character, (Episode #) Further information, [Notes].
-------------------------------------------------------------
USAN 01. Robbie Black, (2) Robert Black.
01. Mom, (3) Maggie Black.
01. Sissy, (3) Susan Black.
01. Wolf, (3) granted Power, [Wolf Morphed], (11) [Power Team].
01. Skull, (3) Deceased.
01. Bear, (3) Deceased.
01. Red, (3) Rodney, (3) Deceased.
02. Rod, The. [Item/Character].
04. Traci, (Kitten), [Cat Morphed].
05. Jerry Conners (7) Blur, [Power Team].
05. Mr. Duncan, [Townie, from Winneshiek County, Iowa].
05. Rebecca White, [White Power holder].
05. Slither-Thing, The. [???] (14) [Revealed].
06. "Ugly", Destructionist MT, [Observer]. (14)
06. Rider, Creationist MT: TM, [Observer]. (14)
06. Kruegar, Ultra-Entity, [Observer]. (14)
07. Titan, (9) Hank Dodds, (10) Stripped of his power.
07. General Stark. (11) Deceased.
07. Lt. Dan Jenners (10) Converted to the Empire. (12) Captain.
07. Mr. Miller, Iowa's Governor, [Iowa Administration].
07. Don Corello, Mafia, [Illinois Administration].
08. Liz Tyler, [Imperial Science Minister].
08. Mariko Michaelson, [Chemist].
09. Karen Fischer, Osprey, [Power Team].
09. Charity Jones, [Power Team].
09. Zechiel (Zeke) Peters, Teke, [Power Team].
09. Ali "Luke" Al-Raji, Sapphire, [Power Team].
09. Joanne Barrett, Lady Web, [Power Team].
09. Tim Melaui, Warp, [Power Team].
09. Paris Simmons, Seeker, [Power Team].
10. Alyssa, (4) Orphan, (10) Abused by Titan, (14) Slither-Thing bait, [ex-Imperial Page].
11. Sergeant Brad Donovan, [Stark's Rat Platoon].
11. Corporal Steven Leigh, [Stark's Rat Platoon].
11. Corporal Benny "Mac" MacFee, [Stark's Rat Platoon].
11. Private Doug Renes, [Stark's Rat Platoon].
11. Private Kyle Simms, [Stark's Rat Platoon].
11. Tom King, [Town Councilman].
11. Tanya King, [Tom King's daughter].
11. Carol King, [Tom King's niece].
12. Gary Miller, [Captain; Knights of the Open Road Society].
12. Candy Kane, [Member; K.O.R.S.].
12. Kieth Thomas, [Sheriff; Eagle, CO].
12. Sondra Eriks, Healer, (14) [Minister of Health, & Lady Healer].
13. Janelle Masters, [Winged Flyer].
13. Josh Masters, [Telekinetic Flyer].
13. Benjamin, [Charismatic Power].
13. Reverend Browne, [Fundamentalist Christian].
13. Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, Raphael, Israfel, Azrael, Sariel.
14. Tari Bates, Telepath, [Minister of Psionics].
14. Henry Black II, newborn son of Robert and Maggie.
15. Rodger ?, the Green Eyed Wanderer, [Gaea cursed].
15. Sasha, Rodger's daughter [And pregnant by him].
16. Elias Dusten, [The last Battery].
16. Brock and Mark Medford.
16. Justen St. Ives, and his gardener, Marge.
16. Joshua Cross and Hyacinth Storm, descendants of Elias.
* 17. Phillip Carmichael, [Mental Patient/Mind Controller].
* 17. Rex Harrison Timmons, [Mental Patient/Healer].
* 17. Christina Spenser, [Daughter of a Boston Senator].
(2) What can the Power Team members do? [] = Part-time member.
Blur: A standard super speedster, with a superhero complex.
Titan: Strong & nearly invulnerable; a "brick". Dis-empowered.
Osprey: "Winged" flight & semi-invulnerable; slight telekinesis.
Charity: Receptive and projective empathy; a Sensitive.
Teke: Telekinetic; levitates, lifts, shields, and shoves.
Sapphire: Controlled powered flight, & blue energy blasts.
Lady Web: Truth-teller & mind-linker; Not fully telepathic (yet).
Warp: Line-of-sight combat teleporter teen with packet bombs. ;&>
Seeker: Long range, detailed clairvoyance; slightly precognitive.
[Wolf: Half-animal morph; strength, speed, & natural weapons.]
(3) What are the Towers?
They are colored Towers of the Black Palace that represent the
Headquarters of different branches of the Imperial Government.
Whether they stand for the Administration, a Ministry, or Institute,
or both, the branches will use the colored Towers as their symbol
throughout the Empire. [A Ministry is dedicated to the Control and
Direction of a thing, while an Institute is dedicated the Study and
Propagation of a thing.]
Vol: Ep: Tower: Function, Supervisor, [Notes].
--------------------------------------------------------------------
USAN 07 Black Administration Robert Black [Government].
08 Copper Science Ministry Liz Tyler [Science Research].
14 Silver Mental Health Tari Bates [Psionic Institute]
14 Gold Ministry of Health Sondra Eriks [Healer Institute]
16 Blue Ministry of Magic Joshua Cross [Magic Institute].
[19 White Ministry of Justice Rebecca. -Forthcoming]
(4) What is Imperial Law?
As post-Colonial American Law was based on British Common Law, the
Legal Code of the Empire is based on 'American Common Law'. This is
the foundation that Robert is using to govern his Empire. He changes
aspects of this Code as the situation seems to warrant, and is having
his decisions recorded for future reflection and application.
Punishments are generally; overseen public service, or public works
(a chain gang). Severe punishments may merit death, immediately
delivered by the Justice at the end of the Accused's appeals.
Sometimes a more creative punishment will be crafted to fit the crime.
(5) What are some of the Codes?
Vol: Ep: Law Code: Status, [Notes]. (LEO=Law Enforcement Officer)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
USAN 4. Indenturement: Legal, [Used to pay public or private Debts].
6. Drug use and sale: Legal, [Now, it's regular commerce].
6. Sex-acts, Consensual, for pay: Legal [Regular commerce].
6. Sex-acts, Consensual, *Any*: Legal.
6. Child Abuse, (under 12): Illegal, [Harshly punished].
10. Sex-acts, Non-consensual: Illegal, [Harsh punishments].
12. Abuse of Power by Military/LEOs: Illegal, [Harshly punished].
13. Murder: Illegal, punishable.
13. Property Damage: Illegal, punishable.
13. Preliminary Court System established
14. Recognition of 'Sensitivity' as a mental condition.
17. Abuse of Power by Medical/Caregivers: Illegal, punishable.
?
(6) What is the Imperial Justice system (in a nutshell)?
Courts are presided over by a Justice. Major court officials are an
Accuser, functioning as Prosecutor, and an Advocate, functioning as the
Defense. Also a Truth-teller's or telepath's services are recommended
but the right of a witness not to testify under that service has been
affirmed. However, such unconfirmed testimony bears less 'weight' than
testimony that is truth-verified by Psionic or other means.
"Instant" appeals (taking no more than a few days) of guilty verdicts
are allowed, if NEW information not previously considered is available,
but a frivolous appeal will result in the severity of the sentence being
increased by each step of Appeal. Robert is the last step of the
Appellate process. He has the final word.
"Not a Court of Law, nor a Court of Fact, this is a Court of Truth."
-- Robert Black.
(7) What's the deal with these Observers?
They are the Deus Ex Machina that explains why the Darkside's
history has diverged so radically from our own. They also provide a
larger point of view of the World. One from "outside of the box",
if you will. They provide a way to comment on the story from out of
its context.
V. About the Observers.
(1) What is the Rod?
It is a Meta-laced Destructionist artifact-weapon designed to
corrupt a mortal to darkness, and to take his world with him.
(2) Huh? A what-laced whosit?
Meta. A term borrowed from Wizards of the Coast's RPG Supplement;
"The Primal Order". Used in this case to indicate a level of power
that is above that of the Godly 'Primal' energy. Above Meta is Ultra.
Magic/Psionics/Super Powers = Mortal level powers.
Primal = Godly. Mortal powers cannot affect them.
Meta = Master Types. Primals cannot affect them.
Ultra = Creators/Destructors. Meta powers cannot affect them.
(3) And it was sent by whom?
The Destructionist branch of the Master Types. Above the Gods
and beneath those that Create and Destroys all are the class of
beings that are in-between. Those who report to the Creative side
of Ultra are the Creationists. They are dedicated to the ideals of
Life, Order, and Anti-Entropy, but their execution is sometimes less
than perfect. Those opposed to them are the Destructionists; bent
on causing Death, Chaos and Entropy, and with a similar caveat as to
their performance.
(4) So what are Master Types?
Another borrowed term, this time from Michael Moorcock. In his
works it refers to a single godlike being who "represents" a kind
of animal.In the mythology of the stories, every kind of animal, even humans, has a whole race of meta-powered beings to represent them. The leader of each kind is called the Type Master, who is the chief of their Type and Clan.
(5) Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar]
"Ugly": Don't quite know yet. A non-humanoid Destructionist Master Type, but not the Type Master of his kind.
Rider: The Hom (Humanoid) Type Master.
Kruegar: A lesser Ultra being in service to the Ultimate Powers.
(6) What is Ultra Energy?
The kind of energy possessed by the Ultimate Powers. They are the Multiversal Creator, known as Lord Shadow, and 'Its' opposite and other face, Lord Kaos. Each Universal dimension in the Multiverse has a piece of this energy as its Spark. Sometimes this is embodied as a Universal Creator, who is the model for the chief God of every mythos. Sometimes it is merely an abstract 'Force'.
Ultra power always assumes its opposite half. The Destructor's goal is to bring the untimely end of everything, and serves the whole by destroying what is unneeded. The Creative force brings new life and energy to what has been recycled. In a young Multiverse, the Creative force is the predominant, but inevitably, the Multiverse will wear down, succumb to Entropy, and Chaos will reign until the cycle begins anew.
(7) What is the Multiverse?
Go watch some Sliders. Every bit of Fiction, every single possibility is a distinct Dimensional Universe. The Multiverse is the sum of all the Universes. They are arranged by the Master Types by which power is predominant in them, whether the positive side or the negative kind. "Midpoint" is the theoretical middle point on this scale. It's where the balance shifts from one to the other. The clan with more of the scale on their side of Midpoint is the ascendant power. The Scale has Moebius properties as well.
Creation Destruction
|<-"Inside"|/////////////////////.\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\|"Outside"->|
^ Midpoint
(8) Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside?
The Rod was an attempt to shift the dimension to the negative side of the scale, thereby shifting the Midpoint without a costly (and painful) battle. It was a tactical point in a cosmic turf war.
(9) What about Rebecca?
She was empowered by Creationists in order to try to counteract the influence of the Rod. A tactical counterpoint; far more subtle than the first.
(10) What is The Experiment?
The dimension has been declared "out-of-bounds" to both sides. An observing body of Creationists and Destructionists chaired by Kruegar has been appointed to oversee the results. They have shielded the Universe with an impenetrable, isolating bubble, and will occasionally comment on its progress from a Council room in a smaller bubble attached to the Shield.
(11) Why are the Observers off-limits?
Because KTM plans on using them in regular fiction someday, and needs to control their usage.
VI. Q & A section.
(1) Author's questions for the reader.
* What do you like or don't like about the stories?
* What kind of characters or situations would you like to see?
* What kind of sexual content are you looking for in the stories?
* What other kinds of reactions have you had to the stories?
* What do you see happening in the future of this world?
(2) Questions from readers; answered.
Will Robert ever become a Good-Guy?
Kinda depends on your definition of "Good-Guy" now, doesn't it? From Robert's point of view, he *is* a good guy. Everything he does is because he believes it's the best choice to further what he perceives to be important and beneficial. He doesn't believe in any standard of morality other than his own conscience.
Will Robert and Rebecca ever get together?
Now, that would be telling. :)
Is Rebecca Robert's foil, or is it the other way around?
That has yet to be decided.
Are full edit/rewrites planned after each Volume's completion?
Yes. It's a first release, that's already been through several, but a major, comprehensive edit is planned for the future. | 3 |
143 | Fever | ...things to me. I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I'd be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot. Damn fever.
The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn't let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.
Literally.
The doorbell rang.
I squinted at the clock radio: just past 11 am. Who could that be? Not Sandra surely; I'd had Frank phone her last night to tell her I was sick and cancel our lunch. I toyed with the notion of just laying in bed and ignoring the bell - it rang again - but decided against it. It might be important.
I slid off the bed, wrapped my thick robe around my shivering body and walked slowly towards the door. The stairs gave me some difficulty - I was pretty dizzy - but I grabbed the handrail and took it one step at a time. It took a while - the bell rang again before I reached the bottom - but I eventually made it. Flushed and sweating, I opened the door.
It was a nurse, but dressed like no nurse I had ever seen before. She wore the white nurse's uniform, but the skirt was very short, barely covering her thighs, and the neckline plunged down to the top of her breasts in a deep vee. She was extremely attractive - funny, it must have been the fever; I didn't normally think of other women as attractive - with thick, red hair, a slender body and long... long, stocking-clad legs...
I must have been staring at her legs where they disappeared under the skirt - once again, it must have been the fever - 'cause she cleared her throat to get my attention. If it hadn't been for the fever, I'm sure my face would have burned with embarrassment.
She spoke. "Mrs Blair?"
I nodded, croaking out a "yes".
"I'm nurse Welles, from Homecare Inc." She adjusted her little hat. "I've been hired to look in on you."
That made sense. I assumed that Frank, or possibly Sandra, had decided that I needed some medical attention. Very thoughtful, really. "Come in."
I took a step back from the door, but stumbled. I was still rather dizzy and weak. The nurse rushed forward and grabbed my shoulder, steadying me.
"Here," she said. "You belong on your back." She was right; a fresh wave of dizziness washed over me. She put her hand around my shoulders and helped me back up the steps. At one point, I stumbled, and she dropped her hand to my rear end to steady me. She kept it there for the rest of the journey, using it to control my progress. I was acutely aware of it... squeezing, rubbing...
Finally we reached the bedroom and she steered me into the bed. "Now you just lie there, honey," she told me, pulling off my robe, "and let nurse Welles take care of you."
Shivering, I fell back onto the mattress. The nurse fixed the pillow behind my head and then began straightening out the tangled sheets at my feet. I watched for a bit. In my feverish state, her movements seemed almost hypnotic. Her long, slender arms moving over my body; the way her red hair tumbled out from beneath the white cap bent over... I was quite unable to take my eyes off her. Eventually, however, the fever took hold and I began to drift away. I was so tired. I think I fell into a bit of a daze.
It was like I was dreaming. I felt my nightie - a long tee-shirt, really - being pulled up until it was bunched under my chin. Then a voice: "Just relax... relax... leave everything to nurse Welles... she'll take care of you..."
I relaxed. Then I felt a pair of soft hands - *her* hands - running along the top of my chest and then down to my breasts. My breasts! I wanted to sit up and push those hands away - I'd *never* been touched there by another woman - but it felt so good. Those hands slid over my breasts, rubbing... massaging... tweaking my nipples...
I couldn't help but let out a quiet moan as the hands left my breasts and then moved slowly across my stomach and down to my pussy. "Just relax..." I felt her finger on the top of my pussy, just touching, teasing me... I moaned and thrust my hips up to meet that finger, but every time I did so, it moved away, not quite losing contact, but just enough so the pressure didn't increase.
"Please..." Was that my voice begging? I must have been delirious. But it felt so good. After a few moments, I felt her hands parting my thighs. I helped, opening my legs as far as they could go and thrusting upwards with my crotch. I was rewarded with an extra bit of pressure, and let out a moan.
Then I felt something cool and wettish, sliding down between my legs and up against my rear end. "Just relax..." It pushed up against my anus. I tried to clench my ass muscles to stop it from entering, but every time I tightened up, the finger left my clit. Whimpering in frustration, I gave in and let her push the object into me. Further and further... and the deeper it went, the more pressure was brought to bear on my clit.
I'd never had anything up there before, so it felt kind of strange. Hurt a bit, but the feelings of pleasure caused by the hand on my pussy more than made up for any discomfort. By now I was moaning and whimpering, desperate to come. The feelings built and built until I was thrashing about on the bed, humping my crotch into the air as far as I could, trying, needing to...
Ahhh... I sat up, drenched with sweat, pulling my soaked hand away from my crotch. I'd evidently masturbated myself to orgasm while I was sleeping. The fever did strange things to me. I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I'd be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot.
Damn fever.
The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn't let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.
Literally.
The doorbell rang... | 3 |
401 | In Extremis | ...but she had one habit that I thought was a sweet romantic gesture, one of the tiny ones that you don't give much thought to but add richness to a relationship. She used to lightly kiss me on my closed eyelids, first one then the other. It was awkward the first few times she did it, since I didn't know what she was up to and tended to keep my eyes open -- kind of like bumping noses when you first learn to kiss. But after a little while I grew comfortable with it, grew to enjoy the brief coolness that the moisture imparted. It didn't occur to me to ask why she did it -- I guess I assumed that it was something like her expression of a wish that everything I looked at would be pleasing -- but I didn't really care. It was just nice.
She had to get up for work before I did, and sometimes she'd kiss my eyes that way before she left, when I'd be lying in bed and looked like I was asleep. When that happened I wouldn't stir, wouldn't let on that I was awake. I thought that might be intruding somehow on her private ritual, that it might inhibit her in the future. One morning after the kisses I heard her grab her keys, head for the door, hesitate, then come back by me. She took off her clothes and then, ever so gently, slipped into bed next to me, obviously trying to not wake me up. I remember what an unexpected treat it was for me, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. But next she started kissing my eyes, in a different way, with a slow, wet intensity, still trying not to disturb me. I was totally confused, totally curious, and a little amused -- she was kissing my eyes as if they were my lips. After a while it seemed really funny, and my body shook slightly as I stifled a laugh. She apparently thought I was waking, and quickly and quietly left for work.
This happened several more times. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but at this point I was hesitant to say anything because I'd have to admit that I'd been pretending to be asleep all those times. One morning I found myself getting aroused, so I pretended to awaken and began kissing her in return, starting with her lips and slowly working my way down. When I got close to her crotch it seemed like she was sending out a signal that she didn't want me there. Then I noticed: She was wet. Very wet. Clearly something about kissing my eyes in that way was very exciting for her.
My curiosity killing me, I asked her what was going on. She got embarrassed, looked away, tried to change the subject. I held her, stroked her hair, and told her that nothing she could tell me would make me think less of her, that I wasn't going to judge her in any way. After a while she told me about it, though she still wouldn't look at me while she spoke. She said that at first she just found something inexplicably erotic about eyeball kissing, licking, and sucking. At some point she imagined sucking so hard that she removed the eyeballs, and the idea was so immediately, intensely exciting that she found it hard even to examine the thought head on. After that it became nearly all she could think of when she was around me. She decided that what was so thrilling for her was that in the fantasy she allowed herself to be so selfish as to take forever from me something so precious as my eyesight, just for a few minutes of pleasure for her. She buried her head in my chest and squeaked out, in guilt and embarrassment, that of course she would never want to actually do something like that in real life, but that even talking about it was turning her on.
I had several reactions all at once, as I comforted her and continued to stroke her hair. I was amused at how silly fantasies sometimes are -- the idea of her having the strength to remove an eyeball from its socket was ridiculous. I was disturbed that the person who I thought loved me so much could even fantasize about harming me that much. I was pleased that she trusted me enough to talk to me about it, and I felt very close to her at that moment. And, though I couldn't begin to admit it to myself, I think that a tiny part of myself was also very excited at the thought of her wanting to hurt me so much.
Mainly I was concerned with hiding most of those feelings from her, and with being supportive and encouraging her honesty. I told her that of course it didn't bother me, that I understood that she was talking about fantasy and not real life, and that I was so happy that she felt she could share that with me. I went even farther. I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying, but I told her that if she wanted to, we could explore the fantasy a little bit. I told her that she could kiss my eyes anytime she wanted, and that she could do pretty much anything she wanted to, so long as it didn't cause any damage or too much pain. I said that acting it out a little might serve to relieve some of the compulsion, and at the very least she could get some fun out of it. I said that there wasn't any danger because we would never combine it with bondage, and I could always stop her if she started to go too far. She looked up at me, gave a cute little smile, and said, "You mean, like right now?"
We moved to the bed, with her on top. We started with a long kissing session, which we both loved so much. She then moved slowly upward, gently kissing my upper lip, nose, cheek, and finally my eyelids. It was more relaxed than before, since we knew we had all the time in the world, and since there was no longer a secret between us. After a long period she whispered that she wanted me to open my eyelids for her. It was a command, a soft command, but a command nevertheless. I did so, and she started to kiss and lick my eyeballs themselves. At first it was difficult for me -- her tongue did tend to irritate the corneas, and I had to struggle against the reflex to close my lids -- but eventually I was able to relax and accept it. Her tongue became more insistent, probing far under the eyelids, and it was becoming just about uncomfortable enough for me to complain, when she switched to gentle sucking. I would have thought that would have made me very uneasy, knowing about her fantasy, but it felt rhythmic and calming, and took the tension out of my eye muscles. I felt like I was getting a special intimate massage from the one I loved, and who loved me. I could feel her wetness soaking all the way through her clothes, and later we had slow, deep, powerful sex. Afterward she laid her head on my chest, as was our habit. We stayed that way forever, completely spent and speechless.
That night was the high point. Things slowly moved downhill from there. I wanted her to feel comfortable with her fantasy so I never refused her, but she wanted to do it more and more often, to the point where conventional affection and sex were being pushed aside. It got to the point where anytime we'd start to kiss I'd know that at some point she'd totally abandon my lips and focus on my eyes. It was as if I wasn't even in the room -- it was just her and my eyes, and I felt alone. Gone was the gentleness of before. She became forceful and demanding, as if I owed it to her to let her do as she wished. And I became bothered by what I knew was going on in her head, making me want to recoil. It always ended the same way: She would start to cause me serious pain. I'd ask her nicely to stop. She'd say, "Just a little more." I'd *tell* her to stop. She'd ignore me. Then I'd beg her to stop. She'd ignore me. Finally I'd push her away, first gently and then, when she wouldn't budge, as hard as I could. She'd give me a look of hurt, anger, frustration, and starvation, then go away and sulk. If I went over to her to try to kiss and make up, things would go fine for a few minutes, sometimes she'd even apologize, but then she'd start again. But the worst part of it all was that it was exciting to me too. I could no longer deny that to myself, but I found myself shifting my body around so that she wouldn't feel my cock. But she knew.
Around the time of her birthday things unexpectedly got better. She left my eyes alone for a week beforehand, and we left to spend some time together in the small farmhouse her parents had left her. It was where we occasionally played with bondage. We had some toys in the basement there, and a wide, thick padded wooden table with restraints. I knew that there wouldn't be any bondage this trip, though -- at least not where *I* was tied down -- because I no longer trusted her enough.
Mostly we spent the days leading up to her birthday just being lazy, which was a real treat for me since it was hard for me to relax.On her birthday, she took me downstairs, sat me on the sofa, and told me what she wanted for her present. She said that she appreciated what I had done so far for her in terms of her fantasy, but now she craved more reality. She said that what she really wanted to do was to take my clothes off, tie me to the table, and take my eyes. She said that she definitely wanted to go all the way through with it. She understood that I might not be willing to do so, but she wanted me to go as far along that path with her as I could. She said that she wouldn't push me to go farther than that, but that I wouldn't be allowed to backtrack even one step.
Allowed. I shivered at that word, as excited as I was apprehensive. But there wasn't anything to fear -- I could quit anytime I wanted to, and the touch of reality would turn us both on. And even if things got a little bit out of hand, I could trust her not to seriously hurt me, right?
She leaned over and started kissing me. Soft, yielding, and loving, just like she was before all this started. We kissed for an hour, then she started to remove my clothes. I reached out to unbutton her blouse, and she slapped my hand. I tried again, and she slapped my face, hard. So hard that my ears rang. She had never done that before, and I was stunned. Not knowing how to react, I tried to cover my confusion with nervous laughter. She gave me a broad smile, as if she had won something from me, and continued to remove my clothes. Eventually, I sat there, cold and naked, while she, fully clothed, stared directly at my body. It seemed ridiculous that a little thing like clothes should make such a difference, but the power balance had shifted. I had to get some clothes back on. I reached down to the floor, to pick up my shirt. She slapped my face again, hard, and when I started to open my mouth in protest, slapped it again. I felt like I should have been angry, but I just sat there, still not knowing how to react, not sure what to do, just knowing that I didn't want to get slapped again.
She softened, and pressed up against me again, resuming the kissing. I felt more relaxed, since she was no longer staring at my nakedness, and since the warmth of her body offered at least a little protection from the cold. She reached down and started stroking my cock, then leaned over to my ear.
"It's actually going to happen tonight. I'm actually going to do it to you," she half whispered, half moaned.
Her words seemed to go straight from my ears to my cock, and I panicked -- I have to get it away from her, she can't know the effect her words will have on me. I tried to pull my crotch away from her hand, but she grabbed my balls with her other hand and squeezed, and I couldn't move.
"Did you hear me? I'm actually going to do it to you. Tonight." My cock was rock hard, and there was no way of hiding it from her. She smiled briefly, stopped rubbing me.
"I'll finish over there," she said in her best seductive voice, nodding in the direction of the table.
"Subtle," I said, trying to make a joke out of it. I complained that she wasn't playing fair. She told me that I was the one who wasn't playing fair, since I was supposed to go as far as I could with her, and since I could quit just as easily from the table as I could from the sofa. I was feeling manipulated, but since I could see no flaw in the logic, I agreed. I went to the table, climbed on top, and sat in the center, moving slowly since she still had my balls in her hand. She rewarded me with more stroking, and when I tried to reciprocate, I got slapped again, and again I didn't know how to react. After a little while, she stopped once more.
She said, "You know what I want you to do now, don't you? I want you to move your leg over there so that I can strap it down. Before you start whining again, let me remind you that you can always undo all of the cuffs up until the point that your last arm is strapped down. And if you quit on me now, I'm not going to let you come. Come on, move it. Now."
I hate to admit this, but frightened though I was at the idea of having any part of me strapped down, the idea of approaching as close as possible to the point of no return excited me beyond belief, and there was *something* about her voice, so certain and direct, that weakened my will to resist. Plus, I very much needed to come. A little voice inside me said that she probably wouldn't let me come until after my last arm was strapped down, but I told myself that I'd deal with that when the time came. I moved my leg for her, and she strapped it in. After my reward, I let her do the other one as well. She'd buckled my legs tighter than she'd ever done before, and this, combined with my nakedness and her attitude, gave me the feeling that I was rapidly losing control of the situation. She took her bottom off and sat on me just forward of my cock, so that I could feel and hear how wet she was, then put all of her weight on me, pressing my back against the table. Without asking, she moved my right arm and strapped it down.
Damn, why did it have to be the right arm? Things were going too fast for me, my heart was pounding, my mind racing, and I was so horny. I didn't even notice that she was placing a strap around my chest. Now I couldn't even sit up, and I could only reach one buckle. She started to move my remaining arm. It was now or never. I told her, in a panicky, breathless voice, that I had had fun but I really needed to put an end to this before it was too late, that I wasn't going any farther, that I didn't care whether I got to come or not. She stopped, quickly hopped off the table, got some things from a corner of the room, and returned to stand at the foot of the table. She raised one of the objects high -- I could see now that it was a nightstick -- and brought it down as hard as she could, inches from my left knee.
"You are so stupid sometimes," she said with disdain, all trace of seductiveness gone from her voice. "It's already too late. You've already lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to just get through the day when you're blind? Do you have any idea how much harder it would be if you also had two smashed knees and two smashed elbows? And were deaf?" She held up a pencil for me to see. "There's no way you could unbuckle yourself fast enough to stop me from doing that to you. I also won't let you come if you try," she said, a little bit of teasing seductiveness returning to her voice.
She was right. The only chance I had was to go along with her and try to talk her out of it. She raised the nightstick again, and, in shock, I moved my arm toward the restraint. She walked around to the left side of the table, keeping well out of my reach. Cautiously, she strapped my arm in with her left hand, keeping the nightstick ready in her right. Instantly, I felt that I had made the wrong decision, that at least I had had a tiny chance to free myself in time. But now it was too late. As she added straps to secure my stomach, knees, elbows, neck, and thighs, I felt panic and helplessness build within me. When she brought gauze, tape, towels, and ointments into view, her intentions really hit home. With every bit of strength in my being, I tried to free myself. I suppose that I'd been tied down absolutely securely on previous occasions, but in the back of my mind was always the thought that I could escape if I really wanted to. This time was different, because I discovered that I absolutely could not move. I lost control of my senses and thrashed around helplessly for a half hour or so, while she sat, waiting and watching me like an owl, slowly fingering herself.
When I stopped moving, exhausted, she crept up on top of me and moved to start kissing my eyelids. All I could think about was that she couldn't do what she wanted if I kept my head moving, so every time she started to kiss, I would jerk it away as best as I could. Each time I did so, she slapped me hard on the face, and she made it clear that she had days, if necessary, and she could easily outlast me. Adding to my feelings of powerlessness was the fact that my cock seemed to be on her side; every time she slapped me, it just got stiffer, and there was no way to hide that fact from her. I tried threatening her, saying that I'd tell the authorities or even kill her when it was all over. She patiently and clinically explained to me how vulnerable and defenseless a blind person is, and how many ways she could retaliate against me if I tried to hurt her. Finally, I just gave up, and decided to resume the struggle when she actually began to hurt me, hoping that in the meantime I could reason with her. She said, "Good boy," and rewarded me by taking me just below the point of orgasm, then stopped and resumed the eyelid kissing. She then explained that she didn't like the feel of my eyelashes against her tongue, and started to pull the lashes out with her teeth and fingers. I tried to protest, but she slapped me several more times, and pulled out a clump of pubic hair. I shut up. When she was done removing the lashes, she began to try to force my eyelids open with her tongue. I let her. Her tongue was stronger than I had remembered -- was there such a thing as tongue exercises? -- and she pushed it as far along the edges as she could. I felt an incredible, demoralizing sense of invasion, violation, and rape. I wanted to pull my head away, but I just couldn't -- I knew that it wouldn't make any difference in the end, and I didn't want her to hurt me any more than she'd already planned to. She grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the cart.
"Meat tenderizer, mostly," she said. "Muscle weakener. *And* it's tasty."
She grabbed a handful of my hair, gripping hard to immobilize me, and forced the soft tip of the bottle under my lids -- not very difficult, since she had stretched them so far before.She aimed the tip between the eyeball and socket, and squeezed hard. When she was finished, she massaged my lids for a few minutes to work the greasy substance in, then left the room to get something to eat. The first thing I felt was an intense burning pain. It was nearly unbearable, but the worst part was that when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see through the stuff. It was a foretaste of blindness, and I was in despair. By the time she returned, the burning had mostly turned to itching, and it was driving me mad. I lost all my composure and begged her. I begged her to let me go. I begged her to stop the itching. I begged her to let me come. I begged her to forgive me for making her slap me so many times. She resumed licking my eyeballs, lapping up the substance. It was like finally scratching the itch, and it felt so good that I actually felt grateful for her "help." I was broken, and after that point, I cooperated with her -- if she wanted me to move my head, she just pushed it lightly in the direction she wanted, and I moved it for her. I felt relief in accepting what was going to happen to me, in giving her what she wanted.
She told me that we were near the end. She stood up over me, so that I could get a good, though slightly blurry, last picture of her, looking triumphant, hands on hips. She said that she wanted to hear my pain, that I wasn't to try to hold it in. Then she began. She pulled back the lids of my left eye with her thumbs and began to suck, rhythmically, gently at first, then harder, until it was clear that she was using all of her strength. She grabbed my hair with both hands to keep my head from pulling up from the table, and to have something to push against. With each pull, I screamed louder -- the pain became so intense -- and I remember wondering whether I was hurting her ears. Toward the end, I saw white flashes and felt tiny little pops, and the eye was gone.
She started on the other eye, and when she covered it with her lips and I realized I would never see anything again, I lost my acceptance and my relief. I struggled, I begged, I cried, I humiliated myself, but to no avail. All I could do was lie there and wait for it to happen. And it did.
When it was all over, she mounted me -- I was still hard -- and she quickly climaxed. She released my arms. She wasn't at all afraid of me because she knew that I was helpless and couldn't even get to the hospital without her. I tried to reach down to bring myself to orgasm -- even after all I'd been through, I for some reason was nearly dying from horniness -- but she wouldn't let me and moved my hand away. She removed the rest of her clothes, put her head against my chest, and said she wanted me to hold her. Having no other significant options, I did. She lay there, satisfied, totally relaxed, knowing how much pain I was in, knowing that she had promised me sexual release, knowing how much I needed that release to salvage something from the tragedy. But she had gotten what she wanted, and she just didn't care. | 3 |
726 | In Extremis | ....but she had one habit that I thought was a sweet romantic gesture, one of the tiny ones that you don't give much thought to but add richness to a relationship. She used to lightly kiss me on my closed eyelids, first one then the other. It was awkward the first few times she did it, since I didn't know what she was up to and tended to keep my eyes open -- kind of like bumping noses when you first learn to kiss. But after a little while I grew comfortable with it, grew to enjoy the brief coolness that the moisture imparted. It didn't occur to me to ask why she did it -- I guess I assumed that it was something like her expression of a wish that everything I looked at would be pleasing -- but I didn't really care. It was just nice.
She had to get up for work before I did, and sometimes she'd kiss my eyes that way before she left, when I'd be lying in bed and looked like I was asleep. When that happened I wouldn't stir, wouldn't let on that I was awake. I thought that might be intruding somehow on her private ritual, that it might inhibit her in the future. One morning after the kisses I heard her grab her keys, head for the door, hesitate, then come back by me. She took off her clothes and then, ever so gently, slipped into bed next to me, obviously trying to not wake me up. I remember what an unexpected treat it was for me, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. But next she started kissing my eyes, in a different way, with a slow, wet intensity, still trying not to disturb me. I was totally confused, totally curious, and a little amused -- she was kissing my eyes as if they were my lips. After a while it seemed really funny, and my body shook slightly as I stifled a laugh. She apparently thought I was waking, and quickly and quietly left for work.
This happened several more times. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but at this point I was hesitant to say anything because I'd have to admit that I'd been pretending to be asleep all those times. One morning I found myself getting aroused, so I pretended to awaken and began kissing her in return, starting with her lips and slowly working my way down. When I got close to her crotch it seemed like she was sending out a signal that she didn't want me there. Then I noticed: She was wet. Very wet. Clearly something about kissing my eyes in that way was very exciting for her.
My curiosity killing me, I asked her what was going on. She got embarrassed, looked away, tried to change the subject. I held her, stroked her hair, and told her that nothing she could tell me would make me think less of her, that I wasn't going to judge her in any way. After a while she told me about it, though she still wouldn't look at me while she spoke. She said that at first she just found something inexplicably erotic about eyeball kissing, licking, and sucking. At some point she imagined sucking so hard that she removed the eyeballs, and the idea was so immediately, intensely exciting that she found it hard even to examine the thought head on. After that it became nearly all she could think of when she was around me. She decided that what was so thrilling for her was that in the fantasy she allowed herself to be so selfish as to take forever from me something so precious as my eyesight, just for a few minutes of pleasure for her. She buried her head in my chest and squeaked out, in guilt and embarrassment, that of course she would never want to actually do something like that in real life, but that even talking about it was turning her on.
I had several reactions all at once, as I comforted her and continued to stroke her hair. I was amused at how silly fantasies sometimes are -- the idea of her having the strength to remove an eyeball from its socket was ridiculous. I was disturbed that the person who I thought loved me so much could even fantasize about harming me that much. I was pleased that she trusted me enough to talk to me about it, and I felt very close to her at that moment. And, though I couldn't begin to admit it to myself, I think that a tiny part of myself was also very excited at the thought of her wanting to hurt me so much.
Mainly I was concerned with hiding most of those feelings from her, and with being supportive and encouraging her honesty. I told her that of course it didn't bother me, that I understood that she was talking about fantasy and not real life, and that I was so happy that she felt she could share that with me. I went even farther. I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying, but I told her that if she wanted to, we could explore the fantasy a little bit. I told her that she could kiss my eyes anytime she wanted, and that she could do pretty much anything she wanted to, so long as it didn't cause any damage or too much pain. I said that acting it out a little might serve to relieve some of the compulsion, and at the very least she could get some fun out of it. I said that there wasn't any danger because we would never combine it with bondage, and I could always stop her if she started to go too far. She looked up at me, gave a cute little smile, and said, "You mean, like right now?"
We moved to the bed, with her on top. We started with a long kissing session, which we both loved so much. She then moved slowly upward, gently kissing my upper lip, nose, cheek, and finally my eyelids. It was more relaxed than before, since we knew we had all the time in the world, and since there was no longer a secret between us. After a long period she whispered that she wanted me to open my eyelids for her. It was a command, a soft command, but a command nevertheless. I did so, and she started to kiss and lick my eyeballs themselves. At first it was difficult for me -- her tongue did tend to irritate the corneas, and I had to struggle against the reflex to close my lids -- but eventually I was able to relax and accept it. Her tongue became more insistent, probing far under the eyelids, and it was becoming just about uncomfortable enough for me to complain, when she switched to gentle sucking. I would have thought that would have made me very uneasy, knowing about her fantasy, but it felt rhythmic and calming, and took the tension out of my eye muscles. I felt like I was getting a special intimate massage from the one I loved, and who loved me. I could feel her wetness soaking all the way through her clothes, and later we had slow, deep, powerful sex. Afterward she laid her head on my chest, as was our habit. We stayed that way forever, completely spent and speechless.
That night was the high point. Things slowly moved downhill from there. I wanted her to feel comfortable with her fantasy so I never refused her, but she wanted to do it more and more often, to the point where conventional affection and sex were being pushed aside. It got to the point where anytime we'd start to kiss I'd know that at some point she'd totally abandon my lips and focus on my eyes. It was as if I wasn't even in the room -- it was just her and my eyes, and I felt alone. Gone was the gentleness of before. She became forceful and demanding, as if I owed it to her to let her do as she wished. And I became bothered by what I knew was going on in her head, making me want to recoil. It always ended the same way: She would start to cause me serious pain. I'd ask her nicely to stop. She'd say, "Just a little more." I'd *tell* her to stop. She'd ignore me. Then I'd beg her to stop. She'd ignore me. Finally I'd push her away, first gently and then, when she wouldn't budge, as hard as I could. She'd give me a look of hurt, anger, frustration, and starvation, then go away and sulk. If I went over to her to try to kiss and make up, things would go fine for a few minutes, sometimes she'd even apologize, but then she'd start again. But the worst part of it all was that it was exciting to me too. I could no longer deny that to myself, but I found myself shifting my body around so that she wouldn't feel my cock. But she knew.
Around the time of her birthday things unexpectedly got better. She left my eyes alone for a week beforehand, and we left to spend some time together in the small farmhouse her parents had left her. It was where we occasionally played with bondage. We had some toys in the basement there, and a wide, thick padded wooden table with restraints. I knew that there wouldn't be any bondage this trip, though -- at least not where *I* was tied down -- because I no longer trusted her enough.
Mostly we spent the days leading up to her birthday just being lazy, which was a real treat for me since it was hard for me to relax. On her birthday she took me downstairs, sat me on the sofa, and told me what she wanted for her present. She said that she appreciated what I had done so far for her in terms of her fantasy, but now she craved more reality. She said that what she really wanted to do was to take my clothes off, tie me to the table, and take my eyes. She said that she definitely wanted to go all the way through with it. She understood that I might not be willing to do so, but she wanted me to go as far along that path with her as I could. She said that she wouldn't push me to go farther than that, but that I wouldn't be allowed to backtrack even one step. Allowed. I shivered at that word, as excited as I was apprehensive. But there wasn't anything to fear -- I could quit anytime I wanted to, and the touch of reality would turn us both on. And even if things got a little bit out of hand, I could trust her not to seriously hurt me, right?She took her bottom off and sat on me just forward of my cock, so that I could feel and hear how wet she was, then put all of her weight on me, pressing my back against the table. Without asking, she moved my right arm and strapped it down. Damn, why did it have to be the right arm? Things were going too fast for me, my heart was pounding, my mind racing, and I was so horny. I didn't even notice that she was placing a strap around my chest. Now I couldn't even sit up, and I could only reach one buckle. She started to move my remaining arm. It was now or never. I told her, in a panicky, breathless voice, that I had had fun but I really needed to put an end to this before it was too late, that I wasn't going any farther, that I didn't care whether I got to come or not. She stopped, quickly hopped off the table, got some things from a corner of the room, and returned to stand at the foot of the table. She raised one of the objects high -- I could see now that it was a nightstick -- and brought it down as hard as she could, inches from my left knee. "You are so stupid sometimes," she said with disdain, all trace of seductiveness gone from her voice. "It's already too late. You've already lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to just get through the day when you're blind? Do you have any idea how much harder it would be if you also had two smashed knees and two smashed elbows? And were deaf?" She held up a pencil for me to see. "There's no way you could unbuckle yourself fast enough to stop me from doing that to you. I also won't let you come if you try," she said, a little bit of teasing seductiveness returning to her voice. She was right. The only chance I had was to go along with her and try to talk her out of it. She raised the nightstick again, and, in shock, I moved my arm toward the restraint. She walked around to the left side of the table, keeping well out of my reach. Cautiously, she strapped my arm in with her left hand, keeping the nightstick ready in her right. Instantly I felt that I had made the wrong decision, that at least I had had a tiny chance to free myself in time. But now it was too late. As she added straps to secure my stomach, knees, elbows, neck, and thighs, I felt panic and helplessness build within me. When she brought gauze, tape, towels, and ointments into view, her intentions really hit home. With every bit of strength in my being I tried to free myself. I suppose that I'd been tied down absolutely securely on previous occasions, but in the back of my mind was always the thought that I could escape if I really wanted to. This time was different, because I discovered that I absolutely could not move. I lost control of my senses and thrashed around helplessly for a half hour or so, while she sat, waiting and watching me like an owl, slowly fingering herself. When I stopped moving, exhausted, she crept up on top of me and moved to start kissing my eyelids. All I could think about was that she couldn't do what she wanted if I kept my head moving, so every time she started to kiss I would jerk it away as best as I could. Each time I did so she slapped me hard on the face, and she made it clear that she had days, if necessary, and she could easily outlast me. Adding to my feelings of powerlessness was the fact that my cock seemed to be on her side; every time she slapped me it just got stiffer, and there was no way to hide that fact from her. I tried threatening her, saying that I'd tell the authorities or even kill her when it was all over. She patiently and clinically explained to me how vulnerable and defenseless a blind person is, and how many ways she could retaliate against me if I tried to hurt her. Finally I just gave up, and decided to resume the struggle when she actually began to hurt me, hoping that in the meantime I could reason with her. She said, "Good boy," and rewarded me by taking me just below the point of orgasm, then stopped and resumed the eyelid kissing. She then explained that she didn't like the feel of my eyelashes against her tongue, and started to pull the lashes out with her teeth and fingers. I tried to protest, but she slapped me several more times, and pulled out a clump of pubic hair. I shut up. When she was done removing the lashes she began to try to force my eyelids open with her tongue. I let her. Her tongue was stronger than I had remembered -- was there such a thing as tongue exercises? -- and she pushed it as far along the edges as she could. I felt an incredible, demoralizing sense of invasion, violation, and rape. I wanted to pull my head away, but I just couldn't -- I knew that it wouldn't make any difference in the end, and I didn't want her to hurt me any more than she'd already planned to. She grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the cart. "Meat tenderizer, mostly," she said. "Muscle weakener. *And* it's tasty." She grabbed a handful of my hair, gripping hard to immobilize me, and forced the soft tip of the bottle under my lids -- not very difficult, since she had stretched them so far before. She aimed the tip between the eyeball and socket, and squeezed hard. When she was finished she massaged my lids for a few minutes, to work the greasy substance in, then left the room to get something to eat. The first thing I felt was an intense burning pain. It was nearly unbearable, but the worst part was that, when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see through the stuff. It was a foretaste of blindness, and I was in despair. By the time she returned the burning had mostly turned to itching, and was driving me mad. I lost all my composure and begged her. I begged her to let me go. I begged her to stop the itching. I begged her to let me come. I begged her to forgive me for making her slap me so many times. She resumed licking my eyeballs, lapping up the substance. It was like finally scratching the itch, and it felt so good that I actually felt grateful for her "help." I was broken, and after that point cooperated with her -- if she wanted me to move my head she just pushed it lightly in the direction she wanted, and I moved it for her. I felt relief in accepting what was going to happen to me, in giving her what she wanted. She told me that we were near the end. She stood up over me, so that I could get a good, though slightly blurry, last picture of her, looking triumphant, hands on hips. She said that she wanted to hear my pain, that I wasn't to try to hold it in. Then she began. She pulled back the lids of my left eye with her thumbs, and began to suck, rhythmically, gently at first, then harder, until it was clear that she was using all of her strength. She grabbed my hair with both hands to keep my head from pulling up from the table, and to have something to push against. With each pull I screamed louder -- the pain became so intense -- and I remember wondering whether I was hurting her ears. Toward the end I saw white flashes and felt tiny little pops, and the eye was gone. She started on the other eye, and when she covered it with her lips and I realized I would never see anything again, I lost my acceptance and my relief. I struggled, I begged, I cried, I humiliated myself, but to no avail. All I could do was lie there and wait for it to happen. And it did. When it was all over she mounted me -- I was still hard -- and she quickly climaxed. She released my arms. She wasn't at all afraid of me, because she knew that I was helpless, and couldn't even get to the hospital without her. I tried to reach down to bring myself to orgasm -- even after all I'd been through, I for some reason was nearly dying from horniness -- but she wouldn't let me, and moved my hand away. She removed the rest of her clothes, put her head against my chest, and said she wanted me to hold her. Having no other significant options, I did. She lay there, satisfied, totally relaxed, knowing how much pain I was in, knowing that she had promised me sexual release, knowing how much I needed that release to salvage something from the tragedy. But she had gotten what she wanted, and she just didn't care. | 4 |
6,032 | Her curly long red hair... | ...flowed over a pair of knockout sweet young breasts as she sat there on the bed. I only talked to her once on the phone after checking out her photo on the web page, but geeeezzzz, I really had no idea!
She looked over to the guy on the chair beside the bed, "Don't mind him, my husband only likes to watch."
"Go ahead, you can have her, she's all yours," he said with a warm friendly smile.
She then looked up at me with a coy grin on her fresh young face. She parted her perfect legs only slightly, but enough to expose a flame red patch. I moved forward, almost intoxicated with her slightly freckled, cream white skin, and her swollen lips and a pair of innocent eyes you could stare into all day long. She then sat up attentively and started unbuckling the belt of my pants...
To feel her turned-up nose nuzzling up to my pubic hairs as her lips wrapped wantingly to the hilt of my shaft. And that gorgeous red hair tumbling over my balls... all of this was far too much... I tried to warn her, but she reached around to grab my butt and pulled me in tighter. I had no other choice than to shoot the largest load ever, deeply between the lips of her eager mouth, over the length of her luxuriously seeking tongue.
She removed my still hard cock, admired it, rubbed it over her sweet little face, looked up at me and said, "Would you like a drink or something, and we'll do that again?"
I looked over to her husband, who I happened to notice was just finishing himself up. He stood and took three steps toward the bed. (I could tell they had done this before.) She quickly moved to take his prick in her freshly lubricated mouth just at the right time. Bam! I never saw another man come like that before. She held his balls with both hands just to stay close, as he pumped her cheeks full of cum that soon came dripping down her chin and onto the long rippling waves of red hair which was now hanging down in drapes between his quivering thighs. He withdrew, but then he kept gushing all over her forehead and into her brilliant locks on both sides of her smiling face.
As she laid back on the bed, for the first time I saw how firm and large her breasts were. Now beaded with fresh sperm, each adorned by a silver dollar-sized, pink and puckered nipple. She laughed and said, "Whew, I need to take a short shower after that one." She pranced off to the bathroom, grabbing some little slinky thing on the way. Still recovering, falling back into the chair by the bed, her husband looked over to me and smiled, saying, "I knew you would like her."
YES THIS REALLY HAPPENED TO ME AND I'LL REMEMBER IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, and it was easy! Believe it or not, it's all up to you! All I had to do was answer a classified ad at this place:
http://www.alternativeconnections.com/index.htm?AssociateID=111378
I just had to share this one. Man, trust me, you will not be disappointed!
Try to have yourself a good day, I did... yeeee haaaaaaaa!
Jake | 3 |
41,430 | Angela/Kristen/Heather - fff/incest | ... all, idiotic things. This was something their mother Angela prided herself on. They were all pretty close-knit in the house, especially when Angela's husband left them alone when Heather was only 17 and Kristen 14. Those were hard times, but they survived together somehow.
Now, it's 1992. Heather has just turned 20, and Kristen, of course, turned 17. For Kristen, these are the hardest times when it comes to being a teenager. Questions answered always come from her sister, who works with her mother to make ends meet. So, when she is home, they do talk about the secretive things that sisters discuss. But, nowadays, she finds herself wondering about what to do in life, boys turning to men, and the end of high school impending in just one year.
On Friday nights, Kristen was home before the two working ladies arrived at around 7. Heather and her mother worked at a supply company, completing orders for the front store. They liked it there, due to the old man who owned it. They could work very independently, filling orders for the man up front, and that kept him happy. The mutual understanding between Heather and her mother was that at work, they worked. Rarely any mother/daughter banter..that was to be left at home.
When they arrived, Kristen was in the kitchen watching HBO. They looked exhausted, but strangely enough, they still retained their beauty that this family's women were so luckily blessed with. Clearly, they all looked like Angela. She was 40 years old, but you could swear she was 30. She possessed blonde hair, which she passed on to her daughters. Many have told her she looks a bit like Susan Sarandon. Angela never really became heavy after having kids, she tried to keep herself in shape for her husband. After he left, it was just a matter of stamina, and she worked out every night.
Walking in, Kristen noticed in the back of her mind that her mother was slightly taller than Heather. Kristen always felt good that she was attractive with them, as not to be the black sheep of the family. But she noticed their attractiveness, and thought how hard it must be to stay that way even after a long day at work.
Wearily, the two plopped down at the kitchen table. Kristen could see how tired they were. "How was it today?", she asked. Kristen and Heather have been sharing a room all their lives. It was a floral motif, with yellow furniture from their childhood days. They shared a bunk bed, Kristen always residing on the top. Angela had always said they'd move to someplace bigger, but the money situation simply didn't warrant it.
Kristen had a realization that her sister was attractive. Not the attractive that they've always expressed when the other did their makeup just right, or one bought a cute outfit. She was looking at her sister's physical being, and found her to be attractive.
Her eyes went down the length of Heather's golden hair. How soft it must be, she thought. The sweatshirt, although baggy, hugged Heather's body at the waist. The black spandex created a beautiful silhouette around her buttocks, making it almost perfectly round on each side. Kristen could see her muscles move, whenever Heather would move so slightly. From there, her eyes traced her sister's legs, so slender and so strong under the spandex, right down to her feet.
Kristen began to fluster, but could not help becoming aroused. Sexuality was not one of her more important worries, but it had happened once, on a date, when she noticed the boy's penis pushing through his shorts. But this was different.
She couldn't look any longer because the embarrassment and the feeling between her legs became unbearable. She hopped down off the bed, and quietly left the room. Heather said nothing, and continued to read.
Out in the hallway, she was a mess. Kristen could feel her heart pounding, and her ears ringing. Her breathing was almost hard, as she tried to get the picture of her sister's body out of her mind. This was something they made fun of the women gym teachers for, and she never conceived she would look at another female like that, especially her own sister. This must be wrong, she persistently thought, and she must get rid of this twinging between her legs.
She ran to the bathroom across the hall, and flung the door open. Opening the bottom medicine cabinet, she was frantically searching for a douche of any kind. That's when she heard, "Sweetheart, are you okay?"
Jumping a bit, she quickly looked up to find her mother in the bathtub, neck high in bubbles. This too, was something she rarely saw, and never under these circumstances. She stuttered, "O..Oh, yeah," half smiling, "just making sure I have deodorant for tomorrow."
Angela, pushing her pulled-up hair from her face, sank deeper into her warm bubbles. "Well, if you're going to look, shut the door. It's freezing out there." She then took the Dove bar, and soaped her arm.
Kristen's mind whirled. She didn't want to let on something was wrong, this she wanted to keep to herself. To put on a good front, she shut the door, knelt down to look further, but only knocking down things in the cabinet in the process. From her right ear, Kristen heard, "My, you're a wreck. Come here, are you sick?"
Obediently, Kristen walked tubside, and sat down on the edge. Angela raised a wet hand from the water, and brushed back her daughter's blonde hair. She asks, "What's wrong. School?"
Kristen wanted to run. She noticed her mother's beautiful, yet concerned face, and the soapy bubbles sliding slowly down her neck. She unintentionally memorized the sight of her mother's large breasts, jutting from the bubbles like two round islands. The glistening wetness across her breasts, and the stiffness of her brown nipples only increased Kristen's anxiety. Her eyes quickly, but it felt like a million years, traveled down her mother's body.
Kristen did not know what to say, and couldn't. Her mother had caught her looking, and there was no way she could back out. She seemed scared and Angela felt it. She knew her daughter must discover her own sexuality, or she will be vulnerable in a very cruel world. She thought that maybe she can ease Kristen's fears by sharing a common trait, or bond, between women. To show that becoming an adult is okay.
Angela then looked at her breasts, and then looked toward Kristen's, outlined by her flowery sweater. She then said "You know, your breasts are the same size when I was your age. As you get older, and have children, they'll get bigger."
Kristen, although a bit surprised, felt some tension go away. Her mother had understood her uneasiness, and suddenly she felt safe. Kristen looked down at her own budding chest, pushed out, and said, "Do you think so?" Looking back at her mother's wet breasts, as if it was the right thing to do.
To make her point, and not really thinking about it, Angela moved her hand from Kristen's hair, down the neck of her sweater, and cupped Kristen's left breast. Angela said, "Hmm. I think so." Kristen felt a tingle bolt between her legs, but this time closed her eyes. Angela, realizing that maybe touching her own daughter's breast isn't the best thing to do, went to pull her hand off Kristen's young breast, but then could not ignore the itchy sensation developing between her own legs, below the warm water.
Angela moved her hand around Kristen's breast, in a massaging motion. Kristen, on another planet, kept her eyes closed while she floated in this new feeling. Angela whispered, "Boys will touch you here, honey. Does it feel good?" Kristen, now sailing with the winds, pushed her mother's hand harder onto her breast. Angela, now knowing she was over the boundaries, did not pull away. She closed her eyes, and deftly felt Kristen's softness under her fingertips. Her legs spread slightly, and felt the warm water caress her as it rushed in. Kristen whispered, "Yes."
Kristen found her mother to be even more beautiful than before. From the neck down, Angela's wet skin glistened. Some hair from her bun was wetly strewn about her shoulders. Kristen's eyes looked at her breasts. They were much bigger and fuller than her own. They didn't sag, but seemed heavy due to their largeness. Angela's large, brown areolas centered her stiff nipples. Small bodies of suds slowly drifted down Angela's neck, into the valley between her chest, and down into the water. She silently looked at her daughter's innocent face, waiting for Kristen to touch her.
She was almost shaking when she put her hands slowly forward, and sat closer to her mother as her hands made contact. Her palms touched her mother's nipples, as her fingertips felt the soft heaviness at the sides. Her hands became lubricated as she moved them around toward the front of Angela's breasts, supporting their weight, and absorbing their warmth.Kristen studied her own motions, coupled with her movements, with great intensity. Angela watched her daughter's hands massage her wet breasts, and then her daughter's face that was filled with wonderment. She was feeling her mother's fullness for the first time and began to feel from the outside peering in, what it was to be a woman.
Kristen began to feel more at ease, while her temperature rose between her legs. By now, her panties were soaked as she had never known them to be. Her thumbs ran back and forth over Angela's nipples, while her palms held the weight of her breasts. She cupped them and came up and around in a heart shape until "I...already finished," Kristen said, a little sad that the moment ended. But she stood to leave. Stopping, she looked at her mother who was still sitting. "Mom...did you feel anything when you touched me?"
Angela knew she was in a spot. But her vagina was aching from the experience. All she could say was, "Get going...we'll talk later," hoping to drop the subject.
Kristen turned and left the bathroom.
Lying looking straight up, Heather knew she was just troubled about something. Probably a guy at school, she thought. "You okay? Want to talk about it?" Heather asked gently.
Kristen looked over and smiled slightly. "No...no. Maybe later."
Heather knew to lay off. "Okay." She put her hand on Kristen's arm. "I'm here anytime you need me." She then went back to her bed and her reading.
Kristen stared at the ceiling. She could not look at Heather the same way. The whole ten seconds Heather stood there, Kristen traced every inch of her body with her new-found awareness. The touch of her hand gave her shivers, and she suddenly began to imagine Heather stripping. Not the way she normally changes clothes, but really stripping, while Kristen watches her from a chair. Then there was their mother, reaching from behind to pull up Kristen's shirt and fondling her naked breasts. As is the reality, Kristen pushed her hands harder on her chest, as Angela began to nuzzle her daughter's neck. Kristen could feel the sensations build as she watches Heather remove her bra like a pro, and she sensually danced around on a stage.
That's when she jumped awake to find the room unexplainably dark. She instinctively looked at the clock: 3:45 AM. She had fallen asleep on her bunk. In the darkness, she could hear Heather breathing in her deep sleep.She realized that since maneuvering, she was flipping the waffles with a steel spatula. "Did she...well, it was hot last night."
Kristen stammered, to end this dangerous conversation, "Yeah...I couldn't stop sweating."
"I don't know. Seemed fine to me. Maybe we should turn the AC up," mentioned Heather.
Angela walked across the floor, carrying the two plates, and set them down in front of her daughters. She purposefully bent over slightly, to let the V-neck hang, and see who was to peer down her nightgown. As expected, Kristen did. She watched Angela's breasts wobble a bit in movement, and became flustered. Angela also caught Heather looking in the corner of her eye. Not looking at either, she said, "Probably. I always forget to take care of that when we get home." She then sat back in an adjoining wooden chair, next to Heather. Heather began to dig in, as well did Kristen, but slower to look up periodically at her peering mother.
It was silent for a second, except for the sounds of food crunching, and the clanking of silverware. Then Angela turned to Heather, "What's on the agenda for today?"
With half a mouth full, "Not too sure. None of my friends called, so I was going to just hang and watch some TV. Maybe go to the mall." Angela looked at Kristen. "What about you, honey?"
Just looking up, Kristen carefully muttered, "Nothing. Why?"
"Well," said Angela matter-of-factly, "today's supposed to be gorgeous. In the 80's. We should do the girl thing today, since we have no friends. Let's hit the mall, and tonight how about a camp out in the backyard?"
Heather looked up and beamed. "COOL! Can we have beer, or something? It is the girls' night out, and since Kristen can't get into a bar or anything..." That's exactly what the three did. They all went to the Christiana Mall around three. They liked to work the mall, as they put it. Starting with JCPenney's, and work the way down.
Of course, the primary purchase interest was clothes. Heather just loved shopping, almost to an addictive point. Kristen and Angela kept pace with her, though. The whole time they were going rack to rack to rack, Kristen was dreaming and forecasting the night ahead. She thought of her mother, all too many times, naked. Then Heather. Then herself. All three of them, in that white tent still rolled up in the garage, totally nude. She knew and felt Angela was up to something in a very devilish, and flirtatious way. It became self-evident, at least to Kristen, when they went into Victoria's Secret.
"Oh, my. I can be in this place for hours," Angela said dreamily.
"Oh, I know..." exclaimed Heather, "...and they're so expensive." She shuffles her bags. "This will be the last place I'm buying something. I am too broke."
Angela looked at her sternly. "Watch what you do with that credit card, young lady. I'm not paying it."
Heather huffed. "Don't worry, Mom...that's why I'm working. Let's look around."
Together, all three perused the world of exotic lingerie. The entire place was in an old woodworked style, and the smell of spring potpourri filled the air. They frowned at the "old lady" styles, and giggled at the risque. Eventually, they all split in several directions. One minute quickly drained into a half hour. That's when Heather saw Kristen at the counter, taking a bag and finishing a purchase.
With a few hangers in her hand, she quickly sprinted to Kristen. "Hey, what did you get?"
Kristen blushed a little. "Well, I don't normally buy this stuff. I'll show you later."
Heather laughed. "You better." And turned to finish shopping.
Kristen knew she may show them all tonight.
Angela carried the somewhat dirty white tent, Heather took the sleeping bags, while Angela took the provisions. They ventured far enough where they could still barely make out the house in the orange sunset. The sun was going down, and they wanted to get set up before dark.
Heather and Kristen knew the terrain well, for they used to play and tell secrets behind those very trees. It was solitude that only few knew of, one being their mother. They led to a small clearing surrounded by proud oaks and birches, and put down the gear.
Kristen declared, "I'll make the fireplace!" and began to gather stones. Heather set up her radio/cassette player for some background noise as she and her mother set up the tent.
As the sun finally gave way to the impending star-glittered darkness, Kristen had already had the round stone fireplace built and kindling already lit and snapping. Heather and her mother set up the tent, after several attempts which left them laughing hysterically, and were rolling out the sleeping bags inside.
When Kristen had returned with her fifth armful of firewood, Heather and Angela were sitting on a log, drinking cold Coors, and roasting marshmallows. They looked up when she approached, and dropped the wood.
"Hey, no fair. I'm busting my hump in the wild out there and you two have started."
Angela grinned. "Honey, you're done. We have enough wood to build a house. Here...don't tell anyone..." and handed her youngest a cold bottle.
Kristen smiled, and sat on an opposite log, and said "...yeah!" and took a sip.
For moments, it was quiet except for the sounds of the night birds, and the trees rustling. They all looked to the stars peeking between the high branches, taking in the light breeze and feeling as if they were the last people on earth.
Kristen looked at both of them, looking up. She was a bit anxious, only trying to predict what might happen when she gets a little too drunk to keep her mouth shut. She looked at her mother, in her grey sweatshirt, and grey shorts. The orange firelight accented her wavy blonde hair, and she looked years younger. Kristen's eyes gleaned at her crossed legs, noticing every curve. She then looked at Heather, who was a mere younger version of Angela, and traced the outlines of her bra, though her white t-shirt, in the orange hue of the fire. Heather wore red shorts, which were high on her propped up legs. As the alcohol began to take her mind swimming on her third beer, she began to...
"Well, go ahead," said Angela, "there's a bush there and there and there..."
Heather lazily looked around at the dark woods. "I'm not going in there...it's too dark. I can't."
"Oh, go on...your sister will go with you. Go, Kristen...your older sister has to pee...go protect her from the lions, tigers, and...(belch)...bears."
Almost falling backwards herself, Kristen stood up, dropping her empty bottle. "Okay, Mom." She grabbed Heather's hand, jerking her into the woods. "Let's go, stupid," and they both laughed as they staggered into the darkness of the forest.
Still holding hands, surprisingly strong for two drunk young women, they walked further and further until the campfire was a small blur. Heather fell back against a big tree, laughing hard. "Oh god, oh god, oh god...my head is spinning!" she laughed. "I gotta pee...I'm gonna fall down...Kristen, help..." and she held to the sides of the tree with the back of her arms.
Kristen looked at her sister, who almost looked crucified to the tree in the moonlight. "Help...?" she stammered. She had a feeling this was it.
"Yeah..." Heather was now slurring and holding on to the tree. "If I don't get my shorts off, I'll pee myself."
Sweat came to Kristen's forehead and brought about some sobering reality. Deftly, she knelt down in front of her sister, who leaned with her back against the bent tree. She gripped the sides of Heather's dark shorts, applying a little arm strength to pull Heather's body from the tree just a little, and began to take down her sister's shorts. Kristen found it difficult not to breathe hard as the back of her fingertips ran down her Heather's soft legs as she pulled down the material.
"Hurry..." Heather breathed, as her shoes were removed to slip the shorts off. In her fogginess, she could feel the leaves under her bare feet and the light wind brush by her thighs. Kristen caught the beginnings of Heather's soft buttocks, and gently (and involuntarily) pulled down her sister's satin underwear. And in that moment, Kristen was face to face, saw it in the darkness, and could smell the scent of Heather's womanhood.
Kristen was still a bit foggy, but knew what she had...and wanted, to do. "Kneel down, Heather. I'll hold you up, so you won't pee yourself."
All Heather could do was slide her back down the smooth trunk of the big tree, and support herself on her heels. Kristen could smell even more of her scent because her legs were spread. And at that moment, Heather let out a gasp, and a forceful stream of liquid began to hiss into the ground. Kristen, holding Heather up by the knees, was fascinated. In the moonlight she could see the glistening stream coming from Heather's crotch, and ooze into the dirt. And as soon as she began, Heather finished. Then she murmured, and giggled, "I can't...get up."
Kristen was shaking. She responded deftly with her fingertips, moving her hands up Heather's legs. Heather was quiet, with her head back, eyes dreamily closed. The smoothness of her legs excited Kristen, who found her fingertips at Heather's upper thighs, where her panties should've been. Her hands then moved off to opposite sides, feeling the roundness of Heather's ass.
Kristen positioned her shaky hands on each buttock cheek. "We'll get up together, and I'll pull you up. On three." Heather slowly nodded. "One, two,...THREE." Using their legs to support each other, the two sisters rose together, Heather with her back to the tree. For an eternal moment, they stood there. Heather, now looking forward wearily, and Kristen looking back with her hands on her sister's backside. Her hands then released their semi-firm grip, and moved to her sister's hips. With no explanation, Heather reached out, and caressed Kristen's hair.Kristen, feeling such freedom as she's ever known, moved her left hand forward and ran her fingers through Heather's pubic hair. Closing her eyes, Heather gasped.
Heather ran her hands all over Kristen's soft ass. "It feels wonderful," Heather's mind fleeted. Just as it always would. Her hands moved around and touched Kristen's soft, virgin hair. Heather could feel the young, raw heat that emanated. She ran her tongue down Kristen's neck, causing her to silently gasp. "Heather...", Kristen moaned as she pulled her sister forward so their wet pubic areas could touch and share each other's heat.
Heather knew what she wanted. She slid her hands up Kristen's smooth belly. Kristen obliged by removing her T-shirt. Heather could barely make out Kristen's lacy bra in the deep moonlight, but knew the latch was in the front. With an effortless tug, she unfastened Kristen's bra, and her young breasts bounced free. With careful fingers, as to absorb every soft sensation, she slid the straps off Kristen's shoulders and let her ears take in the sound of her bra hitting the dry leaves at their feet. And, for the first time, Heather cupped both of her sister's breasts, and shuddered. She closed her eyes and let her fingers send the pictures of erotic reality to her brain. The soft feel of Kristen's young breasts, the curves that she could feel under her forefinger on top, and her thumb that weighed the weight of each, on the bottom. Her fingertips did an immediate glide across her nipples, and found them erect. Kristen moaned louder, and more fierce. They were no longer of this earth.
On instinct, Heather lowered her head and began to suckle Kristen's breast while fondling the other. Kristen clawed at the back of Heather's shirt until she found the backsnap for Heather's bra. Practically tearing it loose, she forcefully unsnapped it. Heather enjoyed every sensation of her breasts bouncing free, as the cool air rushed through her shirt. Kristen reached around and under and began to knead Heather's heavier breasts. Heather stopped, and slowly took off her shirt. The two sisters were facing each other totally nude, with a passion unbound. Kristen took Heather's hand and whispered "I want you." She took two steps back and sat on the ground. She could see the stars glittering over the treetops, then she saw Heather's face as she lowered her body onto Kristen. Their warmth melded as they kissed again, with hands roaming over their flesh.
Kristen parted her shapely legs as Heather ran her fingers over her pussy. "Put a finger in", Kristen moaned. Heather slowly slid her forefinger in Kristen's slippery vagina, and was in wonder as to how tight Kristen was. Kristen, feeling the waves of pain and pleasure awash her body, squeezed Heather's breasts, and pushed them against hers. She rotated her thighs faster and faster to Heather's beckoning finger, now deep inside her. Finally, almost to the point that she would scream, Kristen came, and Heather could feel Kristen's insides swell, and release an incredible amount of juice onto her finger. Kristen was floating in space. When she opened her eyes an eternity later, Heather was smiling at her. They both started laughing and kissed and hugged each other. Then, with a big smile, Kristen said, "Your turn..."
Heather knew what she wanted. She got up, and leaned forward against the tree, arms straight. She parted her legs invitingly, as she offered her sister what she had. Kristen could smell the sex in the air, as she bent down. Running her hands up and down Heather's smooth legs, she put her face close to Heather's shapely ass. Kristen used her tongue to massage the outside of Heather's labia, and for the first time, tasted the love nectar of another woman. Savoring its sweetness, her tongue became more aggressive, and began to dart between the lipfolds of Heather's aching vagina. Heather arched her back, and moaned unintelligible moans. Kristen was aware of what her sister needed, and forcefully shoved her tongue deep inside Heather's throbbing hole. The waves of pleasure attacked Heather's body without mercy. Her nails dug into the bark of the tree that supported her. Her naked legs tensed, she knew she couldn't hold out for very long. Then, as soon as one of Kristen's hands touched her breast, she exploded, washing her sister's merciless tongue with her juices. Her heart was pounding, and she breathed heavily.
She turned to Kristen. "God, that was fantastic. I can't believe how good you made me feel."
"I wanted you so bad", Kristen sighed, "I had to have you. I don't care if it's wrong. You feel so good."
Heather paused, and peered at her sister in the darkness. This was the person that took her to heights of awareness. If wrong, so be it. She would not let it go. She said, "I love you Kris."
She wanted to cry. "I love you too, Heather!" They held each other close, and kissed to commemorate their new-found intimacy.
Regardless, it was getting late, and the fire was dying. They all retreated to the safety of the tent. They saw the distant house lights as they zippered it shut, with only a flashlight to illuminate the tent. The three sleeping bags were already out, neatly adjacent to one another. Still reveling from the experience, Heather knew she wanted to sleep with Kris...but Mom would find out. Kris reflected her thoughts, but extended them, adding the memory of her mother touching her breasts, and she thought in a drunken stupor. Their mother was never this bold before, and with what just happened to them in the woods, their juices were flowing automatically. Angela saw the same look in Kristen's eye as she did in the bathroom. Heather looked the same...they were staring at her shapely breasts.
There was a long silence. The alcohol stripped away any embarrassment that might have been there. Angela grinned at her gazing daughters, "I used to let you two suckle...that's how they got this big."
Heather stammered a bit, still buzzed. "Really? Doesn't that hurt?"
Angela replied, "No...except when you were teething. I used to nurse you both all the time. You couldn't get enough, as I recall. I remember back then..."
Kristen swirled. "I just can't imagine...I mean..." She stopped.
Angela grinned. A little voice told her not to, but a drunken mind took precedence. "If you try it again, you'll remember..."
Kristen and Heather looked at each other. Unsure, they read each other's eyes, and looked at their half-naked mother, and her bountiful breasts. They were in the woods...no one would know.
They leaned forward together apprehensively, and were on their knees in a kneeling position. Kristen's lips tremored as she leaned forward and let her lips touch Angela's warm hard nipple. She felt the warmness of her mother's breast touch her cheek. Heather looked at her chosen breast briefly, and closed her eyes. Her lips too, found the nipple. Both began to suck automatically, as age-old automatisms kicked in.
Angela's eyes closed, and she ran her fingers through her daughters' hair. The sensation electrified her insides as she pulled them closer. Heather began to drift away with this wild sensation. Her touch began darting over Angela's nipple, causing her to moan quietly. Kristen cupped Angela's breast and began to suck harder. Their slurps could only be heard from within the tent. Heather could not ignore the eagerness between her legs, as she sucked harder. Angela cupped her own breast for Heather, and her other hand involuntarily went down her own side. Kristen opened her eyes and looked down. Angela's hand was in her own shorts, massaging her pussy. Still suckling, Kristen pulled aside Angela's shorts, and was given a view of Angela sliding her fingers over her moist and steamy labia. Kristen watched and wanted her.
Angela was moving into ecstasy. She began to massage Heather's shoulders, and fearlessly began to massage Heather's breasts, for the first time, through her t-shirt, half noticing she wasn't wearing a bra. Heather moaned, and began to rub her crotch through her shorts, and pulled up her shirt to feel her mother's hand on her naked breasts. Angela felt their warmth and was on the verge of orgasm. Her fingers touched Heather's nipples, felt the weight of her young breasts, and softly squeezed them. Angela plunged two fingers deep inside her hot vagina and moaned loudly. Kristen could feel her mother's shudders while sucking her breast, causing her to finger her own hard clit.
They all seemed to come together, Angela with her two daughters licking and sucking her bosoms, Kristen with her right hand massaging her crotch with a passion, and Heather, practically half naked, with her hand shoved in her own wet box. The tent was filled with moans of no return and ecstasy. They all seemed to rise together, to swell together. Someone squelched. Someone screamed. Then finally, it was quiet. They fell against each other in a sweaty heap.It was pink, very wet, and she could almost feel its hot yearning from the short distance. Her mother's hands caressed her ass as she lowered her head. Kris threw her head back as Heather's tongue explored her outer lips, sliding to her hard clit, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. Heather arched her back and moaned as Angela's fingers slid very easily into her hot box, fucking her with the other. With sexual hunger, Heather sucked the juices from her sister's vagina. Kris cupped her breasts and pulled on her nipples. She was about to come and pushed Heather's head in deeper, grinding it between her spread thighs. She watched her mother behind her sister with ecstasy, studying her breasts and her look of wanton lust. Kris came, waves of pleasure assaulting her senses and causing her to scream loudly. Hearing her sister come hard and tasting her young juices, Heather also came hard, her inner walls swelling around Angela's fingers that were deep inside. And Angela, rubbing her own clit, came when Heather turned about and sucked her breasts, and Kris stood up, letting her mother taste her for the first time.
They all made love for the next few hours until they were exhausted. The next morning, they woke up around 9 am, in each other's arms, nude. At first, no one said anything. This was the time that regrets would fly and promises of secrecy would be made. But instead, they all smiled, touched each other, caressed each other. They felt closer than they ever did and would not pretend the previous night never happened. Now, they were one. | 4 |
79,574 | A Bedtime Story4 | ...walking through your door, freshly showered, smelling of patchouli and orange blossom and being collected swiftly into your arms... kissing you deeply... but softly... hands everywhere... stroking your wakening cock through your jeans... I'm so in love with the way I feel when I'm with you... because I want you the way you want me. It's electric when we touch... makes me tremble everywhere.
Still kissing, you begin to move forward as I step back... moving backwards with you until the backs of my legs touch the edge of the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed, helping you as you struggle with your belt and zipper... dropping your jeans and pants to your knees. I take hold of your glorious cock and begin stroking it gently, firmly, while you pull your shirt up and over your head.
I look up at you and smile as I begin licking the length of your shaft from the head to the base...then up again... over and over... from time to time, sucking the head deeply when I reach it... tongue probing the tip... then back down, lifting my hand beneath you gently to suckle your balls into my mouth, one at a time... then push you backwards a bit, standing and letting the towel fall to the ground.
I position myself on my knees... you move closer, taking my fragrant wet hair in your hand as you guide my hungry mouth to your cock... I go, inch by inch, sucking deeply... until I'm devouring your entire length fast and hard... nails digging into your ass as you tighten your grip on my hair and hold my head still... 'take it, bitch' you hiss as you begin fucking my face...
Deeper and deeper until you're touching the back of my throat... I elicit the dirtiest sounds... gurgling obscenely... unable to stop my gag reflex... you thrust deeply and hold it there... I'm looking up at you as a tear rolls down my face... a reaction to being choked on a throat full of cock head... you lovingly wipe it away with the palm of your hand...and you release my hair... I reel backwards...
Squatting obscenely... gasping for breath... just when I'm able to breathe easy again, I feel your hand gripping a fistful of my hair again as you raise me back onto my haunches and force your cock back into my throat again... the feeling of my gullet convulsing around the head of your cock is just too magnificent... and you hold it there again... until I feel the earth spinning from oxygen deprivation... and you release me once more...
Drool and pre-cum string from the head of your cock to my lips... you love your filthy whore, red-faced and tear-streaked... catching her breath after your selfish abuse... and smiling like a perfect fucking slut... 'damn right, you like it, don't you, baby?' you whisper as you pull me up to my feet and push me onto the bed... 'spread your legs wide' you say and I do as I'm told... you run your fingers up and down my slippery fucking cunt, pleased with how wet I've become... and you crawl on top of me...
Your tongue entering my mouth just as your index finger slips inside me... kissing me softly... fingering my soaking wet cunt hard... your knuckles pounding into my flesh with each thrust of your up-bent finger... you're deep inside me now and you remain there... frigging your completely buried finger... making my thighs tremble. I sigh deeply into your open mouth... then you remove it fully, and move down my body...
Kissing my nipples, my sides...as I giggle... my belly... then finally you close your mouth over my aching cunt and breathe out deeply... teasing me... looking up, telling me you love the way my goddamn pussy tastes... you tilt your head and begin lapping at it with the soft middle of your tongue... and I nearly cum... almost to that point, you bring it to an abrupt halt as you penetrate the rim of my asshole with a forceful thumb...
Stopping just at the point of resistance... you begin circling my clit, counter-clockwise, waiting for me to relax and to accept your thumb inside me... slowly, you push further inside... deeper and deeper. Twisting your wrist with each further attempt. Once fully inside, you return 2 fingers in my soaked wet pussy and continue your tongue's assault on my clit...
Pounding into both holes with your now soaked fucking hand... after a minute, you rest your jaw as you sit up to watch your fingers disappear and reappear from my cunt and asshole... each one glistening with my lust for you... I'm out of my mind, gripping the sheets, eyes rolled in my head... legs spread wide open to you... I look so beautiful, laying on your bed like a fucking pretty little naked fuck doll, being finger-fucked...
Your cock is throbbing now... but it must wait... I've been such a good little whore... you'll reward me... removing your fingers without warning, I'm sent spiraling back to earth... when I come to, you're on your hands and knees beside me... and I jump up and stand behind you... palm between your shoulders, I push down and you collapse on the bed... ass still in the air... cock hanging beautifully at attention...
Your hands come back to part your cheeks wide... and I begin stroking your cock firmly while my tongue laps at your glorious asshole...up and down... side to side... soft, sensual tastes... I guide your hand to your cock to suggest you stroke it for me... I'm almost spellbound... watching you... it's so fucking sexy... 'eat my asshole, bitch!' you hiss and I, once again, come back to reality... more than happy to oblige you, I place my palms on your cheeks and spread you wide...
With steady soft tongue, I cover your asshole and thrash my head about wildly... sucking and licking and slurping and nibbling... my entire fucking face is buried in your backside and I'm in heaven... fucking heaven... my drool runs down to your balls and I begin to hear it as you stroke your cock furiously... I pull back, holding you open with the tips of my fingers, pulling away... and spit precisely...
Then I bury half my finger in your well-eaten asshole... little resistance at all... I can hear you moan and your cock jerks wildly as you begin moving back onto my finger... I'm just holding it still, in awe, thinking I could cum here and now... without any stimulation at all... watching my one rocking gently on my outstretched slender finger as he strokes his cock... all at eye level... watching my finger disappear into you...
'God, I want you to cum in me!' I moan as you push forward and free yourself from my finger... 'Come here, dirty bitch!' you whisper as I stand... you've moved to a sitting position and you grab my waist, pulling me on top of you... I raise up, steadying your cock with one hand while lowering myself onto your cock... so fucking wet I'M SO FUCKING WET!!!! There's no resistance at all and I sink all the way to the hilt... bottoming out... my skin against yours...
And we're still for a while... just reveling in the feeling... you of how tightly my cunt grips your cock... and me how you feel inside me... involuntarily twitching... you take my ass in your hands and guide me up and down, directing my rhythm... when I'm fucking your cock with the proper movement, you let go of my hips and lay back... just loving how I look bouncing above you...
Riding you perfectly... you just stare into my eyes with the most incredible love... I place a palm on your thighs behind me and lean back just enough to graze that sweet spot with each thrust... god, you feel so good inside me, baby? I'm gonna cum...
With that, I throw my head back, arch my back as my eyes roll back too... and you feel my pussy grip your cock in quick crushing waves... as I bite my bottom lip and whimper politely... cumming warmly all fucking over you... flooding your cock, your balls, your thighs... and you explode too... deep inside me... gripping my shoulders and forcing me down hard... harder...
Until my own orgasmic muscles have milked every last drop of spunk... I collapse on top of you... breathing deeply... smiling enough to nearly light the fucking universe. Loving how your cock feels, still inside me, as it softens. | 3 |
79,575 | A Bedtime Story 9 | ...thinking all day about how I went down on you earlier in your kitchen while you tended to your cuppa. And then admiring how sweetly I swallowed your thick spunk; how primly I wiped the corners of my mouth and rose from my knees to wink and prop myself against the counter while we wait on the kettle. You couldn't wait to get your hands on me. So you've taken me in your arms and given me a passionate, deep kiss. Then you whisper for me to take my clothes off, slowly, so you can enjoy the show. Keeping eye contact, I unbutton my jeans. Then I take the pencil from my hair and shake it loose, letting it fall down around my face. Lifting my shirt over my head and letting it slip out of my hands and onto the floor. Reaching back now, unfastening my bra, and it joins my shirt. Biting my lower lip and smiling at you, I unzip my Levis slowly and pull them down, wriggling them over my hips and stepping out of them when they fall past my knees. Pausing for a moment, I wait for instruction. "Take them off, Mel." I peel my purple cotton panties off as well and step out of one leg, leaving the other around one ankle like a proper whore. Taking a fistful of my hair, you pull me to you and hiss in my ear that you want me on my hands and knees. As you've instructed, I kneel down and plant my palms on the ground. I feel your glorious hands parting my ass cheeks so that both of my holes are exposed, displayed sweetly for you, glistening already. Smacking the backs of my legs, then my ass, again, then again HARD. Then rubbing sweetly over my blushing, abused skin. I can feel your breath draw in close to me, and then your glorious soft tongue laps deeply from the top of my cunt all the way to my asshole, slowly, so slowly. I whimper. You reach your forearm across my belly and grab my hair with the other, pulling me around forcefully. "Are you enjoying this, my cumslut?!" you growl and then push your hard cock into my mouth so unexpectedly that I gag and tears well in my eyes. But I smile as you pull out so I may catch my breath. Then you start to fuck my face, slow shallow thrusts while I tongue the tip and along the length of your shaft, and then pushing it deep into my throat and holding it there, pulling out just before my head is dizzy from deprivation of oxygen. Drool runs out the sides of my mouth and coats your balls. You lift me onto your bed and spread my legs wide, instructing me to finger myself. You watch as I circle my clit with my middle finger with a tiny, slow movement, enjoying the blush of my face and the wetness that now covers my slippery fingers. You whisper for me to put that finger inside me, and I do so. Your cock twitches, visibly, as you watch my slender finger disappear into the folds of my glistening cunt. "Mmm. You're getting fucking wet, dirty slut, fingering yourself on my bed," you chide as I look into your eyes, begging for your touch. "Very well," you respond to my silent plea. "Does my wet little whore need some help?" I whimper softly as you run your middle finger all around mine, busy with my own finger fucking, and you slip it inside my asshole without so much as a warning. After the initial surprise and a bit of obscene cooing from you, I relax and accept your finger, knuckle deep. In rhythm, we're both fingering me, and I'm about to fucking come off the fucking bed and float into the atmosphere, toes curled. I can see, by the movement of both your shoulders, that you're stroking your cock with the same tempo as your finger is fucking my ass. That's it, I cum immediately, gripping your finger tightly as you lean in to suckle my clit deep into your mouth, fucking me furiously with that finger and swallowing my honey over and over. It's trickling into your beard. OMG! I remove my finger, and you follow suit. I collapse, legs parted wide and obscene, and breathing deeply, blushing everywhere, tousled hair, trembling thighs. The waves of orgasm ebbing softly into an exquisite heady high. You take a fistful of my hair in your hand, move in to kiss me. I can taste my pussy on your tongue, and I moan deeply into your opened mouth. You pull me up gently to standing, then push me down onto my knees. I begin kissing your cock softly, suckling your balls, tugging at them, stroking your cock while my mouth follows, tonguing the tip at times, then dancing along the length of your shaft in others. My nails are digging into your ass. You love the way I look with a mouthful of your throbbing cock. Lust takes over, and you shove my head into you, holding me in place till drool runs from the sides of my mouth and onto your balls, then you release me. I'm gasping for breath. I look up at you and smile, keeping my eyes locked to yours as I take you back into my hungry wet mouth again, stroking you in rhythm, cupping your balls, sucking hard as I reach the head and then relaxing my throat to take you back in to the hilt. Every so often, you again take my hair in your fist and hold me there, your cock deep in my throat, gagging sweetly, eyes watering. "If you're a good little whore, I'll let you cum again after you eat my asshole." You withdraw and step back, grinning devilishly, you lie back on your bed, wrapping your arms around your legs, then raise up just enough to see if I'm with you. But I'm already covering your asshole with my mouth, and breathing, and French kissing, for lack of a better word, your glorious back door, as I press either side with the edges of my thumb of both hands, penetrating tongue lashings. I bury my finger in my soaked pussy while rimming you gently, teasingly. Holding your cock up towards your belly with my free hand, I trail the soft mid of my tongue from your asshole, up behind your balls, suckling them a bit, then up the underside of your shaft to suck your bell end, then back down again, sloppy and loud and rhythmic. Then with coaxing thumbs, alternating, over and over and over, I edge their tips closer and closer to your hole, commanding that asshole to open up for me, to let me inside. Palms flat on your cheeks now and pulling them apart, I press my face hard into you and nibble, then suck, then lap fervently. Then wrist upturned, I try to enter you, but you're impenetrable. I wrap my hand around your cock and begin to stroke you fully and firmly, then continue to attempt a ring finger, slowly. You relax, and the wet, sloppy entry appears. You breathe out deeply as I push inside you, to the first knuckle, and bend to a come hither, and slide so easily in and out, in and out. You've taken the reins and stroke your cock absent-mindedly as you lay back and enjoy my full finger, twisting, palm up and to each side, as I fuck you like my bitch, because I'm YOUR bitch, and you commanded it, and I love it, spitting and licking and sucking and fingering your happy hole until I think you're gonna lose your mind. Keeping my finger inside you, I ease my way to standing, and you scoot to the edge of the bed, positioning your legs so that my arm is between them, in front of me. With my middle finger still, best I can manage, inside your asshole, I lower myself, rear facing, onto your lap and impale myself on your raging hard cock. No resistance at all. I sink to the hilt with a loud, obscene slap of thighs against thighs, sweaty and gooey and glorious. I'm planted above you, and you're fucking up toward me while I crook my finger and graze that sweet spot inside you with only the firm pressure of its tip on each downward thrust to meet yours up. Your forearm is bracing my body, hand at my shoulder, elbow at my hipbone, keeping me from falling over as I focus on that finger in your asshole. Then I withdraw, scoot up your body until we're in a 69, and you're devouring my wet, wet cunt, and I'm watching my small finger disappear inside your asshole, hearing you moan deeply, feeling your breath change as your mouth covers my pussy. I'm stroking your cock now, in time with the fucking I'm giving you with my finger, and pre-cum oozes from your head. You're writhing beneath me, and eating my cunt so fucking good. I'm flooding your beard with honey. I dismount, and you sit up, beckoning, positioning me on all fours and smacking my ass hard, then again, HARDER. I moan deep and primal as you drive your magnificent cock into my soaking wet cunt. You gasp at how hot and fucking wet it is and how I hug your cock so fucking tightly. You're fucking me hard, with your fingers joining the rhythm inside my other hole, one then two fingers in and out, hard, then pulling out to admire how it gapes from the fucking by your expert hand. You lean over on top of me, kissing my tattoo, holding my hips firmly, you plow mercilessly into me, my ass rippling off of your hips with each thrust. Suddenly, your balls swell and tighten, and you fuck me faster, deeper, your hand has reached up and covered my mouth to keep me from screaming as you feel a gush of fucking hot cum flood our sex and you edge ever closer to exploding inside me, turned on more than you ever thought possible by your trembling, limp fuckdoll.impaled on your cock, cumming hard too. As your spunk gushes out from all sides with each pounding thrust. | 4 |
81,142 | null | . . ... .. .
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.. .. . . ... . . . .
Come back later. Tales await.
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94,142 | null | ...then she noticed that Sharon's face had fallen when Evelyn suggested this. "But Sharon seems to have taken quite a shine to my sexy young stud here. Why don't you do him, Sharon, while we watch? I might learn something from you!" Her voice was almost breaking with nerves, and she had almost revealed that Kevin was her son, but the rest must have taken it as lust. They nodded, and Sharon's face lit up. She turned and kissed Kevin, working his cock the whole time. She dropped to her knees and reached out to encircle his cock with one hand. She bathed the throbbing cockmeat with her tongue, running saliva over his shiny pole and tight, huge balls. Her hands were stroking the insides of his thighs, and she moved them upwards so that her fingertips lightly touched the underside of his penis. The guys were all gasping at her technique, and even Kelly was watching, entrapped. She had managed to completely disassociate the cock from her son and was enjoying watching this as though it was her real live porn movie. As she was thinking about how hot this was, Sharon formed an "o" with her lips and pushed them over the swollen head of her son's cock. Kevin moaned, and his head went back, eyes closed. She pushed the tight ring down his penis until she had four inches in her mouth and then stopped. Kelly could see Sharon's tongue working away by the way her cheeks swelled and relaxed. She was really going at him! Now Evelyn got involved. She knelt down behind Kevin and ran her tongue slowly down his back, over his asscrack, and down between his legs to his testicles. She pushed his legs further apart and sat between them, running her tongue all over his bloated ballsack. She sucked one of his nuts into her mouth, and then the other, and then kept alternating between the two. It was like watching her suck on two small eggs. In between sucks, she licked the thin line of skin that separated the two. Kevin was in heaven with not just one, but two women working away on his pleasure zones. He was breathing shallow and groaning up a storm. He knew that if this was the treatment he would be getting, he would be back for more without his mother! Kelly realized that she shouldn't be staring at her son like this, and also that there were two horny guys getting no attention. She turned and saw that they were both pumping their own cocks, their hands slick with spit. It was such a hot sight that she had to record it. She knelt and rooted through her handbag, pulling out her digital camera. Turning, she waved to the guys and got them to come over to her. They looked surprised but willing. Lining them up side-by-side, she had them jerk themselves some more and snapped off a quick shot. Alan came over to her and whispered in her ear. She grinned, nodded, and (against her judgment and very embarrassed) snapped off a picture of her son being sucked by the two women. She could print it out and give it to him as a memento of the event if nothing else. The thought of having these taboo photos really aroused her, so she set down the camera on the coffee table and beckoned to the two men. Kelly knelt down between the two men. She began jerking on Alan's thick cock while pushing her mouth onto John's longer tool. She noticed how her hand did not fit around the younger man's dick, and how she could only take six of the older guy's nine inches down her throat. She was out of practice. After a short while of this, she switched and tried to get Alan's cock into her mouth. She stretched her lips and teeth and managed to get them over the bulbous head, but could not go down on him. Her hand slithered around on John's now slick cock as she pulled him off. Backwards and forwards, she gave each man a share of her energetic mouth and vibrating hand. Kevin was watching his mom working on the two guys as Sharon and Evelyn worked away on him. The two women had changed positions, so that now Evelyn was deep-throating him while Sharon worked over his balls. She used her tongue a lot, and occasionally tickled his ass cheeks right where his hole was. His body jerked with each tickle of her tongue back there. The whole room was filled with the sound of wet blowjobs and handjobs, panting and sucking noises. After a few minutes of this, Evelyn got to her feet. "Come on, guys, I need some attention now. I'm dripping, and I bet so are Sharon and Kelly. What do you say, ladies, do you want some fucking?" All the while, she kept Kevin's cock in her hand as though she did not want to ever let go of the huge tool. "Yeah, I want my pussy pounded," joined in Sharon. Kelly took her mouth off John's cock and dropped Alan's. "Come on, Evelyn, I want to fuck you," said Kevin. Saying things like that in front of his mom and John really turned him on. He took Evelyn's hand and led her to the chair, where she spread her legs over the arms. Laying back, she spread her cunt lips lewdly, ready for Kevin. Kevin looked over to where John was pumping his cock and eyeing his mom. "I'd like to fuck you, Kelly, if you'll have me. I want to fuck you while your boyfriend fucks my slutty, dirty, depraved wife." "Sounds fair to me," Kelly grinned, thinking how slutty and depraved he would think her if he knew Kevin was her son. She knelt on the couch, bent over the back, and spread her amazingly long legs. Her pussy was slick and wet, her little clit standing up proudly. John walked over and knelt behind Kelly, between her open legs. "Shove it in me," Kelly was panting with lust now. "Fuck my pussy with your huge tool!" "Never one to let a lady down," John grinned, and he gripped the base of his hugely long shaft and guided his cock-tip into Kelly's slit. "Mmmmm," he groaned, "Man oh man!" He fed his cock into Kelly, sliding slowly up to the hilt in her tight hot pussy. "Oh fuck, oh God that's good," Kelly moaned. John grabbed hold of Kelly's wide hips and gripped them tightly as he slowly fucked his long dick in and out of the woman's clinging pussy. He could hear his dick sloshing in Kelly's cum juices. Sharon led her husband over to the sofa next to the two and had him sit down. She then turned around and sat slowly in his lap, holding his stiff thick boner in one hand and sliding her slick, sticky cunt down over it. He reached around and grabbed his wife's massive boobs, clutching them as he slipped inside. Once she had bottomed out on his six-incher, she began to rock her hips backwards and forwards so that it drove it deep and shallow inside her. Her sweetly curved stomach moved slightly as she fucked. "I love it when you have that thick fucker inside me," she groaned loudly. All recesses of the shy Sharon had vanished now, and she was competing with the others to make the most noise in the room. "That's it, Sharon, do me, fuck me," panted Alan, laying still with the patience of experience and enjoying the flared cunt of his young wife. Over with Kevin, he was just fucking his big nine-inch boner up into tiny Evelyn for the first time. She was spread over the chair, and her pussy just seemed way too tight to take him all in. She egged him on though, almost drowning out the screams he could hear from his mother. "Holy fuck, that's amazing!" Evelyn smiled up at him. "Go on, boy, get it up into me. Remember, I can take all of my hus..." She cut off here, groaning as her eyes rolled up into her head. Kevin was now buried deep in her, and she looked like she was in heaven. Spurred on by this great success - this was only his second fuck - he began to slowly drive his tool in and out of her. Despite being almost cherry, he was doing his best to look like an accomplished lover. After all, he was supposed to be Kelly's hot young stud. Evelyn leaned forwards and put her arms around his strong shoulders, locking her lips onto his and sliding her tongue down his throat. As he screwed her, he literally lifted her ass off the chair with each stroke. She was like a little doll against him, her small firm tits mashing against his chest. "Wow, God, Shit, Fuck, yeah," Kevin was gasping, really laying into Evelyn now. He was finding it easy to take long strokes with his cock, keeping at least four inches inside her at all times while using the last five to drive her wild. "Your pussy is so tight, Evelyn, so fucking tight!" "And your cock is huge! It's the largest I've ever had inside me! Fuck, I envy Kelly! I bet you fuck her noon and night, don't you, stud?" "Ummm... yes..." Kevin replied, glancing over to where John was doing his mom. He had no idea how tight his mom's cunt was, but John seemed to be laying it to her with a vengeance. She seemed to be really getting off on his huge cock and was clawing at the back of the couch. Kevin laughed at how funny it was to be here, fucking Evelyn, and watching his mom be done from behind by Evelyn's husband. Kevin turned back to Evelyn and kissed her again, dueling his tongue against hers. He was driving into her deeply, in and out, in and out, and she was driving her hips back at him, throwing her body against him as though his cock completely filled her up. Her thighs went around his hips, and she was ripping at his back with her nails.Her cunt was so tight, and yet Kevin could fit all of himself into her. He could feel that his nuts were about to blow, but he held back with all his might, wanting to get Evelyn off first. Kelly was creaming so hard from her fuck that she could barely stand it. It was almost too intense a fucking to bring her to orgasm. She didn't want to cum because she may pass out. She felt something at the entrance to her asshole and looked around, seeing that John had pushed his thick thumb inside her. She could feel that he had it up to his knuckle in her, like a mini cock. "Yes, screw my ass with your thumb! Fuck my pussy with your beautiful cock and push your thumb up my asshole!" John grinned down at her, his face flushed, and began to insert his thumb deeper.
Alan and Sharon were having a great marital fuck. "I'm gonna make you cum, Sharon, and then I'm going to do Evelyn and Kelly. I'm going to do them while you watch, because I know you like to see me do other women." "Oh yes, my lover. I do. I do. I do. Please make me cum with that thick dick of yours and then let me watch. Please! Cum inside my cunt first though, lover, I want all your fluid!"
Evelyn had almost passed out in Kevin's arms. She seemed exhausted by his tool but seemed very content to lay and let him do her more. He was looking over at John and his mother, watching Kelly being plowed with the man's huge cock. He couldn't get over how she was also taking John's thumb all the way up her ass, nor the older man's control over his fucking. He seemed to be keeping Kelly right on the edge of orgasm, no matter how much she screamed at him to make her cum.
Evelyn came alive in his arms and gave him an evil grin when she saw what he was looking at. "You like seeing your pretty older girlfriend get pounded by my husband, don't you?" Kevin blushed and nodded. He had actually enjoyed watching his mom get fucked like a bitch in heat. "Fuck me, Kevin, fuck me harder," she yelled out, "I'm going to cum, fuck!" Kevin did his best to fuck her harder, afraid he would tear that little body into shreds with his power. He watched as, finally, the sexy little minx began to climax. "Yes, come on, cum you fucking cock hungry bitch," he growled down at her, "Fuckin' do it!" "Oh... Oh... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... GOOOODDD!" Evelyn let out a wail like a banshee when she came. She clawed at Kevin, pulling his muscular young body tight against her and forcing his cock as deep up her pussy as it would go. Finally, he let himself go, throwing his cock into her and forcing her contracting cunt to take all of his seed. He felt his semen forced out of her as more replaced it, running down his thighs until he was spent. Evelyn collapsed backwards and his cock slipped out of her, throwing some ribbons of jism across her body. She lay panting for a minute and then gave him the biggest, happiest grin he thought he had ever seen. "Thank you, stud!" She said weakly.
The noise from the room slowly filled his ears. Kelly, his mom, was still yelling at John for more as he made her scream with each thrust. Alan had obviously cum inside the talented cunt of his wife, and the two lay together, hugging and panting. Seeing that Kevin had finished with Evelyn, Alan stood and smiled, ruffling his spiky hair. "Care to have a go at my wife now, Kev?" Kevin knew that he could stay hard for at least one more cum and nodded. Alan went over and got Evelyn down on the floor on all fours and swiftly pushed his cock into her sperm-lubricated cunt. He took over where Kevin had left off, driving big strokes into Evelyn as she clawed the floor and yelled at him to do her.
Sharon had meanwhile climbed over the back of the couch, mirroring Kevin's mother. She had her ass up in the air, and the young teenager could not help but admire, although it was big and round, how tightly muscled it was. Her pussy was peeking from between her big thighs, but she did not want him there. "Fuck my ass, Kevin!" She wiggled her smooth globes at him. "Ram me in my shitter!" The lewd orders turned Kevin on even more, and he knelt on the couch between her spread legs. He loved the way her dark eyes were looking at him imploringly, her nostrils flaring, desperate for an ass fucking. He worried about breaking her ass with his big cock and his experience, but put the flared head at her hairless pink anal chute nonetheless. He need not have worried - Sharon had obviously been ass fucked on many occasions by her husband, and Kevin's cock was still amazingly slick with his juices mixed with Evelyn's. Her clean asshole opened up easily for him, and he slowly inched his pecker up her bottom, hearing her scream get louder the deeper he went. He worried he was hurting her with his big, thick boner, but she was pushing back at him too, driving him further into her bowels. "Please... please... oooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Wailed Sharon as he got close and, eventually, bottomed out. His wispy pubes were resting against her bubble butt. "Now fuck it, you gorgeous stud!" She yelled at him, her eyes still liquid and pleading. Kevin began to fuck his tool back and forth in the nipping tight grip of Sharon's anus, buggering her royally.
Both John and Kelly were watching what was going on. Kelly had rested her body on her elbows on the back of the couch, and as John fucked her, her erect nipples brushed the soft material. This drove her even wilder. Through slitted eyes, she watched as her son sodomized the beautiful big teenager, realizing on some level that this was probably the boy's first assfuck. She was proud of the way he was handling himself, and the sight of a teen as gorgeous and real as Sharon being fucked by a stud only a year younger than she would turn anyone on! "I've gotta cum soon, John," Kelly moaned, "Cum, cum, cum, must cum with your cock in my pussy and your thumb up my ass! I'm gonna cum...with this big fucking cock...in my cunt...oh yeah. UUUUUH! FUCK!!" She climaxed hard, impaling herself fully on John's throbbing meat and digit and grinding herself on his cock, her pussy spasming ecstatically with John's big weapon sheathed in her snatch. John grabbed her waist with his free hand and pulled her back against him, wanting to sheathe himself entirely in her spasming body. Kelly shuddered through her orgasm and then dropped back, allowing his cock to slip from between her pussy lips. John had not cum yet, and his glistening tool stood upright from his crotch. Kelly turned around and kissed him, her tongue deep in his mouth, her hand on his slick cock. Kelly then stepped down off the couch, grinning at all the lewdness going on around her.
Her son was taking Sharon up the ass whilst Alan was apparently driving Evelyn into the carpet while the thin woman writhed like a snake. Kevin was burying himself balls deep into Sharon's guts and fucking her hard. She seemed to be able to take anything up her asshole that he could give. He knew his second orgasm wasn't far off, and hearing and seeing his mom cum hadn't helped him one bit. Once it came, he knew trying to hold back would be futile. "Screw me, do me harder, stud," Sharon urged him, "Fill me with cum, you horny motherfucker." Kevin heard Kelly giggle at this. He blushed, felt lucky that his face was flushed from all the sex. He wasn't a motherfucker. He was a motherfucking voyeur, though!
Meanwhile, Alan was coming to the end of his tether inside Evelyn's tight pussy. Despite being very slippery from Kevin's cum, she was still amazingly vice-like, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Oh Jesus, yes, yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" He gave a triumphant roar at his second cum of the night, driven higher as he felt Evelyn's grasping cunt ripple into orgasm as he filled her again with sticky sperm. It dribbled out and dripped down her thighs. "Yeah, that's it, Alan, fill me with cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmm!" She cried, her pussy trying to suck more and more from him. "CHRIST!" Alan gasped, amazed at the power of his climax, "Fuckin' hell!" His pulsing erection spat forth almost a dozen jets of cum before he was finished, his balls at least partially emptied of their hot load. He raised one hand and slapped Evelyn's upturned ass, leaving a hot red handprint. He had fucked her numerous times before and knew that she loved pain right during orgasm. With his flagging tool up her pussy still, Alan leaned forwards and placed a row of kisses up Evelyn's back. He looked up to see John looming over them, his stiff cock in Kelly's hand. "Good one, buddy?" John asked. "As always!"
Kevin hit his climax right then, and they all looked over to see his upturned ass twitching as he delivered a milky load into Sharon's bowels. Her ass seemed to suck it up, and none leaked out. He kept her stoppered for a brief moment before noticing everyone - including his mom - was watching him. Pulling his now-flagging cock out, he grinned as he saw Sharon's now red anal ring wink shut. He was going to enjoy fucking ass. "I think it's my turn with that little lady," John said and crossed over to Sharon. He had her lie back, her arms above her head, while he sucked and licked at her tits before finally, at the urging of the others, drove his pecker into her spermy pussy.
There was an awkward moment as mother and son looked at each other. They realized that the next obvious combination in everyone's eyes would be the boyfriend and girlfriend. Except that they weren't lovers, they were family. They were both amazed that they could even look at one another. Kevin's flagging cock was coated in his own sperm, and the cooze of two women. Kelly's pussy was red and sore from the pounding she had gotten. Both looked sweaty and tired and tousled. Alan and Evelyn were looking expectantly at them... | 4 |
111,017 | John Carter | ... to cross that dark chasm that exists in heart and soul.
There must be a greater meaning to your life than you have found thus far.
So screamed an angry wind that held his heart in a frigid grasp.
All he knows is what all men know. The fear of a little boy as he faces a larger one in a playground fight; more afraid of being called a coward than he is of getting hurt or losing. There is the pride and accomplishment that comes from building something new. There is the rush of power and that little thrill that comes with tearing down something old and rotten. There is the confusion that arises as a result of being asked what he feels by a woman he loves and the knowledge that his inability to answer arises from not knowing rather than an unwillingness to share. There are even simple things of life that define him, like the relief that spreads forth from his bladder when he relieves himself first thing in the morning.
He knows that the urge to procreate exists in every part of his mind and body; it colors his whole view of the world. He remembers that thrill felt as a young man when he actually got his first feel of a woman's breast even though a bra covered it. There is the remembrance of the embarrassment felt as a teenager when he would get erect in class for no reason at all; the dread that everyone would know of his excited state and laugh at him. There is that sense of rightness in how his hand fits around his cock as he strokes his erection while fantasizing. There is the accompanying unease at the chance of being caught masturbating that drives him to finish as quickly as possible and abort the full potential for pleasure that the act promises. There is that catch in the throat when he looks down at a woman sucking his cock and sees that she is looking up at him with a smile in her eyes. There is that indescribable pleasure of entering a woman in that most intense act between man and woman. He fears the devastation that would come from having a woman laugh at the size of his cock or ridicule his performance as a man. He wants to deny that day when he finally becomes too old or ill to get an erection and thus prays that day will never come.
He knelt beside the fire pit, a stone pressing into his right knee, irritating, but insufficient to force him to change his position. Ignoring his discomfort, he poked through the ashes looking for the dull red of a last remaining ember. In the pre-dawn light, even the faintest glow would stand out. Finding one, he worked it to the center of the pit with a small stick. He placed a small piece of dried moss upon the ember and blew gently. His breath coaxed the ember to glow a little brighter and the grayish-green moss began to smoke. Then, with the suddenness that always surprised him, it burst into a fragile flame with a weak wisp of smoke rising from it that was easily lost in the gray light. With the care that comes from long experience, he laid sticks across the wavering flame and blew gently as he resurrected the fire that had burned through the night.
He rocked back until he rested buttocks on heels and gazed with simple pleasure at the result of his labor. He watched the steadily growing flame until he was satisfied that the fire needed no further care for the moment.
Looking up, he watched day break over the eastern horizon; performing what had become a religious ritual. The unseen sun was lighting up the sky, painting it blue against the gray background that slowly spread upwards. He smiled at the lack of red on the horizon that according to sailor wisdom meant there would be no rain that day. A cold wind that lasted no more than three seconds disturbed the quiet air, bringing a chill that spread across his whole body. Every morning that wind blew through and he felt this indicated a magic moment. By the time the chills subsided, the sun broke the horizon signaling the beginning of a new day.
Muscles stiff from holding the same position too long, he rose with great difficulty and examined the camp. From the leather case on his belt, he removed his compass and turning north, strode fifty paces into the woods; chased by the barking of squirrels disturbed by this strange presence. He looked up and spied his orange backpack hanging from a rope thrown over a branch of a stately oak. The bright yellow of the ski tow line stood out in sharp contrast to the bluish gray background of the sky and the green leaves of the oaks. He followed the rope to where it was tied on a separate tree and pulled on the free end of the rope, thereby releasing the knot. Lowering the backpack, he watched the swaying of the branch over which the rope hung. He marveled at the nature of the forces that translated his angular release into a gradual lessening of the forces sustaining the pack against the force of gravity.
When the pack finally reached the ground, he went to it and retrieved the rope. He coiled the rope and replaced it in its normal position. Hefting it, at least ten pounds lighter now than two weeks ago, he deftly swung it around while slipping his arms into the straps. Having performed the act several times a day for the past month, it settled into place very naturally.
As he walked back to camp, he took a little more time to watch the antics of the squirrels. Bushy tails flattened behind, ears laid back, and a ferocious look pasted across their faces, they barked their displeasure at him. These truly wild animals had not seen a human in at least ten of their generations. Unlike their tamer brethren that lived in and around cities, these squirrels would not eat any bread that he might leave out for them.
Reaching his camp, he set down his backpack next to his bedroll and carefully opened it. There on the top was his metal cup and the container of coffee. He filled the cup with water from his canteen, added two spoons of the extremely finely ground coffee, and two packets of sugar. He preferred the packets of sugar as it simplified measurement, storage, and left waste that was easily burned in the fire. After burning the paper from the packets, he threw several handfuls of dirt upon a portion of the fire. He set the cup upon the dirt. The dirt would heat up and form a natural medium heat that would brew a very strong Greek coffee in about 20 minutes.
Seating himself on his bedroll and next to the backpack, he removed his well-worn leather-bound journal. Once it had that fresh leather smell; now it smelled of wood smoke, leaves, and sweat. He opened it to the first black pages and removed the pen from the penholder built into the spine of the book. Checking his watch, he wrote:
June 21 6:45 AM
I stayed up late last night watching the stars. The night was very clear and the stars presented themselves in all their glory. I never fail to have that sense of wonder that I imagine primitive man had when he first stared up at the night sky and realized that the stars were more than just décor but were something magical. The moon was full and so bright that you could have read a newspaper. Amazing what you see when you leave the lights of the city.
Just before falling asleep, I saw a most amazing sight. Three meteors simultaneously raced across the sky perfectly in parallel with each other. They were well spaced so that I could easily tell which one was closest to me. The one closest to me was the smallest, the middle one was about twice the size of the small one, and the furthest was huge. There had been no meteors before that or afterwards.
He took a moment to read what he had written and, satisfied that his entry had captured all of the events of the previous night, slipped the pen back into the holder along the spine. Removing the map from the back of his journal, he opened it and examined it for a couple of minutes. Reaching into the backpack, he removed the GPS and read off his location. He checked that against the point that he had marked the night before and nodded when the two locations matched. Folding the map, he replaced it in the journal and returned the journal and the GPS to the backpack. He glanced over at the coffee and saw that it wasn't ready yet; it never was by this time.
He stood up and lifted up his bedroll. Holding along the long side, he shook it with a great snap to remove any bugs, leaves, or other debris that might be stuck to it. It took only a half a minute to fold it into thirds and then roll it into a tight bundle. He tied it with four strings that he retrieved from his backpack. Setting it down next to the backpack, he squatted and removed two small packages from it. The packages contained a small piece of sausage and the hard cheese. It wasn't much, but it was more than sufficient for a cold breakfast.
He checked the coffee again and found that it was ready and very hot.Using his shirttail, he lifted it by the handle from the mound of dirt and set it aside to cool. Rich foam topped half of the cup. The aroma of the coffee filled his nostrils and brought back memories of the Greek woman who had taught him to make coffee in this fashion. He remembered the time she had made a cup of coffee with a distribution of foam almost identical to what was on the cup he was now examining. She told him that a major change in life was indicated. That same day, an event happened that completely changed his life. Even now, the memory of that day brought a shudder to him. Since then, he never touched alcohol or drugs; he turned from dropout to determined student.
Breaking away from his reflections, he took a bite of the sausage. His stomach twisted in response to the strong flavor of garlic so early in the day. He grimaced but continued to eat. Alternating between bites of sausage and cheese, he slowly consumed his breakfast. Occasionally, he would take the time to sip his coffee, enjoying the strong flavor and rush of caffeine. It wasn't long before he had nothing left but half a bite of sausage and cheese. He set them aside, saying, "For the Gods and Goddesses."
With a quick flick of his wrist, he emptied the contents of his coffee cup onto the remains of his fire. The sudden onslaught of wet coffee grounds threw up a cloud of steam laced with the heavy scent from coffee smoking amongst a few remaining coals. He added a small amount of water to the cup, swirled it with a deft flick of the wrist, and tossed the water onto the fire again. The last coals died with a protesting hiss. His cup was free of coffee grounds.
He added more water to the cup and dunked his toothbrush into it. After a minute of vigorous brushing, he spat out the white foam into the fire pit. A quick sip from the cup and a general swishing of the water through his mouth was followed by another splash of water hitting the fire pit. The fire pit was now a mess of sodden ashes and half-burnt sticks. He drank down the mouthful of water that remained in the cup.
It only took another five minutes of work, and all of his possessions were packed into the backpack or tucked into his pockets. With a patient scan over his campsite, he assured himself that there was little or no trace of his stay. A small mound of dirt where his fire pit had been and a small piece of cheese and sausage were all that remained. The flattened grass where he had slept would stand again in a day or two. He took considerable pleasure in performing the strict routine of his morning tasks.
It was after three hours of leisurely hiking that a chill ran up his spine. He froze in place as he struggled to come to grips with the unnatural feel of his surroundings. Everything was too quiet. There was no wind and no birdcalls. He listened carefully, trying to identify the source of his uneasiness, yet nothing reached his ears. As he looked around, it seemed as though the colors were too bright. The greens of the leaves, the browns and grays of the trunks and branches of the trees, and the blue of the sky screamed at him. There was a profusion of colors. The light hurt his eyes with its intensity.
The sound of a branch moving struck him like a whip. His head swiveled to see what had caused the noise. He stared in shock as a naked woman stepped from the forest. A current of electricity raced through him. His cock went from placid to erect instantly and painfully.
Time seemed to stop as she stood at an angle to him, allowing him to take in her beauty. She was the perfect woman incarnate. Her stance was one of complete ease and confidence. Her right leg supported her weight. The left leg was angled to the side, the toes just touching the ground. Her left hand rested upon her hip. There was no trace of embarrassment in how she presented herself to him, although there was no modesty in her pose.
Her skin was silky white and totally unblemished. Her light brown hair hung to the top of the most sensational ass that he had ever seen and partially covered her breasts. Her gravity-defying breasts were the perfect size, not too big and not too small. The pencil eraser-sized nipples were erect, rising proudly from the light brown aureole.
Her face was perfect. Her eyes watched him with direct and piercing intensity, tempered with a softness that spoke of a deep understanding of mortal frailty. The irises were the color of emeralds and shone with a light of their own. Her lips were a natural reddish hue that gave them a sensuality that no lipstick could ever achieve. Her lips, raised slightly in a wry smile, conveyed a sense of amusement. The cheeks shone with a natural blush.
His gaze returned to her eyes, and through them, he saw himself. He felt as though he were the one naked. He knew himself to be filthy from hiking for two weeks without a civilized shower. It had been two days since he had washed himself, and that time was in a pitiful stream where the best he could do was wet his shirt and wipe himself with it. The knees of his pants were permanently stained from kneeling in the dirt and grass.
He was not really embarrassed by his physical appearance. That was minor. It was the fact that he knew his soul was laid bare for her to examine at her leisure. At that moment, he had an epiphany. He realized there was a significant difference between being naked and nude. Naked was being exposed and vulnerable to others. Nude was merely lacking clothing. She was nude, and he was naked, although he still wore his clothes. Her secrets were still safe, while his were exposed for all to see.
She beckoned him to follow with her right hand. Dazed and confused, he followed her. He felt a panic rise on those few occasions when she would disappear as she walked around a tree. The panic would only subside when she became visible again. His erection never flagged. In fact, it seemed as though it was stronger with each step that he took. It became painful to walk.
He had no idea how far or in what direction they walked when she suddenly stopped beside a ravine. He stopped next to her and stood there, never taking his eyes from her. She turned and smiled. With an unexpected ferocity, she tore the clothes from his body. She moved with an unnatural speed and exercised tremendous strength. His leather belt snapped as the blue jeans were ripped off him. He never saw the shirt disappear, but knew that it was gone when shreds of it floated on the breeze around him. One moment he was dressed, and the next he was naked with a painful erection reaching towards the sky.
Before he even had a chance to react, she threw him to the ground and mounted him. There was nothing giving about this act. She was taking and doing so without any regard to his pleasure. She rocked herself on his cock. It felt as though she were trying to break it off. She grabbed his arms and squeezed painfully, drawing blood where her fingernails had become embedded in his flesh. She growled like a wild animal and stared into the sky as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. With each orgasm, her movements became even less gentle, although he thought it was not possible.
Despite the brutality of the act, his body reacted. His arousal grew, and soon he came within her. He convulsed as spurt after spurt of cum rocketed into her. He would never be able to recall how long he came, but it felt like hours. After he ejected the last blast of cum, she gently rubbed her hand across his face and dismounted from his cock.
When the intensity of his orgasm finally diminished to a point where he was again aware of his surroundings, he looked up to see her towering over him. She pointed across the ravine to a tree. He looked in the direction she had pointed and saw a golden flash as a medallion hung from the branch of the tree, twisting in the wind. He looked back at her, and again she gestured towards the medallion. He gazed at it and looked to her again. Now she frowned and pointed at the medallion a third time. Understanding crashed upon him as he realized that he was supposed to fetch the medallion for her.
Confused and in pain from the physical pounding she had given him, he stood and walked to the edge of the ravine. It was only fifteen feet or so deep and thirty feet across. A beautiful blue stream, teeming with fish, snaked its way through the ravine. Lush green plants grew in great profusion.
He lowered himself over the edge and carefully started to make his way down. He had to be careful to protect his naked body from further insult by the sharp edges of the stone comprising the wall of the ravine. When he had gone down about fifteen feet, he glanced down. The bottom of the ravine was still fifteen feet below him. Confused, he looked up only to see that the top of the ravine was fifteen feet above him. He continued to lower himself, glancing upwards occasionally. The edge of the ravine soon rose impossibly far above him. The bottom remained fifteen feet below him.
He was taken by surprise when he finally reached the bottom. Stepping back, he looked up and saw that the edge of the ravine was only fifteen feet above him. He shook his head as though to clear it as he turned away from the wall of the ravine. His nose was immediately assaulted by the odor of rot and decay. Instead of lush green plants, plants that were pale and brown surrounded him. The plants were mushy and squished between his toes. He stopped for a moment, wondering how she had managed to rip his leather hiking shoes from his feet. Steeling himself to the task at hand, he stepped carefully, making his way the few feet to the stream. What had appeared to be a blue stream was now shown as a muddy swamp clogged with algae and dead fish.He searched for stepping-stones, but realized quickly that there was no way to cross without walking through it.
Taking a deep breath of the rotten air, he grimaced as he stepped into the muck. Each step released a horrible bubble of noxious gas that threatened to make him vomit. He marched for hours to cross the swamp. He was fearful that if he tried to turn back, he would never make it out alive.
At a point that appeared to be halfway through the swamp, he encountered a naked young girl, about eight years of age, crying to herself. He stopped and knelt down to put himself at eye level with her. He spoke softly and gently, "Hello there. Are you lost?"
The young girl sniffled, "Yeah, I want out of this icky mess."
"My name is John. What is yours?"
The young girl paused for a minute and then answered, "Missy."
"Okay, Missy, how about you and I walk in that direction for a while?"
The girl started to cry even more, "I don't want to walk in this icky mess any more. I wanna go home to mommy and daddy."
He stood there for a minute and considered his options. Not finding any options that he liked, he told her, "Why don't you climb on my shoulders and I'll carry you that way?"
She smiled, "Are you giving me a horsy ride?"
He nodded his head and knelt down for her to climb on. It only took her half a second to settle on his shoulders; legs hanging over each shoulder and her arms around the top of his head. He stood with more than a little struggle, and stated in as cheerful of a voice as he could muster, "Here we go!"
Missy shouted out, "Yippy!"
He started his march through the swamp. Each step sank in deeper, and it was hard work lifting his foot out of the muck. He was definitely tired, and this was going to tire him even faster. Each step led to larger releases of noxious gas than when he walked alone.
As he marched, he thought about his situation. Here he was, a naked adult carrying a naked girl in the wilderness. The naked girl wasn't even a relative. When he got across the swamp and finally met up with someone, he was likely to be sent to jail as a pedophile. There was no way that he could relate the events that placed him in this position to any sane or rational person, much less someone who was outraged at the apparent offense. He would end up in jail, there was no doubt of that. There was no way that he could set her down and leave her here though. To do that would be a real crime and one that he would have to live with for the rest of his life.
His morose thoughts and the sheer effort to take each step demanded all of his attention. So again, he was surprised when he finally made his way out of the swamp, although the plants on this side were definitely more disgusting than they had been on the other side. There was no way that he would set the girl in that mess. He walked through the mess, watching as maggots wriggled in the mud and flies bit his ankles and legs. It was with temporary relief that he finally reached the wall of the ravine. He thought he knew what to expect now.
Now he had to figure out how to climb up the wall and get the young girl up the wall as well. He set her down near the wall, much to her complaints. She had been enjoying the ride through the swamp. He leaned down and stated, "Sorry about that, I have to rest before trying to climb up the wall. Can you climb a little?"
Missy thought about it for a minute, "I'm afraid to fall."
He thought about it some more and decided there was still a chance, "How about you climb up first and I'll be right behind you to catch you if you fall?"
He took a minute to catch his breath and work some of the tension out of the muscles of his back. He helped the girl up the wall before reaching out to climb up the wall himself. As he climbed, the rock face crumbled under his hands. He had to take his time and work his way up carefully. Several times, the girl started to slip, and he caught her before she fell much. The sudden strain on his muscles drained what little reservoir of strength that he had. Once, as he was reaching up to find a solid handhold, the rocks he was using for support gave way. He slid twenty feet down the face before catching something solid. He screamed out in pain at the cuts on the front of his body. He glanced down to see that his genitals were a bloody mess. He was exhausted beyond human endurance. His body was racked in pain. The only thing that kept him from quitting was the knowledge that if he quit, there would be a little girl lost in this horrible environment. He climbed up to where Missy was watching him with terror in her eyes. He smiled, "Don't worry about me, I would have caught you too."
Missy nodded, "Ok."
They started to climb together, her leading the way and him right behind her ready to catch her at a moment's notice. They climbed, and the more they climbed, the more determined he became to reach the top. Progress became measured in inches. Determination and focus on his goal drove him up the wall of crumbling stone. Muscles burned, each breath rasped in his throat, and sweat running into his eyes blurred his vision. He was not surprised when he finally reached the top. He was unaware that he had reached the top until he realized that he was standing in front of the tree from which the medallion hung, with the young girl standing next to him. He smiled down at her, "We made it out of that icky place!"
She smiled, "Yea!"
He turned to the tree on which the medallion hung and stated, "Let me get this, and then we can go find your home. Ok?"
She frowned, "Do you think my daddy will be angry at me to find me without my clothes?"
He ran his hand through her hair and answered, "Honey, he's going to be so happy to see you that he won't be mad at you about your clothes."
"That's good. I don't like it when daddy gets mad at me. He's real big and scary when he gets mad."
He thought about it. All he needed now was a big scary man finding him naked with the girl. Hands trembling, he reached out and grabbed the medallion. Lifting it off the branch, he held it in his hands not seeing it. He stared at his hands. The little finger of his left hand was twisted into an unnatural position. The skin of both hands was torn and bloody. All his fingernails were broken. He looked again and realized that one fingernail had come off completely.
Numbly he turned to face the ravine only to find the woman standing next to him. She smiled and pulled the medallion from his hands. With dignity and honor, she hung the medallion around his neck. In a voice that seemed to reverberate through the air, she said, "John Carter, it is time for you to rest."
He woke leaning against his backpack beside a stream. His clothes were whole and clean. In fact, his clothes looked as good as new. There were no injuries and no pain. He was whole and clean as though he had just had a hot shower. His beard, grown over the month that he had spent out in the wilds, was trimmed and neat. His confusion only increased when he felt an unusual warm feeling spreading from the medallion hanging about his neck. He reached down and touched the medallion. Shaking his head, he said, "I guess it wasn't a dream."
As though it was an affirmation, a wind suddenly blew through the trees. The leaves shook. They made a rustling sound as though a hidden audience was moving about. The branches of two adjacent trees banged against each other as though applauding. Chills raced up his spine. He shook himself and took a couple of minutes to collect his thoughts. He decided it wouldn't do him any good to try to puzzle out recent events, but that he did need to take care of the now. The first thing that came to his mind was that he had no idea where he was.
He pulled out his GPS from the case on his belt and retrieved his map from the backpack so that he could check his location. To his surprise, he found that he was only a thirty-minute walk from the town that was his destination for the day. He didn't expect to arrive there until late in the afternoon. He checked his watch and was shocked to find that it was flashing random numbers instead of the date and time. The sun was directly overhead, so that made it about noon.
He replaced his belongings to their proper locations before standing up. Checking his compass, he headed towards town. He decided that he would eat a good meal, spend the night in a hotel, and only then would he try to figure out what had happened that morning. Now that he had a plan, he resolutely set about executing it. He was almost in town when a thought that had been in the back of his mind forced itself to his consciousness, 'I was raped by a woman.' He revised that statement; he had made love with a tornado. | 5 |
1,231 | Wesley's Break | 'All I've been doing is sitting around!' thought Wesley. 'I am so bored!'
His eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long. Since he had been on leave from the Academy, all of his studies had been suspended to give him a 'break' from school. Not only a break from all of his studies, but most of his duties had been too. The worst part was that he wasn't scheduled to catch a transport to go back to the Academy for another two weeks. He had requested to have some more assignments, but the captain himself had insisted that he take the time off. While the captain looked back on his time at the academy with a certain fondness, he also remembered that it was the busiest time in his life. Consequently, Wesley started to do some studying for his next few courses at the Academy. Advanced Biology was one of his first courses, so he had been pouring through the reference texts in the computer.
"...Wesley?"
"Huh? Who?" said Wesley. Suddenly he realized he was talking to air, then he realized, "Crusher here."
"And here as well. Wesley, I expected you in the Lab 15 minutes ago, or does your busy schedule have no room for quality time with your mother?"
"Oh, sorry Mom. I was just think... Never mind, I'll be there in a few minutes, OK?"
"OK, Crusher out."
"Crusher out," he groaned.
"God, that really gets on my nerves." Wesley smiled to himself. He glanced at the screen again and noticed what was on the screen. "That's it. All I do is... no, I gotta get going." He tapped the screen to shut it off and slipped out the door to Med Lab 3.
Beverly understood what Wesley was going through. There had been times when the most she could look forward to in a day was a couple of checkups and some paperwork. However, she never complained about the slow times. All she had to do was to remember the several times when she had to convert several of the ship's cargo bays into makeshift 'field hospitals' and run herself ragged for days on end. To keep Wesley busy, she had allowed him access to one of the Med Labs that weren't being used. Fortunately, the med lab was visible through one of the windowed walls. Their original purpose was to let the nurse on duty keep an eye on the patients, but in this case, it let her keep an eye on Wesley.
She heard the familiar hiss of the door, and Wesley strode in.
"Wesley, I let you borrow a whole lab to let you 'study' for the advanced biology class," she said with a stern look on her face.
"Oh, come on, Mom. No one is using that lab, and you know it." They both smiled.
"Well, maybe, but that doesn't get you out of doing some work. Now you know what I am doing is against the Captain's orders, so if you don't use it, you lose it," she said with a little more conviction in her voice.
"OK, I do have some things I was working on."
"Anything I can help with? If I do say so myself, I am a little good in biology," she smiled, knowing what the response would be.
"No, thanks. Besides, you won't be there when I am taking the Lab finals in my courses," he said as he wandered over to the Lab.
She could see a few of the monitors from her office, and she could see the diagrams of organs from species in this sector.
Wesley powered up the main terminal in the lab. He had the info that he was looking at in his quarters up on the screen. He had lofty goals, and he didn't expect to finish the project, but he had stumbled onto something. He started to work furiously, having the computer run simulations and tests on his new hypothesis.
Beverly came into the lab first thing in the morning, and Wesley was already there, or had he never left? She thought that he must be tired, but then realized that he was doing what he loved best. He was working. She decided to let him have his 'fun', but that she would have a talk with him later.
Wesley had been working furiously. His first test was ready. He had run the simulations dozens of times over the last night. Maybe it was the excitement or maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he picked up the hypospray and put it up to his own arm. He heard the hiss, and then he decided to go scan himself on one of the med station's beds. He turned off his terminal, turned on the bed sensors, and then slipped into sleep. The lights lowered in the lab. 'Good,' Beverly thought. 'He needs the rest.'
End Part 1
CHAPTER: Part 2 - Awakenings
CORRECTED_TEXT:
Wesley blinked a few times and slowly lifted himself from the bed. He blinked a couple more times and realized that the lights had been turned down in the lab. He was ready to have the computer raise the lights slowly when they suddenly snapped back to full strength.
"Well, it's about time, I thought I was going..."
"What do you think you were doing!?! First you pester me to come down here, now you stick red hot pokers in my eyes. Can't I have just a moment of peace?" He spun around and walked away to clean up a bit.
Beverly choked back a response and went back to her office. She would let him cool off a little and come back later to have a little 'chat'. He had definitely never talked to her like that before.
Wesley splashed some water on his face. 'That bitch! I really wish I could teach her a lesson.' Suddenly, images and ideas began popping into his head. "Yes, of course! My research. I can adapt it for a little surprise."
Wesley's original research had been into slowing the aging process. He had thought of the idea while reading about Ponce De Leone in his ancient myths class. He hadn't really taken the idea seriously, but it was a good time killer. While doing his research, he drifted into ideas of slowing the process using viruses keyed to activate certain glands in humanoids. He had used his first test injection on himself, and he would check the results later, but for now, he had to have his revenge. He decided to see what would happen if he let the computer do a little alteration on his project. Most of the lesser security programs allowed even a rank of 'Ensign' access to some of the less important systems. A little alteration, programming, and creativity should do the trick.
"Let's see," Wesley said. "Ah! Computer, we must have a talk."
End Part 2
CHAPTER: Part 3 - The Experiment
CORRECTED_TEXT:
"Two hot fudge sundaes. Extra hot fudge." The computer whirred, and 'magically' the sundaes appeared. Beverly thought it must be magic to make sundaes this good.
"Beverly! I'm shocked. Rough day?" The counselor gladly took the treat from the good doctor and curled up on her sofa. She hadn't thought this was going to be a professional visit, but any doubts she had were washed away. "Is it Wesley?" she asked with genuine sincerity.
"Yes. Not only has he been running himself ragged in the lab studying, but he snapped at me today."
"Well, he has been under a lot of stress at the Academy lately. Maybe it's good that he gets it out of his system now. Don't worry, he'll come out of it."
"But he has been working himself so hard. I only let him do it because he seems happy doing his little projects. Maybe we need the Borg to attack us, or a warp core breach or something to keep him busy," she quipped. "I would appreciate it if you would talk to him. Not in a forced environment, but if you could just stop in and talk."
"I don't know."
"Oh, please? I will make you the best banana split you ever had if you do this, OK?"
"Well, all right. But I expect a lot of whipped cream," she said as she dropped the spoon into the empty dish.
"Thanks, Deanna." She put down her also empty dish and gave the counselor a big hug. Deanna felt a little strange, but accepted the hug.
After that, Beverly picked up the two dishes, took them to the replicator, and left. She didn't know what came over her, but she shrugged it off for now.
The computer beeped. Wesley looked over at the terminal. "The counselor's quarters. Bonus."
He was examining the results from his extended scan. He hadn't found anything wrong yet. His first experiment was with the chemicals dealing with brain activity. He had created a virus that would help to increase his brain activity. It wasn't meant to be a permanent change; he had already worked out a 'cure' for the virus. Sure, the computers could run perfect simulations of what chemicals could do on the brain, but he needed to know exactly what the results would be. In hindsight, picking himself as the first subject wasn't all that bright, but he was tired, and there wasn't anything he could do now. However, there were no regrets in Wesley's mind. Ideas and thoughts were coming quickly and clearly to his mind. He hadn't felt this refreshed in a long time.He kept thinking back to how easy it was to enter the ship's computer and enact a little 'revenge' on his mother. He thought that he should start to expand his tests, but he needed to run a few tests first.
Just then, he heard the familiar hiss of the doors for the other room.
"Hello? Doctor?" Ensign Ro said as she walked to the doctor's office. She never really needed the services of the doctors on the Enterprise, and as such was very uncomfortable in this environment. Normally, she wouldn't even think of coming to the labs, but she wanted to have someone check on her arm. She was doing a particularly vigorous workout the other day, and her arm was still sore. She wouldn't think this was the sort of thing to annoy the Chief Medical Officer about, but since her cabin was just down the hall, she thought she would just stop in.
"Doctor? Doctor Crusher? Are you here?" she said, peering through the window into the main office.
"She's not here right now."
Ro spun quickly, too quickly. She bumped her arm on the door frame, and fire shot through her arm. She let out a little whimper and immediately grabbed her arm.
Wesley quickly came over and said, "Are you OK? I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Ro chuckled. "You just caught me off guard. You're Wesley, right? Is your mother around? As you can see, I need a little bit of help."
"Oh, I can have a medical team here in under a minute."
"No, no. It's not all that serious. I'll just come back later." Ro turned to leave.
"Wait. I feel bad. Here, come over to the other lab, let me take a look at it. You don't grow up as a doctor's child and not learn a little about the trade." Wesley led Ro into the lab, instructed her to get up on the bed, and let him take a look at the arm. Ro tried to roll up the sleeve on her tunic, but the pain flared up again.
"Oh, sorry again. I guess I should brush up on my bedside manner." He ran into the other room and grabbed a hypospray with a pain inhibitor. He placed it up to her arm and heard the familiar hiss. Once again, the ideas began to flood his mind.
"Your bedside needs work, but at least you work fast. How come no one is in here? I mean, this is a medical lab, isn't it?"
"Yes, but Mom, I mean Dr. Crusher, said that since it was so slow, she was going to give some of the medical staff some R&R. She has minimal staffing in all of the labs, and she thought since she was the Chief, she would take care of the lab herself. Besides, most of the staff has quarters near here and can be here..."
"...in under a minute. I got that. Well, I've got to get back to my quarters. I have a couple of days off myself, and plan to rest up." Ro began to get up.
"Hold on," Wesley said. "I wouldn't be much of a doctor if I didn't see that arm. Now roll up that sleeve."
Ro was about to protest, but decided to humor him. As she rolled up her sleeve, she found a rather large black and blue mark on her arm.
"Oh," remarked Wesley. "That doesn't look so good. Here, I have just the thing to take care of that."
Ro realized that this was a little worse than she thought. "Is this going to take long?"
"No, but swing your legs up on the bed. This next injection makes people a little dizzy." Wesley grabbed one of his hyposprays from next to the terminal. This one was actually designed to help regenerate damaged tissue on a large scale, but he figured that it couldn't do much harm. Besides, he had the 'cure' if it didn't work, and he could have one of the other doctors look at her if it didn't work. After all, he wasn't a doctor.
He pressed the hypospray against Ro's arm, and again, its contents were injected into her bloodstream. Almost immediately, the discoloration left her arm. Ro's eyes rolled upwards, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She had passed out. What would Wesley do? He quickly studied the readouts from the sensors in the bed. He discovered that her vital signs were strong, and she was safely asleep. He shrugged and figured that she had fainted.
End Part 3
Part 4 - Experimentation
Beverly was taking a walk, eventually, she planned to arrive at Ten Forward. Ever since her visit with Troi and her overwhelming need to hug her, she had felt strange. She wouldn't say that it excited her, but it was definitely having some kind of an effect. The more she walked, the hotter it got. 'Boy, I am out of shape,' she thought. It wasn't until she turned a corner and bumped into an unfamiliar lieutenant. She stepped back, and her usually impeccable red hair fell into her eyes. She looked upon the man in front of her not as a fellow officer, but as a pure instrument of her desire. She felt every inch of her skin, some inches felt a lot better than others.
"Excuse me, sir. Sorry," said the officer clad in a yellow uniform as he attempted to steady the higher-ranked officer in front of him.
Her mind and body betrayed her. Her nipples were actually visible through her uniform. Her breath was coming quicker. 'What's wrong with me?' She forced through the haze in her mind. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew what was going to happen. At this point, it was out of her hands, and in his.
"No, excuse me, I wasn't looking." She was letting him go, then, "You know, I have never really liked the term 'sir', why don't you call me Beverly?"
"Um, OK, Beverly. I have to be getting to... Are you feeling OK? You look a little, warm."
"Warm, no. Hot, yes. I want to throw you down right here and fuck your brains out," her voice was whispery.
"Well, I am due to go on duty in a few minutes, but thanks for the offer."
"I'll write you a note." Then she flung herself at him. Her lips were sealed to his, any resistance he had was quickly diminishing. Her body was on fire. She was kidding about fucking him in the corridor, but it was quickly becoming her only alternative.
He broke the kiss. "Jordan to Maintenance."
"Maintenance, go ahead Jordan."
"I'm going to be a little late for my shift," glancing at Beverly, "Medical reasons."
"Anything we should know about?"
"No, I'll contact you later. Jordan out."
'A janitor? I'm about to fuck a janitor? Who cares if I hump the doors of a turbo shaft?' She smiled and then took Janitor Jordan by the arm.
Wesley was going over the latest batch of test samples. Everything looked like it was going smoothly. He began to hear Ro moaning. He thought she might be waking up. He spun around only to see Ro with one hand on her crotch and one hand on her breast. The readouts on the wall said that she was asleep, and her eyes were closed, but her hands were in warp speed. It was then that he noticed that several of her hormones were almost off the scale. He stared back at Ro only to see something new and amazing. The front of her uniform began swelling. The more it swelled, the louder she moaned. Her other hand drifted up from between her legs to start caressing her other breast. They were beginning to stretch the already tight fabric of the front of her uniform. He saw that the zipper at the top of the jumpsuit began to separate in response to the growth.
Wesley's curiosity led his eyes down to the writhing woman's crotch. The front was completely soaked. Wesley had about all he could take. He couldn't decide whether to administer the cure or to screw the Bajoran silly. He reached over and picked up the hypospray with the cure. He looked at it and said, 'Oh well.' He placed the injector to her arm, and then the images came flooding in. His mind was filled with images of him and Ro in positions that would have shocked even the crewmen of a deep space exploration ship.
"No!" he cried, as he threw the hypospray back at the table.
He grabbed the front of Ro's uniform and peeled it away from her white flesh. It was then he had a flash of brilliance. "Computer. Reduce Gravity to 0.00 on the Med Bed." The bed had this setting so that more delicate operations could be performed without risk to the patient's health.
With the gravity off, he was able to lift Ro off of the table and strip off her uniform. Starfleet's dress code when it comes to undergarments is pretty liberal. Ro's policy was even more liberal. As Wesley pulled the last of her uniform over her tiny feet, he was able to gaze upon every bit of Ro's body. She wore no underwear. Her breasts had nearly tripled in size at this point, and it looked like they were continuing. Ro had orgasmized at least four times while Wesley was pulling her uniform off of her. Wesley now stripped off his own uniform and climbed into the Zero G with Ro.
The momentum of lifting and pulling her uniform off had Ro in an almost standing position. Wesley lifted Ro up so her cunt was in line with his face. He could see that her fluids had run down and coated the backs of her legs from when she was still lying down on the table. Wesley dove in. The first touch sent waves of pleasure through the helpless alien in front of him. The wave continued and didn't seem to ebb at all.
'Hmm...' Wesley thought. 'Sweet, not like what I would expect. Good thing she is already out. I don't think she would be conscious for much longer.'
He looked up, and Ro's breasts had stopped growing. However, from his current position, he could see anything past the peaks of her breasts.
'Boy, I could use something like this when I'm walking across the campus when it's raining.' He slowly pulled her down, and himself up. Luckily, the beds were equipped with low-level restraining fields to keep bodies from floating off.
Once he was equal to her now gigantic breasts, he began to suck and bite at her nipples. Even though her breasts were now huge, her nipples were still what he would classify as normal. They seemed to still be fairly small compared to the melons on her chest. Once again, the analytical side took over. He noticed that her muscles were much smaller. That must account for the increase in the upper regions.He grabbed her ass, it felt rounded, and he couldn't really tell but he thought her hips had also filled out. He wasn't completely familiar with Bajoran anatomy, but that was why the Academy required advanced biology. Suddenly, "...uuugh, Fuck me. Please, I want..." Ro was back to rubbing herself furiously on the crotch. This time both hands were buried and pumping away.
Wesley couldn't take it anymore. He spun her around and spread her ass. It wasn't a gentle entry, but it did the job. He had never taken this particular 'course' before, but since the other entry was otherwise occupied.
Just as Wesley had pressed into her, she froze. Wesley was afraid that she had woken up, then it happened. She let out a yell and her whole body shook. Wesley began pumping furiously. He could feel her contract as she was wracked with a constant orgasm, she pressed back harder and harder, pounding as hard as they both could. Wesley reached around and was massaging her breasts. She still had both hands going at it.
Then he felt it. Her breasts began to shrink a little. She was now panting and back to a low moan. Wesley knew something was going on, so he had to hurry. It didn't take much to push him over the edge. He came for what seemed like hours, but in this case it wasn't quite that long. Once he opened his eyes, he found that they had fucked so hard they were upside down and floating against the ceiling. He pushed off, pushed out of the field, and got off the bed. While he got his uniform back on, he set the computer to bring his specimen slowly back to the table.
He was in a hurry to get her uniform back on before she woke up when he heard "Mmmf, Wesley? What happened? My clothes? My Breasts! Oh no, what have you done?" Indeed, both breasts had stopped shrinking, but now she had almost no chest at all, only two little nubs for nipples. Then Wesley noticed that her figure had lost some of its curviness as well. In fact, her shape wasn't very different from his own.
She started to get off the bed. "Computer, restraining field full strength," Wesley barked. The computer complied, a little rougher than he had intended. She was thrown back into a lying position, unable to move. "Don't worry Ro, I can fix this," and Wesley started up his computer."You may be able to get a doctor here in under a minute, but I can do the same with security! Now let me go!" Ro was really getting upset.
"Go ahead and try." Wesley had no reaction.
"OK, cadet. Ro to Security." Nothing. "Ro to Worf!" Still nothing. "Computer, recognize Ro, access code Delta Omega Beta Four." There was not the familiar chirp from the computer. "What is going on? There is no way you have that kind of security clearance."
"I don't, but the Chief Medical Officer does. You see, Mom got upset with people always being bugged while in examinations, so once someone is on the beds, your communicator is 'off'. Also, thanks to security for turning off the computer access. They figured it was better not to let people who are probably under duress access to the computer. So that was disabled as well. The only thing left on is a subroutine to notify the medical officer on duty. And at this moment, I am the Med on duty."
Suddenly, the terminal on the wall beeped. Wesley went over and punched some keys. He began chuckling to himself. "Lieutenant Stewart Jordan. Only two months on ship. Assigned to..." He blurted out a loud laugh. "Engineering, Maintenance Engineering! She got nailed by a janitor! Well, that's not it. Computer, randomize virus to next configuration and continue."
He turned to Ro. "I think she should be busy for a while. Now, as for you. I hadn't accounted for my virus causing such a radically different effect on your 'species'." He inspected her completely naked, although extremely underdeveloped body. "My original plan had been to make a virus that would slow down the aging process. It did it by stimulating different organs and glands to release the body's own chemicals that assist in the body's own regeneration. As I experimented through last night, I found that I could isolate certain chemicals and cause a response in the body. From there, it was simple to generate a virus that, once released, would help to set off slight imbalances that the body would automatically correct. The body itself caused the changes to take place. I gave you an injection to simply help the body to repair itself faster. Of course, that was a projection on 'human' systems. I didn't think the change would be so radically different on another species. But it did, neat huh?"
Ro was barely listening to the Cadet spout his 'technobabble'. She was more interested in trying to get out. By the time he had finished, she had given up for now and waited for an opportunity. "Yeah, virus, chemicals, interesting. But what happened to me? Can't you figure out a 'cure' for this virus?"
Wesley didn't know if Ro had any idea what Wesley had done to her. | 6 |
1,861 | Eyeliner | 'What kind of pencil is this?' I asked her when she came back and plopped down next to me on her bed.
'It's an eyeliner,' she answered.
'What's an eyeliner?'
'Just what the word says. It's for making lines around the eyes, dummy,' Annie giggled.
'Like a makeup thing?'
'Any girl over 10 would know that. It's a pencil for drawing on skin, if that makes it easier to understand. Look here.'
Annie pointed to her eyes. She had really pretty emerald-green eyes, which sat in a round, freckled face, framed by long, slightly curly, red hair.
'See the black line? That's made with the eyeliner.'
'I'm a boy, and even though I'm 15, I have never felt like wearing makeup. Do you think I should?' I asked her, blinking my eyes at her.
'Nooo,' Annie giggled.
'Can I try it on you?' I asked.
'Not my eyes, thank you. You can try on my arm.'
She was wearing a short, sleeveless shirt and a short skirt. The two didn't quite meet, leaving a bit of her tummy bare. All the girls were dressed like that, and it looked so cute.
'I'll try on your tummy,' I said and pushed up her shirt a little.
We had only been going steady for about a week. All this stuff with girlfriends, dating and so on, was something new. If somebody told me I was in love with a girl, it would have been meant as an insult, only a few months ago. A lot had changed since then. Suddenly, one of the boys in my class was openly dating one of the girls. Within no time at all, all of us were dating; well, almost all of us.
We were just holding hands and kissing and stuff like that, nothing more.
Annie's tummy was smooth as silk. I had touched it before, but only her tummy. I hadn't dared to go beyond that. Annie was only my second girlfriend, and I wanted it to last a little more than the two weeks the first one had lasted. Still, I badly wanted to get a little further than kissing and holding hands.
I drew a flower with her navel as the center, drawing the petals around it. Then I began to draw a stem with leaves, pushing up her shirt a little more. Annie had raised her head and was looking down on my masterpiece. I pushed her shirt up a little more, expecting her to protest any minute.
Annie's breathing had become a little faster. The stem of the flower had reached her ribcage. I drew leaves on the stem, trying to drag it out for as long as possible. I could feel the tension growing fast. Inch by inch, the stem grew longer, and the shirt was pushed up higher until it was just under her breasts.
'Stop,' Annie hissed, short of breath.
I did, but I continued to draw leaves on the stem. My hands were brushing lightly against the underside of her breasts. I was all out of stem to put leaves on, and once more, I tried to push up the shirt, just a fraction of an inch.
'No, don't, David,' Annie said.
'Please. I just want to look,' I said, pleading.
'No.'
'All the other girls do.'
'No, not all of them,' Annie replied, sounding a little angry.
'Sandra and Lisa do,' I replied.
I knew almost for sure that they had let their boyfriends look and even feel.
'Well, they have something to show, don't they?' Annie replied, sounding frustrated.
OK, Annie didn't have much in that department, not compared to Sandra and Lisa. But right now, I didn't care. Breasts were breasts, even if they had been only the size of golf balls, and Annie still had something that looked like half lemons. I'll admit that the girls in my dreams had bigger breasts, but that was dreams. This was reality.
'I think small is better. Small breasts look so proud, and they don't grow to look like empty bags,' I said, trying to sound convincing.
Annie thought about it for a moment. OK, I admit I didn't invent that line myself. I had overheard my older sister complaining to mom about her small breasts, and mom had said something like that.
'Come on. I can almost see them through your shirt anyway, and I think they look very pretty,' I said.
'Promise you won't laugh?' Annie asked, anxiously.
'Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.'
I held my breath while I waited for Annie to make up her mind.
'OK,' she said.
I was so excited I could hardly get hold of her shirt again. I'd temporarily forgotten all about my beautiful flower. Very cautiously, I lifted the tight shirt up over her tiny breasts; the first breasts I had ever seen up close. I'd seen topless women on the beach, but only stolen glimpses; this was for real.
She didn't wear a bra. She didn't need one, and I guess they didn't come in her size either. Her breasts were small. Two cones at the top of her ribcage, standing up very proud. On top of each cone was another tiny cone, topped with a very small nipple. I noticed that the freckles from her face spread down over the top of her chest, and there were even a few on her breasts too.
I was thrilled beyond my wildest fantasies.
We were both breathing heavily, looking at Annie's breasts. Annie stared as much as I did. I barely dared to move at all, fearing that Annie would back out and pull down her shirt again. But she didn't. She didn't do anything else either, and I was suddenly paralyzed. I mean, I wanted to touch her, badly, but I didn't dare.
'I want to draw on you too,' Annie suddenly said and sat up.
'Huh?' I replied, surprised.
'I want to draw a picture on you,' she repeated.
'Eh, OK.'
I pulled my shirt off and lay down flat on my back. Annie didn't pull her shirt back down over her breasts. That was a good sign. She was usually very forthright and certainly not very shy.
She leaned over me and began to draw something on my chest. I didn't see what it was. I was focused on her breasts. She only drew a few lines. Then she stopped because her rolled-up shirt irritated her. To my great disappointment, she pulled it down again, covering her breasts. Then, after a second, she changed her mind and pulled it off completely. Great!
She leaned over me again and began to draw. She took her own sweet time, drawing something very elaborate. Her warm hands felt so good she could have continued for hours, I wouldn't have minded. Her touches were heavenly.
'Isn't it beautiful?' Annie giggled and straightened her back.
Her breasts stood out from her chest, and I could only agree; they certainly were beautiful. But that wasn't what she was talking about. I had to tear my eyes from her chest and look at mine for a moment. She had drawn a fine pattern.
'Very pretty.'
'It's a maze,' she said and began to follow the lines with her finger.
She followed the lines all over my chest and down over my stomach to the rim of my jeans, leaving no doubt as to where it was pointing. She looked excitedly at me and wriggled her finger under the rim. Just an inch or so, but it made the tension between us grow.
'My turn again,' I said with a hoarse voice that surprised even myself.
Annie lay down again, her green eyes glowing with anticipation and excitement. The maze seemed to be a good idea. I began to transform my primitive flower into a pattern similar to the one Annie had drawn on my chest and stomach.
I began on her tummy, moving up to her chest. I had become bolder now, and my hands brushed over her breasts. Annie jerked, but she didn't say anything. I let my hand brush over her left breast again, this time a little harder. It felt fantastic - soft and spongy, and... it just felt incredibly exciting to actually touch her breasts.
I didn't dare to draw on her breasts. Instead, I let the maze end there. When I was finished, I followed the lines of the maze, just as Annie had done. I ended up at her right breast and paused there for a second, not taking my finger away from her smooth skin.
Annie stayed still, holding her breath. I began to circle my finger around her breast, slowly narrowing the circles until I ended up at the center. Annie hissed, and the tiny nipple seemed to grow under the tip of my finger. When I looked down on Annie's face, she had closed her eyes.
Slowly, I descended from her right breast and moved uphill on her left breast, reaching the summit a bit faster than before. Annie let out a gasp and squirmed a little, moving her thighs against each other.
Feeling very bold, almost triumphant, I put a finger on her right breast too, touching both her nipples at the same time. I brushed my fingertips over the tiny, hard peas. Annie squirmed and took my hands away.
'Please, it tickles,' she gasped.
'Doesn't it feel good?' I asked, a little surprised.
I hadn't practiced much at these things, but I knew some of the theory, and it was supposed to feel good for a girl when you touched her nipples.
'Yes, but... it tickles,' she replied and sat up.
'Lie down,' she added.
Annie picked up the eyeliner and began drawing on my stomach.The lines moved very close to the rim of my jeans, and she tugged it a couple of times, pushing it down a little each time. At first, I didn't really notice, still staring at her breasts. It wasn't until I felt her fingers just above my newly formed pubic hair that I became very aware. I might even have jerked a little.
Annie stopped drawing and looked at her masterpiece. She followed the maze with her finger, again ending up at the rim of my jeans and again wriggling her finger under it. She looked at me as she did so. Her eyes were shining so brightly, and her freckled face was warm and blushing; all the way down to her breasts, actually.
I was very aroused, too, and I could hardly wait for her to lie down and let me have my turn with the eyeliner.
I had covered most of her stomach and chest. Instead of continuing on her stomach, I began to draw on her thigh, just under the hem of her short skirt. Annie giggled excitedly and nervously. Slowly, I moved up, pushing her skirt up as I went. She had her legs tight together, so I couldn't see her panties until I pushed the skirt the last bit of the way up over them. They were pink.
I leaned over her to get closer to her crotch, trying to make out what the panties were hiding. I couldn't see much, but a new and exciting scent hit my nostrils. It was the scent of her, but not like when we were kissing on the bed. It was different, but wonderful in a strange new way.
I drew a line very close to the hem of her panties. It made her press her legs tighter together, but she didn't stop me, as I had feared. I really wanted to draw a line over her panties, but I didn't dare. Instead, I stopped drawing and began to trace the maze with the tip of my finger, all the way up to her panties.
I hesitated for a moment. I didn't want this to end now. Would she get angry if I tried to touch her? Would she allow me to get my finger under the hem of her panties? I didn't dare to take the risk. I let my finger trail down along the rim of her panties, down between her thighs. She was so hot down there. I could feel it, even through the panties. On the way up, I brushed lightly over her panties. And I suddenly became aware of how hard my penis was.
Before I could get my hand away, Annie sat up again. My hand brushed harder against her panties. I didn't feel much, but just the thought of it...
Annie was blushing more than before. The freckles on her chest had multiplied while I was drawing on her.
'Take off your jeans,' she said with a husky voice.
'My jeans?'
'Yes,' she cleared her throat; 'there is no more room on your tummy and chest.'
I was suddenly struck with embarrassment. As soon as I took my jeans off, it would be very obvious that I had an erection. On the other hand, I sure as hell didn't want to stop here, so there was no other option than taking them off.
I got off the bed and took them off with my back to Annie. I could feel the heat in my cheeks when I turned around to face her. And I could feel her eyes, staring at my crotch and the very prominent bulge in my underwear. She didn't laugh. She didn't run away screaming. She didn't point to it and ask what it was. She just stared as I had stared at her breasts.
I stood beside the bed for a moment. I don't know what I had expected her to do, but the excitement of it all took over and my embarrassment disappeared. I lay down on the bed and waited for her to start drawing.
Annie stared, and it was as if she almost had forgotten what she was supposed to do. Then she leaned over me and began to draw lines on my thigh. This time I was very aware of her hands and the eyeliner all the time. She started halfway up on my thigh and rapidly moved upward.
When she got close to my crotch, she began to draw slower, more elaborately. Her touches felt so... indescribable. Without intending to, I spread my legs a little. She immediately drew a line further down, very close to my crotch. Her hand touched my penis, and involuntarily, I jerked a little.
Annie couldn't suppress an excited giggle. A second later, her hand touched my penis again; casually, but at the same time very deliberately. This time, only my penis jerked. Annie giggled again, but it didn't really embarrass me. She stopped drawing and followed the maze, quickly reaching my crotch.
She was braver than me, brushing her hand against my penis several times. To me, that meant that I could go further with her too. But it also felt so good that I was torn between wanting to take my turn and wanting to enjoy her touch.
The part of me that wanted her to touch me won. Patiently, but very tensely, I felt her fingers caress the skin on my inner thigh close to my underwear. Just as I thought she was going to stop, I felt the tip of her finger slip underneath the hem of my underwear. Only for a second or two, but it felt like an electric shock.
Annie stared excitedly at me.
I sat up, and we looked each other in the eyes. I don't know how I looked, but Annie had a very special glow in her eyes, and her face and chest were blushing. The smell I had noticed before was stronger now. Our breathing was heavy. Without taking her eyes off mine, Annie lay down on her back again.
I almost forgot the eyeliner. Annie handed it to me when I pushed her skirt up over her panties. I began drawing on her other thigh. She had her legs tight together, but when I pulled her leg a little, she spread them. Only a couple of inches, but enough for me to see the crotch of her panties. There was a damp spot, where the thin fabric was pressed in between the lips.
I remembered a very embarrassing sex education lesson. We, the pupils, were embarrassed, and the teacher probably was too, mechanically reciting the text from his notes. It had been a disappointing experience, but suddenly I remembered a few things about the female anatomy and how the vagina secreted a lubricant to make the penis able to slide.
The skin on her inner thigh was so incredibly smooth. I didn't think skin could be that smooth at all. I didn't draw very much on her inner thighs, but I made sure my hands were touching them all the time. They were just so smooth and wonderful to touch.
'Stop,' Annie suddenly said, and my heart skipped a beat. 'The eyeliner will rub off on my skirt. I'd better take it off.'
I relaxed again. Her skirt was white with a pale pattern. She sat up and pulled the skirt off. Considering how she had touched me, I decided to have a go at it.
'It might rub off on your panties too,' I said, fighting to control the excitement in my voice.
Annie hesitated, and I held my breath. It felt as if it was now or never, and she took ages, thinking about what I had said. Finally, she looked up at me, all blushing and tense.
'I'll take them off, if you take off yours,' she said.
I had already had my moment of embarrassment when I took off my jeans, and she could see my hard penis bulging.
'OK,' I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as I possibly could.
She hesitated again.
'You go first,' she said, shyly.
That made me a little timid too.
'We'll do it at the same time,' I suggested.
'No, you go first,' Annie insisted.
There was no other way. I didn't want to stop... no way.
'OK,' I said and began to fumble to get my underwear off.
Annie stared at my penis as it jumped out. It only made me clumsier, but I finally managed to get them off.
'Your turn,' I said, my eyes fixed on Annie's panties.
She lay back on the bed and pulled her panties off, pulling her legs up and blocking my view. When they were off, she lowered her legs again, and I could see her, completely naked. She had her legs tightly together again, but I could see a small patch of red hairs at the top of her crotch.
Again, I forgot what it was I was going to do, but all the black lines on her body reminded me. I leaned over her and began to draw on her thigh. It was difficult because my eyes kept drifting to her crotch all the time. The small patch of fine hairs made a triangle above her lips, ending just where the lips began; as an arrow, pointing to the slit between the lips.
I was almost afraid to get close to her crotch, and I drew a big, elaborate pattern. At one point, my hand moved down between her tightly closed thighs. It made her spread her legs a few inches. Finally, I finished my maze at the edge of the fine, red hairs. My hand touched the hairs. They were so soft and fine, like fine threads of silk.
As I leaned over her and began to trace the lines I had drawn, I could smell that special scent again, only stronger. It was intoxicating. My fingertip moved fast, skipping a few lines to get to the end fast. Once there, I moved my finger into the hairs and looked up at her to see if it was OK.
Her eyes were closed, and her face looked very tense and concentrated. Seeing no signs of disapproval, I threw my last precautions overboard and began to move my finger down to her lips. I noticed that the room was very quiet except for her heavy, noisy breathing through her nose.
I moved my face closer as my finger touched the spongy lips. Being so close, I could see and feel the downy fuzz that covered them. I looked up at her face again to make sure it was OK to proceed. Her eyes were still closed, her face concentrated.
My finger caressed her lips very lightly. Annie took a couple of deep, noisy breaths through her nose, making me look up at her again, fearing that something was wrong. I couldn't see any change.
The little slit between the lips attracted my attention. It was there, between the lips... it was in there that her clitoris and vagina were hiding. Very cautiously, I tried to slide my finger in between the lips. My fingers sank in, into the hot, slippery crevice between them.
Annie gasped and jerked. I pulled my finger back.
'Did I hurt you?' I asked, frightened.
'No... it felt...'"It's... my turn... now," she gasped after a short while.
We changed places and I lay down. The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Annie forgot all about the eyeliner and drawing and everything. She leaned over me and brushed her hands up along my penis. Her hands brushed over it as if they were the wings of a butterfly.
My penis jerked between her hands, making it press hard against one hand. This time, Annie didn't giggle. She continued to touch and feel the skin on my penis and testicles, very lightly. Every touch made lightning flashes on my inner eyes.
The foreskin was pulled halfway back, exposing the tip of the head. Tentatively, she put her finger on the tip. It was almost too much and I jerked involuntarily. Annie let go.
"Did it hurt?" she asked anxiously.
"No, it was just... too direct."
"Can I... hold it... like...?" she asked, not finishing the sentence.
"Yes," I gasped in reply, continuing inside my head: 'Please... please do.'
She put her hand around the shaft and held my penis. It jerked in her hand, out of my control. Slowly, she moved her hand just a little, pulling down the foreskin a fraction of an inch.
"Does this hurt?"
"No..." I gasped. "It feels good."
She kept pulling painfully slowly, until the rim of the head appeared. It felt so good, much better than I had ever imagined. I was extremely excited.
Suddenly, without any warning, my penis jerked and began to ejaculate. I didn't feel it coming, it just happened.
My semen shot out over my stomach and her hand. She got a few drops in her hair as well. It felt so good, but it almost happened too quickly, too sudden for me to really enjoy it fully. And it had only just ended, before I suddenly felt terribly embarrassed about it.
Annie stared with her eyes and mouth wide open. Then she giggled.
"Cool," she said, "way cool."
I couldn't help laughing. It helped and the embarrassment disappeared. Annie reached over to her bedside table and got some tissues. She wiped my semen off her hand and my stomach.
Time had been flying much faster than we had realised and I had to get home. We dressed quickly and I kissed her goodbye. Just as I was leaving, Annie hugged me again.
"It was fun," she whispered in my ear.
"It was wonderful," I answered and kissed her. | 4 |
3,625 | Demoted Into Depravity | 'Bondage is a strange and thrilling experience, Angela! That girl in the photo was once just like you...shy...modest...sweetly polite. She was born to serve! It gives her pleasure...profoundly deep satisfaction. She denied this for a long time, but in the end, she had to let the truth come out. It was just a matter of finding the right person to trust with her secret. You can trust me, Angela...I know what you're thinking. I know everything about how you think...I've seen it hundreds of times in girls just like you...'
Angela was mesmerized by Shane's perverse lecture. She'd heard parts of it before from the time she began working for him, but now it all seemed to make some kind of surreal sense. There was no denying that she did have unusual dreams and fantasies, but she was confused by them. For the first time in her young life, Angela felt she was listening to somebody who could see right through the sweetly innocent facade she wore, and this alarmed her, though it also aroused her in the strangest possible way.
'Have a look at her, Angela. It's like a snapshot of your thoughts. I know it is...don't deny it. Right now, you're wishing that was you in the photograph...stripped naked and vulnerable, shackled and spread helpless at the mercy of a strong, powerful master...'
Angela felt her stomach twist into a guilty knot. She shivered with a rash of goosebumps, blushing as her mind reeled with confusion. It was as if her boss was brainwashing her, but she couldn't do or say anything to stop him. She wanted to make some kind of feeble joke like she usually did to change the subject, but the words just wouldn't form in her mouth. Shane was moving close to her, talking calmly in a soothing, hypnotic tone which started to alarm Angela. Her hands trembled as she gawked at the image of the woman in the photo, her own clitoris throbbing in sympathy with the sensations she imagined the anonymous woman to be having. Never before would she have allowed somebody like Shane to touch her, especially in somewhere as public as his office, but it was as if he'd somehow invaded her conscience, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't evict him or prevent him from trapping her emotions.
'We've talked about this for long enough, Angela...it's time you faced the truth and followed your feelings. You don't have to do anything special...I'll teach you all you need to know, and you do need to be taught. You're never going to be completely happy unless you give in to me...it's what you need to do...admit it...'
Angela just stood there facing Shane's desk. His hot breath on the back of her neck warmed her and almost relaxed her enough to feel comfortable with his hands roaming over her hips. It was a weird seduction. He'd done it without even touching her, and now it seemed like no ceremony was necessary to get her undressed. She felt a perverse urgency, secretly wanting him to simply tear the clothes from her body. Not to sensuously disrobe her, but to quickly and roughly strip her naked while she was feeling most vulnerable and powerless.
It was like a hazy, erotic dream to the timid young blonde. Her modest dress-style had always been like a false shield which nobody had ever challenged, hiding the real Angela from the world. She knew that now as Shane's fingers grappled with the zipper of her skirt. He peeled it open with the ease of a sword slicing butter, Angela demurely accepting the defeat of her sensibilities and doing nothing to resist his conquering of her. Her skirt dropping to the floor around her ankles made her think of a flag falling for some reason, and it signaled the charge of Shane's mental army.
Angela became completely oblivious to the sound of the world going about its business outside of Shane's office. She was unsure of whether he'd locked the door, but it no longer mattered when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy elastic of her undies and tugged them firmly to her ankles. Her eyes became unfocused on the photo in her hand, her soft blue eyes lolling deliriously as Shane started wrestling her blouse up over her head. A moment later, it was trapped over her head, and she felt him grappling with her bra, unhitching it and pulling at it until she almost lost her balance.
The blouse needed to be unbuttoned before Angela could remove it, and she stumbled blindly for a minute, tripping out of her undies and sitting her bare buttocks against Shane's desk as she wriggled and squirmed in her tangled blouse. Angela hadn't wanted to help him strip her, but it had become necessary, and she dropped the photo while she fought the blouse and slackened bra off her arms.
Shane was standing in front of her smirking and grinning wildly when she finally shed her blouse. His expression confused her, and he was holding out his hand to accept her discarded clothes. Angela meekly handed them to him and then blushed, realizing she was completely naked except for her shoes and that Shane was ogling her, gawking at her pert breasts and bushy pubic mound which were completely exposed.
'Yes,' said Shane, his dark eyes flashing deviously. 'I think you're ready to start learning a few lessons.'
Angela felt alarmed by the sudden menacing tone of his voice and immediately covered her nude body defensively. 'What lessons?' she mumbled, feeling acutely aware of her nakedness when she asked.
'You'll see...get dressed!'
Angela felt confused and stunned. She caught her clothes, which he'd thrown back at her, but saw that he intended keeping her underwear. She felt crushed with foolishness, as if she'd just been tricked into doing something totally embarrassing, and the hasty attempts to get back into her skirt and blouse only served to accentuate her humiliation.
'From now on...no underwear!' Shane said, picking up a large pair of scissors to slice her lacy underwear to shreds.
'Um...what are you doing?' Angela gasped, her eyes nearly popping out as she watched the expensive lace being quickly reduced to ribbons. She continued straightening her clothes, anxiously pressing the creases back into her pleated skirt when the room filled with the sound of knocking at the door.
'Come in...' Shane called, not waiting to check whether his blushing, dazed secretary was ready or not. 'That'll be all, Angela...go back to your desk...'
The red-faced young blonde's face was frozen in an expression of dumbstruck confusion, and she avoided the puzzled stare of Shane's partner Karl as she walked briskly from the office. She was desperate to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall and take a few moments to regain her composure, but Karl's voice stopped her in her tracks.
'Angela...I want you to come back to the warehouse with me in a minute...' Karl said in his usual, gruff Teutonic tone. 'Wait there...I won't be a minute.'
The timid blonde felt her world collapsing around her as she stood impatiently just outside the office door. None of the other girls in the outer office seemed aware of what had just happened, and nor did Karl. But there was something suspicious about the way he'd asked her to accompany him.The warehouse for Shane and Karl's shipping business was in the outer suburbs, and none of the city office girls ever went there. It was sort of like a Coventry place where the city secretaries were sent when their work performance was in question, and none ever returned. Nobody ever spoke about the place, but Angela sensed something foreboding.
"Are you ready?" Karl said, startling Angela when he unexpectedly appeared behind her.
"Um...yes..." she stuttered. "I'll just get my handbag..."
The draft of the noisy ventilation system in the underground carpark seemed to blow straight up under Angela's clothes, reminding her that she was without her underwear. Even though her blouse was modest, her bare breasts jiggled provocatively as she walked beside Karl. His sideways glances at her, which she pretended not to notice, surely noticed the embarrassing bounce of her unrestrained breasts, and this made the young blonde feel like dying with shame. She knew what men thought of girls who went braless, and she wanted to explain that she wasn't the kind of girl he probably thought because of it. But obviously this was not an option.
Karl was the senior partner in the firm, and his brand new Mercedes richly displayed this. Angela smiled faintly and thanked Karl when he held open the passenger's door for her, but she felt her skin crawl a bit when he seemed to pay her breasts more than gentlemanly interest as she sat. The seatbelt strapped tightly over her chest accentuated the smooth, unholstered shape of her breasts, and, to Angela's increasing unease, Karl clearly noticed this.
Nothing was said as he drove up and around the ramps leading to the exit. It wasn't until he finally navigated his way back out into the throng of busy, mid-afternoon traffic that Karl spoke.
"Do you like working for PDL Transport?" he asked.
"Yes..." Angela replied, trying to ignore the feelings of nakedness she felt under her clothes.
"How long have you been with us now?"
"It will be two years November...I joined straight after university," Angela said, relaxing slightly at the informality.
"University!" Karl said, sounding surprised. "Do you have to go to university these days to be a secretary, eh?"
Angela felt a little insulted by the remark but didn't show it. "I studied for an Arts Degree...languages actually...but I didn't know what to do when I finished..."
"What...so you thought you'd be a secretary until you made up your mind?"
"I didn't mean it like that!" Angela quickly apologized, realizing she sounded like she was complaining about her job. "No...I love working as a secretary..."
"Shane says you're a very competent one...he told me so!" Karl had a moment to stare and smile at her as he waited for the traffic lights to change color from red to green.
"That's nice of him..." Angela blushed, not knowing how to receive the compliment properly in light of what Shane had just done to her.
"Yes...he says you're a very clever young lady...that you'll go places in this firm..."
"He does?" Angela contained her surprise enough not to sound totally incredulous. "Well...yes...I really enjoy working for him...he's a good boss."
The lights changed, and Karl moved with the flow of traffic, not speaking again until he turned onto the freeway. "Enjoy working for him...that's good..." Karl chuckled softly. "Yes...he told me you're a good worker. Very co-operative. I like having an obedient staff."
Angela felt a sudden rush of guilty panic at the way he said it. She knew he was hinting at something, and it filled her with dread. The car sped along the freeway, Angela staring out through the tinted glass at the quickly passing urban scenery. Again, there was a long silence.
"Shane can be a bit strange at times, though," Karl said flatly.
Angela's attention was immediately caught. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously.
"You know!" Karl laughed heartily, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You know...strange...unusual..."
"I'm sorry Mr. van Hauer...I'm not sure I know what you mean..." the timid blonde tried to keep her nervous voice settled as she spoke.
"That's good..." Karl said, sounding pleased with her response.
"I beg your pardon?" Angela relaxed slightly.
"You're discreet...I like that!"
Angela felt her heart jump to her mouth when he winked and grinned at her. She was immediately convinced he knew what had just happened, but still there was no way of knowing for certain without running the risk of making a complete fool of herself.
"If you mean..."
"I mean you value privacy...and honesty..." Karl was still avoiding the point.
"Yes...honesty is a virtue!" Angela kicked herself for rattling off the cliche.
"A virtue..." Karl laughed a little. "That's a charming way of putting it, Angela." Angela sheepishly returned his smile. "But it's not strictly a virtue, you know?"
The smile on Angela's innocent face quickly changed to a frown, and she squirmed discreetly in her seat.
"No...there are seven virtues, and honesty is not one of them..." Karl sounded an authority on the matter. "Faith is a virtue...having faith that honesty will be rewarded...you could say it's related that way..."
Angela felt uncomfortable with the discussion. She tried to look attentively at him but was afraid to make eye contact.
"So when I said you valued discretion, I meant it's a two-way street. If you can be discreet...I can be discreet..."
Angela couldn't bring herself to ask him what he meant, but she was forced to.
"Put your hand in my pocket..." Karl winked at her, nodding to the hip pocket of his jacket. "Go on...it won't bite!"
The young blonde felt extremely reluctant to comply, instinctively knowing there would be some kind of unpleasant surprise in store for her. But she cautiously reached over and slipped her hand into his pocket, feeling around inside it and pulling out a handful of cloth strips that made her gasp with fright. He had the remains of her underwear in his pocket, and her reaction of dread made the wicked old man laugh out loud.
"What's the matter, Angela? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he teased. "I didn't believe it...Shane said it was yours!"
Angela dropped the handful of shredded lace and rushed to put her hand over her shocked mouth. He'd tricked her, and she'd fallen into his trap. There'd be no way of denying that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. He'd already noticed the absence of her bra, and it would be impossible now to convince him she had anything on under her skirt. For the second time in one day, Angela felt the burning rash of deep humiliation.
"Relax Angela! You can trust me..." Karl said as he headed off the freeway and turned into the driveway of his warehouse.
Angela knew his words were hollow. Seeing the dark-haired woman from the photo sitting behind the reception desk of his warehouse office had a more unsettling effect on her.
The image of the woman, completely naked on the wire bed, arms and legs outstretched and shackled, came flooding back to the frightened young secretary's mind. She remembered the leather-jacketed man's arm holding some kind of brown stick and probing her defenselessly exposed slit. It was as if the image had been branded on Angela's memory.
"Virginia...this is Angela," Karl said, smirking at the trembling young girl he'd brought to the office.
"She's a pretty one...is this her first time?" the dark-haired woman's husky voice made her sound thoroughly evil to Angela. "I'm going to enjoy having her around..."
"Virginia likes to welcome all the new girls...she's very special to this firm!" Karl suddenly lifted the front of Angela's modest skirt.
Angela buckled over, shrieking loudly and frantically trying to push the old man's hands away. But it was too late. He'd already exposed the embarrassing truth of her missing underwear, and, after a short struggle with both Karl and Virginia, the timid blonde found herself completely naked.
"Please..." Angela whimpered, trying to hide herself with her small hands as Virginia wrestled the shoes from her feet. "I don't understand what's going on..."
"What's there to understand? You've been promoted out of the secretary pool to something much more highly regarded in this company!" Karl grumbled as he fought to pull the frantically struggling blonde's arms behind her back.
Angela couldn't see how he could call it a promotion. She'd just been completely humiliated by both of them, and, from what she could tell, it was just the beginning. "What do you mean...highly regarded?"
"You ask too many questions, Angela!" Virginia said, roughly pressing a red rubber ball into her open mouth and strapping it tightly in place to gag her.
Angela's mouth filled with saliva, and she clamped her jaws on the rubber ball, desperately trying to scream but not being able to raise the necessary noise she was after. The gag was terrifyingly effective, preventing any of the hysterical protests she attempted. A moment later, and she felt her wrists being cuffed with thick, black leather straps which were shackled together behind her back. In less than a minute, Angela found herself standing totally nude, hands unable to hide her lewdly exposed nakedness, and her ankles manacled with leather bracelets that were surely intended for some bizarre imprisonment.
"Feels good, doesn't it Angela?" Virginia smirked deviously as she cupped her warm hands around the naked blonde's unprotected breasts and began pinching at her swelling nipples. Angela shook her head vigorously in denial. "Yes it does...you can't lie to me!"
Angela gasped, biting down hard on the rubber gag as the middle-aged woman painfully twisted her tender nipples. She tripped and stumbled as the woman unexpectedly began dragging her by the nipples from the office into the cavernous interior of the warehouse. "I'll take over from here, Karl," Virginia laughed, dragging the horrified young blonde away from him. "We'll see you in a minute inside..."The sight of a group of workmen gawking excitedly at her almost made Angela faint. It was only Virginia's painful grip on her stretched, tortured nipples that kept her on her feet, though the men quickly gathered around and grabbed hold of her to carry her to the far end of the warehouse floor.
The terrified young secretary was practically in tears, twisting and struggling helplessly as the leather cuffs around her ankles were hitched to chains hanging from a winch above. The blood rushed to her head as the electric motor powering it whirred into life, dragging her widely spread feet towards the ceiling until her head was able to be lowered without touching the concrete floor. When the men finally released her, Angela struggled violently, but this merely made her swing around on the end of the chains, making her more dizzy. A minute or so later, she gave up, trying to focus her tear-filled eyes on the upside-down view of the group of wild-eyed onlookers. It was the most degrading, humiliating moment of her entire life, and, judging by the sinister-looking riding crop in Virginia's hand, it looked set to get even worse.
'Hurry up, Karl!' Virginia called loudly, her angry-sounding voice resounding in the warehouse. 'Tell him to hurry up, Angela!'
The terrified blonde screamed silently through the gag as her bare, defenseless fleshy buttocks was suddenly stung sharply with the crop. She arched her back, struggling frantically to avoid the shower of painful lashes which began raining on her backside. The sadistic woman's taunts for her to call Karl had her sobbing dry tears of helplessness, unable to call for the perverted old man or stop the agonizing lashes to her bottom.
The men standing around watching were goggle-eyed with perverse excitement as they watched the defenseless, naked blonde being thrashed mercilessly by Virginia. Angela could no longer see them through her tear-filled eyes, but she could feel their presence closing in around her and the sound of their voices crudely describing their delight at the kinky spectacle she provided. Karl's accented voice eventually broke over the animated noise of the workers, and Virginia stopped whipping her, leaving her to hang trembling and shaking with terrified agony.
'This is where the fun part begins, Angela,' Karl said, leaning down to talk directly into her tear-streaked face. 'You will be working here from now on...Virginia will be your boss, but any of these men will also be able to tell you what to do. You are to do whatever they ask...without question. Is that understood?'
Angela hung limply in her restraints, her head fogged with confusion and not knowing what he was talking about. Still, she eventually nodded agreeably, and, as her 'reward', was forced to watch helplessly as each man in turn lined up to lash her defenseless slit with their tongues.
It only took a second of the first man's energetic sucking and slurping on her clit to realize that the bizarre, humiliating abuse had made her clit hard and throbbing with surreal delight. The men were only allowed a minute or two each to 'introduce themselves', as Virginia had joked, and each man's approach was surprisingly different.
All the while this was going on, Angela first sensed, then felt something happening behind her. The feeling of something smooth and cold slipping into the crater of her anus filled her with dread, but she couldn't concentrate beyond the perverse arousal being stirred by the procession of tongues on her clit. She realized Karl was about to penetrate her puckered anus with something, but the spasming muscles of her crotch made resistance futile, and, before she could flex her buttocks defensively, her ring slipped tautly around a film, slippery dildo.
Angela arched her back, stretching and curling her toes as the blinding daze of an orgasm suddenly enveloped her. She moaned through the gag as the shaft slowly impaled her back passage, each burrowing inch of it setting off the tingling sensation of shitting until her whole bowel felt packed and solid. She couldn't think straight as the last of the men roughly nuzzled and slurped noisily on her throbbing clit. Their half-unshaven whiskers irritated the sensitive, unfurled channel of her slit, which, Angela felt sure, yawned obscenely open for all to see.
It was a long time after Angela was released before she could think clearly about what had transpired that afternoon. Her ring felt stretched and damaged for many hours afterwards, but the worst was in her mind. The experience had liberated the timid, demure young blonde in some way she couldn't explain, and the next morning she found herself standing naked in front of Virginia's desk, waiting excitedly for the new day's instructions. Her life as a sex slave had begun. | 4 |
8,872 | Christmas with the Andersons | 'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone.
Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better.
One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people.
Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor.
Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical.
The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday.
Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl.
The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?"
Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college."
Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?"
Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again."
Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?"
Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line.
Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?"
"Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister."
"And she's hands off -- right?"
"Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night."
Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess."
Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!"
"She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for five months?"
Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time.
"The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'"
"She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer.
"Amanda! Amanda Anderson!"
Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching.
"Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello."
Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?"
Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice."
"Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband.
He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever."
Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas.
Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school."
"Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas."
Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood.Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes.
And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent.
Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her.
['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy.
Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone. She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well.
Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching.
Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and, his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement.
Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food.
Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!"
As Bobby reached the top of the stairs he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall.
Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress.
"Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper."
Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor.
"Merry Christmas, Bobby!"
Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked!
Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hosting!"
With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt.
In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed.
"Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up."
Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples.
"Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?"
Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue.
"Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed.
While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend!
"Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!"
Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure.
"Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!"
Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck!
"MOTHER! Just what are you doing?"
Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me."
And Bobby did.
He was soon coming in strong spurts and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up.
Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?"
"Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!"
"You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time and I'll see you later."
Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby.
"You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?"
Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy.
She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?"
Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was.
['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!']
Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth.
Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass!
Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?"
Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed and Mindy rolled over on to her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!"Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably, and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends.
"Hey, bud, where the fuck have you been?" Scott asked.
"Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, sure."
"Truth."
Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life!
What a night!
Chapter 11
Saturday, December 24
Christmas Eve!
Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush.
Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on, and he could always find a movie or two.
Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents.
After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors, and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass.
Sunday, December 25.
Christmas Day!
Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents, and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood.
"Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps.
"Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother."
Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts.
All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass, and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day.
Not a creature was stirring...
Everyone had gone to bed early.
Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them.
She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed, put her robe on, and went downstairs. The house was quiet; everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream.
There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax.
She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too.
She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple.
['Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.]
As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden.
['I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, 'but this sure feels good!']
Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them.
She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin.
With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties, and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts, and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed.
She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers.
She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall..."What were you getting for letting him bone you?"
Amanda was going to lie and say "nothing," but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs."
"A boxed set, eh? You that good?"
"He says I am."
"Is that so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?"
Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head.
"No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me."
Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand.
"Taste it, bitch."
Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were.
Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over."
Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told.
Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussylips. She was tight and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her!
He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy.
"Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good."
Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt. "Can I keep the CDs, mister?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?"
"Yeah, sure. Thank you."
Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob.
"Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas."
Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room.She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that!
She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing.
Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his penis and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man.
Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs.
"Is this your first time?"
Embarrassed, Amanda nodded.
"If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?"
Again, she nodded.
But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain.
Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her pussy lips and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop fucking Ron Miller.
And fuck him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe.
As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted. He loved fucking doggy-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her.
When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him and she had shown him she could handle the house -- cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her.
But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids."
Her heart was broken.
But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice.
Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussy lips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clitoris with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure!
Just like now!
She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt.
She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry.
OH, GOD, WHAT A COME!
It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god!
She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD!
It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now!
And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over.
Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles.
"Hello, big brother..." | 4 |
9,161 | Evidence of survival | 'The jewel found in the dunghill', that's what it is, the jewel found in the dunghill. The phrase turned itself over and over in Sir William Cruickshank's mind as he sat, glad of his Inverness cape, listening to the rain battering the roof of the Hansom, and the clip-clop of the hooves, and the jingling of the bells on the harness. Had the old alchemists been right? he wondered fancifully: Was there really a method to transform the elements? Of course there was no alchemical solution to the transmutation, but in 1884, there were new and amazing mysteries to investigate, mysteries as profound as any in the physical world, mysteries at the very interface between the living and the spiritual world, that a man of science could explore; and who more qualified to explore them than Sir William Cruickshank, FRS, the inventor of Cruickshank's torus, and the discoverer of Cruickshank's kathodic emanations?
The cab slowed down and came to a stop. 'I suppose that Holloway is not really a dunghill', he thought, but it very nearly was; and then suddenly an unarticulated question resolved itself: the reason that the material phenomena of spiritualism were manifested by people of the lower class was not that they possessed abilities that were advanced beyond the ordinary, it was because they were more primitive than the ordinary, and retained talents that the more highly evolved human beings, the members of the upper classes, no longer had any need for, and had therefore lost through the process of evolution. 'We solve our problems with reason, and despise the visceral: they lack the refinement for reason and converse with spirits.' Perhaps they had always done so and kept it secret. Perhaps all the stories about shape-changers were literally true. He knew, of course, that the notion was nothing more than a caprice, a thought for teasing children with, and he didn't believe it; but despite that, he was about to take part in a séance.
The cabman opened the door and touched his cap. 'Here we are, Sir, 37, Brickfield Terrace, Holloway. That'll be ninepence.' Sir William took out his purse and picked out a sixpence and four pennies and handed them to the cabman who touched his cap again and said 'It's a dreadful night, isn't it, Sir? Rain like stair-rods.'
'Yes, yes, my man, so it is.'
'Long drive back up west, Sir, and not much chance of a fare in a place like this.'
'No... Oh, I see what you mean.' He sorted out another sixpence from his change and said to the man, 'Mind you don't spend it on beer.'
'God bless you, Sir. You're a scholar and a gentleman.'
'How did he know I was a scholar?' he wondered as he walked across the street to number 37, a mean semi-detached villa, standing behind the broken cast-iron railings that fenced off the subterranean area and the servants' entrance.
Sir William walked up the steps feeling tense with foreboding. Once or twice in his life he had felt that tension before, in the laboratory, when he had been sure that something unusual was going to happen; and once he had experienced the triumphant resolution when it had happened: by chance the torus had been evacuated, and by chance, Tankerton had spilled a solution of something or other on to the bench and had mopped it up with a piece of cotton waste, which by chance, at least not actually by chance, all too predictably in fact, he had failed to dispose of properly, and by chance the switch to the high-tension supply to the torus had been thrown just when, by chance, he had been looking with irritation at the scrap of cotton; also by chance there was a thunderstorm impending and the sky was dark and the colour of slate, enabling him to make out the faint, pale, apple-green luminescence shining from the cotton. 'Come here, Tankerton and look at this.'
'Oh, that, I've seen it before. It's the barium on the cotton, that's all. Some sort of electrical influence comes out of the tube and makes the barium glow. That's why I was messing about with solutions of barium salts in the first place. I spilled some, and mopped it up with that cotton. I thought it was quite intriguing.'
Sir William, having experienced the elation of being the first, experienced the dejection of being the second person to discover the kathodic emanations. He had sat down and had thought what to do. He wrote a paper on the subject and circulated it among his friends in the Royal Society, and they urged him to publish it in the Proceedings of the Society, '... and, well, after all, Tankerton is your employee, his father's a shopkeeper. Give him a bonus, and acknowledge his assistance at the end of the paper and that is more than he deserves.' Thus the world came to know them as Cruickshank's kathodic emanations, but the world ought to have known them as the Tankerton-Cruickshank emanations, or even the Tankerton emanations. Part of the excitement about the new field of research was that it was his alone. Tankerton, a disciple also of Professor Huxley, continued to be derisive about spiritualism and would soon be having to search for another position unless he learned to keep his scepticism to himself.
He knocked at the door and waited. It was opened by the parlourmaid, Gertrude, a blowsy young woman with a pert manner, verging on the familiar.
'Good evening, Sir 'Enry,' she said, 'You are expected.' He didn't bother to correct her. She took his cape, hat, gloves, and umbrella, and then led him down the narrow lobby, matchboarded and painted chocolate brown to the dado, with, above, wallpaper heavily embossed with a floral pattern that had been overpainted in glossy dark maroon. The air stank of boiled mutton and coal-gas. She paused beside the hall-stand where the salver was placed to receive the 'contributions'. He dropped three pounds in gold on to the salver and looked towards Gertrude who stared back at him insolently. He dropped another sovereign and looked at her, and still she stared stonily back. He dropped one more and she pressed her lips tightly together and nodded.
He was shown into a small, hot parlour and was assailed with air thickened with face-powder and cheap scent. There were three people sitting in armchairs: two women, one short and fat, the other large and statuesque, both strictly constrained in taut, black, bombasine, and a thin boy of about 15 in a tight, bright, checked suit, short at the wrists and ankles. The smaller of the women, Mrs Mortimer, stood up to greet him.
'Oh, Sir William. How nice of you to come. Permit me to introduce Mrs Gudgeon, the famous materialising medium.'
Mrs Gudgeon stood up. She must have been six feet tall, a fine figure of a woman, with broad shoulders, a very full bosom, and an hourglass waist. In her late forties perhaps, or even older, her hair, very black, surprisingly, artificially, black, long, done up in a heavy chignon. She had large, dark brown eyes in a white, fleshy, face, with deep lines from the wings of her nostrils to the corners of her lips, and beyond to her jawline, where jowls were just beginning to break on either side, as if somebody had placed a finger in each corner of her mouth and stretched her face downwards a little; but for all that she was a striking, handsome woman, though a little painted on the lips and about the eyes.
'How do you do, Sir William,' she said. 'I'd like to introduce my son, Ronald.' and turning towards him said, 'Say how-do-you-do to Sir William.'
'How-de-do, Sir William. Call me Ronnie, everybody does.' Squirming with distaste and embarrassment Sir William said 'How do you do, Ron... ald.' 'After all, there is a limit', he thought and he reminded himself of the jewel in the dunghill.
'Pleasetermeetcher,' Ronnie replied cheerfully.
Ronnie resembled his mother in his facial features, especially in the down-turned mouth and the lines from the nose to its corners; but in contrast with his mother's glossy black abundance, his hair was mousy, but short and stiff, and though amply brilliantined, it stood away from his head in places.
They stood looking at one another. They all knew what was going to happen, but each was waiting for one of the others to say something. They all knew that there were disagreeable preliminaries to be endured before the séance proper could begin.
'Will there be other participants in the circle tonight?'Sir William asked, trying to hold the tremor down.
'No, Sir William, not tonight. There will just be you, I, and Mrs. Gudgeon. Ronnie will amuse himself with the stereoscope in here, won't you, Ronnie?'
'Rather, Mrs. Mortimer,' he replied with well-drilled promptness, 'Like I always do,' he added, smirking.
'Well, we'd best make a start,' said Sir William. 'If you're ready?'
Mrs. Gudgeon nodded, and they left the stuffy parlor and went through the mutton-coal-gas of the lobby, upstairs, and into one of the rooms on the second floor. This room was a kind of sparsely furnished ante-chamber that opened directly on to the séance room beyond it. There was a chaise-longue in the center of the room, and Mrs. Gudgeon sat down on it. Mrs. Mortimer passed her a button-hook, and she began to unbutton her boots.
'If the experiment is to be evidential, I must watch, I'm afraid,' said Sir William, feeling his blood pounding in his head. Mrs. Gudgeon nodded. 'Of course you must,' she said, leering up at him.
She slipped off her boots and said to Mrs. Mortimer, 'Come on, Gladys, give me a hand with the dress.'
It was very hot in the room, Sir William thought, running his finger inside his collar. Mrs. Mortimer noticed.
'Make yourself at home, dearie,' she said, 'No one will tell tales, so you can take your collar off if you like.' But Sir William did not reply.
The buttons down the back having been undone, Mrs. Mortimer drew the dress apart, and standing up, Mrs. Gudgeon withdrew her arms from the sleeves, the dress transformed by this action into the black spathe of some fantastic night-blossoming lily. Her shoulders were white and creamy; there was a brown birthmark the size of a shilling beside her collarbone. Sir William felt as he always did, uneasy, but prepared to put up with his unease and his excitement for the benefit of science. He looked at her avidly. Mrs. Gudgeon looked at him obliquely and smiled. The word 'marmoreal' popped into Sir William's mind to be replaced almost immediately by 'orchidaceous'.
'Enjoying it, dearie?'
'Certainly not,' he replied. 'If there is any more of this, I'll have to conclude the experiment immediately.'
'Sorry, I'm sure. I can't always make out you men of science.'
'Come on, Gladys, help me.' Mrs. Mortimer slipped the dress downwards to her feet, and Mrs. Gudgeon stepped out of it. Then she sat down again, quite composed, on the chaise-longue, in corset and chemise, her legs apart, her drawers open on the glimpse of darkness.
'It must be a real imposition, having to go through this for the sake of science,' she said.
Sir William was watching her. He knew that fake mediums, particularly the women, would use their sexuality to distract investigators, making it all the more essential that he watch every movement attentively. He knew too, that genuine mediums were sometimes, despite apparent physical vigor, sick-sensitives, in Von Reichenbach's terminology, and as such found it difficult to restrain their animal appetites. Mrs. Gudgeon undid her garters and slipped down her stockings. Her legs were thick and strong, the color of curds in sour milk, but marbled with blue. The toes on both her feet were overlapping and twisted from wearing boots that were too small.
'Check my feet quickly, Professor. I can't hardly bear to look at them.'
She lounged back on the chaise-longue, still with her legs wide apart, still with her drawers open. Sir William convinced himself that it was his duty to look into the opening and looked into the opening, but could make out only the darkness of her hair. He transferred his attention to her feet, taking each foot in his hands, and checked that there was nothing between the toes, nothing hidden. The feet were warm and moist and slightly ammoniacal. When he had checked her toes, he put the stockings back, drawing each up a calf and tying them firmly with the garters.
'Remember your objectivity,' he kept saying to himself. 'Remember your objectivity.'
'Now my laces, please, Gladys.'
She half-turned her back, and Sir William saw that the pink corset had bright mauve laces. Mrs. Mortimer undid the laces, lifted the corset over her head, leaving her just her chemise and drawers. Crossing her arms around her body, cradling her breasts, Mrs. Gudgeon scratched herself.
'Gawd, that's better,' she said to Sir William. 'Makes a bit of a change, really. You looking so hard and not enjoying yourself one little bit, are you, Sir?'
Then she whisked the chemise over her head and sat back, legs apart, looking at him. Her breasts were large, lolling almost to her waist. They had wide areoles and dark red nipples slack in the warmth of the room. She sat up, and they fell forward; she hunched her shoulders and supported a breast on the palm of each hand.
'Still not enjoying yourself, Professor?' She lifted her left breast to her mouth and licked, and then sucked the nipple. 'Never seen anything like this before, I'll bet.'
'If there's any more of this nonsense, I will bring the séance to an end.'
'So what's the next thing then?'
'I have to search to make sure that you have nothing concealed about your . . . er . . . bosom.'
'You're a real martyr, ain't you, Professor? Well, search away.' She leant further forward, her breasts coming to touch each other, forming a deep cleft between them. He knelt down beside her and ran his fingers into the cleft, parting the breasts, reaching to her breastbone with his fingertips: and then taking each breast in turn, he lifted it and probed into the deep fold beneath. The flesh was heavy, very soft, and slightly damp. He smelt fresh sweat and violets. He tried hard to control his breathing. It was difficult. He didn't find anything.
'Now the mouth.'
'Blimey.'
'Open your mouth.'
'It'll be all right, dear,' said Mrs. Mortimer. 'I know that you have the gift, but these men of science, these scientists, have to take the precautions.'
'Well, make him wash his hands then.'
'If you would, Sir.' Sir William nodded. 'There's a wash-basin and jug in the next room.'
'Bring it in here. I can't stop the search now.'
'Well, I can't leave you alone with Mrs. Gudgeon. She's a respectable widow who must be chaperoned.'
'Get the boy to fetch it, or Gertrude.'
'Oh, very well.' Mrs. Mortimer rang the bell and stood by the door waiting for the maid.
'Don't come in,' she said. 'Fetch the jug and wash basin from next door and put them outside this door. When you have done that, you may go downstairs.'
'Yes, Ma'am.'
'Oh yes, and bring a towel.'
'Very good, Ma'am.'
When they heard Gertrude going downstairs, Mrs. Mortimer opened the door and quickly dragged the jug and the basin and the towel into the room. He washed his hands and said, 'Open your mouth wide.'
'You sure you ain't a dentist?' but she opened her mouth.
'Take out the plate.'
'Gawd, I don't believe this,' but she took out the plate with two incisors and one canine tooth. He ran his finger round the gums but could find nothing.
'Now the . . . er . . . drawers.'
She stood up and, looking him in the eyes, undid the drawstrings and pulled the drawers down and off, and sat, naked except for her stockings. Her pubic hair extended almost to her navel, black, streaked with grey.
'And here,' she pointed, 'I suppose you want to stick your fingers in here. I can't believe this,' she said, turning to Mrs. Mortimer.
'No,' he said.
'That's a mercy.'
'. . . but I have an instrument that I would like to use to inspect the interior. Lie on the chaise-longue and draw your knees up to your chest. Now relax.'
'Gawd, it's freezing . . . Ow, that hurts.'
'Just a little more.'
'You believe in getting your money's worth.'
He regarded her opened body, happy that he was not in the least aroused, or excited by what he was seeing. He observed that her genitals were unusually well developed, with particularly succulent, no, not 'succulent', rather, 'well-developed' was the proper description, labia minora. He adjusted his trousers casually.
'And now the . . . er . . . back passage.'
'No, not that. I'm not having that.'
'Oh, but you must, unless you are properly inspected, nothing that takes place could possibly be evidential.'
'Don't you think you are being a little unreasonable, Sir William?' Mrs. Mortimer asked. 'If conditions are right, the spirit of a French marquise will be materialized, as in life, in the flesh, in the séance room, and Mrs. Gudgeon could hardly have her---Pardon me, but I have to say it---hidden up her back passage.'
'I don't enjoy this,' Sir William said anxiously, adjusting his trousers, again.
'No, I can see that,' said Mrs. Mortimer, glancing in the direction of his crotch.
'But I can see that if the spirit is materialized, your point will have been made. So, on this occasion,' he said, curiously disappointed, unfulfilled somehow, 'I think we can dispense with the inspection of the back passage.'
'Let's get on,' said Mrs. Mortimer, and they went into the adjoining room where there was a small table, with three dining chairs arranged round it, and some distance away, there was a two-seater sofa with a second small table beside it.
Sir William closed the door, turned the key in the lock, and tried to open the door. Satisfied that the door was locked, he put the key into his waistcoat pocket.Then, from his wallet, he took out several star-shaped wafers of red, gummed paper, and after moistening them with his tongue, he stuck them over the gaps between the door and its frame in a number of places. He also stuck one over the keyhole. Then he sat down at the table with Mrs. Gudgeon on his left and Mrs. Mortimer on his right. He took off his shoes, and Mrs. Mortimer unbuttoned her boots and slipped them off. Then she lit the candle in a little lantern with a dark-slide and deep ruby glass. She left the table and took the lantern to the other table beside the sofa, and closed the slide, then she turned off the gas, and as the mantles cooled, she hurried back to the table.
Each one held one hand of each of the others; each foot of each one touched one foot of each of the others, closing the circle both above the table and beneath it. Mrs. Gudgeon's hand was hard and dry, Mrs. Mortimer's, hot, soft, and very moist indeed. At first, the darkness seemed total, but after a minute or so, Sir William could just make out the faintest crimson glow from the lantern. Mrs. Mortimer said, 'Let us begin,' and in a faint voice with wavering intonation, began to sing 'Lead, Kindly Light.' Sir William joined in surprisingly timidly, and then Mrs. Gudgeon with a strong, coarse voice followed. Then they sang 'Abide with Me,' and then, while they were singing 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' Mrs. Gudgeon began to convulse. Sir William had to hold her hand tightly, and it became difficult to keep contact with her foot under the table. Her body jerked left to right, and he felt her twisting, and leaning forwards and backwards, the weight of her right breast coming to rest, from time to time, on his forearm or even on his hand.
Suddenly, the convulsions stopped. Mrs. Mortimer said, 'Look, Sir William, to your left.' He turned his head and made out a bluish phosphorescence. A deep voice said, 'Me Red Cloud. Me come from the Happy Hunting Ground to give the good news that there is no death.'
'Why have we got to go through this?' he wondered, 'Phosphorescent paint, and a disguised voice. What will happen will be mysterious enough without this.'
'Spirit strong tonight,' the voice said.
Mrs. Mortimer asked, 'Would you like to ask Red Cloud a question?'
'Will the French lady come tonight?'
'Me only simple Indian. Me not sure. Spirit is strong tonight. She could come.'
There was a rustle of clothing, and a voice whispered in his ear. It said, 'I am La Marquise. Leave the circle and come and sit with me.'
'D'accord, Madame,' he replied, 'je suis enchanté...'
'Speak English, my lord. We all speak English now.'
He stood up carefully and felt the woman place her arm round his shoulders and lead him towards the faint point of crimson. They arrived at the sofa, and after groping in the dark for a moment, sat down side by side.
'What's your name, my lord?'
'Sir William Cruickshank.'
'But what should I call you, Sir Cruickshank, we can't be friendly if I have to call you Sir Cruickshank all the time.'
'You may call me William.'
'You can call me Louise.'
'When did you pass over, Louise?'
'Shush, William, whisper. I don't want those old crones to hear what we are saying. I passed over,' she whispered, 'in the French Revolution, by the guillotine, I remember that. Such a bang when the blade fell and such a shock to my poor head, and now I can't remember the rest of my name, but I'm real, you know, and it's exciting to be brought back to meet you. I am real. Touch me.'
She took his hand and touched it to her lips, 'Feel,' she said, 'just like an ordinary girl. I was sixteen when . . .', she shook and said, 'Hold me.'
He put his arms round her and held her. 'That's better,' she said, taking his hand and placing it inside the neck of her gown on her breast. He felt firmness and the stiffened, almost rigid nipple against his palm, a contrast to the soft, humid, mobility of Mrs. Gudgeon's flesh.
'Just a little secret between the two of us,' she whispered, and he felt her fingers at his fly-buttons, into his pants, and his penis, as if it were an ectoplasmic pseudopod, thrusting out into the darkness of the seance room. 'My governess taught me about pleasing men,' she said, holding him with just her forefinger and thumb, delicately rolling and unrolling the foreskin, to and fro, upon the mitre, moving it gently, almost with a tremor, by minute fractions of an inch over the shoulder. 'And on the other side, it's so lovely, but we don't have no bodies, just pure spirit, but passing over so young, a girl like me never has the chance to find out about anything, not really. And I do so want to learn. And I am real, all of me. Feel here.'
She took his hand and touched it between her legs, parting succulent, deliquescent lips. 'And I'm a virgin too. So unless you help me, I'll never know what it is like.' Her hand went back to his rigid penis and continued its tiny rhythmic movements. 'Please help me.' Then he felt her fingers searching under his waistcoat for his braces, and unbuttoning them, she whispered, 'Stand up.' He stood, and felt her pulling his trousers, his underpants down his thighs. 'Now sit down.'
He sat down, forgetting that he was ever Sir William Cruickshank, FRS, passive, waiting for her to move his mannequin body into the next posture. He felt her hands on his shoulders as she knelt with his legs between hers, and her gown gathered up around her waist, and whispered, 'You will have to guide it,' and she lowered herself, as he guided himself and she engulfed him. She bucked vigorously, 'Like this?' she whispered into his ear, 'Is this right?' and uneasy though he was, soon the knot slipped, his hips heaved forward, and as he came with a great gusting sigh, it seemed to him that she did also. She leant towards him, and lay, warm and heavy against his body for a moment, and then she raised herself away from him, and he heard the rustle of her robe. She was kneeling on the floor beside him. He touched her head at the same time feeling her fingers on his thighs, searching for his groin. She found his now softening penis, and he felt her little sharp teeth as, slightly clumsy in the pitch darkness, she engulfed him a second time, bobbing her head slowly over his lap. The arousal was gradual once again, as she coaxed the refractory penis to erect itself a second time, and then later, almost at the cusp, she stopped and whispered, 'It's extra if I swallow.'
'Yes, yes,' he gasped, 'Anything, anything.' For a moment, as she was taking him into her mouth again, he could feel the wide gap where a few of her front teeth were missing, but in that same moment, he was tormented with the second, sharper, pleasure, and cried out as he filled her mouth and felt her swallowing.
'Are you all right, Sir William?' Mrs. Mortimer called, 'I think the force is weakening, I think the materialisation is coming to an end.'
'Goodbye, William. Thank you. Perhaps we will meet again on this side.'
'Are you ready, Sir William?'
'Just a moment,' he called, easing, with difficulty, his still erect penis into his pants, and quickly closing his trousers, buttoning up his fly and doing up his braces.
She disappeared soundlessly, leaving him wondering what it was that he had experienced.
Mrs. Mortimer waited a moment or two before walking hesitantly to the table beside the sofa and drawing back the slide of the lantern. Then, in the now-dazzling candlelight, she walked across the room and lit the gas.
Mrs. Gudgeon looked across at him grinning, and with her left hand, she lifted up her left breast to her mouth and sucked the nipple vigorously, closing her eyes and slurping her lips. When she took it out of her mouth, it was scarlet and erect. She slowly lowered the breast, and when it was hanging unsupported, she reached across and touched it, circling it with the tip of the index finger of her right hand.
He looked away quickly.
'Well, I will say this,' she said, looking him in the eye as he turned back to face her, 'our professor's a cold fish. Don't you think so, Gladys?'
'Well, Professor,' she continued, 'was it evidential?'
'I think it might have been,' he replied. | 5 |
9,443 | The Tickleopps Tourist Attraction | 'Do you really organize tours like that?' Briget Marlow asked, unable to believe the story of the bizarre tours she was being told about by Mark, a fellow travel agent she met earlier in the day at the conference they were both attending.
'Don't you believe me?' Mark grinned at her.
'I don't know...' Briget smiled uncomfortably, unsure of whether he was playing a teasing mind game with her or not. It was difficult to tell, but Briget was intrigued by the thought implanted in her mind by the weird story Mark told her. And after all, who was she to disagree? Just because "tours for perverts" wasn't ever discussed in the travel agent's course she'd recently graduated from, didn't mean they didn't exist. She absently toyed with the blue plastic swizzle stick in her glass, using it to chase an ice cube around the bottom of the empty glass.
'You can come up to my room and see the tools of my trade, if you like...' Mark said, casually sipping his drink and watching discreetly for her reaction. He had a good feeling about her. It wasn't just that she was attractive - that was something which had virtually become a prerequisite for employment in the competitive world of travel. No, it was something deeper than that.
Mark Grayson had only just met Briget that day and yet he felt as if he'd known her for ages. She gave off a certain vibe to him, like discreet signals that he sometimes felt only he could read. They probably weren't intentional on Briget's part. In fact, he'd have been not nearly as taken with her if they were deliberate. He found no joy in brazenly provocative girls, the ones with short skirts and high opinions of themselves who paraded around full of self-confidence almost daring men to approach them. They invariably turned out being exactly like the personas they projected, and he hated that. He liked mystery. And secrecy. Any girl who brazenly leads men on, particularly where sex is the goal, only does so because she's too unimaginative to get it any other way. That's what he thought, at least.
It had been twenty years since he was in high school, but he still vividly remembered the first time he started to understand himself and what it was he found desirable in the opposite sex. There was a girl in his senior class - Anna - who nobody seemed interested in. He couldn't understand why, although she was clearly not like other girls in his class. She wasn't ugly or anything, though she made it difficult to tell sometimes with the dowdy choice of clothes she wore. And she wasn't dumb. Quite the opposite, in fact, and yet, this didn't make her a part of the nerdy group. She didn't seem to fit in at all and just kept to herself all the time. In some ways, Mark thought this intimidated guys more than anything. It intimidated him at the time mostly because he really wanted to get to know her but didn't know how to get past the layer of quiet shyness which seemed to cloak her. None of the other guys knew what to make of her either, so they ignored her and spent all their school days chasing after the cheerleaders, who invariably led everybody on until that crucial moment when they'd get all prissy and spurn whoever it was who'd been chasing them, leaving the poor bastards with blue balls and their tongues hanging out. Mark quickly tired of this kind of humiliation. Begging just wasn't in his character - not even as a teenager.
Briget reminded Mark of Anna, although she was quite a bit more stylish. He had a thing about grooming and women who took a bit of care in their appearance, and Briget was as pretty as a porcelain doll with silky blonde hair neatly framing her roundish, soft face and a blush of pale rouge that was almost indiscernible from her natural, blemish-free skin. All of this merely enhanced her most alluring feature - the bluest of eyes that sparkled, not just with a vibrancy caught in the yellowish light of the hotel bar, but with the honesty of a young person to whom everything in life seemed new and exciting. It was this sign that Mark valued most highly. It was a look that few women have, particularly those like Briget, who Mark guessed to be in her late twenties. The look of innocence was usually lost in the teenage years or soon after, so anybody older than that who still has it simply had to be extraordinary. They're like gems that, in their raw state, seem lackluster and without value. But all it takes is a little work. A bit of chipping away at the protective shell, some rubbing in the right places, and that arcane wisdom which only experience can instill certain people to make a craftsman like Mark.
Briget, perhaps because her senses were slightly dulled from the drinks she'd been having in the hotel bar with Mark, considered his invitation back to his room. There was no denying he was propositioning her - he couldn't have been more direct, even if it was almost comical in the way it had been made. She smiled inwardly at the funny memories of ridiculous shows on television where the man offers a girl the hackneyed line "come up to my room and see my etchings". She never thought of herself as being fully capable to deal with any proposition, particularly if there was a risk of intimate relations. However, nobody had ever used the "come up to my room" line on Briget and she felt, maybe because it just sounded so funny, that it might be okay to agree. Surely nobody ever used that line seriously, she thought to herself.
It only took a moment's contemplation before Briget agreed to accompany him to his room, though by doing so, a nagging voice in her conscience suddenly spoke to warn her of the possible dangers. It was a familiar voice, one she usually obeyed, but this time she made a conscious decision to ignore it and put it out of her mind. By the time she arrived at his room, her thoughts of caution had evaporated and were replaced with a faint tingle in the pit of her stomach of eagerness to submit to his charm, should things go in that way. Predictions of this nature weren't something Briget was very good at. But she had to at least assume that might happen and, without dwelling on the thought at that time, there seemed a twinge of feeble, indefinable hope.
Mark casually invited Briget into his hotel room and gently closed the door. This was always the most difficult moment of any new encounter - locking the door. He was conscious of the fact most girls, if not all, innately understand the significance of this subtle action. He was aware girls generally reacted one of two ways. Either they'd suddenly begin questioning his motives, to which he'd usually find himself passing it off with some joke knowing that he'd be disappointed and unfulfilled by the end of the evening, even if the girl didn't walk out on him, or she'd accept it without discussion. Whether or not a girl understands the symbolic nature of locking the door, to remain silent at this juncture is to tacitly say "I am your prisoner". It's never something openly stated because this kind of girl is the kind Mark knew and loved. Too timid and polite to object.He discreetly watched Briget for her reaction, which was one of almost visible trepidation, but she was silent as he'd hoped. In fact, she smiled so sweetly, nervously, almost naively as if to tell him she'd never done anything like this, that Mark had to believe she would be even more delightfully submissive than he could have dreamed.
'You've got a lovely big room here,' Briget said, mentally noting and comparing it with the cheaper, smaller room paid for by the travel agency that employed her.
'There's more...' Mark said, waving his hand towards the door next to the mini bar. 'It's a double room...there's another through there.'
'Really?' Briget replied, genuinely curious. 'Are you staying with someone else?'
'No, of course not, Briget...I'm the boss!' Mark laughed heartily, not just to make Briget feel at ease but because he loved the innocent way in which she asked. It was obvious to him why she asked. She wanted to know whether or not they'd be disturbed. He laughed quietly again to himself.
'You mean...you're paying for all of this room for yourself?' Briget asked, watching as Mark leaned over and tapped some keys on the computer he had set up on the coffee table. The hushed sound of a dial tone and then the familiar squeal of an internet connection filled the quiet room.
'Yes...that's right. I told you downstairs...my business is very successful,' Mark said. He was distracted for a moment as he flipped through the screens of email messages he'd received.
Briget quietly moved around the room behind him, taking the opportunity to glance out the window at the sub-tropical tranquility down below. She felt the voice of her conscience buzzing in her ears again as she thought back to their earlier conversation in the bar.
The question formed in her mind but she was reluctant to ask it. 'You weren't joking about those tours?'
Mark stopped what he was doing and looked back over his shoulder at Briget. 'No...' he smiled warmly. 'What made you think I was joking?'
'I don't know...' Briget mumbled, shrugging her shoulders and feeling a little foolish for asking. 'Are you saying you really do organize those tours you told me about?'
'Yes. Does that bother you?' Mark asked, casually returning to his computer task. There was a long silence.
'I guess not,' Briget said, trying to sound confident in her answer.
'It's very lucrative...here...come and see for yourself...' Mark said, pulling a chair close to the coffee table and inviting Briget to sit at the screen.
Briget smiled as best she could, uncertain that she wanted to know any more at all about Mark's strange business, but she quietly demurred and sat for him. 'What are these?' she asked, squinting slightly as she looked at the screen.
'These are messages sent by my clients...click on the folder labeled "Fantasies"...' he said, standing back slightly so he could observe her reactions without her seeing.
Briget nervously placed her hand on the mouse and directed the arrow to the small yellow icon, clicking it gently and watching as the screen filled with about a dozen subfolders. Each was simply numbered with a short code, making Briget feel a little unsettled with cautious interest.
'Let me tell you something before you go any further, Briget...these are my clients...my valued customers...what you are about to see is strictly confidential...do you understand?'
Briget felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, twisting uncomfortably as if to warn her she shouldn't go any further. But her curiosity had been aroused and she felt compelled to continue, sensing that the mystery details contained in the folders might shock her but anxiously wanting to explore further. She mumbled her agreement to maintain discretion and felt for a moment like an athlete waiting for the starter's signal to open the first folder.
'This is Mr Dawson's idea of a great holiday, Briget...' Mark said, knowing in advance what she was about to read. He waited silently as she slowly read through the short list on the screen.
Briget read the first line quickly but suddenly stopped before she got to the end of it. She wasn't at all prepared for what she read and had to re-read it to make sure it said what she thought it said. 'Eeew!' she gasped, feeling awkward about the weird image that flashed to mind.
'What's the matter? Does Mr Dawson's fantasy disturb you, Briget?' Mark smirked after first mocking her reaction in a childish voice.
'Do people really do that?' Briget asked, her voice filled with incredulous doubt.
'What? A grown man wanting to dress up as a schoolboy and have his backside thrashed by a big, angry woman? What's wrong with that?' Mark laughed loudly, cajoling Briget to see the funny side of it.
'I don't know...' Briget said after a minute. Mark was obviously exaggerating about what the strange man had written - he only said that he wanted to be spanked by a woman, not thrashed, but Mark had made it sound even more ridiculous. She took a deep breath and made an effort to sound more worldly than she really was. 'I suppose there's nothing wrong with that...what people do for...you know...' she couldn't bring herself to say 'pleasure'. She pointed the arrow to the next folder and clicked.
'Ah! Mr Fujuma!' Mark said, his voice now alive with a playful humor. Briget burst out giggling as she read his message. 'He says...' she put her hand to her mouth and tried to hold back an uncontrollable laugh. 'He says...I love to wear a diaper under my clothes when I go out. I want you to find me a woman who will dress me like a baby and watch while I pee my pants...' Briget shrieked with laughter, her eyes filling with tears while she gasped for breath.
Mark laughed with her, feeling pleased with her reaction so far. He knew by the way she was laughing that she would be intrigued by the next client and, without rushing her, he urged her to go to the next folder. He didn't say anything as she opened it and began reading. Briget was still having little fits of giggles from reading about the fruity Mr Fujuma but, as he expected, these quickly subsided as the content of the next message sank in.
'Well...what do you think?' Mark eventually asked, waiting while Briget read the message for a second time.
'Mmmm...' was all Briget could say. She was dumbstruck, not just by what she read, but by the unexpected shiver that made her skin prickle with goosebumps.
'He's prepared to pay a good deal of money to find what he's looking for...' Mark wasn't sure the money aspect would appeal to Briget, but he was relieved that she meekly asked the fee he charged for his service and so he told her.
'That much?' Briget said, sounding unsure of whether the amount was good or bad. It actually didn't interest her. What did interest her was the peculiar request he'd made. She glanced again at his name, Jeremy, at the bottom of the short message and then scanned back up quickly to look again at the line which had really caught her interest. He said he wanted Mark to "find him a new girl to play with..."
'Are you interested?' Mark asked.
Briget wasn't ready to know what to say. She was still engrossed in a tantalizing daydream which suddenly sprang to mind after she read what Jeremy had gone on to say - "I want to spend a weekend with this girl exploring every part of her..."
'It doesn't sound too strange to me...' Mark whispered.
Briget wasn't wanting to hear that just at the moment. As far as she was concerned, it was strange and thoroughly bizarre, especially the next part - "I want somebody who is NOT willing to have the most intimate recesses of her sensuality investigated...someone tied up and helpless while I give them the TICKLEOPPS treatment to reveal their most hidden desires..."
There was no doubt in Briget's mind that this weirdo wanted to torture somebody by tickling them, a concept that was too freakish to believe, but one which made her head reel with a totally new and astonishing thrill. Briget had never given much thought to things such as bondage, mostly because she tried to keep such thoughts out of her mind. She now felt confused. As far as she had known, bondage was only ever spoken about in either joking terms, like it was some weird abnormal fetish of harmless weirdos or, more disturbingly, in conjunction with a serious crime like rape. Both uses it seemed alarmed a sense of guilt in Briget. The thought of being considered a weirdo was not a pleasant one and being bound and made vulnerable and helpless was, on the one hand, highly arousing for unknown reasons but also frightening when she considered the dangerous possibility of being hurt or even killed by some wild lunatic. But Jeremy didn't seem to be a lunatic, at least, not in a violent kind of way. After all, how could tickling somebody be dangerous?
'Come on Briget...it'll be fun!' Mark said, throwing caution to the wind and gently taking hold of Briget's wrist to help her to her feet.
'What?' Briget was suddenly paralyzed with dread. It was immediately obvious what Mark was suggesting, though she couldn't think straight to voice a proper objection. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, unwilling as she was, across to the door connecting the neighboring room. 'You can't mean me...' she was mumbling as he pushed her, gently but firmly through the door.
'Come along Briget...you know you want to...' Mark smiled kindly at her as if to reassure her there was nothing wrong with him slipping her white cotton blazer off her shoulders.
'No...I don't...really...' Briget's voice trembled, her attention caught by the sight of bondage paraphernalia lying on the large bed in the center of the room. She struggled, twisting her wrists which he gripped securely in his hands, but didn't resist enough to prevent him removing her blazer completely.
'Yes you do...' Mark laughed happily, realizing that her reluctance was more show than real.
'No...I don't...'Briget,' said Mark as he released his grip on her wrists and quickly unbuckled the broad leather belt of her modest skirt.
'I don't...' Briget whispered, almost breathlessly, as Mark pulled her toe-to-toe and pressed his face into the side of her neck. His warm breath and gentle nibbling made her shiver, and she instantly swooned, lolling her head back while he lightly kissed her beneath the ear.
'Yes you do, Briget...' he said, briefly lashing her ear with his tongue. He could feel her melting, her hands no longer pushing away his, which were blindly unhitching her skirt. It fell silently to the floor around her ankles, the heavy belt buckle tinkling quietly as it dropped on the carpet.
'I don't...' Briget sighed, her eyes closed and body trembling apprehensively as Mark's fingers groped for the small pearly buttons of her blouse. He was being very hasty in his undressing of her, yet this seemed to make it feel more sensuous than she could have imagined. In fact, Briget sensed that if she was given the opportunity to think, she'd break free from him and run from the room, and so she found herself secretly willing him to be quicker, compliantly shedding her blouse when prompted by Mark's peeling it open.
Mark knew he had her once he caught sight of her breasts, neatly cupped in the filigree scallops of lace holding them. The shadowy dark circles of her nipples were already displaying signs of arousal, with the small buds pointed tensely in the fabric. He hooked his fingers into the elastic between her breasts and led her closer to the bed, pulling it just roughly enough to tacitly convince Briget of where he wanted her to be.
Briget was already blushing when Mark deftly snapped open her bra, the single hasp between her breasts popping open with hardly any encouragement from him. The sudden freedom of the fleshy mounds caused them to jiggle momentarily, alerting her to the fact she was almost completely nude. Briget relaxed slightly as Mark nudged her, gently pushing her so she flopped face first down on the cool, soft bed. There was almost a reflex action from her as she felt his fingers hooking into the flimsy elastic of her plain lace undies. Without any prompting, she pressed her elbows into the mattress and discreetly raised her hips, her face burying into the sweet-smelling pillow to conceal her nervous embarrassment as her body was stripped bare of the last remnant of her clothing.
If it had been difficult for Briget to submit to the removal of her clothes, it was even harder to permit Mark to manacle her wrists with the broad leather cuffs he wrapped around each of them. It wasn't so much that she didn't want him to - she did, albeit with some reservations. But he was mercifully quick, buckling each wrist before turning his attention to her ankles. Briget felt light-headed as each of her ankles was wrapped snugly with leather cuffs. She bent her arms defensively up under her body, defensively because he was about to steal her freedom and she was willingly submitting. The way his hands grabbed her ankles, manipulating the shoes off her feet, thrilled her and made her acutely aware that she was now completely naked. In a moment, he was back beside her head, leaning over and gently prizing her manacled wrists free from under her body so they could be attached with attractively small padlocks to the ends of a long wooden bar. Briget watched silently as Mark tugged the bar close to the bedhead, lifting the loose end of a short rope from behind it to secure the bar and Briget's outstretched arms above her head.
'You see,' Mark said. 'I told you you wanted this!'
Briget just blushed and sheepishly mumbled her agreement. 'Yes...but not from some stranger...'
'Don't worry Briget...you won't know who's in here with you...or care...' Mark chuckled to himself as he slipped a sleeping mask over her head.
'What are you doing?' Briget felt a rush of panic as everything went black behind the mask. She arched her back, immediately struggling to turn her head to try and discern what he was doing.
'Yes...' Mark said thoughtfully. 'Very nice...it's even got the nice little emblem of the airline company on it...they gave us those in a sample bag when we arrived at the conference...I wonder why they did that?'
Briget didn't laugh at his perverse joke. Instead, she fought desperately against the manacles around her wrists, feeling more and more helpless, especially when she felt his hands back on her ankles.
'Please...please Mark...don't do this...let me go...' Briget whimpered as her legs were spread obscenely apart. The small vibration of the padlocks snapping closed at the ends of a long bar sent little shock waves through her ankle bones, up her widely spread legs and seemed to ripple around her crotch until all her concentration suddenly zoomed to her clit. She dared not speak out loud what she was thinking, but the sensation of having her body trapped in such a lewdly revealing position had stimulated her in a totally unexpected way, and she felt certain her now swollen clit was itching and stirring from beneath the protective fleshy hood at the apex of her pussy. This both filled her with a dry-mouthed excitement and acute embarrassment, intuitively sensing Mark's penetrating gaze on her uncontrollable display of perverse delight. The cool conditioned air filled the void between her thighs, reminding her that she was helplessly on display for him, unable to do anything to modestly protect herself. Struggling against the secure restraints only deepened her escalating arousal - the tender lips of her slit unfurling almost magically to betray her most profound emotional condition.
'There! That should hold you!' Mark said, hitching a rope from the center of the spreader bar to the short middle castor wheel at the bottom end of the bed. 'Now...let's get Jeremy on the phone and see what he has to say about you. I'm sure he'll be very pleased!'
Briget's heart pounded furiously in her chest. Mark's fingers feathering on the soles of her feet, gently pressing into the soft webbing between her wriggling toes, made her think again about the message she'd read from Jeremy. She listened intently to the beeping sounds of buttons being pressed on a mobile phone, Mark obviously using the moment to imply by his casual groping of her sensitive feet what would happen once his client arrived.
Mark listened as the phone buzzed its familiar ringing tone, admiring the perfectness of the beautiful nude body stretched out on the bed in front of him. He felt swelled with self-satisfaction, his eyes wandering from the tips of Briget's long, spidery fingers to the tips of her attractively dainty toes. There was a pinkness about her feet which was highly alluring to him. It suggested not merely a cleanliness about her, but was a clear sign of her wariness about having them handled in any way. He cupped the big toe of her right foot in his hand just to feel its form. He held it for a second, twisting it gently to force Briget's foot into a position where he could see the subdued red gloss on her toes. He congratulated himself silently for having been accurate with his first impression of Briget. The nails were neatly trimmed, and the application of the red polish revealed things about her he knew she probably didn't even realize herself. He didn't have to imagine her sitting in her room earlier in the day, rubber spacers holding her toes widely spread while she applied the gloss, being thoroughly careful to paint it on evenly and without spillage on her toes. He knew she was too innocent yet to understand, but the ritual of painting her nails, especially in making her toes attractive, was a manifest sign of a desire to have them tickled and caressed. It was also true, Mark knew well, that a girl who'll let you touch her feet will let you touch her anywhere. It didn't matter that Briget presently had no say in the matter. She wasn't objecting at all to his sensual caressing, and, looking at the way the rest of her beautiful nude body was vulnerably open to his eyes, there was no way she could stop him or anybody else caressing her all over. Mark wondered whether he should check his computer for the names of some other clients...maybe make a group booking for the weekend?
'Hello, Jeremy?' Mark said when his call was finally answered. 'I have your itinerary all set out here and ready to go...don't forget your camera!' | 4 |
14,569 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'I am now coming onto that. I will not let you get to the point where you are in danger of death because your poor body cannot cope with the stress. Therefore, I will give you a pill whenever you start to lapse into a coma.'
'The thought of more of me being like THIS repulses me, but let me choose when to take a pill.' At the 'this' I again gestured to my legs (Thigh over Thigh, STOP IT).
'I had been thinking along the same lines,' I admitted.
'OK, I will agree, but if you try to hold out past a danger point, I will override and force you to take one.'
So by current reckoning, I had...Let me see...9 hours left until the next pill, that means there will be seven pills left. At two days a pill, that gives me just over fourteen days before I am Elizabeth Bexley. However, at what point will I be female - when breasts grow, when I have a vagina, womb, or is gender just a state of mind? Ten days after that will mean either happily ever after or.. No, the other is just too unthinkable.
Kat said, 'Plenty of time -- just under a month to E day.'
How does Kat know what I am thinking? Women's intuition?
'Listen, I want to go for a walk to see if anyone saw anything a few days ago,' I know I should have gone earlier, but this has knocked us all out of sorts,' Kat said, and with this, she went out of the room.
Alone, with only five hours to go before the pain really started, I started to think logically.
If I can last two days after taking one pill, maybe taking two pills will extend it past a week. Some of the drug must still be left in me after the changes in order to stop the fever. So now three days was the most I went without, and that was the limit, and I become very uncomfortable after two and a half days. So if I take two pills, then I should be able to last at least five days, maybe even six. Which means that my total male time remaining would be 7 * 2=14, or if I took two pills and they lasted me five days, it would be 7/2=3.5 pills multiplied by 5 equals 17.5 days, which buys me 3 and a half extra days.
Three hours later, and Kat had not yet returned. Well, what have I got left to lose, I thought. Your dick for a start came the reply from inside me.
I will take two pills to see if I can overload the drug to extend the time I have available.
Let me think. Pills three and four gave me her legs, so which ones won't give me tits and a cunt. I didn't know how Elizabeth would number the pills, so I, taking a glass of water and trying not to spill any as the fever was beginning to get a grip on me, took pills five and six in quick succession.
I erupted in spasm only to pass out.
Five hours later, a very concerned Kat was standing over me.
'What did you do, You took one, didn't you?'
'No, two,' and I explained my reasoning to her.
'You stupid idiot!' she shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation. That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.'
'What have I done?' I sobbed.
'How long?'
'About five hours.'
'Can I stay and watch?' she asked with a curious look.
'You are sick!'
'No, just curious,' she said with a mischievous grin.
At that moment, I was kicked in the gut by a mule, at least it felt like that. My mouth started to froth as I convulsed in pain. Wave after wave of mule kicks made me lose consciousness.
I awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' I rasped.
'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' Kat said.
I reached for my dick, and the relief of finding him still there was immeasurable. I then reached up to feel for breasts, but all that met my hands was my smooth skin. Phew, no tits! Wait a minute. Smooth Skin!
I stood up and dashed to a mirror.
What greeted me there was a shock -- round but firm muscular shoulders sat above a smooth, hairless, slim form. They were the kind of shoulders that came from lots of time in the gym, but not macho in any shape or form. There were no breasts or hips to emphasize the womanly shape, but the rounded, sylph form of Elizabeth's body stared back at me.
'No, no, no, what was I thinking!' I sobbed.
Kat's fingers traced the lines of my now womanly shoulder blades.
I recoiled away.
'I thought you took two pills,' she said.
'I did.'
'But only one thing changed.'
'This is a pretty big thing,' I sobbed. I noticed for the first time how my belly seemed to go in, forming a tight, muscled flat stomach.
'At least your navel has stayed the same, although the shape of your stomach makes it smaller and much more cute,' Kat stated.
'Navels aren't genetic, remember.'
I ran my hand over the smooth skin of my new body. This sent tingles down my spine, and once again, I felt aroused. However, seeing those curved, rounded shoulders, flat stomach, and flat, thin, hairless chest soon turned me off.
'What is up with me. How can I be a normal woman if I catch myself ogling my legs and body?' I just noticed my collarbone was more visible now and seemed to want to try and connect to thankfully non-existent breasts.
'You took two pills. You must have another part to go.'
'No way! I need to go bad,' I said.
Sitting on the toilet, looking down at my sylph-shaped body, I wondered where and how it was going to end. I actually knew where it was going to end - me ending up being female, but the other issue was how Kat would react to sleeping with a woman. The thought of even kissing a man caused me almost to vomit.
Wait a minute! PAIN! Crunch of bone! I looked down at my shapely, firm thighs only to notice that my hips were suddenly much smaller.
'Kat,' I gasped, and I rolled off the seat.
She rushed in. 'Oh my God!' she screamed.
The flesh was rippling around my hips while inside me, several rhinos were trying to escape. I clutched my abdomen in pain.
'Ahhh, my belly!' I sobbed.
'That must be your womb forming.'
The flesh movements were subsiding where I could see them, but the sensation from my ass had increased.
'Turn round,' Kat said, and she showed me the view of my rear in the mirror. My buttocks were re-forming, becoming tighter, smaller, and much, much more feminine. The rippling stopped. Nice ass, I thought, but the rhinos reminded me that it was now mine.
I stood up, still weak and sweaty. Thankfully, the rhinos had stopped. Which gave me time to examine the changes. In front of the full-length mirror stood a very peculiar sight -- a titless, fannyless woman stood there with muscular arms and a very non-feminine face. Smooth, graceful curves went from my rounded shoulders past my chest and dipped in at just the right point. My hips caused the classic hourglass figure, while my long legs now seemed to be far more at home curving gracefully into my hips.
The taut, muscular stomach now blended into a bulge in the pubic area, which I with horror assumed must be my womb. Turning round, I saw how my ass was firmer, much more shaped, and indeed would probably have won 'rear of the year'. Each cheek was delicately shaped with just enough curve to cause yet another curve from the small of my back to my ass.
'Oh no, no, no, no, no,' I sobbed. 'Apart from a few bits, I am a woman now.' More sobbing as I broke down in tears.
'Don't be silly, you may have curves in all the right places now, but look, you are still male. You still have a dick, your face is hardly girlish, and not many women have arms as hairy as yours,' Kat tried to console me.
'You don't understand! If I have a womb, it now means that I am producing female hormones, which will cause me to grow breasts and become more ladylike.'
'Yes, but your testosterone will fight that, and tests have shown that testosterone will cancel out any excess female hormones.'
'How did you know that?'
'What? You think I never read anything before?'
'Sorry, look, I am really stressed about this. I thought I could cope until this change. This is the point of no return. I must try and adjust, but I find I cannot. I look in the mirror or at my legs and see HER, not me, HER.'
Kat hugged me, and her fingers ran comforting circles around the small of my back. I could feel her breasts heaving against my smooth skin, and again, the moment was spoiled as I pulled away.
'What?' she said.
'I'm sorry, I loathe anything female now. I feel your breasts against my chest and imagine waking up to find I've got them too, you deciding you cannot live with me, me trying to fit in being a woman but failing. Look at this.'
I stood up and walked across the room. I was aware of my hips swaying, but tried to put it out of my mind.'See the REAL Elizabeth walked with such grace and posture that she seemed to float, but look at me -- I just waddle. I'm an in-between trapped now between two worlds and I just want my old life back.'
'With that figure, you look more in my camp than yours,' Kat said.
'I know,' I sobbed.
'Look, let's get some sleep. I still want to sleep with you, and if it helps, you can wear my black teddy and garters. I know that turns men on, me as well thinking about it.'
'We've had this conversation before.'
'Yes, but not when the chances of you being able to make love to me properly have dropped from ten to one to six to one.
'Just let me rest -- this is the worst day of my life.' I was feeling utterly tired, and again my normal healthy desires were out to lunch.
I awoke early in the morning, much refreshed, and decided to venture outside. I tried on one of my old shirts, but it was now far too loose and hung on my new body like an old sack. A T-shirt was no good as it showed every curve of my new shape, and although I once again looked lustfully at the body under that shirt, reality soon struck back. Pants were another problem. My normal size didn't fit anymore, and even when the belt was fastened as tight as it would go, they still either looked ridiculous or extremely baggy.
Kat had been watching my 'fashion show' with some concern, but also she was a little amused.
'Do you want to try something of mine?'
'No, that would be giving in to what is happening to me. The moment I try on women's clothes, I am admitting what I am becoming, and that I refuse to do.'
'Dressing up can be fun,' Kat said.
'Maybe, but I can't pass as a woman even if I wanted to. My hair is too short, my hands too big, and...and why am I even thinking this?'
'Because you are trying to adapt to your situation and are willing to give it a try.'
'LISTEN,' I hissed.
'What?'
'I will repeat again. I will resist this with all my might. I am facing a craving for something that will destroy our life together. I cannot give in to it,' I added with passion.
'Fair enough. Do you want me to see what I can buy for you? I need to take your measurements.'
'I know them: waist 36, inside leg...'
'No, your new measurements with a body that shape. Now I have to take hip and waist.'
'OK,' I said, defeated.
'Let me see: waist 24, hips 36. At least Elizabeth is perfectly proportioned.'
'Remember, nothing female, no skirts, no leotards.'
'This IS Egypt. It is not done for a lady to show her legs or ankles in public, so I will buy pants for you.'
An hour later, she was back, carrying a couple of bags. 'Here, try these on,' and she threw me a pair of stretch jeans. 'These are women's jeans,' I protested.
'You have a women's body shape now; men's just won't fit now.'
I reluctantly put them on and did them up. The first thing I noticed was how much a bulge my dick made in them, but I had no desire to see that go. Turning around, I saw my ass, well, Elizabeth's ass in these tight jeans, and as I looked in the full-length mirror, I again thought, 'God, she looks good in those.'
'Look cute, don't you?' Kat said.
Again, my lust was jolted back to reality. 'Why do I fancy myself every time I look in the mirror?'
'That's easy, it's because inside you are a normal hetero-male, even though the outside is beginning to look decidedly the opposite. Try these on,' and Kat threw me a shirt and some sandals.
The shirt tried to hide my curves, but it would be obvious to anyone who looked closely that men shouldn't have curves where I had. The sandals were the most satisfactory thing. It was only the size of my feet that gave anything away.
Fully clothed for the first time in days, I ventured outside. The sunlight was bright, and the day gloriously hot. We did the normal things tourists do in Egypt: pyramids and Sphinx tombs, and for two glorious days, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Yes, my new body got some strange looks from the more observant. I still refused to sleep with Kat, as I knew that sooner or later, more drastic changes would occur. The sex situation was not helped by my distinct lack of sex drive.
Don't think for a minute I had accepted my fate. I detested every waggle of hip, every curve, every part of my new body. I had to go along for Kat's sake. I must say, though, that she has been taking it very well, but I hate to think what will happen later on. Kat stated her disbelief that I was still in denial over this, but then I am who I am, or should that be I am who I was. Still, seize the day.
In fact, the fever hadn't returned after the third day, and it looked as though my theory was right. Kat suggested that it was because my body needed time to recuperate and that the fever wouldn't return until it was safe to do so.
'If it does, I am taking two at a time again. These past few days were the best I have felt since it all began,' I said to Kat.
'No, I want you male as long as I can! How can you be so selfish? I have needs too, you know.'
Two more days passed, which made a total of five days in which I felt OK.
'I'm bushed,' I said.
'Me too, want to go to bed?'
'Sleep yes, sex no.'
'I can't wait forever, you know, neither can you! I may be able to fondle you and caress you when you are Elizabeth, but you won't be able to screw me.'
'Please, I must deal with this in my own way.'
'You haven't been dealing with it at all. Every time it's "I can't cope", "being a woman is worse than being dead", "how can I fancy myself" or "No, I won't screw you because I remind you of what you may/are becoming".'
'I waited a year to sleep with you. Can't you wait a little longer?'
'Any longer, and we will be sharing Tampons,' and with that, she stormed off.
Sitting in bed, looking at my shapely legs, the curve of my hips, and the slenderness of my body, I realised that I had been selfish and that I would make it up to her when she returned.
The next morning, the fever returned, but Kat was nowhere to be found. I was too unwell to venture out, and in any case, if I left the room, she might come back, get the wrong idea, and then leave, this time for good. So I stayed put.
Room service delivered dinner, but again, no Kat, so I ate in silence and pain. About 10 pm, I crashed out. Morning came, and with it, the now familiar cravings. A thought popped into my head -- take a pill that'll show her. But I was wise now to this Narcotics trick, and stubbornly refused to give in.
Six pm, and still no Kat, and this time I could bear it no more. Taking a glass of water, I swallowed pill number seven. The pill seemed a little larger than the others, and I had to take two goes to get it down. Now I just wait.
I looked into the jar and saw only FOUR pills left. Quickly, I tipped them out and counted them. Pills ten, nine, one, two -- where was eight? The extra-large pill! Eight must have been stuck to seven.
'Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Oh Kat, Where are you...'
Three hours later, and still no Kat and no changes. This meant that I would know what parts of me were to change in the next three hours. The fever subsided after another half hour. I sat on the bed, completely naked, just waiting for the inevitable.
There was no pain, just an ache in my arms. As I tried to write a sorry note, I dropped the pen on the floor. Reaching out for it with my left hand, I noticed slender fingers on an even more delicate hand, a surgeon's hand. As I noticed this, the hairs on my left arm fell out, and muscles began to reshape into a more delicate form. I saw that my elbow now had that cute little dimple that Elizabeth had. My left arm was now much more in line with the rest of me. The muscles seemed to flow much more gracefully into my rounded shoulders, and my hand and nails were just as I remembered Elizabeth's to be. I was so taken in by the changes that had occurred to my left arm that it wasn't until I put a hand to feel its smooth, soft skin that I realised that BOTH my arms had changed.
I had to think rationally. I had dodged a bullet, so to speak, this time, but the countdown to cunt time was getting shorter. Where was Kat?
(OK THINK!!)
There were ten pills, and there are now four left. Six parts of me now resembled those of Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, which means that each limb and body part must be a pill.
Pill inventory time...
Pills three and four had given me her legs (Thigh Over Thigh again, NO) -- Pills five and six gave me these wretched curves and a womb -- Pills' seven and eight (by mistake) gave me her slender arms. This must mean that one of the remaining pills must change my face, neck, and my god, voice! I had admired that voice for years. (Concentrate..)
One must be the coup-de-grace -- the one that condemns me to womanhood. The next two, of course, a breast each. But which was which?
The next day, to my horror, the fever returned. Kat was right -- it was the drug that determined how long it took for withdrawal symptoms to show, not the amount of pills taken. Kat, where are you, Kat?
My body had gone through some major changes, but arms were minor, so it figures that the only large one left was my head and dick. I cannot now think straight as the fever hits in waves.
I lay on the bed, calling Kat's name, but still, she did not come. Some hours later, I had to take another pill, but which one? My limbs came in pairs, so breasts must come in pairs of pills as well. That means, shit, both nine and ten and one and two are pairs. Never mind, I must take one. Taking the glass of water, I shut my eyes and popped a pill into my mouth and swallowed it. Quickly counting the three pills remaining showed me that I had swallowed number nine.
Seven hours after taking pill nine, and just after I thought that must be a dud, my head felt as though it was being hit by a very large brick. I rushed to the mirror.
Through the pain, I realised that I, at last, was going to LOOK like my ex-fiancée. I couldn't speak, and my head was in a whirl. Bones crunch! and my face is now oval in shape, my normal square chin gone, replaced by a rounder, softer one.My womanly hands clutch at my nose as I can feel it reshape and form hers.
Pain in my gums indicates that my teeth are being reshaped, while my lips reform to form her pout. In a moment of calm, I notice my ears look different - they are her ears.
I go blind for what seems an eternity as stabbing pains shoot through my eyeballs. When I blurrily look in the mirror, I see that my once brown eyes are definitely blue with a touch of gray. My normally thickish eyebrows now form a frame for a lovely yet terribly familiar face. I pull at my hair, which is now growing auburn at the roots as my entire scalp itches. I can now speak, but the voice is not my own. Somewhere, Elizabeth is calling "no no no." The full lips in the mirror match the sound, and I now own that voice.
The hair by now has grown until it reaches my shoulders, and it's a strange sensation on my curved form that adds yet more pain. The hair is matted by sweat, but there is no doubt that I now look exactly like Elizabeth.
I see delicate hands move up to the full pouting lips. (That's strange - I can feel hands on my mouth). They move to the oval, high-cheekboned face and trace the contours with a finger (that's even odder - why is there no stubble?).
"No, this can't be me," Elizabeth's voice says again, the lips in the mirror matching the words. After what seems like hours, I begin to realize that any pretense of being a man died with that pill. Breasts and even a fanny can be hidden, but a face like this, not a chance.
The full impact of the changes over the past few weeks came to me at that moment. I had been kidding myself - this was how I was going to look now, and Kat had been right, we should have made the most of it, but where is she?
But I was/am a man - how could I let Elizabeth do this to me?
As I sat naked, feeling my new hair brush against my shoulders, despair began to weigh on me. My life, my marriage was over. Kat, in spite of all her platitudes, had no real desire to sleep with a woman - she was no lesbian. But what was I? I could never fancy a man, and the thought of even kissing one recoiled. I still fancied women. Yes, I know that lesbian relationships can be sexually satisfying. But I am a man! My instincts are to penetrate, not be penetrated.
I noticed that Kat had left a bottle of champagne in the fridge, and I opened it with much difficulty (of course, I was stronger when I had MY arms).
Several glasses later, I was feeling much worse, not drunk, depressed, and I just wanted to end it, the whole thing. Let me be a woman - I don't care anymore..
Staring at the pill jar and the glass, the choice was easily made. Pills one and ten followed quickly after each other, and as I sank down into a fitful sleep, I dreamed of better days when I knew which bathroom to go in.
Morning came, and I awoke. I thought I heard Kat return. I leapt out of bed but instantly regretted it as two large breasts bounced heavily on my chest.
I did what any right-thinking man would do. I screamed.
Gingerly, I put a womanly hand to my right breast. Its warm, sensitive firmness surprised me. I had felt tits before, but never on me. Its weight surprised me, as did exactly how sensual it felt. Gingerly, I took my hand away, and it flopped back down again, causing a strange sensation. I studied them in more detail than was perhaps healthy, but these were MY breasts, and it was not natural for a man to have them.
They jutted out from my chest as though they wanted to be separate from me, their round shapes forming a definite cleavage. The nipples were pink but small, and the areolas were a darker color. Again, my hand touched a nipple, and it almost made me jump at the sensation. The nipples began to swell, and in fact, if this was a woman, I would have to say a woman in arousal. But then again, the swelling in my jeans must mean something. Anyway, going back to my breasts, I rubbed them with another hand and let out a small whimper.
"Steady on, you'll wear them out," Kat said. | 3 |
17,642 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'Kat' or should I say 'Jas' looks like your luck is about to change.
The door opened, and in walked, how shall we put this, an Adonis. He was tall with deep brown eyes, and not a muscle (and there were plenty of them) was out of place.
"I see that my money was not wasted. Come, my princess," Adonis gestured for me to follow.
This I did, wondering if I was right not to resist. In spite of all this man's charm, I was married to the man I loved. If I was ever to see him again, I must gain this man's trust. I followed him outside and into a large white limousine. He gave me a glass of champagne and said, "You are the most beautiful of all my women. No man shall have you except me; you will serve no man except me. All my riches are as nothing to your beauty."
I couldn't help but feel a glow of pleasure being complimented in this way. I guess I must call him master or something.
"Thank you, master."
"I am not your master. How could anyone lay claim to such beauty? You may call me Hassan, and you will be at my side, always. I will not have you unless you consent, for that would corrupt your beauty. You are my precious rose, there to look at and admire, not to pluck with a harsh hand. I have waited many years for a chief girl, and I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one," he said with such a gentle look on his face that my heart was beginning to melt.
"Thank you, Hassan. I will remember your promise to me," I said.
We sipped champagne in silence as the limousine drew up outside a large walled palace. Guards opened the large steel gates, and we drew into a wonderful courtyard. A fountain was in the center, and all around was the sweet smell of flowers.
The door was opened for me by a butler, and I got out and stared around.
"Welcome to your new home, my love," Adonis said.
Hmm, I could stay here for a while, I thought. Hassan gestured for me to follow him, which I did. We went past large rooms where the whisper of female voices could be heard through closed doors.
"You are too precious to stay with my other women," Hassan said.
We went to a large winding staircase, and we climbed. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, we reached the top. Hassan opened the door, and I went in.
The room was one can only describe as palatial. Easily as large as my house at home, it had a four-poster bed with ornate silk covers. The room was littered with flowers, and a carpet of fresh rose petals lay under my feet.
"It's fantastic," I gasped.
"If you need anything, you can have it," Hassan said, and with that, he left.
Alone for the first time since the auction, I explored the room. Behind a silk curtain was a walk-in closet with every kind of outfit. From an elegant designer ball gown to some sports kit. Kat, my girl, you really landed on your feet here. I mustn't lose sight of my true goal. A cage is still a cage, no matter how elaborate the bars.
In one corner was a sunken bath full of warm white liquid. I dipped a finger in. It tasted like milk. I'd read about Cleopatra bathing in asses' milk and had always wanted to give it a go. I took off my Jasmine outfit and looked down at my new body. My situation had so overpowered me that I had forgotten who I now looked like. Jane Stephens was no more, at least in body.
I dipped a brown, slender leg into the bath. Ummm, that felt good. I put my other leg in and sank in. Oww, I'd just sat on my hair. I'd forgotten it was that long. I stretched out and relaxed for the first time in ages. It didn't bother me as much as I thought, having my body changed like this. Sure, I'd want my proper form back, but this was nothing compared to how HE is changing.
Oh God, what's happening to me? I've become intoxicated with this place. I'm beginning to forget. This place is like the Elysian Fields; once here, you forget your past. Hassan does not need bars and armed guards to keep his women here; he seduces them with words and milk baths, and soon they forget their past. This I will not do. Hold on, my sweet, I'll be back soon; this I vow.
After spending an hour in the bath, I got up and dried myself off. Hmm, being Jasmine's not so bad, but I've yet to meet someone who will recognize me as her.
I put on an ornate silk dressing gown and, tired from the events of the day, slept.
A knock at the door awoke me at, I guess, around 11 am.
"Come in," I shouted.
At the door was another girl, this time dressed in what I would call traditional harem costume. She was smaller than me at 5'4", large-breasted, and looking very scared.
"The master requests your attendance at his conference now," she said.
"What shall I wear?" I asked.
"The master asks that you wear dress five from your collection and shoes number twenty," she said, still in fear of me. Why?
I went over to the closet and saw each hanger had a number. I saw a beautiful blue saffron dress that seemed to shimmer in the light. I put it on and looked in the nearby mirror. I'm still not used to my new reflection, but I will admit the old me could never carry off that outfit the way I could now. My hair was a mess, though. I went over to the dressing table and went to pick up an ivory hairbrush.
"Mistress, you are not allowed; let me," the lady said.
"Okay, thanks," I said as I gave her the hairbrush.
I sat down, reveling in the feeling of having my hair brushed in such a sensuous way. Remember, Kat, Elysian Fields, hold on to your promise.
"I have done, mistress," the girl said.
I stood up and looked in the mirror in awe of the image there. No one I had ever seen had ever portrayed such an air of grace and majesty as I now did. A beautiful Arabian princess stared back at me, her arms moving up to her face in time with mine. The blue dress showed every curve, my tiny waist exaggerating them but not so much as to look ridiculous.
"You must come now," the girl said.
I went to the closet and picked out shoes number twenty; they were deep blue in color with only a slight heel. They fitted perfectly.
I followed the girl downstairs and into a large room.
Hassan sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his guests. Every single jaw in the place dropped as they took me in.
"Is she not a jewel beyond measure?" Hassan said and beckoned me to move over to him.
"She is indeed. I wish all my girls were like her," a fat, disgusting man, about fifty, said.
"I'm sure you do, Osman. But this is one jewel you will not touch," Hassan said.
I walked over to Hassan, and he pointed to a wine jug.
"Serve us, please," he said.
I picked up the jug and did so.
The evening went on with me being just a waitress, and the object of many lewd jokes, judging by the laughter.
At the end of it, the others went away, leaving just me and Hassan alone.
"Be glad Osman Rahmani did not buy you," Hassan said.
"Why?"
"He is an evil but powerful man. He was boasting that he had gouged a girl's eye out with a hot iron because she disobeyed him," he said.
I shuddered at the thought. Poor girl, my heart goes out to her.
"Sit a while, and let us talk," Hassan said.
We talked about many things. He outlined his promise that he would not touch me unless I wanted it. I was, however, to serve at his table whenever he wanted. I was also responsible for discipline between the other girls and would be expected to keep them in order. That explained why my 'maid' was so scared.
He outlined his family history to me. His family had always lived here, and before his parents died, they had hoped that he would find a wife soon. Oh God, Kat, he means me. Hassan also stated that it was forbidden to talk about my past, only our future.
"It is time you went to bed; we have more guests tomorrow."
My maid took me upstairs, and my head was in a whirl. How can I escape, and how long before I succumb to Hassan's charm?
As each day passed, I saw in my mind's eye my husband slowly changing into HER. I felt bitter and powerless to help. Come on, hubby, fight it, I thought each day as the time drew near when he would become HER forever.
I was not allowed near the other girls in normal day-to-day life. I had to deal with a few disputes between girls, but they were only minor matters.
A month after my capture, I felt a pit of despair in my stomach. By now, there would be two Elizabeth Bexleys, one my sweet, the other a demoness from hell. I must get out. I must find out my love's fate.
The same pattern of serving tables and talks afterwards repeated itself for a couple of months when Hassan came to visit me.This was a first, as he had always called me and had never come to visit.
"Come, my Jewel, we have some shopping to do," he said.
He took my hand, and we went to his waiting limousine.
F+2 months.. | 4 |
18,340 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'Now do you want to tell me why you keep calling this lady, John?' I said.
Cathline outlined everything (missing out the really hot bits I might add). How she thought that Jennifer was doing this to spite them. How she thought it could have something to do with Project 2322 and what else could they expect to happen.
'First things first. I think you should both join me in the pool while I have a think,' I said.
'But we've no costumes with us,' John said.
'That's OK. You can skinny dip if you like.'
'I'm game, if you are,' said Cathline, and she gave me a knowing look.
'I'm not sure,' John said.
'Look here John, or is it Jane, You've nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times and since you cannot corrupt someone who is already 'evil and corrupt'. I don't see that it makes the difference. Come on, live a little. All my servants are gone for the evening so we are completely alone,' I said.
'And besides, you have been eyeing me up since you got here,' I added.
'OK, what have I got to lose?' he said.
As Cathline stripped off revealing her comely form (how I had missed that, this past few weeks), John did the same. He really did look a funny sight. Just like dear Kat, but with no tits or pussy. His male organ hung down, looking very lost on his curvy form.
'The sweater didn't do you justice,' I said to John.
'That's your opinion,' he retorted.
We swam around for a while until Cathline dunked my head under water in a playful fashion. As I swam up, I allowed myself a quick stroke up her thigh. Her shiver that followed was not because of the cold. I chased after her in the pool, easily out swimming her and began to dunk her in the same way.
'That's no way to treat my wife,' I heard John say as he swam over and tried to dunk me. Being taller and stronger than him, he had no chance. I 'accidentally' brushed my leg over his cock, and looking down at the once limp organ expand, I knew that he was getting turned on.
I got out of the pool and ran swiftly to the other side to avoid my water-bound pursuers.
Just as I was about to dive in, I heard a yelp from John. 'My God! My God! My God!' he was saying.
Cathline pulled him over to one side and shouted, 'Look Liz!'
I stared at his chest. His nipples did seem a little larger than before, and I could see the beginnings of breasts beginning to form on his chest. Well timed, Cath, I thought. His hands were clutching at his ever swelling bosom, whilst his face looked down in disbelief. We pulled him out of the pool, noticing that his chest now sprouted two, proud and firm female breasts. His nipples were erect from arousal rather than the cold.
Cathline put her hand to one of her husband's 'assets' and stroked a nipple. This was a moment between wife and wife, I guess. His response was 'Hmmmm. That's very nice!' and he reached up and planted a kiss firmly on the teat of her nipple.
I coughed, not wanting to be left out in all this.
'That was incredible,' I said.
My words fell on deaf ears as the couple continued their passionate session. I had noticed her hand stroking his breasts in the same way as she did mine. I was surprised that he did not react in a stronger way to suddenly growing breasts, but I suspect that my gray powder was the reason behind it. Her hand was stroking his cock and the other, his breasts. He was almost inactive, his face red with pleasure. He was either resting or overwhelmed at the sensations he could now feel.
'Is he all right?' I said a little louder.
Again my only answer was increased passion from the couple. He had woken up from his earlier 'trance' and was gently touching her around her clitoris. She began to moan softly as his finger went inside her. I had had enough of this and decided to join in. If you can't beat them, join them.
John's face looked startled to feel another pair of hands begin to stroke him. Cathline's response was to say, 'come on in.'
I stripped off my costume and saw with some pleasure that John's eyes were wide, ogling my long legs, curved, perfectly muscled body, and full, but let me assure you, very firm breasts.
Cathline made room for me, and I was soon made to feel welcome as a hand (I think it was John's!) stroked my thigh. I began to respond, touching him in kind. I couldn't help but note down the finer details of Kat's body, knowing that I must become familiar with every part of it. Cathline was feeling left out and so said 'John, what do you say we pay the hostess back for her hospitality?'
'Agreed,' he panted. With the combined strength of two of them, I had no chance as they rolled me onto my back. Cathline pinned my arms, her breasts, just nudging my face. John's legs pinned mine, spread outwards revealing my pussy to the world. He began to kiss my torso and I became very much aroused.
I started to nibble Cathline's tits. I could feel myself getting very wet as John began to touch my clit. I moaned, louder and louder, as I felt his fingers go inside me. I tried to move my hands and legs, but they were held firm as my two lovers continued.
'Let's really thank her,' John said.
I saw John begin to move into a more upright position, his new breasts tauntingly out of reach. I could see from the way he was going to move that he wanted to fuck me. Why do men always want to penetrate so quickly?
Still, in a few weeks he'd have to learn differently. I was so moist that he slipped inside with almost no fuss and, ohhhh! It had been too long since a man had had me. Cathline was now touching, stroking and caressing John's face, body and breasts, and he was kissing her as well. He began to move inside me, his now fully erect dick rubbing against my clit.
Suddenly my hand was free and Cathline's pussy was exposed. I touched its moist warm clit and she almost jumped. 'Ratbag!' She teased, and with her spare hand began to caress my breasts again.
John was now thrusting with all his might. His womanly voice moaning 'yes!' ever louder. Once again we were in concert. When this was all over, I would have to arrange for another threesome with someone else! All three of us reached orgasm together, our bodies shaking and flushed with the waves of pleasure. The warm, wet feeling inside me told me that John had just come, and he collapsed on top of me, too spent to move. Cathline and I continued for a while, and I offered to give her a good licking but she was too exhausted. Not enough time in the gym, Cathline.
We lay there cuddling, almost asleep for some time. I could hear the soft moans of John as his orgasm continued for some time. Well, I expected that.
'Hmm, I must go and clean myself up,' John said and he got up, looked down and screamed loudly.
As planned, his dick had been replaced by a vagina. He was now all woman. The powder had obviously worn off because he broke down into tears, sobbing quietly to himself. Cathline played the concerned wife beautifully, whispering consoling words into his ears.
'I'll go and get dressed,' I said. But first I jumped naked into the pool to wash off all that remained of John. Getting out of the other side of the pool, I ran into the house.
I chose my normal attire around the house, tight cycling shorts with a T-shirt (if you've got it, flaunt it) and went back downstairs.
John was still upset, but he seemed a little better.
'Listen, I need to work on a cure for this,' I said. 'How about I shout you a holiday where you can get away for a while, come to terms with the changes and all that.'
John looked at me with tearful eyes. 'Why did you do it?'
'Do what?' He couldn't have known, could he?
'Make love to me, us. I never thought of you like that and certainly not Cathline.'
'I don't know. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I'm lonely living up here on my own or maybe I just enjoy girls' company.'
'I have misjudged you Dr Bexley. You have been very kind to us, given everything you have to help us, and we would love to go on holiday,' John said.
'Excellent.'
'But what about passports and all the papers John will need?' Cathline asked.
'Leave that to me. I'll arrange everything. Just provide me with some passport photos.'
'Liz, Thanks again,' Cathline said.
The day was getting on and I needed to spend the evening putting the finishing touches to my scheme. 'I'm sorry, but I want to get on this right away.'
'OK, Bye.' They both got dressed and left. Cathline was right.It was funny seeing John try to put on a bra, especially with real breasts this time.
I got an email a day or so later.
"Hi Lover,
"John is still finding it hard living as a woman. He keeps wanting to stand up to pee, and when he forgets, it just rubs it in. He has gone right off sex for the moment, but the month-long Middle East tour you booked for us has gone a long way to cheering him up. I still call him 'him' because inside, he still really is a man and still my husband.
"I still can't work out two things. Perhaps you will be able to fill me in later on.
"One. How did his dick change if I didn't give him any doses? I assume that you don't have any. Perhaps the effects of the drug are cumulative?
"Two. Why did we feel so sexy that day? John simply isn't interested at the moment. Why? Did you spike our drinks, you naughty girl?
"He is really looking forward to Egypt at the start and end of the tour, as am I. He also likes the name you 'chose' for him. Jane Norton it is. The passports and papers you got me really are very good and look very genuine. You'll have to tell me how you got them. On second thoughts, I don't really want to know.
"See you in a month or so, lover.
"Cathline."
Two days before I was due to leave, I cast my mind back to that fateful day so long ago. Did he really deserve the treatment I was about to give him? The answer was a firm YES. My stupid-sounding last words to him came back to me:
'You will marry me, you will marry me.'
How could I make him live those words? Although I enjoyed being with women, deep down I still preferred men. I could see no way that I could make him heed those words every day of his life. This upset me. Two or more years of planning, countless lives wrecked, and my new lover's destruction well on the way, and this one little thing caused the whole plan to be on very shaky ground indeed.
So I did what I usually did when I wanted to think clearly. I pushed myself to the limits of my physical stamina and ability. Through the haze and pain of physical exhaustion, the solution came to me.
I could just switch places with Kat. In that way, he would be married to me, but I didn't like this for a couple of reasons. One, I had no intention of remaining Kat forever, and two, there's no punishment in that for him. There had to be another way.
To marry someone is to become one with. For HIM to become one with me would be to BECOME me. There was still time. A quick trip to Rhamnus and my schedules should only be a day or so out.
The next day, still feeling a little tired, I took the trip to Rhamnus and set about re-doing his dosages, this time with my DNA. It didn't actually take that long because all I had to do was to remove Kat's sequences and replace it with my own. A day later and I was ready to go.
The flight over was uneventful, but pleasant. I had first thought of using Dad's new Lear jet, but this way was better. I could slip out of the country either as Kat or one of my other guises and not have to worry about any awkward questions. Now my timing was off by one day, but that was no real hardship. It would just mean I would have to change in one single go, rather than split it over a couple of days. All that time in the gym and the pool would pay dividends now.
I had to change before I met my contact. I didn't want to be seen in my natural shape. That would pose too many problems. Especially with Cathline and John hanging around Cairo for a week. The worst would have been to be seen by HIM and the real Kat, but they wouldn't arrive for another day. Plenty of time.
It's the bottom of the ninth and still all to play for..
The plane landed and I emerged into brilliant sunshine. Much to my relief, my bag wasn't lost, although all my important stuff was in my hand luggage. A tense moment came at customs when my bag was searched, but the pills aroused little suspicion. A doctor can have medicine with her, can't she?
I didn't really want to check in my hotel as me. A tall, auburn-haired lady goes in, a shorter, black-haired one comes out. Far too risky. Besides, my second set of false papers would ensure that everything checked out. A taxi took me to downtown Cairo, and I must admit to being nervous at the things to come. I had to lie low until night in case John and Cathline saw me, and in all the crowds, that was not a difficult task, apart from being one of the tallest women around.
When night came and the streets were quiet, I found a secluded spot in which to change. Quickly checking that I had the right pill, I took it. Hoping that it would work on me. Yuck! I could have made a mint-flavored one. I didn't have long to wait, and I sat down waiting for the changes to occur.
My whole body felt strange, but it was in the area of my legs that felt the weirdest. Under my jeans, I saw flesh begin to ripple and change as my legs shrank and reformed. Their shape was subtly different from my old legs, but nice enough, I suppose.
My arms were the next to go, and they changed shape in a similar way to my legs. Kat's hands were a little different from mine, but still, all was going to plan.
My head felt very woozy, and I had to shut my eyes. My long auburn hair pulled away from my shoulders and turned raven black. I could feel something going on in my face. So far, the change had been painless. I checked my watch hanging loosely around my new wrist. Just over five minutes gone...
Looking down at my breasts, I saw them begin to change shape. Kat's may be a little larger than mine, I guess, but, from what I had seen of John's, they were very nice.
The drug forced me to sleep for a few minutes as my body shape and hips reformed into those of Kat's. When I awoke, I got out my small makeup mirror. Fucking Amazing. Kat's green eyes and feline-like features looked back at me. Checking my watch, and fastening it up tight again, showed that it had taken 20 minutes for me to turn into Kat.
'Hello, Dear Kat,' I said in my new voice.
The world looked different from three inches smaller, but I hoped I'd get used to it. As I walked away and hailed a cab, a sudden wave of tiredness hit me. I would need my rest tonight.
I had room 117 in the Cairo Holiday Inn. I would have liked the Luxor or Hilton, but these were taken by my stooges. Anyway, the room was nice enough for a day or so. I crashed out and didn't wake until 11 am the next morning.
The next day was the 20th of July. Kat and HIM would be married that day. The thought of it made me bitter, but my new reflection in the mirror gave me comfort. Everything was going as planned.
A knock at the door, and a swarthy cop walked in. This was to be my contact.
'Are you Nemesis?' he asked in accented English.
'I am,' I said.
'What is your codeword?'
'Tyche, and yours?' I said.
'Hermes,' came the reply.
'Excellent, tell me of the preparations here.'
'The man with a girl who looks like you will be taken tonight. He will be drugged with the drug you sent us and then returned one day later,' he said slowly.
'And the girl with him? Jane Norton, now Stephens?' I asked.
'She will be taken when she next leaves her hotel. This is to be done after the man is returned. She is to be made to take the pill which you will give me,' the cop said, waiting for me to do so.
I reached into my bag and got out the required pill and gave it to him. 'Please continue.'
'She is then to be sold to the nearest Harem, and we can keep whatever she brings at the auction.'
'And their hotel room?' I asked.
'The recording devices are in place, Mistress Nemesis,' he replied.
'Excellent. Do you remember your other instructions?'
'Yes, a lady, whose photo you are to provide, is also to be taken and sold to another Harem in Libya. Again, we can keep whatever she raises. You have the photo?'
Again, I reached into my bag. Goodbye, Cathline. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but life's a bitch. Serves you right for trying to use me. I gave him the photo.
'And the lady with her, who also looks like me?'
'She will be given false leads on this lady's location until she can return home when you indicate,' the cop said.
That sorts John out as well. I just hope he survives the flight back.
'You realize the penalty for failure?' I asked.
'Yes, mistress. We will not fail. We of the guild have never failed.' And with that, he left.
I lay in bed, trying out my new body. Although I missed my proper body, this one had its compensations. The breasts were a little larger, which I enjoyed, and her green eyes were very sexy. As I stimulated my new cunt, I marveled at the new set of sensations that came with this new body. Kat's orgasms felt different from mine, less frantic, but just as intense.
The next day, a different man, this time a bellboy, was at my door.
'Nemesis?' he said.
We exchanged codewords as before.
'The man was taken and drugged last night and will be kept for another 15 hours. Here are the parcels you asked for.'
'Thank you. You remember what to do?'
'Yes, I will tell the police that I saw you put a parcel through a door. I will do this when you tell me.'
'What about the lady we sold to a Harem in Libya?'
'That was performed without a hitch. She made nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The Harem she was sold into was a cruel one. Her companion has been led to believe she is now in Syria, and then, after about three weeks, he will be led back to America.'
'Perfect, That will be all.'
The parcels contained photos of the wedding and how Kat now had her hair. Thankfully, my version was very similar and could easily be re-styled. The bugs in their room would ensure I would be kept updated on all the goings-on before I could make the switch.
Some time later and it was time for me to move. I put on a long flowing brown skirt (it would have been knee-length on the real me, but never mind).A white blouse came next (I think I'll keep her breasts, I thought). Taking the parcel with me, I went to the Luxor Hotel.
The room was easy to find, and the parcel was easy to put through the door. I could hear nothing from inside, but I knew from the bugs that the kidnap had gone well.
Now all I had to do was wait back at my hotel.
I felt euphoric at the recording of the conversation held between Kat and HIM. It was working. Everything was working just as I planned. His fevers, the genetic changes. His despair at his situation was just icing on the cake. Kat, to give her credit, was trying to help, but I'm afraid there was nothing she could do to combat my brilliance. I was glad I was getting rid of Kat, she's very resourceful but all her deductions would, alas, come too late.
Before I made the swap, I checked once more that everything was OK. I re-read my list again to ensure that I hadn't missed anything.
James/Jane:
Safely locked away. He cannot possibly link me with these events.
Cathline:
In A Harem by now. With no chance of escape.
My American Friends:
All Kitties. The surviving ones, if any, only know me by the name Deianeira. There is no chance of the calls being traced.
Vickie Turner:
She knows about all the projects at the lab. She could be a danger, but the device my 'friends' planted in the power regulators and halon tanks at the lab will sort her out. A nice clean blast, using Fuel Air Explosives, will produce a small tactical nuke size boom. Be careful, Vickie, I'm watching.
John:
Scooting around the Middle East, trying to find Cathline. I don't envy him trying to get this done in a culture where women are looked on as second rate. See 'Things to do later' list.
The Guild:
Knows me only as Nemesis and in Kat form. Even I couldn't stand up against the guild. So they will remain human. In any case, for them, reputation is everything and they would rather die than talk.
Kat:
About to be altered and sold into slavery in about 10 minutes. I think she will set a new record price when she is sold. This will keep the guild more than happy.
HIM:
Slowly but surely turning into me.
Things to do:
John
- Make sure 'John' is on the plane when HE thinks I am.
- Let him get hold of a certain tape recording.
- Ensure 'John' Collects Kat's luggage.
HIM
- I will make sure he visits my friendly Tattooist.
This will accomplish three things:
1. Humiliation for him.
2. Identification purposes for when I get my body back.
3. Prevents him using the equipment at Rhamnus, if he finds out about it.
- If he's as clever as I thought, then he will suss me out. I can then put my proposal to him. Expect him to do anything to try and get out of it.
- When he is asleep, program in fail-safe codes to ensure his compliance and my safety.
- Make sure he is on the verge of despair, and leave him plenty of time to be alone. This will speed up the process and make him blame himself for his lack of self-control.
Me
- Leave HIM on various pretexts. Let one be an argument.
- Arrange 'to do' list when away from him.
- Switch with the real Kat.
- Ensure I change face and identity before leaving Egypt.
- Make Cassette recording of my final conversation to ensure HIS compliance.
- Switch last pill with a fixer pill.
- Get out some more gray powder.
- Keep up to date on all the above.
- Remember to give HIM airline tickets and passport in the name of Dr Elizabeth Bexley.
- When I return, I may have to disappear for a while. I like my house, but I mustn't return there as me if it's not safe to do so. Maybe I'll become a supermodel and buy it back in a year or so. New Zealand sounds nice in the meantime. An island would be nicer though.
I thought that was all. From now on I would have to roll with the punches. The phone rang. I answered, 'Hello?'
'Hello, Nemesis. This is Hermes. We have the Kat you asked for. She has been given the drug and she is going to be sold tomorrow. I will leave her clothes and jewelry at the reception desk. All other plans are in place.'
'Excellent. Keep her safe, and don't be surprised if she looks different in the light of day.'
That was it all done. I took Kat's clothes from reception and went back upstairs. I must admit to having a little cry when I saw Kat's wedding ring on my finger. 'Come on Liz, no time for sentimentality,' I said softly. I put on Kat's other clothes and left the hotel.
I was silent in the cab to the Luxor hotel. The taxi driver tried to talk to me in broken English, but I was having none of it. He pulled up outside the Luxor hotel and I gave him a generous tip.
I cautiously knocked on the door. No reply. I took Kat's room key and went inside.
He was laying on the floor, obviously unconscious. He looked the same as I remembered him, maybe a little more muscular, but that would help my cause. His legs were certainly not the same as I remembered them, as they were long, shapely and very feminine. I looked down at my 'Kat' legs and then at his. I was a little jealous.
He slowly stirred and his eyes opened.
'What did you do? You took one, didn't you?' I said, looking very concerned.
'No, two,' and HE explained his (flawed) reasoning to me.
'You stupid idiot!' I shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation? That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.'
'What have I done?' He started to sob.
'How long?'
'About five hours.'
'Can I stay and watch?' I asked with a curious look. 'I've always wanted to see a body change.'
'You are sick!' was his bitter reply.
'No, just curious,' I said with a mischievous grin.
At that moment, he started to convulse and he lost consciousness again. Interesting how the body forces sleep to preserve energy.
Hang on a second, I thought, I can see ripples under his body. Yes, his body is changing. The sound of bones rearranging was horrible (did I sound like that when I got Kat's body?). His muscular torso was now changing, becoming tauter as his muscles and flesh reshaped to fit his new bone structure. I watched, fascinated, as curves formed, as did my firm, flat stomach. I noticed that his body was taking on the same shape as I had when I donated the DNA. Could be useful for an eternal youth drug maybe?
His body now very much resembled my old one, but my hand pressed to his chest showed that his internal organs were still changing. This meant that he should be out for a while. I took the opportunity to listen to the previous conversations between HIM and Kat that I had missed.
It sounded like I had got rid of Kat just in time. Another day or so and she may have rumbled me, smart girl.
He awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' He managed to say.
'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' I said.
I recalled some lines from a song I heard a long time ago.
'You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs. The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear, who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity, sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity.
'You who I directed with a lover's will, you who I let hypnotize the lens. You who I let bathe in the spotlight's glare. You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask, just like a greasepaint mask.
'But now I'm your snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past. I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun, it's just begun...' | 3 |
20,540 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'You may not recall the moment that you asked me
But your invitation was clear.
You'll pretend you've never met me, but It's far too late now I'm here.
Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you
I'm the one who loves you best
I'm the thirteenth at the table
I'm the Uninvited Guest
I'm the Banquo at your banquet,
I'm the cuckoo in your nest
I'm your fifteen stone first-footer
I'm the uninvited guest
I was there when you said insincere "I love you's" to a woman who wasn't your wife.
And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life.
Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you
I'm the one who loves you best
I'm the thirteenth at the table
I'm the Uninvited Guest
I'm the Banquo at your banquet,
I'm the cuckoo in your nest
I'm your new years resolution
I'm the uninvited guest
I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would.
I'm the one thing you knew you shouldn't do but did because you could.
I'm the evil in your bloodstream.
I'm the rash upon your skin.
And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in.
And you can fly to the other side of the world.
You know you'll only find.
I've reserved the seat behind you.
We can talk about old times...'
As the song ended Kat sat bolt upright and set the CD to repeat, after several more plays Kat saw it. What had just been an awful hunch was now reality. "My God what have we done!" Kat said out loud, her voice trembling with fear.
Kat reached into her purse and took out a phone number and dialed it. After the call Kat was more sure than ever but before she could explore it further there was a knock at the door.
"Hey, turn that down. You're getting obsessed by that song," Matthew said, walking into the room.
"Listen!" And Kat played the song once more.
"So?" Matthew queried.
"Don't you see it? It's so obvious now. Sure it's brilliant, her masterstroke," Kat exclaimed.
"I'm a little stupid today, explain it," Matthew asked.
"Get Robert and Cathline in here," Kat asked.
"What about Steph?" Matthew said.
"For fuck's sake, don't get Stephanie. Whatever you do, don't talk to her," Kat said sternly.
"Why?"
"Just get the rest and make sure Stephanie is out of the way," Kat said.
"If you say so," Matthew said and walked out.
"Stephanie, would you mind going to check to see how Liz got ashore. Maybe she's brought friends along. We're going to finish up here and ensure it's OK," Matthew said.
"OK, mind if I take Kitty Liz?" Stephanie said.
"Not at all, you're the only one she seems to like anyway," Matthew said.
"Be back in an hour or so," Stephanie said and walked off.
Matthew went down into the bunker to see a tearful Robert and grim looking Cathline, who was consoling Robert.
"Fixed as well?" Matthew asked.
"Yes," said a tearful Robert.
"The results of the test are very strange. The test confirms that the fixer has indeed been given to Robert. However, the fixer I'm familiar with just inhibits any future dose of the drug. This version seems to actively fight it. It makes it much, much more effective. What'd you want anyway?" Cathline said.
"Kat's gone all weird on me. She wants all of us to meet her in the entertainment room right away," Matthew said.
"I'll get Stephanie," Cathline said.
"No, she was most insistent that Stephanie was NOT invited. I've just sent her off to look see if Liz has brought any friends with her," Matthew said.
"Let's go and see what she wants," Robert said, and they walked out of the bunker.
"Excellent. I take it Stephanie is out of the way," Kat said.
"She'll be gone a couple of hours, now what the hell is this all about?" Matthew demanded.
"Shut the door and listen to this," Kat said and played the song again.
"I don't get it," Cathline said.
"Let me explain," And Kat skipped the appropriate point in the song.
"I was there when you said insincere 'I love you's' to a woman who wasn't your wife. And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life."
"So?" Matthew demanded.
"Listen. 'I was there when you said insincere 'I love you's' to a woman who wasn't your wife.' That's clearly John. Liz was involved in his seduction by employing Jennifer Porter."
"I'll give you that, Mind you it could have been me," Cathline said.
"And now. 'And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life.' That's Liz again. She fronted Cathline the money to go to Egypt which must rank as Cathline's biggest regret," Kat explained.
"Too right," Cathline agreed.
"Are you saying that Elizabeth is this 'uninvited guest' in the song?" Matthew said, puzzled.
"Yes, but it goes on. Listen to this bit." Kat forwarded the CD to the next part.
"'I'm your new years resolution
I'm the uninvited guest.
I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would.
I'm the one thing you knew you shouldn't do but did because you could.
I'm the evil in your bloodstream
I'm the rash upon your skin
And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in,'" Kat paused the song with a deft, triumphant flick of the remote.
"That fits, we always knew we would meet Liz again," Robert said.
"Since Liz's blood is in my veins and she got me tattooed, then I guess that last bit must be me," Matthew said sadly.
"Where's this leading?" Cathline asked.
"I didn't put this CD on. It was in the player already, this must mean that Liz put it there. I think she used this song to gloat over us and as to give her some ideas for her plans."
"That sounds just like Liz. Retreat here and have a good laugh over our efforts. Still, we won in the end," Cathline said.
"No, we haven't. Liz is still out there. I think that Liz is Stephanie Lane," Kat said, as though she were Miss Marple.
"WHAT!" Cathline exclaimed.
Matthew almost shouted in complete surprise "No way. If it wasn't for her we would have been nowhere."
"Before you call in the shrinks, listen to me. Only one other person was missing from the lab when it exploded, Stephanie Lane. Furthermore, she was the one who SUGGESTED we meet at the lab. Monica Abbey had left and was too obvious. Liz is subtle, not overt in planning. I now believe Robert when he says that Monica was just being Monica and refused to give a passcode," Kat said.
"Thank you. I haven't told anyone this for fear of reprisals. But I called Monica the night the lab blew up. She gave me the correct passcode," Robert interrupted.
"You did what, of all the..." Cathline started.
"If you will allow me to continue. Robert's confession here proves my point. Further clues are in the song 'I'm your new years resolution I'm the uninvited guest.' Who else was there when we made our new Year's resolution and who's the uninvited guest?" Kat said.
"Stephanie Lane was there. But wait a sec, she always gave the correct passcode," Cathline said.
"Which means she must have replaced Stephanie before we even met up again. I had another look at all those statues in the hall. Do you know what they have in common?" Kat said smugly.
"Greek Mythology?" Cathline answered.
"Yes, I think they are all codenames Liz has used. We know about one name she used 'Deianeira.' I remembered who she was. She dipped Hercules's shirt into some poison and killed him. Liz could easily see herself as Nemesis, and Rachel Martin has been compared to Helen of Troy. The only one that didn't fit was Pandora, and that, ladies and transformed ladies, was Stephanie Lane's passcode," Kat said triumphantly.
"Well, I'll be," Robert started.
"And that's not all. In order to try and prove my theory further, I tried to find something simple that the 'Hell Bitch' could easily miss. Cathline, how did Liz take her coffee?"
"Umm, black without, I think," Cathline answered.
"And Stephanie Lane takes her coffee?"
"Umm, the same?" Robert asked.
"So they share the same taste in coffee," Cathline said.
"I've phoned Stephanie's work. They were curious as to why I wanted to know how she took her coffee. I told them I was doing some market research for various companies."They then told me Stephanie Lane liked her coffee white with a single sugar. However, recently she's been having it black without. I also asked them if Stephanie Lane had missed any internal flights recently and was she unhappy with the service. They answered that the only internal flight Stephanie had caught was on time, and she flew out after a morning meeting. If you remember, Stephanie stated that she had missed a flight because of a meeting and had to catch a later one. In other words, she lied about when she flew out to meet us. She would have had ample time to set off the explosives at the lab and wreck our cars," Kat said.
"Kat, this all sounds very convincing. You're telling us that you worked all this out just now, from this one song," Cathline said skeptically.
"No, I'd been suspicious for some time. It seemed so right that Liz was Monica, but somehow it didn't FEEL right. As I've said before, it was TOO obvious. Liz is too good to make it that clear. I've been working things out bit by bit, afraid to say anything in case it alerted Stephanie. It didn't all click into place until I heard this part of the song:
'And you can fly to the other side of the world
You know you'll only find
I've reserved the seat behind you
We can talk about old times...'
Who sat behind Matthew on the flight over? Easy, Cathline and Stephanie," Kat announced.
"Still sounds suspicious to me," Cathline said.
"I think it makes perfect sense. As Stephanie, she could keep an eye on us and steer us in whatever direction she wanted. As our greatest resource, she could bring about our downfall," Kat said.
"This is all circumstantial evidence. It fits, but only because you've made it fit," Robert said.
"I've thought of that. What do you say we lure Stephanie to the bunker, tie her up, and then confront her as though she were Liz? Make out that we know all about it and try to get her to admit it. If she's not Liz, then fair enough, I'm wrong. Otherwise, we have her," Kat said.
"Sounds good to me," Matthew said.
"It's the only way to be sure!" Robert said.
"Right, Mat, you go get Stephanie and tell her Cathline's managed to activate the DNA system and we need her in the bunker. The rest of us will lay in wait," Kat directed.
It took Matthew an hour to find Stephanie. She was sitting on a rock looking out to sea.
"Hi, Steph," Matthew said.
"Hi, what's happening?"
"I've been asked to tell you that Cathline has managed to activate the DNA system. She wants you to come and help."
Stephanie gave a surprised look. "Really? I thought the security systems were too good."
"Apparently not. Race you back," Matthew said and sprinted off.
They arrived, breathless, at the bunker. Matthew had ensured that Stephanie won and went down the bunker first.
With a shriek, the rest of the group fell upon Stephanie. Overpowered by so many, she had no chance. They bound her hand and foot to a chair near the console. Stephanie was screaming, "What the fuck are you doing?" but soon stopped when Kat said, "Hello 'Hell Bitch', nice to meet you at last."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Dr. Bexley's gone," Stephanie screamed.
"I must say, it was a very, very clever move switching with Stephanie Lane," Kat said.
"I'm Stephanie Lane. Kat, what are you playing at? Let me go," Stephanie said.
"Listen, 'hell bitch', we know all about it. The statues in the hall, how you used a song to base some of your plans on, and how you wanted us to believe that we had turned you into a cat. Don't fuck with me, I'm not in the mood," Kat snarled.
An evil smile spread across Stephanie's face. "What a clever little kitty Kat you are. I was right not to underestimate you." | 4 |
21,109 | The Night Before Christmas | 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a single other thing about the familiar poem was true, he thought wryly as he shuffled about in the attic. Several creatures were stirring, namely the three cats who called 143 Piermont St. home, and that alone made it unlikely there would be a mouse anywhere within several hundred yards of the place.
They were her cats, actually, for they had come to the trash out back in search of a meal, and she had discovered, befriended, and finally adopted them, each in their turn. He didn't care, and had come to love them because he loved her and she loved them. He even took over the daily cat box chore, one distasteful concession to the efficient running of the household.
This was another. The attic. She rarely ventured there, but occasionally directed him to fetch or store something up in that dreary place. Then it was his task to carry the bulky boxes up and down the rickety pine ladder that not too gracefully descended from the ceiling above. It was an irregular sort of job except around this time of year, when the Christmas decorations had to come down and the empty boxes had to go back up, and then again when the empty boxes had to reappear, be repacked and carried back up to sit amid the dust for another 11 months.
And while he hated most of his duties, this one he relished. Christmas decorations. The holiday always meant so much to him, ever since he could remember coming downstairs on Christmas morning, wide-eyed at the pile of presents that Santa brought. His family was Christian, which meant he was too, but he wasn't really. He'd given up religion just a few years after he found out there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy, and he never went inside a church again unless a friend or relative was getting married.
She wasn't Christian either; she was Jewish, except she wasn't. Her family was, but like him, she'd given up religion early, going to Hebrew school just to mollify her parents, attending religious camp in the summers because it was an escape. Their conflict in religion was no conflict at all, really, except in late December.
The first Christmas together was awkward, but only because both sets of parents insisted that the freshly married couple come to visit *them* for the holidays. In the end, the newlyweds stayed at home and had a private celebration all to themselves. And that was when and where they started their own Christmas Eve tradition.
It was Christmas Eve morning, a funny sort of contradiction, he thought as he punched in at work and surreptitiously slipped out the back. The presents were already purchased, but he'd decided the night before (Christmas Eve Eve he figured it would be called) to put together one last surprise for her, and he ran to the corner lot where they were selling trees and picked out a nice blue spruce from what was left, then stopped at the local discount store to buy some decorations and lights. The rest of the day he spent alone, setting up the little fir, stringing the flickering lights, hanging the glass balls, delicately placing the tinsel strand by strand over the erect needles on the small tree's outstretched branches.
When she came home, he watched as her ruddy cheeks flushed with surprise and her pupils widened with awe, and he grinned as he saw her blue eyes flash and moisten in emotional response.
"You like?" he asked rhetorically.
"Ummm," she mumbled, her gaze darting from the tree to the garland on the mantel and back. "Christmas..."
"Yeah, well..."
"I never had Christmas. All my friends had Christmas, and I always wanted Christmas, but we were the only Jewish family on the block. And, of course, I was like, six years old or something, so I didn't understand, but I asked my Mother why Santa Claus went to everyone else's house but not to our house."
A tear fell.
"And she tried to explain it, but she couldn't, and anyway...." her voice trailed off.
"So you had Hanukkah."
"Not the same. Not to a six-year-old. I mean, yeah, sure, we had Hanukkah. I even have a Menorah someplace."
"Get it."
"What, the Menorah?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Really."
And she did, and they made a place on the mantel for it, and even though Hanukkah had come and gone a week earlier, they lit the candles and she sang aloud as the hint of burning wax mingled with the evergreen-tinted air:
"Baruch ata adonoy, elohanu melech ha olam.."
"What does it mean?" he asked.
"I don't really remember," she answered quickly. "I think it's 'bless you Lord as we light these candles', or something..."
And they were in love, and she leaned against him on the couch and tried to teach him the song, and he held her as she gazed at the tree, and it was a most remarkable Christmas Eve. When at last he turned out the lights and they went upstairs to the bedroom, they made love, a gentle Christmas Eve mating, and they held each other softly as they enjoyed each other.
There was no doubt, no discussion that the next year they would have a tree and Christmas and Hanukkah. But he vowed to surprise her, and he thought to set up the tree in the bedroom instead of the dining room so when she came home she would find that there was *no* tree, and then there *was* a tree after all.
Again he stayed home from work and spent the day setting up the wintry scene, and it *was* a surprise and she was delighted and he beamed. Even though later they both agreed that the tree belonged downstairs rather than hidden up in the bedroom. But it did cast a soft light on the couple as they made love on a second Christmas Eve, the act reflected a hundred times in the dozens of colored glass balls. And they fell asleep, locked in each other's arms on another holiday night.
And every year after he would stay home and turn the house into a winter magicland, each time more resplendent with more lights, more decorations, more tinsel. And every year she pretended to be surprised and he loved her for it. He learned the Hanukkah song, she sang Christmas carols, and they made love.
Fourteen years makes for a nice tradition, he thought as he busied himself untangling the strings of colored lights and opening the boxes of ornaments to see if any had broken during their long stay upstairs in the darkness. Fourteen years! He reminisced about that one time, was it 5 or 6 years ago? when he'd snuck out of work several days before Christmas Eve and set everything up. And she *had* been surprised, since the surprise was always "supposed" to be on Christmas Eve, but his feelings were a little hurt when she said it was more fun when the "surprise" happened on Christmas Eve, even if it wasn't really a surprise anymore. She was right, of course, and they had Christmas Eve on Christmas Eve each year after that.
For the next few hours, he set up the tree, unwound the lights, hung the ornaments, and hummed quietly to himself. "Hurry, hurry" he thought. "It's almost 6:00." He didn't think about the previous Christmas when he'd also been running late. That year - last year - he hadn't finished everything until almost 7:30, and she should have been home a half-hour before that.
But finish he did, and he turned out all the lights and sat in his comfortable chair in the living room to await her arrival. He heard the car turn into the driveway, crunching through the gravel as if to announce its entrance, and he barely noticed the odd blue twinkle as he turned on the tree lights in the darkness of the room.
It took her longer than usual to come up the steps, and as he walked across the room to greet her, he saw that the light outside wasn't twinkling, it was flashing, and it didn't register. And then the doorbell rang, and he opened it, and he saw the two men standing uncomfortably in their blue uniforms.
All he could remember was the pulsing blue light on their car and a few bits and pieces of what they said: "...accident"..."truck"..."brakes"..."fire"... and it didn't register. It couldn't. This was Christmas Eve, and she was coming home any minute.
She never did, of course, and the days and weeks that followed were a blur.The house was quiet, even though his friends visited frequently and were as helpful as could be, and his phone rang more often as both sets of parents grew closer to him and called, and his boss was terrific and told him to take his time coming back if he wanted, and everybody tried as hard as they could.
Much too slowly, the first days became a week, and a little faster, the weeks turned into a month, and then more rapidly, the months became seasons, and it was already Christmas Eve again.
"Hurry, hurry," he thought. "It's getting late." He hung the final ball and adjusted the last hanging ornament, and it was done.
The first thing he noticed as he entered the garage was the dirt and dust on the car. It had been washed just a few days ago, but he hadn't been careful earlier that morning; it hadn't seemed important. Now his eyes focused on the bent and twisted aluminum ducts that just hours before had carried warm air to the bedroom above. His first chore on this Christmas Eve had been to pull the gray metal boxes from their hangers and rip the grates from the floor overhead, and now there were large holes where the tarnished brass registers belonged. He craned his neck as he gazed through the openings into the darkened bedroom that sat directly atop the garage.
Satisfied with his work, he leaned into the vehicle and twisted the key that sat in the ignition and listened as the engine roared to life. "A full tank," he noted, enough to keep it idling for hours and hours, maybe all the way through Christmas day.
The door clicked firmly as he pulled it closed behind him, leaving the garage. He strode purposefully through the kitchen, down the carpeted hallway, up the stairs and into the bedroom. He closed that door, too; and then he curled up in the bed, thinking of her, and he went to sleep. | 5 |
24,344 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'Kat' or should I say 'Jas' looks like your luck is about to change.
The door opened, and in walked, how shall we put this, an Adonis. He was tall with deep brown eyes, and not a muscle (and there were plenty of them) was out of place.
"I see that my money was not wasted. Come, my princess," Adonis gestured for me to follow.
This I did, wondering if I was right not to resist. In spite of all this man's charm, I was married to the man I loved. If I was ever to see him again, I must gain this man's trust. I followed him outside and into a large white limousine. He gave me a glass of champagne and said, "You are the most beautiful of all my women. No man shall have you except me; you will serve no man except me. All my riches are as nothing to your beauty."
I couldn't help but feel a glow of pleasure being complimented in this way. I guess I must call him master or something.
"Thank you, master."
"I am not your master. How could anyone lay claim to such beauty? You may call me Hassan, and you will be at my side, always. I will not have you unless you consent, for that would corrupt your beauty. You are my precious rose, there to look at and admire, not to pluck with a harsh hand. I have waited many years for a chief girl, and I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one," he said with such a gentle look on his face that my heart was beginning to melt.
"Thank you, Hassan. I will remember your promise to me," I said.
We sipped champagne in silence as the limousine drew up outside a large walled palace. Guards opened the large steel gates, and we drew into a wonderful courtyard. A fountain was in the center, and all around was the sweet smell of flowers.
The door was opened for me by a butler, and I got out and stared around.
"Welcome to your new home, my love," Adonis said.
Hmm, I could stay here for a while, I thought. Hassan gestured for me to follow him, which I did. We went past large rooms where the whisper of female voices could be heard through closed doors.
"You are too precious to stay with my other women," Hassan said.
We went to a large winding staircase, and we climbed. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, we reached the top. Hassan opened the door, and I went in.
The room was one can only describe as palatial. Easily as large as my house at home, it had a four-poster bed with ornate silk covers. The room was littered with flowers, and a carpet of fresh rose petals lay under my feet.
"It's fantastic," I gasped.
"If you need anything, you can have it," Hassan said, and with that, he left.
Alone for the first time since the auction, I explored the room. Behind a silk curtain was a walk-in closet with every kind of outfit. From an elegant designer ball gown to some sports kit. Kat, my girl, you really landed on your feet here. I mustn't lose sight of my true goal. A cage is still a cage, no matter how elaborate the bars.
In one corner was a sunken bath full of warm white liquid. I dipped a finger in. It tasted like milk. I'd read about Cleopatra bathing in asses' milk and had always wanted to give it a go. I took off my Jasmine outfit and looked down at my new body. My situation had so overpowered me that I had forgotten who I now looked like. Jane Stephens was no more, at least in body.
I dipped a brown, slender leg into the bath. Ummm, that felt good. I put my other leg in and sank in. Oww, I'd just sat on my hair. I'd forgotten it was that long. I stretched out and relaxed for the first time in ages. It didn't bother me as much as I thought, having my body changed like this. Sure, I'd want my proper form back, but this was nothing compared to how HE is changing.
Oh God, what's happening to me? I've become intoxicated with this place. I'm beginning to forget. This place is like the Elysian Fields; once here, you forget your past. Hassan does not need bars and armed guards to keep his women here; he seduces them with words and milk baths, and soon they forget their past. This I will not do. Hold on, my sweet, I'll be back soon; this I vow.
After spending an hour in the bath, I got up and dried myself off. Hmm, being Jasmine's not so bad, but I've yet to meet someone who will recognize me as her.
I put on an ornate silk dressing gown and, tired from the events of the day, slept.
A knock at the door awoke me at, I guess, around 11 am.
"Come in," I shouted.
At the door was another girl, this time dressed in what I would call traditional harem costume. She was smaller than me at 5'4", large-breasted, and looking very scared.
"The master requests your attendance at his conference now," she said.
"What shall I wear?" I asked.
"The master asks that you wear dress five from your collection and shoes number twenty," she said, still in fear of me. Why?
I went over to the closet and saw each hanger had a number. I saw a beautiful blue saffron dress that seemed to shimmer in the light. I put it on and looked in the nearby mirror. I'm still not used to my new reflection, but I will admit the old me could never carry off that outfit the way I could now. My hair was a mess, though. I went over to the dressing table and went to pick up an ivory hairbrush.
"Mistress, you are not allowed; let me," the lady said.
"Okay, thanks," I said as I gave her the hairbrush.
I sat down, reveling in the feeling of having my hair brushed in such a sensuous way. Remember, Kat, Elysian Fields, hold on to your promise.
"I have done, mistress," the girl said.
I stood up and looked in the mirror in awe of the image there. No one I had ever seen had ever portrayed such an air of grace and majesty as I now did. A beautiful Arabian princess stared back at me, her arms moved up to her face in time with mine. The blue dress showed every curve, my tiny waist exaggerated them but not so much as to look ridiculous.
"You must come now," the girl said.
I went to the closet and picked out shoes number twenty; they were deep blue in color with only a slight heel. They fitted perfectly.
I followed the girl downstairs and into a large room.
Hassan sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his guests. Every single jaw in the place dropped as they took me in.
"Is she not a jewel beyond measure?" Hassan said and beckoned me to move over to him.
"She is indeed. I wish all my girls were like her," a fat, disgusting man, about fifty, said.
"I'm sure you do, Osman. But this is one jewel you will not touch," Hassan said.
I walked over to Hassan, and he pointed to a wine jug.
"Serve us, please," he said.
I picked up the jug and did so.
The evening went on with me being just a waitress and the object of many lewd jokes, judging by the laughter.
At the end of it, the others went away, leaving just me and Hassan alone.
"Be glad Osman Rahmani did not buy you," Hassan said.
"Why?"
"He is an evil but powerful man. He was boasting that he had gouged a girl's eye out with a hot iron because she disobeyed him," he said.
I shuddered at the thought. Poor girl, my heart goes out to her.
"Sit a while, and let us talk," Hassan said.
We talked about many things. He outlined his promise that he would not touch me unless I wanted it. I was, however, to serve at his table whenever he wanted. I was also responsible for discipline between the other girls and would be expected to keep them in order. That explained why my 'maid' was so scared.
He outlined his family history to me. His family had always lived here, and before his parents died, they had hoped that he would find a wife soon. Oh God, Kat, he means me. Hassan also stated that it was forbidden to talk about my past, only our future.
"It is time you went to bed; we have more guests tomorrow."
My maid took me upstairs, and my head was in a whirl. How can I escape, and how long before I succumb to Hassan's charm?
As each day passed, I saw in my mind's eye my husband slowly changing into HER. I felt bitter and powerless to help. Come on, hubby, fight it, I thought each day as the time drew near when he would become HER forever.
I was not allowed near the other girls in normal day-to-day life. I had to deal with a few disputes between girls, but they were only minor matters.
A month after my capture, I felt a pit of despair in my stomach. By now, there would be two Elizabeth Bexleys, one my sweet, the other a demoness from hell. I must get out. I must find out my love's fate.
The same pattern of serving tables and talks afterwards repeated itself for a couple of months when Hassan came to visit me.This was a first, as he had always called me and had never come to visit.
"Come, my Jewel, we have some shopping to do," he said.
He took my hand, and we went to his waiting limousine.
F+2 months.. | 4 |
27,261 | Birth Of Nemesis | 'Let him see the other side of the fence, make him understand how a woman feels. From the inside,' I said with a glint of devilment in my eyes.
'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, that is the most horrible thing I've ever heard,' Cathline said, but her blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
'I think everything is in place. It's about time we had a human test, don't you think?' she added.
'I think so. But I'll agree on one condition only.'
'That being?'
'He only stays like it for two or three months.'
'Why? We could "fix" him. Really teach him a lesson,' I countered.
'No, I still love him and don't want to lose him forever,' she said.
'Fine, who do you want him to be? I'm sure we can get samples from anywhere,' I asked.
'What about being Jennifer for a while?' She said.
'Perfect. But I have one other condition. You must keep a diary of everything that happens so we can be sure everything has worked out all right,' I said.
'Agreed. You have Jennifer's DNA already?'
'Yes, As you know, all my employees had to give an AIDS test,' I said.
'Now we are both agreed, do you want to work out the details yourself, let me do it, or let us both plan?' I asked.
'You obviously have a wicked streak and I want to have a say, so let's meet up after work. Say about eight?' Cathline said.
'Eight it is, at my place,' I said.
I had invested some of my money in a mansion, just for me. It had all the usual things associated with such a place, but it was the gym, pool, and sauna that made it special. It also had a small lab which would do any research place proud. The best thing about it, however, was its location, remote but on a hillside overlooking a beautiful wooded valley. I had held several parties for my staff there, and the servants I employed there always did a fine job. Thinking about it, John, Cathline's husband, didn't seem to like me for some reason. Oh well, he would soon have even less to like me for.
'See you later and get back to work,' I grinned. Stage 1 was now underway.
Cathline came round at eight exactly, wearing what I would call a revealing outfit. Although she was somewhat shorter than me, at five-seven, her body was well-proportioned. She looked a bit like my ex-fiancee's wife-to-be. She didn't seem to have Kat's panther-like movements, but otherwise, she was a close match. Anyway, Cathline was no bitch. She was one of us.
'Who are you dating after you have seen me?' I asked.
She looked down at her short lycra skirt and halter top and said, 'No-one, but the first rule of business is to dress to impress,' she said.
'I'm impressed. Now down to work,' I said.
'I've been thinking about our plan,' she said.
'Yes?'
'I don't really want him to be Jennifer anymore,' she said.
My heart began to sink. 'Please don't get cold feet.'
'No, I want him to be someone I don't know. If I saw him as her, it would rub in what he did to me, for destroying my trust in him,' she said bitterly.
'Do you want me to handle that part? I know of a few ways to get DNA without the subject knowing. It would also have to be someone not local, as that would raise too many questions,' I asked.
This was getting better all the time. I had just the person in mind - Kat! I would need some of her DNA for my plan anyway. This way, I could have an exact test in a controlled environment. It shouldn't take very long to get it anyway. But I won't tell Cathline who or why I choose her.
'Seems logical,' she said. Cathline moved closer to me, her legs occasionally touching mine. Was this a come-on?
'So I can choose?' I asked.
'Yep,' She agreed.
'Now I think that a normal human body will die if subjected to too much change, too quickly,' I said. 'It must be given time to recover.'
'You're the doc,' Cathline said. Her hand momentarily touched my knee. What next?
'I think a day between changes should be enough, and maybe spread the doses over 10 days,' I added.
'How will the doses be administered?' Cathline asked. This time her hand stayed on my knee. Should I brush it away?
'The injection method is fine in a laboratory, but we could use the new powdered form we have been experimenting with. This means you can give it to him any time and any how you like,' I said. The hand was resting lightly on my thigh now!
'Once he starts to change, won't he be suspicious of me?' She asked.
I had expected this question and again I mentally checked off another part of my plan. Her hand was still there. Did I detect a small stroke just then??? Did I want to stop this??
'Maybe I can tailor that narcotic you were working on before I joined. Make him lust after the thing you first put it in. I dunno, put it in his coffee or something. Then he will want coffee to relieve his cravings. You can then slip it into his coffee whenever you like,' I told her.
'Speaking of lust,' Cathline said.
Before I had a chance to answer, she had pressed her moist lips onto mine and, to my surprise, I responded. I wouldn't regard myself as a lesbian or even a little bi, but something in her kiss lit my fire. Her hand stroked my leg, moving ever closer to my fanny. The sensations were unique. Part of me wanted to push her away, the other *have* her. She was supposed to be the very 'proper' Cathline, but the hands reaching up to unbutton my blouse were not doing the 'proper' thing at all.
Before I could do much else, a skillful hand had undone my bra and was stroking my smooth, firm breasts. I felt flushed as my arousal grew. I began to respond in kind, stroking her firm bosom over her halter top. Her nipples grew as she became aroused, and from the fire that I felt inside, I knew that mine had just done the same. The lust began to grow, and before I knew or could control it, I had removed her skimpy top, exposing her heaving chest.
'Wait...' I panted.
'What? You don't like this?' she asked.
'YES, but we don't want to be disturbed, do we?' I said.
Still not really believing what I was doing/about to do, I phoned the butler and told him dinner would be late, and that Cathline and I were not to be disturbed under *any* circumstances.
'Now where were we?' Cathline said seductively.
'About here,' I said as I held her close. Our breasts heaving together as we resumed our passionate embrace.
'Lay down,' she said, and I did so.
Her tongue was caressing my body. It fondled my earlobes, then my neck and finally my by now very erect nipples. I began to moan, 'Yes, yes.' Electricity shot through me as her hand *finally*, but all too briefly, touched my pussy. I groped for the zip that held her skirt on and freed her of that article of clothing as she began to stroke my long, shapely legs again.
'About time I released you,' she crooned as my skirt was also removed.
She stroked the curve of my waist, and I did the same, feeling her smooth, unblemished skin. How different this was from making love to a man! So unhurried, so understanding, so gentle and so ummmmm.
'How about a 69?' she asked.
By this time, a forest fire of passion and pleasure was burning within me, and I agreed instantly.
We swapped sides to form the classic shape, and although I had done this with *him*, this was unique and special. I was on top, looking down at her moist, open and aroused fanny. I went to lick her hot, open and moist pussy, but she said 'Not yet, lover.'
She reached up, grasping the cheeks of my ass, and began to smother my pussy with kisses. I moaned even louder and began to sweat. As her hands stroked my thighs and her tongue very delicately began to caress the lips of my cunt, I wondered why I hadn't done this sooner. As I reached orgasm, I heard her pant, 'Now, lover.'
I bent down, laying flat over her, and began to caress her pussy too. She too began to moan louder, and soon we were in concert. The rhythm of our bodies, tongues and hands, adding the baseline to our sexual tune. I tasted her for the first time, her hot musk smell arousing me more than I had been for a long time. Hmm, women tasted so different. An exploratory caress with my tongue sent us both into overdrive. As I became more experienced, our pleasure grew.
This went on seemingly for hours. Each of us taking delight in each other's bodies and sensations.We both came together, something that had happened only a few times when I was with a man. As our volcanic pleasure died down and turned into a warm, satisfied glow, I really began to regret not doing this earlier.
As we lay beside each other, her hand still resting on my breast, my hand gently stroking her hip, she said, 'I had no idea...'
'Neither did I. I guess we both needed each other.'
It was now late and I knew we still had a lot of ground to cover.
'We have to get on, alas,' I said as I got up to get dressed. Cathline, her fun for the moment gone, did the same.
'Shame,' she grinned.
'My house has plenty of space, you could always spend the night,' I told her. Had I really just invited another woman to sleep with me? I guess I had, and I certainly had no regrets.
'We only need one room, but not tonight. What would people say if they knew I was sleeping with the boss?' Cathline said, grinning again.
'When do you want the package delivered?' I asked. 'I should be able to get the DNA within a few days. Say, make the doses during the following week,' I said, a bit disappointed.
'Fine, whatever you can do,' the lovely Cathline said.
'Let's call it a night,' I said. 'Sure you won't stay?' I asked.
'Hmm, very tempting, but no. I'll see you tomorrow.' With that, Cathline left.
My mind was in a whirl. Was I really falling for this woman or was she just some unforeseen side effect? I knew that I must keep the reason why her husband cheated on her a secret, otherwise all would be lost. I admit to feeling a little guilty for using her like that, especially as she wasn't as prim and proper as she wanted people to believe. Maybe one of the reasons she wanted this type of revenge was so that she could have her husband how she really liked them, a woman.
Before I went to bed, I made another call to my 'friends'.
'This is Deianeira. Status report on Jane Norton,' I asked.
'The wedding is in exactly two months.' Damn, I thought.
'Where is the honeymoon?' I asked.
'They are booked into the Luxor hotel in Cairo for three weeks right after the wedding,' the voice said.
'OK. Locate the most skilled tattoo artist in Cairo and tell him to await further instructions in around nine weeks and tell him to practice his Hydra's. Also, find me the meeting places for the local slave-trade and contact names for some 'friends' in Egypt.'
'Done. Anything else?'
'Yes, I want you to obtain a sample of Jane Norton's hair or blood. I think you should be able to persuade her doctor to let you have a sample. Say that you are AIDS testing or something. When you have done that, leave it in the usual place. I will call back in three days.'
With that done, I went to bed, my mind buzzing. Only two months to go. So much to do, but first we must attend to our friends Cathline and John Richards.
The next day at work, I hardly saw Cathline. I wanted to keep up the pretence of loving her so that she would not get scared off, and it would also allow me to adapt my plans to hers as they evolved. What was the saying? 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'.
The next day, I went to the pick-up place, a small cave around 100 miles south of the lab. A sample of hair was in a polythene bag. A cursory inspection showed a few live hair follicles still attached to the hair. Perfect.
I was sitting alone in the canteen (after all, who wants to sit next to the boss?) when Cathline sat next to me.
'Hi,' she said.
'Hi, I've got the package if you still want it,' I said.
'Yes, I still want it. John is so apologetic, but I think he enjoyed cheating on me really,' she said.
'I should have the refined version of it ready in about a week,' I mentioned.
'Look, I've told John I'm going away for a few days to think. I would like to spend them with you.'
'Why not? We'll need privacy. I'll see you tonight,' and I gave her foot an 'accidental' brush with mine.
That night, we didn't do much talking. Lots of doing, but not much talking. Although it was good, there was something missing. Maybe it was surprise. As we lay cuddling in my bed, I asked her a $64,000 question.
'Do you want your husband to be a woman for a while so that you can enjoy her instead of me?'
'Whatever makes you say that?' Was that a guilty look?
'Just a thought.'
'I'll admit that I will try it on when he's your mystery girl, but that's not my main reason.'
'Sure?'
'Positive,' and she gave my nipple a little tweak. This prompted a response from me, and soon we were at it again. This time much more frenzied but still very sensual. Why couldn't men be this sensitive?
Morning came, and I made my way to work, while Cathline worked from my home.
I thought back to my encounters with Cathline. Why did she seduce me so? Why so keen when she had always seemed to have the perfect marriage?
I reflected back again over the events of the past couple of days. Maybe she was a little too eager to have her husband transformed. Why was this?
In searching for this answer, my mind went back to THAT day, THAT hour, THAT second. Further back I went until I saw the same pattern forming. HIM being too willing to go along with my schemes and fantasies and then being hit with refusal. Cathline was playing me for a puppet, just as he had done.
These thoughts began to blot out all others. Liz...CONCENTRATE! Tears, mood swings, why was I getting so upset? I can't let Cathline know I'm onto her.
A day or so later, the answer came, just in the nick of time.
I had thought she was different, but I could see the trap coming this time. She was just using me so that she could get what she wanted. That was it! I saw her plan instantly...Seduce me so she can turn her husband into a woman for a while. See how he likes it, drop me and go running off back to him.
I would not let that happen. I began to draw up a counter to this. It was just a small diversion in the scheme of things, but it would serve as another test I wanted to perform. It would also tidy up some possible loose ends and act as additional insurance should the need arise.
The sample of Kat's DNA was just right, and I made three copies of it. One for John, one for HIM, and one for me. I had no desire to undergo the kind of traumatic change that HE would have to undergo, and so I got my team to design a fast, painless version (I didn't tell them what it was really for, just that if we were to produce this stuff commercially, it should be painless). Once again, my teams came up trumps. They did everything I asked of them and more.
I had realized from the early days of my plan that I would have to change places with Kat at some point in time and that the only way to do that was to become her double. This meant that I had to store copies of my own DNA somewhere safe. I also needed a backup for the equipment at the lab, and so some months previously, I had purchased a small unit just outside of town. It resembled a small warehouse and had little security. Anonymity was the best security this place could have. In any case, the DNA altering traps I had set inside should prevent unauthorized tampering. The only other security measure required me to show my torso to an image recognition system before I could use the system. I called this place 'Rhamnus' after the place where Nemesis sought sanctuary.
It was at 'Rhamnus' that I spliced the final versions of the drugs I was going to use. Let me see... 10 Kat Pills for HIM. With the new intelligent narcotic built in. Plus some other concoctions. 10 Doses of Kat Powder for John with the old Narcotic (but in smaller doses than those for HIM). 1 Painless presto-changeo version for me. 1 Painless back to me version.
How could I have forgotten. I now had to tailor the real Kat's final form and add some fixer to make really sure. I sat down at the terminal and thought. I would tell HIM that I could not identify Kat after her change, but I had to know what she will look like in order that I can recognize her if the need arises. A few hours in front of the GUI DNA interface, and all was complete. I pitied her in a way, so she got a painless dose too. I hoped she liked her new body...
I used the interface to design a few new faces for me, if I should need them. I now reckoned I could reduce the time it takes to change faces down to 20 seconds, and make it painless too. After this, I guessed I'd be the first shapeshifter in the world.
However, all this depended on how well John did. It may seem forward to produce all this first before the test, but time really was short, and I KNEW this would work.
I came back from Rhamnus a few days later. To my chagrin, I had missed being with Cathline, but this had to come first.
I met Cathline around my house after about a week. Why did she have to dress so revealingly in public? I didn't want the news of our affair to get out.
'All Done,' I said and passed her John's 'Kat' Doses.
'This will really work?' she asked as she passed me a sample of John's hair. 'Don't lose it.'
'In three months, he will be back to how he should be,' I said.
'Sure this will work?' Cathline asked.
'Yep. All set, apart from a couple of things.'
'Which are?' Cathline asked.
'You MUST keep a record and E-mail me every day. The detail doesn't have to be too explicit, as I don't want to get too jealous, but I must know if the drug is working OK. Also, when the change is complete, he/she will need some new papers in order to get around, credit cards, passports, drivers license, etc.''This is only for a couple of months,' Cathline confirmed.
'Yes, but you may want to go away. I may just be able to shout you a holiday as a thank you.'
'Wow! You sure?'
'Me? Short of money? Not likely. I guess you want the papers now, so that you can see what your husband will look like?'
'Yes, please, hand them over.'
I handed over the papers, marveling at the work my 'friends' had managed to achieve. All the documents were identical to the real thing.
'Jane Norton, huh?'
'Yep. Cute, isn't she?'
'We look very much alike. Was that intentional?' Cathline observed.
'Kind of. I thought you will be able to share clothes rather than have to buy new outfits for her.'
'Good idea! No, Jane Norton will do just fine. I'll keep in touch when I can, but I'll tell you now that I have to be off work until this is done.'
'Fine. You're fired,' I said.
'What!!'
'Don't worry, I'll take you back on as my deputy once all this is over, but I need to be able to distance myself from this. I hope you understand.'
'Fine. See you in a couple of months, lover.' She said and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
I went back into the house very satisfied. Laying down on my sofa, looking at the sun going down over my well-kept grounds, I made a call from my special phone.
'This is Deianeira. Status report.'
'Everything is in place. The wedding takes place on the 20th of July. The honeymoon destination is confirmed as Cairo.'
'And the tattoo artist?'
'Paid and waiting for further instructions.'
'What about the other packages?'
'EVERYTHING is in place,' The voice sounded a little annoyed.
'Flights booked for all involved?'
'EVERYTHING is in place' The voice sounded even more annoyed.
'Oh, and just one more thing' I outlined an additional instruction.
'Are you sure you want that done? It will cost half a million, cash.'
'Yes,' I answered.
'Consider it done, Deianeira.'
'Thank you, your payment will be in the usual place in four weeks. That will be all for now.'
'Pleasure doing business, Deianeira.' and my 'friend' hung up.
My 'friends' were going to get a shock when they tried to hand out the money. I had impregnated the money with my DNA-altering drug. A couple of hours after it was dished out, there would be a few more cats in the world (The feline kind). The money would dissolve soon after. I do so hate loose ends.
All the pawns were now in place. It would soon be time for the queen to move. I made another call.
'Hi, Terri. This is Liz. Is Vickie there?'
'Hold on, I'll get her,' my secretary said.
'Vickie, Listen, I'm going on a sabbatical for about four months. Can you hold the fort while I'm away?
'Bit sudden, isn't it?' Vickie replied.
'I know it's short notice, but I really NEED the time off. Unless I get a long break, I'll burn up. In any case, I know you can cope.'
'I'll try,' Vickie said.
'Terri. I authorize Vickie Turner to be my deputy in all aspects of my work until my return. I'll confirm that in writing as well. Bye.' I said.
'OK, have a good one,' Terri said.
I checked my mail every day for weeks until then the message 'Incoming E-Mail' appeared on my screen. A cursory check showed it to be from some spam company offering a get-rich-quick scheme, but the UU-encoded picture it contained soon deposited an encrypted text file on my hard disk. This told me this was no spam.
I applied my private key to it, and the message became clear. It read.
"Change 1
"'Hi Lover It's me. If you are reading this rather than watching a jpeg of a pile of money. This means this embedded encryption system really works.'
"John went ape when I told him you had fired me. He threatened to go around to your place and was saying things like 'woman or no woman no one does that to MY wife'. I managed to placate him, saying that I wanted some time off. Anyway, we can afford to wait for a few months before I start looking again."
"'I've decided that I cannot wait ten days for him to change totally, I have calculated how much his body can really take based on the depth of changes. Hope you don't mind. I realize that you cannot reply, but you have to trust me on this one."
I stopped reading the message for a moment. Excellent! I will need to cater for this possibility. So, Cathline, that's fine by me. I went back to the message.
"'I gave the first doses to him in some pizza last night. I wanted to start off small, so I gave him her arms. Have you put in some kind of random delay? Because about an hour after he had taken them, the following occurred.
"'Honey? My arms feel weird,' John said.
"'Pardon?' I asked.
"'They feel all itchy. Have a look,' and he showed me his arms.
"And lover, as I took his hands, the flesh began to ripple. His fingers reformed, smaller, and far more dainty than before. He began to scream as his normally muscular arms began to melt away. I had seen 'cogs' and 'dats' change before, but this was mesmerizing. His muscles seemed to flow, and he grimaced in pain as I could see bone and sinew reform into some muscular but very feminine arms.
"'What's happening to me?' he sobbed. He stared at his new arms for some time, obviously unable to believe his eyes.
"'I don't know, but I do know that I still love you. Besides a little workout and no-one will ever notice,' I lied.
"'Sure?' | 4 |
27,732 | Demoted Into Depravity | 'Bondage is a strange and thrilling experience, Angela! That girl in the photo was once just like you...shy...modest...sweetly polite. She was born to serve! It gives her pleasure...profoundly deep satisfaction. She denied this for a long time, but in the end, she had to let the truth come out. It was just a matter of finding the right person to trust with her secret. You can trust me, Angela...I know what you're thinking. I know everything about how you think...I've seen it hundreds of times in girls just like you...'
Angela was mesmerized by Shane's perverse lecture. She'd heard parts of it before from the time she began working for him, but now it all seemed to make some kind of surreal sense. There was no denying that she did have unusual dreams and fantasies, but she was confused by them. For the first time in her young life, Angela felt she was listening to somebody who could see right through the sweetly innocent facade she wore, and this alarmed her, though it also aroused her in the strangest possible way.
'Have a look at her, Angela. It's like a snapshot of your thoughts. I know it is...don't deny it. Right now, you're wishing that was you in the photograph...stripped naked and vulnerable, shackled and spread helpless at the mercy of a strong, powerful master...'
Angela felt her stomach twist into a guilty knot. She shivered with a rash of goosebumps, blushing as her mind reeled with confusion. It was as if her boss was brainwashing her, but she couldn't do or say anything to stop him. She wanted to make some kind of feeble joke like she usually did to change the subject, but the words just wouldn't form in her mouth. Shane was moving close to her, talking calmly in a soothing, hypnotic tone which started to alarm Angela. Her hands trembled as she gawked at the image of the woman in the photo, her own clitoris throbbing in sympathy with the sensations she imagined the anonymous woman to be having. Never before would she have allowed somebody like Shane to touch her, especially in somewhere as public as his office, but it was as if he'd somehow invaded her conscience, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't evict him or prevent him from trapping her emotions.
'We've talked about this for long enough, Angela...it's time you faced the truth and followed your feelings. You don't have to do anything special...I'll teach you all you need to know, and you do need to be taught. You're never going to be completely happy unless you give in to me...it's what you need to do...admit it...'
Angela just stood there facing Shane's desk. His hot breath on the back of her neck warmed her and almost relaxed her enough to feel comfortable with his hands roaming over her hips. It was a weird seduction. He'd done it without even touching her, and now it seemed like no ceremony was necessary to get her undressed. She felt a perverse urgency, secretly wanting him to simply tear the clothes from her body. Not to sensuously disrobe her, but to quickly and roughly strip her naked while she was feeling most vulnerable and powerless.
It was like a hazy, erotic dream to the timid young blonde. Her modest dress-style had always been like a false shield which nobody had ever challenged, hiding the real Angela from the world. She knew that now as Shane's fingers grappled with the zipper of her skirt. He peeled it open with the ease of a sword slicing butter, Angela demurely accepting the defeat of her sensibilities and doing nothing to resist his conquering of her. Her skirt dropping to the floor around her ankles made her think of a flag falling for some reason, and it signaled the charge of Shane's mental army.
Angela became completely oblivious to the sound of the world going about its business outside of Shane's office. She was unsure of whether he'd locked the door, but it no longer mattered when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy elastic of her undies and tugged them firmly to her ankles. Her eyes became unfocused on the photo in her hand, her soft blue eyes lolling deliriously as Shane started wrestling her blouse up over her head. A moment later, it was trapped over her head, and she felt him grappling with her bra, unhitching it and pulling at it until she almost lost her balance.
The blouse needed to be unbuttoned before Angela could remove it, and she stumbled blindly for a minute, tripping out of her undies and sitting her bare buttocks against Shane's desk as she wriggled and squirmed in her tangled blouse. Angela hadn't wanted to help him strip her, but it had become necessary, and she dropped the photo while she fought the blouse and slackened bra off her arms.
Shane was standing in front of her smirking and grinning wildly when she finally shed her blouse. His expression confused her, and he was holding out his hand to accept her discarded clothes. Angela meekly handed them to him and then blushed, realizing she was completely naked except for her shoes and that Shane was ogling her, gawking at her pert breasts and bushy pubic mound which were completely exposed.
'Yes,' said Shane, his dark eyes flashing deviously. 'I think you're ready to start learning a few lessons.'
Angela felt alarmed by the sudden menacing tone of his voice and immediately covered her nude body defensively. 'What lessons?' she mumbled, feeling acutely aware of her nakedness when she asked.
'You'll see...get dressed!'
Angela felt confused and stunned. She caught her clothes, which he'd thrown back at her, but saw that he intended keeping her underwear. She felt crushed with foolishness, as if she'd just been tricked into doing something totally embarrassing, and the hasty attempts to get back into her skirt and blouse only served to accentuate her humiliation.
'From now on...no underwear!' Shane said, picking up a large pair of scissors to slice her lacy underwear to shreds.
'Um...what are you doing?' Angela gasped, her eyes nearly popping out as she watched the expensive lace being quickly reduced to ribbons. She continued straightening her clothes, anxiously pressing the creases back into her pleated skirt when the room filled with the sound of knocking at the door.
'Come in...' Shane called, not waiting to check whether his blushing, dazed secretary was ready or not. 'That'll be all, Angela...go back to your desk...'
The red-faced young blonde's face was frozen in an expression of dumbstruck confusion, and she avoided the puzzled stare of Shane's partner Karl as she walked briskly from the office. She was desperate to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall and take a few moments to regain her composure, but Karl's voice stopped her in her tracks.
'Angela...I want you to come back to the warehouse with me in a minute...' Karl said in his usual, gruff Teutonic tone. 'Wait there...I won't be a minute.'
The timid blonde felt her world collapsing around her as she stood impatiently just outside the office door. None of the other girls in the outer office seemed aware of what had just happened, and nor did Karl. But there was something suspicious about the way he'd asked her to accompany him.The warehouse for Shane and Karl's shipping business was in the outer suburbs, and none of the city office girls ever went there. It was sort of like a Coventry place where the city secretaries were sent when their work performance was in question, and none ever returned. Nobody ever spoke about the place, but Angela sensed something foreboding.
"Are you ready?" Karl said, startling Angela when he unexpectedly appeared behind her.
"Um...yes..." she stuttered. "I'll just get my handbag..."
The draft of the noisy ventilation system in the underground carpark seemed to blow straight up under Angela's clothes, reminding her that she was without her underwear. Even though her blouse was modest, her bare breasts jiggled provocatively as she walked beside Karl. His sideways glances at her, which she pretended not to notice, surely noticed the embarrassing bounce of her unrestrained breasts, and this made the young blonde feel like dying with shame. She knew what men thought of girls who went braless, and she wanted to explain that she wasn't the kind of girl he probably thought because of it. But obviously this was not an option.
Karl was the senior partner in the firm, and his brand new Mercedes richly displayed this. Angela smiled faintly and thanked Karl when he held open the passenger's door for her, but she felt her skin crawl a bit when he seemed to pay her breasts more than gentlemanly interest as she sat. The seatbelt strapped tightly over her chest accentuated the smooth, unholstered shape of her breasts, and, to Angela's increasing unease, Karl clearly noticed this.
Nothing was said as he drove up and around the ramps leading to the exit. It wasn't until he finally navigated his way back out into the throng of busy, mid-afternoon traffic that Karl spoke.
"Do you like working for PDL Transport?" he asked.
"Yes..." Angela replied, trying to ignore the feelings of nakedness she felt under her clothes.
"How long have you been with us now?"
"It will be two years in November...I joined straight after university," Angela said, relaxing slightly at the informality.
"University!" Karl said, sounding surprised. "Do you have to go to university these days to be a secretary, eh?"
Angela felt a little insulted by the remark but didn't show it. "I studied for an Arts Degree...languages actually...but I didn't know what to do when I finished..."
"What...so you thought you'd be a secretary until you made up your mind?"
"I didn't mean it like that!" Angela quickly apologized, realizing she sounded like she was complaining about her job. "No...I love working as a secretary..."
"Shane says you're a very competent one...he told me so!" Karl had a moment to stare and smile at her as he waited for the traffic lights to change color from red to green.
"That's nice of him..." Angela blushed, not knowing how to receive the compliment properly in light of what Shane had just done to her.
"Yes...he says you're a very clever young lady...that you'll go places in this firm..."
"He does?" Angela contained her surprise enough not to sound totally incredulous. "Well...yes...I really enjoy working for him...he's a good boss."
The lights changed, and Karl moved with the flow of traffic, not speaking again until he turned onto the freeway. "Enjoy working for him...that's good..." Karl chuckled softly. "Yes...he told me you're a good worker. Very cooperative. I like having an obedient staff."
Angela felt a sudden rush of guilty panic at the way he said it. She knew he was hinting at something, and it filled her with dread. The car sped along the freeway, Angela staring out through the tinted glass at the quickly passing urban scenery. Again, there was a long silence.
"Shane can be a bit strange at times, though," Karl said flatly.
Angela's attention was immediately caught. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously.
"You know!" Karl laughed heartily, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You know...strange...unusual..."
"I'm sorry, Mr. van Hauer...I'm not sure I know what you mean..." the timid blonde tried to keep her nervous voice settled as she spoke.
"That's good..." Karl said, sounding pleased with her response.
"I beg your pardon?" Angela relaxed slightly.
"You're discreet...I like that!"
Angela felt her heart jump to her mouth when he winked and grinned at her. She was immediately convinced he knew what had just happened, but still there was no way of knowing for certain without running the risk of making a complete fool of herself.
"If you mean..."
"I mean you value privacy...and honesty..." Karl was still avoiding the point.
"Yes...honesty is a virtue!" Angela kicked herself for rattling off the cliche.
"A virtue..." Karl laughed a little. "That's a charming way of putting it, Angela." Angela sheepishly returned his smile. "But it's not strictly a virtue, you know?"
The smile on Angela's innocent face quickly changed to a frown, and she squirmed discreetly in her seat.
"No...there are seven virtues, and honesty is not one of them..." Karl sounded an authority on the matter. "Faith is a virtue...having faith that honesty will be rewarded...you could say it's related that way..."
Angela felt uncomfortable with the discussion. She tried to look attentively at him but was afraid to make eye contact.
"So when I said you valued discretion, I meant it's a two-way street. If you can be discreet...I can be discreet..."
Angela couldn't bring herself to ask him what he meant, but she was forced to.
"Put your hand in my pocket..." Karl winked at her, nodding to the hip pocket of his jacket. "Go on...it won't bite!"
The young blonde felt extremely reluctant to comply, instinctively knowing there would be some kind of unpleasant surprise in store for her. But she cautiously reached over and slipped her hand into his pocket, feeling around inside it and pulling out a handful of cloth strips that made her gasp with fright. He had the remains of her underwear in his pocket, and her reaction of dread made the wicked old man laugh out loud.
"What's the matter, Angela? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he teased. "I didn't believe it...Shane said it was yours!"
Angela dropped the handful of shredded lace and rushed to put her hand over her shocked mouth. He'd tricked her, and she'd fallen into his trap. There'd be no way of denying that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. He'd already noticed the absence of her bra, and it would be impossible now to convince him she had anything on under her skirt. For the second time in one day, Angela felt the burning rash of deep humiliation.
"Relax, Angela! You can trust me..." Karl said as he headed off the freeway and turned into the driveway of his warehouse.
Angela knew his words were hollow. Seeing the dark-haired woman from the photo sitting behind the reception desk of his warehouse office had a more unsettling effect on her.
The image of the woman, completely naked on the wire bed, arms and legs outstretched and shackled, came flooding back to the frightened young secretary's mind. She remembered the leather-jacketed man's arm holding some kind of brown stick and probing her defenselessly exposed slit. It was as if the image had been branded on Angela's memory.
"Virginia...this is Angela," Karl said, smirking at the trembling young girl he'd brought to the office.
"She's a pretty one...is this her first time?" the dark-haired woman's husky voice made her sound thoroughly evil to Angela. "I'm going to enjoy having her around..."
"Virginia likes to welcome all the new girls...she's very special to this firm!" Karl suddenly lifted the front of Angela's modest skirt.
Angela buckled over, shrieking loudly and frantically trying to push the old man's hands away. But it was too late. He'd already exposed the embarrassing truth of her missing underwear, and, after a short struggle with both Karl and Virginia, the timid blonde found herself completely naked.
"Please..." Angela whimpered, trying to hide herself with her small hands as Virginia wrestled the shoes from her feet. "I don't understand what's going on..."
"What's there to understand? You've been promoted out of the secretary pool to something much more highly regarded in this company!" Karl grumbled as he fought to pull the frantically struggling blonde's arms behind her back.
Angela couldn't see how he could call it a promotion. She'd just been completely humiliated by both of them, and, from what she could tell, it was just the beginning. "What do you mean...highly regarded?"
"You ask too many questions, Angela!" Virginia said, roughly pressing a red rubber ball into her open mouth and strapping it tightly in place to gag her.
Angela's mouth filled with saliva, and she clamped her jaws on the rubber ball, desperately trying to scream but not being able to raise the necessary noise she was after. The gag was terrifyingly effective, preventing any of the hysterical protests she attempted. A moment later, and she felt her wrists being cuffed with thick, black leather straps which were shackled together behind her back. In less than a minute, Angela found herself standing totally nude, hands unable to hide her lewdly exposed nakedness, and her ankles manacled with leather bracelets that were surely intended for some bizarre imprisonment.
"Feels good, doesn't it, Angela?" Virginia smirked deviously as she cupped her warm hands around the naked blonde's unprotected breasts and began pinching at her swelling nipples. Angela shook her head vigorously in denial. "Yes, it does...you can't lie to me!"
Angela gasped, biting down hard on the rubber gag as the middle-aged woman painfully twisted her tender nipples. She tripped and stumbled as the woman unexpectedly began dragging her by the nipples from the office into the cavernous interior of the warehouse. "I'll take over from here, Karl," Virginia laughed, dragging the horrified young blonde away from him. "We'll see you in a minute inside..."The sight of a group of workmen gawking excitedly at her almost made Angela faint. It was only Virginia's painful grip on her stretched, tortured nipples that kept her on her feet, though the men quickly gathered around and grabbed hold of her to carry her to the far end of the warehouse floor.
The terrified young secretary was practically in tears, twisting and struggling helplessly as the leather cuffs around her ankles were hitched to chains hanging from a winch above. The blood rushed to her head as the electric motor powering it whirred into life, dragging her widely spread feet towards the ceiling until her head was able to be lowered without touching the concrete floor. When the men finally released her, Angela struggled violently, but this merely made her swing around on the end of the chains, making her more dizzy. A minute or so later, she gave up, trying to focus her tear-filled eyes on the upside-down view of the group of wild-eyed onlookers. It was the most degrading, humiliating moment of her entire life and, judging by the sinister-looking riding crop in Virginia's hand, it looked set to get even worse.
'Hurry up, Karl!' Virginia called loudly, her angry-sounding voice resounding in the warehouse. 'Tell him to hurry up, Angela!'
The terrified blonde screamed silently through the gag as her bare, defenseless fleshy buttocks was suddenly stung sharply with the crop. She arched her back, struggling frantically to avoid the shower of painful lashes which began raining on her backside. The sadistic woman's taunts for her to call Karl had her sobbing dry tears of helplessness, unable to call for the perverted old man or stop the agonizing lashes to her bottom.
The men standing around watching were goggle-eyed with perverse excitement as they watched the defenseless, naked blonde being thrashed mercilessly by Virginia. Angela could no longer see them through her tear-filled eyes, but she could feel their presence closing in around her and the sound of their voices crudely describing their delight at the kinky spectacle she provided. Karl's accented voice eventually broke over the animated noise of the workers, and Virginia stopped whipping her, leaving her to hang trembling and shaking with terrified agony.
'This is where the fun part begins, Angela,' Karl said, leaning down to talk directly into her tear-streaked face. 'You will be working here from now on...Virginia will be your boss, but any of these men will also be able to tell you what to do. You are to do whatever they ask...without question. Is that understood?'
Angela hung limply in her restraints, her head fogged with confusion and not knowing what he was talking about. Still, she eventually nodded agreeably and, as her 'reward', was forced to watch helplessly as each man in turn lined up to lash her defenseless slit with their tongues.
It only took a second of the first man's energetic sucking and slurping on her clit to realize that the bizarre, humiliating abuse had made her clit hard and throbbing with surreal delight. The men were only allowed a minute or two each to 'introduce themselves', as Virginia had joked, and each man's approach was surprisingly different.
All the while this was going on, Angela first sensed, then felt something happening behind her. The feeling of something smooth and cold slipping into the crater of her anus filled her with dread, but she couldn't concentrate beyond the perverse arousal being stirred by the procession of tongues on her clit. She realized Karl was about to penetrate her puckered anus with something, but the spasming muscles of her crotch made resistance futile and, before she could flex her buttocks defensively, her ring slipped tautly around a film, slippery dildo.
Angela arched her back, stretching and curling her toes as the blinding daze of an orgasm suddenly enveloped her. She moaned through the gag as the shaft slowly impaled her back passage, each burrowing inch of it setting off the tingling sensation of shitting until her whole bowel felt packed and solid. She couldn't think straight as the last of the men roughly nuzzled and slurped noisily on her throbbing clit. Their half-unshaven whiskers irritated the sensitive, unfurled channel of her slit which, Angela felt sure, yawned obscenely open for all to see.
It was a long time after Angela was released before she could think clearly about what had transpired that afternoon. Her ring felt stretched and damaged for many hours afterwards, but the worst was in her mind. The experience had liberated the timid, demure young blonde in some way she couldn't explain, and the next morning she found herself standing naked in front of Virginia's desk, waiting excitedly for the new day's instructions. Her life as a sex slave had begun. | 3 |
28,147 | Sordid Conception - Part 7 | 'I did that....made Brenda come.'
Sharon had sat back on her legs after Brenda's thighs had fallen open. Her fingers went to her lips as she continued to taste the tangy wetness that Brenda had produced. It was her first taste of womanly cum, and she found it almost as intoxicating as hard liquor.
She wanted to tell Brenda how much she had enjoyed trying to give cunnilingus, experiencing it from the other side, but there would be time for that later because Brad gripped her arm and pulled her toward him.
"I hope you're ready, Mom, because I'm gonna give it to you good," he said a little too loudly. Sharon realized he was announcing it to Brenda. So Brenda could watch what she and Brad had hidden from everyone else. Brenda rolled over toward them, raising herself up on her elbow, and Sharon saw the anticipation in her eyes...and the special extra in her eyes that was for her alone.
Brad pulled her to him and then swung her upper body toward the far side of the bed, away from Brenda, as he let her gently down on her back. He lifted her left leg almost straight up in the air, swinging it past his chest and around his other side as he positioned himself over her.
"Spread your legs...wider than that," Brad commanded her as he fisted his ready member and ran the wet head on her hair-matted mons. "Now pull them back like I like."
He wanted her legs back toward her head, a position that they had both enjoyed frequently over the past 18 months. She knew he wanted them back now for another reason - to give Brenda, who still lay behind his son's feet, an unimpeded view of his hefty dick delving into her cunt.
Turning into a full-fledged exhibitionist in the excitement of the moment, she bent her legs at the knees and tilted them back, her pelvis rolling up at her eager son. She could feel her labia opening up, exposing the slick inner lining of her sex slit and the mouth of her simmering quim. At least that was the view she imagined Brenda was getting.
Her son didn't give Brenda a long, lingering gaze - he quickly leaned over her, fit the head of his prick into the entrance of her pussy and began pushing it down into her.
"Man! You're fucking wet," Brad exclaimed as he buried himself balls-deep in her without any problem due to their position and her record-breaking lubrication level. His slab of cock filled her so beautifully. She could have looked for years in town for someone as satisfying as Brad but she knew she never would need to. Her baby would be there for her for years and years. The fact that both of them were in their sexual prime was not lost on her. It had always seemed like cruel fate that men and women matured so far apart. She wondered how many other women her age were bedding much younger men - and how many were their sons!
Brad began slowly fucking her, pulling his cock almost all the way out before injecting it again deep in her itchy sheath. For once in his life, her son was taking his time - right when she wanted nothing more for him to pound her sex. She wanted to come in the worst way; a hard, energetic fucking was the quickest way there. But Brad continued to play to their watching bed mate.
"Harder," she said very softly up at her son's leering face. It wasn't loud enough for Brenda to hear but her son wouldn't even spare her that little private exchange.
"Sure, Mom," he said loudly, "But I want you to speak up some. I'm sure Brenda wants to hear what you want me to do to you." Waiting for her to comply, he pulled out until only his knob was still in her needy confines and then he let it hover there.
'Damn you, Brad,' she said to herself as her cheeks warmed in a blush. Painting herself as a horny slut in front of Brenda was not what she wanted but wasn't it really what she was? Summoning all the courage she could, she responded to her manipulative man-son.
"I said do it harder!" she said in a voice so strong and confident that it surprised even herself. "Fuck me like a real man, Brad....fuck me hard!"
"All you had to do was ask," Brad said with a chuckle before he drove himself strongly down into her splayed crotch, his balls slapping loudly against her ass as their pubic bones jarred together.
Sharon let her face fall sideways on the bed as her virile son began hammering her lifted lap with powerful lunges.
It was only the feeling of drool starting to seep from the corner of her mouth that brought Brenda out of her voyeuristic trance. The sight of incestuous cock and cunt working in a hot tandem was overpowering to watch. She swallowed quickly, never taking her eyes from the hot scene only a few feet away.
Brad's fat prick was opening up his mother's furry slit obscenely and his thrusts were making the bed squeak underneath her. Sharon's pussy was dribbling clear juice which welled up or was deposited below her stuffed gash by Brad's driving member. That juice was running down over her mother-in-law's small, brown puckered anus, then disappearing further down her ass crack.
Brenda began rubbing her own slick slit which now felt ready for more action. Her orgasm had left her as juicy as Sharon and she wondered if Brad would be able to fuck her as well in the session that was unfolding. She prepared herself for a letdown. He was probably going to get his rocks off with his mother and then things would probably settle down.
'But I can come back tomorrow for another baby-making try with Brad.....and the next day....and every day. I've got the perfect excuse since any session might get me pregnant...Sharon will understand.'
Sharon was moaning now, every flesh-smacking fuck by Brad was being answered by hot sex squeals from her mother-in-law. She was working her way to an orgasm and Brenda wanted to do more than watch. Sharon had done something for her...she had joined in.
She crawled past the two humping bodies on their right until she was almost laying beside Sharon. Brad was the first to register that she was there; his mother's face was laying on the bed looking the other way.
"Like watching....uuhhh...me fuck her?" Brad said hotly. Sharon's face flopped over and looked at her through lust-slitted eyes, her mouth open in a perpetual O as Brad continued to screw her.
"I've never seen anything so hot," Brenda said to Sharon, letting her left hand slowly reach out to land on Sharon's jiggling left tit. Sharon's eyes closed as she rubbed her palm over the stiff, eraser-sized nipple.
"Yeah!....that's it, Brenda....help me make her come....uuhhh...and I'll.....fuck you!"
"AAAAHHH....UUHHHH....MMMHHMMMM!" Sharon began panting right at her face and Brenda ran her hand over both of Sharon's supple breasts like she was waxing her car. A quick glance down her reclining, shuddering body and Brenda could again see Brad's crimson-hued erection bucking up and down in the widespread V of his sexy, derilious mother's legs.
Another five or six thrusts and Sharon's back arched sharply, her head dipping straight back as she began cumming.
"UUUUUHHHGGHHHHAAAAHHHHH!.....HHHHAAAAHHHHHOOHH!" Sharon shrieked as her hands, which had been grabbing bunches of bedspread, shot up and held her son's sides as leaned further over her, pressing his swollen pleasure-giver deep in her rippling loins.
"Yeaaaahh...yeaaaahh....she's cumming so biiiiiggggggg!" Brad announced as he rode his mother's twitching body. After a few minutes, mother and son were still.
"You really got off that time," Brad said after giving his mother a real kiss. Brenda thought the kiss was probably the most intimate part of the incest she had just witnessed; fucking and sucking could be explained away by hormones, but the deep soul kissing that Sharon and Brad did in front of her showed genuine love.
"It's been a crazy, wonderful day," Sharon said simply, stroking Brad's face. Then she turned to look at her. "Brenda, I don't know where all this is...heading but we can talk about it later. I want a grandchild. Now, you two get busy and make one."
'Time to fill Brenda's box with some more cum!' Brad thought hotly as he untangled himself from his mother.Brenda began to shift over on the bed, arranging herself on her back with her head in the pillows. While that looked incredibly inviting, Brad had had enough of the missionary. He wanted to take Brenda in a different position than the one he had already had her in.
"I want you on your hands and knees," Brad told her. "I want to get real deep when I plant my seed." He felt ridiculous saying that, like he was some sort of Johnny Appleseed, but it had the desired effect. His turned-on sister-in-law rolled to her left and positioned herself on her hands and knees, facing away from him, with her head in the far right corner of the bed. She swung her long hair to one side, looking back at him as he moved up behind her full ass.
"Man, what a pretty pussy!" Brad said as he moved in closer. All shaved and wet and soft looking, Brenda's sex winked at him, ready to get stuffed with his unflagging stiffie. His hands caressed her ass and squeezed it, pulling her cheeks as he pressed his knees against the inside of her shins and made her open her stance wider. Her ass lowered further down then began to lift again, roll forward, as Brenda lowered herself down on her elbows. He slid his hands a little lower and used his thumbs to pull her pussy folds apart and her pink tunnel was right there, just begging for it.
The bed behind him shifted and his mother moved beside him on her knees as well, her left hand resting on his shoulder while her right hand rubbed his back affectionately.
"Go ahead, Brad," she said softly, her eyes on Brenda's opened sex crease. His cock bobbed up and down as his mother encouraged him to fuck and impregnate her other son's wife.
"Yes," Brenda purred, wanting it also.
His mother's left hand slid off his shoulder, went under his arm and she grabbed his erection, bending it down toward its target. Brad flexed his hips forward and his knob pressed into Brenda's slick opening and then disappeared down her snug hole.
"Ahhh, yeah!" he grunted as he slowly worked himself into Brenda's fertile fuck furrow.
"That's a good boy," his mother said throatily near his ear.
After a few minutes of careful invasion, Brenda was full of cock and Brad began thrusting back and forth in her succulent cunt while his mother stroked his chest and ass with her hands.
"Ooooohhh.....mmmmmmm...uuuummmm....GodohGod...mmmmmmm," Brenda mewed as he held her hips and pushed and pulled his erection in and out of her slippery, tight vagina.
The scene played itself out for about ten minutes, the intensity rising and rising. Brenda came with a shriek and Brad had to slow his thrusts until her cunt had gone slack again, then he began pounding her liquidy hole like a madman as he felt his own orgasm cresting.
"HERE I COME!...OOOHYEAAHH...UUUUUGHHH.....UUUGGHH!" he bellowed as his mother held him and his balls blew his wad deep in his sexy sister-in-law. He came so hard his balls hurt.
'This stud service is the greatest!' he thought to himself as his cock finally stopped twitching in Brenda's cum-ladened cooze and his mother kissed the side of his neck.
Epilogue - 15 months later
"I wish you'd let me clean up," Sharon said to Chris as she got up from the dining room table.
"Leave it. We'll clean up later," Chris assured his visiting mother. "Why don't you and Brad go in and relax in the living room. Brenda will be down in a few minutes. Carol goes down like a shot."
Sharon and Brad got up from the table, sharing a knowing smile as they headed into the front room. The night had been very special; both she and Brad were always happy to come over to Chris's house and see little Carol. She was a beautiful, healthy baby that had been born almost nine months to the day of the wild happenings up in Sharon's bed.
Sharon sat in easy chair and Brad slouched down on their couch, holding the bottle of beer he'd not finished at dinner. Chris came in a few minutes later carrying a couple of wine glasses and another bottle of wine. He, Brenda and Sharon had consumed a bottle at dinner already.
"Oh, Chris...you shouldn't have opened another bottle," Sharon said as he handed her a glass.
"Well, if we don't finish it, it's no biggie. Besides, this is a celebration. Carol's 6 months old and this day will never come again."
Sharon let Chris pour her another glass. She already felt warm all over from the alcohol she'd already consumed but Brad would be O.K. to drive them home.
Brenda came down the stairs at that moment and Brad couldn't help mentally undressing her, now that he knew all her charms in intimate detail. The blouse she wore had sort of a low neckline and with her mammaries even larger from breastfeeding, she was showing plenty of cleavage. He was surprised his brother would let her traipse around like that but he wasn't complaining.
Fucking her for the few weeks the previous year had been awesome and it did pain him to know he would probably never get to again. Still, his mother was giving him all he wanted.
"She went right down. She's such a good baby," Brenda said.
"You're so lucky...this one kept us up all night," Sharon said, tapping Chris on the leg as he stood by her chair pouring wine into the other glass he had brought.
"Here you go, Bren," Chris said, handing the glass of wine to her. "Now, I'd like to propose a toast."
"You need a glass, Chris," Sharon said.
"Nah, I'll use the bottle....O.K., first I'd like to thank Brenda for bringing such a beautiful baby into our lives." Brenda and he shared a quick kiss.
"Come on, Chris," Brad chimed in. "You had a little to do with it, you know?"
"I wish that were true," Chris said cryptically.
Sharon felt her stomach drop a little. Was it possible that Chris knew something?
"Look, we all know it's not true," Chris continued. "The second part of my toast is to the other people that did make it happen - you and Brad."
Sharon looked at Brenda and saw that she was smiling at her and Brad. Chris's announcement didn't seem to faze her; she had known that he knew before they came over. What was happening here?
"I'm afraid our little secret is out," Brenda said, taking a sip of wine. "But Chris understands, so don't worry. Chris spoke to Dr. Evans and found out about his low-sperm count and sort of put two and two together."
"I felt bad accusing her of committing adultery," Chris said, stroking Brenda's arm. "But the doctor was so incredulous that I'd been able to get Brenda knocked up...well, it was all I could think of."
"I decided to just tell him the truth and, after a while, he saw the logic in it. We both came clean with each other about everything. He had some secrets, not like ours, but he got his secrets off his chest and I came clean about everything. We don't have any secrets now," Brenda said proudly.
"That's right, Mom," Chris said. "I know all about Brenda and Brad... and about you and Brad." Brad and his mother exchanged worried looks but their concern was tempered by Brenda's continuing smile.
"At first, I was shocked but, well, now I think it's all right," Chris continued. He handed the wine bottle to Brenda and extended his hand to Sharon. She took it, thinking that he wanted to show his understanding by holding her hand. Chris continued, "I really don't see anything wrong with what you and Brad are doing. A mother and a son ....no, I don't see a thing wrong with that."
Brad saw his mother's arm straighten as his older brother pulled on her hand. He was pulling their mother up out of her chair.
Realization dawned on Sharon at that point and she felt a great calm come over her. Things were going to be all right. She drained the wine glass she held and handed it to Brenda as her husband led the way to the stairs.
"Whatta?...." Brad said to Brenda as she began sitting down the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. The legs of his mother and Chris were disappearing upstairs.
"Don't you see, Brad?" Brenda said as she sat by him on the couch. "You and Chris are so much alike. That's why I told him about you and your mother.....I knew he'd be interested too."
"So, Mom and Chris are....."
"That's right. You're going to have to share her from now on," Brenda said as she began to stroke his chest. "Of course, the sharing goes the other way too...you see, Chris and I love Carol so much that we want another baby....and tonight's a good night, if you know what I mean."
Brad leaned into her and they began kissing. He let his hand roam over Brenda's milk-swollen tits, rubbing them through her blouse. After ten minutes of heavy necking and petting, he had Brenda very hot.
"Let's go upstairs," she suggested.
"You read my mind," he responded, getting up and leading her up the stairs. As they walked past the guest bedroom, Chris could clearly hear his mother moaning inside as she and Chris enjoyed each other for the first time.
'What a family!' he thought as he looked forward to fucking Brenda once again.
The End | 4 |
29,212 | A Little Summer Heat | 'Aaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhhhh Wretchedness!' I sighed to myself. My consulting job was coming to an end. I had milked it for all it was worth, and the dead horse didn't deserve beating any further. I had the Novell net set up and working beautifully. I had added a couple of custom database applications, standardized the Windows environment, and I was pretty much all set. Even backing up the entire system could be done with the push of a single button. It was flawless. It was perfect. It was done. Finally.
It was the height of a scorching summer, and it had taken me about a year to finish the project correctly from start to finish. Most of the techie stuff had been done and done well; now I was in the final phase: Teaching users how to get the most out of the system. I had made everything push-button simplistic, and everyone seemed to get it. However, I needed someone with better-than-average user knowledge to teach all of the technical aspects to, just in case something went wrong after I departed. Jim Nevin, the branch director, knew that Linda Taylor and I didn't get along as well as others in the office, but he also knew that Linda had the best technical aptitude of the entire office, even better than himself. He thought that she should hold the position of Network Administrator after I left. What Jim didn't know, and what nobody else in the office knew, was that I had been sleeping with Linda Taylor pretty steadily since the previous Christmas.
We hid it very well. Very well indeed. In the office, we said the perfunctory good mornings, and that was it, but outside the office, we fucked up a storm. Linda's marriage was on a crash course, sputtering and spiraling to a fiery death. She wasn't even trying to save it. She didn't care anymore, and she wanted out. Her husband, Randy, was getting it elsewhere, she suspected, and supposedly had been for a long time. Her kids, three of them, looked to me as just some guy in their mother's office. Little did they know. By this time, Jessica was 10, Jodi was 3, and Bobby was a year and some change. They were all spitting images of their mother, redheaded and freckle-faced.
Randy Taylor, from the two times that I had met him, seemed to be the stereotypical 'high school jock who couldn't make it', avid beer drinking, out with the boys, leave me the fuck alone I'm watching football type of guy. I didn't feel guilty one single iota about fucking his wife. In his house, in his bed, in my car, in my apartment, in a cheap, rancid hotel where she had to wash off my cum in the sink because it didn't have a shower. Not guilty at all. I rationalized that he had brought this down upon himself.
Secretly, I hoped that he knew. Why, I don't know. Maybe I wanted him to change and become the man that he promised her he'd be. Linda and I had great times together, but that was that. We both knew that this was a temporary thing. I had no intentions of taking her away and marrying her. At the time, I was 24 and she was 32. She had no intentions of forcing a divorce upon him either. She figured that it would just end one day when they both called it quits. In my own head, I knew that she still loved him in some perverse way, and I wanted them both to get it together, not only for their sake, but for the sake of their kids.
We didn't even make a great effort to hide the torrid affair outside of the office. I even went as far as fucking her in the backseat of my Olds in a McDonald's parking lot! . . . On a Friday night even! The coil springs bucked and squeaked, and even though I couldn't see, I knew that a bunch of high school kids were transfixed at the sight of this car bouncing up and down seemingly of its own accord. When we were done, the car reeked of pussy, and the backseat was drenched in sweat and breast milk.
During our months together, Linda herself began to change, for the better. She seemed to walk a little more upright. New hairstyles appeared spontaneously. Even smiles danced across her freckled face. The clothes grew tighter and more revealing. She had even lost a little weight, in all the right places. Her ass was still plump and luscious, her tits were still two big melodious honeydew melons that squirted voluminous fountains of milk almost on command. I had even taken to laying across her lap and sucking for all I was worth. Bobby had been weaned by then, but I was more than happy to make up for the loss. She would even cum while I suckled her, her tits quivering and slapping me in the head.
In the seven months since our initial, nasty encounter, there wasn't a place in her house, or my apartment or a hotel within 100 miles that we hadn't left wet spots. I even fucked her in her fridge! I bent her at the waist and shoved her entire upper body into the large refrigerator and fucked her pussy silly while her titties bounced back and forth over butter and cold beer cans and shit like that. When I took her out, she was freezing from the waist up, but her nipples were like thumbs trying to hitchhike!
There wasn't a spot on her body that my dick didn't travel to. I fucked her in her fiery red cunt, in her blubbery buttcheeks, in her hot mouth, between the globes of her tits, and even between her toes! At the time I thought this was strange, but the experience was quite pleasurable.
It was one of my last 'in-office' days, and I decided to begin the cleanup process, taking and boxing up my stuff. My office was a temporary one, so they had located me down the hall quite a distance from the Receptionist's desk and anything else, for that matter. I didn't mind. In fact, I liked the isolation, after all, I am the stereotypical computer person: Not a 'people person' at all. The office was large too. Larger than Jim, the director's office even. Even with two large desks, a credenza, a sofa that appeared to be about 8 feet long, and several chairs, the office was still very spacious.
I finished most of the packing and had two boxes seated on the floor. It was morning, and I had shown up first, letting one of the cleaning crew let me in. By the time I had finished packing, it was 9:00 am, and the office was just beginning to come to life. I walked down the long hallway to the main office. The first person to greet me was Cindy, Jim Nevin's 11-year-old daughter. During the Summer, instead of shelling out a few bucks for a day-camp or a babysitter, he thought it would be better if he brought her to the office and let everyone else keep an eye on her. It was frugal, but it was a shitty thing to hit your employees with babysitting duty.
Cindy had a habit of terrorizing the office, not in a bratty sort of way, but more of a 'Stop whatever you're doing and play with me' sort of way. I couldn't blame her. Spending her Summer days cooped up in an office with a bunch of old folks, in fact, that's how I felt most of the time. I was the only one close to Cindy's age, even though, at 24, she still saw me as part of the 'grown-up establishment'. She had an unusual way of looking at things. Not childlike, just intelligently naive. She would even talk about politics and world current events. I asked her how she knew so much, and she said that she watched CNN in the morning while her father was getting ready for work.
I liked Cindy, in a fresh, new idea sort of way. Nothing sexual, at first that is. Cindy even seemed to like me, because I talked to her like an adult, and not like a little kid. She even said that she appreciated me not being condescending to her. But, if she screwed up around me, I told her about it and chewed her out just like I'd do to anyone else. She seemed to like the equality. Most of Cindy's time had been spent going from one person to the next, seeing what they were doing, and then getting shooed away. When she came to me, I made a genuine effort to explain what I was doing and why. She even seemed to comprehend some of my techno-babble. Consequently, I took her under my wing as my gopher/protégé.
"Susan's not here today... Go log in at her computer. The password is Z-E-O-S Twelve," I told her. She followed directions implicitly, and this was no major task for her. She skipped down the long hall and booted and logged in to Susan's PC. She even knew how to ring me and begin a chat session. For 11, her typing skills were getting better by the day; she was familiar with the home-row keys and on a good day, could get up to about 35 wpm without error.Her slimmer fingers seemed to give her an advantage. I don't know why.
We chatted for a few minutes, I ran some diagnostics and told her that everything was okay, and she could come back. I walked out of my office and made my way to the bathroom. It was located off the hall between my office and the main office. Cindy turned the corner and spied me on her way back. She started running towards me, getting up a full head of steam and running wide open. Her white summer dress flounced as she kicked like an Olympian. As she approached, she didn't slow down and slammed into me, giggling all the while. She hit my midsection so hard, I thought I'd piss on myself right there.
"That was great! I did it right, right?" She was looking up at me. It was as if I was noticing her for the first time. Cindy is a beautiful girl, if an 11-year-old can be considered beautiful. I guess it was more like 'Cute with the potential for beauty at some later date'. Her blond hair, little, slightly upturned nose, and cocoa brown eyes gave her an incredibly beautiful appearance.
"Yeah, you did okay," I said, flicking her cute nose. "There's a surprise for you in my office."
"What is it?"
"Go see," I said knowingly. I walked around her to the bathroom singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game.'
"Hardballs!" She exclaimed, and then ran to my office giggling at her play on words. I had a pirated copy of a great baseball game called 'Hardball'. I didn't even have to teach her how to play it, she took to it all so quickly. Her brother was on the high school team, so she knew the rules relatively well. Once I taught her a few strategies like 'Hit and Run' and how to maximize her lineup, she had a powerhouse team. My team was tops though. Undefeated through 62 games and nobody had even come close. I had the Boston Red Sox, and my lineup was comprised of the best the American League had to offer: Vaughn, Canseco, McGuire, Henderson, Boggs, Griffey Jr., Fielder, Frank Thomas, Bo Jackson... only the best. The pitching staff was stellar: Clemens, McDowell, Eckersley, Viola, Randy Johnson, Guzman. My numbers were astronomical, I had even exported my team stats into a Lotus spreadsheet to graph them.
I grabbed hold of my dick and was a little surprised at how small it seemed.
"What are you afraid of, boy?" I spoke to it. "She's a kid, don't be afraid. I won't even think about it, so don't worry." The conversation was ridiculous. My dick was afraid of showing want for an 11-year-old! The piss felt great. It seemed as if I had been storing it for a while because it jetted out of me and splashed off the urinal. I had to stand back a bit to avoid getting wet.
"If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can invent a splash-guard for the male urinal!" I said out loud. It was a joke, but it was a good idea. I washed the few stray splashes of whizz off my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. "Not stunning, but I'll do." I said, and chuckled a bit. 'Maybe the bod did need a little work' I thought. "Well, the rest of the summer is open and the bank account is stuffed!" I was right. This would probably be one of my last days at the office and the consulting fees I had worked up were quite substantial.
I walked back to my office expecting to find Cindy quietly playing games on my PC, but she wasn't there. I assumed that she had left and found something else to do, but I could see a hint of white fabric coming out of the bottom-front of my desk. Cindy had a little game she liked to play on people. Hide under their desk and wait until they sat down to scare the shit out of them. I had fallen prey on several occasions, but not this day. I slowly walked around and sat at my desk and began playing Hardball with my team.
"Hmmm. I wonder where Cindy went."
I heard her giggle.
"She didn't want to play baseball? Well, looks like I'm gonna have to change her team statistics."
"You better not!" Said the voice beneath me.
"Oh my, I'm hearing voices. Is that Cindy? But I don't see her. Where oh where can she be?" She giggled again and pinched my leg. "What was that? Cindy was that you? I can't see you. You couldn't be hiding... under my desk!" I screamed and fell to the floor, grabbing her and tickling her through her thin dress. It was dark beneath my desk, but I could make out Cindy's face, her teeth gleaming in laughter as I tickled her sides. I made up my mind to teach her a lesson once and for all, and maybe cop a good feel in the process.
"Pleeeeeeeeezzzz!" She giggled out with tears in her eyes. I was relentless, I had gotten one of her sneakers and socks off and was going nuts on the sole of her foot. Cindy squirmed and bucked trying to get away, but the laughter was making her very uncoordinated. I knew she was in pain. My brother used to do this to me when I was younger and I know that after a while, the laughter doubles you over with abdominal pain. Cindy was gasping now, desperate for air, clawing and kicking at my hands with her free leg. I was seated on the floor behind my desk, holding her foot tight and rubbing the fingers back and forth over the naked soles very lightly. I could see a little better now, and through her thrashing, Cindy's dress had ridden up to her waist and she made no effort to pull it down to a modest level. I could see the well-defined mound through her little white 'baby-doll' panties.
I stopped the tickle-torture, she sat up and I stared into her sparkling, tear-streaked eyes. It seemed as if, for the first time, I was really considering her features, examining her woman/child-like charms to the fullest. She WAS beautiful, very beautiful. She wasn't a girl in my eyes anymore, she was a woman, although a very small one.
"How did you know I was down here?" she asked, snapping me out of my trance. I still held her foot in my hands and unconsciously began massaging it. I didn't want to admit what I was feeling for this 11-year-old, but I definitely was feeling something.
"Hmmmmm... that feels good." She sighed. I broke our gaze and looked down to see my hands rubbing her feet sensuously. I was shocked that I was actually doing it, and before I could think straight, she told me not to stop. I gave in, to this at least, and continued to stroke the foot, occasionally caressing the ankle and calf. Cindy was smiling at me all the while. A radiant, womanly smile that did nothing to quell my feelings for her. What feelings were those? I honestly couldn't say, but at that moment, I thought it was a bizarre kind of love. I was at ease around Cindy. I didn't have to pretend or become a fake human being. Cindy herself was a fresh alternative to most of the pretentious people that I seemed to have to deal with on a daily basis, 'Paper People', I called them: Shallow, no depth whatsoever. Cindy was different, brutally honest, and with an amazing combination of naïveté and intelligence.
I thought that I had worked myself up enough to send her away, go to the bathroom and jerk off 10 or 20 times. I was on fire. My dick felt like a bar of iron in my pants. I playfully tickled her foot again and then let it drop... right onto my very erect dick!
"Donny, you're hard there!" She exclaimed. I was shocked shitless, but my cunt-hungry dick took over all thoughts and actions.
"Where is that?" I asked. I didn't want to push it too hard, too fast, so I just decided to let her fill me in on how much she knew. All the while, never thinking that it would lead to anything more than a little dirty talk.
"Your dick, stupid!"
"How do you know about dicks?" I asked incredulously.
"Don't look at me like that! It's not like I've done it, or anything, but I've heard stories. I even saw my brother doing it in the shower." Her reply slapped me in the face. I couldn't believe it. Not only was I having this conversation with an 11-year-old, but she had seen Johnny, her 15-year-old brother having sex in the shower.
"You saw Johnny Rotten having sex?" Her brother was a real brat-type. We called him Johnny Rotten. He was a good kid though, no worse than I was when I was 15.
"No, not really. He was pulling on it. Whad'ya call it, 'Wanking'?"
"Among other things." I replied. I was a little angry at myself for not using better judgment and shutting this thing down, nipping it in the bud before it got completely out of hand.
"Do you wank it?" She asked. Her bare foot was now sliding up and down my crotch. I didn't want to believe that an 11-year-old could make a conscious decision to foot-fondle someone 13 years her elder.
"Occasionally." I said, feeling more and more uneasy.
"Show me!" She smiled. Damn it was sexy.
"You're a little young, don't you think?" This hurt her, and I knew it would even before I said it, but I had to do something to diffuse the situation. From her dejected expression, I thought it had worked, but it didn't.
"You don't mean that. I saw you glancing..." She looked down to her crotch. Eyeing her panties that were still partially visible to me. Precocious was not the word to describe Cindy, she was more like Intelligent beyond her 11 years. "Trying to say that you weren't looking at me? Too young, huh? What were you thinking of to get you like this?" She asked, pushing her foot harder into my crotch. "I'm not even ticklish... I was just playing." I grabbed her bare foot and feathered my fingers against the sole. Nothing. She was right. She wasn't the least bit ticklish. She was a tremendous actress. Then the sudden realization hit me that this girl, this child, this pre-pubescent beauty, was attempting to seduce me, but something in her plan had gone awry. "Here's mine.She pulled her white panties to the side, showing me the hairless pot of gold beneath. I gasped. My mouth hung open, and my eyes grew wide. It was beautiful. She snapped the panties back to her crotch and started again to foot-massage my dick through my trousers.
I was defeated. My cock was portraying my true feelings. I closed my eyes and put my head back, reveling in the feeling that her small foot was giving me.
"Let me see it," she purred. I complied quickly, much too quickly. Before I could stop myself, I had scooted my pants and shorts down to my knees and tried to catch my breath as my dong stood proudly, inspecting the scene.
She started her manipulations again, sliding the foot down the sides, stopping only to tickle the sensitive underside with her big toe. I don't know how, but she definitely knew what she was doing.
"For someone who's never done it, you sure know how to do it!"
"Johnny Rotten taught me," I snapped back to attention and stared at her, waiting for more. "He was in the shower... He didn't let me touch it, but he did show me how to wank it and where it felt good to touch it. I wanted to touch it... to kiss it, but he wouldn't let me. Anyway, that was that, his wasn't nearly as big as yours." It felt good to hear. I knew that I was of average size, but I guess I appeared monstrous compared to her 15-year-old brother.
"Maybe you could kiss mine." I couldn't stop myself from saying it. This was a point of no return. If she hesitated at all, I'd stop the game, but if this young creature put her lips to my dork, there would be no chance of her getting out of this office a virgin, and I knew it.
She seemed to know how important a moment this was, and she didn't hesitate at all. She quickly maneuvered herself between my legs and grabbed my dingaling with one of her small hands. I could feel her warm breath coating my cock and balls.
"Hard Balls," she giggled into my crotch. She was right, I was as hard as I'd ever been, harder than I thought humanly possible. When Cindy started rubbing my cock, the skin was so tightly wrapped that the friction and the heat made me think that I was going to explode. Not just 'cum' explode, but 'blow up' explode, like a sausage in a microwave.
Without any warning at all, she swooped down and covered my dickhead with her lips. The hot, tight opening sucked and vacuumed the head, while her tongue worked back and forth against the sensitive underside.
I was grunting now, lunging my hips and trying to force my entire cock into her mouth, taking her by the golden hair and fucking her face. Her slim fingers were digging deeply into my thighs. The added pain was pleasurable.
"Ohhhhh Yeahhhhh!" My words were a long whisper. I had never felt anything like it, and I wanted more. I wanted it all. I let go of her hair and started caressing Cindy's back. I could feel the thin straps of the trainer bra and each vertebrae beneath her skin. I used both hands to pull the dress up and over her back. Her young body was beautiful, not that of a child, but of a young woman. Her amazingly narrow waist led to beautiful hips and slim, well-muscled legs. For an 11-year-old, little Cindy was a complete knockout!
I tugged at the bra, the rubber-band-like straps stretching and snapping. I couldn't find the clasp, and believe me, I tried. I thought that maybe it was in the front, but then I thought that that design was reserved for those who want easy access tit action. It couldn't hurt to look. I groped underneath Cindy, her bobbing head still suctioning my cock like a Hoover Deluxe vacuum cleaner. The little triangles of cottony material covered two soft hills of flesh that I couldn't help but squeeze and caress. Cindy moaned when I did this, and the moaning only added to the intensity of the blow-job that I was receiving. I could feel the stream begin to churn and bubble within my balls, and I knew that I couldn't possibly hold out much longer, so I decided to get a little respite.
I pulled Cindy's head up to meet mine. Her eyes were sparkling, and she was smiling, saliva coating her lips. I got to my knees with my cock bouncing majestically.
"Holy shit!" I gasped. In my absent-minded, fuck-lust-filled state, I had forgotten that the door to my office was wide open. I quietly got to my feet, forgetting that my pants were now down to my ankles and tripped trying to get to the door. Cindy laughed, and I laughed too, though not as hard as her. I shimmied my pants, shoes, and socks off and crawled to the door, closing it and locking it. I turned out the fluorescent overhead lights and hoped and prayed that if anyone came looking for me, they would think I was in the downstairs cafeteria or in the computer room upstairs.
I stood up in the new darkness and listened. My computer monitor glowed green against the far wall, but that wasn't really enough to see everything. I could hear Cindy moving about, and then I saw her crawling from behind my desk. She had removed all of her clothes. The sight of her naked form crawling across the floor like a kitten made me want her all the more. She sat on my sofa and crossed her legs provocatively. It was too dark to make her out completely, but I knew that she was smiling, waiting for more.
"Come over here," her voice was a deep, throaty growl. I moved to her, slowly, letting my dick swing to and fro. Cindy reached beside the sofa and turned on the table lamp. We could see each other better now, and we were both smiling widely. Her body was fantastic. Her breasts weren't really breasts, just globs of fat that sat on her chest topped with two perky, pink nipples. I longed to suck them.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I stopped in front of her, hoping that she would take the initiative. And she did. She slid my dick into her hot mouth with one stroke and began a suck action that quickly brought me to the edge again. I pulled out. It was too intense. I wanted her first cumshot to be her best. I caught my breath, kneeling in front of her, spreading her young legs. Just looking at the young hairless slit made me shiver with want. I simply had to eat it. My tongue painted up and down, back and forth across the barren plateau that was her snatch. The soft, hairless, unstretched lips were opening to me, throbbing, and hot, very hot. She raised her legs around my face, and I could feel the silky inner thighs caressing my ears.
"Ohhhhhh lickk meeeeee!" The rosy bud of her clit bared itself, and I latched onto it and began to suckle. This drove Cindy wild. She bucked, tossed and turned, clamping her smooth thighs around my head and thrashing me about with her. I held on to her hips for fear that she'd snap my neck, alternately licking and sucking her little nub. I tried to hold onto her hips, but she was bucking too wildly. She was coming, I assumed for the first time, and it was heaven for her.
I pulled back. I could see the glistening ooze coating her young snatch, her belly and small tits heaving with each breath. Cindy's pussy looked incredibly inviting, and small, very small. It looked too small, in fact, for what I wanted next. I wanted to at least try it, and Cindy sensed it. She really didn't know what came next. All she knew was that I had just made her feel better than she'd ever felt in her whole life. It wasn't enough for me. I still wanted to at least try to slide myself into that virgin, pre-pubescent box. She read my eyes and sensed my apprehensive feelings.
"Yes... I want to." Her voice was confident, and although I knew that she had no idea what was in store for her, I went against my better judgment and all of my good senses and continued on.
I grabbed Cindy's legs, spreading them slowly. She complied. I wasn't sure if this was going to work at all. I knew that this was wrong, very very wrong, but the sight of that stunning young thing with her slender legs spread widely and wanting me made me bypass all good reasoning.
It's usually at this point where I make a conscious decision to wear a condom or not. My mind raced. 'This is an 11-year-old virgin! What disease can she possibly have?' I only gave a passing consideration to the fact that maybe she was old enough to get pregnant. Just the thought of a pre-teen carrying my child was too bizarre even for me to comprehend. Against my better judgment, I didn't ask Cindy if she had started her periods. I just assumed that she had. 'She's got breasts, she's got hips, she must have it.' 6th-grade Health class had finally paid off.
Even after weighing the risks, I didn't care. Neither did my dick. It was even harder than it had been before, if that's possible. It was so hard, and the skin was so tight, it actually hurt. Too much blood flowing through my tube. It pulsed an eerie pink/purple with every heartbeat. I still didn't care. My mind and my dick were in final agreement: YES.
She was waiting now, her legs spread obscenely. She was a very flexible girl, able to put her knees to her budding chest as she doubled herself. I grabbed myself while looking down at her, slowly inching forward so that my dickhead was at the entrance of her miniature box. I so wanted not to hurt her, doing my best to make her first experience a good and memorable one. Then I cursed myself for doing this at all. I'd always been horny, but this was illegal, and immoral, but the tightness that I was feeling was too much to turn back. I was being surrounded, enveloped by the hottest, tightest, most incredible orifice that I had ever experienced.
"Oooooooooo it's so big. Unnnggggghhhh."
"Does it hurt, Cin?"
"Only a little. MMmmmmmmmm." I knew she was lying. It occurred to me that I was going about this the wrong way.I pulled the head of my dick out, watching it emerge from the hairless lips. I got to my feet, pulling the naked Cindy up with me. I brushed her hair from her face and bent to kiss her forehead. "One day," I said to myself, "maybe when she's older, I'll make her mine permanently." I meant it. Cindy hugged me tight, my dick bobbing against her belly. | 4 |
32,979 | Christmas with the Andersons | 'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone.
Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better.
One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people.
Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor.
Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical.
The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday.
Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl.
The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?"
Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college."
Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?"
Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again."
Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?"
Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line.
Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?"
"Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister."
"And she's hands off -- right?"
"Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night."
Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess."
Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!"
"She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for five months?"
Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time.
"The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'"
"She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer.
"Amanda! Amanda Anderson!"
Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching.
"Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello."
Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?"
Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice."
"Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband.
He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever."
Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas.
Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school."
"Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas."
Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood.Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes.
And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent.
Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her.
['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy.
Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone. She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well.
Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching.
Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and, his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement.
Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food.
Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!"
As Bobby reached the top of the stairs he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall.
Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress.
"Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper."
Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor.
"Merry Christmas, Bobby!"
Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked!
Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hosting!"
With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt.
In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed.
"Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up."
Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples.
"Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?"
Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue.
"Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed.
While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend!
"Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!"
Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure.
"Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!"
Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck!
"MOTHER! Just what are you doing?"
Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me."
And Bobby did.
He was soon coming in strong spurts and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up.
Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?"
"Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!"
"You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time and I'll see you later."
Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby.
"You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?"
Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy.
She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?"
Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was.
['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!']
Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth.
Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass!
Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?"
Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed and Mindy rolled over on to her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably, and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends.
"Hey, bud, where the fuck have you been?" Scott asked.
"Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, sure."
"Truth."
Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life!
What a night!
Christmas Eve!
Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush.
Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on, and he could always find a movie or two.
Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents.
After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass.
Christmas Day!
Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents, and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood.
"Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps.
"Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother."
Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts.
All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass, and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day.
Not a creature was stirring...
Everyone had gone to bed early.
Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them.
She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed and put her robe on and went downstairs. The house was quiet, everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream.
There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax.
She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too.
She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple.
['Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.]
As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden.
['I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, 'but this sure feels good!']
Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them.
She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin.
With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed.
She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers.
She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall...
Amanda had Bobby drive her to the mall and drop her off. She had told her mother that she was meeting friends there, but she was lying.
Her first stop was the CD store. It was packed and the Christmas music was blaring over the speakers. Douglas spotted her as she approached the counter.
"Miss, those CDs you ordered came in. Please wait a moment." He called one of the other clerks over to take his place and walked out from behind the counter. He was twenty-six years old and the assistant manager of the store. He was tall, a bit over 6'3" and on the skinny side. He tried to be cool, but he tried even harder to impress his bosses, so he always wore a suit and a tie.
As he approached Amanda, he pointed to the backroom door. "Hi, Amanda. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up, today." He liked young girls and used his ability to pass out CDs and cassettes to get on their friendly side every chance he could.
"I told you I'd be in, Douglas. The CDs are a present."
"Sure. Well, come on in the back."
They stepped into the storeroom and Douglas shut the door behind them. There was a table set up with cold cuts and rolls and cookies. On the shelves were bottles of scotch and bourbon and vodka.
"Having a little party, back here, Douglas?"
"Sure. The boss treated to drinks and food. I can't be away from the front for long, so let's get right to it, Amanda."
Amanda grinned at Douglas, "Did anyone ever tell you how romantic you are?"
"Cut the crap. Let's do it." He opened his pants and lowered his zipper. He was already hard.
Amanda stepped close and curled her fingers around his shaft. "Kiss me, Douglas. I want to be kissed."
Douglas had fucked a lot of teenage girls, but none of them had been as beautiful or as accomplished as Amanda Anderson. Since August, he had been giving her CDs and his hard cock on a weekly basis, and she had been giving him the best sex he ever had.
They kissed and Douglas's hands found their way to Amanda's breasts. She was wearing a vest over a soft turtleneck top. Under the top was only her tits. Her hard nipples were easy to find and Douglas began pulling at them.
"C'mon, Amanda. It's got to be quick, today!"
They separated and Douglas sat down on a small desk chair. Amanda lifted her denim miniskirt and lowered her tiny panties and straddled Douglas on the chair. Within seconds, Douglas's dick was buried to the hilt up Amanda's tight little pussy.
"C'mon, now, and fuck me, Amanda. Give it to me good!" He smiled as he looked at the girl. She was bouncing up and down on his cock. Her eyes were closed tightly and she was breathing hard through her mouth -- moaning and groaning. The bitch truly loved fucking!
As much as he was enjoying it, Douglas felt himself boiling up to blast-off point. And then he was over the top, pulling Amanda down hard on his lap and lifting her by her waist, pumping his cum deep inside her.
He was just about finished coming when...
"What the fuck is going on here?!"
It was the store owner.
Peter Abruzzi was thirty-eight, married with four kids, and ran three stores. He was short and bulky, like an old time runningback. He was a tough businessman and a bastard to work for.
Douglas pushed Amanda off his lap and she fell to the floor. She landed there with her skirt up to her waist and her pretty legs spread wide open, flashing an open, wet beaver at the intruder. She quickly stood up as Douglas was zipping up.
"Ah... Mr. Abruzzi... Ah... I can explain!"
"No you can't, Douglas." He hooked his thumb at the door. "Get back out on the floor. Now!"
When he was gone, Abruzzi looked at the gorgeous teenager standing in front of him. She had paled considerably in the last minute or so and was obviously scared.
"So, tell me..."What were you getting for letting him bone you?"
Amanda was going to lie and say "nothing," but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs."
"A boxed set, eh? You that good?"
"He says I am."
"Is that so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?"
Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head.
"No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me."
Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand.
"Taste it, bitch."
Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were.
Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over."
Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told.
Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussy lips. She was tight and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her!
He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy.
"Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good."
Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt. "Can I keep the CDs, mister?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?"
"Yeah, sure. Thank you."
Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob.
"Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas."
Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room.She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that!
She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing.
Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his penis and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man.
Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs.
"Is this your first time?"
Embarrassed, Amanda nodded.
"If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?"
Again, she nodded.
But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain.
Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her pussy lips and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop fucking Ron Miller.
And fuck him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe.
As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted. He loved fucking doggy-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her.
When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him and she had shown him she could handle the house -- cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her.
But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids."
Her heart was broken.
But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice.
Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussy lips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure!
Just like now!
She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt.
She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry.
OH, GOD, WHAT A COME!
It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god!
She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD!
It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now!
And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over.
Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles.
"Hello, big brother..." | 3 |
33,173 | Sordid Conception - Part 5 | 'Oh, God help me, that was so good,' Brenda thought as they became still. She could feel her womb awash in Brad's seed, and she said a quick silent prayer that she would become pregnant. She'd wanted the actual conception to be memorable, and this certainly would be.
"Thank you," she whispered toward Brad's ear.
"Have you two...finished?" Brad's mother's voice called.
'I forgot all about her...she heard everything!' Brenda thought, her face becoming red with embarrassment. She gave a push up at Brad to get him moving out and off of her, and she pushed at the inside of his elbow, trying to get him to remove his hand from under her nightshirt.
"Yes," she answered Mrs. Larrington's question.
Brad pushed himself up off her, going back on his knees as his deflating cock slipped out of her, the covers falling down behind his ass. His eyes dropped down, and Brenda realized he was staring right at her spermy sex. Quickly, she pulled the nightshirt down just as his mother came into sight on his left.
"Are you all right?" his mother said kindly.
"Yeah..." Brenda answered, "uh...Brad did his job."
"I certainly did!" Brad said, not even moving to cover himself. And in front of his own mother!
"Brad, get your shorts on and let us be alone, if you don't mind," his mother said, keeping her gaze averted.
"All right," he said toward his mother. But before he moved off the bed, he reached down to rub her left knee and said, "I hope that gives you what you want."
He said it with such sincerity, Brenda thought, and in the emotional state she was in, she teared up.
Brad climbed off the bed without putting on his shorts. He just picked them up off the bed and walked out of the room.
"You sure you're O.K.?" his mother asked, sitting beside her to stroke her forehead.
"I feel good, Sharon, really I do."
"Well, let's get your hips elevated," Sharon said, taking some of the pillows in her hands. In a few moments, they had several pillows and the towel under her.
"I know this position feels stupid, but I want you to stay like this for about an hour," Sharon said, again sitting down beside her to rub her arm. Mrs. Larrington had a look on her face like she had at her wedding to Chris. "I'm very proud of you, Brenda...you're doing a good thing for the family."
"Sharon, I hope I didn't embarrass you before..." Brenda started, then trailed off.
"No, why would you think that?"
"I didn't maintain much control before...I was too verbal, wasn't I?"
Sharon laughed softly. "Brenda, I've had two kids. When you make a baby, it's always like that. We talked about that before. Now, I want you to just relax and think good thoughts until I come back. Who knows, something could be happening in you right now."
Sharon leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then, she stood and headed to leave the bedroom.
"I'll be back in a bit," she promised as she closed the door behind her.
Brenda closed her eyes and daydreamed about the baby...and Brad.
'Brad's going to be impossible to live with,' Sharon predicted as she walked down to his bedroom. 'He'll be cockier than ever after his performance with Brenda.'
Sharon smiled. That wasn't so bad for her.
She opened the door to his room but found it empty. She walked back to the staircase and went downstairs. She found her son in the kitchen making a tuna salad sandwich. He gave her a shit-eating grin when she walked into the room.
"That Brenda is hot-to-trot," he said excitedly. "Man, I had her going!"
"Brad, keep your voice down," she said. He didn't realize how loud he was and in a still house...
"Come on, loosen up, Mom," he said quieter. "Did you hear her? She came twice!"
Sharon felt herself getting mad and she didn't know why. Then, she realized she was jealous. That was a stupid thing to be - Brad would still be hers after all this was through. But it still sort of stung.
"Of course, I heard her. I was sitting right there," she said as she leaned back against the counter.
"So?...did you like listening to us?" Brad said with a wink as he closed up the bread bag.
"What do you think?" she said evasively. She was reluctant to tell him how turned on she had become listening to Brenda's moans and the squeaking bed.
"I think you liked it, Mom," he said, walking up to her. He was three inches taller than she, so she tilted her head back slightly to keep looking at his eyes. They were full of mischief, even after the energetic sex he'd just had upstairs. "I bet it got you all hot too."
He grabbed her breasts through her blouse, and she had to stop him with a swipe of her hand.
"Brad, you know better. Not where someone could see." One of her greatest fears was that someone from a neighboring house would spot her and her son doing something illicit. The chances were slim because the homes in their neighborhood up sat on two and a half acre lots. But it was too chancey. "Besides, Brenda is upstairs."
"She's up on the blocks, right?" He was referring to the elevated hips.
"Yes, but..."
"Then we don't have to worry about her," he said, and he pinned her against the counter with his body.
"Brad, stop it!"
"Sssshh...I just want to check you out," he said with a chuckle, his right hand going to her bare leg below the hem of her skirt. He began to slide it upward onto her thigh, his wrist pulling the front of her skirt up with it.
She didn't make another move to stop him. He was still high from doing Brenda, and she had no way to get loose, if she wanted to. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he pressed his fingers into the thin cotton panties covering her sex.
"I feel a little wetness here," Brad said with a leering smile. She kept quiet as he looped his fingers in the bottom of her panties but drew in a sharp breath as he wormed a finger into her pussy. "Nice and slick, Mom...did you finger yourself while you watched us?"
"No...but I wanted to." She didn't feel terribly embarrassed to tell him that now. She couldn't deny what he was feeling with his finger.
Brad leaned away from her, pulling his finger from her forbidden furrow. He took her by the hand and started to pull her across the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Come on...come back here."
He walked her through the back entrance hall that contained her washer and dryer and into the back bathroom, closing the door behind them. Immediately to his left was the bathtub which had a window over it. He stepped into it with one foot and pulled down the sash which would stop anyone from looking in.
"Brad, why don't we wait, honey?" she said as he moved toward her. "Once Brenda is gone, we'll have the rest of the day."
"Let me take care of you," he said, pulling her skirt up. "You're the only one that hasn't gotten off yet in this crazy house."
He steered her back against the wall beside the toilet. She grasped the hem of her raised skirt and held it up as he hooked his fingers in the top of her panties. He went to his knees on the shag toilet rug, pulling her panties down to mid-thigh as he went down. He slid her panties down to her ankles, his eyes staring at her pussy.
'This is not a good idea with Brenda in the house...but...' Sharon told herself, but she put aside reason and wantonly untangled her left low-heeled shoe from her panties and propped her foot up on the toilet lid, giving her hunky son the open thighs he wanted.
Brad scooted closer, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs to hold her ass as he buried his face against her damp sex mound. She sucked in an excited breath as her son began to suck on her pussy. She started to moan as Brad worked her furry slit with his tongue and lips.
'Brenda can't hear us...she's way upstairs,' Sharon told herself, letting natural moans escape her lips. 'I'm going to cum soon...all over my son's tongue...and then I'll go back upstairs...and no one will know!'
"MMMMMMmmmmmMMMMM.......MMMMMmmmOOOOOHH...AAH....
ooohhhh....mmmMMMMMM....uuuuuhhhhh....OOOOOOHH!The small bathroom filled with her unrestrained encouraging groans as she began to grind her cunt on her son's face, his hands pulling her feminine furrow tight on his knowing mouth.
She pulled the top of her skirt tight against her stomach and looked down at the fleshy folds of her mons as they rubbed on Brad's mouth and nose. His eyes were open, looking up at her, egging her on. She felt his tongue press into the oily hole of her pussy, felt him breathing like an enraged bull right up her cunt!
"OHBRAD!" she cried, much louder than she wanted, as she closed her eyes and grabbed handfuls of her son's long hair. Her skirt, forgotten, dropped down to cover his head. She began to really fuck herself on Brad's face, rolling her hips crazily, feeling his nose raking back and forth on her clit.
"MMMMMMHHHHHMMM....OOOOHHHHHHHEEEWWWWW!" she moaned loudly as her pussy exploded in release. She felt Brad sucking and sucking, felt him pushing her back against the wall as her shoe slipped off the toilet seat and she threatened to keel over on him. Her thighs shivered as Brad tongued her beautifully down through the pent-up passion that his episode with Brenda had created.
A minute later, she raised her skirt back up and watched as Brad kissed her matted pubes.
"That ought to hold you over for a while," he said with a smile.
Brenda opened her eyes as the bedroom door opened. Sharon walked in, smiling as she usually was.
"How are we doing?" Sharon said, walking around the bed.
"Just fine."
"I think you can get up now. Would you like to take a shower?"
"No, I'll take one at home," Brenda said, swinging her feet onto the floor as she sat up. "I think I'll just go and relax until Chris gets home tonight."
"And then....." Sharon said as she helped Brenda stand. They had talked about what she should do later.
"And then, I'll make love to Chris. And we'll make a baby." Both knew that any baby would be Brad's, but there would always be the possibility that it would be her husband's. And that would be something to hold onto in the years ahead.
"That's my girl," Sharon said, giving her a hug. "Now, go and get dressed, and I'll see you downstairs."
Sharon headed back downstairs, and Brenda wondered what had put the light gait in her mother-in-law's step. She marked it up to the thought of having a grandchild to spoil.
Brenda turned and went into the bathroom to put her clothes back on.
Brad gave his mother's ass a quick feel as she walked by the kitchen table. She slapped his hand away and gave him a nasty look as the sound of feet descending the stairs announced the imminent appearance of Brenda in the kitchen.
'She won't be slapping my hand once she ushers Brenda out,' Brad thought to himself. He'd given her a good orgasm with his mouth, but he knew he would be able to convince her into a more fulfilling fucking. His dick was hard just thinking about slipping his meat to his mother all afternoon.
Brenda stepped into the kitchen, dressed again in the clothes she had arrived in. He saw the way Brenda looked at him - there was something in that look. He'd definitely won her over! She was looking at him like a love-sick puppy.
"Brenda, you look absolutely radiant," his mother said, laying it on thick, he thought. Brenda didn't look all that different from when she came, except maybe her hair, which was sort of mussed up.
"I feel good," Brenda said. "Let's keep our fingers crossed, huh?"
"We certainly will. You've got everything? Okay then...I'll walk you out," his mother began to take Brenda toward the front door.
"Thanks, Brad," Brenda said over her shoulder.
"My pleasure," he replied, rising to his feet to follow them.
His mother kept up a constant stream of good thoughts and suggestions on how Brenda should spend the rest of her day as she walked Brenda to her car. Brenda got behind the wheel, started the car and, after a motherly peck on the cheek from his mother, she backed out of the driveway as his mother came up the stairs to join him on the porch.
"Bye, dear!" his mother called as Brenda put the car in Drive and started down the road.
"Bye, Brenda....thanks for the fuck!" he said only loud enough for his mother to hear. She gave him a wry smile.
"Brad, why don't you thank me as well? I'm the one that arranged the whole thing," she said as she went by him, heading back inside.
"Hell, Mom, I plan to thank you all day long," he boasted as he closed the front door behind them and wrapped his arms around her from the back.
"Brad! Not out here," she whined as he pushed his boner into the small of her back.
"Come on, Mom. You liked it in the bathroom. Let's christen the living room." He wanted to get wild after being with Brenda and doing his mother on the family couch sounded like a hot time. She was definitely paranoid about doing anything sexual downstairs, but this was probably going to be his best chance. She wanted it as much as he. Keeping his left arm wrapped around her waist, he dove his right hand up under her skirt. "No one can see in the windows. The house is darker than the outside. Someone would have to be on the front porch to have any chance of seeing us. And we'd see any car that pulled up."
"Ooohhhh, Braaaddd!" his mother said with a shudder as his fingers teased her unpantied cunt. She hadn't put her panties back on after the bathroom cunnilingus session. "No, let's go upstairs, baby!"
"No! We're going to do it right here on the couch," he said, walking them both toward the sofa. "Come on, do it with me here and I'll do whatever you want the rest of the day."
'That got her!' he thought. She seemed to relax, stopped resisting him. They were in front of the couch, and she began to spin in his arm. He let her turn around until she was facing him, her pretty face upturned to his. Her smile told him he had won.
"Anything I want?" she said, her hand finding the bulge in his shorts.
"Yeah, whatever you want. I'll do it." He wondered what she had in mind, but whatever it was, he was sure to enjoy it too. He moved past her, pulled down his shorts and underwear, and sat down on the couch. His stiff cock wagged drunkenly above his belly, beckoning his mother. "Suck me awhile and I'll watch for anyone pulling in the driveway. And then you can sit on it backwards and keep a lookout while we fuck."
His mother looked out the front window, then back to him.
"You've got it all figured out, don't you?" she said, unzipping the back of her skirt. With a little shake of her hips, the skirt pooled around her ankles. She made no move to take off her blouse, which was just long enough to hide her pussy from his view. "I'm only doing this to make you my slave for the rest of the day. Don't think we're going to be doing this all the time down here."
He opened his knees wider as his mother stepped out of her skirt and dropped to her knees between his legs.
"SHIT!" Brenda yelled at the steering wheel of her coasting car. She couldn't believe that she hadn't checked the gasoline meter when she got in the car that morning. Now here it was, pegged on EMPTY, and she turned her car off the road far enough to not obstruct other drivers.
'Okay, just relax,' she thought as she turned the dead car off. 'Don't let this ruin a memorable day.'
The nearest gas station was near the freeway. She thought it was at least a mile away. There were several houses nearby she could go to and use a phone. But it was only about a quarter mile back to Sharon's house. She decided to walk back and ask Sharon for a ride to the gas station or maybe borrow some gas that Brad might have for his cycle.
She stuffed her bag out of sight under the passenger seat, got out, locked the car and started walking back to her mother-in-law's home.
"They'll be surprised to see me again," she muttered.
"Mmmmmm....nice and slow...uuhh," Brad grunted as his horny mother slowly swallowed all the prick she could, her lips sliding more than halfway down his shaft as he watched through half-closed eyes.
She wasn't just blowing him - she was making love to his cock. She'd used her tongue on his cockhead for almost five minutes, swabbing his puffy glans with butterfly licks or twirling her spitty tongue around his head like she was trying to keep an ice cream cone from dripping.
Now she was using her whole mouth, nursing on his manhood with her eyes closed, her right hand lightly holding his shaft near the base, her left hand hefting his scrotum lovingly.
'Damn, she can suck cock!' he thought as she drew her lips up until just the very tip of his head was still inside her mouth, then she began a slow nibbling, her teeth lightly scraping down his sensitive head tissue until she'd reclaimed the whole fat knob. It was as she began to swallow him a second time that Brad noticed Brenda walking up the driveway!
He froze for a second or two in surprise. She was walking, she hadn't driven up to the house. They both would have heard her car.
He was going to pull his mother off him and warn her to grab her skirt and run but......then his mind worked very quickly.
He was going to warn his mother so their secret would remain intact. But they already had a secret on Brenda. Brenda wouldn't tell on them - couldn't tell on them! And his mother had said a number of times that she wished she could tell someone about their secret love.
And Brenda....well, she was a wild girl. She'd let another guy fuck her to get pregnant, her husband's brother no less! And Chris had told him that Brenda had been a loose girl before they got married. How would she take the sight of her mother-in-law doing the nasty with her son?
'One way to find out,' he thought, placing his hands gently on top of his mother's head, watching Brenda come up the stairs to the porch.
'That's it, Brenda. Look in the window!....just look in.Outside, Brenda came right up the steps and walked right by the window without looking in. She was heading for the door now, and Brad began to silently will her to just walk right in. "Don't use the doorbell!...Come on, Brenda...you're one of the family. Just walk in!"
The outside storm door opened, and Brad knew it was going to happen - Brenda was going to walk in! The opening of the outside door had not been silent. His mother started to pull her mouth up his cock quickly. He wasn't sure if it was because she sensed something or she was just going to shift into a quicker sucking. He pushed down on the back of his mother's head, holding her mouth around him as the doorknob turned on the inside door.
His mother definitely knew they were not alone as the front door opened. The sound of the door latch popping open, the clanging of the mini-blinds against the door glass, the immediate increase in the volume of the birds chirping outside.
The door was opened, and Brenda was coming through it. His mother was raising up her body, but she couldn't go anywhere with him holding her head. Brenda saw them, her mouth dropped open, and he let go of his mother's head.
"Brenda!" he said loudly, acting totally surprised.
Brenda stood there, agape, as she watched Sharon scramble off her knees, her hand grabbing her skirt off the floor as she spun toward the doorway. Brad remained still on the couch after shouting her name. He was naked. His erection...his glistening erection...stood proudly upward.
"Brenda?!" Sharon said, her eyes round as saucers.
"Calm down, Mom. Brenda's not going to tell," Brad said, standing up slowly. He didn't make any move to cover himself, and Brenda would have enjoyed looking at his naked, buffed body had she not been so shaken up by what she had witnessed. "Brenda, close the door and have a seat. We got to have a talk."
Brenda used her hand to push the door shut and watched as Brad sat his mother down on the couch. Sharon looked very white.
"Mom, everything is cool," Brad reassured her as he finally grabbed his shorts and pulled them on. He motioned her to sit on the other end of the couch, and she went around the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. "Brenda's not going to tell anyone. Not after this morning...think about it."
Brenda realized that Brad was right. How could she tell anyone after letting Brad fuck her?
"Sharon, I swear I won't tell," she promised. "I ran out of gas..."
Sharon had a hand over her eyes but she spoke at last.
"You must think I'm terrible," she said weakly.
"No, I don't, Sharon...I don't even know what led up to this," she said, fishing for an explanation.
"Let's tell her, Mom," Brad said, standing on the far side of the coffee table with his hands on his hips. "You've always wanted to tell someone about us. I think Brenda's going to be real sympathetic." Brad actually winked at her! "I think we ought to get everything out in the open. None of us are ever going to be able to tell any of this to anyone else, so why pretend about what's going on? Brenda, me and Mom have been having sex for, I guess, a year and a half now. I came on to her first...she's the best looking mother around, I don't think anyone can argue that. The thought of doing her sort of obsessed me back then...and it's better than I could even have imagined...fucking her, I mean."
Brenda looked at Sharon, who was sitting just down the couch from her. Sharon looked at her and then back to her son as he went on.
"Mom has been keeping a real tight leash on things up until now. She'd only let me fuck her once or twice a week. But then she got the idea of letting me try to make the baby with you. Ever since then, she's been wanting me all the time...this baby stuff excites her."
"Brad, do you have to get so..." Sharon said, her voice sounding exasperated.
"Sharon, it's O.K.," she said. "Brad's right. Why should we keep any secrets?" She decided to tell a secret of her own. "Let me tell you both, right here and now, that I agreed to this insemination plan at first because I wanted a child. And I still do. But when we were upstairs...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's obvious to me that I had some feelings for Brad that even I wasn't aware of because I had these wild sexual dreams about Brad all last week...I mean really wild. So, I didn't come here with the good intentions that you might have thought...I came to have sex...for more than just procreation."
"Yeah, you were hot for it, all right!" Brad said, stepping over the coffee table and sitting down on it, facing both of them. "I told Mom about how you got off when I stuck it in."
Brad's exuberance for the subject was pretty stimulating to Brenda. She never would have thought that she would admit something as personal as that in front of Sharon, but she did.
"That's true...I couldn't stop myself. I thought I would, and that's why I told you I was worried about it, Sharon."
"Brad has that effect on me, too," Sharon said, beginning to open up. "I suppose I should spill my guts too since everyone else is being so open...I know what Brad and I do is not right in the eyes of the world...but we both love it. Him because his hormones are going crazy and me because he makes me feel younger, I guess."
"Come on, Mom...the truth now," Brad said, moving his hand onto one of her knees. "Tell Brenda you like fucking me because I'm your boy."
"I think she knows that that is a part of it," Sharon said, putting her hand over his. "Brad's not telling the truth, not the whole truth. He did make a pass at me, but...I acted on it after first refusing him. And...I've never regretted it." Sharon was getting herself together. "We both know it's wrong, but it feels so right...that must sound crazy."
'Wow, this is getting really interesting!' Brenda thought. This whole thing was mushrooming into a chance to take off the gloves and do the things she wanted to with Brad. What could Sharon say about that now? She could fuck Brad all she wanted now that she knew their secret.
"It must be something special...it's too wild to think about!" Brenda said, unable to stop it from coming out. Sharon was getting all the cock she wanted from her own son!
'I can't believe how well Brenda is taking all this,' Sharon thought, watching her daughter-in-law acting excited about the taboo relationship she had learned about. 'And I never would have thought she wanted Brad like I do...as a lover.'
When she'd been caught sucking her son's cock, she'd felt like her whole world had shattered. But Brad had pointed out the one thing that was their saving grace - Brenda couldn't tell anyone even if she'd wanted to. And Brenda hadn't run out of the place screaming bloody murder; in fact, she'd acted more curious than anything.
Brad's hand began to stroke around in a circle under her own, moving slowly up onto her thigh. She looked at him and could see he was enjoying this whole thing! Then he dropped the bomb.
"See, Mom? Brenda's a kindred spirit," Brad said, kneading her leg with his fingers. "How about we all go upstairs?"
'God, what is Brad proposing?!' Sharon thought as she looked at him. She felt pretty good about the way Brenda had taken learning about the secret that she had kept for so long, but certainly Brad didn't think that Brenda would...
"I might be up for that," Brenda said, and Sharon whipped her head to look at her daughter-in-law. Brenda was looking at Brad, smiling. "But only if we all agree."
"Wait a minute..." she started to say.
"Come on, Mom. Let's all go upstairs. I think Brenda would like to watch us make love. Maybe as much as you liked to be in the room when we fucked earlier."
"Is that true, Sharon?" Brenda asked, her voice sounding huskier. "Is that why you stayed?"
Sharon looked back at Brenda. She couldn't deny what she had felt, sitting in that chair, listening to their lovemaking.
"I found it exciting...I did."
"Could you do it with Brad...with me in the room?" Brenda asked.
Brenda's eyes looked deep into hers. The whole dynamic of the situation was changing, like being swept up in a stream that she was powerless to stop. And she wasn't sure she wanted to stop it! She'd wanted to be able to tell someone - now she had the opportunity to show someone and to watch Brad with Brenda. Everything revolved around her answer...
"I could try," she said simply, opening the floodgates.
"Let's go upstairs!" Brad said excitedly.
Sharon let Brad lead her upstairs...with Brenda right behind them. | 4 |
33,550 | The Tickleopps Tourist Attraction | 'Do you really organize tours like that?' Briget Marlow asked, unable to believe the story of the bizarre tours she was being told about by Mark, a fellow travel agent she met earlier in the day at the conference they were both attending.
'Don't you believe me?' Mark grinned at her.
'I don't know...' Briget smiled uncomfortably, unsure of whether he was playing a teasing mind game with her or not. It was difficult to tell, but Briget was intrigued by the thought implanted in her mind by the weird story Mark told her. And after all, who was she to disagree? Just because "tours for perverts" wasn't ever discussed in the travel agent's course she'd recently graduated from, didn't mean they didn't exist. She absently toyed with the blue plastic swizzle stick in her glass, using it to chase an ice cube around the bottom of the empty glass.
'You can come up to my room and see the tools of my trade, if you like...' Mark said, casually sipping his drink and watching discreetly for her reaction. He had a good feeling about her. It wasn't just that she was attractive - that was something which had virtually become a prerequisite for employment in the competitive world of travel. No, it was something deeper than that.
Mark Grayson had only just met Briget that day and yet he felt as if he'd known her for ages. She gave off a certain vibe to him, like discreet signals that he sometimes felt only he could read. They probably weren't intentional on Briget's part. In fact, he'd have been not nearly as taken with her if they were deliberate. He found no joy in brazenly provocative girls, the ones with short skirts and high opinions of themselves who paraded around full of self-confidence almost daring men to approach them. They invariably turned out being exactly like the personas they projected, and he hated that. He liked mystery. And secrecy. Any girl who brazenly leads men on, particularly where sex is the goal, only does so because she's too unimaginative to get it any other way. That's what he thought, at least.
It had been twenty years since he was in high school, but he still vividly remembered the first time he started to understand himself and what it was he found desirable in the opposite sex. There was a girl in his senior class - Anna - who nobody seemed interested in. He couldn't understand why, although she was clearly not like other girls in his class. She wasn't ugly or anything, though she made it difficult to tell sometimes with the dowdy choice of clothes she wore. And she wasn't dumb. Quite the opposite, in fact, and yet, this didn't make her a part of the nerdy group. She didn't seem to fit in at all and just kept to herself all the time. In some ways, Mark thought this intimidated guys more than anything. It intimidated him at the time mostly because he really wanted to get to know her but didn't know how to get past the layer of quite shyness which seemed to cloak her. None of the other guys knew what to make of her either, so they ignored her and spent all their school days chasing after the cheerleaders, who invariably led everybody on until that crucial moment when they'd get all prissy and spurn whoever it was who'd been chasing them, leaving the poor bastards with blue balls and their tongues hanging out. Mark quickly tired of this kind of humiliation. Begging just wasn't in his character - not even as a teenager.
Briget reminded Mark of Anna, although she was quite a bit more stylish. He had a thing about grooming and women who took a bit of care in their appearance, and Briget was as pretty as a porcelain doll with silky blonde hair neatly framing her roundish, soft face and a blush of pale rouge that was almost indiscernible from her natural, blemish-free skin. All of this merely enhanced her most alluring feature - the bluest of eyes that sparkled, not just with a vibrancy caught in the yellowish light of the hotel bar, but with the honesty of a young person to whom everything in life seemed new and exciting. It was this sign that Mark valued most highly. It was a look that few women have, particularly those like Briget, who Mark guessed to be in her late twenties. The look of innocence was usually lost in the teenage years or soon after, so anybody older than that who still has it simply had to be extraordinary. They're like gems that, in their raw state, seem lackluster and without value. But all it takes is a little work. A bit of chipping away at the protective shell, some rubbing in the right places, and that arcane wisdom which only experience can instill certain people to make a craftsman like Mark.
Briget, perhaps because her senses were slightly dulled from the drinks she'd been having in the hotel bar with Mark, considered his invitation back to his room. There was no denying he was propositioning her - he couldn't have been more direct, even if it was almost comical in the way it had been made. She smiled inwardly at the funny memories of ridiculous shows on television where the man offers a girl the hackneyed line "come up to my room and see my etchings". She never thought of herself as being fully capable to deal with any proposition, particularly if there was a risk of intimate relations. However, nobody had ever used the "come up to my room" line on Briget and she felt, maybe because it just sounded so funny, that it might be okay to agree. Surely nobody ever used that line seriously, she thought to herself.
It only took a moment's contemplation before Briget agreed to accompany him to his room, though by doing so, a nagging voice in her conscience suddenly spoke to warn her of the possible dangers. It was a familiar voice, one she usually obeyed, but this time she made a conscious decision to ignore it and put it out of her mind. By the time she arrived at his room, her thoughts of caution had evaporated and were replaced with a faint tingle in the pit of her stomach of eagerness to submit to his charm, should things go in that way. Predictions of this nature weren't something Briget was very good at. But she had to at least assume that might happen and, without dwelling on the thought at that time, there seemed a twinge of feeble, indefinable hope.
Mark casually invited Briget into his hotel room and gently closed the door. This was always the most difficult moment of any new encounter - locking the door. He was conscious of the fact most girls, if not all, innately understand the significance of this subtle action. He was aware girls generally reacted one of two ways. Either they'd suddenly begin questioning his motives, to which he'd usually find himself passing it off with some joke knowing that he'd be disappointed and unfulfilled by the end of the evening, even if the girl didn't walk out on him, or she'd accept it without discussion. Whether or not a girl understands the symbolic nature of locking the door, to remain silent at this juncture is to tacitly say "I am your prisoner". It's never something openly stated because this kind of girl is the kind Mark knew and loved. Too timid and polite to object.He discreetly watched Briget for her reaction, which was one of almost visible trepidation, but she was silent as he'd hoped. In fact, she smiled so sweetly, nervously, almost naively as if to tell him she'd never done anything like this, that Mark had to believe she would be even more delightfully submissive than he could have dreamed.
'You've got a lovely big room here,' Briget said, mentally noting and comparing it with the cheaper, smaller room paid for by the travel agency that employed her.
'There's more...' Mark said, waving his hand towards the door next to the mini bar. 'It's a double room...there's another through there.'
'Really?' Briget replied, genuinely curious. 'Are you staying with someone else?'
'No, of course not, Briget...I'm the boss!' Mark laughed heartily, not just to make Briget feel at ease but because he loved the innocent way in which she asked. It was obvious to him why she asked. She wanted to know whether or not they'd be disturbed. He laughed quietly again to himself.
'You mean...you're paying for all of this room for yourself?' Briget asked, watching as Mark leaned over and tapped some keys on the computer he had set up on the coffee table. The hushed sound of a dial tone and then the familiar squeal of an internet connection filled the quiet room.
'Yes...that's right. I told you downstairs...my business is very successful,' Mark said. He was distracted for a moment as he flipped through the screens of email messages he'd received.
Briget quietly moved around the room behind him, taking the opportunity to glance out the window at the sub-tropical tranquility down below. She felt the voice of her conscience buzzing in her ears again as she thought back to their earlier conversation in the bar.
The question formed in her mind but she was reluctant to ask it. 'You weren't joking about those tours?'
Mark stopped what he was doing and looked back over his shoulder at Briget. 'No...' he smiled warmly. 'What made you think I was joking?'
'I don't know...' Briget mumbled, shrugging her shoulders and feeling a little foolish for asking. 'Are you saying you really do organize those tours you told me about?'
'Yes. Does that bother you?' Mark asked, casually returning to his computer task. There was a long silence.
'I guess not,' Briget said, trying to sound confident in her answer.
'It's very lucrative...here...come and see for yourself...' Mark said, pulling a chair close to the coffee table and inviting Briget to sit at the screen.
Briget smiled as best she could, uncertain that she wanted to know any more at all about Mark's strange business, but she quietly demurred and sat for him. 'What are these?' she asked, squinting slightly as she looked at the screen.
'These are messages sent by my clients...click on the folder labeled "Fantasies"...' he said, standing back slightly so he could observe her reactions without her seeing.
Briget nervously placed her hand on the mouse and directed the arrow to the small yellow icon, clicking it gently and watching as the screen filled with about a dozen subfolders. Each was simply numbered with a short code, making Briget feel a little unsettled with cautious interest.
'Let me tell you something before you go any further, Briget...these are my clients...my valued customers...what you are about to see is strictly confidential...do you understand?'
Briget felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, twisting uncomfortably as if to warn her she shouldn't go any further. But her curiosity had been aroused and she felt compelled to continue, sensing that the mystery details contained in the folders might shock her but anxiously wanting to explore further. She mumbled her agreement to maintain discretion and felt for a moment like an athlete waiting for the starter's signal to open the first folder.
'This is Mr Dawson's idea of a great holiday, Briget...' Mark said, knowing in advance what she was about to read. He waited silently as she slowly read through the short list on the screen.
Briget read the first line quickly but suddenly stopped before she got to the end of it. She wasn't at all prepared for what she read and had to re-read it to make sure it said what she thought it said. 'Eeew!' she gasped, feeling awkward about the weird image that flashed to mind.
'What's the matter? Does Mr Dawson's fantasy disturb you, Briget?' Mark smirked after first mocking her reaction in a childish voice.
'Do people really do that?' Briget asked, her voice filled with incredulous doubt.
'What? A grown man wanting to dress up as a schoolboy and have his backside thrashed by a big, angry woman? What's wrong with that?' Mark laughed loudly, cajoling Briget to see the funny side of it.
'I don't know...' Briget said after a minute. Mark was obviously exaggerating about what the strange man had written - he only said that he wanted to be spanked by a woman, not thrashed, but Mark had made it sound even more ridiculous. She took a deep breath and made an effort to sound more worldly than she really was. 'I suppose there's nothing wrong with that...what people do for...you know...' she couldn't bring herself to say 'pleasure'. She pointed the arrow to the next folder and clicked.
'Ah! Mr Fujuma!' Mark said, his voice now alive with a playful humor. Briget burst out giggling as she read his message. 'He says...' she put her hand to her mouth and tried to hold back an uncontrollable laugh. 'He says...I love to wear a diaper under my clothes when I go out. I want you to find me a woman who will dress me like a baby and watch while I pee my pants...' Briget shrieked with laughter, her eyes filling with tears while she gasped for breath.
Mark laughed with her, feeling pleased with her reaction so far. He knew by the way she was laughing that she would be intrigued by the next client and, without rushing her, he urged her to go to the next folder. He didn't say anything as she opened it and began reading. Briget was still having little fits of giggles from reading about the fruity Mr Fujuma but, as he expected, these quickly subsided as the content of the next message sank in.
'Well...what do you think?' Mark eventually asked, waiting while Briget read the message for a second time.
'Mmmm...' was all Briget could say. She was dumbstruck, not just by what she read, but by the unexpected shiver that made her skin prickle with goosebumps.
'He's prepared to pay a good deal of money to find what he's looking for...' Mark wasn't sure the money aspect would appeal to Briget, but he was relieved that she meekly asked the fee he charged for his service and so he told her.
'That much?' Briget said, sounding unsure of whether the amount was good or bad. It actually didn't interest her. What did interest her was the peculiar request he'd made. She glanced again at his name, Jeremy, at the bottom of the short message and then scanned back up quickly to look again at the line which had really caught her interest. He said he wanted Mark to "find him a new girl to play with..."
'Are you interested?' Mark asked.
Briget wasn't ready to know what to say. She was still engrossed in a tantalizing daydream which suddenly sprang to mind after she read what Jeremy had gone on to say - "I want to spend a weekend with this girl exploring every part of her..."
'It doesn't sound too strange to me...' Mark whispered.
Briget wasn't wanting to hear that just at the moment. As far as she was concerned, it was strange and thoroughly bizarre, especially the next part - "I want somebody who is NOT willing to have the most intimate recesses of her sensuality investigated...someone tied up and helpless while I give them the TICKLEOPPS treatment to reveal their most hidden desires..."
There was no doubt in Briget's mind that this weirdo wanted to torture somebody by tickling them, a concept that was too freakish to believe, but one which made her head reel with a totally new and astonishing thrill. Briget had never given much thought to things such as bondage, mostly because she tried to keep such thoughts out of her mind. She now felt confused. As far as she had known, bondage was only ever spoken about in either joking terms, like it was some weird abnormal fetish of harmless weirdos or, more disturbingly, in conjunction with a serious crime like rape. Both uses it seemed alarmed a sense of guilt in Briget. The thought of being considered a weirdo was not a pleasant one and being bound and made vulnerable and helpless was, on the one hand, highly arousing for unknown reasons but also frightening when she considered the dangerous possibility of being hurt or even killed by some wild lunatic. But Jeremy didn't seem to be a lunatic, at least, not in a violent kind of way. After all, how could tickling somebody be dangerous?
'Come on Briget...it'll be fun!' Mark said, throwing caution to the wind and gently taking hold of Briget's wrist to help her to her feet.
'What?' Briget was suddenly paralyzed with dread. It was immediately obvious what Mark was suggesting, though she couldn't think straight to voice a proper objection. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, unwilling as she was, across to the door connecting the neighboring room. 'You can't mean me...' she was mumbling as he pushed her, gently but firmly through the door.
'Come along Briget...you know you want to...' Mark smiled kindly at her as if to reassure her there was nothing wrong with him slipping her white cotton blazer off her shoulders.
'No...I don't...really...' Briget's voice trembled, her attention caught by the sight of bondage paraphernalia lying on the large bed in the center of the room. She struggled, twisting her wrists which he gripped securely in his hands, but didn't resist enough to prevent him removing her blazer completely.
'Yes you do...' Mark laughed happily, realizing that her reluctance was more show than real.
'No...I don't...'Briget,' said Mark as he released his grip on her wrists and quickly unbuckled the broad leather belt of her modest skirt.
'I don't...' Briget whispered, almost breathlessly, as Mark pulled her toe-to-toe and pressed his face into the side of her neck. His warm breath and gentle nibbling made her shiver, and she instantly swooned, lolling her head back while he lightly kissed her beneath the ear.
'Yes you do, Briget...' he said, briefly lashing her ear with his tongue. He could feel her melting, her hands no longer pushing away his, which were blindly unhitching her skirt. It fell silently to the floor around her ankles, the heavy belt buckle tinkling quietly as it dropped on the carpet.
'I don't...' Briget sighed, her eyes closed and body trembling apprehensively as Mark's fingers groped for the small pearly buttons of her blouse. He was being very hasty in his undressing of her, yet this seemed to make it feel more sensuous than she could have imagined. In fact, Briget sensed that if she was given the opportunity to think, she'd break free from him and run from the room, and so she found herself secretly willing him to be quicker, compliantly shedding her blouse when prompted by Mark's peeling it open.
Mark knew he had her once he caught sight of her breasts, neatly cupped in the filigree scallops of lace holding them. The shadowy dark circles of her nipples were already displaying signs of arousal, with the small buds pointed tensely in the fabric. He hooked his fingers into the elastic between her breasts and led her closer to the bed, pulling it just roughly enough to tacitly convince Briget of where he wanted her to be.
Briget was already blushing when Mark deftly snapped open her bra, the single hasp between her breasts popping open with hardly any encouragement from him. The sudden freedom of the fleshy mounds caused them to jiggle momentarily, alerting her to the fact she was almost completely nude. Briget relaxed slightly as Mark nudged her, gently pushing her so she flopped face first down on the cool, soft bed. There was almost a reflex action from her as she felt his fingers hooking into the flimsy elastic of her plain lace undies. Without any prompting, she pressed her elbows into the mattress and discreetly raised her hips, her face burying into the sweet-smelling pillow to conceal her nervous embarrassment as her body was stripped bare of the last remnant of her clothing.
If it had been difficult for Briget to submit to the removal of her clothes, it was even harder to permit Mark to manacle her wrists with the broad leather cuffs he wrapped around each of them. It wasn't so much that she didn't want him to - she did, albeit with some reservations. But he was mercifully quick, buckling each wrist before turning his attention to her ankles. Briget felt light-headed as each of her ankles was wrapped snugly with leather cuffs. She bent her arms defensively up under her body, defensively because he was about to steal her freedom and she was willingly submitting. The way his hands grabbed her ankles, manipulating the shoes off her feet, thrilled her and made her acutely aware that she was now completely naked. In a moment, he was back beside her head, leaning over and gently prizing her manacled wrists free from under her body so they could be attached with attractively small padlocks to the ends of a long wooden bar. Briget watched silently as Mark tugged the bar close to the bedhead, lifting the loose end of a short rope from behind it to secure the bar and Briget's outstretched arms above her head.
'You see,' Mark said. 'I told you you wanted this!'
Briget just blushed and sheepishly mumbled her agreement. 'Yes...but not from some stranger...'
'Don't worry Briget...you won't know who's in here with you...or care...' Mark chuckled to himself as he slipped a sleeping mask over her head.
'What are you doing?' Briget felt a rush of panic as everything went black behind the mask. She arched her back, immediately struggling to turn her head to try and discern what he was doing.
'Yes...' Mark said thoughtfully. 'Very nice...it's even got the nice little emblem of the airline company on it...they gave us those in a sample bag when we arrived at the conference...I wonder why they did that?'
Briget didn't laugh at his perverse joke. Instead, she fought desperately against the manacles around her wrists, feeling more and more helpless, especially when she felt his hands back on her ankles.
'Please...please Mark...don't do this...let me go...' Briget whimpered as her legs were spread obscenely apart. The small vibration of the padlocks snapping closed at the ends of a long bar sent little shock waves through her ankle bones, up her widely spread legs and seemed to ripple around her crotch until all her concentration suddenly zoomed to her clit. She dared not speak out loud what she was thinking, but the sensation of having her body trapped in such a lewdly revealing position had stimulated her in a totally unexpected way, and she felt certain her now swollen clit was itching and stirring from beneath the protective fleshy hood at the apex of her pussy. This both filled her with a dry-mouthed excitement and acute embarrassment, intuitively sensing Mark's penetrating gaze on her uncontrollable display of perverse delight. The cool conditioned air filled the void between her thighs, reminding her that she was helplessly on display for him, unable to do anything to modestly protect herself. Struggling against the secure restraints only deepened her escalating arousal - the tender lips of her slit unfurling almost magically to betray her most profound emotional condition.
'There! That should hold you!' Mark said, hitching a rope from the center of the spreader bar to the short middle castor wheel at the bottom end of the bed. 'Now...let's get Jeremy on the phone and see what he has to say about you. I'm sure he'll be very pleased!'
Briget's heart pounded furiously in her chest. Mark's fingers feathering on the soles of her feet, gently pressing into the soft webbing between her wriggling toes, made her think again about the message she'd read from Jeremy. She listened intently to the beeping sounds of buttons being pressed on a mobile phone, Mark obviously using the moment to imply by his casual groping of her sensitive feet what would happen once his client arrived.
Mark listened as the phone buzzed its familiar ringing tone, admiring the perfectness of the beautiful nude body stretched out on the bed in front of him. He felt swelled with self-satisfaction, his eyes wandering from the tips of Briget's long, spidery fingers to the tips of her attractively dainty toes. There was a pinkness about her feet which was highly alluring to him. It suggested not merely a cleanliness about her, but was a clear sign of her wariness about having them handled in any way. He cupped the big toe of her right foot in his hand just to feel its form. He held it for a second, twisting it gently to force Briget's foot into a position where he could see the subdued red gloss on her toes. He congratulated himself silently for having been accurate with his first impression of Briget. The nails were neatly trimmed, and the application of the red polish revealed things about her he knew she probably didn't even realize herself. He didn't have to imagine her sitting in her room earlier in the day, rubber spacers holding her toes widely spread while she applied the gloss, being thoroughly careful to paint it on evenly and without spillage on her toes. He knew she was too innocent yet to understand, but the ritual of painting her nails, especially in making her toes attractive, was a manifest sign of a desire to have them tickled and caressed. It was also true, Mark knew well, that a girl who'll let you touch her feet will let you touch her anywhere. It didn't matter that Briget presently had no say in the matter. She wasn't objecting at all to his sensual caressing, and, looking at the way the rest of her beautiful nude body was vulnerably open to his eyes, there was no way she could stop him or anybody else caressing her all over. Mark wondered whether he should check his computer for the names of some other clients...maybe make a group booking for the weekend?
'Hello, Jeremy?' Mark said when his call was finally answered. 'I have your itinerary all set out here and ready to go...don't forget your camera!' | 4 |
40,379 | A Date With The Rabbit | 'I know what you want to do,' he said, 'but please let me see first. Okay.'
The anticipation in his eyes relaxed me somewhat, though our first meeting was still tense with both excitement and fear.
'Okay. What do you want to do?' I said with some trepidation.
He was a nice-looking guy, not pretty but shy and quiet.
'Just let me look,' he said, his eyes almost pleading as they roamed across my body.
I slipped my sports coat off, unbuttoned my shirt, and dropped it on the nearby chair. He seemed to hardly be able to keep his hands off me as he knelt there in front of where I sat in the chair.
I lifted my t-shirt off over my head and saw him move still closer to me, almost between my knees.
'Can I...' he paused. 'Can I touch your nipples?'
I smiled, thinking about it for a minute. 'Yes.'
Very softly, his attention completely on the tiny points of flesh, his trembling hand reached to my right nipple, where it stood out from the goosebumps on my chest, and very tentatively touched it. I hadn't ever felt a touch like it - soft and almost rabbit-like in its appreciation and apprehension.
His touch was electric. The warmth of his fingers transmitted through the nerves and into my chest.
'Can I kiss it?' he said longingly.
'Yes.'
Crawling closer, his mouth neared it and, excruciatingly, stopped, his eyes looking quickly into mine as if I might push him away at the last moment. I smiled reassuringly, and again he shifted closer on his knees and, as if fulfilled, tongued it brushingly and kissed it ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly.
My hands came to the sides of his head, and, after a few seconds, very gently pushed him away. He moved away longingly but easily, looking into my eyes with gratitude. He looked down into my lap, where the obvious bulge showed through my pants.
'It's big,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Can I see?'
'No,' I said too quickly. 'No. Then it would be all over.'
He nodded through a small, disappointed smile of understanding. His smile broadened.
'Please get dressed. I want to see you...' He almost interrupted himself in mid-word. 'No, no. Let me help you with your shoes. And socks,' he added, and looked down at my feet, moving to do so even before I had moved my foot toward him to let him do it.
He slipped off the loafer and peeled back the sock sensuously. That's really the only way I can describe it - sensuously. His hands followed the contours and shapes of it as the sock came off. Then, as if dismissing it, he switched to the other foot and did the same thing. He lingered with it in his hand before gently setting it back on the floor and allowing me to start to stand.
He moved back, still on his knees, to allow me to stand, but I found he was still very close to me as I stood.
'Let me help...' he said softly. 'Let me help you undo your pants.'
I saw him swallow hard, then, not waiting for an answer, reach for my belt. The vibration of his fingers was clear throughout my body as his hands began to undo my belt, the fastener at the waist, and the zipper. I stood with my hands on my hips to allow him to lead the way.
Again looking into my eyes with an anticipatory smile, almost like a young child opening a Christmas present, he helped the pants fall down my hips and onto my thighs. As my underwear came into view, unnaturally tented with my own excitement, his eyes locked on it, in spite of his continuing movements to lower the pants to my thighs, calves, and, as I lifted my foot, off first one leg and then the other.
I could see the intention in his eyes to stop me there and continue with his primary pursuit immediately. I stepped around him then.
'Can I watch?' he begged.
'No. I want you to be surprised.'
I moved to the bathroom and quickly stepped out of the underwear. Shaking, I pulled the panties out of the sack and put them on, carefully nestling my hard-on into them and to the side. My fingers not cooperating, I fastened the bra around my middle, turned it, and put my arms into the straps, pulling it up into place.
Then I put the blouse and skirt on. My hands shook as I threaded my legs into the thigh-high stockings one at a time, and the shoes eluded me for a moment before I could get the high heels on my feet. The wig was relatively easy.
I looked into the mirror and put the necklace, earrings, lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara on. It had taken only a few minutes, but the anticipation was amazing.
I walked back into the main room of the motel room.
He again sat in the chair by the small table. I saw a frown cross his brow first and then a smile, so much in contrast that it almost seemed to break his face. I could see the almost bouncing excitement spread from within him to his face, to his posture, and, finally, to his clasped hands.
'You're beautiful!' He stared open-mouthed.
I could only smile at the obvious sincerity of his statement, even though I knew there were a great deal of faults he may not have seen yet and soon would. He still stared until I became self-conscious.
'Thank you,' I said then into the silence that was really unbroken by the motel room radio playing a soft song.
As if it had broken a spell, he stood and rapidly looked me from top to bottom. 'I see,' he said. 'I see why you wanted to do this. You're magnificent. You're...you're...' He seemed to be speechless.
I raised my hand to stop him. 'No. That's enough. You'll swell my head until I can't keep this hair on anymore.'
His mouth open, he looked at the radio as if he'd just realized it was on and couldn't figure out why the sound was from outer space and totally unfamiliar. Then he looked as if he had recognized it and, in a single motion, extended his hand to me irresistibly until I took it. My other hand played with the hem of the short skirt. He pulled me close to him naturally and easily and moved in concert with the music as if we had already been doing that for some time.
His other hand had already gone beneath my arm and around my waist, pressing into my back through the blouse, my nose and eyes peeking over his shoulder. Almost of its own volition, my hand went to his shoulder as if we had been dancing forever. I had never danced with another man.
'You feel so wonderful next to me!' he sighed. 'Perfect. Just perfect. Wonderful. Beautiful.' All his words floated across my shoulder and surrounded and warmed me until I found myself smiling ridiculously for no reason but my own pleasure.
Then, easily, he slowed our movements, moved slightly away from my body, and looked into my face. His lips moved as if in slow motion to my own. My eyes closed as we met, and my arms went around his neck.
'Perfect,' I heard him sigh to himself as he took a breath between impassioned kisses that left me unable to open my eyes.
I felt him move away from me slightly then, his hands tracing my sides, my waist, my hips, and back, upward. His left hand moved to the middle of my back and pressed forward, then, while the other pressed firmly into the form within my bra. I was literally unable to raise my arms or open my eyes. I could only moan softly at the feelings it unleashed. My back arched to him.
I don't know when he unbuttoned the blouse, but I felt his lips touch the naked skin of my neck, my chest, and my nipples, one after the other.
My legs wouldn't hold me as he lay me back onto the bed.
His hands held the shape of my calves then. Then the thighs. Then, I knew, my skirt was raised high onto my stomach. The thin material of the panties was whisked aside only the tiniest amount as my legs spread and raised.
His lips kissed it. Enveloped it. Pumped it. And swallowed it whole.
My eyes exploded.
In a moment, my eyes re-focused, and pleasure changed to mild pain. My hands went to the back of his head, stopping what little movement his head still made.Though my head still spun, I moved to straighten my clothing, moving the bra back into place, the skirt down somewhat. I nestled my own quickly softening manhood back into the panties. I smiled into his grinning face as it raised from my waist.
'Let me up,' I said, his frown answering me. 'No, no. Not to worry.' My own sexy smile apparently answered his fears of abandonment.
I directed him to move his head to the pillows where he had laid me a few moments before and rolled to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. I crossed my stocking-covered legs toward the pillows, fending off his probing hand for a moment as it tried to edge under my skirt. I let him put it on my waist as I buttoned some of the blouse's lower buttons. I couldn't help but notice as he kneaded my side, looking at me as I moved. It was very flattering.
I turned to him then, smiling and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Finally, I got to his waist and he sucked in his breath to let me pull the shirt from his pants and spread it wide over his naked, almost hairless chest. As I held the shirt wide, I kissed his chest softly, looking into his waiting eyes with my own smile and letting the long hair of my wig brush across his stomach.
Moving slightly, I moved to his face, my hands on either side of it, and kissed him softly on the lips. They opened, but I didn't allow my own to do the same, but instead caught the sensitive skin of the inside of his lips.
I moved away from him then, moving down his body and undoing his pants. In a single movement, I stripped down his pants and underpants, leaving him standing tall from his body. Only quickly and in passing, I kissed it dryly and moved on to pull the pants off his legs. Then I pulled off his socks as sexily as he had mine earlier, running my hands across his naked feet and legs. He reacted by starting to sit up, but with one hand, I forced him back to the bed.
Now, completely revealed, I looked at him from about the level of his knees and smiled again at his embarrassed nakedness. I moved quickly to try to make him feel more comfortable or, at least, to divert his attention.
I stood up next to the bed and clasped my knees together under the short skirt. My hands went to my false breasts through the blouse, kneading them as my eyes closed and my tongue traced the shape of my upper lip and tasted the lipstick.
I peeked through my clasped eyelids and saw his continuing arousal as he watched me; rapt.
My hands went to the hem of the skirt and started to edge it upward until, I knew, the white of the panties again showed. Then I slowly turned until my back was to him and continued to edge the hem upward until it was at my waist. Slowly, sensuously, I edged the panty material between my cheeks until it formed only a thin line of white material from between my legs to my waist, the material pulling roughly between my legs.
Then I jumped to the waistband of skirt and panties and slowly threaded my hands into them to push downward until they were below my ass altogether.
Then I spread my legs slightly, my back still to him, and ran my forefingers down between the cheeks. I bent at the waist slowly, arching my back and moving my hands back to my false breasts and squeezing them as my head tilted back until it almost met my back. I knew the action thrust my ass out toward him, and he could see the muscles of my legs quivering with the tension of the exercise and the excitement.
Still facing away from him, I put my legs back together tightly and wiggled to let the skirt and panties fall to my knees, my ankles, and finally to the top of my shoes where I could step out of them.
Then again, I spread them, reaching to the nearby nightstand where I got a healthy finger full of Vaseline. Reaching between my legs with three fingers, one on each side of the one holding the Vaseline, I felt the cold lubricant touch the naked skin of my asshole.
I watched him stare at my hand as I looked over my shoulder, my finger disappearing into me then.
Again, I was quite aroused as I turned back toward him, my hardness bounding slightly with the movement, rock hard.
I moved to him then, bending over with my back again arched, and quickly kissed his manhood again as I got another large finger full of the Vaseline. In a motion, I moved away from it and replaced my kiss with the cold lubricant.
My hands shaped themselves to his manhood, spreading the lubricant and coaxing a moan from him. Not wanting to lose the utmost of his hard-on, I quickly straddled him and, in a motion, allowed him to slip into my body.
My head went back and my eyes closed with the intensity of the feeling within me. The muscles of my legs trembled with the exertion and assault on my senses as I moved up on him slightly and, as quickly, back down until it nearly went into me fully; back up and back down again until I felt him deep within me and the pubic hair against my ass.
Staying very still for a long time, I let my eyes re-focus and the intensity of the feelings subside toward quiet. I leaned my head forward and saw that he was doing exactly the same thing, his eyes now focusing on my face and a smile spreading across his face.
'God, you're beautiful!' he moaned. It was exactly what I still needed. I knew I smiled broadly as I looked down at him from my superior position. I leaned back and caught myself on extended arms, feeling him inside me so far it seemed impossible, his rod moving oddly in my bowels. My head was back, just feeling the wonderful feelings of it, my chest thrust forward, my long hair dangling backward on my back, and my hard cock standing tall between us.
I gasped as I felt the cold of the Vaseline in his palm as he spread it across my head and down my phallus as he worshipped it. As the heel of his hand reached my stomach, his other hand wrapped around me with added coolness for a moment.
Then, together, his hands began to move up and down my length, drawing the panting breath from me with each movement. When he moved his hands up, I found myself lifting up him at the same time and, when he moved down, I dropped back onto him.
The combined feelings of him inside me and around me at the same time, drove me to places I'd never been before.
My mouth opened wide with the moan that was drawn and driven into me. I knew my come was literally blasting out of my body and, as I thought I was losing touch with any kind of reality, I felt the hot come in my ass and heard his vibrating moan. He pulled, holding tight around me, as he arched and came inside me.
As it started to pass slightly, he began pumping hard on me and, at the same time, pumping in and out of me in opposition to his hands. I came harder than I had ever even dreamed of coming.
Finally, I couldn't stand it and dropped forward onto his chest. Just before my lips found his, I opened my eyes and saw the stream of my come that strung across his face from chin to left eye. I covered his mouth, delving deep into it with my tongue, but quickly rose and began to wildly lick the come off his chin and cheek as he laughed and came inside me still again.
The end
© 1996 Mike Benton & Michelle Johnson | 4 |
40,740 | Hell Hath No Fury | 'What's to stop me saying yes, taking the pill, and running off to find Kat?' I asked. She MUST have thought of that one.
'Forget Kat. She is effectively gone. I doubt that even my remaining millions would be able to find her. She could be any woman, and a harem is not the place for another beautiful young lady to be looking in.'
'So you have, in all practicality, killed her.'
'No, as a doctor I have sworn to protect life. She has about ten years as a harem sex slave before she is released. That will make her nearly forty. No doubt she would try and come running to find you, but with no birth certificate, no documents, and looking very Arabic, I very much doubt she could leave the country. These Bedouin harems are given free reign by most Middle-Eastern governments, so it's going to be impossible to track her down. Slave traders don't keep records, you know.'
I wanted to cry for my poor Kat, locked away in chains in some depraved sheikh's harem, being used as just a sex and entertainment object. I knew Elizabeth was right. My darling 'Kat' was gone.
'Now back to your question about double-crossing me. You are quite correct, I have thought of that. Your natural body state is now female. The pill will change your body back to that of your male self. But the only way to keep it that way is to ingest a drug which I and only I have the means to produce. Each day you are without it, a part of you will turn back into me, this time for good, and in reverse order. That's right -- vagina first, then breasts, then head, and you know the rest. Ten days later you will resemble me again, this time for good.'
'So you will have me on a leash.'
'That's right. If you or I go away, I will leave enough drug to last you until my return. You will not be able to stray from my side forever.'
'What if you are killed or maimed in an accident?'
'Then ten days later, Dr. Elizabeth Bexley lives on in you.'
'So really, I have no choice at all.'
'You can say no and stay like that for good. I just hope you can adjust more than you have said. Otherwise, you will find womanhood a nightmare.'
'Can I think about it?'
'OK, you have two hours,' and with that, she carefully and visibly took the pill bottle, put it in her purse, and started to walk out.
'Wait, how can I think properly when every part of me is on fire in arousal?'
'Good point,' Elizabeth said, 'Fail-safe gamma disengage two hours. Fail-safe omega engage in two hours twenty minutes,' she added and went out.
The waves of pleasure stopped, but I still could not move.
The choice was clear. Just what would I give up for love? I had no doubt that Elizabeth was now quite insane. I was also in no doubt that she was also deadly serious. She meant to be my wife at any cost, and indeed this horrible choice must have been her plan from the start. To choose between life as a man, constrained by some chemical leash, or freedom as a woman, was really no choice at all. These past few days of being ogled at, being constantly aroused by the sight of my now tattooed breasts and body, menstruation looming, having to wear makeup, trying to find love again, and worst of all missing Kat -- this meant to me that being a woman was out of the question. Maybe someone else in the same situation would have been able to adjust, but not me. So the only other choice was to be with Elizabeth as a house-trained slave. I was in no doubt that she could and would use the threat of not giving me the drug against me, and I would be a prisoner no matter how beautiful the cell. In a way I was in the same situation as Kat, just a sex slave for an insane master (or mistress). If she could put this fail-safe thing in me, what else could she do?
'Fail-safe override,' I said.
Nothing happened. I was still paralyzed. I guess if it was that easy to get round it wouldn't be a fail-safe. The command had to come from Elizabeth.
There HAD to be a third option.
Got it! Agree to her deal. Then use whatever allowance she gave me to try and free myself from the drug's reliance. If it was done in secret, she would never know until it was too late.
Before two hours was up, Elizabeth walked back in, still wearing Kat's body.
'Fail-safe all disengage five minutes, Fail-safe Omega engage in ten minutes,' she said.
The pleasure waves went away as quickly as they had come.
'What's your choice?' she demanded.
'Deal. I want to marry you. Give me the pill,' I said.
She thought for a moment and gave me pill number two.
I took a glass of water in slender female hands, put the glass to my full pouting lips, and took the pill. Staring down at my heaving breasts, I breathed a sigh of relief - at last, the ordeal was over.
'Liar!' Elizabeth said.
My body began to sweat uncontrollably. Here it comes, I thought. Suddenly I felt sick and rushed to the bathroom and promptly threw up violently. Several more chucks later, I stopped, stood up, and saw to my horror that my breasts were still there. A quick check down THERE met only with moist, warm flesh.
'How long until I change back?'
'Never!' Elizabeth said. 'You don't think I looked at my own face for twenty years and didn't know when I was lying.'
'You mean?'
'Yes, the last pill makes all your changes permanent.'
My hand went to my face and traced its gentle oval shape, and feeling tears welling up inside me, I just cried. My fate was sealed. A woman I was and a woman I would remain.
'You had a chance,' she said.
'How could I have avoided this?' I sobbed (thigh over thigh, what a pair! NO!)
'Said no to my deal.'
'Why?'
'Because you're right. I am a bitch, and now so are you.'
I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs.
'Now you are me. You will need these,' she said, and she threw a passport and airline tickets at me. 'I think it's about time Dr. Elizabeth Bexley left, as I am very tired and I want to change as soon as I can,' she said.
'Wait,' I said.
Kat, no, Elizabeth, held a cassette recorder in the air and said, 'This is my insurance. If anything happens to me, this will be found, and you, my dearest twin, will be in the proverbial shit.'
She switched it on. 'If you don't leave now, Dr. Bexley, I will call security. My husband is due soon, and I know how you felt about being jilted by him. I don't know why you followed us here, but you MUST go. So please leave,' she said this with the distress obvious in her voice (what an actress!).
'No, you leave!' I screamed.
'This is my hotel room, and you are no longer welcome here,' she said with a hard, determined tone.
'OK, I'll go. But first I need to, you know, go.'
'Alright then.'
I took off my trousers and stood in front of the bowl instinctively. I reached out for a dick but was only met by two folds of female flesh. I started to urinate standing up but quickly remembered to sit down before too much went all over the floor.
Elizabeth came in and laughed in a vicious way, and threw me a skirt, saying 'you'd better wear this -- your jeans are dirty now'. I put on the patterned skirt. It reached down to my ankles and made me almost sick seeing it there.
'Time to go, Liz,' Elizabeth said, starting the cassette tape again.
And I went out, taking the tickets with me.
Looking at the ticket showed that they were for the 03:10 flight to JFK only. This was my only chance of escape. The passport showed the face of Elizabeth Bexley, Ph.D. Looking at the details caused my heart to sink.
Name: Dr. Elizabeth Bexley
Hair: Auburn
Eyes: Blue
Height: 1.77 Meters
Sex: Female
The 'Female' part, although in the same print, burned its way from the page into my mind.
Distinguishing Marks: Mole on Right Thigh (soon to have massive tattoo of a hydra, I thought).
Occupation: Medical Doctor.
Looking at the time in the hotel (since I grew HER arms, my watch didn't fit), I saw I had a full six hours to kill. I needed to be alone, and so I walked. No longer in the confines of my hotel room, I could not explore my body anymore, but every sway of hip, every touch of my skirt on my thighs, every bounce of breast, and every swish of hair could not deny or hide what and who I had forever become.
The taxi to the airport got me to the terminal just in time to catch the flight.
8. Hell Hath No Fury
================
If Elizabeth's vengeance on me was long and convoluted, mine would be swift and immediate.I did not have the means to inflict on her the pain and suffering that she had done to me, and I knew she was due (as Kat) to leave in three days. So as I sat on the plane and flew home, I knew she mustn't be allowed to escape. Because once she was back, I would lose her forever. She did say that she wanted her body back, but I couldn't wait that long. No doubt she would ensure that I could not follow her or track her down. So the only chance I had was when she came off of her flight.
I slept rough for three days. I could not bring myself to check into a motel, and besides, I had no money. I refused to take the obvious last-ditch career choice for when a girl is out of money, so I slept rough. Or rather, tried to. I was followed on several occasions, and rape seemed inevitable, but somehow each time I managed to lose my follower in the crowded streets of New York. Every hour I was awake, my sense of loss grew - Kat, my manhood, my life. I wished Elizabeth had just killed me, but this living hell followed me around. Everywhere I went, men and women went to and fro, minding their own business. To them, I was just a rather unkempt woman who had fallen on hard times. Sure, give her sympathy, but not much else. I had no prospect, only a drop into prostitution or exotic dancing, but I suspected that my tattoo would severely restrict the clients I would get. In any case, I loathed my vagina and could not face kissing a man. Let's face it, the market for lesbians who had a thing for tattoos must be very small. My mind was in a blur, but then a plan came into focus.
Day came and then a night, and then it was time to move. I chose the nearest gun shop to the airport and went in.
'What'll it be, miss?' the owner said.
'I want something to protect me whilst I find work,' I tried to say seductively.
'And what work is that?' the man asked.
Men were all the same. I should know, I am still one inside, and I lust after myself every day. 'What do you think?'
'I think you're a girl who enjoys a good time.'
'Do you want a freebie?' I said.
The man came out from around the counter. He was easily six feet tall and had broad shoulders, his face showing the scars of several fights.
'Do you like this?' I said, and I showed my thigh with the hydra's tail tattoo on it.
'Cool tattoo,' the man said.
'It goes all the way up,' I said, 'come and see.'
As he bent down to look up my skirt at the tattoo and, more than likely, my crotch, I quickly brought my leg up into his face. He screamed and collapsed into a heap. Before he could get up, I stamped my foot into his genitals, and he writhed around helpless. Just to be sure, a quick chop to the windpipe soon sorted him out. The keys were in his pocket, and as I lifted them out, I looked at the clock on the wall. Just over two hours before Elizabeth was due to arrive back.
Looking at the array of weapons, I wondered which one to choose. I REALLY wanted a magnum, but could hardly lift one. So I had to settle for a small-caliber Colt. The ammo was hard to find, but eventually, I found some. Carrying the gun into an airport was going to be difficult with nothing to put it in, so looking around, I saw the man's sports bag laying behind the counter. Perfect!
Fully tooled up, I hitched to the airport but remained quiet. I had no idea how I would get away with this, but nothing but vengeance mattered now. There is an old saying - before starting out on revenge, dig two graves, one for them, one for you. There was also another saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. Well, my heart was as cold and sharp as flint.
I sat waiting in the arrivals lounge, my slender hand inside the bag, feeling the surprise I had for Elizabeth. I didn't have to wait long. In a crowd, I saw her, still as Kat, looking very relaxed. NOW! I thought. But there were too many people around. At a distance, I followed her. She became aware of my pursuit and started to run down a long, brightly lit corridor.
'Help me,' she screamed, but still, I pursued her, oblivious to all around me. Suddenly, I had a clear shot, and I pulled the gun from the bag and took aim. The pressure needed on the trigger was greater than I thought, and suddenly the world was in slow motion. There was a loud CRACK!, and the gun bucked in my hand. I looked up in time to see the back of Elizabeth's head explode as the shell hit the base of the skull. I heard another CRACK just in time to feel stabbing, burning pain as a bullet entered my shoulder. I was spun to the ground with the force of the impact, and the last thing I saw was the blood seeping out from the remains of Elizabeth's head. A smile spread across my face.
'All done,' I said.
I awoke in prison overalls with my shoulder still aching. I was dragged into a small room, where two cops sat opposite me.
'Why'd you do it, Elizabeth?' they asked.
'You wouldn't believe me.'
'Try us. You had everything - money, looks, intelligence. You could have had any man you wanted. Why'd you kill Jane Stephens?'
'That wasn't Kat, I mean Jane.'
'Then who did you think it was?'
I could see where this was leading, and I just kept quiet.
'We found this on her,' and the cop produced the cassette tape. He inserted it into a player. The conversation Elizabeth and I had before I was thrown out was replayed.
'You know what it looks like to us?' the cop said.
'What?'
'Distraught over being jilted, you decided to take a little trip to the happy honeymooners. You tried to warn Jane off, but she threw you out. You then lay in wait and blew her brains out so that hubby would come running back to you.'
Some time later.
'All Rise.'
'How does the jury find the defendant?'
'Guilty on all counts.'
'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, you have been found guilty of the first-degree murder of Jane Stephens. You will be taken from this place and brought to another where you will be executed by lethal injection. May God have mercy on your soul.'
The End. | 4 |
42,031 | Erica's Bound Pleasure | 'Master, please use me for your pleasure, I beg of you. Ravish me, master,' I plead, pouting my lips, knowing that you cannot resist.
'Very good, Erica,' you murmur, stroking my hair again. 'You are learning to obey.'
'Thank you, Master,' I whisper, grateful. The experience feels so different from the rest of my world where I am always in control. It is hard to imagine that only two hours ago, I was leaving the office perfectly dressed and taking a taxi to this tryst with my lover. One moment, Erica, executive officer, aloof and reserved, with people hardly daring to approach me. Now I kneel naked and chained at my lover's feet, knowing I have no choice but to obey his commands. Seeking once again the ultimate release from myself at his firm hands.
The image of the leather collar closing around my throat reminds me of my submission. I can only wait patiently, flexing my chained wrists. I can hardly bear the tension, still feeling the hardness and warmth of your cock inside my sex, still shaking in my need to climax. Knowing that you can do anything you want with me. Just the thought sends another wave flooding through me.
'We have not finished, Erica,' you warn. 'Are you now ready to obey my original command?' You pull the leash tighter and guide my mouth to your cock, waiting for my glossed lips to part. My eyes still feel lost in the darkness of your blindfold. The gold chain around my waist only emphasizes my nakedness. My sex aches with need, parted by the two gold chains that run down over my mons and up between the cheeks of my bottom. They leave me constantly throbbing with desire, so wanton I cannot understand it. I wish my lover would slide something inside me to release my climax. I can hardly bear to wait, but I know you will punish me if I come before you give permission. I toy with the thought, knowing the thongs of your whip will excite me again.
'Yes, Master. Take me,' I murmur, flicking my flowing hair back behind my collar. I know you can see my excitement in my erect nipples and my trembling hips.
You smile as you consider the boundless opportunities offered by your naked and chained lover, Erica. Where should one take her?
'Master, please use me for your pleasure, I beg of you. Ravish me, master,' you plead. I ignore your wanton charms, toying with the thoughts on how to ravish you for the remainder of the afternoon.
'Very good, Erica,' I reply, 'You are learning to obey.' I muse on the thought of our first session together and your offer of submission to my desires.
'Thank you, Master,' you whisper, quivering with desire.
'We have not finished, Erica,' I continue firmly, toying with the soft leather tip of the crop in my hands. 'Are you now ready to obey my original command?' I demand, pulling the leash tighter and guide your mouth to my hard cock, waiting for your glossed lips to part to satiate my desire.
'Yes, Master. Take me,' you whisper, as I slide between your perfectly rounded lips. I smile as I see your excitement in your erect nipples. I can feel you trembling with passion and need for release. I reach down and squeeze your right nipple, gagging your moan as I thrust inside your lips.
Your tongue teases the head of my cock, licking its whole length. You revel in the familiar taste of your lover and your own love juices. Your lips wrap around me as I thrust my hard cock inside. Your head moves back and forth, pleasuring me with your oral offering. 'How much do you like to suck my cock, Erica?'
'I adore it,' you reply, just touching the tip between thrusts, before taking me deep inside you again. My cock fills your mouth as you realize the incompleteness of your reply.
'Erica, you know that your disobedience is punishable, I shall be less forgiving this time.'
'P-p-please,' you beg, bowing your head submissively, 'Master. I am yours to use as you so desire.'
'Slave, I didn't tell you to stop sucking me. You will have to learn to be more obedient, Erica.' You quiver at the thought of being punished and wonder if I will satiate the obvious desire in my throbbing cock. 'How should I punish you for such insolent behaviour, Erica?'
'Anyway you wish, Master. I am your slave. My body is yours to choose its pleasure or its suffering,' you respond, wondering what will happen next. Your pussy is totally wet at the thought. You long to touch yourself.
'Well, Erica, your master has decided.' I reply. 'I should come over your pouting lips and flickering tongue, but I shall restrain myself until you beg for me to come inside you.'
'Please, Master, come inside me, take me anywhere you wish,' you plead.
'You will beg better in a moment, my dearest slave girl.'
I step back and readjust the black silk blindfold covering your eyes. I take your wrists and chain them together again behind your back, this time linking them to the two chains running down between the rounded cheeks of your ass. You immediately pull your wrists back to pull the chains tighter into your pussy, one running each side of your clitoris. You gasp in wanton pleasure at the feeling, tugging gently and wiggling your bottom.
You know how close I am behind you. You can almost feel my voice 'Erica, if you come without your master's permission you will suffer'. Your hands remain still, as your sex shakes in expectation of climaxing. You feel my hands brush your pubes as I attach something to the two chains at the front, just where they meet the chain around your waist. You gasp as cold chain touches your stomach and reaches up between your breasts. You are silent as I thread the chain through a chrome loop on your collar. You almost come as I tug gently, making your pussy surge with desires, the chains wet with your juices again.
You moan helplessly as I lead you from the room, your bare feet noticing the change from marble to stone. The chain feels so taut between your legs, pulling your chained wrists tightly against your ass. 'Master, your slave offers herself for chastisement or fucking. Please, please take me. Use me. I cannot bear the suspense.' 'Erica, I will decide what will happen with you. You can tell me, as I punish you, everything you desire me to do with you.'
'First you must wait.' You feel the chain tighten as it is hooked to the wall, another orgasm seems close. Your erect nipples tense at the touch of the stone wall. Your bare thighs rest firmly against the wall. You are unable to turn in any direction. You wait. You hear me step away and a door open to one side. You suddenly feel alone. Is this your punishment you wonder? Time seems to stop as you move your wrists, making the chains seesaw in your open pussy. You push your sex brazenly against the wall, the cold soft stone embracing your hot clitoris. You gasp as it quells your desire, stopping another wave of orgasmic sensation in your sex. You repeat the process over and over, moaning as the intense feeling grows inside you and gasping for breath as you control yourself. You feel beads of sweat on your body as it shakes with uncontrollable desire. It seems to last forever.
'I do hope you haven't come, Erica. You know that I tell,' I say as my return interrupts your thoughts. My finger reaches between your legs and pushes just inside your pussy. You moan pleadingly, 'Please, master. Feel how hot I am for you, master.' I reach up and let you suck your juices from my finger, admiring your perfect red lips. I release the blindfold, letting your long black hair fall onto your shoulders, and turn your lips to face me. 'I have chosen what you should wear for this evening. Come with me.' Your eyes blink in the candlelight as you realize I have changed into evening dress. Just the thought of being naked and bound before your formally dressed lover makes you shudder.I lead you through the large oak door and we stop before a table covered in white silk with various objects laid out in front of you. "Erica, do you submit yourself to your punishment for your disobedience?" I inquire, lifting your chin to me and looking straight into your green eyes. "Absolutely, master. Use me as you wish. Anything you command is my desire," you reply as I unfasten the chains from your collar and waist. The two wet chains slide reluctantly from between your legs. I lift them to your lips, and you lustfully lick your juices from them. I release your wrists, leaving you naked apart from the collar around your neck, symbolizing your submission.
"Erica, I command you to perfume yourself and adjust your makeup. Then attire yourself with everything on the table." Your scent can hardly mask your arousal. You paint your lips deep red, imagining them still wrapped around my hard cock. You slide the sheer black hold-up stockings up your legs, the lace tops just reaching the tops of your thighs. The shoes are a perfect fit, black soft leather Edwardian boots with high heels. I admire your gaping pussy as you bend to lace the boots tightly around each ankle. You notice that there are two straps that wrap around each ankle and fasten them tightly on the outside. Their purpose becomes clear when you see the chrome rings on each strap inside your ankles. The black silk panties are an unexpected item. You pull them up against your open sex and immediately know how wet they are. They have ribbons at each side. You cannot imagine wearing them for very long. You gasp in desire at the gloves, sensuous black suede with laces that rise past the elbows. You tingle with desire as you slide each one on. You offer me each wrist in turn so that I can pull the lacing tight. You flex your fingers to indulge in the sensation. The gloves also have a wrist strap which I fasten tightly and another at the top above the elbows. You wonder how far forward your breasts would thrust if I joined both of your elbows. The black leather bustier seems to be almost a four-inch belt. I reach under your tingling breasts as I lace it tightly behind you. You look down, your breasts are bare but lifted forwards. Your nipples show your intense arousal. I reach up and unfasten your collar, only to replace it with another, wider and softer. So wide it almost lifts your chin. You shudder as I fasten the three straps under your dark hair. The collar is joined to the belt by a leather strap, completing the harness.
"Touch yourself with your leather-covered fingers, Erica," I order. You immediately thrust a finger into your sex, making you moan, the other hand opens your pussy and circles your clitoris. You cry out in pleasure. "Stop. Slaves only pleasure themselves for their masters," I order. Your face grimaces. "Touch your bottom with your fingers," I continue, "Imagine it is my hard cock there." You hesitate slightly. I reach out and squeeze your left nipple, harder and harder, watching your finger slide between the cheeks of your bottom. I admire your wanton moans as your leather-covered fingers toy with your ass. "You look wonderful. Completely ready for your submission. I think I will not blindfold you until later, slave."
"Fasten this chain to the ring just below your breasts and offer it to me," I command. You sigh in your submission as you hand me the chain to lead you into the main room. I lead you to a chain which hangs from the ceiling in front of a huge mirror. You admire how desirable you look. You shiver as you see a small table nearby holding two thonged whips, a crop, and two black leather phalluses.
You cross your wrists, waiting for them to be joined. You gasp as I take your right wrist and pull it up towards your left elbow, fastening it tightly to the strap above the elbow. You offer your left wrist to be bound to the other elbow. "Good, you are beginning to obey, Erica." Your breasts thrust out in front of you wantonly, stretched by the tightness in your elbows. I wrap another wide strap around your already bound forearms, tightening the straps to ensure your arms are tight. I fasten a chain the strap to a ring at the back of your collar, pulling tightly to raise your chain and pull your head back slightly. You experiment with raising your tightly bound arms rather than leaning your head back. You elect to keep your head, apart from glancing in the mirror to admire your taught bound body.
You feel confused as I fasten the chain loosely to a ring in the middle of your back, wondering its purpose. "Open your legs, Erica," I order. "Wider, Erica." I kneel and attach a chrome bar between your ankles, to each of those rings on the straps of your boots. Your sex feels wide apart. I admire your arousal as I fasten the center of the bar to a ring in the floor. "You are so helpless, Erica, I could take you anywhere." "Please, master, anything," you plead. I adjust the chain in the middle of your back.
"Erica, your punishment is about to begin." You look glazed in erotic anticipation, "I am totally yours, master."
"Bend forward, Erica." You lean forward as I pull the chain from between your breasts. You fall forward, only to feel the chain fastened to your back tighten and keep your bottom raised in the air. I pull down further until you are at right angles, tensioned between two chains. Your legs feel so wide apart. You know the thin silk offers little protection from a hard cock or the thongs of the whips. You struggle with the tension in your arms and find yourself lifting your head to look straight forward and thrusting your breasts wantonly forward. You shudder as I play with your sensitive breasts, "Maybe, a small clip would help you remember your obedience, you wanton slave." You part your lips pleadingly, struggling to adapt to the tension of your bondage, your back arched painfully.
I run my fingers over your turned-on flesh, making you tremble. I decide to do it differently, an improvement in Erica's plight. I take a small harness that wraps over both shoulders and fastens in the middle of the back. You gasp as it tightens, and I fasten another chain from the ceiling to it. It pulls your head and shoulders up, arching your back perfectly.
I stand in front of you. Your taught body offered your mouth to my cock. My fingers run over your lips. "Well, Erica, such a haughty bitch before you discovered your desires. Now desperate to suck my cock and pleasure her true master." You part your lips expectantly. "Fuck my lips, master." Your eyes are glued to the mirror as I walk behind you and touch you inside the silk panties. "Such a wet and wanton slut. Yet, you haven't learned to obey instantly. How you will plead if I chose to ravish you here with soft leather thongs." "I will obey, master. Anything you desire." You almost come at the thought, only the tension of your bonds restricting you. "First, I shall leave you to contemplate your obedience properly. I shall return soon to finish your punishment." | 4 |
47,620 | Baby Allison's Dirty Weekend | 'Look at her. She's such a lovely, stupid little cuntie,' sighed Joey.
Joey Jones, 55, fat, tanned, was sitting on the couch next to his friend Nathan, who was 20 years younger.
Both men were naked and stroking their cocks slowly. The object of their nepiophile desires was little baby Allison, who crawled in front of them on the floor of the living room. The 13-month-old kiddie only had her diapers on. On her head was a cute, knitted hat with a piece of paper attached to it with the words 'Poopy Whore.'
Her stepfather, Nathan, thought this little note would add a special and extra obscene and sickening touch to this nepifest he and his friend were holding. This was what they had been waiting for. He looked with admiration at Joey's huge cock. He had seen this monster many times during cam sessions when Joey masturbated to pictures that Nathan had taken of baby Allison in various stages of taking a poop. Both men became intimate jackbuddies, stroking almost every day c2c, moaning and eventually shouting obscene words while they looked at baby Allison's poopy pictures.
Nathan loved those cam sessions and especially the copious amounts of semen that Joey was able to shoot when he climaxed. Compared to him, famous pornstars like Peter North, were only amateurs, thought Nathan. Joey could unleash up to ten spurts of daddymilk from his cock in one orgasm. He was a one-man bukkake-machine.
And now Joey was actually with him, visiting for the first time because Nathan's wife had left for a seminar on the west coast. The mother of Allison had no idea what was going on in her home where two sicko pedophiles had her child all for themselves. And for Joey, this was the first time that he would get to play with a real infant instead of masturbating to pictures.
'I knew you were big, but I didn't realize how big,' Nathan said, impressed by the thick, veiny cock Joey was stroking, his tongue hanging out, intensely concentrated on the crawling little kiddycunt. Nathan reached over and caressed the balls of his pedofriend. 'I can see that my little poopy star makes you very happy,' he said. Joey nodded, while he licked some saliva from his lips. 'My god, I haven't been this hard and horny in years. I have to control myself or I'll shoot too soon,' he said. Both men stared at the chubby little legs of Allison and the retard expression on her kiddyface. The lil turd was crawling towards them, making little sounds like 'dada' and 'lala.'
'Yes dada dada,' Nathan mimicked, laughing at the little turd. Allison was too stupid to understand what the evil men on the couch were doing or saying to her. For them, she was just a piece of pedopoopmeat, an object in their evil nepidreams, existing only to fulfill the cravings of sicko men who were interested in kiddy BM.
'Come here you lil whore,' said Nathan. He stood up, his raging hardon swinging, and scooped lil baby Allison up from the floor and sat back down again on the couch. 'You can frenchkiss her,' he said to Joey. Joey leaned towards Allison who was sitting on the lap of her stepfather. The erect penis of Nathan was sticking out between her chubby little legs. Nathan held the little cunt by her ankles and gently rocked the baby up and down so her diaper rubbed against the back of his cockhead. This was almost too much for Joey. He felt dizzy from lust. He leaned over. Seeing an adult, big man close to her, his tongue sticking out and grinning like a madman, made baby Allison scared. She started to cry but Joey shut her up by sticking part of his fat tongue in her little babymouth, without missing a stroke on his giant pedocock. He was tonguefucking her in her skull, enjoying the softness of her wet lil crybabymouth.
This was heaven for both men. The helpless little cunt made their mean cocks harder than ever. 'Let's see if she has a special surprise for us,' Nathan said, while he undid the diapers. What a sight! The sweet smell of babyshit was released in the room. Both men almost cried from lust seeing that Allison had beshitted herself gloriously. Both her hiney and cuntie were smeared with brown, stinky poop. And now that her diapers were off, she farted – prrrrttt, sprriiitt – and some wet babymess shot from her little anus, over the stomach and cock of her stepdaddy. 'Look at that,' said Nathan, fingering the anal opening of his daughter, enjoying the wetness of her stinky bumhole. He held her little baby ankles wide apart, so her poopy surprise was fully exposed. This was the ultimate babyloversdream, a widespread kiddie, poopy on her fat lil cunnie and drying BM around her anus and all over her lil bumcheeks. Feeling that her diapers were off, little dolly Allison began to grunt and pushed sickening poopies toward her gaping anal opening. This was all she was good for, pooping and peeing for evil sicko's. The smell was incredible and the sounds that the little shitqueen made were intoxicating: slither...oooze...slither...plop....plop.
'I'll cum in her lil poophole. You're too big for that. Please cum in her face and mouth my friend and don't forget me my pedolover,' hissed Nathan.
He was on the verge of cumming. Joey stood up, holding his massive cumgun, looking at his young pedobuddy. What a spectacle! The lil farting, pooping, crying baby lying on her back on her stepfather's stomach, chubby legs held wide open, the cockhead of Nathan wriggling to get in her dirty, wet anus, using her dirty excrement as lubricant. 'Poopy whore is going to get some,' Joey shouted and laughed hysterically. He was besides himself. He spat in little baby Allison's tear-strained face and positioned himself so that his cockhead was aiming at her skull. While he stared at his friend's shitstained penis entering the screaming baby, he started to jack off furiously, feeling his balls aching for a massive orgasm. 'Ooh you goddamned lil poopwhore. Joey is coming for you, you lil cunt,' he cried. With one hand he held the little baby's head steady and with the other he pulled on his cock. Nathan had buried his fine pedocock in the asshole of the stupid kiddie, fucking her like a piston. 'There it is,' screamed Joey. Two giant shots of semen hit the baby right in the face and mouth, covering her completely. Two other jets landed higher, on his friends face and the last spurts he aimed at his friends shitstained cock and balls while Nathan screamed and emptied his balls in his daughter's bowels.
Joey had to lie down after his orgasm. The best cumspurts he ever had. Nathan pulled his dirty cock out of baby Allison. The lil cunt was crying. The sight of her was incredible. The poopy lil girl-openings, the cum on her face. What a stupid lil babydoll! Nathan made sure to take a few pictures of the lil piece of pedomeat to show his online friends. Joey stared at the baby and at his own cock. 'Look, it's still hard,' he said. Nathan looked at his friend and said: 'Well, we have all the time in the world to take care of that.'
THE END | 4 |
50,396 | Christmas with the Andersons 4 (family, inc) | 'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone.
Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better.
One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people.
Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor.
Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical.
The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday.
Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl.
The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?"
Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college."
Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?"
Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again."
Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?"
Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line.
Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?"
"Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister."
"And she's hands off -- right?"
"Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night."
Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess."
Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!"
"She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for five months?"
Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time.
"The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'"
"She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer.
"Amanda! Amanda Anderson!"
Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching.
"Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello."
Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?"
Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice."
"Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband.
He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever."
Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas.
Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school."
"Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas."
* * *
Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood. Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes.
And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent.
Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her.
['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy.
* * *
Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone. She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well.
Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching.
Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and, his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement.
* * *
Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food.
Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!"
As Bobby reached the top of the stairs he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall.
Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress.
"Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper."
Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor.
"Merry Christmas, Bobby!"
Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked!
Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hostessing!" With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt.
In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed.
"Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up."
Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples.
"Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?"
Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue.
"Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed.
While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend!
"Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!"
Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure.
"Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!"
Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck!
"MOTHER! Just what are you doing?"
Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me."
And Bobby did.
He was soon coming in strong spurts and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up.
Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?"
"Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!"
"You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time and I'll see you later."
Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby.
"You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?"
Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy.
She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?"
Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was.
['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!]Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth.
Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass!
Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?"
Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed and Mindy rolled over onto her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!"
Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends.
"Hey, bud, where the fuck you been?" Scott asked.
"Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, sure."
"Truth."
Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life!
What a night!
Christmas Eve!
Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush.
Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on and he could always find a movie or two.
Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents.
After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass.
Christmas Day!
Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood.
"Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps.
"Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother."
Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts.
All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day.
Not a creature was stirring...
Everyone had gone to bed early.
Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them.
She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed and put her robe on and went downstairs. The house was quiet, everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream.
There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax.
She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too.
She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple.
['Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.]
As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden.
['I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, 'but this sure feels good!']
Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them.
She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin.
With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed.
She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers.
She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall...
Amanda had Bobby drive her to the mall and drop her off. She had told her mother that she was meeting friends there, but she was lying.
Her first stop was the CD store. It was packed and the Christmas music was blaring over the speakers. Douglas spotted her as she approached the counter.
"Miss, those CDs you ordered came in. Please wait a moment." He called one of the other clerks over to take his place and walked out from behind the counter. He was twenty-six years old and the assistant manager of the store. He was tall, a bit over 6'3" and on the skinny side. He tried to be cool, but he tried even harder to impress his bosses, so he always wore a suit and a tie.
As he approached Amanda, he pointed to the backroom door. "Hi, Amanda. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up, today." He liked young girls and used his ability to pass out CDs and cassettes to get on their friendly side every chance he could.
"I told you I'd be in, Douglas. The CDs are a present."
"Sure. Well, come on in the back."
They stepped into the storeroom and Douglas shut the door behind them. There was a table set up with cold cuts and rolls and cookies. On the shelves were bottles of scotch and bourbon and vodka.
"Having a little party, back here, Douglas?"
"Sure. The boss treated to drinks and food. I can't be away from the front for long, so let's get right to it, Amanda."
Amanda grinned at Douglas, "Did anyone ever tell you how romantic you are?"
"Cut the crap. Let's do it." He opened his pants and lowered his zipper. He was already hard.
Amanda stepped close and curled her fingers around his shaft. "Kiss me, Douglas. I want to be kissed."
Douglas had fucked a lot of teenage girls, but none of them had been as beautiful or as accomplished as Amanda Anderson. Since August, he had been giving her CDs and his hard cock on a weekly basis, and she had been giving him the best sex he ever had.
They kissed and Douglas's hands found their way to Amanda's breasts. She was wearing a vest over a soft turtleneck top. Under the top was only her tits. Her hard nipples were easy to find and Douglas began pulling at them.
"C'mon, Amanda. It's got to be quick, today!"
They separated and Douglas sat down on a small desk chair. Amanda lifted her denim miniskirt and lowered her tiny panties and straddled Douglas on the chair. Within seconds, Douglas's dick was buried to the hilt up Amanda's tight little pussy.
"C'mon, now, and fuck me, Amanda. Give it to me good!" He smiled as he looked at the girl. She was bouncing up and down on his cock. Her eyes were closed tightly and she was breathing hard through her mouth -- moaning and groaning. The bitch truly loved fucking!
As much as he was enjoying it, Douglas felt himself boiling up to blast-off point. And then he was over the top, pulling Amanda down hard on his lap and lifting her by her waist, pumping his cum deep inside her.
He was just about finished coming when...
"What the fuck is going on here?!"
It was the store owner.Peter Abruzzi was thirty-eight, married with four kids, and ran three stores. He was short and bulky, like an old-time running back. He was a tough businessman and a bastard to work for.
Douglas pushed Amanda off his lap and she fell to the floor. She landed there with her skirt up to her waist and her pretty legs spread wide open, flashing an open, wet beaver at the intruder. She quickly stood up as Douglas was zipping up.
"Ah... Mr. Abruzzi... Ah... I can explain!"
"No, you can't, Douglas." He hooked his thumb at the door. "Get back out on the floor. Now!"
When he was gone, Abruzzi looked at the gorgeous teenager standing in front of him. She had paled considerably in the last minute or so and was obviously scared.
"So, tell me. What was he giving you for letting him bone you?"
Amanda was going to lie and say 'nothing,' but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs."
"A boxed set, eh? You that good?"
"He says I am."
"S'at so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?"
Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head.
"No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me."
Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand.
"Taste it, bitch."
Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were.
Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over."
Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told.
Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussy lips. She was tight and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her!
He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy.
"Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good."
Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt. "Can I keep the CDs, mister?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?"
"Yeah, sure. Thank you."
Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob.
"Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas."
Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room.
In front of the fireplace, Amanda let her finger trail down over her smooth stomach and through her pussy hair. Slowly, oh so slowly, she pressed her index finger between her pussy lips and grazed it across her hard little clit.
"OH!"
Sensitive. Very sensitive. She decided not to touch her clit again for a while if she wanted to last a little longer. Go slow. She was looking forward to a great come. She was relaxed and warm and buzzed. Her body was very sensitive, and she had sexy thoughts to think...
Amanda found Snake and Spider at the fountain in the center of the mall. She giggled to herself at their silly nicknames. Snake was really Brandon and Spider was Jason, but they insisted on their friends using their nicknames. Especially when they were decked out in their skateboard "uniforms" the way they were whenever they weren't in school -- baggy jeans, old Converses, long t-shirts and earrings and fake (at least Amanda thought they were fake) tattoos.
"Hey," Spider said. Snake nodded.
"Hey." Amanda had run into the two guys at parties. They were both freshmen in high school and were inseparable.
"What's up?"
"Just shopping. I saw a pipe I'd like for my father, but I can't afford it."
"Tough."
"Yeah. I was wondering..."
"Yeah?"
Amanda had a feeling they knew what she was going to ask them, but they weren't volunteering anything. "Yeah. I was wondering, like, if we could work out some kind of trade. I really want that pipe."
"What ya got to trade?" It was the first thing Snake had said, so Amanda knew he was interested.
Amanda looked down at her feet, acting coy. "You know."
"When? Where?" Spider asked.
Amanda looked up at him, "Now? Here?"
"Deal!" That was Snake.
In the tobacco store, everything went smoothly. The clerk was weighing tobacco for Amanda and had his back to the store. Snake came rolling in and went right to the cigar humidor room and opened the door. The owner stepped quickly after him, telling him to shut the door. Spider popped into the store, Amanda pointed at the pipe in its nice little box and everything disappeared under Spider's shirt before he popped out of the store, again.
They met in the utility access hall, outside the restrooms.
Spider gave Amanda her package and Snake checked the men's room and signaled with his head for them to follow.
The three teenagers went to the last stall and closed the door after them.
It was crowded and clumsy, and they all got the giggles every time they heard someone come in and use the facilities, but it was fun and didn't take all that long to complete their business.
The real joke occurred when they were done. They opened the stall door and there was an older man standing at the mirror, combing his hair. They walked across the room, staring straight ahead at the door. They knew the man was watching them in the mirror. They finally reached the door and ran down the hall, laughing hysterically.
Amanda was now on the floor with her back against the sofa. She was closer to the fire and it was almost too hot on her skin, but it still felt so good. Her skin was dry and warm, a lot like when she sunbathes. A lot like when she was sunbathing last summer at the Miller's pool...
Marian Miller was away again. She worked for a publisher and this summer she was travelling with some authors on a long sales trip.
Rasheed and Yolanda were playing in the shallow end. Amanda was on a chaise watching them when Ron opened the back door of the house.
"Daddy's home!"
Both kids squealed and ran to him. After hugging and lifting the kids, Ron waved to Amanda.
"Hi, Mr. Miller. I have dinner ready, if you feel like pasta salad and grilled chicken."
"Sounds great, Amanda. Will you join us?"
"Yeah, stay, Amanda!" yelled Rasheed. He knew if she stayed, he'd get a book or two read to him before bed.
"Well, okay, if you don't mind." This was becoming a habit. Amanda had been babysitting for the Millers for almost a year, but with Marian's travelling, it was a full-time job this summer. Now, for the last week, Amanda would have dinner ready for Ron and the kids and he would invite her to stay. They would do the dishes together and together they would put the kids to bed, and then Amanda would walk home. She felt herself becoming closer to the three of them, like being a part of their family. Marian was some abstract being that lived somewhere out over the phone lines.
Ron, on the other hand, was very much there. He was good-looking and funny. He was very sweet with his children, and was always a gentleman around Amanda. At the same time, Amanda got the impression he found her attractive. She often caught him staring at her in her bathing suit or shorts. She also found him attractive. His skin was smooth looking and the color of coffee with cream in it. He had a thin mustache that she liked. In a bathing suit, it was obvious he worked out. But he didn't bulge like a gym-rat. He was bulked, but hard and smooth. His torso tapered from broad shoulders down to a flat stomach and trim hips.
Then one night, Ron opened a bottle of wine and kept Amanda's glass full during dinner. After they got the kids in bed, he invited her to stay for coffee, telling her he was tired of sitting by himself until bedtime. With the coffee, he served her a Tia Marie mist, and she loved it.
He refilled her coffee and drink and put a movie in the VCR. They both sat on the sofa watching "Sleepless In Seattle." Before the movie ended, they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately.
At that time, Amanda was a virgin. She had made-out with boys when the lights went out at parties, but nothing more serious than that. But this... This was Romance and she was ready to be swept up in its embrace.
Ron stood up and lifted Amanda into his arms. Oh, god, her heart melted! They kissed as he walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He lay her down on the big bed and began to undress. Amanda was in a one-piece bathing suit and beach wrap, which she quickly shed.
Ron moved beside her and caressed her budding breasts. It was the first time anyone besides herself had seen them naked and touched them. She tingled to his soft, gentle touch. Her breathing quickened. He moved his face over one of her breasts and gently sucked a nipple into his mouth. His free hand glided down her body to her pussy. She felt his fingers spreading her lips down there and touching her clitoris, she trembled with so much pleasure, she thought she was going to scream and cry and wet herself all at the same time. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't stand his touch anymore, but she knew she'd die if he stopped.
It was her first orgasm.When she was able to breathe again, she smiled at Ron and hugged him, "Wow! Thank you!"
Ron smiled back and rolled onto his back. His cock looked huge to Amanda, but even she had to admit that she wasn't an expert at the time.
He cradled her head on his shoulder and guided her hand down to his erection.
She was shocked when she touched him. She didn't know what to expect, but what it felt like was a surprise. It was warm and soft. But firm and hard. It was dry and the skin slid up and down on the shaft. The tip was so smooth and the flesh under the round head was so soft. His hair was tight and curly, and covered the sac of balls. She loved it!
She felt his hand on the back of her head and she knew what he wanted. She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that!
She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing.
Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his prick and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man.
Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs.
"Is this your first time?"
Embarrassed, Amanda nodded.
"If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?"
Again, she nodded.
But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain.
Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her pussylips and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop fucking Ron Miller.
And fuck him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe.
As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted. He loved fucking doggie-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her.
When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him and she had shown him she could handle the house -- cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her.
But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids."
Her heart was broken.
But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice.
Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussylips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure!
Just like now!
She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt.
She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry.
OH, GOD, WHAT A COME!
It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god!
She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD!
It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now!
And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over.
Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles.
"Hello, big brother..." | 4 |
52,232 | Submit Bitch (Mdom-Fsub) | 'Get up on the bed, lay down on your back and pull your legs up. I want to see you take those three fingers in your mouth and stick them up your ass.'
'Yes, master.'
You're too far gone, what else can you do, you need to cum. Besides, it sounds like fun.
'You like it when I tell you what to do, don't you, slave?'
'Yes, master,' you really do. 'Very good, slave. Now take them out of your ass, suck them off... yes, very good. Stick them in your ass again... farther, fuck your ass, slave. Do you like to fuck your own ass, slave?'
'Yes, master,' you love that filled-up feeling, oh so close to cumming.
'Don't stop fucking your own pussy, slave.'
You're cumming, cumming, 'Ahhhhhhh!' 'What are you doing, slave?'
'I'm cumming, master... Ahhhhh, I'm cumming, master...'
You've never cum so hard in your life... again and again, you just keep cumming. Three fingers in your pussy and three in your ass, it feels so good you don't want it to stop. But I pull your damp, sticky hands from your ass and pussy, put them to your mouth, and you lick them clean. I pull them over your head towards the wooden headboard where I handcuff them, locking you to the bed. Now what do I have in mind for you?
Now that you are handcuffed to the bed, I leave the room and go to the bathroom. When I return, you see a can of shaving cream and a razor! You begin a weak protest,
'No, don't shave my pussy! Please, master, don't shave me!'
'A true slave must be bare before her master!' I explain.
'Please, master, I'll do anything, please...' you twist in your restraints, bucking your hips and thighs in a vain attempt to break free.
'I know you'll do anything I say, but I don't remember asking you to speak. Now you will be gagged to teach you how to be quiet!'
With that, I grab your panties and stuff them in your mouth, securing them with an old tie. You look on helplessly as I cover your sex with foam and begin to shave you bare. I work slowly and deliberately, removing every trace of hair from your pussy. Now your beautiful bald pussy glistens, I rub your nub quickly between my fingers, making you moan and twitch. Then, slowly tracing the outline of your sex with my finger, I dip into your hot pussy, covering it with your sweet juice. Sucking your juice from my finger, I see your clit protruding from its sheath, begging to be caressed, you moan deeply, urging me to release you. Your eyes meet mine, I see that look of lust in your eyes, burning in you, I know what it is you want and I stop, I want you on the brink again.
I open the oil from the kitchen and slowly drip it on your calves and thighs, gently massaging it in. Dragging my fingers up your calves to your thighs, I continue to slide and glide my hands over your legs, teasingly close to your sex, keeping you on the brink. Pouring a small pool on your belly, I spread it over your whole body. Paying special attention to your breasts, I massage them, pulling on your hardened nipples, flicking them between my fingers, teasing you, driving you crazy with lust. Working the oil into your skin, I make your breasts shine. Each is aglow from the oil, shimmering in the light. Your body is tense, the sexual tension in your body controls you, you are powerless against your urges. I stop and ask, 'Are you my slave?'
You eagerly nod your head in understanding, straining in your bonds, wanting to give me a sign of your surrender.
'So you are my slave, you will do then as I tell you or be disciplined. Do you agree?'
Again, you nod your head in surrender.
'When you have earned my cock through your obedience, you will taste it. When you have earned my cock through devotion, you will have it in your ass. And when you have earned my cock through your creativity, you will have it in your pussy. Do you understand?'
You nod this time with full realization. With that, I leave the room and return with a cucumber about my size. I untie the gag and place the cucumber to your lips, saying, 'Until you have earned my cock, this will be your satisfaction. Show me you want my cock.'
With that, you lewdly wrap your lips around the cucumber, sucking it deep into your mouth, licking its entire length and kissing it all over.
'Very good, slave,' I say, 'now we will see how your pussy likes it.'
Pulling it from your mouth, I spread your lips and slowly glide the entire cucumber into your hot sex. Quickly, you move your hips up and down, eager to get relief, but I don't let you. I pull it out and bring it to your lips. You suck your sweet juice from it, licking the length of the cucumber suggestively. Teasing you, I rest it on your bare pussy, just touching your clit, pressuring your sensitive bud. I move to the headboard and free your hands.
'Slave, I want to see where you want my cock first. I want you to fuck yourself, you choose where to begin.'
'Thank you, master,' you respond hungrily, happy to show how good a slave you are.
Now what to do? Closing your eyes, you grab the cucumber, first sucking it deep in your throat as best you can. Kneeling on all fours in the middle of the bed, you turn your ass to me. Spreading your legs wide, you open your asshole and pussy, running the cucumber over your lips, you tease yourself. Then, plunging it deep into your cunt, you wickedly fuck yourself. Pulling it from your sex, you place it against your Hershey hole, with one motion you impale your ass. Slowly at first, stretching your asshole to accommodate the invader, a moan escapes your lips as you drive the cue in and out. Rotating the fake phallus deep in your ass, you build the tempo, working yourself to a backdoor climax. Knees weak, you collapse on the bed, still impaled on the cucumber.
'Very good, slave, now to demonstrate your obedience to me, I have one more test. First, I want you to shower. If you perform well in this test, you will taste me tonight.'
You quickly shower and dry off, looking for your clothes, you see that I have given you only your garter belt, hose, and shoes, but added a collar.
Dressing, you meet me in the living room. You see I have a medium-sized butt plug in my hand, your asshole twitches in anticipation.
'Very good, slave, this is all you will wear while you are here. Before we go, I want you to remember your place, bend over.'
Looking between your legs, you see me grease the butt plug, spreading your ass cheeks, you feel me slip the plug into your ass, giving you that full feeling again. Letting you stand up, I hand you your coat and head for the door.
'Now we will go,' I say as I open the door and step out.
Where will we go? Getting on the highway, we drive along for a while in silence, finally, I break the silence with this command, 'Take off your coat and rub your breasts. I want you to get your nipples hard.'
Taking off your coat, you slowly rub your breasts, closing your eyes, you block out the road noise and concentrate on teasing your nipples. As your nipples get hard, you feel the first twitches in your pussy, your asshole contracts around the butt plug, sending little tingles up and down your body, magnifying your arousal. You're drawn back to the present with the sound of a truck horn, honking next to you. Your eyes flash open in time to see the beefy truck driver grinning in his mirror. You stop on instinct, hearing my sharp command as your face flushes and your pussy warms even more.
'Did I tell you to stop? Pull on your nipples, get them hard again.'
Starting again, you pull on your nipples, closing your eyes, you lean back in the seat. Thinking about the driver, you imagine his hard dick straining against his pants, you imagine his dick on your lips, your mouth opens as you imagine his cock pushing past your lips. You stick your tongue out as your hand wanders off your breast to your clit.Pulling it from its sheath, you quickly rub the nub with your index finger. Working some pussy juice from your lips, you rub your clit quickly, working on your first orgasm.
"Very good slave, now taste yourself, show the drivers your wet pussy."
Boldly, you slip two fingers into your dripping sex, thrusting deep. You pull them from your pussy and seductively suck first one, then the other, into your mouth. Opening your eyes, you see a line of vehicles passing you on your right. Keeping the two fingers in your mouth, you take your other hand from your breast and rub your slit, spreading your pussy lips wide. You hotly rub your clit, climaxing loudly.
"Very good slave, you have almost passed. Now take the plug from your ass. I want you to fuck both your pussy and asshole!"
Sliding down farther in the seat, you pull the plug from your asshole with a loud pop! Sucking two fingers in your mouth, you slip them in your waiting butthole. Slipping two in your pussy, you begin rocking back and forth in the seat. Wave after wave builds in your sex, building the tempo. You arch your back, thrusting your breasts up and out. You see a woman driver pass by, open-mouthed. Imagining that woman's pussy over your mouth, you lewdly stick your tongue out as a third finger joins the other two in your ass. Faster and faster, you run your fingers in and out, tensing as you feel your climax rising. Moaning out loud, you cum again.
"Excellent slave, you have earned my cock!" I respond.
Looking at my crotch, you see the bulge of my cock. Reaching over, you unzip my pants and free my cock. Oblivious to the rest of the world, you slide your lips over my cock, tasting the pre-cum. You slurp loudly, bobbing your head up and down, holding on to my cock with one hand while you pump your mouth up and down.
Feeling my climax build, you suck as much of my dick in your mouth as you can. You taste the first spurts of my cum, quickly swallowing it. You finger your own pussy as I flood your mouth with the rest of my load. Sucking the last drop from my dick, you continue to finger your own pussy, flashing passersby with a full moon. Cumming again, you're finished with my cock, tucking it back into my pants. Pulling off the highway, I turn around and head back home. | 4 |
53,891 | Stockholm Syndrome | 'Well,' the policeman stated, 'you should upgrade your security. Burglars often return to the same house when they think that the insurance has paid out.'
'I'll do that.' It was a bit of a grumpy reply, but then I was severely pissed off.
I had just moved my stuff into my new house when I had been burgled. Some expensive guitars and a laptop had gone while I had been going to and fro between the old address and the new one. The new address was much closer to the city centre, so less commuting, and it was much more space for the money.
The downside was that it lay on the border between a newly gentrified section and an older, rougher area; presumably the home of my opportunist burglars. It wasn't the money – honest – it was the thought of someone invading my space and helping themselves to my gear, maybe someone who had been watching me. I raged internally and thought of physically attacking the next person who tried to burgle me. A perfectly normal reaction, I thought.
Another reason I had chosen this house was that it had a good-sized, dry cellar with electrics and plumbing. I had arranged with a local builder to use special soundproof plasterboard to re-plaster the walls. The cost was only £10 a sheet more than normal plasterboard. With the addition of a shower, toilet, small stove, fridge, and a camp bed, someone could live in it. I didn't intend to rent it out, but for occasional use as a spare bedroom if necessary.
Its main purpose was as a music room where the elevated sound levels would not bother the neighbours. I bought two heavy, insulated doors, one as a back door and the other for the cellar. As a test, I played music through a 100-watt speaker. There was no sound leakage to the upper floor. There, the matter might have rested except for the trivial coincidence of a female colleague lending me 'Fifty Shades of Grey' at this point in my life.
I have to say that I enjoyed it, although it was the exchange of emails which I enjoyed most. It was almost like reading Jane Austen for the 21st century. The BDSM sections which caused the notoriety didn't do much for me except pique my curiosity about what an authentic scene would involve. I found a relevant site in about sixty seconds on the internet. The first clip was of a couple who enjoyed spanking. There was nothing to scare the horses there, I thought.
The next one left me aghast. If this had come from a police cell somewhere, Amnesty International would have organised a demonstration outside the relevant embassy in three days flat. A naked woman was led to what looked like a picnic table with the legs shortened. She kneeled down, on the seat as it were, and stretched out her body and arms across the table.
Two women in stereotypical dominatrix clothes strapped her ankles and wrists so that her body was pinioned and her buttocks prominently displayed. One of the dominatrices barked instructions in a language which was not English. She then chose a cane from a bundle and swished it as though to test it. Up to this point, I thought that I was watching an unthreatening role-play. The cane was poised and then swung horizontally. The noise of it connecting with solid flesh was no pretence.
The naked woman gasped and then counted what presumably was 'one!' This had left a livid weal across both buttocks. I started to feel a bit uneasy about watching this. This was repeated until there must have been ten blows. The camera moved in and the screen filled with the buttocks which were bleeding and bruised. Another woman was led to the device. I clicked off and sped to the end of the video. There were four naked women kneeling on a couch with their backs to the camera which framed the buttocks. All had presumably been flogged in the same way as the buttocks and sometimes the tops of the thighs bore the marks of the cane.
Despite my unease at what I had seen, that image began to colonise my mind. To have someone bound and unable to resist physical punishment, indeed, to be complicit in it, seemed most attractive. Particularly when I transferred the image to the person who had burgled me, how good would that be? I began to visualise the burglar in the same position, counting the strokes and displaying the marks of abuse; how satisfying would that be?
I began to develop a bit of split personality, preparing for such a scheme while denying that it could ever take place. Ikea provided a solid table and a bed, both to be bolted to the floor. Internet sites provided the restraints for the table, manacles, canes, some new security items and a curious ex-government hardware store from which I collected a chain, sold by the metre. It looked as if it could restrain a tank. The last thing was a baseball bat. I wrapped an old sheet around it and taped it down.
The tricky bit was measuring where I wanted to bolt the chain to the floor. It had to be long enough to reach the shower, the toilet, the table and the bed but nothing else. The new security cameras were expensive, as I had bought ones which were designed to be discreet, and which contained an infrared option and were connected to a computer hard drive which could store months of data. Was I ready? Yes.
I left my replacement stuff out on display with the curtains open. I would drive off in the evening and leave a small light on to invite interest. When I came back, I would review the security recordings. With a fast-forward option, this only took a few moments per evening. I was beginning to think that my burglar or burglars had no interest in me when I caught something on the fast forward. Someone was definitely interested in the house and the entrance at the back. Game on!
The next time I left the house, I just parked a block away and quickly came back. I let myself in through the back gate, then the back door and left them both unlocked. Everything I needed was to hand. All I needed to do was hide myself where I could see the monitor for the cameras. Two hours later, he appeared. He crept past the back once and then twice. He hesitated, "Come on!" I thought.
"Yes!" He took the bait and opened the gate, and insinuated himself up to the door. Luckily for him, I had oiled the hinges so it opened silently. This appeared to give him some confidence as he came in, found nothing of interest in the kitchen, so he entered the room where I was waiting. He couldn't help himself. He went straight to the laptop and lifted it up. Even with my eyes shut and with dark glasses which I had put on as he came in, the blinding light was like watching the 1950's atomic bomb tests. The security searchlight only came on for a few seconds, but it was designed to blind any thief who lifted an item off the pressure pad which was connected to the device. I bought it from America and the leaflet which came with it suggested that it might be illegal in the UK. I cared?
My burglar was swearing and staggering around holding his eyes. "Now or never," I thought. I gripped the bat and swung at his head. A soft thump was followed by a precipitate collapse. The first pair of handcuffs went around his wrists, the second around his feet. I picked him up with my arms round his chest and dragged him to the cellar. I went down first and he followed with his feet banging down the stairs. When I had been really mad, I envisaged doing this the other way around with his head banging on the stairs.
I unshackled the cuffs on his feet, wrestled off his shoes and socks, attached one foot to the free end of the chain. Checked his breathing, dragged him onto the table face down with his torso flat and his feet on the ground; tied his lower legs with the restraints bolted to the table leg, cut off all his clothing with scissors, unshackled the handcuffs and tied his wrists with the restraints bolted to the top of the table. Checked his breathing once again, checked his arms for tracks, put a mask over his eyes and a ball gag over his head onto his neck.
Now naked and completely unable to move off the table, I picked up a bucket and put it between his knees and inserted the tube from a rubber ball filled with soapy water into his anus. I squeezed and his reflex pushed the water out to the bucket. He urinated as well; a good sign. I did this a few more times and threw the contents of the bucket down the toilet. I used an anti-bacterial wipe to clean everything, including his buttocks.
There is now a line and I was about to cross it. I picked up a latex glove, put it on and smeared lubricant onto the fingers. I gently inserted one finger. I carefully moved it around. The second finger was also no trouble, while the third took a little more delicacy but soon moved in and out. I took off the glove and looked at my burglar.He was young, his buttocks were a bit too skinny, and he was about to experience the worst night of his life. The stretching seemed to have brought him back to life.
"Where am I?"
So far, so stereotypical.
"I hope you are going to listen carefully to me," was my helpful reply. This produced a stream of invective, as I had hoped. I put the ball gag in his mouth and chose a cane. I swished it near his ears and then rested it across his buttocks. That certainly got his attention. The cane slipped through the air, apparently with no help from me. A livid weal marked its presence across the buttocks. It might have been screams which leaked from the gag or not. I couldn't tell. I didn't care.
"I had hoped that wouldn't be necessary," I purred in what I hoped was a menacing fashion, "so, we need to start again. Are you listening carefully?"
He nodded.
"Tonight, you have no choice about what happens next. You will be flogged, and you will be fucked." As I had hoped, there was more noise from the victim. I carefully placed the cane just lower than the first stripe, and again it seemed to whip across of its own accord. When the mewling stopped, I changed my grip on the cane and gave his cock a small tap, which I repeated on his testicles.
"Have you got the point yet? You do not make a sound unless I allow it. You will address me as sir. I am going to flog you, and your only sound will be to count out each stroke. If you do not follow these rules, I will flog you until you do, and then we will start on the number of strokes which I have decided, and you will count. Do you understand?"
Quite a lot of muffled something. Once more the cane sang through the air. I repeated the rules; silence. I pulled the ball gag down, measured the stroke, and let go.
"One," he shouted.
"A bit quieter," I ordered.
"Two ... Three ... Four ... Five ... Six."
It had worked. I had bent him to my will, and here he was, my would-be burglar, counting out the strokes as I decorated his buttocks with red stripes. I had been concerned that I would be turned off by actually doing this and sabotage the next act of revenge; needlessly worried as it turned out. I put his gag back on, unbuttoned my jeans, and strode forward. His arse wasn't quite at the most comfortable height, but all-in-all that was a small impediment. I pulled his cheeks apart. I mentally scolded myself for not shaving this while he was still unconscious. I put my cock at his entrance. A moan from the gag ensued.
I squeezed his balls very lightly to remind him of the silence rule. He was a quick learner as he shut up. The head of my cock seemed to hesitate. Perhaps more lubricant was necessary? This was soon remedied. Very gradually, I slipped past the tight ring and slid in and out with ease. I must have been very turned on as in no time I felt an orgasm building from the bottom of my cock and exploding out, again and again.
A small part of my brain began to wonder why flogging someone against his will excited me so much. This clearly wasn't just a vengeful householder taking revenge for feeling violated. This was much darker and presumably had always existed, but suppressed. The burglary was merely the opportunity to put into practice something which had lain dormant. The revenge was sweet, but what did it say about me?
From the fridge, I took out some cloths which I had soaked and put in the freezer. I smothered the wounds in an antiseptic first and placed the now iced cloths on the wounds. I slipped off the gag and asked if he wanted a drink. He nodded. I removed the eye mask, released one arm, and placed a bottle of water with a straw on top in his hand. On the counter, there was a toaster and a microwave. I made toast and beans. For the first time, the practicalities of keeping someone prisoner began to dawn on me.
"I'm going to put this on the table and release your other arm. You should be able to release your legs yourself after that. You will be able to reach the toilet, shower, washbasin, and bed from here. When I come again at night, I will give you a ten-minute warning when you must use the rubber ball and have a shower. Failure to do this promptly will add to any punishment which I choose to administer. If you have any questions, start with 'Sir'."
"Sir, when can I go?"
"Not for a long time."
He looked as if he was about to say something, but my expression changed his mind.
With that, I put his clothes, shoes, and various other bits and pieces into a bin liner and set off up the steps. My parting shot was:
"Maybe you would have been better off if I'd called the police."
I slammed the cellar door for effect. Once the bins had been removed, there would be no record of my unwilling guest in the house.
The End?
Maybe a part 2, depending on the reaction to this. | 4 |
62,156 | Purebred | 'That's a fine bunch of bitches you got there, Jim. Which one you figurin' on entering in the dog show?' Jim nodded to show his appreciation for Mark's compliment, then pointed to the far right.
'That one over there.'
'The Spic?'
'No, no. The one behind her there, over close to the tree, just finishing up taking a leak.' Even as he spoke, the woman once known as Marsha Banks was indeed peeing, her left leg held high as the stream of yellow watered the large maple. She had been a professional writer of educational material once, things the company sent off to high schools as instructional guides.
She had in fact been the best at this sort of thing, and her star had indeed been on the rise. But that was before she had been stalked and eventually captured by Jim. He had approached her as she prepared to enter her car, hitting her on the back of the head so hard that he was afraid he had killed her.
When she awoke, she had a throbbing headache and no clothes. She soon realized she was penned in a large backyard. Across and behind her knees ran rigid plastic sheathing. The sheathing prevented her from standing upright; she could walk on all fours, could--with effort--reach about a 3/4 standing position, but only for a moment or two, the strain being too much to maintain. Other than that, she was untouched.
Several hours passed before Jim left his house and entered the pen. Marsha backed up as he approached. Jim smiled reassuringly. 'Don't be frightened. No one going to hurt you, girl. You must be getting a might hungry by now. Here, have some of this.'
Jim was a generous trainer. Others might feed their bitches regular bagged dog food, but not Jim; he always gave all the table scraps he could find to his animals. He also made sure they had water, shade, and decent shelter. The dog house -- which Marsha had not even noticed yet--was a good 6 x 6 feet in size, and nearly 4 feet tall. Such houses don't come cheap, but that was the sort of man Jim was.
Jim knew it would take time for the bitch to adjust. It always did, especially the bright, pretty ones, like Marsha.
As he always told his friends, 'Damn education is what really messes 'em up. Teaches them to be something they aren't. Then I get stuck with the job of retraining them. All I can say for sure is, this job was a lot easier in my daddy's day.'
Two weeks. It took exactly two weeks for Marsha to even begin to come around. Wouldn't eat for the first four days.
Always kept her distance whenever Jim came around. Tried repeatedly to walk upright -- her only hope of escaping, she realized -- until she was so exhausted she fell asleep outside her dog house, even in bad weather. Her beautiful hair looked straggly, and she grew increasingly dirty. Fact is, by the end of that second week she was a complete mess. Marsha came to realize this, and it was this fact -- that she was totally abandoned and at the mercy of this stranger and, to top it all off, she was a physical wreck -- that broke her spirit. Marsha learned to settle down.
Jim saw the change and moved to take advantage of it. He entered the pen, walked right up to her, and looked her over. At such close range, he could see just how messy she had become. 'Hell, I'm raisin' purebred dogs here, not pigs.' He put a collar around her neck and a leash. He pulled gently on the leash and led Marsha towards his house. She meekly followed, her dirt-encrusted hair hanging in clumps on either side of her face, matching her gait and keeping movement with her large, swaying tits.
He led her up to the back porch and tied his end of the leash to a railing. He went inside for a minute and returned with dog shampoo, a brush, and a hose. The other end of the hose was attached to the kitchen faucet. He knelt down beside Marsha and let the water run over her beautiful body. He lathered her up good and scrubbed the accumulated crud off of her body. He sprayed her clean of dirt and suds, then dried her off. 'There you go, girl. Now you're lookin' pretty as a picture again.' He patted her ass and walked her back to her pen. Marsha sobbed but did not protest.
Marsha, of course, had not completely given up. She had simply realized that any escape was going to take lots of time and lots of thought. But as the time and the thoughts went by and no possibility of escape appeared, she gradually grew accustomed to being treated as a bitch. Over several months, Jim spent an increasingly amount of time with her, teaching her how to walk properly, to sit up and beg, with tongue panting and eyes wide open.
He taught her to catch a frisbee with her teeth; he particularly enjoyed watching her leap for the object flying towards her, her arms moving up, her tits flopping wildly, her fluffy pubic hairs clearly visible. Jim felt he had indeed lucked out when he had acquired Marsha Banks.
After six months, Marsha could be said to be completely broken in. She shit and pissed out in the open without giving it a thought; she drank and ate from her doggie dishes as though she had been brought up that way. She moved around the yard, looking for things to capture her attention.
On bad nights, Jim had taken her into the house and let her curl up on his lap while he watched television. He stroked her body, giving special attention to her ass and pussy. He liked stroking her pussy until it became sopping wet. Jim would laugh then, and move his fingers up into her cunt hole, all the time praising her as the finest of doggies.
He did not even feel the need to break her down by reading newspaper articles to her about her former life: how her boyfriend had become engaged to another woman, or how the company had given her job away. Or how her old apartment had been rented out, or how her credit rating had been ruined by non-payment of bills. None of this was necessary, Jim realized. Marsha was doing just fine, just fine.
Over a year's time, Jim acquired several more bitches. A young Hispanic girl with the shiniest black hair he had ever seen; two black women in their early 20s, college girls whom, he was delighted to find out, had been on the cheerleading squad. He found another white bitch, one with flaming red hair. But she caused so much trouble with the other dogs, Jim had to have her put to sleep. One good thing came of this: the other new bitches immediately took the hint.
A week after showing off his kennel to his friend, Jim entered Marsha in the local dog show. She had lived up to his expectations, taking home the blue ribbon. As she jumped out of the car (he no longer had to keep her on a leash all the time), Jim whistled and motioned for Marsha to come in the house.
Marsha crawled over to Jim and gleefully followed him inside. Jim led her to the living room and snapped his fingers, indicating she was to jump up onto the coffee table. He patted her head with one hand and undid his pants with the other. 'Damn, but we showed them, didn't we, girl? I knew you could do it! And we are going to do it again next year, aren't we? Damn right we are!'
He now moved up behind Marsha and gently slapped the underside of her cunt. She obediently lowered her head, her big tits stroking the table. At the same time, she lifted her ass. Jim moved his cock into position and slowly drove the long hard shaft into Marsha's cunt. She groaned as he began to methodically fuck her.
'Know what else?' he panted. 'You're a certified purebred now, with a blue ribbon to boot. It's time we bred you, girl. Time for you to have your first litter.'
Marsha responded by rocking her head back and forth, still groaning as the man emptied his cum into the most wonderful bitch he had ever owned. | 3 |
64,475 | Food For Thought | 'Stunning,' I thought, as I walked into the bedroom. She was standing in front of the long mirror, fastening the last two or three buttons of the twenty or so which held together the front of her ankle-length dress. I hadn't seen her in it before, but liked it at once. It clung where it touched, showing off nicely her figure, and its color – emerald green – offset to perfection her coppery-red shoulder-length hair. I still fancied her wildly even though we'd been married for nearly three years.
'Shame we have to go out tonight,' I said, 'when I've been away all week. I'd have liked a quiet evening in.' Her eyes twinkled as she turned. 'I know exactly what you mean. I'm feeling horny too. But we have to go – they're new people in the neighborhood and they asked us a while ago if we'd go round and have a meal with them. Maybe we'll be back not too late, then....' Her voice tailed off, but I knew what she meant. I put my arms around her from behind and buried my face in her sweet-smelling hair. 'I don't suppose we have time now?' I ventured. 'Don't be silly. We're due there in fifteen minutes.'
Two hours later, I was happier. We'd had lots to drink and a very nice meal, and Mike and Kate were good company. In fact, in my horny state, I was quite taken with Kate. She was petite and dark, very dark, and smolderingly sexy. And her skirt was so short I could let my imagination run riot. I was sitting alongside her, and spent most of the time chatting to her while Jane was well occupied by Mike over the other side. But really all I wanted was to get home and have a night of unbridled sex.
Mike and Kate's house was modern, and we were sitting around a large glass table. So I was able to see when Mike lightly rested his hand on Jane's leg. It was only a tiny gesture but intriguing: if he left it there, she would of course smile at him and push it away. They hadn't noticed that I was watching, though, and it's not what happened. He rested it there, but she didn't react at all, just carried on talking to him.
It stayed there for a full minute, not moving, and then very slowly his fingers went between the buttons and inside the dress. I carried on talking, trying to make sure they hadn't noticed me watching, but I was amazed she let him go on. The buttons were a bit close, so he slipped one open to allow better access. Now his entire hand moved inside. Her legs were open a little, and she adjusted her position, making it slightly easier for him. Suddenly I saw her stiffen: he had obviously touched somewhere very sensitive, and she was having to concentrate hard in order to remain in control.
I was in two minds. My rational sober self told me to intervene and to tell him I was annoyed. But another more evil spirit told me that it would be much more interesting to let them continue. He could enjoy himself for a while – and I would of course enjoy the same rights with Kate – then we could go home and Jane would be well ready for a night of passion. I picked up my glass and drained the contents, helping myself to another at once.
But the drink had made my glances more obvious, and now they both realized that I was watching them. Jane smiled quizzically at me as if to say 'What are you thinking?' I shrugged my shoulders. She relaxed. Mike withdrew his hand and swiftly undid all the buttons downwards, and brushed the two sides of the dress away to the sides. It revealed that Jane had decided that she would not wear underwear this evening. She never wore a bra, but going out without panties usually meant that she was hot.
Her thighs, separated now that they were not constrained by the dress, pointed upwards to the neatly trimmed fur of her moistened pussy. It looked beautiful, even to me who so often had had the pleasure of stroking and licking it. I felt myself swelling with excitement, and weirdly I wanted him to play with her for me.
Kate shifted her hand onto my leg and up to my bulging pants. 'That is nice,' she said, 'and we both want some of it, but first I want you to tell Mike what you'd like him to do.' He was waiting, watching as his wife stroked me. 'What do you want me to do, Chris?' he repeated. I stuttered, then as if it was someone else speaking and I had no control over my own voice, 'Mike, I want you to fuck Jane with your fingers.' Jane looked across at me, hardly believing what she heard but betraying pleasure at the fact that I wanted him to do it. 'As you wish,' he replied, 'but not just yet.'
He stood up and moved behind Jane. He put his hands on her shoulders, and then slowly started to undo the remaining buttons of her dress. As he moved down, the dress gradually opened more and more until only one button, over her belly, held the garment together. 'Just one left,' he said, 'Who'd like to finish it?' Kate jumped up. 'Please let me,' she pleaded and walked round the table. He grinned at her. 'O.K.' Her long manicured fingers tugged at the button. She pretended to be having difficulty, just to prolong the moment, then pushed it through. She didn't need to help the dress away; it fell off, leaving her stretched back in the chair quite naked.
'Oh Mike, isn't she lovely?' Kate gasped. He stretched his arms over her shoulders and started to massage her tits, stroking the nipples with the palm of his hands. Kate went down between her legs and touched the insides of her thighs. Slowly her fingers explored the smooth skin, then the fur, finally the moist lips before she gently pushed two of them between the folds. They went in without resistance – Jane was obviously well oiled! And from where I was sitting, Kate's skirt had ridden up just enough to show me her pale blue thong, and the tight curves of her delightfully shaped bottom. I couldn't resist pulling down my zip, and releasing my throbbing cock.
I had to admire this couple. They had no inhibitions and simply lived out the very fantasies that I had always had and always hid. Maybe Jane had enjoyed similar ones and now had the opportunity to live them out. I put aside the idea of rushing home; that could wait and might be all the more exciting as a result of these unexpected developments. Jane was completely lost – her eyes were closed, her arms pushed backwards to thrust her breasts forward onto his hands, and her legs tightened around the girl's arms.
She was enjoying it and wanting more. Kate worked her fingers hard for a few minutes, then pulled out and stood up before Mike. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue forcefully into her mouth. She responded by unfastening his shirt and his pants and stripping him naked before removing her own clothes. I was now the only one dressed, and decided I must join the three of them.
As I took off my shirt, Kate beckoned me over. 'Don't want to waste these two,' she grinned. And her two hands each grasped a hardened love-tool. I have to say that Mike's put mine to shame; it was at least two inches longer, and much thicker. Jane too had noticed the difference; this would be a new experience for her (I assumed!). For a while, she passed her expert hands along our straining cocks, coaxing from them extra millimetres as we both stroked the soft skin of Jane's excited body. It suddenly struck me that during the whole of this experience Jane had said not a word. It was as if by being silent she was heightening the emotions and feelings which were running through her body.
But now Mike led her gently to the thick rug, which sat before the blazing log fire, and motioned her to lie on it. She did so, Kate sitting cradling her head. Then, raising her knees high as she could, and forcing them wide apart, she prepared herself to take this monster into her electrified body. At last she spoke, 'For fuck's sake, Mike, fuck me as hard as you can. I want you desperately.' And as he did, I realized I was seeing a completely new side to my wife's life that I'd never known existed.
I only hoped it would enhance our own sex life, but I wasn't sure.But it isn't okay to have unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4 million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! | 4 |
65,523 | Carol's Weekend | 'So how was your game last night?' she asked brightly as Ian came into the kitchen. Without replying, he walked over to the coffee percolator and poured himself a cup before turning to face her, his buttocks resting against the work surface.
'OK,' she said, laughing, 'so how much did you lose, £50, £100. More?'
His gaze induced a little flutter of concern in her stomach as he slowly sipped his coffee.
'Rather more than that, I'm afraid,' he said quietly. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he mumbled something that she could not catch.
'How much?' she queried, her tone hardening a little.
'I lost you,' he said quietly, unable to look at her.
'What on earth do you mean, you lost me?' she replied, her voice tinged with nervous humour.
'It was the last play of the night,' he said, 'I had an incredible hand and the betting just kept going on and on, but I knew I couldn't lose, so I just kept on going. Eventually, it was just me and Frank left and the pot was massive. I ran out of money, and the rules state that you can't borrow from anyone around the table. Anyway, Frank said that he would offer me ten thousand against you.'
Carol stared at him disbelievingly, too horrified almost to hear the outcome, yet knowing it already. 'And you lost?' she whispered.
'Four tens to his four queens,' replied Ian. 'I couldn't believe it. Anyway, I told Frank that I would deliver the cash to him today, but he just looked at me as if I had gone mad and told me that the bet had been you, not $10,000.'
'And if I don't go to him, you lose the contract, is that it?' Carol finished for him.
Ian shook his head, miserably. She watched the tears roll down his face and turned her gaze away from him, not because she was ashamed to see her husband cry, but so that he could not guess at the flutter of excitement that coursed through her.
For several minutes, there was absolute silence before Carol dared to speak.
'What conditions am I supposed to accede to?' she asked in a firm, businesslike tone.
Ian started to tell her that they would not go through with it, but she cut him short, asking again what the conditions were.
'We are supposed to go and stay with him at his house in the country next weekend, and he will have total control over us for forty-eight hours.'
'I see,' said Carol and stood and left the kitchen.
In the bedroom, alone, she stood in front of the mirror and opened her bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor. She appraised herself in the looking-glass and was proud of what she saw. A lean, well-proportioned body with firm breasts, a flat stomach, long athletic legs at the juncture of which lay her hairless pussy. Staring at herself, she reached down and touched her slit, and as she knew it would be, felt the wetness on her prominent lips.
'So Frank is going to fuck me, eh?' she thought. And smiled.
That evening, she waited until Ian had settled in front of the TV before she entered the room and stood in front of him.
'I will go through with this,' she said in a tone that begged no interruption, 'on one understanding.
'You chose to value me in a bet at ten thousand pounds with no regard for me. Well, I will do whatever Frank wants with no regard for you, because I want to. Neither you nor any man could force me to settle your bet against my will, but in my settling it, you will pay dearly for having treated me this way. Do you understand?' Looking down at her husband, she saw him nod miserably before she turned and left the room.
On the Tuesday evening, the phone rang during the morning. Carol picked up the receiver and was surprised to find that it was Frank.
'Before you say anything, Carol, will you please listen to what I have to say?' he said in a calm tone.
When she did not reply, he spoke once more. 'Ian has told me that you have agreed to settle his outstanding debt to me, but if you say to me now that you do not wish to, then I will say no more, and further, I shall not cancel the contract with him.'
There was a pause of several long seconds before Carol replied. 'I will clear the debt,' she said simply.
'Wonderful,' Frank said calmly, 'then I require you to do the following. Get a pen and paper and jot this down so that you do not forget.'
Her heart pounding, she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and wrote down exactly what he said. When he had finished speaking, she said goodbye and set the phone down. She looked down and self-consciously pulled her finger from her soaking pussy, fascinated by the fact that it was there in the first place.
Aroused beyond belief and amazed at her reaction, she walked over to the fridge and opened the door. Reaching inside, she took out a small cucumber and, sinking to the floor, she opened her robe, spread her legs, and slid the vegetable deep into her sopping cunt. Minutes later, she lay on the floor of her kitchen, gasping for air as the dark, green phallus slipped from her engorged lips. Rarely had she experienced such an intense orgasm.
Friday arrived with the inevitability of every other day, and after Ian left for work, Carol packed their cases and set about preparing herself for the events that lay ahead.
When Ian returned, she had everything ready, and after a quick snack, they loaded the car and drove the two-hour route to Frank's weekend retreat. As their car crunched noisily over the gravel, they both saw Frank open the door of the large house and wave to them. Stopping the car, they both got out, and after initial greetings were done, they unloaded the car and followed their host into the cool hallway.
'This way,' Frank commanded them, calmly, yet with an air that was not easy to disobey, as he led them up the flight of wide stairs to the first floor. Opening a door on his right, Frank stood back and allowed Ian, who was behind him, to enter.
'Give me Carol's suitcase, Ian,' he said quietly. There was a short pause before Frank repeated the statement, an edge of hardness entering his voice. Unable to look at him, Ian handed over Carol's case. Stepping back into the hall, Frank stretched out his hand, inviting Carol to proceed down the hall. Without looking at Ian, she did as she was invited.
'Here we are,' said Frank, stopping and opening a door that gave onto a gloriously decorated master bedroom, dominated by an enormous bed. Stepping past her, he placed the case on a table against one wall. 'I will see you in thirty minutes downstairs,' he said, smiling warmly at her, 'you will not speak to Ian from now on without my express permission, nor will you touch him or allow him to touch you in any way.'
Carol let out her breath as the door closed behind him and surveyed the room and its furnishings before she opened her suitcase and found some space in the wardrobe to hang her clothes. She stared at the large, sealed brown bag that lay at the bottom of the case and, picking it up, placed it on the centre of the bed before finding the en-suite bathroom and freshening herself up.
Meanwhile, Frank was standing in front of Ian in the guest bedroom. 'Remember, Ian, that I own both of you for the next forty-eight hours. You will do exactly as I say at all times and without hesitation. You know the consequences should you or Carol fail me in any way.'
As Ian nodded his head, Frank took in the noticeable bulge in Ian's trousers and smiled to himself.
Carol found her way to the large drawing room exactly on time to discover Frank sitting at a desk writing while the strains of a Puccini opera floated softly through the room. Looking up at her entrance, he smiled warmly and beckoned her over to him. She came and stood before him and closed her eyes as she felt his hands rest on the outsides of her thighs.
Slowly, he raised her short summer frock until her high-cut white panties were fully displayed to him. Gently, he massaged the round, taut cheeks of her arse, watching intently as the fabric of her knickers stretched tightly over her pudenda, perfectly outlining her shaven lips. Ever so slowly, under his careful massage, a small dark spot started to grow on the fabric.
Behind her, Frank saw Ian enter the room and stop abruptly as he saw the powerfully built man caress his wife's perfect buttocks.
'Go outside and return in five minutes, Ian,' ordered Frank. Ian hesitated only briefly before he turned and left the room.
'Carol, please kneel down and take out my cock,' he said calmly, 'and then if you would be good enough to suck it for me, please.'
Carol sank, trancelike, to her knees and reached forward to draw the zip of his trousers down. Reaching into his pants, she seized his cock and released it, unable to resist the little gasp that came as she saw the size of his semi-erect member.Grasping it by the base, she lifted the heavy head to her mouth and slid her lips over it.
Almost immediately, she felt his tool begin to stiffen and grow as she ran her mouth up and down its length, twirling her tongue around its sensitive tip. She squirmed slightly as she felt her pussy spasm and release a trickle of moisture into her rapidly dampening panties.
Ian was reasonably hung, but Carol reveled in the sheer size of Frank's cock, as it was longer and thicker. She felt Frank's hands slide under her arms and gently lift her off her knees. Her mouth lost contact with his prick, and she frowned inwardly. She had expected to suck his beautiful cock for a while longer.
'Take your panties off, Carol,' he told her, 'and place them on the edge of the desk.'
Carol did as she was told, secretly reveling in the now large, wet patch that clearly showed on the white cotton. Carefully, she placed them on the top of the desk before turning back to Frank once more. Grasping her waist, he pulled her towards him, and she felt the engorged knob of his manhood prod between her glistening lips as he raised her skirt from behind.
Gently yet firmly, he drew her down, and she moaned as she felt him stretch her wide, driving his cock deeply into her until she was sitting astride him.
'Stay perfectly still,' he said quietly as he arranged her skirt demurely over her thighs so that it was impossible to see anything untoward in their position.
At that moment, Ian returned, and Frank swung the office chair around until the pair of them faced him as he stood uncertainly in the doorway. 'Sit in that chair, Ian,' said Frank, motioning to an armchair directly in front of them.
Silently, Ian did as he was told. Carol watched her husband sit down, his eyes flickering between the floor and the united couple in front of him. Abruptly, he saw her panties on the desk, and Carol distinctly saw his cock twitch in his trousers as he realized the full situation.
The faintest of moans escaped her lips as she felt Frank's cock pulse strongly in her cunt, and her urge to rise and fall on his prick was almost intolerable, yet his hands held her waist firmly, resisting her attempts to move the monster between her lips.
Then suddenly, he moved in her, pulling her effortlessly upwards before letting her fall back onto his slick tool. Carol tasted blood as she bit her lip. Pain and ecstasy mingled for her as he drove his cock deeper into her than she had ever had one before. Again and again, she felt herself rise and fall, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees as his giant cock filled her soaking passage.
She opened her eyes as she heard Ian grunt and saw him shift uncomfortably in his chair, his trousers tenting at the front.
'See how your husband loves to see his beautiful wife get fucked by a proper cock,' exclaimed Frank with a touch of amusement in his voice. Sure enough, as Carol watched, she saw a stain spread on the front of his trousers, and realized that her husband had just ejaculated. A small tinge of compassion for her husband was swept away as Frank hauled her down once more onto his cock.
On and on, he pounded into her, seemingly oblivious to the sensations she knew her tight cunt must be producing for him, and still, she heard his breathing steady and normal until all sound for her was drowned out in the scream of ecstasy she uttered as wave after wave of climax swept over her. Frank held her tightly as she shuddered and trembled on his lap, feeling her juice spurt out from her plugged cunt to dampen his thighs.
Without effort, he lifted her off him, his prick exiting her with a lewd sucking sound that carried clearly to Ian.
'Take your clothes off, Ian, and your delectable wife will clean you,' Frank ordered, and watched as Ian stood and discarded his garments until he stood naked in front of his kneeling wife, droplets of come matting his pubic hair to his groin.
'When you have finished with Ian, join me on the terrace outside, Carol. Ian, you may go to your room.' With that, Frank tucked his wilting prick into his trousers and left through the French windows.
Ten minutes later, Carol joined him as he leaned over the balcony. 'Thank you, Frank,' she said simply. He turned and smiled at her, then looked out over the beach and the people who passed before them.
Ian watched them from his window as they stood close to each other, talking. His emotions lay in tatters, realizing just how much it had turned him on to see his wife ride that big prick. Incredible.
As he watched, he saw Frank's hand slide down Carol's shapely back and rest for a moment on her covered behind, but it stayed still only for a moment or two before pushing the fabric up over her waist to expose her beautiful, firm buttocks. Ian realized that anyone glancing from the beach towards them must be able to see his wife's bare pussy, and the thought swelled his rapidly hardening cock still further.
He was fully hard when, after dipping his forefinger into Carol's wet cunt, Frank slid it forcefully into her anus, causing her to cry out at the pain and arousal of its entry. Slowly and casually, his finger wormed in and out of her as she struggled to control her breathing.
Supporting herself on the balustrade, Carol felt her knees weaken as her breath began to come in little pants. The sensations he was inducing in her were breathtaking, and she kept biting her lip to suppress her moans, acutely aware that any loud noise would undoubtedly draw attention to them from the passing people not thirty yards away on the beach.
Very soon, Carol shuddered into another orgasm, not so intense as before but nonetheless very pleasurable. Once she had recovered, she straightened up and announced that she needed the lavatory.
Frank smiled at her, his finger still hooked in her arse. 'By all means, Carol,' he said with a broad smile. As she turned to go, his finger bent a little in her arse, and she stopped abruptly. 'Here,' he said.
Carol turned slowly and looked into the man's eyes. She could not believe that he had said that, and there was no way that she was going to pee there on the balcony for anyone to see, but his eyes held hers steadily, and she felt her resolve ebb away as she realized that he was perfectly serious.
Some minutes later, Ian sprayed his watery spunk onto the window as he saw his wife release her stream where she stood. Once more, the pure eroticism of the situation had proved too much, and control had deserted him.
Downstairs, Carol closed her eyes as she felt her hot liquid fall from her legs to splash around her ankles. Despite herself, she felt so highly charged that she wondered if she was going to pass out. Her nipples ached to be released from the confines of her dress, and her clitoris seemed almost to be vibrating of its own accord, so sensitive was it.
Pulling her around in front of him, Frank turned his back on the beach and opened his zip. Despite the fact that his body obscured her as he pushed her to her knees, Carol had never felt so lewd in all her life. Here she was about to go down on a practical stranger in broad daylight, within calling distance of perhaps ten people.
Not even a whore would take a risk like this, she thought to herself as she engulfed his fat cock in her willing mouth. She knew, though, that her pussy was practically on fire with this new feeling, and despite herself, she was unbelievably aroused.
Reaching up, she began to pump his cock with her small hand as she worked her tongue frenziedly around his shaft.
As if reading her mind, Frank suddenly spoke, 'Suck it, you tart. Take my cock all the way in like a #100 whore.' Carol renewed her frenzied attack on the head of his cock as the words tumbled over her. Recognizing the lack of malice in the abuse did nothing to alleviate the added thrill it gave to the situation.
'That's it, slut, suck my cock,' he continued, 'taste it, you fucking whore,' again and again he used the words, and each time seemed to have more effect than the last, until Carol's cunt juice was flooding down her thighs as her hand rubbed hard at her clitoris.
Just as she came, she felt him shudder. 'Do not swallow,' he said clearly before firing an incredible amount of hot cum into her aching mouth.
Despite his order, she had to swallow a little while more that squeezed around the edge of his prick and rolled down her cheeks. Pulling his cock out of her, he dragged her limp body to her feet and kissed her lips before moving behind her so that once more she was on show to anyone who cared to look in their direction.
She felt his breath hot on her neck as he breathed into her ear. 'Now you may,' he whispered. In a trance, Carol let his warm spunk slide down her throat, only dimly aware that she had never swallowed Ian's cum before in their entire time together.
Taking her hand, he led her back into the main room of the house where he fixed them both a long, cooling drink. Once seated, he watched Carol as she struggled to come to terms with the events of the last few hours and was pleased when he saw her eyes grow calm. Telling her to finish her drink, he then ordered her to the bedroom that they were to share for the next two nights.
Once upstairs, Carol stripped off and went through to the bathroom to shower, while Frank sat on the bed and opened up the bag that she had bought. In it were several different items that he had told her to buy at an extremely seedy shop in one of the more run-down areas of the city where they lived.
Presently, Carol came through, wrapped in a towel. Immediately, she saw the items spread out on the bed, and she blushed, causing Frank to smile at her obvious embarrassment.
'Come here, Carol,' he said, holding out his hand to her. She approached the bed, and as she reached him, he stood up and gently catching her around the waist, bent her over the bed.Carol watched, fascinated, as the big man reached onto the bed and took a tube of KY jelly.
Guessing what was coming next, she relaxed her body, only to tense briefly as she felt the coldness of the jelly liberally smeared onto her tight, puckered anus. "Relax," she heard him say softly, and a moment later, she felt the blunt tip of the dildo she had seen him take from the bed rest against her tight hole.
Taking a deep breath, she concentrated hard on relaxing her sphincter as she felt him gently yet firmly work the fat rubber cock into her anus. At one point, its sheer width caused her to cry out, but in the same moment, she felt the rest of it slide into her until only the T-bar was left visible. He stroked her bottom for a moment before helping her to straighten up.
Gingerly, she adjusted her position and found that apart from the feeling of fullness it gave her, she could move freely and without discomfort. Turning her around, he pushed her gently onto the bed and carefully slipped a pair of heavy chrome balls into her cunt. Finally, he held out a pair of thin rubber panties that she had not seen before and told her to put them on.
"Finish getting dressed and then go downstairs and wait for us," he said in a hushed voice that did not quite hide his excitement. With that, he left the room.
When she had readied herself, she went down the long flight of stairs, and as no one was about, she made herself a gin and tonic, settling on the settee to await developments.
As she sat, she was very aware of the items he had placed in her and the heat she was experiencing from the tight rubber pants she wore. Every time she moved, little pleasurable tremors flicked through her body.
Twenty minutes later, the two men walked into the room. Ian was dressed in unbelievably tight jeans that did nothing to hide the bulge of his cock and a dark, mustard-colored shirt. Frank was dressed in an expensive cream-colored suit, under which he wore a shirt and tie.
"Shall we go?" he said amiably and turned to leave the room. Rising too quickly, Carol let out a small yelp of pleasure as the balls moved in her hot pussy, and she stumbled past Ian, ignoring his curious gaze.
Frank told her to get in the back of the car with him and handed the keys to Ian, telling him to drive and warning him not to drink any alcohol that night.
The run into the local town took ten minutes, but after just a couple, Carol was squirming in the back seat as each time the car passed over a bump in the road, the butt plug dipped a little deeper into her.
Once parked, the couple followed Frank until he turned down a dark alley and stopped outside an innocuous door. Tapping gently on it in an obviously coded way, he stepped back, and a second later, the door swung open.
The three of them stood in the dimly lit foyer until a girl, dressed in a black leather basque and stockings, arrived and led them to a table close to a small stage. Frank ordered a bottle of wine for them, and shortly afterward, it was delivered to the table by the same girl who had let them in. She explained that she was there to see to their every need for the evening. Frank smiled knowingly.
Suddenly, Carol jumped in her seat and groaned out loud. Ian, along with everyone else in the small room, stared inquisitively at her as she sat rigid, her hands pressed firmly on the tabletop, staring desperately down to her legs. After a moment, she seemed to relax and, with a gasp, she slumped back into her chair, looking hard at Frank, who simply smiled and took his hand out of his pocket.
She could hear the other guests talking and laughing, and somehow knew that she was the center of every conversation in the room. She saw Ian look at her speculatively as she stood up and asked the girl where the lavatory was. Once directed, she moved off across the dimly lit room.
Frank caught the waitress by the arm, whispered in her ear, and watched as she followed Carol across the room.
When she reached the ladies' room, Carol found a cubicle and sat down. Raising her skirt, she pulled the front of the black, rubber panties down and looked at the small cord that extended out of her pussy. Just as she did, the door of the cubicle swung open, and Carol saw the waitress swiftly enter, closing the door behind her.
"Excuse me," Carol said angrily, "I am using this lavatory at the moment. Would you kindly get out?"
"I will when you have finished," smiled the girl, "I am here to make sure that you do not remove anything that you shouldn't."
Carol knew there was no point in protesting and sighed deeply. "Be my guest," she snapped, and with that, pulled the panties down and proceeded to sit down on the lavatory. Angrily, she stared at the young woman who stood close to her, and her anger increased as she saw the girl simply smile back.
With difficulty, Carol managed to pee before she stood up, re-arranged her underwear, and pushed past the waitress with a curt, "Happy?"
She was halfway back across the room when the love balls buried in her pussy burst, once more, into life. Carol's knees buckled, and she would have fallen, but for the fact that she managed to steady herself on the shoulders of a man sitting close to her. Unable to speak, she was aware of the curious look on the man's face as she leaned against him, panting for breath.
As suddenly as it had started, the intense vibration stopped, and Carol managed to rise. Muttering "sorry" to the man, who now wore an amused expression, she walked carefully to her table. As she sat, she looked hard at Frank, who merely grinned and slid his hand into his pocket. This time, she felt the plug in her arse pulse, and once more, she was reduced instantly to a breathless, moaning mess.
For the next half hour, they sat, barely speaking, drinking wine and sampling the little delicacies that the waitress brought to their table. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and a soft light spread over the stage, drawing their attention to it.
A moment later, two women appeared on the stage, and to applause from the audience, began to strip and fondle each other. The audience watched as the two girls went through a standard lesbian scene, ending with them sixty-nining each other to orgasm.
Carol noticed Ian squirming in his seat as the girls performed and could clearly see his tightly constrained cock bulge against the material of his jeans.
After a small pause, the girls left the stage to applause, to be replaced by two men who proceeded to copy the act of the two girls. Carol had never seen two men together like this, and although it was not entirely to her taste, she found the scene strangely erotic.
Several more acts followed, each more exciting to her than the previous, almost as if the whole show had been aimed at bringing her to a pitch of excitement. Several times, Frank had activated the items in her, which she now realized were radio-controlled, and she knew that her pants were awash with her own secretions.
On stage, a beautiful girl was sucking the enormous prick of a stunning black man while she plunged a dildo in and out of her slick pussy. Carol could not believe that the girl could possibly be acting as she slid sideways onto the floor of the stage and fucked herself mercilessly to orgasm, groaning and screaming in her delight while the black man stood watching her, a grin on his lips.
As the girl lay there whimpering, Frank leaned forward to Carol. "Finish him," he said simply.
Dazed and aroused at her own sexual frustration, Carol moved like an automaton to the front of the stage. The black man advanced and held his cock proudly out in front of him. Without a word, Carol took his massive hardness in her mouth and began to suck.
The audience watched in absolute silence as this beautiful woman, whom they did not know, fellated the actor for their pleasure... It did not last long, and with a broad grin, the man jetted his spunk into the girl's mouth, pulling his cock out halfway through to shoot a wad of hot come into her face. The audience went wild as the lights dimmed, and Carol slumped back into her chair.
Frank leaned forward, and Carol felt him slip the straps of her dress over her shoulders to reveal her creamy tits to the entire gathering. Ian had never seen his wife's nipples so hard before. Then, to the delight of the audience, Carol brought her fingers to her face, wiped the man's come off her cheek, and massaged it into her breasts.
"Ian," said Frank evenly, "go and get your wife some tissues from the men's room." With a desperate look at his wife, Ian did as he was told and limped away across the floor.
Turning her chair to face him, Frank addressed the blonde. "We can leave now, Carol," he said earnestly, "or we can stay. Needless to say, if we do stay, you are going to be the center of attention for the rest of the evening."
Carol stood, and for a moment, Frank thought that he had misjudged her and that she was going to leave. She stood looking at Frank for a long moment, and then, with an elegant wiggle, she let her dress drop to the floor. There was a moment's silence before the room erupted in applause at the sight of this gorgeous woman standing amongst them, clad only in a pair of rubber panties and high heels.
Reaching up, Frank firmly grasped her stiff nipples and pulled her down to kiss her, smiling as he did so. When she stood upright once more, she realized that she was more aroused than she had ever been in her life before. Ian watched as his wife stepped up onto the stage and, in full view of everyone, slowly drew the rubber pants down her long legs.
Silence reigned as she drew the two chrome balls from her pussy and lasciviously licked them clean before tossing them to Frank, who caught and pocketed them in one deft movement. Then, she stepped down from the raised platform.
Imperiously, she looked around the room until her eyes found Ian.Pointing at him, she beckoned him towards her. Hesitantly, he approached the magnificent form of his wife, sweat glazing his forehead. Meekly, he stood there as she undid his jeans and, in full view of the assembly, wrapped her fist around his straining prick and led him to the stage.
Pushing him onto his back, she straddled his stiff prick and then sank down unerringly onto it so that in one fluid motion, it was engulfed by her sopping pussy. Slowly and easily, she began to ride her husband for the entertainment of the audience, who had a perfect view of his knob sliding in and out of her hole.
An elegant woman in her early forties stood up and walked to the front of the stage, and leaning forward, gently licked Carol's tits for a moment or two before going on her way to the ladies' room. Ian felt his balls contract painfully, and he shot his remaining spunk up into his wife's hot hole.
After a moment, Carol stood, watery cum dripping from her pussy, and reaching between her legs, caught some in her palm and licked it off. Then, she twisted at the waist and looked lovingly at her husband. 'Sorry,' she mouthed before turning to the audience once more.
The look of challenge was clear for all to see.
From the back of the room, a middle-aged man stood up and strode forward. Without a word, he grasped Carol and lifted her easily off the stage. Silently, he turned her and pushed her down so that her arse was raised high and her tits were squashed onto the carpeted floor of the stage. Without preamble, he whipped his hard cock out of his trousers and slammed it into Carol's dripping cunt.
Savagely, he rammed in and out of her, making her moan and groan with the sheer power of his thrusts. Frank watched as this demure, beautiful suburban wife shoved her hips back to meet the hard thrusts of the complete stranger, her husband lying on the stage, jeans around his ankles, grimacing as his tortured penis began to swell again.
On and on, the man fucked her as she called out obscenely, urging him to shaft her deeper and harder until, with a loud shout, he straightened and pumped his seed deep into her.
As Frank watched, another man came forward and, turning her on her back, took over where the first man had left off. As he pistoned into her, Frank turned on the butt plug, and Carol let out a scream of pure pleasure as her body was wracked by her convulsing climax.
Man after man took her that evening, ramming her cum-filled twat, tweaking her nipples, mauling her tits, and, as each one fell away, she called out for more. In her frenzied state, she willingly tongued out the cunt of more than one woman who climbed onto the stage and lowered themselves onto her face.
Hot cum ran down her thighs, between the cheeks of her arse, and puddled under her buttocks. Her cunt glistened under a coating of sticky spunk as she screamed out in total wanton abandonment. And all the while, her husband and Frank watched.
Eventually, it had to end, and when the last man had withdrawn from her, she lay still on her back, gasping.
Slowly, she raised herself and walked over to Frank. Once more, she lowered her face to his and kissed him hard. 'Thank you,' she whispered into his ear.
Frank stood and, signaling to Ian to follow, he walked her out of the club to the rapturous applause of the assembled patrons. Naked, she followed him down the alley, cum running down her legs, to the car. As she climbed into the back seat of the car, Frank smiled at the serene smile that lit her face.
When they reached Frank's house, he helped her out of the car, and together they walked onto the terrace with Ian following. Without a word, Ian sank to his knees and gently parted his wife's thighs.
Gently and carefully, he licked and cleaned her enflamed, distended red pussy. When he had finished, he stood up and left them, returning to his room without a word.
Frank reached between her legs and carefully pulled the butt plug from her arse. She looked at him, and lust returned to her eyes. 'I know,' he said quietly and undid the zipper of his trousers to free his cock.
She took it in her hand and gently massaged it to stiffness before leaning down and wetting it with her mouth. Then, she bent over the balcony and spread her arse cheeks very deliberately. Frank moved behind her and slid his hot cock into her expanded anus.
Despite the stretching it had received all evening, she groaned aloud as she felt his length force into her. Slowly and carefully, he slid it in and out of her as she trembled under him. For what seemed like hours, they maintained the position, watching the setting sun go down as he maintained a slow rhythm that induced one small climax after another in her. Eventually, she heard him moan softly, and she smiled as she felt him pump his cum into her.
Carol awoke the next morning and, rolling over, looked at the man who had so completely taken control of her. Gently, she pushed the sheet aside to reveal his strong legs, and she lay looking at his fat, limp cock capping his heavy balls. She reached between her own legs and gently massaged her aching cunt for a few minutes before getting off the bed and going into the bathroom, where she stood under the shower for half an hour.
When she returned, Frank was sitting up on the bed drinking a cup of tea. 'Are you alright?' he asked gently.
'How did you know?' she replied, kneeling on the bed at his feet.
'I didn't,' he grinned, 'for sure that is. I just had a hunch that you wanted to experience something more than you have had before. It appears that I was right.'
'What I cannot believe is how excited Ian is about all this,' she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. 'I mean, watching his wife turn into the biggest slut of all time.'
Frank smiled and reached forward to her. He pulled her across his thighs, and, without a word, she began to gently grind her pussy over his prick. Soon, it began to swell, and when he was hard, Carol reached between them and guided it into her wet pussy, wincing as it stretched her still sore cunt. Frank pulled her down so that her tits squashed against her chest, and she slowly and carefully slid up and down his rigid tool.
'Ian,' Frank called. A moment later, the door opened, and in he walked. 'Lick your wife's beautiful arsehole,' he ordered, and Ian immediately dropped onto the bed and began to probe her anus with his tongue, initiating moans of lust from his wife.
Frank reached down and spread the cheeks of her arse. 'Put your cock in,' he said quietly to Ian.
Without a word, Ian undid his jeans and took out his prick. Rubbing saliva over its knob, he placed it against her crinkled hole and, as Carol slid back down Frank's tool, he pushed. Carol bit Frank's shoulder hard as she felt the second prick enter her body. The intense feeling of being filled overwhelmed her, and tears slid down her cheek as she slowly drew forwards so that both cocks only just remained inside her.
She held Frank's gaze for a long moment, smiled, and pushed back as hard as she could. Her scream of pain and delight filled the room as she felt the two men slam back into her. The feeling was indescribable to her, and she repeated the act.
'C'mon, boys, fuck me like the slut I am,' she called, 'fuck my cunt, fuck my ass, fuck me, you hot bastards.' Again and again, she rammed herself back before pulling herself forward and screaming at them to fuck her. A torrent of words fell from her mouth as she goaded them to fill her fuller with their meat. Frank took her left nipple in his mouth and held it secure in his teeth as she bucked furiously on the two cocks.
Screaming, moaning, and thrashing wildly, she entered her biggest ever orgasm as Ian splashed the inside of her arse with his cum, and she was only dimly aware of the hot gush of Frank's spunk in her cunt.
With a loud moan, she slumped forward onto Frank's chest, twitching as Ian's cock was pulled from her. Frank held her tight and stroked her hair as she slowly came down from the pinnacle she had so recently climbed. With a flick of his head, he instructed Ian to leave the room. Ian did as he was told. Frank held her like this for an hour as she slept; all the while, his long cock remained snugly between her swollen lips.
Eventually, she stirred, and the first thing she saw was his contented smile. 'Had enough?' he asked. Smiling, she shook her head. Frank slapped her arse and rolled her off him, laughing and shaking his head.
Downstairs, they gathered in the kitchen for breakfast of coffee and croissants. 'After breakfast, Ian, you will return home,' said Frank in a tone that brooked no argument. 'Carol will be returned to you, unharmed, at 6:00 pm tomorrow evening.' Ian looked miserably to his wife, who smiled reassuringly at him before resuming her coffee. A few minutes later, Ian had left the table, and ten minutes after that, they heard the wheels of his car crunching on the gravel as he drove away.
After the two of them had finished breakfast, Frank led Carol back upstairs and made her lie on the bed. He went into the bathroom and returned a minute later with a small tub from which he took a white substance. Carefully, he applied the ointment to Carol's red labia, and then he sat back. For a moment, she lay there, and then she started to writhe on the bed as she felt her cunt start to burn almost unbearably. For a full minute, she moaned and sobbed as pain flooded through her, but then she felt her pussy cool, and a few moments later, she felt entirely renewed, all pain and soreness having left her.
Carefully, Frank wiped the rest of the ointment from her lips and then, bending his head, he lapped gently at her pussy, worming his tongue in and out of her rapidly moistening hole. Shifting round on the bed, he brought his cock up to Carol's mouth, and she did not need to be asked to wrap her lips around its fullness.Frank nibbled Carol's clit carefully, tugging and teasing it before dipping his tongue back into her wet slot. As he did this, he used his chin to bring pressure onto her inflamed nub, and she bucked under him as he worked her into a passionate frenzy. Needing air, Carol moved her lips off his rampant tool and breathed deeply. She caught the scent of his cock, a mixture of her cream and his, and she moaned aloud in wanton abandonment, bringing her tongue up between the cheeks of his bottom until she found his tight anus.
Boldly, she made her tongue rigid and poked it at his hole. She felt him shiver and attack her pussy with renewed vigor. Enjoying the reward of her assault, she grabbed his hips and drew her mouth firmly against his anus. As he felt her contact on this sensitive area, Frank went wild, eating her pussy harder and harder, twisting and pulling at her hard clit, which in turn increased her arousal, so that in a few moments, the two of them were thrashing around on the bed, glued to each other as they brought each other higher and higher.
Releasing his hips, Carol squashed her breasts around his impressive knob and squeezed hard, using her tits to wank him as he buried his tongue deep into her fiery twat. All the while, she licked at his anus until, with a shudder, she felt him shoot hot cum all over her belly. Her smile of victory was short-lived as she entered the sublime arena of her own climax, and the two of them panted and moaned in unison as wave upon wave of pleasure engulfed them.
Later, when they had calmed, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, kissing tenderly and stroking each other gently, warmed by the sun that streamed through the open bedroom window, listening to the birds wheel and dive outside.
Eventually, Frank got up, showered, and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Returning to the bedroom, he looked admiringly at the sexy woman lying on his bed. 'Get up,' he ordered her, 'and get dressed.'
Then he turned to the wardrobe and selected a short cotton frock and tossed it to her as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. 'You won't need underwear,' he grinned.
'You are joking,' she said as she slipped the dress over her shoulders, 'look how short this thing is.'
The dress was indeed short and barely covered half her thighs. Additionally, due to the loose fit, at certain times and at certain angles, it was easy to see her full tits through the armholes. Lastly, although Carol did not realize this, when she stood in the sunlight, Frank was able to see right through the thin fabric. 'Perfect,' he said.
Taking her by the arm, he led her down the path onto the beach, and they strolled along the sand past the scattering of holiday makers. Seeing a young couple lying, sunbathing, Frank purposefully walked close by them so that when the reclining man opened his eyes as they their shadows fell over him, he was treated to a perfect view of Carol's bare arse as it swayed under her dress.
His girlfriend, also observing this, muttered, 'Tart,' and slapped her boyfriend hard. Carol's cheeks reddened at the term, but inwardly she found herself excited at the thought of the stranger seeing her nakedness. When they were thirty yards behind them, Frank very deliberately lifted the hem of her frock so that the young man received a final, very welcome view of Carol's perfect behind.
Carol turned crimson, but her pace did not falter, and she made no effort to push the skirt back down. Presently, they found a secluded place amongst the rocks inhabited by only an old man who sat patiently attending his fishing rod.
Carefully, Frank positioned Carol so that the old man could see her out of the corner of his eye, although the fisherman appeared not to realize they were there. For some time, they sat quietly, Frank's arm around her shoulders.
'Raise your skirt and masturbate,' he said in his simple authoritative manner. Carol knew at this moment that she was utterly powerless to resist the whims of this strange man who sat beside her.
He watched quietly as she raised the front of her frock and, spreading her legs, slid her right hand down over her pubis. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers lightly over her lips, acutely aware of the old man not ten yards from where she sat. Gradually, familiar feelings began to course through her as she dipped her fingers gently into her saturated cunt.
Bringing her left hand down, she rubbed at her clitoris as she curled the fingers of her right into her pussy to rub at the wall behind her pubic bone. Occasionally, the feeling was so intense that she shivered and groaned. 'Open your eyes, Carol,' she heard him whisper.
Knowing what she would see, she slowly did as she was told and saw the old man watching her intently, all thoughts of his previous occupation gone; he made no pretense about watching this beautiful girl frig herself in front of him. Carol held his gaze as her fingers roamed over and in her pussy, spreading her copious juice all over her shining, bare cunt.
She watched as he quietly slid his hand down the front of his old jeans and rubbed his cock through the hard material. Pure lust swept over her as she thrust three fingers deep into her pussy and then slowly withdrew them before bringing them to her mouth. Frank seized her wrist and changed her direction, and it was his mouth that licked the glistening juice from her.
The old man shifted around to watch more easily as Carol returned her fingers to her pussy and humped them into herself in short, sharp thrusts. Emboldened by the relative seclusion and the spectacle he was witnessing, he released his cock from his trousers and began to rub it expertly. This pushed Carol to another plane as she attacked her own pussy feverishly.
At a sign from Frank, the old man stood up and hobbled awkwardly over to stand in front of Carol. Frank watched as the old man devoured the sight before him, furiously rubbing his old member until, with a gurgling groan, he splattered the front of Carol's dress with a surprising amount of come. Carol stepped over the edge into that familiar world of her own orgasm, her eyes tight shut as she ground down on her fingers.
When she opened her eyes again, a minute later, the old man had returned to where he had been sitting. As Carol and Frank rose to leave, he smiled gratefully at them and waved farewell. Carol searched her memory to find the last time that she had felt as sexually fulfilled as this man beside her had accomplished. The answer, when it came back, was never.
On they strolled until they came to a cafe/bar on the edge of the beach. Entering, it took some moments for their eyes to adjust to the gloom of the small place. Taking a table, they enjoyed the coolness afforded them by the shade and sipped at the long cool drinks that Frank had ordered.
Their attention centered on a couple sitting at another table. The man was short, balding, and running to fat; the woman, tall with a pinched face and unkempt hair dragged into a bun. The woman was berating the glum-looking man for having forgotten to pack her sunglasses. On and on she went, all the while the man sat meekly accepting the verbal assault.
Finally, the woman rose and stalked out, stopping at the door and telling him not to forget to pay the bill. Carol and Frank watched as he rose slowly and walked over to the counter. They heard him ask where the toilet was as he handed over the money to the cashier.
Instantly, Frank was on his feet and, dragging Carol behind him, he crossed the floor and entered the door marked 'Gentlemen'. Quickly, he closed the door and pushed Carol into one of the two cubicles in the small room.
A moment or two later, the small man entered the room and stepped up to the urinal to relieve himself. When he had finished, he turned to the sink, nodding a greeting at Frank as men do in public lavatories. Having washed his hands, the man dried them and turned to leave. As he did so, Frank grasped his arm firmly and literally shoved him into the cubicle.
The man stared in utter disbelief at Carol, who, sensing what was to take place, had taken off her skimpy dress and now stood naked, wearing only a welcoming smile. Not giving the man a chance to say anything, she yanked at his shorts and allowed his prick to jump free.
Carol sank to her knees and took the man's prick in her hot mouth, surprised at the respectable size of the small man's organ. Deftly, she sucked on his length, delighted to feel it stiffen instantly under the ministrations of her wicked tongue. Within a minute, the man had swelled to full stiffness.
Not allowing him a moment to think, she stood up and steered him to the toilet seat, pushing him in the chest so that he fell back, his cock rising out of a tangle of pubic hair. Grabbing his cock, she rubbed the head against her hot twat and, without a pause, slid down on his rigid length.
As his tool sank straight into her wet cunt, the man couldn't hold back and uttered his first and last words. 'Fucking hell.'
He lasted less than a minute as Carol furiously rode up and down on his cock, and the moment she felt his come flood into her, she pulled herself upright, grabbed her dress, and, slipping it back on, left the room. A moment later, she returned to the shell-shocked man, who hadn't moved, and, leaning down, kissed him lightly on the cheek. Grinning, she turned and rejoined Frank in the main area of the cafe.
As they left, they bumped into the haughty wife, who asked them if they had seen her husband in the cafe. Carol screamed with laughter and ran off down the path, shaking with mirth. Frank sauntered after her, smiling broadly at the confused woman.
When finally Frank caught up with her, she hung around his neck, crying with laughter.'That was the wildest thing I think I have ever done,' she sobbed through her tears. He smiled and stroked her hair tenderly as they turned to walk back towards the house. Carol burst into hysterical laughter as they once more passed the couple from the bar. She glared, and he smiled. Over their laughter, they both clearly heard the man tell the woman to, '... bloody well fuck off back to your mother's then.'
Once they were back in the seclusion of the house, Carol went to the bathroom and quickly strip-washed to remove the dried semen of the small man from her thighs. Returning to the living area downstairs, she saw that Frank was talking to someone. As she entered the room, the other person turned, and Carol saw that she was a cute-looking woman with short, red hair, perhaps thirty years old. At her feet sat a large black case.
'Carol, this is Jen,' Frank introduced them to each other. 'Jen is here to lend us a hand, so to speak.' As he spoke, he beckoned them to follow him. Jen smiled and picked up the case.
Frank opened a door that led into a large room that Carol had not been in before. It had in the center a large table and, to one side, there was an equally large settee. It appeared that this was a study of some kind, and Carol saw that it had large picture windows looking out over the sea. Frank strode over to the windows and, at the flick of a switch, curtains glided across the glass so that, almost at once, the room was plunged into darkness.
Next, he turned on a set of lights that bathed the room in a luxurious glow. Finally, he retrieved a large mahogany, brass-bound box, gesturing to Carol to join him. She walked across the soft carpet to his side.
'You are about to indulge in the ultimate form of exhibitionism, Carol,' Frank said quietly. 'You are about to be a star.' He paused for effect and nodded towards Jen.
Carol turned slowly, and her eyes grew steadily wider as she saw what Jen was doing. At that moment, she was affixing a video camera to a tripod, and Carol saw that she had already rigged two portable lights aimed at the table. She turned back to Frank and stared in disbelief at his tranquil face.
'Two copies,' he said quietly, 'one for my collection and the other for you.' Then, strangely, he held out his hand and, grasping hers, shook it. She smiled at him then. A smile of total wanton sexual ecstasy.
'Open the box and start when you are ready,' he whispered in her ear before turning and seating himself on the settee in front of the table.
'One moment,' she said and ran out of the room.
One moment was twenty minutes, but when she returned, the sight that befell Frank's eyes was worth the wait.
Carol stood in a black cocktail dress, black stockings, and black high heels. Her blonde hair was curled on top of her head, and she had applied the most subtle of makeup that enhanced every aspect of her beauty. Even her walk had altered to a graceful slide so that, as she crossed the room, she did not appear to move a muscle. Frank watched, transfixed.
When she reached the table, she turned, leaned her buttocks against the edge, and swung herself up onto the surface. Rising to her feet, she began to sway to some subtle rhythm, gyrating her hips and pushing out her breasts as her hands slid over her thighs and across her smooth belly.
On she went, dancing like someone in a trance, her fingers raising the hem of her dress every so often to reveal the tops of the sheer stockings she was wearing. All the while, Jen recorded the action on videotape. Carol's motions became more daring, and she pushed her dress up until it remained rucked around her waist to reveal a pair of black cotton, high-cut panties.
Delicately, she traced the prominent outline of her full pussy lips through the fine fabric, occasionally pushing it up into her sticky slit so that soon the material showed her excitement through the tell-tale damp patch. On and on she went, pushing the flimsy dress higher until, with a fluid movement, she drew it over her head and threw it to the floor to reveal her naked breasts.
The woman on the table looked quite staggering as she swayed to her own music. Jen found that she had a hand down the front of her jeans as she taped the action in front of her.
Carol bent down and opened the box, reached in, and withdrew a gold-tipped vibrator. The thing buzzed into life, and she rolled the tip over her taut nipples, moaning softly to herself as delicious tremors ran through her. With a savage wrench, she ripped her panties off and sank to her knees, legs spread wide, showing her glorious pussy to the camera.
She looked at Frank and smiled as she saw that he had his penis in his hand and was slowly pulling on it. She sighed as she ran the vibrator deep into her pussy and she stayed like this for several minutes, fucking herself slowly with the buzzing dildo. Then, without warning, she pulled it out and licked it clean, as if it was a man's prick, sliding it in and out of her mouth before tossing it over her shoulder. Jen let her jeans fall to the floor as she massaged her own pussy at the spectacle in front of her.
Carol, meanwhile, dipped into the box beside her and pulled out an enormous pink dildo. Sucking it, she lay on her back before opening her legs as wide as she could. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the phallus against the sodden lips of her cunt and gasped as the big head slid past her outer portal. Ever so slowly, she fed the huge cock into her gaping cunt until she only had enough of it left to keep a grip on. Pinching her nipples with her free hand, she began to pull the prick out of her, acutely aware of the filthy sucking sound it made as it left her sticky hole.
In and out of her twat, she plunged the cock, and each time her cunt slurped disgustingly. The noise of it was enough to allow Jen to tremble into a little orgasm of her own as she played with her tiny clit, her eyes never leaving Carol's gaping puss.
Carol slid off the table and went to kneel in front of Frank, who leaned back in his chair, his hand sliding off his hard, erect tool. With a grin, Carol bobbed forward and licked the pre-cum off its tip, delighting in the way Frank twitched as she made contact.
Again, she leaned forward and this time slid her lips all the way down his shaft, stopping only when she reached his balls. Laying the dildo she still held to one side, she cupped his sack and fondled his heavy nuts as she gave him the best blow job he could ever remember receiving.
Standing once more, she turned her back to Frank and straddled his thighs, reaching between her legs to grasp his tool. Jen took the camera off the tripod and came and knelt a few feet away, focusing close up on Frank's knob as it rose to meet Carol's anus.
Slowly Carol worked the large head into her rectum and then, when she was ready, she simply let go, sitting down hard. Her scream mingled with the explosive groan Frank emitted as his cock rammed straight into her arsehole. He jack-knifed upwards and grasped her tits reflexively as she raised herself once more before plunging down onto his straining member.
Time and again, she slammed his meat into her tight hole, reveling in the strong, manly grunt she heard from Frank each time she impaled herself. Leaning forward, she retrieved the dildo from the floor and raised herself up once more. Holding the rigid phallus with both hands, she brought it to rest inside the lips of her streaming pussy. Jen, sensing something extraordinary was about to happen, widened the shot to take in Carol's face, and, a moment later, she captured the most incredible scene she had ever taken as Carol once more let go.
This time the dildo entered her cunt as Frank's cock surged up her arsehole. The combination of the two intrusions sparked a climax Carol did not know was in her. She screamed aloud and desperately started to rise the two cocks as fast as she could as orgasm after orgasm hit her like sledgehammers. She was oblivious to Frank pumping stream after stream of hot spunk deep into her as she gave in to the cataclysmic pinnacle she had reached.
On and on she pumped, riding his cock with total abandonment, oblivious to the groans of pain that emanated from Frank, oblivious too to the cries of Jen as she spurted her own love juice down her thighs.
Suddenly, she went absolutely rigid and fell forward onto the carpet. Frank could only lie there gasping for breath as she lay in a kneeling position on the floor, cum dripping from the two-inch circle that was her normally tight ring, a large pink dildo protruding from her shaven cunt. Jen dropped the camera at this point, so Carol would always regret not having actually seen her lean forward and stick her tongue deep into the contracting hole and lap at Frank's spunk.
As Jen straightened up, Carol rolled onto her side and smiled adoringly up at Frank, who could only look in awe at this extraordinary woman who lay at his feet. He slid forward until he was kneeling beside her and kissed her gently on the forehead. Carol closed her eyes and slept.
She awoke to find herself curled up in the master bedroom of the house. Frank was not beside her when she looked, but there on the pillow was a note and a video tape. Sitting upright, she took the note and read it.
Dear Carol,
There is not a lot that I wish to say to you other than you are the most breathtaking woman I have ever met.
Saying goodbye to you is not something I wish to do, so please forgive me for not being around. I have ordered a taxi to collect you at 5:00 pm (Don't worry, it has been paid for).
In a way, I should be cross with you. I have, as you must have suspected, done this sort of thing before, but I will not do it again with any other woman. No woman could match you.Carol smiled to herself and climbed off the bed. She showered and dressed before packing her case, not forgetting the video from the bed. She heard the taxi sound its horn and went down the stairs.
She was just about to close the front door when she paused. Telling the driver to take her case, she turned back into the hall and walked over to a small table. Taking out a small notebook and pen, she carefully noted his telephone number.
'I think I might be needing this sometime,' she thought to herself. 'Soon.' | 4 |
68,768 | Greek Lessons | 'Yum!', I thought to myself as Erika leaned across the desk to pick up the thick textbook she used to teach this course.
'Advanced Computer Architecture' I didn't find too difficult, and I really didn't need to join this tutorial class Erika had started after the real class, but since I had taken the 'Intro to Computer Architecture' from her last semester and had joined the tutorial group for that, I decided to join this one too.
Erika, who demanded that all her students call her by her first name instead of by her title, was the best professor I'd had yet at my two and a half years at the university. She was also definitely the most gorgeous, beautiful, and sexy. She reminded me of one of those Greek goddesses from those terrible 1960s Hercules movies. Five foot six with long wavy chestnut brown hair, dark eyes that really looked into you when she talked to you, and a tight, well-built figure that made her look much younger than the 38 years I knew she was. Then there was her accent. She spoke English perfectly but had a thick Greek accent that lent a real sexy mystique to her voice. I didn't find it as sexy as an Australian accent, but it certainly came a close second.
38 wasn't that old. Michelle's mother had just turned 38. And yes, for those of you who might have noticed, I do have a bit of a thing for my best friend's mom. She looks fabulous, a more mature version of her beautiful daughter, and I'd had more than a few wet dreams about her, usually ones that had both her and Michelle as feature performers, but I was adult enough to know that they were nothing but post-adolescent fantasies.
Erika looked up from the desk and smiled at me as she noticed that I was staring fixedly at her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing.
'Do you like my bottom?' she asked me frankly. 'I spend a half hour every morning on aerobics to keep it this way.'
The rest of the group of students that had joined this regular after-class meeting had already left, and I was just packing up myself when I'd gotten that chance to glimpse those nice half-moons jiggling in her pants.
I stared at her a bit shocked, but I should have been used to her frankness by now. When Erika had a question to ask you, she came right out and asked it.
'My last husband said it was my best feature,' she said. Before I could answer, she slid her hands down her back and cupped the two cheeks in her hands.
'Hell, Erika!' I said, deciding to be just as frank. 'You don't have any bad features.'
She smiled at me, raising my temperature and blood pressure.
'Would you close the windows and blinds for me.'
She turned back to gathering her stuff off the desk.
Really, I would have just preferred sitting in my chair behind the desk for another minute; I didn't want her to see me standing up, but knew she'd just ask me if anything was wrong if I didn't comply, so I just stood up, a noticeable bulge in my pants that just wouldn't go down. I went to the side of the room and began closing and locking the windows and then lowering and shutting the blinds. When I finished and turned back, she was sitting on the corner of her desk and staring at me with a knowing grin.
'Simon, you are my favorite student,' she told me. 'Do you know why?'
I had a few answers to that question that I would have liked to say, but instead answered with, 'Because I've got the highest grade in the class.'
'True enough,' she said as she hopped off her desk, sending her breasts jumping under her sweater and my half-softening bulge back to full hardness. Walking to the door of the room, she closed it and locked it.
'But no, that is not it. It is because you listen to what I am saying and watch what I am doing and always can tell what I am going to do next.'
With that, she went back to the desk, stretched out sensually on top of it, and undid the top of her jeans.
I walked to her and watched as she wriggled out of them until they flopped to the floor.
'I bet I can guess what you're going to do next,' I told her as I moved closer and began to rub my hand against the frilly lace-like material of her panties.
'Yes, that is why you are my favorite student,' she said, reaching up to pull my face down to hers.
I joined enthusiastically into the kiss as one of my hands reached under her sweater to grab a hot, needle-tipped breast while my other hand rubbed her cunt through her panties until they were soaked with her drippings.
I still remember more than vividly at the beginning of this semester, she stopped me before leaving the class, holding me there until all the other students had gone. She had asked if I thought she was attractive, and I admitted that I thought she was beautiful. Then she had stunned me by asking if I wanted to be her lover. Before I could answer, she had told me, like today, to close the windows and blinds, and by the time I had gotten back, she had locked the door and was lying naked on her desk. After that, I hadn't really needed to answer her with words. My actions had been more than enough.
As I broke the kiss, I slid down her body until my face was hovering over her erotically aromatic groin. Taking the hand I had been rubbing her with, I licked the dampness off my fingers and then kissed the wet crotch of her panties, sucking more moisture into my mouth.
'Oh, yes!' she said, laughing joyfully. 'I love it when you kiss me down there. None of my husbands would do it. Only Uncle Louis had a taste for me.'
'They were all idiots,' I told her, reaching my hand to the elastic band holding up the underwear. 'No wonder you divorced the three of them. Your Uncle was the only smart one. You taste fabulous.'
As I slipped her panties down her legs, I remembered the first time I had buried my face between those sweet thighs of hers. She had been divorced only six months, but had been so horny that she had approached me after she thought I had been watching her more than just attentively during class. Truthfully, I had always stared at her like that since I had first walked into her class, but it took her over-stressed hormones 5 months to finally notice.
When I had first kissed the inside of her thighs, she had been thrilled. And when I began fucking her with my tongue, she had had to stop herself from screaming. Her last husband, she told me, was a real sex maniac, but he only loved to fuck. Over and over, he would push his thing between her legs and into her mouth, but never would he kiss her down there. Only Uncle Louis had ever kissed her down there.
Then she told me about how she lost her virginity, or as she said, she had lost nothing and gained a whole new look on life.
Erika was twelve when her uncle first started to approach her. She had been an early bloomer, had had her first period when she was 10 and had gone through 3 bra sizes by the time she was 11. When her uncle had kissed her, not in that friendly way he had always kissed her but in that way she had seen her momma and papa kiss when they thought she wasn't looking, she was both thrilled and frightened. Uncle Louis was a strong, handsome man, and of late she had been having strange feelings for him, and a number of older boys when she saw them.
When her uncle pulled away his mouth from her and saw her smiling at him, he had then reached out and began to squeeze her breasts through her shirt and bra. It felt very good to her, but he said it would feel even better if she was not wearing them. Trusting her uncle, she quickly took them off, and true enough, it did feel much better. Especially when he replaced his strong hands with his mouth and began sucking and nibbling on her nipples.
Then Uncle Louis began to rub her between her legs under her skirt, and that felt even better yet. When he asked her to take it and her panties off, she rushed as fast as she could to remove them. Her uncle had smiled at her downy patch of hair and at the woman's place underneath it that was starting to get damp. When he kissed his way down from her breasts, over her stomach, through the short brown hairs and to the woman's place, she again felt thrilled and frightened but also confused. She had sneaked watches at her parents doing things in their bedroom a few times, but they had never done this.
Then when his tongue started to lick and stroke her insides, she no longer cared. Her uncle only took a few minutes to kiss her into her very first orgasm. It had been such a sensation that she knew that she must do it again and again, as often as her uncle would let her.
Then he had taken the man's thing out of his pants.She had seen her father's and a few boys' before, but to actually be this close to one. She hesitantly reached out and touched the hard-looking rod and felt the heat it was giving off.
"You are burning up," she told her uncle.
He just smiled and told her that he knew of a way to cool off. Then he stuck the rod between her legs like she had seen her parents do. At first, it wasn't very nice, but after a moment, she began to feel more and more pleasant sensations as her uncle pushed back and forth in her. Just as she was really starting to feel really good, Uncle Louis made a loud grunt and spat out his seed into her.
She was a bit disappointed, but less than fifteen minutes later, Uncle Louis came back for more. And this time, he did not disappoint her.
After she told me about her first time, she in turn asked me about mine. I told her about Michelle and then a little bit about Kathy, which she seemed to find very exciting. She was very pleased when I told her that I was still seeing Michelle as often as we could. Her Uncle Louis had died 5 years ago in a traffic accident, and she missed him very much still.
Looking up from between her legs, I saw that she had removed her sweater and her bra and was happily playing with her nipples. The combined caresses quickened her release, and in less than a minute, my mouth was full of her juices as she began to flop her ass up and down, trying to drive my face even further into her.
"That was good!" she told me as she began to calm down. "I am going to miss you when you graduate."
I slid up her body, pussy juice dripping off of my chin in a wet trail, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
"I've still got three years left to go," I told her. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
She laughed and kissed me hard back, her tongue dancing in my mouth.
"Maybe yes, but this is the last of my classes for you to take."
"If you're worried that I won't want to see you once I'm no longer your student, you're wrong," I told her, reaching down to help guide my cock into her wet hole. "I'm not fucking you for good grades; I'm doing all right there on my own. I'm fucking you because you're beautiful, and I want you."
Raising myself on my hands and knees, I hunkered down and pounded away at her, my cock digging deeper and deeper inside her with every thrust.
"Yes, keep doing that," she pleaded, her head swinging back and forth with each thrust. "That feels so good."
I smiled down at her and nibbled on her throat and neck, then her ears, and then finally her lips. She really was the most sensual woman I'd ever known. Sure, Michelle, Kathy, Lisa, and Sheila were all sexy, but Erika had something they didn't - the experience and the drive to experience even more. Given time, I'm sure Michelle and Sheila would gain that quality, but for now, they were just too young.
"Give me more! Give me more!" Erika demanded as she pushed up against me with each thrust. I was buried in her to the very base of my cock, and for a second, I thought her hungry cunt was going to suck in my balls as well.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she began to chant, the familiar signal of a powerful vaginal orgasm building up, so I hurried my pace even further, plowing up and down so hard it felt like I was trying to set a new record for the hundred-meter dash.
"Yes! Yes! Yessssssssss!" she screamed as she threw her arms around me and pulled me tightly to her body as she came. Her mouth opened and sucked in my tongue, her diamond-hard nipples dug into my chest, while her hips fluttered up and down like a hummingbird's wings.
"Oh yes!" I yelled my own appreciative cheer as her tremoring cunt sucked the cum right out of my cock, swallowing it down inside itself.
For another minute, we held each other, our joined groins still trembling. Then she gave a slow, sensual kiss and rolled over so we were lying on our side, facing each other.
"Simon, did you mean that?" she asked me. "You will still come and see me when you have finished with my class?"
"Erika, for such a gorgeous, sexy woman, you have a bit of an insecurity problem," I joked. "As long as you want me, I'll come see you."
"That's nice, Simon," she said, hugging me tightly to her warm, soft body.
"But next time, can we go somewhere else? I think people are starting to notice that groove your ass is digging on the desktop."
She looked over before realizing I was teasing her.
"In that case, what are you doing this weekend? I have just bought a new waterbed, and it could use some trying out." | 4 |
71,896 | The Football Supporter | 'You want me to what?' I asked my sister-in-law.
'I want you to give me a baby. I thought that would be plain enough even for you, Jack,' she said, looking up at my six feet six frame from her five feet three frame.
'Why, what is wrong with George? I know he is a scrawny-looking man, but I'm sure he can manage that chore on his own,' I replied.
'That's just it, he can't. He has a very low sperm count and also a lot of damaged sperm. Well, that was what the doctor told us this morning. Oh, we may strike it lucky, but he said, "Don't hold your breath." Well, that was what he told me after George stormed out of the surgery,' Sarah explained.
'Surely, if I made you pregnant, he would know?' I replied.
'You both have the same mother and father, so who would tell the difference?' she countered.
I know my mother always said George and I had the same father. My father and George were almost a pair, both five feet seven and thin as racing snakes, with slumped shoulders and dark hair, whereas I was broad, blonde, and six and a half feet tall. No one ever took George and me for brothers, even though he was the eldest. I had even had to fight his battles for him. I honestly think my mother had a bit on the side, because no one on her side of the family were blonde or big.
Granted, we had the same blood group, but that didn't mean that much, not in these days of DNA testing.
'What if I too don't knock you up, maybe I'm like George?'
'I suppose Betty Talbert got her baby in a lucky bag?' she asked, smiling.
'Maybe it was one in a million chances that the doctor talked about,' I said, also smiling.
'Well, will you or not? I'm offering you it on a plate, without any of the restrictions or responsibilities,' she replied.
'So when do you want me to start?'
'My danger period starts on Friday. George is off to watch his team from Friday night, and he won't be back until Sunday. Can you come round on Friday after eight? He will have gone by then,' she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
'I'll be round on Friday evening then, Sarah, when I'll be seeing a good bit of you,' I said with a laugh.
She turned and walked away into the rain towards my brother's home. I walked the hundred yards to my parent's home and got the usual yell as I entered, 'Don't bang the door!' from my mother. Of course, it was too late, the door was on its way and banged shut.
'God, Jack, how many times have I to tell you,' she said, standing there in the passageway. I picked her up and gave her a kiss on the lips, but no mother-son kiss, for I had been screwing my mother for about two years now.
'She asked me to put her in the pudding club, Mum. Did you have something to do with this?' I asked, patting her on the bottom.
'Well, she was so upset, I kind of suggested it when she told me about the results of George's sperm count. I knew you would like to get between Sarah's legs, so this is your chance,' she said, smiling.
'Not afraid she will take me away from you, are you?' I said, sliding my hand up her dress and groping her wet, moist pussy.
'You know I'm off to my mother's for the next week, and I couldn't see you going without, all that length of time,' she said, opening her legs wider, so that I could insert two fingers into her wet, moist pussy.
'God, you're wet tonight, Mum. Got the hots?' I asked.
'Too late to do anything about it now, your father will be in, in just a minute,' she said, squirming away from me.
'You can wait,' I said, smiling, for I knew she would be creeping into my room tonight. Ever since I had stuck my great big cock into her, she has hardly missed a night. I've never met another woman who loves being fucked as much as my mother. My father, according to my mother, couldn't get a hard-on, even though she had tried many methods, including Viagra.
Friday, I said cheerio to my mother at the rail station and then drove round to see Sarah. I passed all the supporters' buses on their way south with their scarves and banners flapping in the air. Better them than me, for the forecast was for more rain, but they seemed impervious to such trivialities as a bit of rain. Myself, I would rather be stuck up some woman's pussy than standing in the cold watching a lot of stupid men chase after a ball.
I loved it when the supporters went to the away games; there were that many frustrated wives left that I usually picked one up easily, and I scored in the way I loved best.
Sarah was dressed in a see-through nightie, and it was obvious she had had a bath and doused herself in perfume, trying to make herself as sexy as possible. She needn't have bothered for me; the sight of a naked pussy was enough for me. Here she was with the lights low and all dressed up; she really looked a good-looking woman. Why the hell she chose George when she could have picked someone a lot better, I don't know. He was a typical drunken football supporter, all mouth and only one thing on their mind – football.
I started undressing right away, for I was definitely going to get into Sarah, and I think she had been thinking about this all day. Now she was even helping me off with my things and just throwing them on the sofa.
'I hope I'm not wanting me to fuck you here. I want to go to bed,' I said as she took off her nightie and stood in front of me naked.
'Wherever you want, Jack, I don't care, just fuck me,' she said, using my language, for I'd never heard her swear before.
I picked her small, light body up and carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed, swung her legs to the side, and she opened them, allowing me between her lovely, soft thighs. As I penetrated, she let out a long sigh as I opened her up and slid my cock into her. It was like she was a virgin, but this time, no blood, just a lovely feeling of her gripping the whole length of my cock.
'Jack, you are very big, so much bigger than George. I never thought it would feel so nice,' she said, thrusting her hips into me, trying to get even more of my cock into her.
I started with her as I had done with my mother, long, slow strokes, which seemed to drive her crazy, for she was thrashing herself onto my phallus, as though this was to be the last thing in life for her. She was nothing like Mum; Mum fitted me like a glove, and she was more receptive than Sarah. Who would ever have thought I would get to fuck the arse off Sarah? George should keep her serviced more, for if Sarah thinks this is just going to be a one-off affair, she was wrong.
Sarah was now in my clutches, and I will be making use of her whenever I felt like it. Oh, I'll let her have her baby, but after that, she'll be serviced by me. Mum said when I fucked her the first time that there would be no more, but the next night, she was in my bed, having my ten inches shoved up her hot and steamy cunt. Sarah will be the same, wait and see.
I kept my mind clear as I kept up my pounding into her body; she had a few climaxes, one in particular was really severe, and I bet I will ring the bell tonight. The remainder of the weekend will be for pure pleasure. I'll make sure she will never be satisfied with George's little cock anymore.
When I shot my bolt, I was as deep as I could go, and the only way my sperm could go was into her waiting cervix. Now she had me locked in with her lovely legs, which I was stroking and looking down at her.
'You like a big cock, don't you, Sarah?'
'Yes, it's a pity it is only for these few days.'
'Oh, it won't be. I'll be seeing you a lot more times,' I said as I withdrew from her moist heaven.
I got into bed and pulled her towards me; she came like a lamb.
'No, it would be wrong for us to carry on like this. All I want is a baby, and I'm sure you can give me one, Jack,' she said, kissing me.
Half an hour later, I was once again buried inside her body, but this time, she was riding the cock horse. Now she was pounding her hips, driving me deeper into her small frame than I had previously. I just let her work herself up, and I loved watching her breasts move like jellies as she ground her pelvis into mine, titillating her clitoris on my mound.
I lost count of the number of times I flooded her body with my semen all the next day and night. On Sunday, I was actually sore from the number of times I had poked my cock into her body; I have never felt so drained before. The one great thing was that I was leaving a very contented lady.
'You're right, Jack, I do want to see you again, so anytime you want, just come round, after all, you are my brother-in-law,' she said, smiling.
I went back home, filled a bath with warm water, and soaked myself, gently wrapping a warm face towel around my red cock. As I lay there, I realised this wasn't the way I wanted to die, not sore like this.
Three months later, I was walking up the road towards home, just dying to sink my cock into my Mum's hot pussy. She was that a good fuck, I often daydreamed about her. Walking towards us was Sarah and her mother. If there was one person I didn't want to meet, it was Sarah's mother. Her name was Esther, and as you can tell by her and her daughter's names, she was one of those religious types, always quoting the Bible. I think she knew it word for word, the whole Old and New Testaments.
'Jack, I'm pregnant, isn't it wonderful? I'm three months pregnant, and the doctor thinks it's twins,' she said, getting on her tiptoes and kissing me.
'I'm really happy for you. I'll have to come round and visit you some day,' I said.
'I think you have done enough damage, Jack, but my daughter is over the moon. She has at long last got her wish, but I disagreed with the method,' she said, scowling at me.
'You told her?' I said to Sarah, but not loud enough for Esther to hear.
'She knew. She came to visit me half an hour after you left that weekend, but she says at least it's in the family. She's really happy with her going to be a grandmother,' Sarah said, smiling.
'Sarah, walk on a piece. I want to say something to Jack,' Esther said to her daughter.
When Sarah was well out of earshot, Esther stood in front of me.'Sarah told me what you two had been up to. I didn't approve at the time, but I have changed my mind seeing how happy she is. I want you to come and see me, say Saturday afternoon. I don't want your affair with Sarah to continue,' she said.
'Ester, that is Sarah's choice, not yours, but I'll come and see you on Saturday,' I said, walking away and letting her catch up with Sarah.
That night, my father was off with his supporters club, and my mum and I had a really good time. I fucked her three times that night in my father's own bed.
'You're taking me to see my mother in two weeks, Jack. I want her to see you now and again. George goes up and sees her, so it's about time you did also,' my mother told me, as I was sunk into her lovely cunt. How could I refuse at a time like this?
I would rather have gone this weekend, and then I wouldn't have had to go and see Ester, but I will go with my mother to see Gran and maybe even my Great-grandmother.
Saturday afternoon, there was a home game, so there weren't that many easy pickings, so calling on Ester wasn't all that bad.
I was really glad Ester wasn't like some of the other religious freaks who dress all in black. Ester always wore bright, silky, floral dresses and always looked so neat and tidy, but her bible was never far away from her.
After coffee, we were sitting in her kitchen at her kitchen table. 'Jack, I don't want you calling on Sarah. I know what you said the other day, but I ask you to let her be with George,' she said so sincerely.
'Ester, when you have a good sex partner, you don't want to give her up. Sarah loves sex, and we get on great together,' I said, but I remembered how sore I was that Sunday morning when too much sex was bloody painful.
'Surely there are other women who would be willing to share their bed with you, someone who isn't married or is alone?' she said.
'It may be weeks before I could find one I liked, so why go hunting when I had one already?'
'What can I do to change your mind?' she asked.
'Well, you could take her place. I'm sure you would like a man to share your bed,' I said jokingly as I watched her face.
She went red and sat back in her chair and looked at me. 'I'm as old as your mother. Surely you wouldn't want to have sex with one my age?' she asked.
'Why not? Are you built differently from Sarah, and I'm sure you would love a bit of attention?'
'You're right about that, but you would leave Sarah alone if I took her place?' she asked.
'Didn't I say that? Well, what will it be? If you agree, let's see how you perform,' I teased her.
'Oh God, can I do this? I've never been in this situation before,' she pleaded.
She was sitting on an American classical chaise longue with its scroll padded end.
'Ester, stand up and bend over the end of the longue, and then you won't see me, but drop your knickers first,' I said to her. Now I expected her to really object, but she slipped her hands up the side of her dress whilst turned away from me and drew down her large knickers, they must have been the passion killer type for they were huge.
She leant over the end, and all I saw was her large rear end. I think the Americans designed these pieces of furniture for just this purpose. There were a few other designs of longues, but none so well designed for what I had in mind.
I got behind her and lifted up her dress and threw it over her back. Ester had the most perfect arse I've ever seen, lovely and soft and round with her mount just proud at the bottom. I took my cock in my hand and, parting her not so puffy lips, slid my cock into her passage.
At first, she was just slightly moist, but it was as if she had turned a tap on when my knob was in her vagina - her juices started flowing. I slowly penetrated her, but she was moaning and wriggling, saying it was sore as I spread her vagina to take my three-inch wide cock. She may have been moaning, but that didn't stop me sliding in as far as bumping my balls against her clitoris, right into the hilt.
I had a hold of her hips and held her in tight and waited on her getting a good feel of my shaft buried into her pussy.
'Well, Ester, want to continue, for I think you fit me like a glove. You are some lady, I am going to enjoy this,' I said.
'Wow, Jack, you must be huge, for I feel pleasantly stretched. Yes, I will willingly take Sarah's place,' she said in gasps as I was now stroking in and out of this delectable cunt.
God, my mother and her were two great fucks. I just loved the feel of their cunts, the way they completely held me into their bodies. Whoever said a young woman is the best fuck hadn't been sunk into these two ladies. Yes, this was going to be a lovely change every now and again, from sinking in my mum.
The pace increased, and I shot my load into her as she tried to reach behind herself to hold me. Her own vagina went into a spasm, and it was as though she was trying to milk me dry.
I withdrew, and she got up and turned, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me. 'Oh, Jack, that was lovely. Can you stay for a few hours longer? I would love to do that again, but I want to see you, not doing it like an animal,' she pleaded.
'Sure I can. See, you're becoming addicted already.'
'Anything to give Sarah a rest,' she said.
If she thought I was going to stop sinking one in Sarah from time to time, she had another thought coming. I don't fancy fucking a pregnant woman, but once she's back to normal, she will be getting the full ten inches again.
Twice more I shafted Ester before I left that evening. I could have stayed the night, but I had some mates to meet in our local at nine that evening. I left her well and truly fucked the last time I spent my load up her rectum. She screamed at first, but once I was in, she was more than happy to continue.
The following Saturday, I drove my mother the twenty miles to see Gran and Great-grandmother. This was going to be a surprise visit to my Great-grandmother for her wedding anniversary.
'Jack, drop me off at my grandmother's, and you go round and bring my mother round. My grandmother will be thrilled to see us all together,' mum explained.
Dropping mum off outside the front of Great Gran's house, I drove round to Gran's house, which was only about half a mile away. As I approached, I saw George's car parked in her driveway. What the hell was he doing here? He was meant to be at a soccer match that afternoon. Granted, it was just after twelve, and the football didn't start until three, plenty of time for him to get there.
I pulled alongside and walked round to the back, for I knew the back door was usually open. I walked in and heard grunts and a squeaking. I've encountered that noise before, but surely it couldn't be, I thought. Anyway, I tread lightly and approached where the sound was coming from.
Standing outside my Gran's door, I saw George's bare bottom humping Gran, who was lying face down across the bed, and her arse up in the air. I walked slowly in and tapped George lightly on the shoulder. I will say this for him, he was as cool as a cucumber and kept up the stroke.
Seeing this, I was as hard as a rock. I stepped out of my trousers and indicated to him to get off. He pulled back and dropped out, and I drove my cock into the gaping cunt, which caused Gran to straighten her arms and look around, for the difference in our sizes was tremendous. I pushed her down and drove as deep as I could.
'So you like cock, do you, Gran? Well, how do you like this one?' I said, driving in to the limit.
'George, get round to her head and let her give you a blow job,' I said as I was pumping her. George did just that, and now she had a cock at either end, pumping into her. George came first, but I soon followed and fell across her back.
'How long has this been going on, George?' I asked.
'About seven years. Why do you think I liked coming up here? You wouldn't come when I asked you. If you had, you too could have fucked Gran and Great Gran too,' he replied.
'God, and I thought you were one of those football mad fans, and here you were fucking the arses of our Grans. Isn't Great Gran a bit old to be still fucking?' I replied.
'Hey, you two, don't I get to have a say in all of this?' Gran said, with me still sunk into the hilt in her lovely warm cunt.
'Of course you do. How do you like my cock inside of you?' I asked.
'If I'd known you were so big, I should have dragged you up here.'
'Seven years, you were only seventeen then. No wonder you weren't that much interested in girls, you were getting your end away all that time,' I said, still sunk in her pussy. I slowly pulled out, and it just plopped out. I replaced my trousers as George did the same, and Gran went to the bathroom.
'Oh, that was when I started fucking Gran. I had been fucking Aunt Wilma a few years before that. I was a fourteen-year-old virgin when she seduced me. Then Gran caught us together, and that was when I started fucking Gran, and Great Gran. It was meant to be a one-off, but she is a bit of a nympho, and she can't get enough,' he explained.
'Does mum know this?' I asked.
'Hell no, she would do her nut if she knew,' he replied.
'Aunt Wilma is older than mum. What is it with you? Do you like the older women?' I asked, for I was curious, for I too preferred the mature female.
'Yeah, they are far better than the young ones. I really have trouble getting hard with Sarah, but I'm hard all the time with Gran,' he admitted.
'Where does Aunt Wilma live?' I asked, for I'd only met her a few times in my life and I would pass her on the street without recognising her.
'Two doors down. Come on, I'll take you down and introduce you to her. She is a bit like Great Gran, fucks like a rabbit.'
So we walked down to her house, and George just knocked and walked in. 'Wilma, it's me, George. I've brought someone to see you,' he shouted.
'I'm in the kitchen. Come right in,' she shouted back.
She looked as we entered. 'It can only be Jack. There are very few as big as you are.'"How do you do, Jack?" she said, holding out her small hand.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Remember what happened to us? Well, Jack's done the same with me and Gran," he said, smiling.
"So George has told you about us, then. Well, join the family," she said.
Just then, I heard the door open and close, and a man in his forties walked in. "Jack, Uncle Peter," George said, introducing us.
"My, you are a big man. How do you manage getting in and out of these doors?" he said, looking me up and down.
"I have learned to duck. It doesn't bother me now," I replied.
So Wilma was having a bit on the side, and by the way George was speaking, quite a good bit as well. I wonder how often George comes up here; he seems to know all the family.
"Look, I have to take Gran to Great Gran's mum's. It's Great Gran's wedding anniversary or something," I said, excusing myself.
Wilma was a real good-looking woman, with a pair of knockers that would put Dolly Parton to shame, and I'm sure hers are real. The way she was eyeing me up and down, she would drop her panties if I asked.
We returned to Gran's, and she was waiting for us. She just looked at me and smiled, then said, "I suppose I'll be seeing you up here more often."
"Only if you want me to visit; do you?"
"Don't ask such a stupid question; of course I do. You'll have to speak to George. There's more to this than you think," she said, getting in the car. Now, what did she mean by that, I thought.
George got in his car and headed south. I will be speaking with him later, that's for sure.
I drove Gran round to where Mum was, and when we arrived, Gran went in to see Great Gran, while I went to see Mum in the kitchen.
"Gran alright? You took your time," she said.
"George was there when I arrived, so I had to wait until he left for his football match," I replied.
"George and both the Grans were always close," she said.
God, if she only knew how close, not just close, but connected at their pussies. I can't speak, for I had just been with Gran myself. Mum was preparing something to eat, for Great Gran was in bed with a cold.
A few minutes later, Gran came into the kitchen and said to me, "Gran wants to speak to you, Jack. Go and keep her company for half an hour while I help your Mum."
"Well, go on then. You heard what Gran said," my Mum said.
In the bedroom, the old lady was lying on her back with the clothes up to her chin. "Close the door, Jack. There's a draft coming in," she said, smiling at me. So I closed the door, little knowing that it couldn't be opened from the outside.
"Well, how are you feeling?" I asked her.
"Cut the crap. I know what you and Mavis were up to, and that George has told you about us, so you don't need to pretend. Mavis said you are a really big, built young man. I would like to feel just how big you are," she said in her soft voice.
"Wow, you don't beat around the bush, do you? Straight to the point," I countered.
"When you get to my age, you can't afford to beat about the bush. George was going to come and see me today, so you'll have to fill in for him. That mother of yours should have warned me she was coming," she raved on.
"How do you mean, 'fill in for him'?" I asked, knowing quite well just how, but wanting her to tell me.
"It's the one thing I look forward to - a good, stiff cock. That's what I want, Jack," she said, throwing back the covers and revealing her naked body with the drooping breasts and the sparse pubic hairs. She opened her knees up after sliding her feet flat on the bed, and there in front of me was her wrinkled pussy with no outer lips. She was as flat as one can get, but her pink inner flesh was just showing and glistening with moisture.
I had never seen a cunt on a woman as old as she was before, but what the hell, if George was screwing this, then I could see no reason why I couldn't also. I dropped my trousers and stepped out of them, folding them onto a chair.
"Oh my, oh my! Mavis wasn't kidding, was she? How in hell did you get so big a cock, Jack? Mavis took that and thought she was in heaven. Come on, get it into me too," she said as I knelt between her legs on the bed.
She used two hands and guided me to her pussy, and I slid in as though we had been fucking for years. I was really surprised how warm and soft she felt as I thumped my pubis against hers, fully sunk in.
"Oh yes, Jack, you are a gift from heaven. Don't worry, slam it into me. I like to feel it really pumping into me," she said as I started moving in and out.
She wanted it rough, so I gave it to her, really slapping my shaft into this delectable, warm pussy. George was right; she was bumping her body hard into mine as I penetrated her, and when at last I unleashed my sperm into her, she gave a great sigh. I didn't want to hang about; I withdrew, and out poured a mixture of our combined juices, soaking the sheet.
"Look, Gran, while Mum is here, I don't want to be caught," I said.
"You did well, Jack. I'm satisfied for a while now," she said, smiling.
I left the room and returned to the kitchen. Gran had a smile on her face as she looked at me. The crafty bitch knew what was going on.
After we got back home, my mother wanted to know what Great Gran wanted to speak to me about. I just said that she asked where George was, for he was going to do something for her. I left it at that, so she was none the wiser.
"I saw your Aunt Wilma and Uncle Peter today. She is really stacked, isn't she?" I remarked.
"She really lets the men know what assets she has. Are you fancying her now?" Mum said.
"Why should I, when I have my own sex kitten right here?" I lied to her.
I was dying to talk to George, for the words Grandma said were going round and round in my head. "There is more to this than you think." What the hell does she mean by that?
Sunday morning, I was knocking on George's door before noon. When he saw me, he put his finger across his lips to indicate to say nothing as he let me in.
"I was just passing, George, and thought I'd call in," I said in a loud enough voice so that Sarah could hear, for I was sure that was who he was referring to. But when I entered, Esther was sitting on the edge of the sofa, and she looked up at me with her doe eyes. Christ, she was making it so obvious, I thought. "Hello, Jack. Will you walk me home?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure. George and I are walking that way to the pub," I said.
I could see that this wasn't the answer she wanted, but she accepted it. When we got to her house, I waved her goodbye, and off we went.
"Now, George, I want to find out what the hell is going on at Gran's. She tells me there is more than meets the eye, so tell me," I asked.
"Well, it's not just Gran and Aunt Wilma. Some of their friends also call round and are willing to drop their knickers," he said.
"When do you have time to fuck all these women?" I asked.
"I very seldom go to the football. That's only an excuse; I go up there, sometimes for the whole weekend. I was nearly caught the other week when Mum decided to come up for a few days. That weekend, I had to stay with a friend of Gran's, and she is a real ugly cow, but her disabled daughter sure loves being fucked," he said, smiling.
"And here was me thinking you were one of those bloody football idiots," I said.
"Coming to join me? We really could have a ball. There is more loose cunt around than you could ever handle, but two of us could really make a little dent."
Now, what happened after that is another story, which I may tell later. | 3 |
72,272 | A Wetting Fantasy | 'Today's the day! For sure this time! No backing out!'
That was Mindy's thought as she sat in class, near the window. Mindy was an average girl of thirteen, her brunette hair naturally curly. She had no distinguishable features that made her stand out from the crowd. Being on the very cusp of puberty, her body hadn't had the time yet to change much physically, very much that of a little girl, flat-chested and narrow-hipped... plainly average.
Only partly paying attention to the teacher, Mindy's mind swirled with her soon-to-be-reality fantasy, completely drenching her panties in her pee out in public, though without anyone seeing.
While most girls her age may have been developing feelings for other boys thanks to the flood of hormones, those same hormones had led Mindy down a very different path. Mindy was a girl who had yet to discover the joys of masturbation... or rather, discovered an alternate path to giving herself pleasure.
Urination.
Such a simple, mundane daily act, but for Mindy, even before entering puberty, found much delight in the pleasure of emptying her bladder, be it sitting on the toilet, taking a bath, or even, naughtily peeing in public swimming pools. What was boring to some and even an annoyance, Mindy took great delight in, often drinking plenty of water and pop, solely so she could release it as urine.
Once puberty hit, Mindy's delight in urination had turned into a near obsession. Suddenly, the delight she felt in peeing, particularly in public places, such as public pools, had grown much, much stronger. Mindy felt sensations she had never felt before - she'd get hot, her chest would get tighter, and a pleasant sensation would wash over her, different from the usual shudder of a good pee.
If Mindy were more knowledgeable, she'd understand these new sensations were that of arousal - the heat she felt; the heat of arousal, the tightness in her chest; the stiffening of her nipples, the pleasant sensation that would wash over her; the rush of sexual pleasure as her young flower moistened in preparation for an insertion that never came.
Occasionally, after a particularly satisfying urination, Mindy would be overcome with a pleasurable sensation that would temporarily rob her of her strength; an orgasm. Feeling these new sensations, it was no surprise that her delight of peeing had turned into a love.
And so, with hormones coursing through her thirteen-year-old body, Mindy began to develop a strong desire, or unknown to her, fetish, for peeing in public, but without anyone knowing or seeing. All of those moments occurred at public pools and it was often these times, that her sensations grew to a point that she experienced that overwhelming sensation.
Now though, Mindy began to tire of the restriction of peeing in public pools. She wanted to publicly pee in a different location, perhaps that overwhelming sensation would be even stronger, she often thought.
Recently, Mindy thought of a perfect new location; There was a small wooded area quite close behind the school, just a few seconds' walk from the door that she visited occasionally in her science class. It was a perfect location, close by, relatively thick; she'd just need to be about a yard or two in to be hidden and best of all, it was rarely ever visited.
Despite her growing love, Mindy had attempted going out to the woods after school before, but chickened out each time, though did get a little further each time, but never actually squatting down and releasing.
Today though, was different, she was GOING to go through with it, there was no way she was going to chicken out again, she had psyched herself up throughout the day, reminding herself of the secret activity she was going to do.
Through her failed attempts though, it allowed Mindy to further think about what she wanted to do. What started as simply removing her panties and letting go, had turned into the naughty idea of leaving her panties on! The idea itself brought a pleasant sensation through her young body.
Settling on her new idea, Mindy prepared for it; In her backpack, she brought with her, an extra pair of panties, a pack of towelettes and just in case, a matching skirt, in the event that she mistakenly wet her skirt. Mindy would be able to clean up with no one having a clue and she could meet her mom like always.
Mindy suddenly felt a poke to her right shoulder and gasped as her attention turned to the teacher at her side, with a pointing stick in her hand.
"Are you back with us, Mindy?" asks the teacher, with a smirk, before the giggles of the other students follow, bringing a blush to Mindy's cheeks.
"U-Uh... yeah, sorry about that, hehe..." answers Mindy, giggling in embarrassment.
"Good, you can daydream when the bell rings..." states the teacher, heading towards the head of the classroom. "Until then though, I expect you to pay attention."
"Ok..." sighs Mindy.
"So what's the answer to this problem?" asks the teacher.
"H-Huh!?" gasps Mindy. "Me!?"
* Bell Ringing *
"Mmmm..." mumbles Mindy in frustration as she stood up from her desk, placing her textbook in her backpack. "Why does Mrs. Popper have to pick on me like that?" she complains.
Mindy though sees the extra skirt she had packed in her backpack and a smile quickly comes to her face, reminded of what she intended to do, before zipping closed her backpack.
"Well I can't let it get me down, I got something exciting to do!" she declares to herself in a gleeful giggle.
"What are you doing?"
"Yeah, what's got you so happy?"
Mindy immediately gasps in shock, so surprised that she fell back in exaggerated display, landing on her butt, with her skirt flipping up and exposing her white panties.
"Owww..." groans Mindy, rubbing her butt, before looking up, seeing the two who surprised her, her two friends, Helen and Amanda.
Helen was a twelve-year-old blonde with long hair styled in two ponytails, who wore glasses and dressed in a T-shirt and skirt.
Amanda, thirteen as well, had boyishly short black hair, but unlike Mindy, puberty had begun to noticeably affect her, having budding, growing breasts allowing the wearing of a training bra, she was dressed in a blouse and jeans.
"Hehe, oops," giggles Helen. "We didn't mean to scare you."
"Yeah, sorry about that," adds Amanda, reaching a hand out to Mindy, who takes the offered hand and pulls herself up, brushing off the back of her skirt.
"That's ok," answers Mindy.
"So what are you so happy about?" asks Helen.
"U-Uh, nothing," nervously answers Mindy, picking up her backpack and slinging it around her shoulders to her back.
"It certainly didn't look like nothing," urges Amanda, with a grin. "Come on, you're hiding something, I can tell."
"No I'm not," answers Mindy, her face growing increasingly red, before heading towards the door, adding, "I have to get going."
The two girls watch as Mindy nears the door, seeing as their friend gave a nervous look back to them, before quickly looking away with their eyes meeting and heading out of the room. Helen and Amanda look to each other with a knowing grin.
"Thinking what I'm thinking?" asks Helen.
"Oh yeah, we gotta find out what's up!" answers Amanda.
Moments after stepping out of the classroom and walking down the hall, away from where the front of the school was, Mindy gave a disappointed sigh.
"I was nearly caught... I can't let myself get so excited with other people around... mmm, maybe I shouldn't do it today..." thinks aloud Mindy, though to herself, she barely considered canceling the secret event, before shaking her head. "No! I can't! I said I was going to do it today and that's what I'm going to do! After all, I even brought a spare set of panties and skirt, I HAVE to do it today!"
With her goal re-affirmed and an excited smile on her face, Mindy hurried through the crowd of students to the back of the school, she couldn't get there quick enough!
However, nearing the hall with the door leading out to the woods, Mindy suddenly felt as if she were being watched and quickly stopped and looked back. With the dwindling number of students, she couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary.
Seeing no one, Mindy slowly resumed walking, her first thought being her two friends following her...
"Helen and Amanda are really nosy... maybe I shouldn't... NO! I can't chicken out again! It's just my nerves getting to me again, yeah, that's it. I'm not acting weird or anything after all, there's no reason for anyone to be following me."
"Phew, that was close," comments Helen, as she and Amanda quickly dart behind an open door as they see Mindy look back."You can say that again," adds Amanda. "It's a good thing there are still a lot of people walking around; I think she would've seen us for sure."
After a moment, Helen pokes her head from the door.
"Hey, she's gone, come on!"
The two quickly leave the door and walk to the end of the hallway, looking left and right, before Amanda, who was looking right, spots Mindy quickly heading to the door at the end.
"There! She's going out that door."
"The mystery deepens..." comments Helen, grinning as she adjusts her glasses, before the two quickly follow.
Finally leaving the building, Mindy let the excitement fill her as she giddily marched rapidly in place at her fantasy about to become a reality and wasted no time, quickly running across the pavement separating the school grounds from the large wooden area before her as she entered the forest.
Opening the door, Helen caught a glimpse of Mindy's backpack before she disappeared into the woods.
"I think she just went into the woods," comments Helen.
"Why would she go in there?" questions Amanda.
"I don't know," answers Helen, shrugging her shoulders. "But there's only one way to find out! Shall we?" she adds, grinning.
"We shall," replies Amanda, before the two girls quickly followed Mindy, quite curious as to their friend's odd behavior.
"Finally! Finally, finally! I can't believe I'm about to do this!" excitedly declares Mindy, skipping through the trees, before coming to a stop and looking around. "Okay, where looks good..." she comments, before quickly adding, "What the heck, any spot is as good as any..."
With that, Mindy pulls her backpack from her back and holds it in her right hand as she walks to the closest tree, placing her backpack off to the side and turning her back to the tree and squatting down.
"Hehehehehe!"
Mindy giggled uncontrollably at what she was about to do, the familiar sensations began to come to her, suddenly getting hot; arousal, the tightness in her chest; the stiffening of her nipples.
"Hey, there she is!" gasps Amanda, before the two girls duck behind a tree.
"Where?" asks Helen.
"Right there," replies Amanda, pointing a finger a few yards in front of them.
With all the leafy trees and greenery, it was a little difficult for Helen to locate their friend, but soon did.
"Oh, yeah, I see her!" states Helen. "But what's she doing?"
"I don't know, she's just squatting down against that tree," comments Amanda.
"I'm not gonna chicken out, I'm not gonna chicken out..." repeats Mindy.
So close to fulfilling her fantasy, Mindy began to feel very nervous, but quickly tried calming herself.
"There's no reason to chicken out now, I got spare underwear, come on, just do it! Do it! Do it!" she adds, pushing herself to go through with it.
She knew she couldn't delay for long though, she would need to be heading back to meet her mom picking her up.
Determined to proceed and encouraged by the growing sensations running through her young body, Mindy took a few quick breaths, before giving a quick scan of the area, checking to make sure she was alone. After deeming she was in the clear, Mindy hiked up her skirt...
"Hey, she's lifting her skirt," whispers Helen.
"I know, but why?" adds Amanda. "She's spreading her legs too..."
Seeing their friend spread her legs, clearly revealing her panties, both gave a low gasp, before Amanda comments...
"She couldn't be!"
Following the spread of her legs, Mindy felt her heart racing, beating faster than she ever remembered, as she relished the tingling sensation of relaxing and feeling her pee flow from her bladder and through her urethra, before a moan of delight leaves her lips as she felt her pee burst free and immediately felt her panties dampen. The fabric gaining a wet spot that quickly elongated and spread rapidly over her covered, innocent lower lips, before the rapid 'pat, pat, pat' sound began as her urine fell to the ground.
"Ohhhhh~ It feels so good!" declares Mindy, feeling a familiar tingling around her center, the presence of her panties getting wet and clinging to her added new sensations she wasn't expecting.
She took a moment to open her eyes and look down at herself and moaned in further delight as she saw the crotch of her panties saturated and a trail of her pee traveling from her on the ground. Soon, yet another moan leaves her as she felt a stronger, pleasant, though familiar sensation began to come over her, emanating from her center. Reflexively, Mindy began to thrust her hips slightly, placing her head back against the tree as she eagerly continued to pee.
"Ohhhh~ Yes... so good! Mmm... that wonderful feeling is coming again!"
A few delightful, pleasurable moments more pass as Mindy emptied her bladder, before Mindy quickly bites her lower lip as she felt her urination coming to an end. Giving a few pushes to liberate the lingering amount of pee, that familiar sensation became much stronger, as with the last amount of pee finding the exit, Mindy gave a shudder and a sudden groan as that wonderful feeling overtook her body, forcing a loud moan from her as she felt her center throb with sensation and echo throughout her young body.
Rather quickly, Mindy felt the sensations suddenly intensify, forcing her to close her legs and cover her mouth as it overwhelmed her.
She knew she was alone, but Mindy thought she was being too loud, she didn't want to alert anyone to check to see what was going on.
Although, attempting to hold back, even just a moan, seemed to make the sensations even more intense, it was beginning to become more than she could handle as she quickly leans forward, away from the tree, placing her other hand to the ground and resting her forehead on her arm as she moans loudly against her hand as her center seemed to explode with fresh, new sensations.
After what seemed like forever, Mindy felt the sensations fade, slumping over to her right side, Mindy felt completely drained, breathing rapidly, the spot between her legs still throbbing pleasantly.
Helen and Amanda, stood speechless at what they had witnessed, mouths agape and their faces tomato red.
"Wow..." sighs Mindy. "That felt amazing!" she adds, before tiredly forcing herself up on her legs. "But I can't waste any more time, mom is going to start wondering what's taking me so long."
Slowly getting to her feet on shaky legs, Mindy first looks over her skirt, after brushing off a few dead leaves, found that it was dry and didn't need replacing, but her panties' fate was sealed. Reaching under her skirt, Mindy pulls her saturated panties down, giggling with the cool breeze tickling her flower.
Although, Mindy was a little puzzled when she felt the crotch of her panties sticking to her briefly and feeling a slimy sensation.
"Huh?"
Freeing her underwear from her legs, Mindy looked in the crotch of her panties and while she expected to see just the dark saturation of her pee, what she didn't expect to see was a whitish, clear, thicker fluid.
"What the heck is that?"
Dipping a finger into the unfamiliar fluid, Mindy found that it was stringy when she pulled her finger away.
Quickly lifting her skirt, exposing her wet flower, Mindy placed a finger to her lips, pulling away, she sees a long string form and thin out.
"What the heck is this stuff!? | 4 |
72,833 | The Seduction of the Teacher | 'Damn the train!' Sandy thought to herself as she hurried along the narrow street that led from the station to the school where she worked. The train had arrived 20 minutes late, and now she was barely going to make it in time for her first class of the day.
It was mid-April, but the temperature was already pleasant, lingering just below 20 degrees Celsius. She unbuttoned her jacket, partly revealing her nice figure. Her stomach was flat, and the medium-sized breasts firm due to many hours of gym classes. Under her jacket, she was wearing a tight, red jumper tucked into a pair of low-cut jeans. Her dark-colored, medium-length hair, perfectly matching her emerald green eyes, was arranged in a ponytail.
The 28-year-old French teacher couldn't believe her luck when she got her first job application accepted after graduating from the university three years ago. The small private school, situated in the large East-coast city, was sponsored by the fashion industry. This meant that the students, apart from regular courses like math, social science, and English, also had courses in subjects like makeup artist or fashion designer. They even got to do a few weeks of internship at various companies in the business. Sandy herself lived in a smaller town north of the city, but she could easily commute by train.
Due to the school's special curriculum, nearly 90% of the students were girls, and this was heaven to Sandy. She had come to terms with her bisexuality a long time ago and now she could spend all day secretly drooling over teenage girls with tight bodies and getting paid for it! She had never acted on her urges until now, but didn't know how much longer she could manage.
She continued up to the school, thinking about the ongoing project she had in the freshmen class she was going to teach this morning. The students had each chosen one French author to write about, and in the end, they would do a PowerPoint presentation of their work in front of the class.
Sandy just had time to leave her jacket in her workroom before rushing to the computer room. She was going to spend the first hour there, together with half of the class involved in the project, searching for author information on the Internet.
When she closed the door behind her, she was surprised to see only seven of the fifteen students of the group sitting in front of the computer screens.
"Sorry I'm late."
"Better late than never," a perky little blonde said with a radiant smile. Her name was Jo, she was 16, and Sandy thought she had the most adorable dimples. Jo was wearing a white knitted sweater and jeans. Her hair was drawn back in a ponytail, similar to Sandy's.
"Where is the rest of the class?"
"Don't you remember? They're practicing for the big basketball game." It was Heather, a long-legged, 16-year-old with long, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She had the horniest blue eyes and an awesome figure tightly tucked into a black top and low-cut jeans, showing off her firm stomach. The eyes just couldn't be described any other way, and Sandy got weak in her knees every time Heather looked at her.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot about that." Sandy briefly thought about the abysmal basketball team the school had. The few boys attending the school were, needless to say, very feminine and were always beaten badly when they played. She couldn't understand why they kept on doing it. On the other hand, the Cheerleading squad was awesome, and Sandy always enjoyed watching them immensely.
The girl sitting next to Heather was Paige, a most adorable shy little blonde girl with velvet blue eyes. She was wearing a black, low-necked top and jeans. Sandy had often wondered about Heather and Paige, always holding hands and hugging.
Three of the other four girls in the room were also 16. Nicky, dark-haired with blonde locks, was wearing a dark blue cardigan with a zipper at the front and jeans. She was a tiny girl with a nice, but not yet fully developed, body.
Brooke was a pretty girl with long, straight, blonde hair tucked in under a cap. She had on a training jacket and baggy, low-cut pants.
Robin had short dark hair, was a bit chubby with a nice smile. She was wearing a college sweater and jeans and was the smartest girl in class.
The last girl's name was Julie. She had quit another education when she inherited from her grandmother and got enough money to pay for the tuition. She was 19 years old, and the other girls in class thought she had the most beautiful pair of large breasts. The round globes were pressing through a tight red top, and she had on a pair of low-cut jeans. The 19-year-old had mysterious dark eyes and medium-length brown hair pulled back by a headband.
Soon the girls were focused on their screens, and Sandy sat down at the teacher's desk in front and began to correct some papers. A few minutes later, Paige called her over. She wasn't sure what to write in the search frame to find the author of her choice.
While helping Paige, Sandy couldn't avoid noticing Heather stretching backwards with her arms and pushing her chest forward. The young girl's top rose even more, giving the teacher a clear view of her flat stomach. The outline of her perfectly rounded, braless breasts was clearly visible through the fabric.
She fixed her "fuck-me" eyes on Sandy with a mischievous look on her face.
"My shoulders hurt from all the computer using in your class lately. Can't you rub them for me, please?"
The other girls seemed to be hard at work, but they were all secretly watching Sandy, waiting for her response. Ever since they started in August, they've heard rumors about the 28-year-old teacher being into girls. They've seen the way she looked at them and had often talked about it. They were all, like most teenage girls, more or less fantasizing about lesbian sex, and Heather had bragged about how she was going to seduce the sexy French teacher.
Sandy, suddenly struck by the erotic image of herself massaging Heather's naked shoulders, didn't know what to say. Her nipples started to harden, and she struggled to keep her composure.
"That wouldn't be appropriate for me to do as I'm your teacher, Heather," she said, as calmly as she could.
"Why don't you ask Paige if it bothers you that much?"
Heather turned to Paige with a smile.
"Would you, honey?"
Cute little Paige was only too eager to comply and immediately moved her stool to position herself behind Heather.
Sandy returned to her desk and sat down. The prospect of watching Paige giving Heather a rubdown was affecting her, and she felt her pussy getting moist.
Paige's fingers were already eagerly working on Heather's back. The blonde girl closed her eyes and moaned softly. The teacher, at the same time trying to be discreet, couldn't help staring in fascination at what was happening in front of her. Paige's left hand slowly raised Heather's top inch by inch while her right hand moved around her friend's narrow waist and began massaging the firm stomach.
Sandy felt her pussy getting wetter and wetter. 'I'm going to go crazy if I don't get a release real soon,' she thought to herself. She briefly considered excusing herself to go to the ladies' room to masturbate but decided against it. She wouldn't miss this show for anything in the world. Instead, she slowly lowered her right hand into her lap and softly squeezed her pussy right through her jeans. The sensation was incredible, and a little moan escaped her lips.
Heather's top was now bunched up right below her shoulder blades, and Paige had both her arms around the slender body. Paige's hands were lingering just below the blonde girl's breasts, and Heather's breathing was becoming more rapid.
Sandy started to rub her pussy in slow rhythmic motions and took a quick glance at the other girls. They all seemed to be deeply concentrated on their work. In reality, they were all concentrating on the teacher's hand. They were mesmerized by Paige's and Heather's boldness and couldn't wait to see what would happen next.
Paige's nimble hands quickly slipped under the top and landed directly on Heather's braless globes. Heather jerked at the sensation and leaned back into Paige as the smaller girl eagerly began to knead the firm flesh.
"That feels so good," Heather whispered as Paige started to lick her earlobe.
Sandy was now getting really worked up. 'How do I stop this?' she thought. In reality, she didn't want to stop anything, and she had become far too aroused to think about the consequences.
"I need some help, please." Sandy looked up in surprise; she had forgotten all about the other girls. It was Jo who had called. The pretty little blonde, sitting next to Paige and Heather, looked at her with an innocent smile on her lips.The teacher rose to her feet and unsteadily walked over to her student.
When she leaned forward to look at Jo's screen, she suddenly felt a hand on her right buttock. "I really should stop this now," she thought desperately, but instead, she pretended not to notice the touch and continued to help Jo. The hand quickly slid between her buttocks and started to rub directly at her pussy.
"Is this something like what you were doing at the desk, miss?" a cheerful, excited voice said. She glanced over her shoulder and found herself looking straight into the horny eyes of Heather. Her top was now bunched up under her chin, giving Sandy a clear view of the most beautiful breasts she'd ever seen. The girl's left hand was busy between the teacher's legs, and her jeans were unbuttoned with Paige's right hand inside. Paige's left hand continuously stimulated Heather's left breast with rapid, circular motions.
"Oh my good..." was all the stunned teacher had time to say. She felt firm hands press against the small of her back, and soon she found herself face-down beside Jo's computer screen. Teenage hands quickly unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down to her ankles, exposing her white cotton panties. A dark, wet spot had already formed at the front.
'Beautiful,' Heather thought, slowly pulling the white panties over the teacher's firm buttocks, and then gasped as she felt Paige's fingers penetrate her own pussy lips.
She pulled her own top all the way off her upper body, took a firm hold on the nicely rounded globes in front of her, and spread them as wide as she could, making the teacher whimper. Sandy's jeans and panties had suddenly disappeared, but she was now too excited to care what the teenagers did to her. She just wanted to come. The teacher soon had Heather's hand on her bare pussy, massaging it with rapid motions.
"Please..." she murmured.
"Please what, miss?" Heather asked innocently. She pressed her thumb at her teacher's pussy opening. Her forefinger found Sandy's clit and started to stimulate it.
"Please fuck me..."
"Ok." Heather's thumb pressed through Sandy's pussy lips and went inside, all the way up to the hilt. "Uuugh..." was all the teacher could say.
Paige, still behind Heather, swiftly removed her friend's jeans from her long legs. She pulled Heather's g-string aside, spread the firm ass cheeks apart, and jammed her face between them. Heather moaned, leaned forward, and did the same to her French-teacher.
Sandy's mind was racing. Thirty minutes ago, her only concern was getting to the class on time, and now she was bent over a table with one of her student's tongue between her ass cheeks. And she loved it! She decided to continue and face the consequences later on. She looked up just to see two bare breasts with erect nipples blocking her view.
"Please, suck them, miss," Jo said shyly. The 28-year-old teacher raised herself on her forearms and eagerly clamped her mouth around one of her 12-years-younger student's nipples.
Jo reached out over Sandy's head, took a hold of her jumper, and pulled it up to under her armpits. She removed the teacher's bra and started to work on the freed breasts with rapid motions. Sandy's breath became more and more ragged. Her ass started to rotate, and the girls realized that she was on the verge of coming.
"Don't make her come, yet," Paige said, raising herself up from behind Heather. Jo released her grips on the teacher's erect nipples and drew the bunched-up jumper all the way over Sandy's head. Heather, completely naked except for her g-string, reluctantly withdrew her tongue and rose.
"Oh no, I'm so close..." the teacher moaned.
"Turn around, miss," Paige said in a husky voice. Sandy rolled over on her back and watched Heather pull off her g-string and climb on top of her. The naked girl and woman glued their lips together and started French-kissing vigorously.
Sandy was in heaven. She had never felt such passion before. The sexy 16-year-old, sprawled naked on top of her, did wonders with her tongue. It felt like she had shoved it all the way down her throat. She reached out and took a firm grip on Heather's buttocks and pressed the girl's wet, swollen pussy against her thigh. The blonde gasped with pleasure and immediately started to grind her pelvis up and down.Paige looked over the teacher's shoulder and saw her best friend Heather, with her sexy eyes closed, leaning back into the half-naked Jo.
"Best French-class ever, right?" She said happily.
"But you haven't gotten your clothes off yet, honey," Heather replied, focusing her eyes, hornier than ever, on Paige.
"I'll be happy to take care of that," Julie said with a smile. She stood up, leaving a half-unconscious Nicky behind, and quickly moved over to Paige. She took the younger girl by her hands and raised her to her feet. Paige's jeans were unbuttoned and lowered to her ankles, and then her top was pushed over her breasts. Julie removed the pretty, white bra and then took a firm grip on the blonde's hips, lifting her up onto a table.
Resting on her elbows, a surprised Paige saw her jeans being pulled off her feet and her panties going the same way. Julie then raised the girl's slender legs up in the air, giving herself full access to the beautiful teenage cunt. She spread the pussy lips with her hands and drove her extended tongue deep into Paige's opening. Paige groaned, and her legs came down to rest on Julie's shoulders. The 19-year-old eagerly moved her tongue all over the wet folds, while her hands moved from the girl's hips, briefly caressing the flat stomach before reaching Paige's firm breasts.
Paige's mind was racing. Ever since last autumn, she had secretly been fantasizing about the more mature dark-haired beauty, and now she had Julie's mouth between her legs and Julie's hands on her breasts.
The teacher had forgotten all about getting her students not to talk about what had happened. Her green eyes were focused on Paige's naked teenage body in front of her. Julie's face was buried deep between Paige's legs, while her hands were busy stimulating the cute blonde's nipples.
Suddenly Sandy felt a hand on her stomach.
"Could you make me come, miss?" Jo, naked from the waist up, was standing beside her, looking at the French-teacher in anticipation. Jo had her jeans pushed down over her hips, which gave Sandy open access to her pussy. She grabbed one of the perky little blonde's ass cheeks with one hand and drew the girl close to her. Gently, she started to probe the wet pussy with two of her fingers and eagerly sucked one of Jo's nipples into her mouth.
"I want to come again," Heather said. The naked, long-legged blonde quickly climbed the table that Paige was lying on and straddled her friend's stomach. She lowered herself down, and her mouth quickly found Paige's. With their stomachs and breasts tightly pressed together, the two friends shoved their tongues deeply into each other's mouths. Two of Julie's fingers immediately found their way into Heather's love-tunnel, and she started to pump the pussy with long, rhythmic strokes, with her face still glued between Paige's legs.
Jo was close to coming. Her teacher had three fingers shoved deep inside her pussy, and the thumb was stimulating the girl's clit. Sandy's other hand was busy massaging the student's left ass-cheek, and she greedily sucked hard on one of the girl's erect nipples.
Julie switched her mouth from Emily's little pussy to the sexy ass of Heather and started to rapidly lick her from behind. Two fingers of her right hand were busy in Paige's cunt, pumping hard. The girls, tightly embraced, had started to moan into each other's mouths, and, in no time, Heather came for her second time, and shortly after, Paige climaxed with her pussy juices dripping down her ass crack.
"I'm coming!" Jo suddenly moaned, threw her head backwards, and shuddered. Sandy kept her fingers moving throughout the orgasm, prolonging Jo's pleasure.
Julie stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 'How cool is this?' she thought. In less than 45 minutes, she had brought three of her delectable little classmates to orgasm, and she hadn't even removed her own clothes.
An embarrassed Sandy quickly began to dress.
"I-I-I don't know what to say, girls," she stammered. Heather, pulling her jeans up, looked at her with those gorgeous fuck-me-eyes.
"Don't worry about us telling, miss." She stepped forward and kissed the teacher once more, and Sandy felt her pussy tingle. She released Sandy's mouth, stepped back, and seemed to be thinking while biting her lower lip.
"We'll be happy just as long as you let us do some extra-curricular activities on you once in a while." The teacher, well aware of what the pretty blonde meant, felt her face getting bright red.
"But I'm your teacher..." Heather pulled her top down and smiled.
"And you're great at handling your students."
The five remaining girls were now all fully dressed and, before Sandy could say anything else, they walked out of the room, leaving the sexy French-teacher behind. | 4 |
72,918 | Ski trip - part 1 | 'I'm way too overdressed,' Sandy thought as she used her poles to move forward in the line leading to the 4-seat ski lift. They had arrived at Val Thorens late last night, all eight of them looking forward to a fabulous week in the well-known ski resort.
It was her, her husband Mark, and three other couples. She was a mother of two and rapidly approaching forty, but had managed to stay fit due to hours of running and aerobics. She had very much enjoyed shopping for a new skiing outfit, and Mark had confirmed how sexy she looked this morning by giving her butt a firm squeeze while kissing her full on the mouth.
They had all left the kids at home, and the prospect of finally being able to have some uninterrupted lovemaking was kind of turning her on. She wouldn't have said no to doing it again this morning the way they had done it last night, but the others had been waiting, and now she was here in the lift on her own.
She was feeling quite insecure about whether she still had her skiing abilities and had explained to the others that she wanted this morning by herself on the blue slopes. Terri and Stephanie, two of the other females in the four couplings, were beginners and had gone off to a private ski lesson with a very young and very good-looking female instructor.
Mark, along with Richard, Tom, Patrick, and Patrick's wife Meghan, were all very skilled and had decided to head towards a part of the lift system with a lot of nice red slopes.
It was now 10 am local time, and they had booked a late lunch at 1 pm up in one of the many restaurants situated among the slopes. The sun was blazing from a clear blue sky, and at three degrees Celsius below zero, there really was no need for a cap.
She had her long auburn-colored hair arranged in a ponytail and was wearing dark sunglasses. Her blue-grey discreetly patterned hooded ski jacket was matching her off-white ski pants perfectly, but it was what she had underneath that was causing the problem. Her newly bought thermal underwear was way too effective, making her sweaty all over, especially in her groin area.
It was itching like hell, and finally, she decided she couldn't take it anymore. She inched herself to the side to make room for the people waiting in line behind her and planted her poles into the snow before removing her ski gloves. After some fidgeting, she managed to undo the fly of her ski pants.
She nervously started to adjust her underwear and almost lost her balance when feeling a hand on each of her shoulder blades. She instinctively grabbed her poles while being pushed forward and helplessly felt her ski pants, now with no hands to hold them up, slide down over her hips.
Suddenly she found herself surrounded by female snowboarders positioned to sit down onto the seat of the next lift.
"But..." she tried, and then she had no option but to sit down as the moving seat touched her calves.
Feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed, she looked back over her shoulder towards a family of four sitting down behind them. The two teenage girls were talking with their mother, but the father was looking straight towards her, and the realization that she was being watched gave her an odd but not entirely unpleasant feeling.
"God...my pants..." she mumbled, turning towards the girl next to her.
She really hadn't seen this coming. She had been set on going up the lift by herself, but obviously, the girls had been too eager to wait. Now she was squeezed in with her pink thermal underwear showing and with one girl to her left and two more to her right.
The teenagers started to talk to each other in a language she recognized as Scandinavian, and she braced herself before working up the guts to turn to face the girl to her left. The teenager was stunningly beautiful in an exotic kind of way.
Dark hair neatly arranged in two braids and a lovely pair of big brown eyes framed above by the sexiest pair of eyebrows Sandy had ever seen. The girl was wearing a knitted cap, and although no more than sixteen or seventeen, she was so beautiful.
"Let me help you with that," she said with a cute accent, smiling towards her, and at first, Sandy didn't understand what she meant.
Then the girl quickly removed her glove, placing her hand on Sandy's thigh dangerously close to her pussy.
"Oh no...please don't..."
But her body seemed to have gone all numb. Moving her eyes from the girl's to her own lap, she could do nothing but to watch as the slender hand closed in on her crotch.
`God...what is this...` she dimly thought.
To have a guy hit on her would have been something she could handle, but this...having this girl less than half her age touch her like this was so unimaginably kinky and crazy. Suddenly the girl slipped her hand inside, and she gasped when feeling the light pressure of the soft palm against her pussy through the double layer of cotton.
"I'm a little cold..." the girl mumbled "...can I just..."
Of course, she could, although Sandy had no idea why she let her. Nimble fingers searched for the hemline, and she whimpered a little as the girl's colder skin met her own. She was happily married and hadn't even considered cheating on her husband over the twelve years of their relationship, and now she had this girl's hand against her tense stomach right above her pubic hair.
But the situation was so incredibly erotic in a very far-out strange kind of way. The girl seemed to be waiting for a negative response, but getting none, she slowly slid her fingers downwards, pushing the thermal underwear and her panties along with them. The girl's hand against her pubic hair felt amazing, and then the middle finger started to sink down in between her by now really moist outer lips.
"Aaah..." she moaned automatically, spreading her thighs a little more.
She was about to be masturbated in a ski lift by a teenage girl, and there was nothing she could or wanted to do about it. A hand, soft but firm on her cheek, made her turn in the opposite direction. The girl to her right, equally young and equally pretty, was just inches away. Wearing a bandana to cover her ears from the cold and her long dark hair up in a ponytail, she looked like taken directly from a snowboarding advertisement.
She had pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead and was watching Sandy with glittering blue eyes. Her intentions were all too clear, and Sandy again whimpered, opening her mouth to meet the girl's lips and tongue. The other girl now had her finger all the way inside of her pussy, at first moving it around a little to coat it with her juices. Then she rhythmically started to push it back and forth, pulling Sandy's moist pink flesh along as she began finger-fucking her. She really would have wanted to watch as well as feel, but the kiss was intense beyond belief now.
The girl was so skilled and eager, completely taking over her mouth, and her rapidly moving tongue was reaching incredibly deep. She was gasping for air, feeling hands searching in under her jacket and sweater. Her bra cups were pushed to the side, and her breasts were covered by craving hands. She had no idea which girl was doing it, but that didn't seem to matter. The thing consuming her mind at the moment was her rapidly approaching climax. There was no way she could hold back, and she arched her back as she started to orgasm, letting one girl suck her tongue as the other one kept on fucking her all the way through.
She barely had time to catch her breath, and then the girls were gone as surprisingly as they had showed up. She quickly pulled her ski pants back up and looked down into the snow to avoid people's stares as she made her way toward the big map over the slopes. There was no way she could adjust her bra cups without causing too much attention, so she left them the way they were.
`Oh god, oh god, oh god...what just happened?` she wearily said to herself while trying to figure out a way to go.
She couldn't believe she had let the girls do this to her. They had actually fucked her, and she had done nothing to stop it. She was too worked up to make any sense of the instructions on the map, but there was a passage to the left of it that seemed quite easy. She decided to take it while trying to gather her thoughts and soon was slowly gliding forwards along the slightly angled slope. | 3 |
73,726 | The Pact: Episode 2 -- Things Get Complicated | 'Randy is a MACHINE!' Trish thought dimly. She'd already had two, big, blow-the-top-of-your-head-off orgasms, and Randy was still pounding away like he had all afternoon! She'd underestimated him, BIG time! Control was out the window; her nipples hummed like tuning forks, they were so hard and sensitive, and she was trying her damnedest to climb up his pole from below -- even while he pinned her to the mat with it! 'FUCK dog tongues!' Trish thought, 'Gawd -- no wonder Mom drops on her back when she smells a cock!' Then conscious thought faded, driven from her mind by the driving urgency.
Upstairs, Candace was standing at the sink when a voice sounded behind her, "There you are!"
"Damian!" She spun and put her back to the counter, waving a finger. "You can't just come in here and..."
Damian didn't say anything; he just looked around, blandly.
Candace's shoulders slumped. "What do you want?" It wasn't a generalized query, and it wasn't rhetorical -- it was, literally, an inquiry into what he wanted from her.
"You. On your bed. With your knees up around your ears," Damian replied confidently.
Candace nodded and headed for her bedroom.
When they got there, Candace started getting out of her clothing. Damian asked mildly, "What was that all about?"
Candace shrugged. "I always have an attack of stupidity on the front end. I'm just learning to stop before things go too far."
"I decide that," was Damian's response. "Up here on the edge."
He took her standing beside the bed -- that is, he was standing; she was on her back clutching her knees, as directed. It was hard, fast, pounding, thoroughly satisfying sex -- for both of them. When it was over, he told her, "Don't dress. I'll be right back."
Thundering downstairs into the darkness, he called, "Alyssa!"
"Yes?" Teela had finished with her soon after Rick and Sonya finished. Rick and Sonya were still collapsed on their mattress, but the meaty smacks of Randy plowing Trish -- and her moans of pleasure -- could still be heard. Alyssa was watching her brother put the meat to her girlfriend.
"Are you done?" Damian yelled, unable to see in the dark.
"Yes."
"Come here, then." Alyssa came forward and appeared out of the darkness. "Get naked." He waited while Alyssa got out of her clothing. "Follow me."
Upstairs, he led her to Candace's room -- and Candace, which surprised both women. "What's this?" Candace asked.
"I figured you two should meet," Damian declared. "Alyssa, this is Candace. You two have a lot in common. Candace, Alyssa has one advantage over you -- what do you figure that is?"
"Well, age, I imagine..." Candace guessed.
"Right. A bunch of the guys have already stumbled on the fact that they can't take somebody's mother on dates," Damian agreed. "Now, Alyssa, Candace has an advantage over YOU -- guess what it is?"
Alyssa shrugged, confused. "She's white?"
"Nope," Damian replied. "It's age again. Candace doesn't hear wedding bells when I stick my dick in her." He watched while the comment hit home in Alyssa. "You two have a lot in common -- basically, you're both mine. One reason is that both of you like to be told what to do -- and neither of you likes to admit it. Both of you need control -- and I like doing that kind of thing."
"So, why are you rubbing our noses in it?" Candace asked.
"Because you both fucked up one way or another today," Damian replied blandly. "Alyssa, you might have made things easier for the guys downstairs, but you're ahead of yourself if you think you've got me bagged. And you," he turned to Candace, "You're doing better, but like I told you, I am the one who says you've gone too far! You two need to get acquainted and neither of you likes eating pussy, sooo..." He smiled evilly. "Up on the bed! Alyssa, you're on top -- because Candace is kind of juicy right now. It's my juice, though, so you make sure you get it all..."
"Awwww!" Alyssa wailed, but...
SMACK! "Now, bitch!" Damian grated, after leaving a handprint on her ass.
"Come on, Hon -- you're playing into his hands when you piss him off," Candace sighed. "You don't want him going all extreme on you..." She settled back on the bed. Alyssa was already moving, which didn't surprise Damian; she'd already demonstrated that she had virtually no tolerance for pain.
'Damn him!' Candace thought as Alyssa crawled atop her and settled her bubble butt toward her face, 'He always finds a way...' It didn't keep her from extending her tongue and opening Alyssa's slit with it, though.
"When you two are done, I'm gonna pick one of you to fuck, so you want to do a good job," Damian admonished, settling onto Candace's vanity stool to watch.
Downstairs, Randy was finishing up in Trish. He was pretty amazed, both with her and with himself; she'd pissed him off some, so he'd gotten pretty aggressive with her -- and she was eating it up! Usually, thus far in his limited experience, Randy had taken things easy, been gentle; this time, he'd poured it on because she'd acted like he wasn't good enough for her -- and she was OBVIOUSLY having a ball! Trish moaned and groaned a lot, but when she came, she threw her head around and bounced her plump ass up off the mat and got VERY impassioned about the noises she made!
She had a nice pussy, too -- and Randy was about to fill it with jizz! "Gonna cum..." he grunted.
"Uuhhh, kay... Oooooohhh!" Trish babbled.
Randy let go and Trish discovered why she had so many brothers and sisters -- the feel of Randy's semen splattering against her cervix set her off for the third time! "OoooOOOOOOOH! OMIGAAAAAWDD!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs!
Randy ground himself against her crotch like he was trying to get inside, growling with the effort, while he painted her insides as if he hadn't already cum in Sonya's mouth! "DAMN!" he gasped, when it was over and he rocked back on his heels.
Trish just lay there, looking up at him. Randy had thoroughly rocked her world -- AFTER she'd let him know that she thought he was less than desirable. She would be VERY CAREFUL about such things in the future... In the meantime, she needed to make amends... She reached up and gathered his hands, pulling him toward her.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Randy asked, obviously still irritated.
"I was wrong..." Trish husked.
"It really doesn't matter. I won't be the last guy in this group that you fuck -- probably not the worst looking, either!" Randy grated.
"Look, Randy, I'm REALLY sorry!" Trish apologized.
"Yeah, well..." Randy wasn't buying. "We'll see when you've been around a while -- but you need to remember that you don't pick who you fuck -- we do!"
"I understand."
Toby roused himself. Damian was better at this, but the girls might recognize him. He came forward, into the dim light. "That applies to both of you. We tell you who to fuck, and when -- and how. Why don't you two go back to the couch?"
Randy helped Trish up, and Rick did the same for Sonya. When the pair were seated, Toby resumed, "You know, of course, that if you get stupid and go to the cops or something, you'll end up screwed over worse than us, right? Right now, you know nothing and nobody except your friend Alyssa and her brother -- but we have those videos of you with the dog..." Toby laid it on thick, adding an under layer of dread of the consequences. He realized the he probably didn't need to do it, but they couldn't watch the girls every hour of the day...
"How often will we have to do stuff like this?" Trish asked.
Toby shrugged. "It's more or less on call," he replied. "If you discover that you like to have it more than you're getting it, I'm sure that if you tell someone, we can make arrangements..." he teased.
Trish turned an amazing shade; Toby felt the echo of her emotion. She wouldn't be a problem. Sonya's reaction was more within the expected range; this had been good and she would do as she was told, but she wasn't sure that she was to be asking for it. "How will we know when you want us?" she asked.
"For now, Alyssa or her brother will probably let you know," Toby advised. "Later, you'll get to know other members. Maybe we'll do some secret password or something, at some point. Any other questions?" Nobody said anything, but he sensed something. "Sonya?"
Sonya's response shocked them all -- she blurted, "Can Mom play?"
"What?" Teela gasped.
"My mom."She's always telling me how bad boys are -- but it's mostly because she doesn't get any. If you guys, you know, have anybody interested in older chicks..." Sonya's voice trailed off.
Trish giggled. "My mom could use a steady supply, too! It would keep her from falling for bad apples. I have enough brothers and sisters..."
"Well, we could talk about it, if you're serious," Toby mused. Sonya was for sure...
"That would be cool," Sonya replied. "Then she wouldn't be on my back when she finds out about this."
"Well, hopefully, she won't," Toby replied, "but we can take out insurance. Of course, we'll want to get something on her to keep her quiet, but we have things a lot easier to do than dogs..." He grinned.
"Now what?" Trish asked.
"Well, we planned for you to hang out here for a while, actually," Toby replied. "The place really DOES have a pool, but we're kind of concerned that you might do something stupid, so we don't want to show you any faces... Better wait until Alyssa comes back and she and Randy can take you out. In the meantime..." He slid down his trunks, "We can continue your education..."
"Ohmigawd!" Trish gasped.
Toby leaned over and whispered to Teela, "Tell Lon to pull on a mask and get down here. I don't know where Damian is, exactly, but he's messing with Alyssa and Candace..."
"Right." Teela headed for the stairs.
"Sonya has a system," Toby told Trish, "and you don't -- so you get to practice." He brandished his cock and pulled her over to it, "Give it a suck."
Arguing wasn't allowed; Trish opened her mouth and found it stuffed with cock meat. "Listen to what I tell you and do it," Toby advised. For the next several minutes he worked her on two levels, verbally and by direct mental contact, teaching her what worked well with him and what didn't, and damping her gag reflex so she could take him in more deeply as time went on. Trish didn't realize a lot of what he was doing -- all she knew was that things went very well... When Toby hunched up and buried his stiff length of meat in her throat a couple of times, then grunted, "I'm coming!" semen had become an acquired taste, too!
Sonya just watched for a while, but when a tall, blond boy came in, dropped his swim trunks, and ordered, "Suck!" she acquired a distraction. Lon learned that she had the right attitude; she attacked his cock with fervor, and the fact that she didn't deep-throat it was overridden by her technique. In no time, he found himself grunting and gasping as her lips and tongue worked him over to the tune of her stroking hand on his shaft.
When the pair of them were done, Toby informed Lon, "We've been swapping off..."
"Oh, okay," Lon replied, eyeing Trish. "Has she had her ass done yet?" He enjoyed Trish's look of shock and fear for a moment, grinning evilly, then muttered, "Some other time, then. Go wherever you've been going to get fucked..."
The ensuing sex wasn't as good for the girls as the first pass for several reasons, not the least of which was soreness from Round One.. Lon was being deliberately harsh and unfeeling as an object lesson to Trish, and Sonya -- well, nothing was going to prepare a five foot two girl for her first cock over eight inches. Toby helped some, but, like Lon, he felt that it was best that the pair get used to rough treatment, so he limited things. Both boys took their partners doggie-style, largely in order to reinforce their role as cum buckets; Lon rode Trish hard, occasionally burying his fingers in her mildly afro-teased hair and pulling her head back -- but Trish got off anyway, once, and would have made it to two if Lon had worked with her at all. The rough treatment thing accomplished Lon's ends, but it resonated with Trish, anyway, exciting her.
Sonya tried hard but her cervix took a bashing, and that was a distraction. Still, Toby monitored her and let up some as she approached her only peak of the session, ensuring that she got there. Like Lon, though, he didn't really give any breaks.
When it was over, Lon spurned Trish to the mat and got up as if he did this kind of thing daily and women were just receptacles; Toby was gentler, but he had a commentary, "You two are going to fuck a lot of guys -- and most of them are going to be looking for THEIR satisfaction, not yours! Get used to it. If you want to enjoy yourself, I suggest that you pick out a guy and try to make his short list. Trish, you may have fucked that up already..."
Trish was thinking the same thing. The white boy had been good, but not like Randy -- and she'd pissed him off! How much groveling would she have to do to fix things?
Toby turned to Teela. "I'm gonna go see what you know who is up to, and try to get Alyssa back down here. The girls are no doubt sore -- Randy, would you and Alyssa let them have their swim? No suits, though -- they go naked. Trish's doesn't fit, anyway."
"You got it." Randy nodded. Toby and Lon headed upstairs.
Damian's women were still in a sixty-nine position, but Damian was pounding into Alyssa from behind, and for that reason, she had been relieved of any requirement to further satisfy Candace. Candace was pinned beneath the pair, though, so she entertained herself by taking desultory licks at the fast-moving junction of the couple above her -- not because she wanted to, exactly, but more out of a suspicion that if she didn't, Damian would comment on it.
Damian had waited until each of them had teased an orgasm out of the other with her tongue and fingers, but no longer than that; watching Alyssa's asshole wink at him as her pussy clenched in time to the waves of her orgasm ended his patience and he crawled up behind her and slid his cock into her still spasming tunnel. Now, he was long-stroking her, driving her shoulders into Candace's upraised knees -- and she wasn't complaining a bit!
Toby and Lon appeared in the doorway. "Servicing your harem?" Toby asked sardonically.
"Do the math," Damian gasped. "You got to... keep... at least... two. These two... are... mine..."
Toby nodded. "Damned if he doesn't have a point..."
Lon nodded, musing. "Now that you mention it..." Concentrating on Sally wasn't doing the group justice -- there were too many pussies and not enough dicks to go around. Problem was, who should he take on? Beth? He had a soft spot for her, but he had enough to do dealing with Sally's submissive nature. Jean had two possible claimants already, and they really didn't get along. Louise? Adele? They were both black, which would make him look pretty two-faced. Still, Adele was a possibility... Maybe he should get another young chick to keep Sally on her toes...
Alyssa went "Uh! Uh! UUUUUHHHHH!!!" and tightened up remarkably, her cunt pulsing as her orgasm overtook her -- and Damian found an opportunity to get his in and smashed into her a half-dozen times, then buried himself in her jetting spunk into her quaking quim. Panting, he draped himself over Alyssa's back and asked, "What do you guys need?"
"A couple of things," Toby replied. "We need Alyssa to baby-sit the girls in the pool, and we need to discuss another membership application."
"Holy fuck!" Damian groaned. "I've only got so much dick..."
"Yeah, no shit," Lon grunted. Who'd have thought that organizing a little sex club could get so complicated?
"Yeah, well," Toby grinned. "Sonya seems to think that her life would be easier if her mother was getting a few inches occasionally. It seems that her mother is the one driving her toward lesbianism."
Lon looked at Toby. He hadn't been there the whole time, but he'd have been surprised if the discussion went that deep...
Damian, on the other hand, had a pretty good idea of Toby's source of information. He backed out of Alyssa and lowered his cock to Candace's mouth, just looking at her significantly. Candace, beyond her resistive mode, obediently began to lick and suckle. "Any idea what she looks like?"
Toby flicked a glance at Lon and said, "No, no pictures or anything, but I'm betting that she won't be our poster child."
Damian grunted, looking down at Candace. "You getting this?" Candace nodded. "I think it's for you older gals to investigate. If she's right and Mama Ho wants to join, we'll have to scare her up some dick and take photos." He glanced at the other two males, "Hank, I'm thinking." He got nods. Candace had gotten the worst of the mess, so he backed off the bed. "Clean her up, too -- she did it for you." He swatted Alyssa on the ass. "Suck pussy until Candace says you're clean, then go down and collect your girlfriends and take 'em for a swim, Slut."
"Yes, Damian!" Alyssa panted.
"You're all skinny-dipping -- got it?" Toby added.
"Yes, Toby!"
Candace, looking resigned, got to work; the three males left the room, headed for the kitchen and refreshments. "Man, I hate these masks," Lon groused.
Toby shrugged. "If you want to take my word for it that they'll behave, take yours off," he replied blandly.
Lon thought about it, grimaced, and left the mask on. Toby glanced at Damian, who WOULD have taken his word for it, and shook his head. "Can't trust 'em?" Damian asked.
"Well, they'd be SURE to recognize you..." Toby replied. "I think they're good to go, but..." Damian nodded. The three of them collected sodas and headed out back, to be joined by Rick and, eventually, Randy, when the girls trooped out to swim.Damian was subjected to an examination that resembled radar mapping, as he was the only male present who hadn't had sex with the new girls, but Damian gave them very little to work with by facing away from the pool.
"We're gonna need somebody tomorrow to give Pa a blowjob," he announced.
Toby blinked. "Well, there's the obvious choice..."
"Adele will shit a brick!" Damian grunted.
"So let her supervise!" Lon grunted. "I mean, it's pretty clear we're not gonna be able to stop Brie... Adele does know that, right?"
"Yeah... We couldn't tell her who it is, though -- she doesn't like Pa," Damian commented. "Brie would kind of get a kick out of it, I bet."
Randy chuckled. "No bet!"
"Want to try to rig it up?" Damian asked Randy.
"Sure. I'll try to keep it low profile. What if it doesn't fly?" Randy asked.
"Call me," Damian replied. "We'll come up with something. I'd rather it wasn't Candace..." He glanced at Lon.
"Me, too," Lon agreed. Damian nodded; Sally was out, obviously. Frankly, he didn't want Alyssa doing Pa, either. No doubt Teela was out, too...
Damian was rolling down his list of suspects, and had the same people scratched -- plus his mother, for obvious reasons. "Beth? Jean? One of these two?"
"Jean would be a problem. On the other hand, Ma probably wouldn't," Toby guessed. "I'll need some warning, though. If we have to, we can call up one of these two -- but it'll be tough getting them out of their houses on no notice. Let us know if it doesn't fly, Rain Man."
"You got it."
"How many more guys are there?" Trish asked, eyeing Damian.
"I don't know," Alyssa admitted. "Two or three, anyway."
"I'm surprised he didn't fuck us -- everyone else did..." Sonya muttered.
"He was too busy fucking me!" Alyssa grinned in spite of herself.
"Oho!" Trish laughed. "So THAT'S it!"
"Well," Alyssa blushed, "He made it very clear that I'm not in control, but when I'm good, he's good to me..."
"Do you know who he is?" Trish asked.
"Yes, but I can't tell you," Alyssa shrugged. "You understand..."
"Aren't we your friends?" Sonya snapped.
"Okay, you DON'T understand!" Alyssa shot back. "There are two things here: First, I don't want him pissed at me..." She frowned. "Maybe that's the underside of both. The FIRST reason I don't want him pissed at me is that I WANT to be his girlfriend. But the SECOND reason... Look, he can be... very controlling. I've pissed him off, and, well, I've paid for it."
"Oh?" Trish eyed her.
Alyssa thought about it. "Maybe you should know..." She glanced toward the boys at the table. "They took me sort of like they took you -- only they felt that I needed punishing. They hung me off a hook down there and beat me with a... stick, maybe. It was hard, but flexible -- and it stung like Hell!"
"He did it?"
"There was more than one of them," Alyssa murmured. "The dark-haired guy? The one trying to keep his glasses on with the mask?"
"The one with the really big dick?" Sonya asked.
"Yeah. He was there, and there was an older woman. There are several older women in the group," Alyssa explained. "But that guy ran things -- he was in charge." She eyed Sonya. "Watch the dark-haired guy. He has this radar -- it's almost like he reads minds, or something."
Sonya nodded, remembering the dark-haired girl's question -- and how the guy changed things up before she'd even made up her mind what to say. "That isn't all," Alyssa added, "Don't think I just tossed you to the wolves -- I was going to warn you, but they stopped me -- and they proved that they could do what they said they could when they did it! They actually sent a video to my cell phone..."
"No way!" Trish gasped.
"Way," Alyssa confirmed. "Then they made it real clear what would happen if I leaked things to you guys. Think about it -- anything they've done to me is my word against theirs -- but THEY have videos..." She sighed. "It's the same thing with you guys -- you could finger them for something, maybe -- but what would it look like? 'Oh, they did awful stuff to me, blah, blah...' And then the videos would surface and bye bye credibility..."
"Yeah." Trish had been thinking the same thing. "They only beat you the once?"
"Yeah -- but they don't have to do that... When they caught me, he... came up with this... game..." Alyssa mused for a moment. "Have you ever had anything up your ass?"
"What?" Trish gasped. Sonya looked equally shocked. "The, umm, tall blonde guy said something..."
"He wasn't kidding," Alyssa muttered, watching the boys. "The one who watches me came up with this game for three dice. One of the dice was to determine who did me, one was for how long -- and one was for whether I got it in the mouth, the pussy, or the ass..."
"Omigawd!" Trish's eyes bugged.
Alyssa nodded. "It went four or five rounds -- and they videoed it... That's plenty, really, if you think about it. Could you imagine me getting up and trying to tell people in court I wasn't a slut after that? Or at school?"
Sonya was staring at the boys. "So -- we're really slaves..."
"Well, they're busy -- you won't have one of them over your shoulder all the time -- but if one says jump, you'd better ask how high after you're in the air...""No." Damian flinched -- but at least he wouldn't be on the list of prospective fathers -- yet.
"Have Randy do it," Louise advised. "Get morning-after pills from Adele, if necessary. I hope to have us a doctor in a couple of days..."
"Okay, cool."
"Call me later." Louise hung up.
"Rain Man, ask the girls about birth control. Your mama has some of those morning-after pills, and Mama is looking to hook us up with a doctor, but we need to take care of today," Damian advised.
"Hey! You two! Come here!" Randy yelled, waving.
"Uh oh," Teela chuckled. "Let's go..." The girls slowly climbed out of the pool and headed over to the gathered males.
"Stop right there," Randy directed when they were still several feet behind Damian. He thought about things for a moment -- this control thing didn't come naturally to him, but the more ingrained it was early on, the better, he figured. "Kneel." The pair of girls glanced at one another. "Yeah, I know -- it's a pain in the ass and an ego trip -- but do you really have any choice?" Sonya knelt gracefully. Trish opened her mouth, remembered who she was talking to, and knelt, too. Randy got up and went over to fine-tune things. "Straighten out your feet and park your asses. Good. Now, spread your knees some -- I may want to feel you up." He eyed the result. "Hands on your thighs. Comfy? Keep your backs straight -- we wanna see those hooters of yours standing out, not looking saggy..." He nodded to himself, satisfied with the result. "Okay. If you're not doing anything else, that's how you should be, understand?"
"Yes, Randy," the pair intoned.
"Good." Randy opened his mouth, but Damian held up his hand. "Alyssa, are you still standing?" Damian asked, without looking around.
"Yes, Sir."
"Get down with them."
"Yes, Sir." Alyssa moved quickly, kneeling alongside Sonya on her right. Several sets of eyes flicked to Rick.
The girls could see Rick, but couldn't see Teela, who was now behind them. Rick pondered his options, visibly. Teela's eyes were wicked, laughing, challenging him. "Girl."
"Yes, Lover?" Teela replied.
"We're trying to enforce some standards, here."
"Yes, Lover." Teela settled to her knees on Trish's left.
Randy got to the point. "Are you two on birth control?"
"I am... Sir," Trish replied.
"Oh, shit!" was Sonya's response.
"Relax, we have some morning-after pills to handle things right now," Randy assured her. "And we're working on a long-term solution." He turned to Trish. "It'd be smart of you to get very careful about keeping up your schedule. You're on the Pill, right?"
"Yes, Randy."
"Don't slip up -- playing games with pregnancy won't buy you anything but problems. We got one bun in the oven already -- and it's gonna be a real pain in the ass for the mother to explain away," Randy admonished.
"I'll be real careful," Trish assured him, her mother's example clear in her mind.
"Good." Randy waved at the pool. "Go on back and swim, or whatever."
At Carter's, Terence wandered out to the garage about noon, poring over some papers; Fred noticed, but he was busy watching baseball. About two o'clock, a car pulled into the drive, but no one came in; Fred assumed that it was Damian coming back from wherever. About two-thirty, Terence stuck his head in the door. "Pa, can I take the truck? I need to go to the lumber yard."
Fred blinked and glanced up at his eldest son. "Good fucking luck -- it's Saturday, Boy. Lumber yard closes at noon."
"Shit. Will the home improvement place have any good stuff?" Terence asked.
"Like what?"
"Four by four oak, or mahogany."
"Don't hold your breath," Fred advised. "Probably all they got is pine, and pressure treated. What'cha makin'?"
"Furniture."
Fred eyed his son. "Maybe you'll want to practice. Oak and mahogany cost a chunk of money."
"Maybe you're right," Terence agreed warily. He opened his mouth again, but Fred was already fishing in his pocket.
"Here," he said, tossing Terence the truck keys. "Don't burn all the fuckin' gas."
"Thanks, Pa." Terence left. Fred heard a brief conversation on the porch, tones of disappointment and acceptance -- and a woman's voice? Then they were gone, before he could lever himself out of the chair and go take a look.
Two hours later, the truck pulled back in. Fred, now paying more attention, heard faint voices coming from the garage, along with various thumps and bangs. He waited for a commercial to come on and headed out to satisfy his curiosity.
There WAS a woman there with Terence! A white bitch! Kind of chunky -- she looked familiar... "Who's this?" Fred announced himself.
Terence looked up warily from where he and the woman were looking at some drawings on the workbench. "This is Beth. You've met her -- that day we were moving furniture at her house..."
Suspicion flared in Fred. "Okay, so, what's she doin' here? You fucking her?"
Terence wasn't up to fancy footwork in such things; Fred would have caught him out if they'd been alone. But Beth was there to answer sarcastically, "Are you always this charming? I pity your wife -- women must fall for that kind of thing in droves..."
Fred rocked under the hit. "Yeah, well, you haven't answered my question..."
"We're working on some furniture, Pa. I wanted to do something custom and I asked Beth's opinion because she's seen that kind of stuff before." He looked disgusted. "Did you really have to come out with that?"
Fred chewed his cheek. "Last time I saw her she was in her bathrobe."
"And you asked about it and we TOLD you she does shift work!" Terence rasped. "She's a nurse -- she works with Mama -- okay?"
"Yeah, well, some weird shit went down..." Fred's voice trailed off.
Beth nearly let her head of steam get away from her, "If we WERE having sex, would it be any of your business?" Turning to Terence, she added, "Want to have sex, Sweetie? I'm sure we can find a flat spot around here somewhere..."
Fred backed down, "Alright, alright! I'm sorry, okay?"
"No, it's NOT okay!" Beth huffed. "If you're going to treat women like that, you should plan on sleeping with men!" She turned away, unable to contain herself after THAT jab.
Fred turned an odd hue. "Uh... Sorry. Y'all go on with whatever..." He backed out of there.
"Beth! Jeezus!" Terence gasped.
"Well, he deserved it!" But she was grinning.
"Maybe. What if he hits me up again?"
"Tell him we fuck all the time -- I don't care WHAT he thinks!" Beth declared. "Besides, if you do, he probably won't believe you."
"Well, what if he does? What if he wants to...?"
"Tell him he'd better be a lot nicer when he asks or he can forget it!" Beth huffed. "He's NEVER going to get laid if he keeps peeing in the pool!"
Fred knocked first the next time. "Louise wants to know if you want to stay to supper."
"That might be nice," Beth allowed. "Toby is off somewhere... If it isn't too much trouble, I'd love to!"
Fred glanced at what they were doing -- which looked like some kind of medieval torture device. "That's gonna be a bitch to lug around -- better find ways to take it apart."
"Yeah, we're working on that," Terence admitted, while shutting things down and moving the other two toward the door; Pa was curious enough...
At dinner, the women more or less isolated themselves by discussing medical and hospital issues; Fred took it for a while, then bolted his meal and got out of there before he could be bored comatose. Once he was gone, the three of them shifted to other subjects. "Does anyone know how things went today?" Beth asked.
"I spoke to Damian," Louise replied. "All seemed well, but he was going home with Randy and the girls in order to provide some backup in case things got out of hand."
Beth nodded and threw a thumb over her shoulder. "Is he always like he was today?" She related the incident in the garage.
Louise nodded. "Pretty much."
"Toby has this theory that he's covering his ass because he doesn't want anybody to get wind of the other thing," Terence explained.
Louise nodded. "Could be, but it's a pain -- and it's getting worse!"
Beth nodded. "He's being threatened -- and he knows that the tale is out there, so he doesn't know who might be looking at him and thinking, 'Yeah, he's queer, all right..."
"Shhhh!" Terence waved his hands. "Jeezus!"
Beth grinned. "Want to go home with me? That would REALLY freak him out!"
"Beth! Gawd!" Louise exploded, laughing.
His mother's reaction led Terence to say no -- something he regretted later, alone in bed... | 3 |
73,827 | The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse | 'Charmin' Harmon' Thornton swept his eyes over Donna Travers' mother and nodded to himself as he finished the introduction, "My name is Harmon Thornton -- your daughter Donna is dating my son Mac."
"Is there a problem?" Noreen asked. 'This isn't going to be one of those 'Your daughter isn't good enough...' conversations, is it?' she wondered.
"Oh, no!" Harmon declared, "I was impressed with young Donna the instant I laid eyes on her!" 'Something about the way she sucks cock and fucks doggie-style...' Harmon added to himself. "No, I was so impressed that I thought I should really meet her mother..."
"It's very late..." Noreen muttered.
"Yes, I know -- but the kids are out tonight and I was in the neighborhood... May I come in?" Harmon stepped forward and Noreen backed up automatically, given the proximity of Harmon's imposing presence.
Actually, Harmon had been out looking for some action in his usual haunts and the pickings had been thin -- but he'd had young Donna and her mother in his head since his encounter with Donna the previous Saturday. Donna, never believing that Harmon would actually appear at her house, had given her address and a description of her mother -- who was an only vaguely wear-dated version of Donna herself... Noreen, therefore, bypassed Harmon's normal selection criteria -- which she wouldn't have met upon a mere visual inspection. But Donna had a hot pussy -- which Harmon fully intended to feel wrapped around his cock at some point -- and that led to the assumption that her mother would, too...
"Donna is with Mac?" Noreen asked.
"And several other male and female friends, no doubt, but yes, I'm sure they're together," Harmon smoothed things. "Mac is quite taken with Donna. Is Mr. Travers at home?" This was pure misdirection; Harmon knew that Noreen wasn't married.
"There is no Mr. Travers," Noreen replied. "I'm not married."
"Divorced?"
"Uh, no..." This wasn't how Noreen preferred to discuss Donna's paternity, but they'd gotten there and she was stuck with it.
"I see," Harmon was all sympathy. "So the relationship that led to Donna's conception didn't work out, then..."
"No..." She'd been a Senior in high school, visiting her older sister at college -- and drunk at a frat party -- and the college boy had been smooth and practiced and said and did all of the right things, and his two buddies arrived after she was already naked and riding a cock... She never got ANYONE's name and when she turned up pregnant things went to Hell at home and she moved out. Life had been hard and lonely and Donna was the cornerstone of her existence; what she was going to do when her daughter spread her wings and left the nest, Noreen had no idea. Noreen didn't drink and she stayed away from men -- she had toys, but mostly she just avoided temptation and masturbated when things got too hard. When she hadn't followed up her mistake with three other children, her parents realized that they'd been too harsh and there had been a reconciliation -- and Noreen had done her best to turn it all off and continue to prove herself worthy...
"How sad," Harmon commiserated. Harmon was an accomplished womanizer -- largely because he'd never met a woman deep enough and sexy enough to hold him. They all seemed to have the same drives -- more money and protection-oriented than sexual. He could read Noreen's face readily -- and what he saw there was VERY interesting... He sensed fear -- but there was blood in the water, too. Noreen seldom got close to ANY man and NEVER approached anyone with Harmon's charisma, and although Harmon loomed over her, he didn't overtly threaten -- and her body, denied its needs for so long, did certain things on its own. She could smell him, for instance -- and that smell brought a low-grade arousal that made her nipples tent her blouse. "You're very impressive. Do you go braless regularly?"
"Wh--what?" Noreen's eyes popped. "You, uh, caught me changing clothes..."
"I was lucky, then," Harmon mused. "The resemblance to Donna is remarkable. May I?" He reached out and placed a hand on her waist, sliding it under her blouse to caress her midriff.
"I--I..." Harmon added a second hand on her midriff and Noreen stammered, "I don't think you..."
"Got this familiar with your daughter?" Harmon finished for her. "Well, you'd be surprised. You ARE aware that Donna and Mac are having sex, aren't you, Darlin'?"
"Wh--what?" Noreen gasped.
"When I first laid eyes on Donna, she was sucking Mac's cock, actually," Harmon delivered a second blow. "She was absolutely naked -- and beautiful, I might add... May I?" His hands rose along Noreen's ribcage, taking her blouse with them. Noreen clamped her hands to her sides, but that merely trapped the wrinkled fabric under her armpits -- and above her breasts. "Yes, hers are very similar -- VERY similar..." Noreen's breasts had given up a bit of territory to gravity, but not a lot -- if anything, the slight droop added something, making them clearly genuine. "Beautiful nipples..." Harmon collected a breast in his hand, caressing it. He began lowering his head and Noreen threw up her hands, still pinning the blouse under her arms -- but instead of going for a breast, Harmon lowered his lips to hers.
"Mmmm! Mmmm!" Noreen held her lips closed as her eyes popped at the invasion. She tried to push him away, but was limited by the way she was STILL tying up her blouse. Meanwhile, Harmon's other hand slipped under the elastic waistband of her culottes -- and bypassed the poor elastic of her raggedy panties in the process -- to rub her ass.
"I bet that's similar, too. Do you shave? Donna has a little bikini trim triangle..."
"Harmon!" Noreen croaked. She went after the hand on her breast with both hands, so Harmon let her have it -- and stand there holding his hand as he delved deep enough into the back of her panties to run a finger past her asshole to the bottom of her slit. He pulled the hand she was holding downward and she continued to clutch it -- which bent her at the waist and shoved her culottes and panties down a bit and granted Harmon's middle finger access to the very opening of her vagina! "Omigawd! Harmon!" It was IN THERE! Not far, but she couldn't figure out how to get it out... She started to raise up but Harmon's free hand slid forward to engage her breast again so she had to push it away. That bent her further and Harmon pressed outward with his arm and the elastic waistband of the culottes slid all the way to his wrist, baring her ass.
"Yeah, Donna's looks just like that. Feels pretty much the same, too..." Harmon chuckled. He pumped the finger into her depths -- which were getting wet -- and then bypassed the opening on the way down her split to her clitoris.
Noreen looked up, big-eyed. "You didn't f-feel it!"
Harmon chuckled. "Darlin' I generally get my way around a woman, you know? Mac stopped me before things went too far, but I was rubbing her pussy more or less just like this..." His fingers rubbed Noreen's suddenly stiff clitoris.
"I-- You-- We-- Donna..." Noreen didn't know where to start! She was confused and her body was betraying her and Harmon was telling her that Donna was easy and having sex with his son... She forgot about the hand on her breast and went reaching awkwardly for the one rubbing her clit. Finally, she gasped, "I don't do sex!"
"You're overdue, Darlin'," Harmon replied, tugging the nipple she'd let him get at. "You're WAY overdue. And if you're anything like Donna, you want it..." She had his wrist, so he let her tug on it and pull it to the side -- which defeated her culottes and panties totally, allowing them to puddle on the floor. Noreen let go to snatch at them -- and missed -- and Harmon slid three fingers up and down her now soaking slot.
"Please!" He had eight arms and they all seemed to be able to set her body on fire! Her mind was clouded -- she couldn't fight him! He kept saying things, and while she reeled from the blows to her psyche, he took more ground on her body! He said Donna was easy and Donna was fucking -- and by extension, SHE was easy... That resonated -- she knew that. But the things he said meant that Donna would soon be gone, and she would be alone and she would need... this...
"I'm doin' my best, Darlin'," Harmon muttered, deliberately misunderstanding her. He kissed the back of her neck and she whined; her hands couldn't seem to decide whether to push at the hand on her breast, manipulating her nipple, or to hold it in place. She staggered a bit on the clothing bunched at her ankles and ended up extricating a foot -- and spreading her stance, granting Harmon further access. Nothing stopped him -- and everything she did made things worse... or better, maybe...
The couch was right there, so Harmon settled on it, dragging Noreen with him.She ended up on his lap, on her back; Harmon leaned to one side so he could kiss her and bring a hand up from beneath her arm to fondle a breast while three fingers rode over her pubic bush to slide over her clit. She tried to lock his tongue out with her teeth, but he had control -- her body wanted him. A rush of pleasure enveloped her, rising from her clitoris, and her mouth opened and accepted his probe.
"Thank God I'm wearing dress slacks," Harmon thought, "We're gonna fuck right here..." Noreen had all but surrendered. He unzipped and unbuckled and pushed his slacks down with one hand while keeping her busy with the other and his lips. Noreen's hands got under his shirt at some point and that seemed to be it -- she was clutching and rubbing. He kicked free of everything below the waist but his socks and rolled up, lifting one of her legs so he could get between them.
The touch of Harmon's cock on her nether lips brought a burst of something resembling clarity. "Omigawd! We're gonna fuck!" But she couldn't stop him -- she would have had to fight herself as much as him and she didn't have it in her. Instead, she clutched him to her as he pressed himself home...
"Aaaaahhhh!" It was a chorus, mutual. Noreen had always been hot-blooded; it had literally been a choice between doing absolutely nothing and surrendering to her nature -- and she had chosen to put Donna first. Now, faced with no choice in the matter, there was going to be backlash...
"This chick is somebody's mother?" Harmon marveled. "This is the tightest fucking pussy I've had in YEARS!" It was INCREDIBLE! He COULDN'T pound her -- he had to fight pneumatic suction going both ways!
"OMIGOD! OMIGOD!" Noreen gasped.
"So... you... don't... do... sex..." Harmon puffed, pushing and pulling against the clutch of her clasping cunt.
"FUCK! FUCK!" Noreen's eyes rolled up and she convulsed. Harmon had to wait while she clamped down on him so tightly that he couldn't move -- but when she came back, she'd gone over totally to the Dark Side -- it was there in her eyes!
"More! More! Fuck me! Omigawd!" she howled.
She loosened up a little bit, too -- just enough and not too much -- and Harmon started getting a stroke on. Noreen was well worth the effort, Harmon mused -- she was hotter than a firecracker!
Harmon had a 'standard stroke' -- a kind of lazy poke that maximized pleasure for himself and was generally more than adequate for his partners -- but Noreen wouldn't allow him to use it! She put her feet on the couch cushions and threw her pussy up at him, driving him to pump faster and faster, rattling him and throwing him off his game -- but oddly, she didn't interfere with the pleasure deliveries. As a result, in what seemed to Harmon to be record time, he was fighting off orgasm. "Close..." he panted, hammering away like a teenager.
Noreen, wild-eyed, howled, "DO IT! GIVE ME BABIES!" She picked up her legs and pushed her ankles into him behind his thighs, literally trying to pull him in deeper!
Harmon couldn't escape -- and he didn't want to! Noreen's yell went straight to his hindbrain and turned loose the animal instincts there and he yelled wordlessly and poured a flood of semen just as deep into her as he could push his cock! Noreen screamed and threw another manic orgasm as she felt the powerful pulses paint her cervix white, clutching him to her and surging against him, trying mindlessly to merge with him.
It took a couple of minutes for either of them to come back to earth. Harmon was just AMAZED! He'd sampled the charms of dozens of women in his time -- his polished approach was the result of constant practice -- but Noreen had come out of left field with this incredible response curve -- he hadn't had a fuck like that in YEARS! Now she lay there, looking up at him, apparently waiting for something... Harmon had no idea what, either, so he said, "Couches are nice, Darlin', but I like beds better. Can we move to yours?"
Noreen, not trusting herself to speak, nodded and waited for him to climb off her. Was he a rapist? Huh! She would have one Hell of a time proving it after screaming for him to impregnate her at the top of her lungs! She gathered up her clothing and he gathered his, and she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
Once there, they just tossed their clothing on the floor and climbed on the bed and Harmon launched into his standard preparatory procedure for a second fuck -- but his usual urgency was lacking. Instead, he took his time, dragging out steps that usually took only a couple of minutes. Noreen absorbed all of his efforts with obvious enjoyment and played clumsily with his cock, but something was up -- she didn't speak.
Harmon, being a practiced womanizer, was religious about rubbers -- but when he got down to deliver a little cunnilingus to get Noreen ready for his second penetration, he ran straight into the creampie evidence of the fact that he'd failed to protect either of them. "Uh, Darlin'? About birth control..."
Noreen finally spoke. In a hollow voice, she related, "I don't use any. I haven't had sex with a man in, well, a very long time -- and I didn't expect to. In the past, avoiding it wasn't hard..." There were tears in her eyes. 'I've done it again!' she wailed internally.
"Good God, Darlin'! How long...?" Harmon had gathered this instinctively during the seduction, but Noreen was apparently telling him that she'd been doing without for a lot longer than he'd assumed...
"Years," Noreen croaked. "I needed to provide a home for Donna..." She covered her eyes. "Donna was a mistake -- well, that's not really how I generally put it. She was an unexpected, happy consequence of the night I lost my virginity. I was drunk and horny and three different guys had me..." She released a sob. "Now I've done it again..."
Harmon climbed back up to caress her cheek. "You needed it, Darlin'. You shouldn't have denied yourself like that!"
"I couldn't let Donna have a slut for a mother! My parents..." Noreen couldn't go on -- she collapsed into sobs.
Harmon found himself cuddling her and trying to soothe her pain. "It'll be all right..." Oddly, he had polished tools for everything but this...
"The genie is out of the bottle," Noreen sniffled. "Besides, it's over, anyway. Donna is having sex... At least she's on birth control, unlike her stupid mother!" After a minute, she shuddered and got a grip on herself. "How is it that you saw her...?"
"Naked?" Harmon finished. "I came home last Saturday night and she and Mac and another couple were having sex. I stayed out of sight until Mac left and then introduced myself..."
"Like you did to me?" Noreen asked, eyeing him.
"We didn't get that far," Harmon admitted. "Mac returned before it could happen -- besides, I intended to just, well, poke a hole in her defenses I could use later. Watching her suck and fuck Mac was a revelation -- she was HOT! And I don't generally hunt down her body type..."
"Or mine," Noreen eyed him. "Pretty lecherous of you, wasn't it?"
Harmon frowned. "Darlin', you need some background, I guess. Mac got his early experience crawling into bed with women I brought home. We have an agreement, sort of -- and Mac owes me. But he made it pretty clear that he doesn't owe me Donna," he added ruefully.
"So..."
"I asked Donna what her momma looked like," Harmon related. "I doubt seriously that she ever expected me to show up here, or she'd have warned you."
"What happens if...?"
"You turn up pregnant?" Harmon finished. "I'll pay for it -- one way or another."
"I couldn't ask..."
"You did it alone the first time, right? No need to do it again. In the meantime, the damage is done." He rolled atop her.
"Harmon? I'm... not some floozie... Well, I might be, now..."
"No, you're not," Harmon agreed. "But... Look, I admit to coming here looking for an easy piece -- and you were virtually defenseless, so I couldn't have passed it up if I tried. But that just points up the fact that you're NOT some floozie..."
"You've ruined me," Noreen breathed. "I had things under control..."
"I freed you," Harmon argued. "You should never have boxed yourself up like that -- you're too passionate."
"Well, in any case, you're right -- the damage is done..." Noreen released herself, the tension flowing out of her. "Let's do it again -- I might as well get my fill..."
"Your wish is my command, Darlin'!" Harmon positioned himself and pressed forward into Noreen's depths."I need to know that you're not just..."
Mark cocked his head. "Just what?"
"I don't know! Playing? Practicing your technique with the ugly girl you don't want bad enough to have sex with?" Janice's voice took on a bitter tone.
Mark got mad. "Where in the Hell did THAT come from?"
"I know how it is! My parents..."
Mark blinked, confused. "What about them?"
"They h-hate each other -- and it's ALL MY FAULT!"
"Really? Tell me about it..."
Janice blurted the whole sordid tale -- how Janice's father Tom used his mother for some quick fun and how Janice's father used his political power to force Tom to marry her when she turned up pregnant -- and how it turned her home into an armed camp.
"God! That's TERRIBLE!" Mark gasped at the end of it. Looking at Janice, it was as if he could see how her childhood had twisted her and stunted her. "Janice, Honey, I'm not like that. I don't know if I can promise happily ever after, but I KNOW I'm not here to take advantage of you! Think about it -- don't you sit with me? Don't you go out with me? Doesn't everybody know you're with me?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Why would I do that if...?"
"Well why won't you, you know, do it?" Janice asked. "Is it because you don't want to get in too deep?"
Uncharacteristically, Mark grinned. "How deep is too deep? This deep?" He measured off a couple of inches between his thumb and forefinger. "I can probably only go this deep..." He put up his hands for an approximate measurement of the length of his erection.
Janice goggled. "What?"
"I was trying to make a joke!" Mark apologized.
"Oh." Janice switched tracks and pondered for a minute, then broke into a smile. "I think whatever you can manage will be fine..."
"Janice, Honey, I have been slow because I respect you and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage..."
"Well, I know that now, I guess," Janice muttered.
"What WOULD your folks say?" Mark pressed.
"Well..." Janice looked bothered. "Momma would be glad for me, except..."
"Except what?"
"Momma SWEARS that if Daddy finds out, he'll do it to me, too -- and keep doing it. I might even replace Momma as his last resort..."
"Jeezus!" Mark gasped. "He would have sex with you?"
"Momma says if he catches me, it will be some kind of betrayal, and he'll do it to get even. He'll use me because I'm taking advantage of him the way Momma did -- or at least, that's how HE sees it..."
"I don't see how we can do it," Mark mused. "I can't expose you to that!"
"Just the fact that we're together may be enough," Janice theorized. "If I get too happy..." She shrugged. "That's why I would rather do it with you. I want to know how it is supposed to be before Daddy does anything..."
That made a twisted kind of sense, Mark realized. Who could he take this to? "Have you talked to anybody about this?"
"Well..." Janice looked evasive.
"Honey, I want to help..."
Janice pursed her lips. "Wait here." She kissed him and went out. Amy and Toby took some locating, but she managed it -- they were outside, by the pool, necking, trying to get some time of their own. "I need help," she said simply. "Mark..."
Janice made the appeal to Amy, but Toby responded, "He's worried that he'll trigger something."
"Yes. I think it could happen, anyway," Janice replied. "Just feeling the way I do..."
"You can't talk to your father about this," Toby told her. "You're not allowed. It's more than just us telling you not to, too. Your mother is also protected."
"Well, that's good -- but is it good enough?" Janice asked.
"Let's go see Mark," Amy said quietly. "We can discuss things openly and then, well, cover them over -- but he'll understand." She got up and let Janice lead them to Mark in the guest room.
Mark wondered why he wasn't surprised. "Toby. Amy."
The pair linked hands. Toby said, "Things are ugly at Janice's..." and Amy projected the awful aura of hatred and resentment and distrust that lived there as a fourth occupant of the home.
Mark grimaced and shuddered, then blanched. "How did you DO that?"
"It's a long story," Toby replied. "You won't remember it when this conversation is over; I hate to say that, but it's how it has to be. Now, we're going to try to fix things -- but that will probably involve tearing Janice's home apart. Frankly, it should have happened long ago..." He paused. "Janice is going to need your support."
"She has it," Mark said seriously. "Squirrel is my girl." He tugged Janice to him.
"She needs... validation," Amy told Mark. "That's why she wants what she wants. She thinks she's too ugly and too stupid and -- well, you name it -- for anyone to love her."
"She's wrong," Mark declared.
"Janice," Toby turned to the thin girl. "Mark does not lie."
"Okay..." Janice's eyes blurred with tears. She knew that Toby did not lie, either.
"We have put some protections in place," Amy explained to Mark. "Janice is shielded from her father on the subject of her relationship with you. Where she fears him on other scores and it inhibits her, she has blocks in place to help her in dealing with this. Her mother is also capable of doing whatever is necessary to keep her daddy from finding out anything suspicious. Janice is concerned that her attitude might trigger something -- and maybe that is valid. If it looks like she is going to be in trouble, she will call you -- and you will call us." There was more to it -- if Janice couldn't reach Mark, she would bypass him and go straight to Toby. Toby made a note to visit Abigail in case Janice was unable to call... Both got spot-memorization of Toby and Amy's contact numbers.
"We're going to back out now," Toby told the couple. "We were never here." Linked, he and Amy enforced his words. "You had a long talk and Mark knows everything. Now you can move forward...." They backed out of the room and closed the door.
Toby stood outside the door with his head down. <This goes way beyond...>
<Does it?> Amy argued. <Or is this what we're here for?> Toby shook his head -- he didn't know.
----------------------------------
Inside the room, Mark picked Janice up as if she were a doll and placed her on the bed, then draped himself over her and began sucking her spiky nipples. "We can move forward, or we can wait," he told her, "You KNOW how I feel about you..."
Janice did, too. For the first time in her life, something positive was a certainty. "I want to move forward."
Mark ran his fingers over her cleft. "You're a little dry."
"I want to suck you."
"Let's do sixty-nine, then -- you on top." He rolled off her onto his back and she got up and draped her spindly form over his and sucked in his scrotum. "Uuuhhh! God, that feels so good..." Mark grunted, then pulled her narrow butt down so he could attack her split with his tongue.
He kept at it until Janice tried to scream in joy around his testicles, then let up. "Okay, you climb on now. Take your time -- don't hurt yourself."
Janice got up and turned around, then went to her knees, straddling Mark's thickly-muscled torso. Licking her lower lip, she reached for his thick tool and positioned it, then locked eyes with Mark and dropped onto him, impaling herself on his erection!
"Jeezus!" Mark gasped, his eyes bulging.
Janice's did, too! "Uuuuuhhh!"
"You didn't have to hurt yourself!" Mark gasped.
"I didn't want to go slow and have it not happen and have to try again..." Janice panted, clearly in pain.
Mark shook his head. Fear drove her to do the damnedest things..."Well, just wait until it feels better..." 'If I don't shrink to a nub!' he added to himself. He, too, had been hurt, and knowing she was hurting didn't help his erection.
But Janice was rocking back and forth, little by little, and as she did, Mark's cock moved deeper into her. After a minute or so, he was all the way in. Janice changed to a more forward and back motion that rubbed her clitoris on his shaft -- not because she knew what she was doing, exactly, but because by experiment she discovered that it felt good -- and slowly shifted from there to something with a vertical component. Leaning forward a bit, she laced her fingers in Mark's and leaned on her hands and began to pump, maintaining the drag of her clit along the upper surface of Mark's cock and cycling down and back and in and up and forward and out.
Initially, this got mixed reviews from Mark, but as she put more and more vertical into the stroke it began to work for him. The early tendency of his cock to go lank after the painful penetration went away and his cock solidified and swelled to its full length and girth -- which made things better and better for both of them. Pretty soon, Janice was shuttling right along and grunting and gasping and puffing and blowing -- and orgasm rose up out of nowhere and nearly knocked her out of the saddle! "OooooOOOOooooOOOMIGAAAAWWDD!!!" she wailed, and nearly fell off as her legs started twitching and her belly locked up to support the rolling pulses her orgasm triggered in her vagina.
"URRRGH!" Mark grabbed Janice's hips, pinned her to him, pulled her to him by one shoulder, and rolled them over as a system so he could take over. Janice found herself on her back with her knees up and Mark plowing her furrow rapidly. He reached under her and grabbed her shoulders from behind and sucked in a spiky nipple and rumbled like a bear while he pounded her, making sure she went nowhere -- not that she had any such intention! He was up just high enough to be rubbing her clit on every down-stroke and the intensity began to build again almost immediately!
Gentle lovemaking had turned into frantic fucking -- and neither of them cared!For Janice, the rollercoaster bottomed out, then rose, crested, and flashed into a screaming free-fall that caused her to scratch furrows in Mark's back, but he roared and exploded in her, unaffected, before collapsing on her and sucking her neck, panting, wondering, "Why does my back sting?" | 3 |
74,094 | Cindy - The Professor's Bane | 'Naughty, Naughty Professor Johnson.'
It was written in flowery handwriting on a pink envelope, which somehow seemed to be consistent with the bubbly girl who had just given it to him.
"Go ahead and open it up, silly!" The petite blonde sat across from his desk, giggling--her bare calves playfully swinging in front of her. Her flirty ponytail played along the back of her neck.
There was something strange about Cindy. It was unusual for any of his students not to be intimidated by him--his reputation was not what it used to be. He was notorious for being the professor you don't want to get. He couldn't help it; the University had really gone downhill.
Years ago, so far back he could hardly remember anymore, he harbored a genuine liking for his female students. They were so pretty and doe-eyed, and he even enjoyed teaching. When he started becoming intimate with them, however, his affection slowly degraded into carnal sexual desire, where he started down a spiral of deviance that culminated in his unfortunate relationship with Sarah Jennings. After he said "goodbye" to her ten years ago, he managed to break the chain, but the price was a growing vindictiveness in the classroom that had become almost legendary.
He would often subtly scold and demean the cute girls who braved an office visit while his mind flooded with deviant sexual fantasies in which the pretty girls took a leading part--submitting to his imaginary "discipline" for being such whiny brats.
With her ribbed t-shirt stretched around her slender torso, her sweet smile, and her sickening naivety, Cindy would fill that part in his mind nicely. He imagined her as a closet sex fiend with the impatience of a child, unable to keep her hands off herself. He had visions of cuffing her wrists overhead on a hook and whipping her bare bottom with cat-o-nine-tails for being such a horny little girl-slut. It was times like this that he really missed Sarah Jennings.
He shook the images off.
"Miss Kelly," he groused, regarding the envelope with only a cursory glance, "I really don't have time for games today. Is there anything academic I can help you with?"
Something about her twinkling smile and the troubling words on the envelope made him uneasy. Lord knows, he had some skeletons in his closet, but the idea of someone like Cindy digging them out was laughable. This must have been some kind of freshman joke, or maybe even a proposition.
"Nope! Nothing like that," she answered his question cheerily. "I really think you ought'a open up that envelope, though."
Johnson paused at her lack of deference to him, and looked at her suspiciously. He opened the envelope, and silently paged through the documents within--shocked. It was a collection of bank records that he immediately recognized as his own--an account that was completely independent of his University earnings. It was the one he'd used to store the money he'd managed to skim from his additional employer in the private sector. His mind reeled, but he tried to hide his swelling concern.
"What is this, Miss Kelly?"
"Oh, come on, Professor. You know what it is," she said coyly.
Johnson couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Where did? Where did you get this?"
"That's not really important, Professor. What's important is that if I give these papers to your boss, Mister Tyrney at Young Industries, he might start an investigation, and you know what? I'll bet you'll get in trouble." She giggled at him.Was this waif of a teenager actually blackmailing him? Who the fuck was this girl? Johnson's uneasiness turned to panic.
He did his best to feign a laugh. "Uhm. Miss Kelly, I think that--"
"Such a naughty old man," she ignored him. "Do you want to go to jail?"
Johnson's heart was racing. If Tyrney saw these records, he'd tell Karl Young about it and have Johnson's ass. This was a question of hundreds of thousands of dollars stolen from Young's pocket over the last 10 years, and he was a powerful and ruthless man, especially for those in whom he'd placed so much trust. In fact, Johnson would not only lose his retirement, he'd lose the rest of his life--wallowing in a jail cell, or worse, for who knows how long, and then having nothing to show for it when he came out on the other side.
"Miss Kelly--"
"It's not a hard question, is it Professor?"
Her sweet demeanor was despicable to him. Johnson's stomach was in knots. He wanted to slap her, but behind her cute eyes was deadly serious intent.
He shook his head, more in disbelief than as an answer to her question. "Cindy, I don't know what you think--"
"That's what I thought. Now, are you going to be a good boy?"
"What?"
"It'll be fun, I promise!"
"What do you mean? Please, just," he exhaled, trying to control his exasperation. "What do you want?"
"Lots of things, Professor!" Cindy bubbled as if she'd just been asked what she wanted for Christmas. "I'll tell you what. You're probably kinda surprised, huh? I'll meet you here at the end of the day, say 4 O'Clock? And you can tell me what you decide."
Johnson was stunned. "I don't understand. Decide what?"
"Whether or not you're going to go to jail, silly!" She reached her small hand across his desk and pushed on his shoulder.
He was shocked and in disbelief at her playful sincerity. Why was she doing this? He wanted to ask, but he could only manage, "Wh. . . Why--"
Her smile had dissolved just as easily as it had appeared. "Because, you deserve it."
She opened the door and flitted out of his office--her flowing skirt bouncing along the back of her knees.
Johnson was left alone. His eyes were blurry with panicked distress and furious anger. Maybe she just wanted money. His only copy of these documents had been locked in a cabinet at home. How did she get these? A realization struck him. He opened the drawer in his office desk that held the extra house keys he kept there. His suspicions were confirmed when he found them missing--who knows for how long.
"Fuck!"
- - - -
"So, Mister Johnson, are you going to play with me?"
Her sweet smile made him wince with disgust. Was she for fucking real? He tried to remain calm. "What do you want, Cindy?"
Ignoring any semblance of his authority, she walked around to his side of the desk. "Well, you're a little dog, aren't you, Professor?"
"What did you say!" The absolute nerve!
"A naughty, dirty little doggy." She spoke directly to his face--the strong grape scent of her bubble gum assaulting his nose. The way she provocatively said the words made his dick stir despite himself. He couldn't believe she was saying these things. What a fucking cock-tease, he thought.
"Here." She said as she tossed another envelope onto his desk. "Open it."
When he opened the envelope he was in for his second demoralizing shock of the day. Inside were a number of pictures of his younger self, fucking his students at home. They were grainy, but clear enough that he could recognize himself and the girls. He paused at a picture of him with his dick buried in some strawberry blonde whose name he couldn't remember. His cocky face stared into the camera as if he was giving himself a thumbs up. He was humiliated and his anger stirred anew. She must have found the videotapes in his house. He imagined this little brat rifling through his things and suddenly felt completely exposed.
"I like that one, Professor." Her little finger pointed to his naked body.
"My God."
"See, I told you--a little doggy." She giggled and skipped back to the chair opposite his desk. "Tell me what you are, Professor."
Johnson looked at her. He would not submit to this cocky, insignificant bitch. "Fuck you, Cindy."
"Oh. So you've decided then!" Cindy made no hesitation in grabbing her cell phone from a pocket in her skirt. He wanted to rip it out of her hand and smash it against the wall. He wanted to lunge across the desk and smack her face, but she was so small. He knew he would be carted away for assault.
"Stop. Wait. I'm sorry. Cindy!"
She held the phone to her ear with her eyes on his, waiting for the response she wanted to hear. "Yes, may I speak with Mister Ronald Tyrney please?" she said. "I have some information for him. Thank you." Her eyes didn't leave Johnson's. She wasn't bluffing. She covered the phone mic and giggled, "You know what? I hear Ronald's kind of a perv, I wonder if he'd like some of those videotapes of yours too."
"I'm a... I'm a naughty doggy." This was unreal.
Cindy punched the keypad to end the call. "Good! That wasn't so hard was it?" She put her phone back in her pocket. "You know what naughty doggies do, don't you, Professor?"
Johnson sat silently, seething at her.
"They get down on their hands and knees."
"What is this game you're playing, Cindy? You're making a mistake." Johnson was desperate to talk his way out of this ridiculous situation.
"No, no mistake. Down on your knees, right here." She pointed to the floor just below her swinging legs. "Just like a doggy!"
Johnson rose out of his chair. He felt like he was out of his body, taking demeaning orders from a bratty 19-year-old she-devil. He wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to grab her pony tail by the fist, pull her roughly over his knee, yank her skirt down to her knees and spank her bare bottom like the disobedient child she was.
He certainly hadn't expected this. What was he going to do? "Cindy, please, this isn't really necessary."
"Sh Sh," she wagged her finger at him. "Doggies don't talk, Professor."
His breath shortened in his tight chest. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. He lowered himself onto his knees, and then on all fours in his own office. Even in his subservient position, he couldn't help but notice how gorgeous she was, in a very petite kind of way. She was certainly thinner and less busty than he usually went for, but those bare, slender calves underneath that skirt would have been almost irresistible under better circumstances--even at his age.
"That's better! See now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Her perky breasts shook slightly underneath her stretched t-shirt as she adjusted herself in her chair. This dainty doll of a girl who he could practically throw across the room had him just where he would have wanted her.
"Now stick your tongue out and pant for me," her tone was serious.
Was she insane? "Pant?"
"One more word out of you, you naughty old man, and I'm gonna go call your perv friend, Ronald. Now pant for me little doggy," Cindy chided. "Come on, be a good boy." She wagged her sparsely freckled calves in front of his face.
Johnson could feel his erection betraying him despite his anger and humiliation. In fact, his hard on only fueled his anger further. He simply didn't know what else to do. He opened his mouth, stuck his tongue out and started to pant like a dog. He could feel the cold air drying his tongue, and his forehead slowly saturated with sweat.
"Good, good. Pant for me." She giggled at him from her seat, rubbing one of her silky calves against his nose. He could smell her lotion. "You're so cute!"
Johnson pulled his tongue back in and started to say something.
"Don't you speak!" she raised her impatient voice for the first time. His cock throbbed without regard for the sickness in his stomach as he caught a glimpse of the white panties underneath her skirt. "I'll do the talking! Now, pant."
Johnson stuck his tongue out again.
Cindy grabbed one of the photos off his desk. "Did you fuck her, little doggy?" She held the photo in front of his face. It was a picture of some blonde bimbo he'd fucked countless years ago. He couldn't remember her name. She had big tits and was on her knees, busily licking his balls.
"Do you like her?" Cindy was teasing him as she indicated that he should nod.
He simply nodded. He had no choice.
"Do you like her? Yeah? Do you? Go get her!" Cindy tossed the photo toward the corner of his office. I floated over and landed underneath a metal framed, green vinyl chair.
"Go ahead, doggy, fetch."
Johnson didn't move. No fucking way, he thought.
"Come on now." She stood up and then bent over beside him. He saw her ass sticking out under her skirt. Her thin fingers reached between his legs behind him. She grabbed his hard cock over his suit pants, and squeezed his balls and the bottom of his pole as if they were throttle controls.
"Yay! You do like her." Her reaction was exceptionally giddy, almost as if it was a relief. She wanted him to be hard. "Go ahead, now. Fetch!" She tightened her grip on his scrotum until he felt a little pain.
"No. No!" He shifted his legs in an instinctive reaction to get her fucking hand off his balls--feeling like a horny, degraded animal being groped by a teenage veterinary assistant.
"Yes, come on." Cindy had no sympathy for his predicament. She simply walked along side him like a trainer, continuing to squeeze just hard enough and repeating her command, "Fetch, doggy, fetch."
Johnson finally got the debasing message and began crawling over to the corner. Cindy insistent fingers squeezed and pulled his ball sack the whole way--serving as a sick motivation for him to perform his trick.She giggled at him. "I thought you liked her. Pick it up with your teeth and bring it back."
Johnson couldn't believe she was capable of this, her hand still kneading his sensitive ball sack like a piece of dough.
"Good boy!" Cindy grabbed the photo from his mouth.
"Do you like me, too, Professor?" She seemed very anxious to confirm his cock's reactions to her. She knelt in front of him and brushed her tiny nose against his a few times like she was cuddling her puppy. "Do you?"
His dick became even harder. He nodded and panted, not daring to disobey her again.
"I thought so." Cindy stood up and stepped over to the ratty green sofa in the corner of his office.
"Naughty dogs like the young girls, don't they, Professor?" She lifted her smooth leg up so that her knee was on the seat of the couch beside the armrest, her white sneaker dangling over the edge. Her other leg, bare from the top of her short white sock to the middle of her thigh, wrapped around to the other side of the armrest. The edge of her flowing skirt dangled in thin folds around her skin. She bent over, causing her skirt to ride up the back of her creamy thighs just enough to reveal a small hint of her white panties covering the crack of her ass. She whipped her flowing ponytail around so that it dangled next to her shoulder, and she looked back at him.
"Did you fuck them like this, Professor?" she said with a confounding air of sexually charged innocence.
God, she was sexy, and yet he despised her. He couldn't help but nod once again. His eyes were fixated on her panties, straining to catch a glimpse of her girlish twat underneath. God, he wanted to take her. He couldn't help but entertain the idea that perhaps this was her sick way of coming on to him.
"Yeah, I saw it on your videos." The tight t-shirt encasing her perky breasts came to rest on the arm of the couch. Her panties, and her tight ass were clearly visible now, dangling off the edge. Her head lay sideways on the couch arm as her bright, blue eyes looked at him.
So she had gotten into his videos. It was mortifying to think that this 19-year-old knew more about his conquests than he did. He was captivated by her display, and disgusted by his arousal. He felt out of control.
"Yes, you're naughty, aren't you? A naughty doggy!" she scolded him a little too loudly, making him nervous that someone on the other side of the door might hear.
Johnson nodded. His cock was stubbornly pushing against the underwear underneath his loose suit pants.
"Aw. I guess you really don't want to go to jail, huh? Now, tonight you're going to come over to my dorm room, aren't you? Are you going to come to my dorm tonight, little doggy?"
Johnson winced at her mocking patronization. He didn't know what to expect anymore. How far was she going to take this?
"Good," she nodded briskly, not bothering to wait for his answer. "I'll see you there at seven--Bowie Hall, room 345. Don't be late, now." Cindy got up and started to gather her things.
Was that it? What the hell was she doing here? What was the point of all this?
"Wait."
"Bad doggy, bad, bad!" Cindy shouted again, dropping everything and stepping toward him. He cringed, actually feeling distressed at what she might do and nervous that people outside the office might hear. She knelt down and grabbed his gray hair, pulling it so that his face was forced to look at her. Her other hand reached under him, recklessly seized his dick and squeezed. He might have doubled over if it hadn't been for her grip on his hair. She leaned down so her strawberry lips were only inches from his.
"What's the matter, doggy? You wanna fuck?" she squeezed his cock and balls. The promise of masculine pain, just on the edge of her grip frightened him. He fought against the instinct to reach underneath and slap her groping hand away.
"Damn, Professor." Her voice almost seemed as if she couldn't believe his obstinate boner, which felt to him like it was the size of a greenhouse cucumber. Fuck her! She didn't deserve to make him feel like this.
"God, you're so pathetic," she said with a charged whisper. She kneaded him like he was nothing more than her cock-slave. "Well, if you want to fuck, come on over tonight and we'll see if you deserve it. Don't be late."
Dressed in the suit he wore previously, Johnson stepped out of his car in the dormitory parking lot. It was 7:02 pm, and he was late.
Sweat leaked from his forehead. His stomach was tight, and his breathing was laced with fearful butterflies. It was almost intoxicating. His hard-on was beginning to return even as he walked through the dorm's lobby and made his way for the stairs. He was confused by her intentions, especially by the last thing she'd said in his office. Somehow it made him extremely nervous.
The din in the dorm was typical of a party school. Rock music thumped throughout the hall, various doors were open and students milled through the littered hallway carrying on like drunk kids who had their parents' house to themselves for the weekend. It was typical for a Friday night. The occasional student wandering by gave him a strange look. Luckily the hallway outside Cindy's room was relatively quiet and empty. He took in the filthy excess of his surroundings and shuddered at what she might have in store for him.
Johnson paused in front of room 345. He realized at that moment that his hands shivered. He simply didn't know what to expect from the tiny bitch. He had hated his subservience earlier, and yet she turned him on. He nervously straightened his suit, wiping off some lint, and finally he started to raise his hand to knock when the door suddenly opened.
Cindy held the door open, looking up at her college professor. Her hair was pulled back tightly into another ponytail. He immediately noticed the bright sheen of the taut blonde hair above her forehead. She wore a pair of very short, blue shorts that exposed her toned upper thighs all the way down her slender calves to her sneakers. Johnson noted with some dread the words embroidered across her breasts on her tight-fitting, black T-shirt: "Boy Beater". Cindy took a lollipop out of her mouth and bounced up in a slight hop with a smile on her face.
"Professor!" She stretched her body upward and gave him a peck on the cheek, taking him by surprise. "You're a little late, Professor," she finally scolded with a smirk.
He was prepared to offer her money. "Cindy, now listen. I thought we might talk this over, and I think after you hear what I have to say--"
"Professor Johnson, I told you not to be late." Cindy was confoundedly cute, even as she scolded him. Johnson felt his hard-on returning despite his best efforts to control himself. "Why don't you get on your hands and knees," Cindy smiled, holding her lollipop dismissively to the side.
"What, here?" Johnson said, looking around the empty hallway. He was starting to become panicked. "Now, Cindy--"
"Come on, Professor. I thought you'd made up your mind. Do it."
Johnson was trapped. He didn't dare leave. He looked around and saw no one. The thumping of rock music blared distantly through the halls. Humiliated and vulnerable, he followed her orders.
"Good doggy! Do you want my sucker?" she dangled her glistening lollipop in front of his face.
Johnson was mortified, and worried that someone would see him like this. Still, somehow he wanted it. He shook his head no in defiance of his own instincts, but he wanted to taste her mouth on it.
"Fuck you, bitch." He said it to himself as much as to her. He needed to maintain some dignity.
"Just for that you'll have to beg for it. Can you beg for me, little doggy?" Cindy mocked him by raising her hands up like they were a dog's front paws, reaching to its owner. "Come on, get up on your knees and beg."
"Cindy, please. Don't."
"I've got a phone right in here, Professor."
He rose to his knees and lifted his hands to his shoulders, his fingers bent. He felt like a pathetic animal.
"Oh, you're so cute," she fawned. "Why don't you unzip your pants for me."
He couldn't believe it. "No, Cindy. Please."
She shot him a disappointed look. "But I thought you wanted to play with me. I guess you don't though. Bummer." She stepped backwards and silently closed the door in front of him.
Johnson watched the door close and instantly understood his predicament as if for the first time. His heart pounded. He looked up and down the hall. Could he actually do this? She was going to call Tyrney. "Jesus." He didn't know what to do. The bitch was actually going to call him!
Still on his knees, he lightly knocked on the door like a helpless child. "Cindy," he whispered desperately. "Cindy, please."
The door opened a crack, and Cindy peered out at him. "Did you take your dick out yet?"
Mortified, he slowly unzipped his pants. His cock was hard. He was utterly shame-ridden.
"Good." She opened the door the rest of the way and watched him. "Now jerk off," she whispered mercilessly. "Do you need a little help?" She reached for something behind the doorframe and grabbed what looked to be a photograph. "Here you go." She held it up to his face. It was a picture of him with a freckled, stick-legged redhead riding his cock.
"Now sit up on your knees and jerk off for me. Don't forget to pant."
Johnson nursed his dick, ignoring the picture and opting to stare at Cindy's slender body instead. God, it felt so good, and so horrible. Nervous sweat seeped from his forehead.
"Yay." She bounced silently as if immensely pleased with herself. "Good, keep jerking your cock, Professor, and pant like a horny dog before I scream and leave you out here alone."
"Shh, please, Cindy.He nervously checked the hallway. His hand massaged his dick while Cindy dismissively licked her sucker and watched him. Despite it all, he wanted to cum. His mind filled with thoughts of role reversal--of making this fucking cunt bark like a bitch while he porked her tiny, puckered anus. His fantasies were instinct, a defense mechanism. In a way, it was the only way his dignity could maintain a foothold.
"Fuck you," he whispered frantically, his eyes leering at her body as if he had no choice.
Her tongue lingered on her sucker as she smiled teasingly at his frustration.
"Okay, that's enough, doggy." Cindy's sneaker painfully kicked at his hand, jerking it away from his urgently unsatisfied rod. He expelled a breath, betraying his need, but resisted giving her the satisfaction of any complaint.
"Do you want it?" She dangled the cherry sucker in front of his face, holding it just out of reach. It was wet with the girl's spit. "Good boy! Come on," she motioned him inside by slapping her hand against her thigh, and then tossed the sucker on the carpet in her dorm room "Go get it!"
Anxious to get out of the hallway, Johnson quickly crawled in with his dick bobbing like a loose, steel appendage between his legs.
Johnson looked at the red lollipop sticking to the panty-littered carpet just below his head and wondered how things had come to this.
"Rule number one, when Professor Johnson is a bad boy, he'll get punished." Cindy's springy hair bounced as she glanced down at her shirt. "I'm a `Boy Beater'," she bit her bottom lip in a bashful smile and stretched her shirt off her perky tits to show him the words, "See?" She giggled, and then allowed her tight shirt to bounce back home.
He felt sick to his stomach.
"Rule number two, Professor Johnson does whatever I say. Sit up, Professor." Cindy grabbed a pair of her dirty panties off the floor and slipped his wrists through the leg holes. "Twist your wrists so they're tight."
Johnson moved his arms so that the panties twisted tightly around his wrists, binding them in front of him. He wanted to protest, but it seemed harmless. He could just twist out of them again. At least they were in relative privacy now. Cindy pushed him forward so that he landed on his elbows, the lollipop positioned below his face.
She pointed to the sucker. "Finish it, doggy. No teeth--only your tongue. You need to practice."
He looked at it, disgusted. "Cindy, please."
"Rule number three, Professor Johnson doesn't get to cum until I say." She walked behind him and knelt between his legs--pinning down the pants that were stretched around his calves.
"You'll like this game, Professor." Cindy produced another photograph. This one was of Sarah Jennings. She was sitting on his couch with her bare legs spread wide, her tits peaking over the top of her disheveled blouse and her hands cuffed in front of her. She was holding a bar glass with a fatigued look of surrender on her face. He remembered that night. The strange thrill made him forget where he was for an instant. His cock stiffened even more.
"This is so you don't make a mess on my floor, Professor." She slipped the photograph on the floor under his cock. He then heard some kind of slurping sound behind him, and then felt her wrap her lubed fingers around him.
"Oohhh." He couldn't help it. The feeling of the teenager's hand on his dick was amazing.
"If you break any of the rules, Professor, you go to jail, and I'm pretty sure jail won't feel like this." Her hand started stroking up and down on the thick meat below his belly. "Now, I'm just going to rub your dick with my hand until you lick all the candy off of that lollipop. Remember, no teeth, you naughty cheater."
Her hand felt so good. She would give him long strokes, and then she would squeeze the head, making it bob up and down as it reached out to meet her fingertips. Each time he came close to coming, she would stop. The panties binding his hands reminded him not to break the third rule by taking over the job himself. The lollipop seemed to grow bigger before his eyes.
Johnson's throat groaned in frustration as his fingers frantically clawed at the filthy carpet below him. He could smell Cindy's dried urine on the panties that were binding his hands together. His elbows were developing rug-burn. His mouth seemed full with strands of cherry flavored hair. He licked at the sucker desperately. His cock was a dangling bundle of desperate nerve-endings, gripped tightly in Cindy's slippery hand. God, it felt so good. If she would just... keep... going.
Cindy's hand released him.
"Fuck! Oh-oh-oh!" he shuddered. Johnson shifted his legs frantically, desperate for orgasm--his cum just barely on the precipice of squirting out of his cock--yet she would not allow him to release it. The insidious nature of her game had become clear.
"Lick your lollipop, Professor."
After giving his imminent orgasm a chance to recede, she started yet again. Her hand slowly milked his cock like a cow's tit. Precum oozed out of its hole. Some of it served as lube for her stroking, the rest of it pooled in wet drops onto the photograph of Sarah below his crotch.
Johnson had lost all sense of how long this had been going on.
Cindy was a master cock-teaser--sometimes just faintly rubbing the very tip of his cock with her soft fingertips for minutes at a time--causing him to cry out with need and squirm in an attempt to get away from her. Johnson had become a quivering mess.
"Lick it, doggy. You need your practice."
He lapped his tongue across the lint covered cherry candy as fast as he could. Cindy offered him words of encouragement.
"Is that good, doggy? You wanna lick my pussy like that, Professor?"
He did, but only to tease her like she was doing to him. He wanted to fuck into her and squirt cum all over her cute face---using her lithe body as a cock-milker until he was satisfied and the spoiled slut was left handcuffed with no way to bring herself off.
The fucking bitch's hand still kept kneading and rubbing his helplessly teased prick.
Finally, the last of the candy was gone.
"Yay, Professor! Now one more thing." She slid the precum-covered photo below his head. "Lick your goopy juice off of her."
Her fucking fingers kept flicking and rubbing the tip of his cock. He wanted to scream.
"Ooooooohhh. Fuck." His body shuddered, teetering on the edge, and she stopped.
"Come on, lick off your nasty cock-slime, doggy." Her order was harsh, and plain. He was insane with the need to cum. His tongue slid along the photo, gathering his salty precum into his taste buds. He wished it was anyone other than Sarah in the photograph.
"Good boy! Now, Professor, you were an awfully naughty boy getting here late, and for that I'm afraid you'll need to be punished," said Cindy, regretfully.
Punished? What the fuck! "Let me cum!" he finally pleaded out of pure instinct. "Please, I want to cum." He started to sit up so he could untwist his hands free.
"Ohhh, poor baby. No, no, no." She pushed insistently down on him, keeping him on all fours. "You have to do something first."
Her hand held his, and to him it felt like that of a spoiled child, yet this teenager was clearly more world-wise than her bubbly demeanor let on. Just feeling her youth through her hand as she led him like a four year old down the empty hall both intensified his attraction for her, and amplified the humiliation and frustration he was feeling. She opened the door to the communal women's bathroom and led him inside, locking the door behind her.
"Now Professor. I want you to shave. Not to worry, though, I bought you a razor and some shaving cream." She pulled them out of a grocery bag she carried from her room.
Johnson took the cream, wondering what punishment could be worse than what he had just been through. He started lathering up his face.
"No, no, no!" Cindy scolded, frowning.
Johnson was confused, "You said you wanted me to--"
"No, not your face, stupid. Wipe that off. Here," she handed him a towel.
He took the towel and wiped the shaving cream from his face.
"Now, take off your clothes."
"My clothes? No, I...." The mystery of his punishment was starting to come into focus.
"Yes, your pants, your shirt and your underwear. Come on, Mister Johnson." Cindy was starting to get agitated, "I haven't got all night."
Not wanting to test her again, Johnson resigned himself to following her orders.
"Very nice," grinned Cindy, mocking his somewhat imperfect body covered in gray hair. "Now go sit in the bathtub, you burly stud you!"
Johnson maneuvered himself into the tub, ringed with hard water stains. "Cindy, please. Stop."
"Now spread your legs for me. Come on, spread your legs," Cindy placed her small but insistent hands on his knees and pulled his legs apart--causing him to lose his balance and plop, butt first, into the bottom of the tub. She made him lift his legs over the edge so that they were spread wide, revealing his still hard member. "Oooh, are you turned on, Professor?" Cindy cooed at him, mockingly. "Do you have a hard on for me?"
Johnson hated her.
Even as she asked the ridiculous question, his dick seemed to grow larger. His eyes fixated on her super-tight, "Boy Beater" T-shirt. He needed to cum. He wanted to skull fuck her until her throat juice seeped into the letters covering her tits.
"Oh, how cute! You do have a boner for me, don't you?" She looked at him like a child who'd just gotten her ice cream. "Wow." Her bright eyes gave him a naughty glare.
"Well, if you're a good boy, maybe we'll take care of that later." She winked at him fearlessly.She seemed to have become even further empowered by his perpetual arousal around her. It was unsettling. Johnson wanted to leap out of his skin. His mind flooded with filthy images of revenge.
"But," Cindy handed the Professor the razor and shaving cream. "I want you to shave for me first."
Johnson reluctantly started squirting shaving cream over his pubic area. He still held out hope that this was all just some kind of sick game, maybe all she wanted was to fuck him on her own terms. It was a tantalizing thought, but he had to admit that it didn't make any sense. He still hadn't been able to think through what had prompted her to steal the keys out of his office in the first place.
"Why don't you do your legs too," Cindy smiled, turning on the water to the bathtub and handing him another towel.
"Christ," Johnson whispered, lathering up his hairy legs with shaving cream. His cursed dick was tight and stiff; he wanted to stuff her little pussy so badly he could smell it.
"Wow, you are a real horny-toad, aren't you?" She sat on the toilet, opposite the bathtub, watching him run the razor up his hairy leg. He was mortified.
"Oh my God, you're so nasty, Professor." She bit her lip. He could see her getting excited, and her eyes were locked on him. Her hand almost absent-mindedly crept down to her shorts and unsnapped them. "Come on, shave yourself nice and smooth for me."
His heart beat like a freight train. He was so anxious and excited, he almost nicked his leg with the razor.
"God. Look at you." Her hand snaked into her shorts and under her white panties. He saw the knuckles of her fingers working deliberately under the material. Johnson felt like nothing more than a demented aid to masturbation for her. Still, her arousal was contagious, even if it was at the expense of his dignity.
"Come on, now. Shave your balls, doggy."
He carefully stretched his cream-covered sack and scraped the razor around his testicles.
"Good boy." Cindy grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and lifted it up so that her perky nipples popped out from underneath it. She started rubbing one of them along with her cunt--pinching it and stretching it with her fingers. "You want to taste my titty, Professor?"
"Yes." He couldn't help but answer. The awkwardness of shaving underneath his iron cock was almost dangerous.
Her tiny nipple jutted out like a "fuck me" antenna. "Then shave your ass, too."
Johnson groaned in disgust.
She teased him until the entire lower half of his body was shorn smooth.
"Get on your hands and knees and come here."
He felt like a crawling animal--more naked than he'd ever felt before. His cock was throbbing. The skin of his balls itched. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He needed to fuck, and here was a beautiful teenager sitting on the toilet diddling herself. He had earned a good fuck after this wholly disgusting act.
"Stay right there. Don't move." She touched herself, seemingly feeding off of his desire for her. Her inviting breast teased him; her smooth legs were wide open and sticking to the toilet. He could feel the cool bathroom air breeze past his freshly shaved ass.
"Oh my God, you're so pathetic." Cindy was losing herself. Her blue eyes locked on his body. He felt so exposed.
"Sit up. Put your hands behind your back. Crawl over here on your knees and lick my nipple, doggy."
Johnson's dick bobbed. He wanted her. He wanted to take her power away. He moved toward her.
"You keep your grabby hands behind your back, Professor. If you touch me with anything other than your tongue, I swear to God I'll scream."
His shuffling knees bruised against the hard tile. The combination of her girl musk and the dirty stench of the bathroom invaded his nostrils. His tongue reached out and touched her hard nipple. It was heavenly, and yet he hated his desire for it.
"Good. Oh my God. Lap it like a dog, you horny freak." Cindy's words were increasingly urgent. She had transformed before his eyes. He could feel her small body jerking underneath his tongue, the toilet lid jiggled and slapped against the rim as her sticky skin rode the bowl.
Johnson licked at her tit, feeling it bend and wiggle with each flick of his tongue. It was so soft, so young. He hadn't tasted anything like this for so many years. His cock wanted to explode. Instead, Cindy did.
"Oh, fuck. Get me off, dog." Her small body quaked in orgasm. Her arm jerked frantically, her hand buried under her wet panties. He could smell the rising scent of her juices as his tongue grazed along her evasive nipple. "Oohh." She moaned, breathily.
"Okay, wait," she said, her chest rising and falling under his hungry tongue. Her hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked his tongue away from her breast, and threw his head away. "Wait." She recovered.
Johnson was desperately unsatisfied. Would this night ever end? He sat on his knees next to her. He felt so ignored--like nothing more than a used sex toy.
"I guess you deserve a reward after all, Professor," she said finally, her perky demeanor returning. She poked him in the nose with her little finger. "Let's go back to my room!"
"From now on Professor, I want your cock always lubed up and ready to go." Johnson looked at the small bottle with the attached chain Cindy had just tossed him. "Keep that bottle around your neck. Come on, just like this." She grabbed it from his hand and wrapped the chain over his head. "Well, go ahead, lube up your prick." Cindy had a particular way of emphasizing the naughty words, as if she was somehow deliberately defying authority when she said them.
Johnson extricated some lube from the bottle and timidly began rubbing his throbbing cock. After watching her orgasm, he desperately wanted one of his own. The feeling was revolting. The words on her T-shirt seemed larger than before now--"Boy Beater". The odd freckle and tiny soft hairs on her arms made him wish he could feel her hand pumping around his shaft once again--only this time to complete the job.
"Yeah. Make it all slippery wet, Professor." Cindy's bubbly demeanor had again begun deteriorating. "Lay back on that bed."
Johnson immediately lay on his back on the bottom bunk of the bed, still rapidly jerking off his tent pole. Finally, perhaps she would allow him to cum. Cindy walked over to the bed, where she tucked under the top bunk. She threw one of her legs around Johnson's upper torso and sat on his chest. Johnson's arm wrapped around her waist, his hand still slipping up and down on his cock. He strangely relished the weight of Cindy's body straddling his rib cage. She thrust the words on her tits into his face.
"Good boy. Slurp that dick, Professor." Her breathy lips practically touched his lobe and her slender arm stretched to the head of the bed to hold the mounds of her chest over his eyes.
Johnson could feel the baby smoothness of Cindy's upper thigh against his pumping forearm. Her blonde ponytail dangled lightly over top of his head, the slight perfumed smell of her conditioner penetrating his nose.
Cindy once again focused Johnson's attention when she breathed into his ear, "What does my shirt say, Professor?"
Johnson's hand was a blur on his dick; he was so close, yet so far from really feeling this girl. Humiliated, he allowed himself to utter the words.
"B-b-b... Boy Beater," he stammered--his barely audible speech broken by the emphatic cock stroking behind her.
"What's that, Professor?"
"B-b-boy Beater," he said, more strongly this time. He felt filthy, used, humiliated. His orgasm was only a few strokes away.
"That's right, Professor. You like boy beaters like me?" she taunted him. "Are you my naughty, shaved little boy?" Cindy's bubbly image had drained away completely, leaving only a fruity combination of Cindy's strawberry lip-gloss and the fresh scent of the body lotion trapped in her T-shirt.
"No. No." Johnson started shuddering underneath the teenager.
"Yes you are." She grunted into his ear. Her shaky breath whispered through her teeth. "You wanna get laid?"
"Yes!" He was so close. He couldn't stop stroking. He was too far over the edge now.
"Well, maybe tomorrow--if you're a good boy."
"Oh my God," Johnson choked. His entire body shuddered and convulsed underneath his young student. "Oh my God," he repeated, louder now. His steel dick erupted its first load of cum behind the girl on top of him. The teenager bucked and bounced slightly over his violently shuddering legs. It felt as if they were spring-loaded and directly attached to his ejaculatory muscles. His hand squeezed with all its might as another jet of sperm flooded out of his cock. Her pungent combination of perfume and girl musk invaded his nostrils; his metamorphosis from feared Professor to a naked, shaved, cock-jerking boy-toy was made abundantly clear by the contents of the writing across the small mounds of her breast.
Cindy grabbed the Professor's hair and pulled his head back; sloppy, wet slurping sounds filled the room along with his constricted cries of humiliating pleasure.
"You're my naughty jerk-squirter, Professor."
Johnson grunted and shuddered in orgasm--pinned down on the bed by his 'Boy Beater'. "Oh no. No." Finally, his cock eruptions ended as his conscious mind began to regain control.
"Good boy, Professor!" Cindy said brightly, instantly regaining her child-like exuberance. She sat up, and then immediately wrapped her leg back around and stood beside the bed. She swung her head around and looked down toward her cute ass. "Oopsy! You squirted your cum on me, Professor. That wasn't very nice!" She turned around and showed him her bottom. Most of his cum had squirted onto the hem of her shorts, and was dripping down her thighs."Ew. Gross, Professor," she said with a slight scowl in his direction. He couldn't help but feel a little satisfied at this. If his dick wasn't able to touch her, at least his cum was.
"God, Professor, how much did you cum?" Cindy turned around, trying to decide what to do. "I know," she announced, "Since you got your horny sperm all over me, why don't you get it off." Standing beside the bed, she bent one leg over his head so that her cum-covered thigh hovered over his face. "Lick it off, Professor," Cindy ordered with complete seriousness.
"Cindy, please..." he started to say, just as a thick drop of his sperm dripped off the teenager's leg, landing just to the side of his nose. He could feel it slithering down his cheek; the deep musk of his own semen was mixing with the strong odor emanating from the edge of her shorts.
"Come on, don't you want to lick my pretty leg, you horny old man?" She looked down across her leg and into his eyes. "Lick it just like you did my titty. Come on, be a good boy."
Johnson felt another dollop of sperm land on his chin. He wanted to wipe his face off.
"No. No!" she held his arms down with her hands. "Lick it off, Professor."
Johnson, feeling completely debased, slowly stuck his fluttering tongue out and licked Cindy's thigh. His salty cum entered his throat, tickling it. She made him do the same with her other leg, all while he felt his cum slithering down the side of his cheek and chin.
"Good boy," she said after he finally finished. She lifted her leg off the bed and forced him to eat what remained on his face. He'd never tasted his own cum before, and Cindy giggled at him when it made him cough.
"Doesn't that taste good?" she ridiculed him.
If he had his way, he'd never taste it again.
"Now Professor, I think it's time you got dressed and went home."
Was this it? Was this all that she wanted from him? He slowly got dressed in his suit.
"I have some homework for you, Professor."
Homework? Johnson looked at her. "Please, Cindy. What do you want?"
"Oop, you missed some." Her finger picked up a little errant sperm from her inner thigh. "Open up, doggy."
Before he had a chance to, Cindy pressed her wet finger between his lips and slid it along his tongue. He wanted to bite her finger off, but instead he obediently swallowed her offering.
"Good little cum-boy!"
He wanted to slap her.
"Now, I'll come over to your house at around 7:00 pm tomorrow, Professor. Before that you have to have a few things done for me."
"Cindy--"
"Oh, you just shush. It'll be fun! First thing you have to do is shave before I get there, just like you did today." She picked up the grocery bag that held Johnson's new razor. "Smooth as a baby's bottom, 'k, doggy?" She then picked up a videotape from her bedside table, dropped it in the bag, and handed it to him. "Then you have to watch this. She's really pretty, so you should like it. No getting cum all over it, now!"
Who did this fucking bitch think she was? He marveled at her lack of fear. There was no weakness in her. No apologies. His indignities tonight, and his "homework" tomorrow spoke of a larger plan, and he couldn't even begin to fathom what it was. After what he'd been through already, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
"Don't forget the rules, doggy. Oh, and you should be getting a big package tomorrow afternoon, too. No peeking though, it's a surprise!"
On his way home, he looked apprehensively at the videotape she had given him. His knees were sore, his balls itched, his throat tickled, and his forearms were red with rug burn. The otherwise innocuous, even jocular phrase repeatedly kept taunting him--gnawing at his self-esteem, questioning his very identity as a man--"Boy Beater."
He hated her. | 4 |
75,292 | The Past is Close Behind - Part 1 | 'Hurry up, mom, we'll be late. It starts at 7!' The frantic excitement in 16-year-old Amanda Knight's voice dragged her mother out of her reverie, the older woman grabbing her daughter in a playful bear hug as they walked up the long drive to Radcliffe College and the first Parents' Evening since Amanda had enrolled in the Sixth Form College some 6 months before.
Sixth Form College... how grand it all sounded and so different from the old days. Despite her daughter's anxious entreaties for haste, Suzanne Knight paused for a moment and looked up at the imposing stonework of the old building, its twin turrets at each end of the wall betraying its Tudor origins, the stained glass windows of the chapel in the east wing still as Suzanne remembered them. It had been over 20 years since she had last visited this spot, and the butterflies in her stomach had returned. She was glad of her daughter's affectionate nagging, for it distracted Suzanne's mind from the memories that surrounded this place, the aura that haunted her from so long ago.
It had been a girls-only Grammar School then, of course, but over the years, as government policy gradually phased out the selective school system, its role had changed to a college designed to give students that last academic push towards a University qualification. The old Grammar School and its examination conveyor belt methods had certainly worked for Suzanne, for now she was a partner in a scientific research consultancy, while Greg, her husband, was a chartered accountant, and a very successful one. Yet the memories of her old school haunted Suzanne's dreams in ways which left her feeling distraught and guilty.
When Amanda qualified for Radcliffe, she had been over the moon with delight, a joy that turned to disappointment at her mother's apparent indifference. Suzanne had tried to enthuse and knew how much her daughter wanted and needed her warmth and praise, yet could hardly bring herself to mention the place. It had been one of the few incidents that had provoked family friction, Greg puzzled and angry by his wife's attitude and conscious of his daughter's disappointment. They had tried to talk about it, but Suzanne had ended up angrily ridiculing his accusation that she was hiding something and had stormed off to the bedroom in tears.
They were the perfect modern couple, both rich, successful and flexible in their working arrangements. So flexible that when Amanda's induction day arrived, Suzanne had conveniently arranged a business meeting, leaving Greg little option but to escort his daughter to the initial meeting alone. He didn't complain, but, once more, unasked questions hung in the air. Suzanne felt cowardly and stupid, for Radcliffe College was mere bricks and mortar, yet the thought of going back filled her with dread. She knew she was being unfair to husband and child by this attitude, longing to confide the reasons for her antipathy but she simply could not. It was something she would just have to live with.
The date of the Parents' Evening had been traumatic for Suzanne, forcing her hand, making her confront her fears. Greg had important meetings with clients that day which could not be shelved, and she knew there was no longer any escape route. So she bravely accepted the responsibility of escorting her young daughter, glad for the sake of the family that this particular hang-up was finally going to be put to rest. So now, her nerves tight and her heart pulsing, she found herself being half-dragged up the driveway by a very agitated Amanda.
'Mom, they'll be cross if we're late and it's two minutes to seven!' the pretty brown-haired girl begged, and Suzanne swallowed hard before submitting to the inevitable, grabbing Amanda's arm before walking towards the stone steps which led to the reception area. Once inside the Hall, Suzanne's nerves began to settle amid the many parents who were milling around and helping themselves to coffee and sandwiches from a buffet supervised by two tall girls who were obviously prefects and proud of it.
Suzanne smiled as her ever-hungry 16-year-old dived into the sandwiches despite having just consumed an evening meal, and she used the time alone to wander around the reception area, which, apart from different-coloured paint, looked just as it had over 20 years before. Straight ahead of her were the swing doors that led to the assembly hall where tonight's meetings with the teachers would take place. Suzanne gave a little shiver. Why was it you always remembered the bad things? For it was in that assembly hall, after morning prayers, that Mrs Frobisher always announced the names of the girls who had appointments in her office as soon as prayers were finished. Everyone knew what that meant. Excited giggling inevitably broke out, and all juvenile eyes turned towards the hapless culprits who stood with bowed heads, red-faced and weeping with fear and shame until the sharp bark of Mrs Frobisher's voice restored order.
Once when she was sixteen, Suzanne had been on that name-and-shame roster. Once she had wept with fear as prayers ended and begun that walk back down the corridor like a condemned prisoner. There she had parted company with her friends who left via other exits for their respective classrooms, while she had walked back here through reception and through the doors on the opposite side which led to the Head Teacher's office. Oh God!
Her mouth suddenly dry, Suzanne walked across the reception hall and quietly pushed open the swing doors on the other side. She looked round hastily, but parents and children were occupied with grabbing food as she slipped quietly through and into the silent corridor beyond. Slowly she walked the few yards past the staff room and staff toilets until she came to that door... the very appearance of which she used to dread. It looked less forbidding now, for there was no entry light over the door, no sombre oak panelling, and yet she was filled with a nervous tension and fear which was almost sexual in its intensity. Suzanne, her throat as dry as dust, recalled the one and only time her shaking hands had knocked on this door all those years before and been summoned in by that loud, penetrating voice...For a brief moment, she dreaded the loss of her modesty and looked up in mute appeal to the headmistress. The only response was an angry motion of the head and an impatient wave, indicating that she should complete the humiliating dishabille. Suzanne turned away towards the desk once more, her eyes moist with tears as she slowly eased her knickers down to her ankles and lay across the desk. She had never even been spanked at home, and to be naked for the cane like this was beyond horror. She felt the cold air on her bare bottom and genitals, then heard the swish as Mrs Frobisher flexed the cane in a practice swing.
She gripped the edge of the wooden desk, conscious of how she must look, her pale bare bottom thrust up for the cane, her sex visible, her shame total. Then, with a blinding flash of fire across her bottom, which prompted a loud scream, Suzanne's shame and fear were of no further consequence. Her mind and body were consumed by the most agonizing pain she had ever experienced, and she began to writhe helplessly across the desk.
Dimly, she heard 'Stay still,' then another line of burning fire ignited across her helpless buttocks, a pain which raced through her system until it seemed to appear in her throat, her mouth opening wide as a dry retch forced its way out of her mouth. The fire turned into a burn like a thousand bee stings as Suzanne cried and wriggled before a third scalding slice bit into her bottom, and she howled and begged to be let off any more. It was to no avail, and three more strokes followed with relentless certainty. How she survived the pain of that caning without passing out, she would never know, but it was with sobbing relief that she heard the words 'You may dress!'
Her whole body seemed to be on fire as Suzanne dragged herself upright, reaching down with shaking hands to pull up her knickers. The contact of the tight cotton against her inflamed bottom once more sent her into spasms of weeping as she released her skirt from the belt.
For the first time that morning, Mrs Frobisher showed her some kindness. 'I know that hurt you a great deal, Suzanne, and it was meant to, but you took it very bravely. I fully intended to punish you severely so that you never, ever have to come back to my office again. If you do, I can assure you that the consequences will be even more severe. Now you may skip the remainder of your first lesson if you need to visit the toilet and make yourself presentable. You will find sitting down almost intolerable for the rest of the day, but that is your fault, and you should dwell on that. Now run along!'
Suzanne, her eyes blinded with tears, muttered a choking 'Yes, Mrs Frobisher' and began to shuffle painfully back towards the door of the Headmistress' office.
The door flew open, and Suzanne jumped out of her skin with fright.
'Hello there...' said the fresh-faced blonde woman with the beaming smile '...I'm Maureen Bishop, the Head Teacher. I guess you must be one of the parents. My, my, you look scared out of your wits. You weren't going to burgle the place, were you...' she asked with a grin '...or were you just having a mooch round?'
'I..I'm sorry...I know I should have stayed in reception, but I wasn't hungry and ...I..I used to attend the old school years ago...just trying to get my bearings,' Suzanne stuttered with embarrassment as Mrs Bishop smiled engagingly.
'No problem...' she said '...but you don't have to wait any longer. I'm just going to co-ordinate the proceedings, so if you'd like to follow me?'
As Suzanne followed the young Head up the corridor, she reflected on how times had changed. Of course, Mrs Frobisher had died some five years before, Suzanne remembered the obituary in the local paper, recalling the brief pang of sadness she had felt. The old girl had been hard and very stern, but Suzanne had never cheated in an exam again. Her methods had worked, for the pain of a caning had terrified Suzanne, a fear which had ignited a chain of events that led to the trauma she experienced to this day.
'Which of the girls is yours, Mrs..er...' the young Head Teacher looked round enquiringly as they reached reception, breaking Suzanne's reverie '...er...Knight,' she replied absently, pointing out the dark pretty girl still munching sandwiches as the parents gathered round expectantly.
'Ah, Amanda...' Mrs Bishop responded warmly '...a lovely girl. You must be very proud of her. She will do well, I think. A tendency to be a little careless sometimes, but her teachers will discuss that, I'm sure.'
Suzanne nodded politely as Amanda, now suitably refueled on sandwiches and cola, skipped happily over and politely acknowledged her Head Teacher.
Maureen Bishop gathered everyone round and explained the procedures for the evening, pointing towards the large assembly hall where the teaching staff was in wait. Each set of parents would be given a different table reference as a starting point, she said, and would then spend about 5 minutes with each teacher, working their way round the hall so that there were no great queues, and parents and children could ask and receive advice from each teacher in turn. At the end of the introduction, each parent was given a table number, and they began the walk up the corridor towards the waiting staff.
As the door to the assembly hall was pushed open and the echoes of moving chairs and tables could be heard in the vast auditorium, Suzanne felt her stomach tighten up once more, and, to Amanda's surprise, suddenly gripped her daughter's hand tightly and held on. As they walked on through the hall, Suzanne noting each table number as they passed the sea of tutorial faces now gathering a ring of parents around each table, her eye alighted on their allotted reference table, and she looked over at the man who sat there. He was grey-haired now and a little shrunken, but there was no mistaking that face.
Suzanne stared in disbelief, and her knees buckled for a second, her hands suddenly cold as ice as Amanda whispered, 'What's wrong, mom, you've gone pale!' Shakily, trying desperately not to throw up, she replied, 'I just feel a bit funny, love. I need to go to the loo for a minute...feel a bit sick. Hold the fort for me, pet, I won't be long!'
Hurriedly, she turned away, politely fending off the concerns of Maureen Bishop and a few parents, and fled from the hall and back through reception until she found the comfort of the staff toilets. She entered a closet, locked the door behind her, then sat on the toilet seat and burst into tears. Julian Morse was here, teaching at the college...teaching her daughter! | 5 |
75,301 | Nuisance Calls | 'I think you're trying to be cute, Susan! Too cute! You're trying to catch me out, and I don't like that. I think you'll have to be taught a lesson you won't forget! I'm going to come over there, take your panties down, and smack your bottom...hard...and that's just for starters!'
That's what the boy at the other end of the phone had said...word for word!
Susan Lang turned over in bed for the ninety-ninth time as she heard something rustle. Oh God, it was him! He was in the flat! Her heart thumped against her chest as she shot up in bed and then realized that the sound was just Tinkerbell using her scratching post in the kitchen. She lay down again, rubbing the perspiration from her brow. Rolling over, she tried to sleep, but the shock of his call still had her adrenaline pounding, so she got up and went to the kitchen for some water. Irrationally, she wondered if she should put some clothes on in case he was there in the flat, then laughed at her own stupidity. For a start, he wasn't in the flat...and if he HAD taken the trouble to break in, she knew what it was for...some severe attention to her bare bottom, and then some! A nightie would hardly stop him! So, naked, she padded out to the kitchen and turned on the tap.
Jesus, didn't most of them want straight sex? Why couldn't he be normal and just promise her a good seeing-to like 99% of all the perverts out there? Why was he so different...and why did she feel so excited by it? She wasn't frightened of him, not now, not one little bit, for she guessed from his voice he was just a kid about seventeen or eighteen who was looking for a way to get his rocks off. The voice was occasionally high and nervous when he said something outrageous, something which obviously aroused him, yet this was the first threat of any kind he'd come out with in the three weeks of constant phone calls.
Susan had been shocked when the first call came, for he'd just said 'Hi, Susan!' very informally as if he'd known her for years. There was no heavy breathing or handkerchief over the mouth, and she'd thought at first it was the son of her mother's neighbor back home, until he said 'You're very beautiful. Why don't you stand at the window and show me your pussy!'
Although trembling with fear at first, Susan had suppressed a gasp and counted to ten before replying, trying to calm her nerves. She'd made a silly joke about not disturbing her pussy while it was eating, and the boy had been taken aback, but to her surprise, he'd giggled at the other end and said 'Very quick. A chick with a sense of fun. I like that! We'll talk again!' and had put the phone down. From then on, the calls had been every night at more or less the same time, and Susan had immediately realized she was dealing with an obsessive.'she'd said, hiding her disappointment with difficulty as he'd kissed her cheek and begun to undress for bed. Susan had wanted to pound the pillow in frustration. He was too nice, too understanding. Why hadn't he given her a good bare bottom tanning and done with it! How did he expect to get respect if he always backed down and apologized. Now she'd never know what it was like to get your bare bum thrashed! She couldn't just ask him, for goodness sake! She'd lain in bed just stroking her bottom and sighing softly as her fingers strayed to other places.
Christ, just what I'm doing now, Susan said to herself as her hand moved back and forth across her soft warm buttocks, occasionally letting her hand stray to the cleft of her sex which was becoming ever more moist as she thought about the boy and his promise. Eventually tiredness won out and she fell into a deep sleep, waking only when the alarm went off at 8:00 the next morning. She leapt out of bed and dived into the bathroom, showered and cleaned her teeth before pulling on her clothes then raced downstairs to the kitchen. She fed the cat and grabbed a bowl of cornflakes, stuffing them loudly down her throat before racing to the front door, car keys in hand ready for another day at the office.
She arrived at fourteen minutes past nine, just inside the grace period, breathed a sigh of relief and clocked in before climbing the stairs to her office. She walked in to the hub of enterprise where hordes of her colleagues, who barely gave her a good morning, sat behind their PCs like statues seemingly frozen in concentration. Susan sat down at her own desk and switched on her machine then yawned loudly as it began the morning boot up procedure. The noise attracted the attention of her project leader, two desks away, who otherwise would have been oblivious to her arrival.
'Ah, good afternoon, Susan...' he said sarcastically '...nice of you to put in an appearance!'
Susan smiled in a sweetly sardonic way in reply and began to enter her password. She grinned at the girl opposite who had leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner.
'Hi, Sue...' Karen Johnson whispered '...did.. er.. he keep you awake last night or something? Have you had another call...?' and, as Susan nodded '...I don't know why you don't go to the police. What did he ask you to do this time!'
'He didn't ask me anything...' Susan whispered in reply '...he told me he was coming round to whip my bare bottom!'
Karen's hand went to her mouth but her exploding chortle raised eyes around the office for two seconds before the normal robotic concentration was restored.
'Cheeky bugger...,' Karen said, red faced as she absorbed the possibilities '...how awful! Susie, you've got to report him now...he could be dangerous!'
Susan shook her head before replying.
'Nah...,' she whispered '...he's just a spotty faced little saddo with a vivid imagination. It's very naughty but I must admit I found it a bit exciting!'
Karen shook her head in pity.
'God, you two were made for each other! You're as sick as he is!'
A pointedly obvious cough from the direction of the opposite desk attracted their attention and the look on the project leader's face compelled an end to the conversation and a hurried return to concentrating on their work. All morning Susan entered and plotted stock market prices on the computer but her mind could not escape from images of being bent over the boy's knee with her pants down displaying her bottom to a total stranger. At one point she had to go to the Ladies for no other purpose than to change her panties, the ones she'd been wearing now hot and damp, so vivid were her daydreams.
Just before lunch she received a phone call and, just for a second, wondered if...but then resolutely picked up the receiver. It was Gary from the computer room.
'Hi, S..S..Sue...,' he stammered in his usual style '...are you L...L...'
'Lunching...?' she asked softly, helping him out '...sure thing, I'll meet you by the stairs!' then slung her bag over her shoulder and set off for the staff restaurant. She smiled to herself as she saw Gary loitering by the staircase. Susan liked him a lot and was certain she'd like him a whole lot more if only he could develop some confidence. He was dying to ask her out and she'd tried to encourage him but the stammer always got in the way. She couldn't do it all for him...so she waited and waited. He'd get there one day!
They sat together in the restaurant on their own, consuming ample helpings of steak and kidney pie.
'Is...is that b...b..boy still r..ringing you?' Gary asked her, his face etched with concern, and Susan longed to take hold of his hand but, of course, she didn't.
'Fraid so...' she said '...and he's getting cheekier, too. Last night he...' then checked for she knew Gary would be outraged that she'd tolerated such conversations. She looked down and he didn't press it.
'You sh..sh..should call the p..p..police...' Gary said between mouthfuls '...you...you're t..taking a b..big risk! I w..wish I c..c..could help!' Susan looked across at the bespectacled young man opposite, whose hapless shyness exacerbated his stammer terribly, and a sudden wonderful idea came to her. An idea which might solve everything in one magnificent swoop.
'Perhaps you can, Gary...' she said with a smile '...are you doing anything tonight? If not, perhaps you'd like to come round for dinner at about 7. He usually rings at eight. You might make all the difference!'
She grinned as she saw the perspiration leap into his blushing cheeks and watched him take off his glasses with trembling fingers.
'R..r..really...?' he gasped '...I mean you really th..th..think...?'
Susan put her hand gently on his arm.
'Yes I do...' she said, smiling '...I think you will make all the difference!'
Susan arrived home at 5:30, dropped her shoulder bag in the hall and began taking off her clothes in preparation for a long lingering shower. Stepping under the shower, she closed her eyes as the water poured over her face and body, her breasts tingling as the heat turned her nipples a darker reddish hue. She began to soap her body, her hands gently stroking her buttocks as she began to imagine her plan taking shape. Her soapy fingers moved to the thick hair between her legs and she penetrated the slit with her forefinger, teasing and stroking as the evening's programme took shape in her mind. No, she wouldn't, she'd save it for later, so stopped the exploration of her vagina, stepped out of the warm water and began to towel herself down. What should she wear for Gary? She mused for a few minutes, still towelling herself down and walked into her bedroom.
The doorbell rang at exactly seven and Susan walked down the hallway, shouting cautiously 'who's there?' just in case it was...but no, of course, it was Gary. When she opened the door and saw him standing there with flowers in his hand and a shy grin on his face, she could have kissed him but instead smiled happily and said 'Bang on time! Come in, and thanks for the flowers!'
For a few seconds, Gary didn't move but just stared with open mouth at the vision of loveliness who stood before him. Susan had changed into a little black cocktail dress cut low so that the full swell of her breasts was emphasized, the skirt so short that it finished about six inches below the crotch, just hiding her panties.
She grinned at him.
'Does that mean you're impressed or are you horrified?' she asked softly as he wiped his spectacles.
'N..N..No, y..you look f..f..fantastic!' he muttered, his eyes wide as he stumbled over the step to Susan's amusement.
'Sit down and take the weight off...' she told him with a grin as she ushered him into the dining room '...dinner won't be long...but I can't take the credit...I got us a takeaway from the Chinese!'
'G..great!' he said hoarsely then coughed as she turned round and walked out to the kitchen. Susan knew his eyes were boring into her bottom as she walked with an exaggerated sway out of the room. She smiled and wondered what would happen later on!
They ate dinner in relative silence, Gary obviously overwhelmed by the appearance of his host, then she took the dishes out to the kitchen. It was 7:40 and her heart pounded for the next call was due at eight. Would everything go to plan? The next few minutes would tell!. She walked back into the living room with two cups of tea and sat on the sofa next to Gary who immediately moved up a bit to leave space between them.
'What's the matter? Do I have a personal hygiene problem?' she grinned and he began to stammer his apologies.
'Never mind, I'm just joking...' she said lightly as Gary returned to his original place his leg now rubbing against her bare thigh. She deliberately moved her thigh against his leg and heard him gasp, then saw the swelling prominence in the front of his trousers. Good, coming to the boil nicely! Just hope everything else works to plan!
'Now...,' Susan said softly '...let's talk about how you can help me finish these phone calls once and for all!' and she rested her hand lightly on his arm as she spoke.
'R..right...!' Gary said passionately '...so w..when he r..rings at eight, y.y.you g.give me the phone and I..I'll l..let him h..have it! I d..don't s..stammer when I'm angry!'
Susan felt herself beginning to blush from the roots of her hair right down her face and neck to the swell of her breasts.
'No, you won't...' she murmured, touching his hand as she stared him full in the face '...because at five to eight...,' she paused as a fierce heat rose in her cheeks '...I want you to take my knickers down and start spanking my bare bottom...good and hard!She closed her eyes and winced at the crash as Gary's teacup broke into pieces as it fell from his trembling fingers.
"W-w-what?" he managed as his mouth fell open, his face as red as a beetroot, and Susan swallowed hard.
"I'm serious," she said quietly. "I want you to spank my bare bottom so he can hear it down the phone. It'll work, I know it will, because that's what HE wants to do most... so if he thinks I've got a man giving me the business, he'll be so upset he'll find somebody else to pester!"
"B-b-but... Sue, surely not... I mean, isn't there?... I mean, my God... I..." and he swallowed hard and subsided into a burble.
Susan grinned and put her hand on his arm.
"Don't think I'm shameless, Gary! You ought to be honored to be chosen to deliver my first-ever spanking. Don't you want the job?"
Gary was speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a stranded whale. "Y-yes... well, no... I mean, should I want to... I... I... I... Christ, Sue!"
Susan gripped his arm tightly. "Yes, it's natural for a man to want to... and I want you to. It's the only way. It has to be genuine, and I have to be feeling it when I answer the phone or else he'll never buy it.
Look, Gary, it's nearly five to eight! Now put me over your knee and make sure the phone is within my reach. You better..." she paused as she colored with embarrassment "...take my panties down and make yourself familiar with the terrain!"
Gary sat stock still, his mouth gaping, and Susan decided to make things easier for him by easing her body across his lap, first flipping up the short skirt before adjusting her position, hands touching the floor. She heard his gasp and grinned as she felt the rapidly stiffening penis against her loins. The view must have been breathtaking, for she knew her bottom was full and shapely, covered only by a pair of sheer black lace panties which hardly hid anything. She waited expectantly, feeling Gary's legs trembling beneath her.
"Come on then..." she said impatiently "...take them down and get cracking!" then pushed down on her hands to lift her hips clear of his legs. After what seemed like an age, she felt his hands tentatively grip the waistband of her panties before he rolled them down, so slowly, swallowing loudly as her bare bottom was revealed.
Susan closed her eyes in joyous expectation as she awaited the fulfillment of her life's desire, her bare bottom wriggling seductively across his lap. Then his hand descended onto her right buttock with all the force of a feather, and Susan's disappointment was overwhelming.
"Goddamn it, Gary..." she hissed angrily "...are you a man or a mouse? Spank me, for God's sake, and make me feel it!" She sensed his anger immediately at the rebuke as his breath quickened, then suddenly her bottom was aflame as a hand swept down with force onto her bare cheeks. It was as if the floodgates had opened, for suddenly her bottom was assailed by blows on both cheeks, hard smacks which took her breath away, and she began to smile with delight for it was just as good as Jenny had...
Brrrrrrr, Brrrrrrr, the telephone began to ring as Susan gasped in surprise and made to move to answer it, but she was held down firmly as a hand reached down and moved the phone away from her grasp. The spanking paused as the phone was lifted from the hook, and she first heard the boy's familiar voice saying "Hello Susan, are you ready for a good thrashing?" then a voice she hardly recognized, a voice so sure, so confident that her heart leapt with joy.
"This is not Susan..." the voice replied angrily "...it's her boyfriend, and if you ever ring this number again, I'll personally come round and take you apart. Don't think your scrambler device will save you because I'm a Telecom engineer, and we have ways of getting through these little problems. You're a sad, sick boy, and I advise you to get off this line...for good!"
Susan lay in wonder across Gary's lap as she heard the authority in his voice...and not a trace of a stammer! She heard the boy's strangled gasp at the other end, his voice almost choked in tears as he shouted "Oh Christ, the bloody bitch! I thought she was..." before slamming down the phone. Gulping with excitement, Susan muttered quietly "That wasn't in the script, Gary, you were supposed to let him hear...OOOOWWW" as she was jolted by a firm smack across her rump.
"From now on, young lady, I'm dictating the script..." Gary said firmly but with a hint of excitement "...and I'm not pandering to his sick games. He won't be back, so I suppose I don't need to spank you any more...but I'm going to! You could have been in danger playing up to nutters like that instead of reporting him, and you deserve a bloody good hiding! Which is exactly what you're going to get!"
Susan's body shivered with excitement as she waited for the firm hand across her naked buttocks.
"Yes, Gary..." she said quietly "...and I deserve every spank...but now you're my boyfriend, will you take me to bed when you've finished and make it better...please, love?" | 4 |
78,264 | Aunt Raven: The Story Of Jenny Ch. 02 | 'Jen!' Carl said, giving his sister a little shake to break her from daydreaming. 'Are you okay?' he asked, sitting down next to her.
Jen snapped from her thoughts of the past and looked up at Carl. 'I'm fine. I was just thinking,' she said, forcing a smile.
'It looked like you were a million miles away,' he laughed as a dazed look covered her aging face. 'What were you thinking about?' Carl asked with a smile, wondering what she'd been thinking about.
She just smiled, knowing her next words to Carl were something they had agreed not to talk about again. 'When Mom died,' she whispered, and had to smile at him. 'I haven't forgotten,' Jen said, giving him a sly look.
'I thought we weren't going to bring that up?' Carl said, hoping nobody would come into the room until they finished talking.
'Fuck it!' she smiled, thinking of all the things they'd done together and how hard she'd just slapped her son for fucking Raven. 'I just lost my son for the same thing we did,' she said as tears began to run from her eyes and down her face.
'I know,' he replied, caressing her back. 'You really need to apologize. Tim is a good kid and...' Carl added, thinking of how beautiful Raven was. 'I would have done the very same thing if I was in his shoes,' he said with a smile, thinking of the things that he and Jen did as kids. 'We did the same thing.'
She just gave him a little slap on his leg and smiled. 'Yes, we did,' she smiled at Carl, remembering how big and hard he always got for her. 'Does your wife suck you as good as I used to?' she asked with a smile, sliding her hand up his leg until she felt him growing under her hand.
'What do you think?' Carl replied, remembering just how wonderful Jenny always sucked him. 'I don't think I'll ever get it as good as you did,' he smiled, running his hand up under her skirt, wondering if his sister would be interested in reliving the past.
'Silly man! How dare you touch me like that,' she laughed as a forgotten fire started building between her legs. 'I never found a man that was ever your size, and it really sucked,' Jenny said, thinking of how his big, thick cock was and how great it felt. 'Does she like it?' she asked, wondering if Carl's wife loved his cock as much as she did.
'I can't fuck her the way your nasty ass liked it, but I learned to live with it,' he replied, thinking how Jenny always loved him fucking her as hard and as deep as he could.
'Poor, little baby,' she teased in a motherly voice, thinking of how hard Carl would cum for her. 'I bet it really missed me,' Jenny giggled as she squeezed his cock as hard as she could.
'Missed?' he laughed, hoping nobody heard him. 'When you went to college and I joined the Marines, I thought that I was going to die!' Carl said, thinking of how badly he'd missed Jenny and all the worthless women he'd been with, hoping that just one would be as half as good as Jenny.
Jenny couldn't help but laughing at Carl. 'I know. It was a total bitch!' she said, thinking of all the guys that she'd gone through, hoping she'd find one with a cock as big as his or Daddy's, but she never did and settled for her husband.
'I know who I'll be thinking of the next time she lets me fuck her,' Carl smiled, hoping his wife would be in the mood to fuck later that night. If so, he'd be thinking of Jenny.
Jenny smiled bigger than ever as Carl's words filled her ears, wishing that she'd be under him instead of his cold wife. 'And, who might that be?' she asked, knowing who, but Jenny wanted to tease her brother.
'You're still nothing but a cock teaser,' he smiled, moving his hand up her thigh to her pussy. 'Damn! Is someone getting horny?' Carl whispered as his fingers slowly slid over her panties and were quickly covered with her warm juices.
'What do you think, fucker?' Jenny moaned, spreading her legs, wishing that they were alone. 'I wish we could go back to that summer so bad,' she moaned again and was so glad that Raven threw up all over herself and Tim or she and Carl would never be having this wonderful conversation.
'It would be fun,' he smiled as his fingers ran the length of Jenny's excited pussy, enjoying her soft moaning and the feel of touching her again after so many years. 'How many times do you think we did it?' Carl asked as he tried to remember, but they fucked each other like two little rabbits and there was no way to count.
'Who knows,' she laughed as visions of a few places they fucked drifted into her mind. 'I loved doing it down by the river the best,' she smiled, having a good idea that's where Tim and Raven did it. 'Do you think Daddy was a good man?' Jenny asked Carl, wondering what he thought of their father and if he had any clue of what happened between them.
'Yes! Why did you ask something so dumb?' Carl asked, pulling his hand from under Jenny's skirt. 'I know something happened with you two, but I was never sure what. One day you're at home and the next day you're going to college,' he added, remembering how bad it hurt when Jenny left home. 'Did he fuck you too?' Carl asked, wondering what her answer would be or if she would even tell him.
She just laughed as she gave him a loving caress on his back. 'That's a long story, brother,' she laughed again as her mind slipped back to that summer so very long ago.'I need to fuck my baby girl,' he moaned again, thinking of being deep in her tight virgin pussy, giving her the satisfaction she craved.
'Yes, you do.' Jenny smiled, wishing they were at home. 'Will you please do it tonight?' she begged him with need as waves of lust covered her young body, giving Jenny the feeling she was close to coming. 'I could cum so easy,' she whispered as Daddy kept pushing his stiff cock against her eager pussy. It needed Daddy's big, hard cock to stop that awful burning that haunted her day and night.
'I want you to tell Patti you're sorry for being so rude, and tonight,' he grabbed her tight ass, shoved her to his rock-hard cock. 'I'm fucking you!' he growled in her ear, enjoying a low moan of lust coming from someplace deep inside her.
'Oh yes! I need it so bad, Daddy,' she whimpered, thinking of him on her, with his big, hard cock rammed up her tight pussy, making her his new wife, his bitch or anything that Daddy wanted her to be.
'You're going to get it,' he laughed, feeling his cock harder than it had been in years, and it was all for Jenny, his daughter. 'I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll beg me to stop,' he moaned, squeezing her ass, leaning to bite her neck and wished they were at home.
'Never!' she moaned, as his hands held her ass and his teeth sank into her neck. 'Will you do it just like this?' Jenny moaned, thinking of him holding her this very same way, but his long cock deep in her pussy. 'I want it hard! Just like you'd fuck a whore!' she moaned, trying to push her hips to his hips.
'I'll do anything you want, and I'm making you my little bitch,' he smiled, thinking of Jenny being his little sex slave to fuck anytime he wanted or needed.
'Oh yes! You can fuck me whenever you want!' she moaned as that fire in her tiny pussy was totally out of control, and if they didn't stop soon, she'd be coming in her jeans. 'I need to stop, Daddy. I'm so close,' she whispered, hoping she wouldn't cum; she wanted to hold it in for Daddy.
He slowly pulled from her and smiled. 'We'll finish this tonight,' he said, fixing his shirt and hoped nobody would notice his cock. 'Let's go, and remember what I said. You better tell Patti that you're sorry!' he added, pointing to her face and wouldn't hesitate to slap her sexy, little ass if she didn't.
*.
'Hey Dad. Can me and Becky stay the night with Aunt Cindy? I haven't seen Bobby in two months and Becky wants to see Anna.' Carl asked, hoping that Dad would let them go to see them. He needed a break from all the things going on.
John knew the answer without even thinking. He had plans with a very hot young girl that was sitting right beside him. 'I don't see why not. It'll do you two good to get away for a night,' he smiled to Carl and Becky, and he knew he had to tease Jenny. 'Do you want to go with them?' he asked Jenny, holding in a laugh, and he felt a hard pinch on his side.
'No,' she replied with a fake yawn. 'I need my bed tonight. I'm so tired,' Jenny added, giving him a look that could kill. She knew that he was teasing, but she didn't think it was funny. She needed him to make her a woman and claim her as his.
'I know what you mean. I can't wait to get a hot shower and get in bed,' he said, sliding his hand around her back, gently caressing her ass.
Becky just sat looking out the side window, trying her best to understand all that was happening. Her Mommy was going up to heaven to be with Jesus. 'Daddy, how come Mommy has to die?' Becky asked, with tears running down her pretty, little face.
John's heart sank when her words filled his ears. He turned to see her crying and quickly pulled to the side of the road. 'Come here, baby,' he said, and Becky jumped into his arms. 'Don't, baby. Mommy will be fine, and trust me. She'll always be watching over us and making sure that we're okay,' he said, caressing her back.
'I'm going to miss her so much, Daddy,' Becky cried harder, thinking of losing her Mom.
John couldn't hold back, and he cried with her. 'We're all going to miss her. She's a very, very special lady,' he said, thinking of life without Claire. They'd been married so long, and now he'd be alone. Sure he'd be free to try and find a good woman, but deep down John knew he'd never find anyone like her.
'Who'll take care of us?' Becky asked, looking to her Daddy. She knew he was fun to play with and lots of other things, but there was no way he could do all the things Mom did.
'Well, we can find us a housekeeper or maybe one of those nannies, like in that movie we saw last month,' he said, hoping to try and comfort Becky and let her know that everything would be fine after Claire was gone.
'I love you, Daddy,' Becky smiled, grabbing him and hugging as tight as she could, knowing that Daddy would do his best, and she didn't have a thing to worry about. 'Okay, I'm fine now,' she smiled and curled up on his lap.
John couldn't help but laugh and continued driving towards their aunt's house. Cindy was Claire's younger sister and loved the kids coming over to her home. In fact, she and Claire wondered if it would be best if Cindy took Becky after Claire died. John didn't have time, Carl would be in school, and Jenny wasn't the housekeeper type.
John pulled up to Cindy's large house, which he bought for her when her husband left, and looked at Carl. 'If anything happens...I'll come and get you two,' he said in a solemn voice, hoping it wouldn't happen on the night he chose to screw his daughter.
'Okay, Dad,' Carl replied, and was so glad they had a Dad like him. He kept a cool head through all of Mom's suffering and never once showed how much this was hurting him. Carl knew how much they loved each other and hoped that Dad wasn't holding too much inside.
About that time, Cindy and her kids came outside. 'Well, hey there,' she smiled, walking around the trunk to John. 'How's my favorite brother-in-law doing?' Cindy asked, gently caressing John's massive arm, trying to hide her feelings towards him. She loved him very much, but he didn't need to know, and he was married to her sister.
'I'm doing good. We needed a little break, and those two wanted to come spend the night with you,' John smiled, enjoying Cindy's loving touch, like he had for years. She always had an extra smile, a soft touch, and John knew why, but he loved Claire and it never went any farther.
She just smiled and had a wonderful idea. 'Why don't all of you stay? It'll give us a chance to talk,' Cindy said, hoping so much that John would take her up on the offer. 'I'm making a nice chicken dinner, with all the fixings, and in the morning, I'll treat you to a good, hot breakfast before you go back,' she added, smiling bigger, making sure to bat her eyes at him. She knew John loved her cooking, and her chicken was his favorite.
John felt his stomach growling and Jenny pinching his side, but he did need to talk with Cindy, plus, he was starving. 'You got a deal!' he replied, and Jenny came close to ripping out one of his ribs, but she could wait.
'Great!' Cindy said with excitement, thinking of her house being filled with kids and a man under her roof for the first time in seven long years. 'Well, let's get inside, I'm sure my chicken is about to burn, and we don't want that happening,' she laughed as the kids took off running into the house, but she noticed Jenny didn't look very happy. 'What's wrong, baby?' she asked, looking to Jenny.
'We needed to talk about a few things. You go on in, and we'll be there in just a few minutes,' John said, knowing Jenny was fuming.
'I'll put on a pot of coffee for you,' Cindy replied as she turned and went in the house. 'I wonder if Jenny is trying to do something bad with her Daddy,' Cindy thought as she tended to her chicken and made John a big pot of coffee. She knew that Claire hadn't been able to have sex in a long time, and as far as Cindy knew, he remained faithful to Claire.
Tears ran down Jenny's face as she looked to John. 'Why are we doing this? You said that tonight you'd take me,' she said, feeling like her heart had been torn in two. Tonight was theirs, and Daddy ruined it. She needed him and his wonderful love.
'I know, and I'm sorry,' he said, hugging her as tight as he could, hoping to comfort her, but John knew it was going to take more than just a hug. 'I need you too, but I also need to be with Becky, Carl, and Cindy had nobody, honey. She's all alone, trying to deal with her last family member dying,' he added, rocking her in his arms, trying to explain this to her. 'She's all alone, other than us, baby. All her family is gone,' he whispered, hugging Jenny as her tears rolled down his big arm.
Jenny knew he was right, but she was hurting so bad. Her insides were killing her, and she knew that only one thing would make it better, her Daddy's big cock. 'I guess I'll take a good, hot bath and masturbate, maybe that'll help,' she smiled, reaching for his cock. 'Can I suck for a couple of minutes? Please,' Jenny asked, putting out her lip, hoping he'd let her get a little pleasure, and she'd make sure Daddy got some too.
'Just a few minutes, Cindy will be wondering what we're doing out here,' he laughed, watching her unzipping his pants as fast as she could. 'Oh shit!' John growled when Jenny swallowed him to the root and started with all of her might. 'Oh, baby!' he moaned, wondering if staying with Cindy had been a terrible mistake. He could be at home, fucking this beautiful, young girl to death, but now he'd just be left with a hard, swollen cock.
Jenny sucked him hard and didn't care if he came or not. She wanted him to know just what he'd missed out on, and now, he would suffer the rest of the night. 'I'll teach you,' she thought, sucking him deep, to the back of her mouth and into her silky throat.'You could have had it all,' she thought, relaxing her throat, easing his stiff cock down it, enjoying him squirming under her.
'You're an evil little girl!' John laughed, knowing what Jenny was doing to him, but he wanted to be with Cindy and try to help her through her sisters' death. 'Everything you do to me, I'll get you back later,' he laughed again, feeling her giggling.
She slowly eased from him and replied, 'I'm not evil,' she smiled, giving his cock one last kiss before she sat up. 'I just wanted you to know what you missed and are going to get later,' she whispered, giving him a hug. Jenny was going to get him, but she didn't know when and hoped that she wouldn't be too old to enjoy it.
'Trust me, I know what I missed. We'll do it, I just don't know when,' he said, caressing her beautiful face, hoping that he could go through with it. She was his baby.
'I hope it's before I die!' Jenny laughed, hugging him tighter and couldn't wait to get a hot bath. 'Okay, I'm done. Let's get in before people start talking about us!' she giggled and jumped from his truck.
After dinner, Cindy and John sat at the table talking. 'Is that pretty daughter of yours trying to get nasty with her handsome Daddy?' Cindy asked with a big smile, wishing that her Dad had looked half as good as John did.
'How did you know?' he asked, looking into Cindy's soft blue eyes, enjoying her loving smile, wondering why she never remarried. She was a beautiful woman with light brown hair cut at her shoulders, the face of an angel and a body that was out of this world. He guessed that her breasts were a nice C cup, her waist was very, very thin and her ass, maybe a small 36 inches.
'That girl is heat and it's for you. Anyone with a set of eyes and a brain could see it,' she replied, wondering if they'd been together. 'Did you get any of that hot ass yet?' Cindy asked with a wink, imagining him being her Daddy.
'No, but it's just a matter of time. That girl is trying to kill me,' he laughed, seeing a look on Cindy's face that he'd never seen before. She looked like she was about to rape him too.
'I can't blame her one bit.' Cindy replied, feeling like she'd wet herself. 'If you were my Dad,' she paused to take a sip of her coffee. 'I'd wanna fuck you too,' she whispered with lust, hoping John might want to be with her someday. Claire always teased them about flirting so much, but she knew they only played.
'Oh Lord!' John thought to himself. 'I got another girl wanting me,' he added, knowing deep down that Cindy always liked him.
'It's bad enough how horny she has me, don't you add to the fire,' he said in a low voice, looking straight into her beautiful blue eyes, trying to picture looking at them as he made love to her.
'I wouldn't just add to it,' she smiled, returning his look, trying to think of John on her, giving her lonely pussy a deep fuck. 'I'd pour gas on it,' she smiled again, enjoying the look of pain on his poor face. 'You're going to be a hot item when this is over.' Cindy said, wondering if he'd remain single or hook up with another woman.
'I am now,' he quickly replied. 'I have Jenny, Patti and I'm starting to wonder about my sister-in-law!' John laughed, but Cindy didn't. She just sat, looking at him, biting her lower lip and he knew.
'I've been crazy about you since the first second Claire brought you to our house,' she smiled, feeling her face turning red and her heart beating out of control. 'But, I kept it to myself. I do admit that I've masturbated quite a few times thinking about you.' Cindy added, knowing her pale face had to have looked like a tomato by now.
John felt his cock filling with blood as he heard Cindy's words. 'Was it good?' he asked, and couldn't believe there was any way her face could get redder, but it did.
'Keep it up, Mister! You think Jenny turns you on? I'll go change into my white jeans and shirt you like so much.' Cindy said, remembering all the times she'd worn the outfit and how John's eyes were always on her or her tiny ass.
He just looked at her and wished the kids were all in bed. 'Why don't you run the kids to bed, change and I'll make us something a little better to drink,' he said, hoping this wasn't out of line or stupid. His wife wasn't dead and here he was, thinking about fucking her baby sister.
She just looked at him and wasn't sure of what to do. Claire knew that Cindy and John were very close and hinted that it would be cute if they got together after she was gone. 'You talk about me heating things up,' she said, trying to figure all this out. She wanted John in the worst way and remembered the day that Claire told her it was okay to go after him. 'She told me to get you late, last year, but I couldn't. She told me she didn't mind and that you needed someone to...you know,' she giggled, knowing her face was red again.
John felt like screaming. If there'd been anyone in the world he'd been willing to be unfaithful with, it would have been Cindy. 'I should put you over my knee,' he said, feeling his cock getting so hard it hurt. 'When she told me to go find someone,' he paused to reach for her hand and smiled. 'You were the one I thought of.' John laughed, remembering all the times Cindy made him hard in the last two years and how wonderful it would have been.
'Oh shit!' Cindy moaned, thinking of all the times she'd pleasured herself and could have had the real thing. 'Well, that just plain ol' sucks, don't it,' she laughed and couldn't wait to rush the kids off to bed. She'd wanted this for a very long time and it was about to happen. 'You should tuck Jenny in bed first and see what happens. I think it would be cute if you did,' she smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 'I remember the first time my Daddy took me and I'll never forget the love we shared,' she smiled in a low, seductive voice as she caressed his hand. 'I'll be here when you're finished!' Cindy winked, knowing that her young niece was in for a wonderful time. 'I'll even help her get ready,' she smiled, stood up and rushed to find Jenny.
'Holy shit!' he thought, drinking his coffee. 'I would have thought Jake would do something like that,' he laughed to himself, thinking of the old man doing it with Cindy. 'You never know,' he said, lighting a cigarette, hoping he could make his daughter happy.
Cindy found Jenny sitting in the spare bedroom looking sad and depressed. 'I got some news for you!' she said, sitting on the floor next to her. 'I got a little secret you will enjoy.' Cindy smiled, holding Jenny close. 'I did it with my Daddy too,' she smiled more, feeling her face turning red. 'I was talking to your Daddy and I told him that I knew what was going on,' she added and couldn't wait to tell Jenny the rest. 'I told him that he should take you and fuck your cute, little ass off!' she said and laughed at the shocked look on Jenny's face.
'Are you kidding?' Jenny asked as a flood of excitement rushed over her. 'We've come close a few times, but something always messes us up,' she added with pain in her soft voice.
'Well,' Cindy smiled, hugging Jenny and handed her something to wear. 'You try those on. Your Daddy just loves white and with this being your first time,' she said, thinking of her first time with her Daddy. 'It'll be just like it was your honeymoon.' Cindy said, hoping he'd hurry, because she wanted that big ol' cock of his too. Claire told her about it and all the pleasures it gave her, and Cindy wanted to feel it for herself.
'Thank you!' Jenny said, grabbing Cindy, hugging her with all of her might. 'I'm going to hurry,' she said, standing up, started stripping off her clothes and couldn't wait. She smiled at Cindy, trying to imagine Cindy fucking her Daddy. Jenny didn't remember much about him, but she did remember he was a very sweet man. 'What's it like? I love Daddy more than anything. Will this make it better?' she asked, slipping off her panties and was completely nude, with Cindy looking over her body.
'It did for me. That's why my husband left me. He came home early from his drinking and playing pool. He caught us fucking in the middle of the living room like two little dogs!' Cindy laughed as that day filled her mind. 'He about shit in his pants,' she laughed more as the look on his ugly face filled her mind. 'I told him if he'd fucked me, I wouldn't have had to fuck my Daddy!' Cindy laughed more, hoping none of the kids heard them talking. 'I didn't tell him that I'd been fucking Daddy since I turned eighteen."
'Cool!' Jenny said, wiggling her ass as she pulled up the tiny pair of white panties. 'Oh wow!' she said, looking down to see. 'You can see right through them!' she gasped, running a finger up the center of her young, excited pussy. 'He's going to shit,' she moaned, thinking of Daddy seeing her.
'He'll faint!' Cindy whispered and couldn't resist touching her sexy, little niece. 'Nice!' she whispered, running her small hand over Jenny's virgin pussy, enjoying the heat coming from her and a smile that Cindy loved. 'Did you like that?' Cindy asked with a whisper and couldn't help but touching her more.
Jenny was in shock that her aunt was touching her, but in a strange way, it felt so good. 'Yes,' Jenny moaned as Cindy's loving fingers slid over her pussy, sending the strangest feeling running through her body.
'Your Daddy should have taken this a long, long time ago,' she paused to give Jenny's clit a tiny squeeze before going on. 'I know I would have,' she whispered again, giving Jenny a long and very deep kiss.
Jenny just stood, enjoying Cindy, her hands and now a kiss to remember the rest of her life. 'Wow!' she moaned as her beautiful aunt pulled from her.
'Maybe next time I ask if you'd like to spend the night,' she paused to wink and give Jenny's warm pussy another soft caress.'You'll do it.'
Cindy smiled and left the room.
'Wow!' Jenny said, flopping back on the bed and thinking of her aunt's warm hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy. 'Aunt Cindy is a wild one!' she giggled, remembering her mom talking about how crazy Cindy was before she got married, but Jenny never gave it much thought, until now. 'Damn, that felt good,' she moaned, wondering what would happen if she stayed the night with Cindy. 'I wonder if she'd do me,' Jenny giggled, thinking of the two girls in school that were lovers.
'She's all ready and willing!' Cindy smiled, walking behind John and couldn't resist hugging him. 'You remember to save some strength for me,' she whispered in his ear as her hands slid down the front of him and to the cock Claire told her about. 'Oh my! You be easy on that little girl. You can save the rough stuff for me,' she moaned, giving it a hard squeeze, thinking of something so big and long up her lonely, little pussy.
John closed his eyes, savoring Cindy's loving hands touching him after so many years of being around her. 'You feel so good!' he moaned, thinking of being inside his very beautiful and sexy sister-in-law.
'I want you to wear me fucking out!' Cindy growled as she sank her teeth into his neck. 'And, I want it hard!' she growled again, knowing that he needed to go get Jenny. 'Go love your daughter and then,' she purred in his ear, 'come and fuck your new whore!' she moaned, rubbing herself, wishing it was right now, on the table with his long, hard cock rammed deep in her pussy hole.
'You bitches are going to kill me!' John laughed as he stood up, grabbed Cindy in his arms, gave her a firm slap on her ass and left the room. 'Damn, I never thought I'd have too many girls after me!' he laughed, walking to Jenny's room.
*.
Jenny was lying on the bed in the pair of small, white panties, her heart racing out of control, knowing that he'd be there any second. 'I hope I make him happy,' she whispered, thinking of Daddy's massive cock and if she could take him. 'I have to. If I don't, that bitch Patti or Aunt Cindy will,' she said, thinking of him and Cindy flirting with each other the entire night.
Then, she heard his light tap on the door and he walked in. His eyes looking over her supple body, from her face, down to her breasts, until he smiled. 'Nice!' he whispered, enjoying the small panties on her hips, knowing that they would be lying on the floor in just a few minutes.
She just lay on the bed, her heart racing faster. 'Daddy, I'm scared,' she whispered, putting out her lip, and Jenny knew she couldn't back out now. She'd wanted this and here he was.
'You'll be ok,' he said, slipping his shirt off, tossing it on the floor and starting to pull off his jeans. 'Just relax and I'll take care of you,' he added, stepping from the jeans, watching a shocked and frightened look on Jenny's face. 'He's ready for this,' John smiled, walking towards Jenny, hoping she wasn't going to back out now, but if she did, Cindy was downstairs waiting for him.
Jenny couldn't believe just how hard Daddy was. She thought he was hard when they played on the front porch, but that was nothing compared to this. Daddy's cock was so hard and full of blood; it curved up, ready to take her.
He moved to the bed, pointing his cock to her warm, panting mouth. 'Suck it for Daddy,' he said, pushing the head to her mouth and wanting her to suck him. He stood, watching her just lying there, not moving or anything. 'Come on, baby,' he smiled, caressing the side of her face, hoping she wasn't going to back out.
'I'm so scared,' she whimpered as tears poured down her face, and Daddy was quickly lying with her, hugging her nice and tight. 'It's so big,' she cried, hoping that she could calm down. Jenny wanted this so badly, and she knew if she backed out now, it was surely the last time he'd mess with her.
'I'm not going to hurt you, baby,' he smiled, moving as close to her as he could get. 'I've loved a lot of women with this thing, and only one or two didn't like it,' he smiled, easing the massive piece of meat between her legs, making sure it was against Jenny's hot, virgin pussy. 'You're nice and wet,' he whispered, caressing her right breast with one hand, while the other slowly moved between her legs.
'Oh Daddy,' she moaned at his soft, loving touch, enjoying the feelings he always gave her. 'I want you in me so, so bad,' she whimpered, knowing it wasn't going to be very long until her dreams came true.
John carefully rolled Jenny on her back and moved over her. 'You're so pretty,' he smiled, giving his young, virgin daughter one last innocent kiss. 'Are you ready?' he whispered as he moved to the soft flesh of her neck, gently kissing, sucking, slowly positioning his stiff cock, and he bit her.
'Oh Daddy!' Jenny cried as his sharp teeth sank into her neck, and it happened. 'Daddy!' she cried again as his massive cock tore through her innocence and made her a woman. 'It hurts! Oh Daddy, it hurts!' Jenny moaned, hoping this would hurry and end. How could she have ever thought that she wanted him inside her? He was too big, and it felt as if she was being split in two pieces.
John bit her and shoved forward, taking Jenny's most special thing, and it felt good. He held her still, enjoying her tight pussy and muscles squeezing him so tightly. 'Easy,' he whispered as her body spasmed around him. 'Easy,' he whispered again as he kissed her as a woman. 'It'll stop in a few minutes,' he smiled, caressing her pain-filled face, and now he could wait to fuck her. 'Daddy's little girl is a woman now,' John smiled, kissing the tip of her perfect little nose, like he had hundreds of times before, but now he did it as he filled her pussy.
She smiled up to him, enjoying his soothing voice, the same voice that comforted her as a child, now did it as a woman. 'I love you, Daddy,' she smiled, and something wonderful started happening. The pain was fading away, and the burning that haunted her was coming back, deep in her pussy. 'We're together, Daddy. You're inside me just like I've been dreaming for so long,' Jenny said with a smile as the burning grew more.
'And,' John said, kissing her, 'the best is still to come,' he added, knowing she was ready. He needed to give this hot woman a good, long fuck. 'I'm going to fuck my baby girl now,' he moaned, feeling a warm rush of excitement covering him.
'Oh yes!' Jenny moaned, arching her back. 'Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck my hot pussy, make it all better,' she begged him, knowing her Daddy was going to make all the suffering go away.
John slowly moved back and forth, enjoying her pussy squeezing him and her soft moans of pleasure. 'Daddy's big girl,' he whispered as his cock slid in and out of her tiny hole. 'You feel so fucking good!' John moaned, hoping that he had something left for the woman downstairs that also wanted him.
'I'll always be yours,' Jenny whimpered, enjoying his girth stretching her once, virgin so wide, but it was such an amazing feeling, she didn't want it to end. 'Go, Daddy! Fuck me! Fuck your girl!' she cried as his pace quickened. 'My wonderful Daddy!' Jenny moaned as the sounds of a man loving his woman filled her ears. It was a sound that she wanted to hear again and again. 'Oh yes! Oh Daddy!' she cried, squirming under him, wishing that she was more adept in the art of loving a man, but Jenny was very, very sure he would come to her more.
'I'm going to fuck you every chance we have,' he moaned, pumping her tiny pussy with long and very deep thrusts, hoping he didn't hurt Jenny, but he needed to cum. She'd been driving him nuts since she started developing. Her full breasts, her slender waist, the ass John loved to watch and her seductive hips, but all the wanting was over, she was his.
'Ahh yes! I want you all the time!' Jenny moaned, lifting her hips to his incoming cock, giving them both more breathtaking sensations than ever. 'It's so good!' she cried, enjoying the feel of his cock pushing to her core. The same cock that made her twenty years ago, and now, it was Jenny's. 'Fuck me harder!' she grunted, wanting to please him and ensure that he knew where to come for love. 'Fuck me, Daddy!' Jenny cried, not caring if anyone heard or not.
John couldn't believe that Jenny was taking him this easily and was begging for him to do it harder. 'I want you on your knees,' he said, carefully easing from her stretched and bleeding pussy. 'I love fucking from behind, and I'll get to see,' he paused, watching his daughter turn, get on her knees and move her lovely ass to him, 'this!' he moaned as he caressed the beautiful ass he loved watching so much.
'Anything for my Daddy,' she whispered as he slid back into her pussy, and it was great. 'Oh Daddy! It feels so good!' Jenny moaned as he pushed deeper, lifting her from the bed with his swollen cock. 'Fuck me! Fuck me like a whore! I'm Daddy's whore!' Jenny cried as John did as she asked, fucking her as hard and as deep as he could.
'My God!' he moaned, fucking his once innocent daughter just as if she were a common whore off the street, and she loved it. 'I'm going to be in this every chance I have,' John said, looking down to watch his stiff cock sliding in and out of her body. 'It looks so good seeing it in you,' he said as he continued watching his stiff cock taking Jenny.
'I'm all yours. Do anything you want to me,' she moaned, wishing that she could see his face and the pleasure on it. 'Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my pussy!' Jenny moaned, laying her upper body on the bed, leaving her ass high in the air for Daddy to fuck her anyway that he wanted.
John held her hips, fucking her with long and very deep thrusts, knowing he wasn't going to last much longer. 'I'm going to fill you with so much cum,' he moaned, and something came to mind.He didn't have any protection and knew Jenny wasn't on the pill. 'Oh fuck!' he thought, wondering if it would matter as he continued. He had heard stories of fathers fucking daughters and having very deformed babies, but they were having way too much fun to stop.
'Oh yes! Do it!' Jenny growled, thinking of Daddy shooting his warm cum up her pussy and just how great it was going to feel. 'Cum in me!' she begged, moving back and forth with his deep thrusts in her. 'Cum up my pussy! Fill it full, Daddy!' Jenny cried, wondering how it was going to feel having the same cum that made her filling her pussy.
'You're so nasty,' he laughed, pushing into her, knowing she was going to be so fun. All those lonely nights were over. From now on, he'd be with Jenny. 'Oh baby,' he whispered, holding her tighter, pushing deeper, and it happened. 'Oh fuck! Baby!' John moaned out as his big cock released, squirting cum deep into his daughter's body and committing the worst sin ever. It was bad enough that he was fucking his own flesh and blood, now he was cumming in her too.
'Yes Daddy!' Jenny squealed as his hot seeds shot into her, and it couldn't have felt better. Her Daddy was now her lover. 'Daddy, I'm cumming too!' she cried as her pussy clamped down on him and she came hard. Jenny's body shook, her heart pumped like never before, and it felt like fire was racing through her veins. 'Oh Daddy,' she moaned, collapsing on the bed with his long, hard cock still deep in her. 'That was crazy!' she giggled, hoping it would be that good every single time. | 4 |
79,388 | First Time Feminised | 'You look very feminine, Claire, sexy and every inch a pretty young girl. Have you been cross-dressing all your life?'
'No, Max, the idea never even crossed my mind till a couple of years back. Would you like to hear how it happened?'
'I'd love to.'
'Well, you go and fill those glasses up, and I'll tell you about it.'
The pub was getting more crowded now, and while he was at the bar I shifted my chair so it was closer to his and we would be able to talk without being overheard. A guy asked nicely and took the third chair away to another table, which suited me.
I took a sip of my white wine and started in.
'I left school at sixteen and took up an engineering apprenticeship at the Aircraft Factory. That was September three years ago. I had been a good footballer at school, and almost immediately was in the works team, which played in the Sunday Leagues. I am very fast and have good ball-control skills, and I was soon a key player with my ability to get behind the defense and cross the ball from the bye-line. Nearly all our goals came from my crosses, and I also took all the corners and free kicks around the penalty area, so I was a popular guy with the rest of the team, especially the strikers, despite being six inches smaller, three stones lighter, and ten years younger than the rest of them. They were all very nice to me and I became almost the team mascot.
It was largely down to me that at the end of the season we had won promotion. We always had a few beers after the Sunday match, but to celebrate our Champion status our Captain, Simon Harker, said we should all go out for a meal together the next Friday, chosen so we would not have to worry about getting up for work the next day.'
'I know Simon Harker. Tall, muscular, good-looking guy with wavy dark hair, in Personnel Department.'
'That's the guy. So come the Friday evening it was down to The Golden Lion in Market Square at eight o'clock and a real beery session with the whole team, our Manager, and a couple of guys who had played occasionally. We were a big, noisy, and very boozy crowd. By ten thirty we were all drunk when Simon Harker told us it was time to go to the Taj Mahal where he had reserved a table for fifteen. Looking back I feel sorry for the other diners that evening as along with the curry we had a lot more beer, were very noisy, and getting drunker by the minute.
We had finished our meal by midnight, by which time all the pubs were closed: this was before twenty-four hour licensing came in. Simon suggested we all go down to The Criterion, a club where we could get more beer and might even pull a few girls. Most of the crowd had had enough and got cabs to go home, but five of us staggered off to the club. The Bouncer at the door took one look at us, decided we were far too drunk, and would not let us in. There was a bit of argument but then Simon Harker suggested we go back to his flat and have some beers there. He said his wife was away at her mother's so that was no problem. He lived in one of those new flats near St James' so it was only a five minute walk, or stagger.'
'Nice flats those.'
'Yes, and his is a big one on the top floor, views across the town. Anyway, he opened some more bottles for us, but before I even touched mine I had dozed off on the sofa.
When I woke up everyone had gone except me and Simon. I was still drunk, and badly wanted a piss. I went to the bathroom, unloaded and washed my face with cold water, feeling better by the time I sat down again on the sofa, still drunk, but ready to drink my bottle now, still on the side table. Simon came and sat beside me. He was well-drunk and as he sprawled there his body touched mine, and stayed there. I scarcely noticed, but thought for a second that most guys would have shifted away a bit so as not to touch.
He started a monologue about his troubles. His wife was not at Torquay with her mother as she said, but probably with her lover somewhere in this very town. Her mother had actually phoned him yesterday to ask how she was, so he knew his wife was lying. She had a lover somewhere, the bitch. He seemed close to tears, drunk as he was, and I felt sorry for him despite being embarrassed by his confessions: he was a grown man and me hardly more than a boy, and I still had to listen to all this. He put his hand on my thigh, gripping it, as he told me how he gave her everything she wanted, nice home, good clothes, everything, but it was never enough. Then with his hand still on my thigh, he put his arm round my shoulder and started to pour into my young ear how unsatisfactory their sex life was, how his wife never came and did not really want it, how it was just "missionary position" in-out and off and nothing else, no pussy-sucking and no cock-sucking, and he would not dare even to suggest anal. She was a real sexual prude but he had suspected she was having an affair, and now he was now certain she was. On and on it went. He was nearly weeping into my shoulder, and I could hear the anguish in his voice as he sobbed, his hand gripping my thigh, his arm pulling me close to him.
I felt sorry for this big, strong, handsome man who any woman would fancy, I thought, reduced to such a mess. I put my hand over his, on my knee, and squeezed it to show sympathy. He must have interpreted the gesture as meaning something quite different, because before I knew what was happening his lips were on mine in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. I must have tensed, but to tell the truth I had very little real human contact, human warmth at that time, and the kiss was not at all unpleasant. I had no girlfriend, and had never had one, and certainly no boyfriend so this was my first sexual kiss. I let him put his tongue in my mouth, and he must have hugged me for a couple of minutes, before he stopped.
'Oh Carl, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me.'
'No problem Si, I liked it really.'
'You look so pretty, so feminine even. And your lips looked so kissable I could not help myself. Your lips so full, your body so smooth and feminine in the showers....' His voice died away.
I knew I had a pretty body, not very masculine, but certainly pretty. I was slender, still am thank goodness and daily gym...but fit, and with my youthful blonde complexion my body was smooth, tanned, and nearly hairless. I was hairless naturally: I had seen him in the showers too, and he was waxed so his torso was smooth, and he was hairless, belly, back, sack and crack as they say. But nothing feminine about him!
'I want to kiss you again.'
This time I reciprocated and slipped my tongue into his mouth while he held me close. We did not touch each other's cocks, though I found myself wondering if his was hard like mine.
'So pretty, so feminine. would you do something for me?'
'What, Simon?'
'Wait there a minute.'
I took a swig of beer. I was still drunk, but this was moving in a strange and a bit alarming direction.
When he came back it was to drop an armful of lingerie in my lap. 'Put these on for me, Carl. I would so like to see you in them. nothing more, I promise.' He lurched a bit. 'I'll wait in the kitchen, and come in when you're dressed.'
I was distinctly nervous taking my shoes and clothes off, and nearly decided not to go ahead with this, but I picked up the lingerie, and it felt good between my fingers, so light and flimsy. I sniffed at it and it smelled slightly of lavender. I decided to go ahead and took my underpants off too. You must forgive me if I do the transvestite thing and describe in detail the things he wanted me to put on: we just can't resist that, and when one tranny meets another the talk is often of clothes! They were not new stockings, but they had no ladders and were long enough to come almost up to my crotch when I pulled them up. I ran my fingers up them and it felt good, looked good too, charcoal black and glossy. I had a bit of a problem with the suspender belt till I realised that I could fasten it at the front, and then slide it round my body so it was the right way round, catch at the back and black satin bow at the front. I fixed the front clips easily, but the back straps were the usual fight. Still are! There was a long mirror at the end of the rather minimally furnished room and I looked at myself. The flimsy black lace looked good I decided, and I posed and could see that my legs had become quite feminine. I slipped the panties up over my hard cock, and worried a bit that drops of precum would spoil them. But these, really just a thong at the back between my bottom cheeks and a little strip of black lace with a nearly transparent black nylon panel at the front, not only looked good they felt good as I stroked my cock through the nylon. I felt my naked arse cheeks and wondered what it would feel like to have nylon over my arse as well as cradling my balls. I soon worked out that the tiny, black lace bra, was best fastened first and then stepped into.It was nice and tight across my nipples, though I had no tits, of course, to fill the small cups. His wife must have been about my build, I thought, and with tiny tits.
'Are you ready, Carl?'
'Yes, Si.'
He came in, still fully dressed. I half expected him to be in his underwear or naked or something, and to be honest, I was just a little bit disappointed, though mostly relieved. This was all moving a bit fast for me.
'God! You look lovely.' He was sitting beside me again, and we were kissing even more passionately. He had his hands all over my legs, bottom, and especially my nipples through the fine lace. 'You're so pretty and feminine. Just like a girl.' He kissed me again.
'Oh, Carl, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, and I shouldn't be doing this. I'm so sorry. I think we must be drunk.'
'Don't worry, Si. Just a bit of harmless fun. No need to apologize.'
'But you do look so...,' he hesitated, 'so sexy....'
I knew he was hard, and I was hard too. But neither of us dared do anything about it. He wanted me, and without knowing in quite what way, I wanted him. But nothing happened. He apologized again, and we went to bed, me in the double bed, and him on a divan in the spare room. I was still bladdered, and I just pulled the sheets over my head and went out like a light.
I woke up in the morning with a sore head, wanting a piss, wondering where I was and how I came to be wearing lingerie and stockings. It was just gradually coming back to me when Simon came in with a tray and two coffees. He was just wearing tight, pale blue cotton undershorts, hugging his body. He looked so handsome, I thought, tanned and completely waxed hairless, broad shoulders and narrow hips, a lovely smile, and that floppy, wavy, dark hair.
'Jeez! You still look great, Carl, even when I'm sober.'
'Don't feel great.'
'Get this black coffee down you, have a shower, and we'll see how we feel then!'
I had my pee and shower. I didn't need to shave back then, once a week was quite enough with my blonde complexion and really undeveloped body: still is really! There was a toothbrush still in its cellophane, so I used that and began to feel quite civilized. I wondered whether to put the stockings and lingerie on again. It was tempting as I had enjoyed the look and feel, but I was still a bit embarrassed and decided not to. So I was naked when I went back into the room. Simon had finished his coffee and was laying propped up on the bed, still in his underpants, but I could see his cock outlined and erect now. I felt mine stirring at the sight of him, so masculine and handsome. Also, he had laid out on the bed wonderful things!
I could see a white satin basque with pastel blue trim (same pastel color as his underpants as it happened), white panties, proper satin panties this time, white glossy nylons, fully fashioned, white high-heeled shoes, a blonde shoulder-length wig, and most wonderful of all, a box with a wedding dress half in it and half draped over it.
'Please do this for me, Carl. You'll look wonderful in these. Please!'
His voice was almost desperate as he implored me, and I had a brief impression of what it must have cost him to beg me, of how much he really wanted to fulfill this fantasy. I held the dress up against my naked body for a second, looking in the mirror. It would certainly fit! And I quite liked the idea: Simon was an all-round nice guy, and I had certainly enjoyed his embraces the night before, as far as I remembered them through the beer-haze.
'OK.'
'Wonderful! Lovely. I'll wait outside while you dress. The shoes will fit. I've checked, and there's some makeup on her dressing table. I'll wait. Call me when you're ready.
I made him wait rather a long time, almost half an hour. The basque was tight, and I found it difficult to fasten, but finally, I managed, and it fitted perfectly. With this one, I really need tits, so I hunted around in his wife's drawers, finding some really lovely sexy lingerie as I did so. I spent a few moments looking, feeling, yes, and pressing the silk to my cheeks and cock. Finally, I crumpled up two pairs of pink satin knickers, one for each breast, and they filled the basque out nicely. The stockings were marvelous, silky and slinky, and with the high-heels on, I felt, and looked, so feminine and sexy as I admired myself in the mirror. My cock was standing as hard as it could ever be, and looked so good along with all that femininity it almost seemed a shame to pull on the white panties, with their blue bow at the front, but I did, of course. I tried to put on the dress, but the zip and catch at the back were beyond me. I took it off again and instead varnished my nails a very bright red. This was easier than I thought it would be, and I reckoned I had made a good job of it. I hardly needed any makeup as my smooth skin is almost feminine, and I was sun-tanned, but I dabbed on a bit of powder and lipsticked my lips to match my scarlet nails. I noticed it was guaranteed "non-smudge". Good as I was beginning to look forward to kissing Simon again.
I found it was easier than I expected to walk about naturally on the heels. It was fun too, looking at my ankles and legs in the mirror.
She had perfumes on the dressing-table, and I chose one I had heard of and dabbed it behind my ears...and as an afterthought in the crease of my arse.
There was just the wig. This was easy too, but it needed brushing a bit to make it shine and fall nicely to my shoulders. There was a paste tiara in the dress box, and I slipped it over the wig: it would help to hold it in place, and looked very bridal I thought. I stepped into the dress again, holding it up to my tits as I looked in the mirror. I was astounded! I was a pretty young girl, hundred percent girlie, and would pass anywhere as a sexy little teenager! I called out to Simon.
'Jeez! You are fantastic!'
'You'll have to zip up my dress for me.'
'Of course!' I felt his lips on the back of my neck, and then the catch and zip closed, the dress tight over my false bosom. 'Feel and smell lovely. And just look in the mirror, Carl.'
'Can't call me Carl dressed like this!' I laughed. I was even beginning to act girlish. 'How about Claire?'
It is amazing how cross-dressing changes your character: I was beginning even to sound a bit like a girl: voice too deep of course, but flirtatious and giggly.
'Kiss me, Claire, darling. My little virgin bride.'
I had been looking forward to this, and like last night, I melted into his arms, and we stood by the bed kissing. I could not help looking over his shoulder at myself in the mirror, a beautiful bride, but also at his triangular, tanned back and hard little butt in those figure-hugging trunks. I raised my leg between us, and felt him grip it between his thighs.
I deliberately tipped us over towards the bed, and we were laying on it, me on my back and Simon half on top of me. He was whispering non-stop, soft love about his bride, his little candy girl, his sweet lover, how feminine and how pretty I was, how he had dreamed of this...all very exciting to me as I stroked and caressed his shoulders and shaven chest. Then greatly daring, I allowed my hand to brush the front of his underpants. He was hard, and I longed to feel it, and finally, I found the courage to grasp his prick through the soft cotton. It felt like steel, and as he groaned his pleasure, without thinking at all, I bent over and closed my mouth on the length of the shaft, still decently inside his pants. I was in a state, heart racing, cock twitching, and still without thinking what I was doing, I had his cock out, long and strong and hairless, and "cut" like mine, with a wonderful strong, flaring knob, and I kissed it, tasting pre-cum for the first time in my young life. I wanted more, and despite all the insults I had heard used of other people, in that instant I became a "cock-sucker", my lips over that firm knob, and the shaft sliding down to meet my palate. I wanted it, lord how I wanted it, and I sucked and rubbed, sucked and rubbed, while he held my head, hands on my blonde wig, guiding my movement. He tried to warn me he was coming, but I would have none of that and made him come in my mouth, filling it with spurt after spurt of slippery hot cum. I found I was trying to murmur "lovely! lovely! lovely!" as my mouth was filled, and I swallowed and swallowed.
Now it was his turn, and he had his head right up under the hem of my wedding dress. It must have been dark under that heavy satin and brocade, but his hand had my cock out of my panties, and I felt his mouth warm and wet on my knob, and then the shaft as my cock slid down into his mouth. I was dimly aware of his hands caressing my buttocks and nylon-ed thighs, and then grasping my cock and gently squeezing my balls as he sucked and licked at me. I lay back in ecstasy, and could not help looking in the mirror at us. I could see his cock, and he was still erect! Amazing after the power of his coming. And I felt so feminine, the object of his passion. 'Claire', I thought. 'Claire giving herself to her man on her wedding night.' And with that thought, I came. Like me, he swallowed every drop.
Then, laying side-by-side, we were telling each other how good it had been, and he was undoing the clasp and zip on my dress and taking it off me. I lay on my back as he drew my panties down: I must have looked a dream in blonde wig and bridal stockings and basque. I felt him bend my legs back, and then he was applying lube to my arse-crease, sliding a finger into my anus. I wanted this: I wanted to be his, to lose my virginity to this handsome, powerful, demanding male.I knew it would hurt, but in fact I was so relaxed and submissive now, so prepared for the final act of love, that there was almost no discomfort even. His cock slid easily up into me, and I lay there quietly while he fucked me. He had already emptied his balls into my mouth, but he was so hyper-excited that it did not take more than a minute or two, and I was aware he was coming deep inside me. The thought that I was no longer a virgin, that in fact I was no longer completely male, was so strange that I felt myself coming again, and I squirted all over my lovely white basque.
We lay there, astounded both of us by what had happened. Life would never be the same again for either of us now. We had tasted the fruits of long-forbidden pleasure, and there was no going back.
He wanted me to stay all day Sunday and Sunday night too. I agreed on the understanding I would be dressed as Claire all the time.
In the afternoon we went into town, me in borrowed blue jeans, top and flats, my wig and makeup turning me into an attractive girl, perhaps a young wife out with her husband, and I felt so proud to be on the arm of this handsome, confident man. Somehow I was more aware of my own body, and not only my bottom I should add, which was still a bit sore, but which was a constant reminder of what we had dared to do, and the new bond between us. We bought my own lingerie, shoes, and a few dresses, skirts and tops. Yes, and two wigs, one long blonde, and the other shorter auburn, some "sensible" shoes and some unashamedly sexy ones. And some perfume and makeup. A wonderful shopping trip. Then a meal (McDonald's!) and home to watch some porn he had (mostly male and transsexual which shows it was a real compulsion for him!) and then to bed, me in a black see-through nightie. He fucked me twice during the night!
And that, Max, is how I discovered my transsexuality.
'What happened with his wife?'
'When we got back from work Monday afternoon, I heard him phone her and tell her he knew she was having an affair and wasn't within two hundred miles of her mother's in Torquay, and that he wanted a divorce, amicable if possible. He did not regard himself as wronged, he said, 'it was just one of the things that happens'. They agreed he would pack up her things: she could keep the car, could come round for the cases Thursday evening, and take them away to her lover. I stayed out of the way till late Thursday, and Friday evening we packed up my few belongings, I left my bed-sitter and moved in with him. We lived as man and wife for about a year.
'Then?'
'Then I started to get bored with him, and to cap it I met Sir Clive. He's much more elegant, older of course but very virile, and he had enough money to be able to afford an expensive mistress...me. He set me up in my Marlborough Buildings flat, and later actually gave the deeds to me. He's very generous with clothes, jewelry and even cash. I'm in clover, Max.'
'Are you risking all that with me, Claire?'
'Lord no. He loves threesomes. In fact, if you would like to drink up, we can stroll round to my flat and he'll be waiting. I'll give him a call to tell him to expect a handsome young man too!'
'Ok. Sounds good. But will he want to. I mean I've never...'
'Fuck you? No. But he will want you to suck him off while you fuck me. And that's just starters. You'd better take one of these before we leave. It's going to be a long night.' He watched me unpop one of the blue pills for myself, and swallowed the other one himself like a lamb. | 5 |
79,391 | Big Issue Boy | 'Big Issue, Mister. Big Issue, sir.'
Usually I just ignore them, no eye contact, nothing, and I had already been solicited twice in the two hundred yards between the restaurant and my car. I had my umbrella up, which was another reason for just walking past.
'Big Issue.'
However, there was something about this boy, who seemed young to be selling the street magazine. He looked no older than fourteen, but he must have been sixteen or the organizers of the rag would not have allowed him to hawk it. And he was undeniably pretty: dirty and scruffy, yes, but I have an artist's eye and I know beauty when I see it even when it is masked by the grime of street-sleeping and tatty, worn-out clothes. He was blonde and had near-shoulder-length hair, in rat-tails because of the rain and greasy, unwashed. He had the blonde's typical complexion, clear and sun-tanned, blue eyes, and surprisingly white teeth. His lips were full and sensuous. I doubted if he had to shave much yet, if at all. He was slight and not much more than five foot three or four I should think, slender arms and his legs looked long and slim in too-brief shorts. He was sheltering in the doorway of Lloyds Bank, but had been in the rain, and his grubby t-shirt, once white but now grey, had become damp and showed his nipples very clearly. Those shorts, faded denim and torn at the leg, were too tight as well. They were frayed at the groin, and a tantalizing glimpse of pink flesh resulted and stopped me in my tracks.
You could tell by the clear, unblemished skin on his arms and legs that if he was into drugs, at least he was not main-lining.
He had great potential, and my photographer's eye took that in immediately. A boy, still, but with something of the feminine about him, even in his voice and his smile as I took a coin from my pocket.
'Thank you, mister.' The voice was accentless, and I guessed he had seen better times, a middle-class lad come up to the city to find the good life, and finding it a great deal tougher than he had expected. I wondered if he had yet started selling his young body to the men who would appreciate it. I doubted it: he would have been cleaner and better dressed if he had started working as a rent boy. That would come, doubtless.
I shoved the magazine in my pocket and turned to walk away. On an afterthought, I turned again and handed him a card from my pocket.
'You can keep the change...' In fact, he had not offered me the ten pence change. 'But if you want to earn some real money, call me on that number.' I saw him stuff the card into his hip pocket.
'Big Issue...'
I turned the corner and threw the mag into a bin.
I am a photographer, but six years ago, as soon as I saw where the internet was leading, I started to set up web sites....pay for porn. I produce my own photosets and videos, and some of my models are eager amateurs I don't have to pay. Others I pay. But all in all it's a very good living, and keeps me in some style. The filming is amusing as well!
It was Sunday morning that the phone rang.
The voice on the other end was hesitant, well-spoken but full of doubt. 'You said I could earn real money...'
'Fifty pounds and hour for about four hours.'
'What will I have to do?'
I guessed he already knew or suspected what some of the duties would be! 'I will want you to dress up while I take some photographs, and then we have sex together and I take some more.'
'For four hours?'
'At least. May be more.' I didn't add that if he was good it could well be all night: I'm a randy old bugger and use viagra!
There was a long silence: good, as the hesitation confirmed my guess that he was not yet a rent boy, might even be a virgin. Then, 'When do you want me?'
'Four o'clock. The address is on my card. Don't be late.'
Because I too would figure in the photograph and video recording session, I had dressed myself in my dinner jacket, Rolex watch, cufflinks, pearl shirt buttons, the full gear! I am big built but fit and look good in formal dress.
The doorbell rang at exactly four, and I guessed he had been early and waited outside as the hand on his cheap watch moved round. Good! I wanted an obedient lad tonight! But he looked a mess. It was still raining, as it had been for days, and he looked bedraggled as well as grimy, a real street urchin.
I had him leave his trainers at the door. 'First you are to take a bath. Wash your hair too.' I touched his face with my hand. 'And you may as well have a shave, though there's not much hair is there? There's an electric razor in the cabinet in the bathroom. When you've done, use the hairdryer and come through wearing the bathrobe hanging on the door.'
It took him the best part of an hour, but when he emerged he was transformed. Sexy before, he was devastating now. But I managed to keep my hands off him for the time being. The towel bathrobe was too big for him, and with his slender figure, blue eyes, and peaches-and-cream complexion he seemed very small and vulnerable. He would film well!
'Drink?'
'Please?'
'Wine, or vodka or scotch.'
'Uh, vodka, please. And coke if you've got some.'
I poured him a triple vodka and topped the glass up with coke. A small whiskey for me.
'Cheers! And swallow one of these, too.'
'They viagra?'
'Sure. One each. The longer we go on the more you earn...'
I had a quick look at my wristwatch. Ten to five, which meant the pill would trip in at about half-past five. Photo-session till then....
'What's your name?'
'Terry.'
'I'm Mr McPherson. You've finished your drink. Another?' He had swallowed it in one!
'Please, Mr McPherson.' I poured him another triple and topped it up with coke. It would help if he was a bit tipsy when it came to the sex, and especially if he really was a virgin.
'Get into these, Terry, and I'll set up the lights.' I switched a dimmer on the wall, and as the lights started to come on, so five hidden cameras whirred silently into action. Two were set to show different views of the room, one more was focused on the settee, one was overhead, and one would follow any movement, periodically zooming in and out. My final video for websites would involve cutting and editing, pasting bits from each camera into a whole film of the dressing, undressing, and sex with this boy.
I enjoy watching a boy dress almost as much as stripping him. I was right about this one. He undid the belt on the bathrobe, and as it fell open my eyes were drawn to his midriff. Tanned all over with no tan-lines (must have been spending lots of time on our nudist beach sunny days), nice flat belly. And that cock, still not the weapon of an adult man but no longer a boy's, would look good on film. It was cut and very pretty, and with a fringe of hair at the base, a darker gold than the hair of his head, the slender shaft almost the same tanned colour as his belly. He was looking at the carpet unwilling to meet my eyes, which must have been full of lust. Good! A chaste and modest boy would film well and would be all the better for sex when the time came. He was shy and turned round, giving me a view of a sun-tanned bottom, slightly boyish and still a bit rounded and shapely, not quite the angularity of an adult male. I like finding teen boys, as they still have something of the feminine about them and make the sort of convincing transvestites my punters are willing to pay good money to see.
I had sorted out a green satin basque, with white lace trim, matching thong and fully-fashioned black stockings, sexy Cuban-heeled and glossy. His trainers (ugh!) had told me he took size six, and I found sexy sandals, high-heeled, strappy and gold, to fit him. Over all would go a slinky, thigh-length dress, itself in deep green silk.
My professional models (trannies from the clubs mostly) always put on a basque, suspender-belt too, by fastening it up down the front, and then pulling it round their body so that the catches and loops are properly down the back. He tried to do it up arms reaching round the back: no good! I helped him into the basque, standing behind him and fastening the twenty or so little catches. I treated myself to a quick grope of that firm little bottom, nearly as tanned as his back. He flinched momentarily when I touched him, and my suspicion he was an innocent first-timer seemed confirmed. I felt my cock stiffening at the prospect.
I had to show him how to use the breast forms, reaching over his shoulders to slip them down into the cups of his basque, and letting my cock touch his arse as I did so. He would not need a wig as, washed, dried and brushed, his blonde hair hung to his shoulders, and shone, sexy and the most feminine thing about him.I finished fixing the last of the lights as he put on the stockings, managing well with the clasps at the front, but failing again with those at the back. His seams were nice and straight, though, making his legs look very feminine, and I fastened the difficult clasps for him, rewarding myself again with a feel of his bottom, this time a bit deeper into the crack of his arse. I turned him round to face me, but still he would not meet my eyes. He was looking at my crotch where my bulge must have been evident, and his interest promised a rewarding evening for me, for both of us probably. He was hard too, and I guessed the girlie clothes were fulfilling a fantasy (I was sure he had not been secretly trying on mother's or sister's clothes like so many, perhaps most little boys. He would have been handier with the suspender clasps and the basque catches if he had indulged in a bit of closet cross-dressing. But his hard-on told me he was a natural transvestite. And his sideways looks at me told me he had gay desires too, probably bisexual. Or maybe not yet differentiated. In which case this Sunday afternoon might well sway him towards the homo as opposed to the hetero!)
His bum was beautiful as he bent over to put on the high-heeled shoes, and they did wonders for already sexy and feminine legs. He looked a bit unsure standing in them, but that would come.
'Your complexion is so good, all you need is a dab of powder. Oh, and this of course.' I applied a sexy, tarty red lipstick. 'Don't lick your lips for a minute or two and it will set, non-smudge you see. There. Look at yourself in the mirror, Terry.'
'A girl fit for a millionaire. Very nice!' Like me, he was rock hard now, his cock making a tent in the shiny green silk. Without prompting, he took up poses, admiring himself in the mirror.
'Now don't tell me, Terry, you've never dressed before. You're a natural.'
'Never. But these feel good.' He ran his hands up stockinged legs, and over his bottom, always looking in the long mirror. He walked across the room, looking over his shoulder and admiring himself. He seemed surprisingly steady in his high-heels now after only a few minutes.
'Well, slip this gown on, and you'll look the real thing.'
The gown flowed over him, and he really did look like a young girl dressed for her first real evening out! A teenager at the High School Prom.
'Now you start earning that bread! Smile for the camera!'
The smile was tentative and shy, but all the better for that, and I took a dozen of him in the gown from all angles, and even lounging on the white leather settee. As he got used to me, the shyness began to lift, and I managed to make him laugh, getting some great shots, which I would use to start the photoset for my sites. I always start a photoset with posed "studio" type pictures, including close-ups of the face, showing how really feminine the tranny is. But we soon move on to sexier matters, and I had him lounging and showing lots of lovely, feminine leg, stocking tops and a bulge at the silken crotch. Then kneeling with the hem of the dress pulled up, stocking tops again and a hint of the pert bum. As well as my digital still camera, the video cameras would be getting all this, though I would only be using a minute or two to start the final film. Time, now, for some flesh. I had him unzip the back of his dress and hold it loose around his tits for a few pics, and then drop it to his ankles, in a pool of green silk. He was entering into the spirit now, and smiled as he shook the dress from around his ankles and took up a cheesecake pose. I zoomed in on tits, and then bulging crotch.
Time for the dinner-jacketed fat-cat to enter the film. I left a couple of still cameras to click away, each every twenty seconds when I went over to join him as he sat now on the settee. I really ought to have a third guy here to take these pics I thought: these would probably do, with some freeze-frames from the videos but they might not be great. Old Mr Cohen would probably pay to be the photographer...that was a thought.... but he would be no good filmed, too old, fat and ugly!
I stood so I was side-on to the cameras, and just in front of the pretty boy-girl.
'Unzip me, Terry, and take it out for me.'
He was clumsy with the zip, and getting my hard cock out through the front of my boxer shorts, but that would look good on the video, showing he was not practised in it, innocent.
'I expect you know what men like their little girls to do, Terry?'
'I think so, Mr McPherson.' He was holding my cock in both hands, and he bent his lips towards it. I love that moment when a tranny closes her lip-sticked lips over my knob, and if she is young and pretty like this one it is heaven. I let him suck and lick me for a few minutes, but staying well short of coming.
'You can undress me now, Terry.'
I have a good body as I have plenty of time to work out and enjoy my sessions at the gym. So I am muscular and a fat-free zone. Also, I have my body completely waxed, so I am smooth. In fact, years ago I had permanent electrolysis done on my "back, sack and crack" so the waxing is quite easy and non-painful! Anyway, I'm quite good enough to star in my own videos, which is amusing and also saves costs!
I think he...she!... was surprised I had tied my own bow-tie, but she pulled it undone, and went to work popping the dress-shirt buttons. I was amused as she tentatively treated herself to a quick feel of my pecs. I was right that this street arab was at least bisexual in orientation. 'It's all right, Terry, you're allowed to touch,' I laughed.
She pulled my dress shirt loose from my cummerbund and laid it carefully on a chair with the tie. I could see her looking at me but with eyes that would not meet mine. She was still shy, and all the more desirable to me. I pulled her to me and kissed her, for myself as much as for the benefit of the cameras. My cock, sticking from my trousers, pressed against her and she wriggled as I fondled her bottom, hands caressing the tight satin. She started to undo the clips and belt at my waist, and then remembered she had to take off shoes and socks first. She knelt to do this, and before getting up again had grasped my cock once more, and swallowed the full length, looking up at me, and for the first time meeting my gaze directly. I could see the desire and pleasure in her blue eyes as she sucked and gobbled, tickling my balls as she sucked. I held her head for a second or two, fine blonde hair between my fingers, before I lifted her off me. It took only a moment for her to help me out of my trousers and shorts, and I was naked for the cameras. I turned, to give a good profile shot of my erect penis, and was confident one camera would have zoomed in on it as I shook it with my right hand so as not to obscure the shot.
The lube was on the side-table, and I tore a packet open, greasing my cock. The tranny was so clearly a virgin that I did not bother with a condom; bare-backing her would be a rare treat for myself and for visitors to my website.
'Lay down, Terry.'
I stood over her, looking down and rubbing the slippery lube up and down my cock.
'Take them off, your panties.'
She was still hard, and her cock was very pretty. I promised myself a good long suck later.
'Don't hurt me. Please, Mr McPherson.'
'Your first time?'
She nodded, eyes averted, shyly.
'I thought so. No, It won't hurt if you do as I say.'
It would hurt of course: always does first time. But I would probably be able to make it "Hurt Good" just as Joshua, the Head Boy, had when he fucked me the first time, and me much younger than this boy.
She was unresisting as I grasped her ankles, and bent her legs back over her, her arsehole coming into view: I thought I could hear a camera zooming in on the movement as I applied the residue of the silk-lube to the nice puckered rose. Her legs and bottom were deep-tanned, but between her thighs and in the very crease of her arse she was white and soft, her anus a lovely pink-brown, tight and inviting. I supported her legs on my shoulders savouring for a second the feel of the glossy nylon against my neck. Her arsehole glistened with the grease as I applied my knob to it.
'Push out, don't suck in. Push out as if you are taking a dump.'
She turned her face sideways, averting her gaze from me, as I pushed and the knob slipped into her. There was a look of anguish on her face, but she did not protest or cry out. It might have been the thought of the pay giving her courage, but more likely she had been wanting this for a long age, but never daring to do it. I pushed again and my cock slipped easily into her until my body rested against her. I felt her anus contract, gripping me tightly for a second and then relaxing. She was still looking away as I started to fuck her with long, slow sweeps.
After a bit I found I could rest my weight on her legs and on her belly, freeing my hands to feel her hard, enticing body. I pulled the straps of her basque down over her shoulders and her nipples were brown and hairless: as I fingered them they became hard little nuts between fingers and thumbs. Later I would suck these, I promised myself, yes and that cock and tight balls-sack. Her cock was stiffening again, and I knew I must be pressing the right spot inside her with each thrust. As I looked down a drop of cum appeared in the eye of her prick and ran down over the flaring helmet: yes, I would suck that too.
She groaned involuntarily, and now it was with pleasure, or at least pleasure mixed with pain. I increased the pace and vigour of my thrusts, and her cock waved about between us. She reached down and started to masturbate, but I flicked her wrist with my hand and said "No" very firmly. I did not want her to cum.That was for my mouth in a few minutes. And I did not want cum all over that basque: that would mean having to wash it before the next photo session with it. And these satin pretties are never quite the same once they have been washed. But I was not far from coming, and she was looking directly at me with a dreamy look in her eyes like a satisfied animal. Her hips were rising and falling ever so slightly to meet mine. I knew she was enjoying it now, just as I had that first time so many years before.
I think she knew I was coming without my saying so. Probably she could read the special look on my face, almost of pain, that the male has as he comes, or perhaps she could feel my cock swell just a bit more as the orgasm rose, or perhaps she could feel the first gush of hot cum inside her as I emptied my balls into her. It was good for me and I spurted four times, each with a spearing thrust deep within her before I had finished and eased off laying there unmoving again.
Her anus finally expelled my cock, still half-hard. I got up and went over to the wash-basin in the corner of the room (this had been a bedroom before I converted it into a sort of video and photo studio). I rinsed my cock...no blood. Good, you never know with virgin boys: so no complications there! I dried myself on his bathrobe.
'Better clean yourself up too, Terry. Your arse will be a bit sticky!'
I watched as he ran some hot water, soaped himself, and dried off, returning to the sofa. I knelt in front of him and ran my hands up slender legs to the soft flesh above his stocking tops. His cock was still not that of an adult, as long as some men's perhaps at about six inches but still not as broad as it would be in a few years' time. I kissed the fine fringe of blonde hair at its root, and another drop of precum appeared in the eye of a flaring, broad knob. I was glad the cock was cut, partly because it would make for good photos, and partly because I have a bit of a fetish for cut cocks on young teens...you don't get enough of them nowadays! I touched the droplet of clear liquid with the tip of my tongue, lifting it so a spider's web thread joined my tongue to his cock. I was thinking of him as a boy again as I took his knob between my lips and heard him give a sigh of contentment. While fucking him he had been my little girl! I lowered my head, and allowed the whole of his shaft to enter my mouth, till my lips rested on his belly. He held my head between the palms of his hand, holding me in place on his cock.
But now I gave him a real professional blow-job, for which I am famous throughout the neighbourhood. You need to really love sucking cock to do it well, and I just love the feel of a cock in my mouth, and if there are nylon-stockinged legs and a satin basque for me to caress at the same time, then that is heaven. I did not expect it to last long, and it did not! His hips heaved and wriggled as I bobbed up and down on him, and then I heard him groan and my mouth was filled with the boy's cum. I guessed this was also the first time he had come in someone's mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed in my mouth as the orgasm passed, and I was careful not to make it sensitive. It was still hard and erect when I pulled back to sit beside him again. My cock was hard again as well!
I poured us another drink each, malt for me and vodka and coke for him, and we chatted a bit side-by-side on the couch. I found that I was right. He was a grammar school boy from Kent, one of the few places that still had that old-fashioned selective education system. He had done his 'A levels' a year early at sixteen and got good grades in English, history, French and Latin. But the love of his life was drama and acting held all his ambitions. For years he had been the 'juvenile lead' in productions in the local repertory theatre, taking female as well as male roles, and enjoying the female parts even more than the male. He was going to university in September to study drama and hopefully get some more acting experience. He had come up to the city in the hope that he would find some theatre work before his drama studies began, but had not yet got his union card, which was why he was selling Big Issue as a stop-gap.
I told him he made a really convincing girl, even with minimal grease-paint! He said it felt as natural as being male.
'Might be a first! I mean the first transvestite star actress!'
'There was always the great Sarah Bernhardt!'
As we chatted I fondled him, and especially his cock and balls, now ensconced in satin again, and kept him nice and hard: the virility of a sixteen-year-old, plus the little blue pill, and of course, he was enjoying this new feminine role. I was still hard and looking forward to enjoying him the way I like most, from behind.
'I want you again, Terry. Shall we?'
'Please, Mr McPherson, and this time I want to really remember it as it happens. The first time it was all so new and exciting it went by in a flash.'
'I'll make it last a bit longer this time, promise.'
'I didn't mean that... I mean...' He blushed with embarrassment at his faux pas. I swear he blushed, and looked so lovely!
'I know what you mean, Terry, and I think it's sweet. Give me a kiss.'
I felt his little cock in its green satin pouch, the soft inner thighs, and the glossy stocking tops as we embraced and his tongue explored my mouth. He was stroking my cock and I was soon rock-hard for him. I pulled his panties down (yet again!) and he raised his bottom so we could remove them completely.
'Now, Terry, on all fours with your head on the pillows.'
He leaped to it! Knelt for me over the sofa his face in the velvet cushion. There was still a dribble of cum and lube between his arse cheeks, but to be safe I stroked some more lube over his anus and slid a finger in to make sure I penetrated easily for him. He wriggled his arse provocatively and I finger fucked him a few seconds, pressing against his prostate.
'Please...'
I placed my knob and heard his groan of pleasure as I sank my shaft deep in him till my thighs were pressed against his tanned arse. His sighs and little squeaks were muffled by the pillow as I fucked him with long, slow sweeps at first, grasping his hips to control his movements beneath me. His back was bronzed and I thought the green satin was exactly right for his complexion. I stroked his back with the tips of my fingers and then leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck, where the blonde hair was finest. I was moving faster now, with short, stabbing thrusts, and a drop of sweat fell from my brow onto the green satin of his basque making an almost black spot. I reached for his panties on the floor beside us and mopped my brow, still fucking hard.
It occurred to me that this was going to make a great video for my web customers: a stunning little tranny, me on good form, and real, enthusiastic fucking. I had slowed down to long, slow pushes while I thought about the cameras and Terry protested.
'Faster, Mr McPherson. Faster and harder. Please......'
That suited my mood too, and I shagged that arse as thoroughly as ever arse was shagged! My thighs smacked hard into his bottom and I could hear his gasps with each penetration. I reached under him, and found his cock still hard. I gripped it and used it to control his movements, because he was flexing his back so his bottom rose to meet each thrust. His cock throbbed in my fist, and the whole effect was so sexy that, despite myself, I found I was coming, the tension rising from my own arse to my cock, and then spurting cum into him, one great gush with each of about four thrusts. I slowed now, enjoying the feeling of satisfaction, fucking slower and slower till we were still again.
His arsehole expelled my cock, only half-hard now. Some cum dripped onto the carpet. I got up and went over to the sink to rinse off. No blood!
He took his turn at the sink, and then sat beside me again on the sofa.
'That was wonderful! Great! I can't thank you enough!'
'I could tell you enjoyed it, Terry.'
'Oh yes!'
There was a silence as I considered how satisfying it was to have awoken a young lad to the real nature of his sexuality. He was gay, and a cross-dresser. Lucky guy...or girl!
'How much have I earned?'
I looked at my watch. 'Just over two hours...so that's a hundred and fifty.'
'I asked because I wondered if I could keep these clothes and shoes. I'll pay for them!'
'You're going to dress again, then?'
'I think I'll always dress as a girl from now on. It feels so good. And I look good, don't I?' He stood up and posed in the mirror again, pulling the panties on for the last time.
'You certainly look better in those than the dreadful stuff you arrived in'.
He laughed. It may have been an illusion, but even the laugh had a feminine timbre now: of course he was a skilled actor...actress?
'And I'm feeling generous. I'm going to give you them for being such a good camera subject, and such a good fuck too.'
His arms were round my neck and his lips on mine. I was very aware his cock was still hard, but to tell the truth I had enough, and was not really tempted to suck him off again.
'I've got a friend called Sir Joshua Sallah...'
'The guy who owns newspapers and race horses?'
'That's him. We were at school together and have stayed close. His steady girl Donna is a transvestite, but she has gone to New York to manage a night club, so he's on the loose a bit nowadays. I'd like you to meet him.'
'He's a very handsome man...'
'He is.' I was silent a moment as I remembered how Josh, two years older than me, had seduced me at school, and taught me the joys of gay sex. 'Yes he's certainly good-looking, and very, very generous.He can afford to be, of course. He'll be looking for a new little squeeze, and it could be good news for you, Terry, if you play your cards right. Fill your gap year in nicely, better than selling Big Issue at any rate.
That tinkling laugh again. 'I'd like that. I suppose he'll want to fill my gap too, like you just did. I hope so: you've really woken me up down there...'
'I'll give him a call then.'
Terry listened to the half of the conversation he could hear.
'Yes, Josh, blonde, tanned, slender, legal, and very pretty...twice and she loved it...yes, virgin, or at least was an hour ago, you know me!...educated, articulate...yes, keen to meet you...half an hour, then....'
I went to the sideboard drawer and took out a little gold handbag I use as a film prop sometimes, counted out £150 and put it in the bag, handing it to Terry. 'He'll be here in a few minutes, and we'd better sort out your make-up. I've kissed some of the lipstick off even though it shouldn't.
Powdered and lipsticked, and hair brushed again, she looked the perfect teenage girl once more. We put the powder and lipstick in the handbag, and as she slipped into her gown, I put three condoms in it as well.
'You won't want to use these with Sir Joshua, but sometimes he has rent-boys and lads he finds in bars. If you both go clubbing tonight, he's quite likely to take one or two lads home with you. If one gets to fuck you, make sure he wears a condom, sweetie.'
She kissed me again, and we went through to my proper reception room to wait for him.
'When Sir Joshua arrives, remember a lady never gets up to shake hands with a man when she's already sitting, and always "Sir Joshua" even though I call him "Josh".
It was all very satisfactory. I seldom want to have sex twice with the same person, whether girl, boy or cd. So all that was taken care of, and no doubt Josh would send me a nice present in the morning, probably a dozen of good wine. | 5 |
79,396 | He Got What He Deserved | 'Oh my God! My bag's gone. Shit! I feel so stupid. I left it here while we danced. Oh shit!'
'Hard luck! Much in it?' Her partner was thinking, 'What an airhead. Leaving her purse like that. Nice tits, nice arse, nice legs, but airhead.'
'No credit cards. Just a few quid. And my keys. Look, I've had enough. Lend us a tenner for the cab. I've got spare keys. Doesn't seem much fun now.'
Josh had just finished his shift as a bouncer and was going to get his coat to go home, as it was early on a Friday. The girl's bag just begged to be lifted. No one was watching as he grabbed it, hid it under his jacket, and walked out to the locker room. He let himself into the staff toilet and checked it out. Lipstick. Condoms...the sexy bitch. Ten pounds, no credit cards. What's this? No, just a student union card. A photo on it. She's certainly a looker though. Petite, with long blonde hair. Keys. An address on the card. He sat there thinking. An idea was forming in his evil mind.
Lurking in the bushes, Josh heard the taxi draw up.
'Want me to come in?'
'Not tonight, Charles. I really couldn't. It's really stirred me up having my purse nicked. I wouldn't be much good.'
Josh watched them kiss briefly, before the guy got back in the taxi. As the girl lifted her arms to his shoulders, her dress rode up to show the sexiest little white bikini panties. The couple separated. Josh watched the guy adjust his trousers before getting back into the cab. Like the lurking Josh, he, too, had a hard cock. Josh smiled to himself and adjusted his own cock, rubbing its familiar shape. The girl tripped lightly up the steps, and for a moment Josh thought he had been spotted as she stepped into the bushes right in front of him. A slim white arm reached out and turned over a muddy flower-pot. As she leaned over, he could see the cleavage of her breasts, white in the moonlight. Her fingernails had glittery nail varnish. He crouched back further into the shadows. The spare key was under the pot, and he breathed again when he heard her step up to the door and let herself in. As the door opened, she was silhouetted against the light, and he could see she would be just perfect for him. Tiny, but with lovely legs, and her dress did not hide the pert prettiness of her tits, and her perky, jutting bottom. Blonde hair to the bare shoulders. The taxi drew away.
He gave her ten minutes. There were two keys. One marked "3" must be the flat, and the unmarked one would be the front door. He rubbed his cock in anticipation.
The flat was still warm from the sun that afternoon, and Julie did not need to light the gas fire. She poured herself a gin as consolation for the ruined evening. She felt sorry for herself. But then she looked at herself in the long mirror. She took a long gulp, and the spirit burned her throat. She lit a cigarette and switched on the television.
Josh let himself in, his heart beating. Was it lust or fear? Probably both. Anyway, he was still hard as he unlocked the flat door...no chain, thank goodness...and shut it gently behind him. He could hear his prey walking about in the next room, talking to herself.
The door was ajar, but he could not see her yet. At the end of the corridor, he could see a sink. Kitchen! He slipped across to the tiny kitchen and sure enough, there was a large knife on the rack. He grasped it.
There was a pair of stockings thrown slovenly onto the floor. Ideal. He slipped one over his face. Back now to the living room door. He opened it gently another six inches. Now he could see her. She had finished a cigarette and got up to stub it out in an ornate ashtray on the table. She slipped the straps of her silver mini-dress over her arms and let it fall to the floor. Josh rubbed his cock appreciatively and quietly unzipped to get it out. He held the knife in his right hand, his shaft in his left, and watched, entranced, as she admired herself in the mirror, running her hands over her bottom, breasts, and legs. Lovely golden tan, and those brilliant white panties! Lovely tits under their white lace, and that pretty little mound under her panties. The crotch was tight over her cunt lips, separating and outlining them. He was going to have her. She would be well worth the risk.
'Not bad!' she thought. No wonder Charles...and the others...were after her all the time. She looked at her bottom in the mirror. The white thong did it justice, she thought. Firm and rounded, and she had shaved so the thong fitted perfectly over her mound. Holding the gin glass, she pirouetted. Good tits, too. And the white lacy bra showed them off well. 'Pert,' she thought. 'Yes, that's the word for my tits, pert. Glad they're not too big. The shape and firmness, that's what the boys go for.' She was about to kick off her silver high-heeled sandals, matching her dress (and purse!) that evening. But on second thoughts, she kept them on. Her legs looked better in high heels. Showed their shape off, and the shape of her bum as they pushed her center of gravity a bit forward. Nice flat belly! 'Pity it's too hot for stockings,' she thought. 'Love to see my legs in stockings.' She pirouetted, and stood, one leg bent up in the classic cheesecake pose. She laughed at her own vanity and poured herself another gin.
'Serves her right, cheeky little bitch,' Josh muttered to himself. 'Teasing guys like that! Just asking for it. Condoms in her purse, ready.'
She was just finishing her second gin and considering whether to have another before her bath when she heard a noise.
He had crept into the room and was close enough to touch her. As she turned, he grasped her arm and pulled her to him, her nearly naked buttocks pressed against his naked prick. The knife was at her throat. The stocking disguised his face, but his voice was clear, if made gruff by his lust.
'No noise, sweetheart. I know how to use this.' He cleverly put on a false Scottish accent.
'Please...'
'Sh! I said.' He was looking round the room and saw what he needed. Wide parcel tape. Yeah, that would do it. Wordless, he pushed her towards the desk, with a computer on it, and the tape in a filing basket. He stretched the clear plastic tape between his teeth and one hand and cut it with his knife. He held her wrists in one hand and bound the tape round them, four times.
'I know you. You're the bouncer...'
'Silly Bitch!' He pulled off the stocking mask. 'You see what you've done?' As he spoke, he cut off another length of tape and wound it round her head, covering her mouth, lifting her hair so the tape went under that golden cascade. On second thoughts, he would have preferred to have her wrists bound behind her, but this was okay. Another few layers of tape over her lower arms now. Leave her legs free as yet!
'Well, now. Looks like you're safe now, darling.' She kicked out at him, missing with the stiletto heels, and he laughed. He could see anger more than fear in her eyes. He'd soon change that, he thought. Suddenly he remembered a picture he'd seen years before. A German soldier was raping a girl. The plate was grey and smudged, one of a series of first world war propaganda atrocities he used to wank to when younger. She was tied to a farm kitchen table, her arms together, and her legs wide apart. Her cunt was about to be penetrated. A second print showed her face down on the same table, with the soldier wiping his cock. The clear suggestion was that after fucking her cunt, he had buggered her arse. The table was just like this one! He pulled her, still kicking, to it and bent her over it, backwards. The tape again, this time between her wrists and round the tape already there. Now over the table and down to a table leg. Three times round that. She was rolling about, legs kicking in the air. He could see the muscles in her flat belly as she wriggled. There were tears in her eyes, but whether of frustration and anger, or terror, he could not tell yet.
He stood back. This would be the good bit! He dropped his trousers, keeping his t-shirt and shoes on. He was as hard as he had ever been, his cock twitching as he looked at the writhing figure before him. Now he grasped one ankle and wound tape around it before securing it to a table leg. The pretty little slippers matched the silver glitter on her toenails. He pulled her body towards the edge of the table, so her white-lacy butt was just at the edge before strapping her other ankle to the other free table leg. She lay there, helpless and gagged, legs wide apart. He ran his leg up one slender leg from ankle to crotch, and then the other. Smooth, cool skin, smooth as glossy stockings, he thought. He leaned over her and felt her tits through the lacy bra, his cock pushing against the crotch of her panties. A drop of his precum soaked into them.
His mind went back to an evening in the cinema. 'Bitch!' he thought.It was three years ago now, but it still made his anger boil when he thought of it. He squeezed a breast brutally, and then stroked it again. He had been in the back row with Maisie Tomlinson. 'Bitch!' he muttered, and squeezed a breast again. He had managed to get his hand inside her blouse, feeling her breast through a satin bra. He had made to kiss her, and she had turned away. 'Christ! Your breath stinks, Josh Hogg. Ugh!' And she had walked out of the cinema, leaving him. The next day, everyone knew. 'Bitch!' he said out loud, and reached for the knife, which he had stuck into the tabletop. He placed the blade under her armpit, enjoying her flinch and the terror in her eyes as the cold steel touched her. 'Bitches teasing you with their lace and silk, and condoms in their bags. Bitches!' With an upward sweep, he cut the white bra strap, stuck the knife back in the polished tabletop, and pulled the bra away, throwing it down so it landed in front of the window.
Her nipples were standing, as if excited, though that was hardly likely, he thought. He placed one hand on each breast and amused himself pushing them down so the nipples pressed into his open palms. They were good breasts, he thought, firm and round. He preferred them not too big. He rolled a pink nipple between each thumb and forefinger, and then pulled them, stretching her breasts out and up. He let go, and they went back into shape. He grasped them again, and this time twisted each one, counterclockwise the left breast, and clockwise the right. This must have hurt her because her hips rose from the table, and she was trying to wriggle. Tears ran silently down her face. He twisted and squeezed hard. The pink nipples were very hard now, and he realized that pain could mimic pleasure. It was a new idea. He leaned over her closer and licked one breast and then the other. She was salty, from the dancing earlier, he guessed. He bit her, hard.
Her waist was tiny, and her belly flat. When he spread his hands, he could almost join them around her waist. Very trim and sexy, he thought. Well worth the risk of raping her. And no need to hurry this time, for once. No hurried release in the bushes before legging it. He stroked his cock. The teeth marks on her right breast showed red and livid now against the white flesh. He bit the left breast.
Lovely flat belly, he thought. Her vulva seemed quite plump under the white satin thong.
His mind went back to summer two years before. Nelly Pepper on the beach with two of her friends. Josh hanging around at the edge of a group of boys. Nelly had a tiny yellow bikini, the thong scarcely covering her vulva at all, and the back of it disappearing into the crease of her buttocks. He grasped the white satin as he recalled his humiliation. He had asked Nelly for a date, stupidly in public. But it had been thoughtless, on the spur of the moment, provoked by that pretty vulva so carelessly showing through the thin, tight, yellow cloth. 'I wouldn't go out with you, Josh Hogg, if you was the last boy in the world,' She looked him straight in the eyes, and there was nothing in her eyes but contempt. His face flushed now as he remembered. 'Hogg by name and pig by nature.'
The girls giggled. The boys laughed. He had fled.
Angry, he put his hand down into her white panties, grasped the fabric, and pulled, hard. The lace tore, and he threw the debris onto the floor.
'Shave your vulva then, darling? Shave it for Charles, do you? Condoms in your purse and vulva shaved for him to suck and fuck. Bitch!' He was holding her whole vulva in his hand. He let go, to look at it. The lips were tight closed, a thin parting in the pink flesh. He pulled them apart, two-handed. Inside was dry. 'Dry! But only to be expected, I guess. What about up here?' He jabbed a finger into her, but her vulva was just as dry, the flesh of her outer lips clinging to his finger, and being dragged into her with it. 'Not much good for fucking, sweetie.'
He squatted between her legs and licked at the open slit. Salty! He sucked and licked, but there was no reaction, no flowing of hot juices for him. 'I like a slippery fuck, darling.'
He knew where he would find what he wanted. On the side of the sink, in the kitchen, an open pat of butter. He returned with it in his hand.
'Buttered crumpet, darling!' He scooped a dollop and spread it over her open lips. His finger slipped in easily now. He felt around in her, removed it, and licked it clean. 'Now you're gonna get that shagging, sweetie.' She was wriggling, trying desperately to break the plastic tape bonds.
He stood over her, one hand on her belly, the other holding his cock. It slipped easily up and down her vulva lips, and when his glans penetrated her vagina, he let go, and held her down with both hands on her belly. He pushed, and the whole length of his penis slid easily into her. 'That's more like it, darling. Don't want a sore cock after humping you. Easily now. 'Ah, yes, now that's good. Hot and tight!'
He had intended to make it last, but as he looked at her breasts, her flat belly, her golden hair, the tears coursing down her face, and above all his cock parting her shaven vulva lips, and slipping in and out, he found he was coming.
He pulled out, still erect. Semen dripped from his cock onto her thigh. He bent to pick up her torn panties but then had a better idea. He went around the table and wiped his cock in her golden hair. That felt good, and he was ready for another fuck.
'Gonna be in your anus now. I wonder if you give lover-boy Charles your anus, sweetie? Well, you're gonna give it to ole Josh!'
He was careful not to give her a chance of escape. He cut one leg free, and then taped her legs tight together before cutting the other leg free. Then he cut the tape fixing her hands to the table leg. He rolled her off the table, and she fell heavily to the floor. Over onto her belly now, and then her legs forced up until she was kneeling, legs tied, and hands tied in front of her. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and her tiny waist accentuated the round fullness of her buttocks.
The butter again, and a dollop on his finger to work into her anus. Just enough fingering to allow his cock to slide in. He did not care whether she got any pleasure, so it was enough to grease it up, without bothering to relax the muscles. In any case, he liked a tight butt-fuck.
He knelt behind her, a hand on each cheek, pulling them apart. Blonde, she had a pink anus, like a puckered rose. He placed his cock and forced the glans in. Two hands on her shoulders, he pressed forward until his thighs touched her bottom and his cock was fully enclosed. She was tight! Her anus was spasming on the root of his penis, gripping and releasing, only to grip again.
He pulled out, so only the glans was in her, and gloated as he looked down at the symbol of his triumph over cruel femininity. He was fucking her in the anus for all those other girls who had humiliated him. He pushed in again, hard, and enjoyed the way her buttocks flinched away from him. He grabbed a handful of golden hair and twisted it so she had to look at him over her shoulder. The anger had gone from her eyes. Only bleak misery now. He made her watch his face as he fucked her, his other hand grasping the flesh of her right buttock.
He felt his orgasm building, like a spring coiling up in his balls as they slapped against her vulva lips. He let go the hair, and slapped her arse cheeks in rhythm with each thrust. Left hand, right hand. He was ready now, and with a series of brutal thrusts he unloaded his passion into her. He was panting from the effort when he had done. Her anus was gripping his cock, but he pulled it out, half limp. Just a bit of her feces in among the shining butter. He wiped his cock in her hair again, but found he needed her torn panties to finish the job.
He felt calmer now than he had for weeks, and he knew what he had to do. This would be a first, he thought.
She had recognized him. There was only one thing to do. He went out to the kitchen again. In the cupboard, what he needed, a tall bottle of methylated spirit, and a smaller can of lighter fluid. By its weight, it was nearly full.
He splashed the purple spirit over the carpet, and especially over the bookcase and settee. That would burn well, and quickly. The lighter fluid had a nozzle, and he squirted it liberally over everything, until it was empty. 'Should have saved some for her,' he thought. 'Too late now.' She was still kneeling where he had left her, sobbing quietly. Her anus was inflamed red from his buggery, but had closed up again. He could have managed her again, stimulated by her abject helplessness, but the smell of petrol was everywhere. He turned the gas fire on, but did not light it. He made a torch from a rolled-up newspaper and lit it using her lighter.
He stepped towards the sash window, ready to throw the torch onto the settee before stepping out of the window into the garden. His left foot trod on the strap of her bra, where he had thrown it. The toe cap of his right boot fitted neatly into one of the bra cups. He tripped. As he fell, his head clipped the corner of the computer table, and he was unconscious even before he crashed to the floor. The blazing torch dropped from his hand to the carpet, where it smouldered.
She found she could move, and with a series of 'bunny hops' managed to get round his prostrate body and to the window. She got her arms and body over the sill, so she was resting on her belly. Now a huge effort to produce a sort of back-flip, and she was lying on her back in the flower bed, crumpled against the brick wall. Above her, there was a sudden flash and a sheet of flame as the room caught fire, gas and spirit finally igniting.
Mr Salim Mahmood had finished his shift and was driving his taxi home.His wife would have a nice meal for him, and with the children in bed, they would have sex in front of the television. He hummed happily to himself. It was the whiteness of her body as she fell through the window that caught his eye, and he was braking to a halt when the window was lit by flame. He called his depot on the radio and had them call the emergency services. He ran over the rough lawn to the window, crouching under the searing heat. He picked up the girl and staggered back to his cab, dumping her in the front seat. She was pretty and naked, but he felt no lust, only pity. He could not find a knife or anything sharp to cut her bonds and was scrabbling about looking when the police arrived.
Woman Police Constable McFee took over, releasing the girl and wrapping her in a blanket. She allowed herself the luxury of touching those lovely breasts as she did so. God! The girl was beautiful. Her thighs and buttocks were bruised. There were bite marks on her flawless breasts and on her buttocks. Some bastard male had had her. WPC McFee promised herself she would 'counsel' the girl, warn her of men's violence, and persuade her of the supremacy of lesbian love.
The fire brigade arrived just in time to hear Josh's scream of pain and terror as he regained consciousness to find he was on fire. Beaten back by the flames, they listened. The scream died away, and his next breath filled his lungs with raw fire. He managed to stand. Appalled, the firemen saw his face and arms blackened and bubbling, his hair and clothes on fire. He stood silhouetted, a black figure framed against the flaming room behind him. A desperate gurgle in his throat as he tried to scream again, and he fell backwards into the inferno. | 4 |
79,423 | Grand | 'One thing about the Grand is the quality of the staff!'
'Don't tell me! I could see you drooling over him!'
'And you too!' She reached down under the covers. 'I thought so! Hard as a steel rod. And I bet it was him, not me!'
'You're enough to give anyone a hard-on. I can't believe how lucky I am sometimes.' He reached over and slipped a hand down the pink bra-top she was wearing. 'But yes. I must admit he gave me some ideas.'
They were discussing the waiter who had just left the breakfast tray on a large table under the window. About eighteen, Latin, slim but muscular. A smoldering volcano. In his Grand uniform, you could see his bulge under the tight, fitted pantaloons. You could even guess he was cut, from its shape. It hid little. His chest and shoulders were flattered by the tight waistcoat. Doubtless that was the uniform designer's intention. Many guests, of both sexes, fantasized over servants in this garb. And at the Grand, often more than fantasized.
'I don't mind. I go both ways too, as you well know.' She leaned over and kissed him, releasing his cock from her grip. She slid down the bed, covers kicked off now. 'I could fancy him, too. You know I like them young!' Her hand slid down into her panties, and caressed her slit. She shut her eyes. 'Yes! I really could!'
He watched a moment. She suddenly stopped her solitary pleasure. 'Let's have him! I'll seduce him, and then you can have him. Play the outraged husband! Ring down and get him up again.'
He dialed room service. 'There wasn't enough butter on the breakfast tray. Could you send up some more, please. Thank you!'
'Butter! I ask you! Good. Now you disappear to the bathroom! Let me come once.'
She had slipped off her skimpy undies and had the sheet pulled up to her shoulders when the young man came in, carrying a silver tray with a knob of butter on a small plate. She had made sure her nipples showed well through the white sheet! He took the tray over to the table.
'Put it by the bed, here, please.' As she leaned over to remove books, tissues etc from the bedside table, her sheet slipped down, revealing her matchless breasts. He had a sudden, fleeting glimpse of red-brown nipples and full rounded, white flesh.
'Oops!' She pulled the sheet up again, but her guile was rewarded by the obvious erection under his tight, black trousers. As he stood by the bed, she grabbed him, arms round his back, on his bum, pulling him onto her waiting face, nuzzling him through his trousers. He smelled of aftershave and soap!
For a moment, it seemed he would protest. But, skilled, she had his flies open and his cock out. Hands back to his firm, athletic buttocks, she took him into her mouth, deep, sucking, licking. He sighed, struck speechless. Her mouth was warm, wet, willing!
Still sucking on his knob, she undid the clasp on his trousers and pulled them down over his young legs, till they dropped to his ankle. He was long! Longer than her Sam. And broad. Though not broader than Sam. There was room for her to grip him in one hand while moving her head back and forth on his cock. Her free hand was in the cleft of his buttocks, pulling him into her, fingers probing his tight, hairless bottom hole. She looked up at him. He wanted to feel her tits, but as she lay, he couldn't reach. He held her head in both hands, blonde hair slipping under his palms, and controlled the rhythm of her gobbling.
She reached for the side-table and dipped her fingers in the butter, which had softened in the heat of the bedroom. She transferred a dollop into the crease of his arse and rubbed it up and down. Noticeably, his thrusts into her mouth increased in intensity as she let her index finger tap on his tight-closed anus. Then she slipped it in. He gave a gasp, but still shagged her mouth as she gently masturbated his bottom hole. She had a clear impression that this was a new experience for him.
Two fingers now, and really it was the impetus of his eager thrusts that was moving his arse over her fingers. Her man was going to enjoy this well-oiled, well-prepared, silky-soft ring!
She would have to be careful he didn't come in her mouth, too quick. The plan was for her man to 'discover' them in the very act of fucking. And in any case, she wanted this virile young cock in her before giving him over to be buggered.
She tasted a drop of cum! It was time. 'I want you in bed with me. I want you to fuck me. Naked!' She could see her man peeping round the edge of the bathroom door. Above all else...or nearly everything else... he enjoyed seeing his woman being shagged, especially by one of her handsome young admirers.
Hurriedly the boy stripped off, his stiff cock at right angles in front of him. What a contrast between the smooth, boyish body and the rigid, threatening prick. Between the olive skin of his belly and bottom, and the redness of his knob. She felt a surge of excitement as he finally pulled his undervest up over his head, exposing his chest.
It was difficult for her to resist reaching down and tweaking her clit. But she did resist and instead reached up with both arms, inviting him to lay with her.
Her husband was standing in the open doorway of the bathroom now. His wife could see him, and it was adding excitement to her caressing of the young man's smooth body as he leaned over her. In the doorway, he was motionless, except for his cock, which was gradually thickening, lengthening, and rising as he watched his wife accept this lover. He was kneeling between her legs now, and she held his stiff cock, placing it between her cunt lips, pressed against the nub of her clit. With the other hand, she stretched the lips and closed them over the knob. The boy groaned in pleasure. Now she was moving the knob the length of her lips, still holding them closed over it. Three or four times she did this, before allowing the knob, now thoroughly lubricated, to penetrate her.
As he felt her warm wetness enclose him, he pulled her up to him, his arms round her back, pulling her tits, so full and firm, against his smooth chest. Her husband could see her fingers, on his bottom, make dimples in the olive-skinned buttocks as she, too, pulled herself onto him. As he drove his first thrust home, she squealed with pleasure, and they fell, her backwards onto the bed, he forwards onto her plump tits.
He was going at it hard now, and her panting, groaning and obscene muttering showed he was arousing her. From the doorway, the boy's oh-so-desirable arse moved with each thrust. Muscles clenched, closing his cleft as he drove it in, but opening to reveal the butter-anointed, gleaming anus as he withdrew. It twinkled and winked at him as he watched, his cock out straight in front of him, untouched and unwanked.
His wife was coming, announcing her orgasm in little, squeaking cries of encouragement. Her orgasm was just dying away when her new lover spurted his hot, vigorous cum into her. As the boy's arse juddered and writhed with the orgasm, her husband entered the room and stood by the bed, between the bed and the wardrobe mirror. Neither of the temporarily satisfied couple noticed him till he spoke.
'Had a nice fuck then. Enjoyed shagging my wife, have you?'
'Heavens! My husband!'
The young man stopped squeezing her tits, which he had been doing till he heard those ominous words, and hurriedly pulled out his still-hard, glistening cock.
'Wet dick! I'm not pleased with you, boy. I see from these...' He lifted the uniform pantaloons with a toe and dropped them...'that my wife has been shagged by a hotel waiter. I should complain to the management, I feel.'
His stern words would have been even more effective were it not for the great stiff cock, and the obvious pleasure he took in posing in front of the mirror, with that huge erection.
'No, darling! He is so beautiful! And they would certainly sack him!'
'Please, sir. Let me off. She was naked and so beautiful! And they would send me back to Uruguay if no job.'
'I know she's beautiful when she's naked. No need to tell me that, cheeky boy.' He leaned down and caressed one of her tits, and then, as if with a second thought, rested his hand on the boy's thigh.
His wife looked at him, at the boy, and took her cue. 'Angel! Angel, give yourself to my husband, and then he will be equal, revenged. Look, he's a fine man. Give yourself to him.' Her husband was caressing the boy's bottom now. His 'consent' to this suggestion was only too obvious.
'Kneel, boy.'
'Oh, sir, I couldn't!'
'Uruguay!'
The boy knelt in the centre of the bed. A picture of desirable, young, muscled love-toy. She arranged herself so the lad's face was resting on her breasts. Her husband knelt behind, and without greasing up....there was plenty of butter-oil in the crease of the arse offered up to him...placed his knob exactly in the hole. He reached underneath and grasped the boy's cock in one hand, and his balls in the other. He pulled the boy onto him as he forced his cock into the clearly virgin bottom hole.The boy yelled with momentary pain, but the noise was partially smothered by the breasts.
Within seconds, the boy was moving in rhythm with the thrusting penis, a sure sign he was finding pleasure in this, his first penetration. Indeed, he had never known pleasure like it...the firm grasp of his buttocks by one hand, the fondling of his cock by the other, the feel of muscled, hairy thighs against his smooth buttocks. He had a sudden realization that, if not gay, he was at least bisexual. This submission to a muscular, dominant, and very handsome man was different from fucking a girl...but just as exciting. He could feel he was in danger of coming, and disengaged his face from the tits and nipples he had been nibbling.
He couldn't stop it. He was coming. He yelled his pleasure, and his lover felt his hand suddenly covered with cum, sure proof of the success of his fucking.
He held the throbbing cock until all the cum had been milked out, then wiped his hand on the smooth, white arse. Now it was time for him. He thrust deeper and harder, lightly spanking the buttocks with each thrust. He felt the orgasm mounting, until, with several draining spurts, he emptied himself into the eager, satisfied bottom.
His wife laughed. 'I love to watch you boys fucking. You're so serious about it!'
They lay a few moments...the boy with his eyes shut and a smile on his face. He was still hard!
He opened his eyes as he felt a mouth enclose his cock, teasing it to full erection. It was his lover of a moment or two before. He moved so the man's limp cock was available for him, and took it in his mouth.
It was the man's turn to laugh. 'Not for an hour or so I'm afraid. Not like you sixteen year olds. I tell you what though. Because you've been such a good fuck, and to show you you're bi...like me and my wife...I'll offer you my wife's lovely tight little arsehole! How would you like that?'
'Don't ask me whether I want...' She wasn't really complaining. That was clear as she was applying butter to her smooth arsehole, and working it in, before laying on her belly, her cunt and arse raised by the bending of one shapely leg under her.
Her man lay back admiring the energy with which the young Latino shagged her, and the enthusiasm with which she received his cock. He started half-kneeling behind her, and her man could see the shaft penetrate, and then force home. Her hand crept under her body and he saw it start to tickle her clit before the boy collapsed on her arse, removing the view.
It wouldn't be long, he thought, as her little squeaking cries and pants were replaced by the noisier sounds of her orgasm. The boy was grunting hard, and it was obvious from his contorted face when he came.
Next morning, he rang down for their breakfast tray, and went through to the bathroom to run his shower.
She lay under the bedclothes, dozing, hoping young Angel would again bring their morning treat.
A knock. 'Enter!' It was not Angel. A trim black girl deposited the tray on the table and drew the curtains.
She sat up in bed, giving the maid a fleeting glimpse of her breasts before pulling the sheet up over them.
'Not bad!' the maid thought, and she could still see the shape of the breasts, and especially the hard nipples through the sheet. She bent over to pick up a fallen napkin...quite deliberately giving the guest an equally fleeting view of her long, ebony legs and the dazzling white of her panties, tight over her crotch.
'Not bad!' the other thought as she looked at the girl. The sunlight streaming through the window now the curtains were opened silhouetted the girl, shone through her light, nylon housecoat, showing the shape of her hips and legs. 'Not bad!' And she came to a decision.
As she reached for her purse on the bedside table, again her lovely breasts revealed. She took a bill out of the red leather wallet and laid it on the bedside table.
'There's a fifty says you slip that coat off and slip into bed with me for a few minutes...'
The maid giggled and came over to the bed. She took the red note and slipped it into her coat pocket. She thought to herself, 'I'd have this one for free. But fifty's fifty!' And she slipped her coat off. She always wore good lingerie...though more often it was a man than a woman guest who had the benefit of it! She slipped her tits out of the white bra before reaching round to unclasp it. She smiled at the girl on the bed, who had thrown the covers off.
'You're lovely!'
'And you're not bad either, ma'am!'
In the shower, he was just drying off, and could hear them talking. Gingerly, he moved the door an inch and peeped through the gap. The maid saw the door move, but gave no sign. She could see from the room that there had been a man there, and now knew where he was! Well, she'd give him a show too. She turned so he would get her breasts in profile as she leaned over to unclasp the stockings. Slowly, she rolled one stocking down, and then the other. He was hard. On the bed, his woman could feel her cuntlips plumping, her clit hardening, and her juices flowing.
The girl kept her knickers on as she stood, ready, by the bed.
'Here! Beside me. Kiss me.'
She knelt beside the woman, who was still reclining against the thick pillows. Their tongues touched. Their lips met. The blonde's tongue penetrated the black girl's mouth, and her hands grasped the firm, almost muscular hips.
'What's your name?'
'Lizzie.'
'Kneel down, Lizzie.' As she spoke, she was forcing the girl over, so her bottom was exposed to her man's view. She caressed the round, firm buttocks, kneading them through the slippery satin. Then she eased the panties down till they stretched across plump cunt lips. Her arse and cuntlips were naked of any hair. Bare. Just how she and Sam really liked them. Certainly best for sucking! She lowered her lips to the girl's other lips, and planted a kiss, before slipping her tongue into the scarcely-open slit. The smooth arsehole was very tempting, but it was into the salty-sweet vagina she slipped her tongue. The lovely arse wriggled under her. The panties were getting in her way, effectively denying her the girl's clit as she knelt there. She tried to pull them further down...they wouldn't come, as her legs were splayed.
The black girl rolled over, and raised her arse. Now they came off! Slipping down over smooth, athletic thighs.
They kissed again, mouth on eager mouth, hands learning the contours of each others' bodies. Though young, the maid had had so many bodies to play with like this. Suddenly, she thought how strange it was that they were all different, to the feel as well as to the eye. And yet, all so similar. With this thought, she reached down and felt the familiar nub of the blonde's clit, while she gently tweaked a rose-red nipple with her pursed lips.
Seconds later, they were in the classic position for mutual satisfaction. From his doorway, Sam watched as his wife pulled the girl on top of her and buried her face between those lithe, brown cheeks, spreading the lips so he could see the pink within, shining and gleaming as his wife tongued her. And was tongued in her turn! He couldn't see this part of the action, but the way the colored girl's head moved, and the wriggles and heaves of his wife's body under her made it clear she too was getting a good licking. She came first, but only seconds before the girl.
They lay motionless. Both had their eyes closed. Both were smiling.
He came up to the bed, and reached out to fondle the ebony bum. The girl started. His wife opened her eyes, and before the girl could protest, spoke. 'And another fifty if my man can have you.'
No reply, but no protest. In fact, you could almost see her bottom move provocatively under his palm. Both hands, now, in fact. Shit! What a lovely arse, he thought. He rolled her over, off his wife, and onto her back. She lay there, her legs spread, her lips and clit swollen from his wife's loving attentions. He reached down and one hand on her breast, the other rubbed at her clit, and then up and down in the slit, transferring her juices from her cunt to her arse.
'Well, if that's what he wants, that's all right by me,' she thought, raising her bottom a bit so his now-lubricated index finger could enter her.
His cock followed where his finger had led. She was relaxed, and easy for him to penetrate. It was almost as if she was drawing him into her, as she raised her hips to meet his first long, slow, regular thrust. Her tiny, high-pitched squeal was of pleasure, he decided, not pain. This would be a good one! What a delight to have an eager arse under your cock! An experienced and willing arse! She was fingering her clit now as he penetrated and withdrew, slow and measured. Each thrust in was met by her hips, and each withdrawal with that strange little squeak...all very stimulating.
He found himself wishing he hadn't jerked his prick while watching them from the bathroom. It was going to be difficult to make this last. He tried disengaging his mind from the shagging...thinking about the meeting on Monday. Nothing less exciting than that! It worked for a moment or two, but then she started to come, her busy finger flying up and down over her clit. He looked down at that, and could feel her orgasm as spasms ran through her body, making her contract on his cock, squeezing it, milking him. It was too much! He stopped trying to make it last and let himself go with huge, hard thrusts timed with the arching of her belly towards him.
As the hot cum jetted into her, she thought to herself 'A hundred for two orgasms with two beautiful yuppies! Not bad for a working girl.'As soon as he withdrew, she got up from the bed, wiping the cum from her arse on a bedsheet. 'Fuck!' she thought, 'I've been here twenty minutes! Have to run!' She was dressing as the blonde reached in her purse and peeled off another note, laying it on the bedside breakfast tray.
'Can't you stay for another?'
'More than my job's worth, ma'am. Much as I'd like to. That was good!'
'I was disappointed when it wasn't Angel this morning...but not now. How about both of you bringing us our breakfast tomorrow...that's our last day here.'
'Poor Angel! He got the sack yesterday morning.' She slipped the second fifty into her pocket with the first. 'The manager found him asleep...must have been just after he left you! But there's another very nice boy I could bring along. Only don't exhaust him too. Good jobs with good tips and extras are hard to come by here. Especially the extras.' | 4 |
79,501 | Satan's Toy | 'Ah, Ratsbane! You're two minutes late.'
'My abject apologies, Your Altitude. The lift down from the hundred and eighth floor was slow...'
The figure behind the mahogany desk might be any sleek, groomed, suited businessman, were it not for his pair of horns. The office was conventional: leather-surfaced padded door, thick red carpet, portrait of the leader on the wall behind the desk. Only the leader was not a President or monarch, but a fearsome diabolical image. His eyes took it all in and were arrested by the two ornaments on the otherwise bare white walls. They were living statues, each securely trussed and gagged, hanging from cuffed wrists. One, a middle-aged woman, still with fine, firm breasts, their shape accentuated by the hanging posture, her cunt shaven and spread by the wooden bar between her ankles. The other a teenage boy, his cock hanging limply but elegant from his shaven pubes.
'Hmph! Never be late again, or you'll really be sorry. I see you've noticed my today's playthings. She cheated on her husband. I've been shagging her arse off-and-on through the morning. I've kept her at forty to remind me she cuckolded her man. The male was just greedy all his life. I haven't touched him yet today. If you sucked him, he'd probably go hard. But no time this morning. Work to do! Now, when did you last have a human to play with?'
'Independence day, Your Altitude. The Count Rawspite vouchsafed me a human from his harem for the day, to celebrate our liberation from The Great Enemy so long ago.'
'Ah, His Eminence The Count Horseshite. It's no wonder he finds so little time to fulfill the requirements of his high office. He has one thousand human souls, seven hundred female, three hundred male. He's so busy whipping and fucking them that his department is a complete shambles. Keeps them all at fifteen to sixteen. Vouchsafed! My arse! What sort of language is that, little Ratsbane? He gave you one of his humans for an hour or two to buy your support. And you know it. Male or female?'
'A young girl, Your Altitude.'
'And how did you use her?'
'I fucked her, whipped her, fucked her again, in the arse, tied her up, slapped her about a bit, fucked her again, pissed on her, and left her hanging by the heels in the atrium on floor three eighty nine to meditate on her fate.'
'Good! Well, at least you did that correctly, if a bit conventionally. I may only have a hundred souls, but I keep them at all ages, and believe in inflicting the maximum pain. Some say Old Count Horseshit is soft on some of his 'children'. But I expect you want to know why I summoned you.'
A hologram appeared, shimmering over the corner of his desk.
'That's disgusting!'
'Obscene isn't it. Clearly praying to The Enemy.'
The image was a young girl, perhaps fifteen or a well-developed fourteen. She was kneeling in an attitude of prayer, eyes closed, hands together. Her blonde hair was in pigtails to her shoulders. Despite the bizarre uniform, a schoolgirl's 'gym-slip', they could see her breasts straining against the fabric of her blouse. As she knelt, the dark green skirt had ridden up slightly to reveal tanned, slender thighs. The background was the rich and somber arches and hangings of an ancient church or cathedral.
'That is F/UK/86251003/V/966.' He opened the buff folder lying on his desk. 'She is English, a virgin, and called,' he consulted the folder, 'Suitably for a virgin, Mary.' Ratsbane saw him shudder, as he named one of The Enemy's lieutenants. 'And she is your project young Ratsbane. The Higher Command is interested in her. I believe Our Great Leader, the Mighty Lucifer himself intends to have her. So I needn't tell you how high profile this is. The rewards for success will be considerable. I leave you to guess the penalty for failure.' He licked his lips.
'Read this. Infernal Intelligence has been much more thorough than usual. Crowd of clowns! It has been decided to send you to Earth as a priest, a young curate, assistant to her parish priest. Her profiling suggests a handsome young priest is the likeliest road to her corruption. And it is her corruption, utter and complete that we require.
'I may be young, Your Altitude. But in human terms handsome?'
'We can change that. Naked now. Jump to it! Yes, ugly!' He rose from his chair, and stood over the hairy little imp. 'Taller!' His hands passed lightly over the devil's body, and as he spoke the form changed, becoming smoother, taller, more muscular. 'Latin looks, I think. Yes, fuller lips. White skin, and no body hair except there, there and there, of course. Now that arse. Smaller, harder, muscular. And this. A good ten inches I think. Ah! That's going to impress her!' He stood back and admired. 'Perfect. Better, in fact than any of my humans. In fact ... Kneel!'
And Ratsbane submitted as the senior devil fucked him in the arse on the office carpet. The hanging victims looked on. They were inured to this by now.
REPORT 01 : F/UK/86251003/V/966. Cadet Devil Ratsbane.
I am pleased to report the project is developing well.
My character as Father Dominic has been accepted and I have been given the task of supervising Subject's catechism. This gives me adequate access to her. She is very pious, but is open to suggestion, and as she is home for the eleven weeks of the school holidays I shall have time to complete her corruption.
The first catechism lesson was a trial, having to rehearse The Enemy's spurious and discredited arguments, but the inspiration of our leader, The Mighty Lucifer, and the leadership of his dedicated lieutenant, The Count Rawspite, gave me the strength to prevail.
After our first meeting I offered her a lift home. I saw a momentary surprise, then doubt, and finally acceptance in her eyes.
It was still daylight, but the place I parked was secluded, and clearly well-used by couples. Empty bottles and full condoms spoiled the romance of the place I'm glad to say: how preferable is the austere dignity of our Hell to the spurious 'beauty' of Earth! I closed her mouth with a kiss before she could say anything. I felt her flinch and stiffen, but then relax, and her lips participated willingly in the embrace. I managed to get one hand on her breast, and felt it firm and round, even through the layers of cloth between her flesh and mine. I slipped a hand up her skirt and ran it up the top of her thighs, so smooth and warm. I tried to slip my hand between her thighs, but she clamped them even firmer shut.
She broke away from the kiss. 'That was nice, Father Dominic. But drive me home now. Please.'
I consider this an encouraging start, and intend to progress at our next weekly meeting.
Ninth day of the seventh month in the 437698th year of our Liberation.
REPORT 02 : F/UK/86251003/V/966. Cadet Devil Ratsbane.
Management was correct that my actions have alerted The Enemy. I have, however, neutralized His actions and the project continues to develop satisfactorily.
The next catechism lesson I made no pretence of teaching any of the old lies. Instead I sat down beside her immediately, put my arm round her and kissed her. She reciprocated willingly, her tongue in my mouth.
'Father Anselm told me not to see you again, Mary. You must have told him ...'
'It was my confession, Dominic. I had to.'
'I managed to convince him you had fantasized it all. Just like young girls sometimes do about their teachers, priests, doctors and so on. Looking for father figures."But if you do that again, well I think he would transfer me somewhere else."
I had my hand, the one not on her shoulders, resting on her flat belly. She raised it and placed it on her breast.
"I was so afraid you wouldn't kiss me again, Dominic, after I made you drive me home."
I could feel her heart beating. Her breast was round and warm under my palm. Her nipple was as hard as a little hazelnut. "But no more confessing about me, about us."
"I promise. I'll miss all that out. Promise." She kissed me again and was feeling my shoulders and chest through the heavy cloth of my soutane. As we kissed, I popped one of the buttons on her blouse and slipped my hand inside. She was warm and round, the skin soft and the breast firm. She squirmed against me, her tongue in my mouth again. I slipped my hand up under her skirt and caressed the inside of her thighs. This time her legs opened slightly at my caress, and I could slide my hand up and up until it rested on her cunt. She was naked. She had come on this visit with no brassiere and no panties. It was clear she wanted me! I had the side of my hand between her cunt lips now, feeling the wet and warmth of her excitement.
"Last Tuesday, when I left you and drove home, I found I couldn't sleep thinking about you, Mary."
"Me, too, Dominic."
"I lay in bed wondering what you were like, naked I mean. I got so excited, I mean like I am now." I placed her hand on my cock, hard and erect, and visible even through the heavy cloth. "I got so excited I had to stroke it until I came. And even then I dreamed about you all night, and came again in my sleep."
"I was excited too."
I was rubbing the side of my hand over her lips and clitoris. "And...?"
"I had to bring myself off, too. There! I've said it now!"
"My little darling! I want you to see me. Look!" I stood up and pulled the whole silly uniform up over my head, pitching it onto the floor. My cock stood at forty-five degrees for her!
"Me too." Her blouse and skirt were off in an instant and we stood there, me with my black, shiny shoes and socks, her with white cotton socks and trainers. She giggled. "These too!" And we took off each other's footwear. "Now we can really cuddle and kiss!"
She was small enough and the settee large enough for us to lay together, kissing and caressing. I knew she was exploring a male body for the first time. But she was not timid, and her hands moved over me, cock, nipples, the crease of my arse. I reciprocated, of course.
I lay on top of her, propped on my elbows. I managed to slip one leg, and then the other between hers. As we kissed, she pulled me down on her, my full weight on her breasts and belly. And more to the point, my cock prodding hard against her honeypot. I reached between us and parted her lips with finger and thumb, so my knob was placed inside the outer lips, and hard against the inner lips. We kissed, and I murmured juvenile nonsense in her ear. Finally, as we wriggled and writhed together, my cock just slipped into her. She may have been a virgin, as Intelligence Department has reported, but the physical virginity was no longer in place.
There was a delightful look of shock and horror on her face for a moment, but I was riding her long and slow now, making sure I rubbed her clitoris with each down stroke, and grinding our pubic bones together before rising to shove again.
"Oh! Oh! We shouldn't. Oh, please. No! We. It's wrong. Please, Dominic..."
But her hips were rising to meet mine with each thrust now. I stopped her mouth with my lips and increased the pace and vigor.
I moved my lips to her breasts, taking nipple and a lot of first one breast into my mouth, sucking and licking. Then the other. Her protests were forgotten now.
"Oh! Don't stop! That's... Oh, Sweet Jesus! That's good."
The Enemy's name nearly stopped me in mid thrust. But it was being used obscenely, I realized, commenting on the joy of fornication. (In passing, if I were a real Priest, would that be adultery according to their strange code? Do they mean it when they talk about being married to the Church?)
As she came for the first time, her nails raked my back in her passion, and her legs were crossed over my buttocks. I speeded up to accompany her orgasm. She has strong vaginal muscles, and His Serene Highness Count Rawspite will enjoy the contractions of her cunt if he decides to allow her an orgasm. Even our Infernal Leader, the Great Lucifer himself might appreciate her passion. I reminded myself why I was fucking her. For the glory of our cause, and not for my own satisfaction, and was fortified by the knowledge of the faith Our Leadership has shown in me, a junior cadet.
She was coming again, and I concentrated on maximizing her pleasure. Instinct, of course, was to fuck her and leave it at that. But it is important she becomes addicted to sex, and obsessed by Father Dominic. So I gave her a second and a third orgasm, before I decided to come in her, with her fourth.
We lay side-by-side. She was silent. I suspect she was astounded by the strength of her feelings.
"We should have used....I mean ....I could get pregnant couldn't I?"
I kissed her nose. "I had mumps last year, Mary. I'm afraid I'll never be a father. I mean a father, not a Father!"
"Oh, my poor Dominic!" But I could feel she was relieved.
"I'd like to do that again, Mary. But I'm afraid I'd make you sore. There's another way."
I buried my face between her thighs and lapped at her cunt.
"Oh! How could you, Dominic. It's all sticky..."
I took no notice. Silly girl! The pleasure of sucking a cum-filled cunt ... Well! I was pulling at her clitoris with my lips and licking the length of her slit. Again her hips were rising and falling in the rhythm of a fuck. I reached up one hand and found a nipple. I squeezed it. She was coming again.
"Oh! That's lovely! Mother of God! That's lovely. I'm coming!"
Again the very satisfactory blasphemy!
I said nothing, but placed my knob against her lips. She knew it was my turn now, and I felt it slip into her mouth, wet and warm.
It is said that despite The Enemy's ban on the practice, human females know instinctively how to suck. I can confirm that this one was able to bring me off within seconds, sucking, licking, caressing. I filled her mouth with cum, and she swallowed.
"That was lovely. Can I come round tomorrow? ..."
Twelfth day of the seventh month of year 437698 of our Liberation."I'll just suck you off."
"You've been to idiot Anselm again!"
"No, sweetest. It's just... it's just. Well, I've got my period..."
"Good! Then we'll have some new games to play! Don't believe all that guff about punishment for Eve's sin. It's just God's joke against mankind. He's a vindictive old bastard! But there's a way round it."
As we spoke, I was stripping her, and sure enough, there was that little string! Thank Lucifer, souls here, damned to Hell, don't have any of that feminine nonsense!
I lay her down on her belly and parted her hard little arse-cheeks. Her anus is delightful, light brown, slightly puckered, and hairless, of course. My Lord will enjoy it just as I have. She half-protested as I applied my lips, giving her the kiss sacred to Our Faith. I felt her muscles stiffen under my palms, but then relax as I licked around it and slipped my tongue into her.
"What's that? A scent bottle?"
It was, in fact, a glass scent spray that I had filled with lavender oil for just this opportunity. "My brother gave it to me." This is a lie, of course. But it is so gratifying to lie unnecessarily, purely for the pleasure of deceiving. I sprayed the oil between her cheeks and replaced it on the bedside table. Now I was massaging her anus, slipping my index finger in with each stroke. I felt her arsehole completely relaxed now, and was able to slip a finger into her with no protest or sudden gripping spasm.
"That's nice. But not as nice as..."
"It'll have to do for today, my little darling. You do the same for me!"
We lay side by side, masturbating each other's arses.
"You feel a lump in there, darling? Yes! Just there. That's the best place for me. Yes! like that!"
She had found my prostate. I had three fingers in her now. I could not guarantee not coming with her massage deep inside me. I slipped my fingers out of her and turned her on her belly again. I bent one of her legs to expose her anus. It gaped open from my fingering. I knelt and placed my cock. I pushed.
"Oh no! It's too big! Oh no, Dominic, please. oooooh!"
I recalled the importance my revered Chief places on buggery as a force for corruption, and was gratified to realize his wisdom in these matters. He is indeed an inspirational leader!
I was in her now, knob and half my shaft. I pushed again, and my belly was against her smooth bottom. Slow at first, I fucked her. The pain had gone now, and the protests. I felt her fingers under her body, working away at her clit, between the mattress and her sweet belly. Her hips rose slightly, and I knew I had her. I fucked her harder, as hard and fast as if I had been in her cunt. She was panting, and her fingers worked harder than ever. She was coming. I timed it so that I pumped my cum into her rectum at just the highest point of her orgasm.
I lay on top of her, one hand under, feeling her breast. I felt her move her hand, trapped under her body. As she did so, her anus expelled my cock. She giggled. "That was nice. I mean it felt nice as you slipped out."
"Only as I slipped out?"
"It was all nice, Dominic. But it's nicer in my... you know..."
"In your cunt, sweetie?"
"Mmmm."
"It's better for men, because we've got that sensitive place you found. You haven't."
"Not fair!" She giggled. "If I suck you, can you do me again?"
"Better, you fuck me till I'm hard, and then I'll do you again."
"I can't! But how? I mean..."
"Another present from my brother. It goes like this." As she knelt on the bed, I fixed the strap-on around her hips. "Now! My turn!"
There was no finesse. She just rammed it in and fucked me! I was soon hard, of course.
This time I lay her on her back and entered her. There was room under the strap-on for her to masturbate as I shagged her, and she came when I tweaked her tits, rolling her pink nipples between fingers and thumbs.
After, she would not stop chattering.
"Where did you learn that, Dominic?"
"My brother. When I came home from boarding school for the winter holidays, I had to share his bed. He was about eight years older than me. I guess I was twelve or so. Anyway, he was like a god to me, and the first night, as I lay there, I suddenly reached out and touched him." Ah! The pleasure of lying. The truly involved and superfluous lie!
"Touched him here?" Her hand was on my cock.
"Just there. He was hard. That was not the first hard cock I'd felt, of course. We were always messing around at school. But it was way the largest. In a second, he was all over me, and we sucked each other. Later in the holidays, he showed me how to fuck. When I got back to School, I showed the others, and we all fucked each other for all the years left. And then at Theological College, all the priests fucked, of course. They all do, you know."
"Even Anselm?"
"I expect so. We should find out some time."
"If I come round this afternoon, will you fuck me again. I mean in my bottom?"
The succubus, my 'sister', arrived on Sunday morning. On the pretense of having to go to morning service (my apologies for these obscenities but they are necessary for the report), I left the two together. The succubus had taken the apparent age of about eighteen. The report continues in her words.
They discussed how a white father Dominic came to have a black sister! (I had meant by different color, brunette or redhead, not brown or black-skinned! I accept the error was mine in not making my intention clear. And hope the successful outcome will excuse me.) Adoption, of course! Then Lilith turned the conversation in the desired direction.
"Dominic asked me to come down for a couple of days. There's a party we go to every other month."
"A party! He didn't tell me!"
"Probably thought you wouldn't enjoy it. You're a bit young."
Mary stamped her foot. "What sort of party then?"
"Fancy dress, really."
"What do you go as then?"
"Always the same."
"But what?"
"I'll show you!"
Ten minutes later, Lilith returned, her black skin contrasting with the white satin of her basque, the white nylon of her stockings, and the white leather of her stiletto ankle boots... and multi-thonged whip. She had a long, blonde wig, incongruous but incredibly suggestive, and her shaven cunt glistened with oil.
"Bloody hell! What sort of party is that, Lill? Sweet Jesus!"
"I told you. Fancy dress. I've got a black costume exactly the same. You want to try it on?"
Mary was stripped quickly, and slowly, with much caressing and fondling, the black nylon, satin and leather equivalent was fitted. Her wig was jet black!
"It doesn't cover my... my hair, here!"
Lilith laughed. "Or your sweet little rosy nipples, Mary. Hell! You look good enough to eat." Her arms were already round the girl's shoulders, and she pulled her to herself till their breasts met, and they kissed. Lilith's hand slipped down over the small of the girl's back, over the lacing, hooks and satin, down over her naked arse, and into her crack. She felt the girl tense, but her fingers told her the girl was hotly excited. "Good enough to eat... I want to eat you out, Mary. Like he does! Eat your sweet little honeypot. Like he does, my naughty brother!"
Lilith was pushing her backwards, not at all unwilling, towards the sofa. As she fell onto it, her legs were open, and Lilith fell to her knees between them. Her mouth clamped to that sweet pussy, and her tongue was working at the clit before any protest formed, if indeed any protest was intended. Thighs, in black nylon, clamped round her neck and face, and the not-so-innocent girl raked her cunt up and down the black girl's face: chin, tongue, nose, tongue, chin again.
Lilith reports that the girl came twice.
I can confirm from my own observation that Subject was finally content to reciprocate, bringing our succubus to her completion. She was passive in this, lying on her back, while our little Imp rode her face, racking her cunt up and down till she had taken her pleasure. I watched round the half-open door, and listened as they chatted, arms around each other like any lovers!
"Tell me about the party. Please."
"I shouldn't!"
"Please. Pretty please. We can't have any secrets. Not after.... that."
"Oh. All right. But don't tell Dominic!"
"Promise."
"I'll show you the photos from the last one."
The album of pictures is that provided by Intelligence Services, copy as Appendix 3 to this report. It showed, of course, the naked 'Father Dominic' being led on a dog-leash and chain collar, on all fours, through an assembled throng. Lilith, in her white dominatrix gear, held the leash. Most of the women in the salon were similarly dressed, and most of the men naked and submissive.
"Sweet Jesus! I never knew..."
"I said he didn't want you to know. Does he have you fuck him with that strap-on?"
"Well, yes. He did."
"So you're half-way there. But he likes this as well." 'This' was a page of pictures showing Father Dominic being beaten, whipped, buggered. Particularly impressive was a close-up of his erect cock, with the white cat-o-nine-tails descending on it and on his shaven balls. The opposite page was the whole picture, arms strung high above his head, naked muscles and hard cock straining with the effort of remaining on his toes.
"Sweet Jesus!"
Lilith reached between the girl's legs. The lips were plump, and clitoris erect. "You find it exciting, too."
I walked into the room. "As soon as I'm away, you have each other. Well! I'm going to have some too!" I grasped 'my sister' by the shoulders, stood her up, turned her round, bent her over, and entered her, my skirts raised. With my second thrust, there was a searing pain across my buttocks. I looked over my shoulder to see Mary in her black basque and high heels raising her whip to apply a second lash. The whip fell, and again the delicious pain.I fucked her harder, reaching under Lilith to grasp one breast in each hand. Again the lash! I heard Mary laugh as the whip fell again. I looked over my shoulder again. The glint in her eye showed the pleasure she found in inflicting pain on me. Her black, glossy wig went well with this new persona. How different this young girl from the primly innocent fourteen-year-old of only a month before. I silently congratulated myself as the whip fell again, and I came.
We sat in a row on the sofa, Mary between us. Each of us had a hand on her breast, the other hand free to wander across her body, pressing, fondling, caressing.
'I wish I had a brother...'
'Brothers, darling. You need brothers. Try being sucked and fucked at the same time. I had that from the age of twelve. Often. That's when they weren't fucking each other. I had to suck one of them then.'
'You can have my brother Ambrose when he visits, Mary. You'd like him.'
'Mary wants to come to the s&m party with us, Dominic.'
'Why not?'
'She'll need a slave to take with her.'
'I'll think. Tell me Mary, when you come by yourself in the night, when your pretty little fingers play and dabble here.' My finger was on her clit, teasing it till it was hard. 'Tell me, who do you think about? Who do you fantasize is with you as you come?'
'You, darling Dominic.'
'And?'
'I do believe she's blushing, Dominic.'
Again that disgusting modesty. Still, we are gradually defeating it.
'And?'
'I hardly dare say.... My Daddy!'
'I've seen how your Daddy looks at you sometimes. I should think he has you in his mind when he masturbates.'
'You've seen it too. I wondered if I was imagining it.'
'I know, you see, Mary. I know he wants to have you, too.'
'You know? But how? Oh! I see. Confession! Mummy makes him go. He doesn't want to.'
'And when he's there he does it properly, my sweet. So I'll see what we can do. Now I'll fuck you from behind while my sister and you suck each other. Then I want you to fuck me with the strap-on while she whips both of us.
Twelfth day of the seventh month year 437698 of Our Glorious Revolution.
Count Darkflame was wearing the traditional black and red silk robes rather than the fashionable, modern three-piece suit. But his vestments still revealed that magnificent cock, standing free of them. Ratsbane knelt, compelled to do so by the force and might of the Demon.
'Excellent, Ratsbane. Yes, I prefer these robes, too. Though the suit may well give a desirable impression of efficiency. Your report?'
'Here, Sire.' The buff folder containing my report was placed square and tidy on the great mahogany desk. In summary, she has been buggered, and has buggered me. She has experienced lesbian lust, with the succubus so helpfully provided by The Count Darkflame. She has whipped and been whipped. She no longer goes to church at all.'
'Progress indeed. The sodomy went well?'
'Yes, Sire. I was especially careful, considering Your Altitude's advice concerning the importance of buggery. She has demanded I service her anus several times since. And takes a pleasure in buggering me with a strap-on device, whipping me as she does.'
'Excellent, Ratsbane. I shall read the report later. You have done well. Kneel, and suck!'
Her father had visited me in the afternoon, at the church, answering my phone call.
'Mr Mcpherson, I thought I should inform you of some problems your daughter Mary may be having. I am not breaking the seal of the confessional as she told me outside that sacrament.'
'Problems?'
'She has a fixation on her father, you Mr Mcpherson. She has very adult feelings for a girl so young. She is barely fourteen, I believe.'
'Just fourteen, but developed for her age. She has the body of a sixteen year old.' Again that glint of lust in his eye. These humans are so transparent!
'Well, as she lays in her solitary bed, doing those innocent little things to her body that all young girls do, rubbing, squeezing, pulling, she imagines you are with her, kissing, caressing, yes and sucking and even having carnal knowledge of her.'
'Good Lord!'
I shuddered at the mention of The Enemy.
'Sorry, Father. Forgot myself for a moment. What should I do?'
'She needs to grow through this obsession with her father, and come out the other side as an adult.'
'But how?'
'You must fulfill her fantasies, Mr Mcpherson. You must go to her bed, and make love to her. That will free her. It will be difficult for you, I know. But you must do it. It is your duty.' Again that glint in his eye! 'I fear it is the only way. I have told her that. That you will enter her bed, and enter her. Do you agree.'
'If you say so, Father. If you really insist.'
'I do, Mr McPherson. I really do.'
There was almost a skip in his step as he went down the gravel path, away from the church.
The next morning Mary told me all about it. She was happy and bubbling with excitement.
'I was still awake. It was about twelve. But I pretended to be asleep. I'd left the light on, but dimmed right down. I was lying on my belly. I heard him take off a dressing gown, and heard it slip to the ground. I felt the mattress move as he sat down on the side of the bed. I knew he was looking at me, and I pretended to murmur in my sleep as I turned over onto my back so he could see my breasts properly. Then I muttered again and opened my legs. I'm sure my lips must have been plump and my clit hard and peeping out, just as you like it, Dominic. The mattress moved again, and I knew he was now lying beside me, inches away from me. I turned over on my side, so I was facing him, and made sure the tips of my nipples brushed against him. I heard his intake of breath, as if the touch of my breasts had scalded him. I felt his hand, so lightly, on my shoulder. I murmured, still pretending to be asleep, and reached out. As I touched him, I murmured again, and held him in my arms, still pretending to be asleep. I murmured, 'Daddy, please. Please, Daddy.' And I heard his intake of breath again. Then he was kissing me.
'I pretended to wake up. 'Daddy! I dreamed it was you. And now it really is. Oh! How I've longed for this, Daddy.' Which was true, actually! I could feel his cock hard against my belly now, as we hugged and kissed each other.
'He was whispering, 'My little darling!' and things like that. Then he turned me on my back again, his weight on my tits and belly, and his legs between mine. I could feel his knob exactly where it should be to go in.
'Please, Daddy. No. Not here. Mummy's just through the wall and it would be terrible if we woke her. I'm noisy when I come! Tomorrow. I know a place we can go, safe. Tonight I'll just kiss and suck you till you come. Please!'
'He said nothing, but lay beside me on his back. I started with his balls, licking and cradling them. He's much hairier than you, Dominic. But I did not mind that. Then I bent one leg up and licked his arse hole, like you showed me. He groaned and I told him to shush. But now I played with his cock. He hasn't got this, Dominic. Just a shiny, dry knob!
'He's cut, then, Mary. I love that. I really like a cut cock!'
'Anyway, I had his knob in my mouth and was rubbing his shaft with my fingers and thumb round it. I could feel his hands pressing my bottom, opening and closing the cheeks. He groaned again, and I felt his cum spurt into my mouth. Lovely!
'Then we lay together whispering. I told him how I'd wanted this for so long. And he said he'd wanted me since I was twelve, when my tits first started to bud, and I had the first little fluff of hair here. Every time he fucked, either his wife or some hotel whore, he pretended it was me. He had managed to see me naked, through the bathroom keyhole, and often came thinking about my tits and bottom. I told him I had seen his cock, too, but not magnificently hard and erect like just now.
I had him suck my tits, partly to stop him talking, as I was afraid he would wake her up. But I love my nipples sucked, as you know. Then I sucked him hard again with my finger in his arse like you taught me, and wanked and sucked him till he came.
'Before he went back to his own bed I told him to come here after work. I told him about you and me, and said I'd like to have both at once! Also, that you were bisexual. And, would you believe it, he is too. He'll be here at six, five if he can slip away.'
Ten past five he hopped out of the taxi, and swiftly up the gravel path, round the church, and to my rooms.
We were waiting. Mary answered the door wearing a see-through shift that I'd bought especially for this. I heard the front door close, and then their kissing. I heard Mary undressing him, there on the doormat, and her passion as she stripped him.
'Let me see. Ooh! Lovely. Huge. Lovely! You wait. Now the socks. There Daddy. That's what I want. In here. Dominic's there. He's been playing with me a bit while we waited. So we're both pretty hot! Hey! Get your finger out of there. On second thoughts, that's nice. Mmmm. leave it there while I walk in front.'
They entered the room, she first, her tits clear through transparent red nylon, and her pretty cunt hair just visible. He was right behind her, his hand grasping her between her legs as they walked.
I stood up. Erect!
'I think you two have tricked me.'
'How else could we ...?'
'I don't mind. This is close to my vision of paradise. A lovely teenage blonde, and a handsome, smooth-skinned young man with a beautiful hard cock!'
She stood beside him.They had an arm around each other's waist. She held his cock with her free hand. He cupped her breast with his. Her head scarcely reached his shoulder, and as she leaned on him, the long golden locks flowed over his chest as well as hers. For me, the scene was made doubly exciting by the knowledge that the defining sin of incest was about to be completed. We have, of course, had possession of his soul for many years. We were about to gain hers. Fornication, even with the refinements of oral and anal sex, is, of course, merely venial, as is lesbian involvement. Incest is mortal, according to The Enemy's ridiculous rules!
'So what first, Jasper? The lovely teenage blonde, or this willing, smooth-skinned arse?'
She giggled, in a 'high' state. 'Later, Dominic. I've waited years for this.'
'And so have I.'
He was on top of her, and deeply into her in seconds. I lay beside them, stroking my cock and watching our triumph. I watched her fingernails rake across his back, tearing hair and skin, as she came for the first time. He seemed not to notice as he fucked her as fiercely as any Demon with a new soul to play with. He did not come, though I could see the effort in his sweating face. He lifted himself slightly and caressed her breast, pressing and stroking, tweaking the tiny, rosy nipple between finger and thumb. Now they were close together again, kissing, as their bellies crashed together. She came again, and I saw her hand slip down to his buttocks. Her finger, glistening from her own juices, slipped into his anus, just as I had taught her. Now he came, a great, shuddering orgasm that went on and on as he emptied his cum into her, an orgasm that had been waiting for two years of silent, secret lusting.
I turned round on the bed, so that when he rolled off her, we were head-to-toe, as it were. His cock was still half-hard, and wet from his and her cum. I rolled him, unprotesting and still half-dazed from the force of his first orgasm in his daughter's cunt, onto his side so his cock was inches from my face. He will be a popular fuck when he joins us in Hell. His cock is straight and very light-skinned. Strangely hairless for such a hairy man, and crowned with a pretty red knob, foreskin quite loose. I took it in my mouth.
His daughter was watching, and she sat up on the bed. 'Suck Dominic, Daddy. I want to see two men playing. I never have. Look how lovely his cock is.' I felt his hands on my waist and arse, and the warmth of his mouth around my cock. Mary got up from the bed.
We sucked each other, excited as one always is with a new partner. Then Mary was standing over us on the bed, legs astride. There was a sudden searing pain across my buttocks. She had the black leather cat-o-nine-tails, and was using it on us as we sucked each other. I felt Jasper wince as the lash caught him this time, the flinching of his hips driving his cock deep into my mouth. She laughed, and it was my turn again. I could see her legs and cunt, the lips all swollen and parted, her clit standing hard and peeping out. A drip appeared. His or hers, I wondered. But the lash fell again, and as she stood over us, whipping, I saw her fingers play over her cunt lips, rubbing and stretching them, and then tweaking and pulling at her clit. The lash descended once more, and she was coming again.
'Don't come, Daddy. I want to see you fuck Dominic!'
'And then I get to fuck him back?'
'Yes! Kneeling, Dominic.'
'So you can whip us?'
'Of course!'
Intelligence Department had, of course, reported his rather frequent homosexual adventures, and it was clear he was experienced in anal sex. He spat on his cock and was up me as smoothly and efficiently as any Senior Demon. He slapped my arse as he fucked. Then there was the sound of a lash hitting his arse. His thrust was even harder that instant, and I heard him squeal. Out of the corner of my eye I could just see the muscles of her belly and thighs contract as the lash descended again. And again the harder thrust and squeal. He was close to coming, and the third lash tipped him over the edge. I felt his fists pummel my back as he came in me.
'Now you, Dominic. Quick!'
I spat in my hand, moistened my cock and was into him, kneeling in front of me. The purpose was not merely to fuck him, but to establish her willing compliance in the act. Indeed she had insisted on it. Was this possibly the same fourteen-year-old girl we had recorded deep in prayer only a month earlier? Deep in prayer she may have been, but she was deep in my arse now. As I shagged her father, so she knelt behind me, and shagged my arse with the strap-on dildo I'd given her.Too much hair for our modern taste. When she reaches Hell, she will doubtless be made to shave and exhibit that pretty, plump mound. Mary threw the shredded lingerie to the floor and picked up the whip I had given her.
She showed no mercy, lashing the naked woman's thighs, belly, and breasts.
'Hey! Don't spoil her tits!' The Doctor was concerned she would break the delicate white skin.
'I'm only going to sharpen her up a bit. I think they look nice pink, don't you?' The lash fell again, this time the leather thongs cutting into her open thighs, and one of them finding the whole length of her slit. 'Still, that'll do for now. You want to fuck me, Doctor?'
She lay on her back across her mother's naked body, her thighs raised. I watched the Doctor kneel between her legs, his cock at a forty-five-degree angle, suggesting a vigorous fuck. He wiped it the length of her slit and lubricated before entering her. It was a satisfying moment as it guaranteed her promiscuity. Me, her father, and now a comparative stranger. I watched as they fucked, writhing in each other's arms. Soon I was hearing the familiar sounds of her first orgasm, and saw her nails claw his back in her passion.
I amused myself with a pair of tweezers I found by the bed, selecting one pubic hair at a time and tweaking it out. Soon I had cleared an area of one cunt lip perhaps a half square inch. By the way she wriggled and arched her body, despite the weight of the two bodies fucking across it, you would think I was really torturing her. In passing, when she reaches us in Hell, she will be a most amusing subject, with a low tolerance to pain.
I heard Mary come a second time, and now they were kneeling. I watched his cock glisten as it reamed in and out of her cunt, not her arse, and listened to the smack of belly against buttocks. My game with the ginger cunt hairs was palling, so I decided a different form of torture. I lay on top of her and whispered in her ear.
'We're going to kill you, my sweetie. The Doctor's going to kill you. Perhaps he'll inject you. Perhaps it would be more fun to strangle you.' You would have enjoyed her fear-filled eyes, Your Altitude. 'Yes, that would be more amusing. But first, we're going to rape you a bit.' My cock was placed, and I pushed. She was dry and tight, but I managed to get the knob past her lips. 'Teach you to sneak to Father Anselm. To the Bishop.' I pressed harder and was in her. As I fucked her, I whispered, 'She fucks well, your daughter. Can you hear her? I taught her that, my sweetie.' Beside me, the Doctor had come, and they were laying beside me now. The Doctor reached between us to feel our victim's tits. It was time for me to come.
My cock moved easier now her cunt was filled with cum, and I shagged on for a minute or two. The Doctor was speaking.
'Ride her face, Mary, while he fucks her. She can't bite with that gag.'
Mary was astride her face, and grinding her cunt up and down. I knelt so I could enjoy fondling Mary's tits and belly while still fucking her mother. I noticed the Doctor getting hard again as he caressed his victim's breasts. I leaned over and licked the shaft of his cock. He laughed and pushed his knob between my lips. Probably because of this, Mary was coming again, her cunt raking up and down her mother's face, making it glisten with her and the Doctor's cum.
I came again and pulled out.
'My turn at her now!' The Doctor immediately replaced me. His cock slid in easily into the cum-filled cunt. He had his hands round her neck. 'I'd like to strangle you. Always wanted to, sanctimonious bitch. But, Mary, take that pillow and cover her face. Now, when I tell you to, press down on it. I want to feel her death-throes as I come.'
And so Mary became completely and indisputably our property. On the Doctor's instruction, she smothered her mother. The body arched as if in orgasm as he unloaded his cum into her.
The Funeral Directors arrived for the body soon after, and Mary's father soon after that, to hear of the happy news.
'I shall prepare the death certificate as soon as I'm back to the surgery. Heart failure, I think. I can write up some notes showing I've been treating her for a heart condition for years. An early cremation, I think?'
He was still hard. So was I. As her father undressed, I entered Mary's arsehole. The Doctor held her father in his arms. 'And I've always wanted you, Jasper. Kneel for me...'
Twenty-seventh day of the seventh month, 437,698th year of Our Great Leader's triumph.And such a pretty arse. But not for me, Mary. An altogether more august personage will enjoy you first. And I have the honor to lead you to Him. But why not?'
He forced her to kneel, and as he parted her robes, she saw his great red and purple cock towering from the unbroken mat of black hair. She knew what she must do. The crowd shuffled past, uncaring, as she lowered her lips... | 5 |
79,502 | Convent Girls | 'Theresa. What have you got in your hand? Bring it here. Bring it here at once, girl. It's no good trying to hide it. I've seen it. And I know who passed it to you.'
Disaster. The note Sisi had passed when they thought the History teacher's back was turned was disastrous. In bold block capitals it read: 'RUB YOUR HARD LITTLE CLITTY ON MINE.'
Slowly, reluctantly, Theresa stood up and walked to the front of the class. The other girls (but not Sisi!) were tittering. Sister Angelica read it, and blushed bright scarlet. She gulped. All sorts of unwelcome thoughts and feelings were rushing through her head. At that moment the school bell rang. The lesson was finished. 'My study, after chapel this evening, Miss Theresa.' She swept out still holding the offending slip of paper, her black habit swishing behind her. Despite her trouble, Theresa couldn't help thinking that the light summer fabric showed Sister Angelica's good legs and bottom, especially when she rushed about...as she usually did.
Mother Superior heard Sister Angelica's complaint with a worldly indifference. In the thirty years she'd taught at The Convent School of the Faithful Virgin, she'd heard all this before, and so many times. Sister Angelica was burbling on, increasingly strident and upset, waving the crumpled piece of paper.
'I'd suspected Sisi and Theresa were too close. It's unhealthy. And she's brought all sorts of disgusting ideas....yes, and practices...from her own country. We can't have her corrupting our girls. Rubbing their....their...' she couldn't bring herself to use the word...'rubbing their parts together!'
Mother Superior looked at the young woman, only half listening. She protested too much. Probably a suppressed lesbian, like so many of the nuns she'd known over the years. Such a pity. The girl was only twenty and yet she pretended this almost middle-aged virtue. She was too pretty to be wasted like this.....she must have a lovely body under those severe robes. Time was she'd have helped the nun to come to terms with her sexuality, learn it was God-given and should be embraced gladly. Yes, she'd helped so many nuns learn the pleasures and fulfillment of lesbian love....including rubbing clitoris to clitoris as in the offending note. She addressed her mind again to the immediate problem. Yes. So much better for the schoolgirls to get their pleasure together rather than risking pregnancy or disease with boys....or worse still men. 'Faithful Virgin. Virgo Fidelis.' It might have been true once, but she doubted there were nowadays many virgins by the time they got through the summer holiday between fifth and sixth form. How much better old-fashioned girlish fun than all this premature heterosexuality. Yes, it was sensible to encourage lesbian 'crushes' among these teenagers, if that protected them from the lusts of boys and men for a few more years! Angelica was still holding forth.
'They must be split up. Sisi must not share a room with any other girl....she cannot be trusted not to seduce her room-mate. And Theresa will share with a girl I know to be pious and Christian. And Theresa should be beaten. Sisi should be too....but I fear we would have trouble with her family if we did.Mother Superior was silent while she thought. She looked the tall, willowy figure of Sister Angelica over and thought that even now, at her age, she would enjoy that body with its long limbs and firm bustline! She wondered why Sister Angelica wore flimsy, lacy underwear under her severe black habit. Black underwear, yes, but certainly intended by the makers to be sexually provocative rather than somber. Probably the woman's only acknowledgment of her own sexuality. She would look very tasty in those flimsies, as seen from time to time on the communal washing lines! Good Lord! Even at her age she was aware of a hot feeling! Mother Superior she might be, but she was a woman.....and she promised herself a few minutes with her faithful dildo as soon as this disturbing young nun was finished.
No, she was not going to allow them to be split up. If they were lucky enough to find pleasure even at that young age, she would not destroy it. 'You take too severe a view of these matters, Sister Angelica. These teenage affairs are harmless, and soon pass in most cases. And there is something of beauty about them. Did you never as a young girl?....Well, perhaps not! But you have missed a beautiful experience. No, they will continue to room together. But in the matter of discipline in class...yes we should do something. If you really must, you may beat her. But not to really hurt, and not with a cane or whip.'
As soon as the troubling body of her young nun was well out of sight, she locked the door and pulled the light armchair in front of her antique cheval mirror. Tipped at the correct angle, this would let her watch her solo pleasures. A dildo from the locked desk drawer, and with a sigh she sank into the deep chair. Her best friend, Bob, her B(attery) O(perated) (Boyfriend). She pulled her heavy black robe up to her waist and opened her legs. Not bad, she thought. Not bad for nearly fifty-five. Legs still good, and....thank the Dear Lord.....no grey in her glossy black cunt hair. Her cunt was moist, and the dildo slipped easily up and down her slit. As she watched in the mirror, she thought first of the two young girls 'rubbing their clits together'. And sucking, she had no doubt. She was getting more aroused, and as she switched the vibrator motor on, she thought of Sister Angelica. She was sure the prude was not as pious as she wished to be thought. Those two girls had excited her. How the Mother Superior wished she could, wished she dared..... But, no. No, she could not attempt to seduce Sister Angelica, as she would have done when she was younger, before she had the burden of the title she bore. One hand slipped up under her robes, and she fondled her breasts.....she still wore no bra. Still good tits, she thought, but Sister Angelica's would be delightful....with the black lacy bra just for decoration, not for support. She was getting close now! As she slipped the vibrator into her cunt, pulling and rubbing her clitoris with her other hand, she imagined pulling those lacy panties aside and kissing, licking, mouthing. It was too much. She watched her body arch, reflected in the mirror, as she came. Good! That would set her up for the day!
With some trepidation Theresa made her way towards her appointment with the cane. In the corridor, tall and echoing, where a dozen or so of the nuns had their apartments, she paused as she saw an unwelcome figure. Father Benedict watched the girl approach in the gloom. As she crossed through a dusty beam of sunlight, he could see the shape of her hard little breasts under the cotton blouse. No bra, he thought, and unconsciously he licked his lips.
Theresa avoided his eyes. She knew he was looking at her body, undressing her in his mind. He was even licking his lips. Dirty old sod! And he was standing where a huge, tall bookcase narrowed the corridor. He pretended to stand aside as she passed, but she knew his game. With a shimmy of her hips, and ducking low, she avoided his outstretched hand....aimed at her tits. She was past him, but could almost feel his eyes fixed on her bottom.
He wondered whether her tits would be freckled too. No, he thought. Milk-white with rosy little nipples. And was her cunt hair red-ginger, or blonde like her golden hair. Blonde he hoped.
She knocked on the heavy, iron-banded oak door.
Later that evening.
'Did she hurt you, Theresa....... Sister Angelica?'
'Not much, really.'
'Let me see. Oh, my poor Theresa. It's all pink and sore! Here let me kiss it better..It feels hot against my cheek. Let me soothe it . What did she do?'
She made me stand there with my hands behind my back while she walked round me lecturing me. I think that was the worst bit. It was so humiliating, and she was getting so excited about it. She kept muttering 'rubbing, rubbing' in the middle of her shouting. Then she tried to get me to say what we do...in bed.'
'Oh no, Theresa.'
'Oh yes Sisi.' Theresa imitated the pompous, pious voice of the young nun...'I know you sleep in the same bed. Tell me what you do. What do you do together, young lady?What does she do to you? What do you do with her?'
'You didn't tell her.......'
'No. But I was tempted. To teach her a lesson. Suppose I'd said we suck each others' breasts, feel each others' clits, and lick each others' cunts. And Sisi fucks me with a strap-on dildo.That'd stop her in her tracks!'
'You're terrible. But what happened then?'
'She was red in the face now. But finally she calmed down, and said she was going to punish me. Not with the cane I deserved, but with the flat of my hand. She made me bend over the arm of her easy-chair, lifted my dress hem up and caught it in my knickers, and smacked my bottom.'
'Good job you weren't wearing your scarlet silk panties....or she'd have given you a few more.'
'I had my white satin ones on....and thought I'd get extra for not wearing cotton. But I'll tell you something....she liked it. At any rate after one slap she stopped and I could feel her hands, both of them, rubbing and stroking me! But only where I wasn't naked. And then another smack!.'
'I'm kissing it better!'
'Mmmmmmm. That's nice. You're making me squirm. Well, now she decided to have me over her knees. So I had to bend over her lap while she sat on a wooden chair. She slapped me twice.....it didn't hurt, just tingled really. Then I was slipping off her lap, because her habit was a bit shiny. So she made me kneel up, while she pulled her habit up round her waist, and then had me bend over her thighs again.'
'Her naked legs. Sister Angelica? I can hardly believe it.'
'You haven't heard the half of it. Not naked legs. Black, glossy stockings. No, I'm not making it up. Black stockings and a black lace suspender belt. And...you won't believe this...and black, lacy knickers, with an almost transparent panel at the front. No, Really! I could nearly see her cunt.....and I could see enough to see she must shave it, like you, Sisi. And you could see her pouting cuntlips. And she was wet, like you're making me. I could see she was dripping-wet.....and that made the panties even more transparent. There was a wet patch right down the crotch.. I tell you, I was getting quite excited as I lay across her knees. I could have sucked her, I tell you!'
'And she would have liked that from what you say. Anybody would .....you're sweet! Even the holy Sister Angelica....'
'I tell you, she was blushing red, and panting, and I could feel her squirming under me. She was pushing me down onto her lap with one hand in the middle of my back so my tits were squashed against her. She kept caressing my bum, and then slapping it some more. We've got to try that sometime, Sisi....I was nearly coming just from that! And as she felt me, her finger kept pressing against my cunt, and even my bottom hole. I tell you, Sisi, I was getting really wet.'
'Did she pull your panties down?'
'No. That was it, really. She made me get up. And she let me go without another lecture....which I'd expected.'
'I bet I know why she was in a hurry. What she did as soon as you were gone.'
'What? Oh yes. I should think you're right, Sisi.'
'I'd like to see her legs....and her bottom, and her tits. And I wouldn't mind being spanked....no, not at all. And I think I know what to do about it....'
Father Benedict was lurking as before. He watched the buxom girl stride, almost arrogant, down the corridor. Her nipples stood firm like hazelnuts, showing through her dazzling white blouse. He knew, from magazines he had bought surreptitiously in shops behind the Central Station, that black girls had tight, crispy cunt hair, like tiny coiled watch-springs. How he wished he could see it for real.....he never had a chance to spy on the girls....though he knew the shape of several of the nuns' bodies....and the colour of their cunt-hair.
Dirty old bugger, thought Sisi. As she passed him, his hand grazed her breast, pressing the erect nipple. If he asked she'd let him cop a feel.....maybe even fuck her tits! But not this sneaky groping. And if he wanted her arse....she could feel his eyes boring into her as she walked towards the heavy door....well, why didn't he say? Fuck him, then! She knocked at the door.
'Come!' Sister Angelica put down the book she was studying and looked up. She was surprised to see it was the young black girl from form 4a. 'What do you want, Sisi NDoko?'
Sisi thought to herself the nun would be surprised at what she really wanted, but she answered as she had prepared, and practised with Theresa. 'I was ashamed, Sister Angelica.'It was my fault I wrote that note and passed it in class. Not Theresa's. And she was punished, not me. I didn't think that was fair...and nor do the other girls.
'So what do you want, girl?'
'I want you to punish me like you did Theresa...and then the other girls will be nice to me again.'
Sister Angelica looked at the girl, and could feel her heart beating too strongly, with a tight feeling under her breasts. Sisi could sense this, and also see the nun's color rising. She guessed Sister Angelica was feeling the beginnings of excitement between her legs, just as Sisi was. 'That is easy, Sisi. And you are very right to seek atonement. Yes, I shall punish you just as I did your accomplice...What are you doing, girl? What...?'
In amazement, she watched as with two easy gestures Sisi undid a button and let her skirt fall to the floor, and lithely pulled the cotton blouse up, over her head and onto the floor. The gesture showed her breasts off to the very best effect. In between two blinks of Sister Angelica's lovely brown eyes the girl was naked.
'My Mother always makes me undress before she punishes me if I've been naughty.' She deliberately showed the nun her round, plumping bottom as she bent to retrieve the clothes, folding them and laying them on the edge of the nun's desk.
Sister Angelica knew she should tell the girl to put her clothes on again, and that if she didn't she would be embarking on a road from which there would be no turning back. But the girl was so beautiful with her full, firm breasts, nipples standing. Breasts that defied gravity, as if the nipples were being pulled upwards and outwards by some invisible thread. And her bottom. It jutted out, pert, like her breasts, lighter brown than the rest of her shining, ebony skin, rounded and strong. She longed to caress it. Her heart was thumping, and her clitoris was tingling. As the girl bent over, Sister Angelica could see her black cuntlips, shaven, plump. And when she stood up again, facing the desk, her shaven mound, and the lips swollen with desire, and the pink clit just peeping out. She longed to lick it, and stroke her rounded belly. Theresa had been almost boyish in the hardness, slimness of her body. But this black girl was all rounded contours, luxurious and opulent, promising hot and energetic sex.
In the event Sister Angelica had no choice. Whatever her belief in 'free-will' she had none. The combination of years of repressed lesbian urges, of the fire in her cunt, of the sexiness of the young girl, and above all of Sisi's obvious willingness made her decision inevitable. 'Well, if that's the way it is done in your home, that's the way we'll do it.' She lifted the upright chair round to the front of her desk, and as she sat down again raised her habit so her legs were uncovered. Her black stockings shone and Sisi saw that she did indeed wear skimpy black underwear. 'Over my lap, young lady.'
But Sisi had her own ideas. 'In my country, we do it like this, Sister Angelica.' And she knelt in front of the nun, her tits resting on the naked flesh above her stocking tops. A hand on each thigh, she parted them, and moved up the carpet so her face was resting in the lap. Each hand now rested on the nun's thighs, and as they closed on her she felt herself being held firmly between those long, strong, graceful legs.
'That's how we do it, Sister Angelica.' The nun looked down at this vision, held completely immobile. Leaning forward over the girl, she could reach that lovely arse. She slapped it, slapped it hard, and felt the girl flinch against her. Again she slapped her, and again that exciting wriggle. She was sure her cunt was running wet! She looked at the back, waist and bottom, so desirable, so smooth, so exotically black. Lost to all decorum now, she caressed the shoulders, then the waist, and then that lovely bottom. As her hand slipped into the crease between Sisi's buttocks feeling past the secret rose to that hot wetness, Sisi knew she had won, and slipped her face under the rumpled, rolled up black habit and right into the nylon-clad crotch. The scent of arousal was strong, and the nylon was damp. She nuzzled with her nose, and then with her open mouth.
'No, Sisi, we shouldn't. No, really...Oh!' Sisi had grasped the nun's erect clit, and a fold of the thin nylon panties in her lips, and pulled at it. The nun's thighs rose involuntarily to meet her. Sisi slipped a hand between them and pulled the scanty fabric aside...and licked the full length of the cunt. The nun's hands rested on her shoulders, as if pressing her into that secret place. No boy or girl had ever done this (or any other sexual act) to her. But our pious nun had nonetheless had plenty of solitary exercise, and this girl was fulfilling her secret masturbatory fantasies.
'Oh, Sisi, that's lovely. I never knew...Oh! Ooooooh! Sweet Jesus! Yes!' Sisi's finger slipped into her cunt, and then her little finger into the tight arsehole. 'Oooooooh! Like that! In and out! Yes, Both places. And suck. Yes! More! Oooooh!'
Sisi felt her come. For a moment she was worried about the noise of the orgasm, but no-one came to the door. And the panting nun lifted her till she was kneeling upright between her legs. Sister Angelica leaned over and kissed the black girl on her lips. 'Thank you, Sisi. I could have gone through life and not known that. So strong. So intense...But I'm selfish. You. What can I do for you?'
'What you really want, Sister Angelica. Exactly what you want. Look, I'm so excited.' She stood up, and showed her swollen cuntlips, glistening with lust.
'On my bed, Sisi. Through here.' She took the girl by the hand, and led her. Her free hand rested lightly on that pert arse, feeling the strong muscles moving under her palm.
'You're very lovely, Sister Angelica.' Sisi had giggled as the nun had pulled her billowing habit up over her head, getting it stuck on her wimple. Her legs and her bottom, lacy panties and all, were very fetching as she struggled to release herself. Now it lay discarded on the floor beside them, and Sisi was holding the taller figure against herself, her breasts pressed into Sister Angelica's back, her hands one on each firm breast, her belly making fucking movements against that full, rounded arse. 'You're very lovely, Sister Angelica. And these are sexy, but I want them off.'
It was as if roles had reversed. Sister Angelica stood there feeling like a young girl as she submitted to the desires and commands of this much more experienced partner. She stood motionless as Sisi unclipped the bra and slipped the panties down. Both naked, they embraced, breasts crushed against breasts, tongues playing together. 'Sweet Jesus, I wish I'd done this before...'
'You know what I want now...' Sisi was giggling as she knelt down on the bed. 'What I said...' She wriggled her bottom as the nun knelt beside her. She was absurdly still wearing her wimple. What did the girl mean? Sister Angelica supposed she wanted to be licked, as she had in turn been licked.
'Spank me, Sister Angelica. Spank me like you spanked Theresa.'
Why did she want this? She fondled the ebony buttocks, excited still by the feel of smooth skin and the flowing roundness there. Well, if that's what she wanted. She slapped one cheek, not very hard, and then the other. The bottom wriggled beside her. 'Harder...please,' please..' This time a really hard, stinging slap, and another that seemed to echo round the tall ceiling. She stopped and again caressed Sisi's bum. Another slap, and another. The nun found she was enjoying this...her cunt was awake again, even after the enormous orgasm of minutes before. As she slapped now, she noticed the girl's body was arching towards her to meet each blow. It was then she realised that the girl was enjoying it, was enjoying the pain. She reached under and felt her erect nipples, tweaking them hard, and then ran her hand down the crease between her buttocks, and round to her cunt. She was wet, hotly aroused. Amazingly, she liked being spanked!
'Please!' Now the blows rained down onto willing flesh, faster and harder as both became more excited. Sister Angelica's free hand slipped down to her own cunt, seeking out her clit, and pressing the side of it as she had long known to gradually increase her arousal. Sisi was now making little squeaking noises and panting, while still demanding more and harder spanking. Finally she threw herself over onto her back, legs wide apart, ebony cuntlips swollen and apart to show the amazing scarlet of her inner lips and clit. 'Now! Suck me now! Make me come. I'm nearly there. God you look lovely, do me now!'
Without thought, Sister Angelica was lying on her belly, her face pressing against the open, wet cunt. Her hand still rested against her own clit, pressing the side of it. Two hands seized her hair and pulled her face even closer to the silky folds. The wimple came away, and was thrown aside. Now her head was held firm, while Sisi raised and lowered herself so her cunt raked the length of her partner's face, clit and lips rubbing on nose, mouth and chin. She was coming, and the squeaking noises were alternating with grunts and finally piercing screams of delight. Sister Angelica was masturbating with her free hand, fingers now running over her clit and into her cunt.
Sister Erica was passing the outer door when she heard the noise. She stopped. Sister Angelica was having a nightmare! She ought to wake her and spare her the horrors. Her heart raced as she thought of Sister Angelica...perhaps she slept naked...or perhaps in a lacy see-through nightie, like the pretty underwear she washed out and hung up among the white cotton of the other sisters. It would be a kindness to wake her, and virtue might have the reward of seeing that lovely body.Sister Erica pushed open the door. The door to the sleeping room was ajar, and the noises still came from within as she pushed it open.
Neither girl saw the tall, slender blonde in her black robes, standing in the doorway. Sisi had her eyes closed as she was reaching the peak of her orgasm, and Sister Angelica had her face tight into the girl's crotch. Sister Erica watched, enthralled, as the woman she lusted after brought herself to orgasm, her fingers now one in her vagina and the other in her anus, fucking in and out, while with her other hand she pulled and pushed at her clit. She could see her lovely breasts, still firm and upright even though she was lying on her back. Long legs, firm belly. Belly moving up and down as if in the sexual act.
Standing at the door, Sister Erica reached up under the hem of her habit, and felt for her own cunt, that demanded satisfaction. And yet she had eyes, too, for the other figure. She recognized Sisi Ndoko. Her breasts no less firm and nipples puffy. And her cunt raking up and down her bed-partner's face. She watched them come, noisily, and as they came, had her own, quieter orgasm.
As the couple lay motionless on the bed, she silently pulled the door to again, and left.
Minutes passed before Sister Angelica pulled herself up the bed to lie beside her new lover.
She leaned over and kissed the black girl lightly on the lips. Leaning over her, she whispered her thanks, her gratitude not just for two orgasms, but for the liberation from years of repression. She lay back again, but her hand rested lightly on the girl's bosom.
'And I never knew....Theresa told me how good it was to be spanked. I half believed her...but I never knew.' She leaned over the nun, and kissed her in turn. 'Did you come again?'
'Mmmm. You are very beautiful.' She was running her hand, light as a feather, over the shining skin, breasts, belly, thighs.
'Kiss me!' They hugged and their tongues touched.
'Tonight! Tonight, come to our room, and Theresa will show you her strap-on. I'd love to kiss you down here...' her hand was between them, nestling between the nun's thighs...'kiss you down here while Theresa's fucking you. And then you could do Theresa or me.'
'Mmmm.'
She had had a quick wash-down, and washed out her sweaty and wet undies, and was walking over to early evening chapel, enjoying the warm sunlight, tolerable now after the heat of the day. A voice from the undergrowth beside the path. 'Sister Angelica. Sister Angelica, can you help me.' She recognised Sister Erica's voice and her slight Scandinavian accent. It was gloomy under the overgrown laurel bushes, and she had to stoop and push past hanging branches. About twenty yards into the thicket, and still the voice ahead of her somewhere. Intrigued, she continued. Suddenly she was back in the blinding sunlight. A secret, hidden glade....long, fine grass, and wild flowers in great abundance. A magically beautiful place. She stopped, dazzled. Without warning she was pinioned from behind, two hands feeling her breasts, a body pressed against hers. She struggled. A voice in her ear. 'Don't struggle, Sister Angelica. You see, I know about you and Sisi Ndoko. I saw you and her. I've loved you since I came here, and now I know my love is not in vain.' Her neck was licked, and then kissed, as the hands squeezed and caressed her breasts.
'We......I.....We were just.........'
'I know what you were doing, you lucky girl!' With a laugh, Sister Erica released her and was standing in front of her, about three feet away. Sister Angelica felt for the second time that day the tightness in her chest, heart beating. She recognised this now as being love....or at least the anticipation of sexual pleasure. She took in the figure. As tall as her. Short, cropped hair, so blonde as to be nearly white. Dazzling in contrast to the all-over golden suntan. Her breasts nearly conical, as if straining upwards and outwards, with small, hard, pink nipples. Long, slender legs, and a hard, boyish bottom. Just the lightest fuzz of pubic hair, a tiny powder-puff, the same ash-blonde as her hair. Sister Angelica's hand went to her bosom.
Sister Erica mirrored the gesture, her own hand holding her left breast. She laughed. 'You, too, Angelica? My heart's beating, too.'
As she spoke, Sister Angelica was pulling her black summer-weight habit over her head and casting it to the ground. Both nuns stood naked in the evening sunlight, naked except for their white wimples.
'Can't catch me!' With another girlish laugh, Sister Erica slapped Sister Angelica's bottom with an open hand and scampered off across the glade. 'Can't catch me!'
A child again, with the freedom of a child, Sister Angelica found herself laughing too.....she had not laughed much in her life...and running after the lithe, athletic girl. At the far edge of the glade the blonde had to stop. Sister Angelica grabbed for her. Both girls were laughing now. 'Got you!' Momentarily she had one arm round her waist and the other over those pert breasts. But Sister Erica slipped, downwards, through her grasp, and was off again. 'Missed!' Another slap on the buttocks as she went.
'I'll have you!' What with laughing and panting from exertion the words were difficult to get out. 'I'll get you!' They were back where they started, beside the two piles of black cloth, when she caught up again. This time she grasped the struggling girl, and forced her to the ground, holding her down with a hand on each shoulder. Still with all her weight holding her down, she shifted so she was sitting on the girl's belly. Now she leaned forward, so the weight of her chest held her immobile. Both girls were panting from their exhaustion, bosoms heaving. But they stopped laughing and were suddenly silent as they embraced. Sister Angelica could feel the sunlight on her body, the soft grass under her, smelling of crushed thyme and mint, and above all the hard, but soft too, body of Sister Erica pressed against her. They kissed, hands wandering, seeking out breasts, hips, shoulders, bottoms.
They rolled in the grass, sometimes the slim, golden body of one on top, and sometimes the fuller, rounded, olive-skinned body of the other. What could be more natural, than in the course of their play they, without knowing how or on whose initiative, suddenly were lying in each others' arms, head to tail, as it were.
For the second time that day, and the second time in her life, Sister Angelica found herself tonguing a hot, hard clit. Sister Erica, amazed by the strange....to her....shaven mound and cuntlips was fondling that unaccustomed smoothness, the hairless mound resting heavy on her face, soft against her cheek. But it was thrusting against her face, insistent, and she obliged by opening the lips and kissing the nub.
In the bushes Father Benedictus leaned back against the trunk of a laurel. He had been rather dismayed when the two girls had scampered away from him, across the grassy glade. But overjoyed again when they chased back, and collapsed scarcely ten feet from his hideaway. He had often watched Sister Erica sunbathing here, either by herself or with one or other of the nuns with whom she had sex. Sometimes, if he was lucky, there would be three, or even four naked girls, behaving in a most un-religious way. But seldom was he lucky enough to have the display under his nose as it were.
He lifted his black skirts, and wedged the hem under his rope belt, leaving his cock free. Slowly, carefully, he teased it up to full erection, and with a loose grip ran his hand up and down the shaft. The display was good today, with the two girls heaving together in their passion. Sister Angelica was on top finally. He had never spied on her before, and guessed rightly that this was new to her. The nuns no longer confessed to him since he had used the confession of Sister Nadia, gone from the School now unfortunately, to blackmail her into sex with him ......his only regret that he had allowed her to get away with a bit of sucking. Now he would have had the lot, cunt, arse, tits, mouth, hands....the lot! He could scarcely use that weapon now, as most of the nuns knew the Nadia affair, and would use it to ruin him in his turn. Sort of mutually-balanced deterrent! But he was still pretty sure that Sister Erica had seduced the innocent, and apparently rather prudish Sister Angelica....and that she would not confess it.
He was glad they kept their wimples on. He had seen Sister Angelica hang out her washing. What a pity she hadn't worn her lacy undies and stockings today. The combination of white wimple and black underwear would be so memorable!
He studied her naked arse, scarcely daring now to touch his cock. She was humping, as if fucking the mouth of the blonde. Sister Erica's hands grasped the rounded bottom. He could see the marks her grip left in the soft flesh. He lifted his binoculars.....didn't really need them, but he always brought them in case the action was too far from his cover. Still gently fondling his own cock, cradling his balls, tip-touching his anus, he adjusted the focus till the scene was clear, magnified, as if beside him. He could see her brown, dimpled anus, and the scarlet gash of her cunt....so clearly. And as he watched, he saw Sister Erica's finger enter that moist, hot vagina, wanking in and out. He wanked harder, scarcely able to hold himself back now. And then.....oh joy! the glistening finger slipped out of the cunt, and gently into that secret arsehole. It wanked in and out, as far as the first knuckle. His hand flew faster and faster, and he dropped the binoculars to penetrate his own anus with his free hand.He felt it coming and watched the white globules fly into the air, to drop into the dry, brown dust in front of him.
As ever, he felt immediate shame and guilt. How could he? The sin of Onan, allowing his seed to fall to the barren ground! The Bible was adamant. It was damnation! He let his robes fall into place and rushed away through the bushes. As he ran, he could hear first the whimpering squeals of one girl, and then the deeper grunts of the other, as they found their own natural and guiltless pleasure.
'She'll be here in a couple of minutes.'
'Are you sure she'll come...I mean, she may have second thoughts.'
'She loved it. She'll come. Let's pretend we're asleep, and let her wake us up!'
Sisi was naked. Theresa had her best, red see-through panties...to tease, without hiding a thing. And when she had shaved Sisi's cunt that afternoon, she had allowed Sisi to shave hers, so it was white and smooth, lips swollen under the transparent nylon.
The door was ajar, and the two nuns quietly entered. The scene was delightful. Both beds had been stripped of all but the base sheet and pushed together. The two teenagers lay side-by-side, Theresa's arm casually lying across Sisi's belly. White flesh contrasted to black.
Sister Erica held her finger to her lips, and in silence the two stripped off their habits. They removed each other's wimples, and silently embraced next to the bed. Sister Erica pointed to herself and then to Sisi. This suited her companion, who, after all, had already enjoyed the black girl, and was looking forward to the blonde. She watched as Sister Erica kissed, oh so lightly, one black nipple, and when it was erect and hard, licked the other one, until that too stood. Sister Erica watched as her companion's white hand, nails trimly manicured but innocent, of course, of varnish, first felt Theresa's pouting lips through the flimsy red nylon that hid nothing, and make it go darker with the moisture. Then the hand slid down into the panties, and she saw a finger slip into the moist alcove. The 'sleeping' girl moaned and raised her hips. Sister Angelica leaned over and, still fingering the willing slit, gently kissed her milk-white but freckled breasts. (Yes, Father Benedict had been half right...freckles and rosy-pink nipples).
Sisi pretended to wake up as a hand and probing finger felt down into her naked lips. 'Sister Erica. How lovely.' She spoke softly and lazily as if waking from slumber. She reached up with both arms and pulled the nun down onto her breast. This was the cue for Theresa who 'woke' and spoke. 'Sister Angelica. Like you promised. We got so excited waiting for you that we brought each other off and went to sleep. You can feel how ready I am.' She was still raising and lowering her hips against the penetrating fingers, but she too reached up and pulled the nun down onto her, till her hard little breasts were pressed against the lusher bosom of her lover. She felt down between them, and found Sister Angelica was just as excited as her.
All four lay on the bed, fingering, caressing, kissing. There was no awkward embarrassment as their lust overcame all inhibitions, even between nuns and teenage girls.
Theresa was the first to break the spell. 'Who wants to meet Iron John?' She giggled and broke the clasping embrace. All three watched her as she climbed on a chair and reached to the top of their wardrobe. She stood on the chair, aware of the effect her lovely young body was having, especially on the nuns. She opened a cardboard box and took out a contraption that seemed to be a collection of red leather straps...'Ta Ra! Iron John!' Still standing on the chair, she untangled the straps, and within moments the nuns saw what it was. The strap-on dildo stood out proud and long from her still-slim hips. The red straps were fastened by buckles, one behind each thigh, and the other in the small of her back. She was obviously used to fixing it as it was done with no hesitation, but she used the opportunity to turn round, bend over, squat etc, all to show off her body.
She jumped lightly down from the chair. The dildo jiggled in front of her, but not her tits, firm as only a teenage girl can be. She stood by the bed. 'Who's first.....no, not you Sisi. You've had him once today already.'
'You promised me!' Sister Angelica sat up on the bed. 'And you've already got me all wet and hot.'
'Me after, then.' This from Sister Erica.
Sisi sat up too, though she and Sister Erica were still gently fingering each other's cunts. 'You want to watch this. I've never seen Theresa do anyone else....and we don't have a mirror for me to watch her do me.'
'Don't stop!' Sister Erica opened her legs even wider and they watched the fun. 'It looks terribly big...Will it go in. She's rubbing it up and down the outside. Look at her bottom as she kneels. Sweet Jesus, she's got its knob in. And look how Sister Angelica is lifting her belly to meet it. What a lovely rounded belly.....and lovely plump lips.'
'That's nice. Can you slip a finger in my bottom too. Yes! Like that. Look at them go at it now. Theresa's right on top. Look at Angelica's face. She's gone. Look! Jesus, she's enjoying it. It's not too big for her. And listen to her....Did you ever hear such language?' Sisi was giggling, and Sister Erica found her fellow nun's obscenity amusing too. 'And from a Nun. Would you believe it. I wonder where she learned those words.'
'Some of the Nuns are not as innocent as they look. I could tell you some....but look, I think she's coming. Look at her face, all flushed. And Theresa going at it like a real stud. Does she come too?'
'Not while she's fucking.....but she gets so worked up that it only takes a touch afterwards! She's come....look they've stopped. Now move that finger in my bottom as well. Shall I?' She felt round to the Nun's tight, virgin asshole with her slippery index finger.
'Oh no!'
But the finger slipped in, and moving in and out, gently, slowly, taught Sister Erica something new....and something she would never forget.
'Oh! Oh! I never thought. Oh, Sisi....Oh!' She slipped down the bed, collapsed, and the probing, black fingers slipped out of her cunt and asshole. 'I never knew! That was lovely!'
Theresa removed her rubber cock from Sister Angelica who lay there, eyes shut, breathing deeply, a smile on her face. She knelt beside the other two. 'Your turn now, Sister Erica.'
'Oh, but I couldn't. I just came.....'
'All the better. And you don't know what coming is until you've met Iron John.' She grasped one tanned thigh in each hand and pulled the legs open. 'Lovely cunt hair. I love blonde cunt hair. Mine was blonde before this naughty girl shaved me.' She stroked the glistening cunt, her fingers combing through the blonde curls, and tip-touching the pink clit that just peeped out. She crossed her fingers and, giggling, showed them to the Nun before plunging them into her vagina. 'Candles?' The Nun nodded, and they both laughed. 'No problem, then.'
This time she lay direct on top, placed the dildo exactly over the welcoming hole, and with a steady push of her hips entered. Sister Erica's slim hands were round the teenager's back, fingernails digging into her buttocks as they fucked. Theresa was whispering in her ear, but what the words were, obscenities or endearments, the other two couldn't hear. Sister Angelica looked at Theresa's cunt lips, like a purse from behind, and suddenly wanted to kiss them. She bent over the couple and her lips were on Theresa's shaven cunt. Each time the girl lifted, to shove in again, her tongue penetrated. The girl's anus brushed the nun's nose. Sisi was fondling a breast, her hand infiltrated between the two bodies. It was Sister Erica's breast of course...she'd often played with Theresa's, and a new toy was more exciting. On a sudden impulse, Sister Angelica slipped her tongue into the secret, puckered hole. This spurred Theresa to even greater efforts. Iron John went faster and faster. They wriggled and writhed as she humped the nun. And Sister Erica was coming.....and if her squeals and screams were anything to go by, the promise of an even bigger orgasm was being fulfilled.
'Now us!' Sisi reached under the bed and produced a gadget neither nun had even dreamed of. A double dildo: two cocks joined by a pink, flexible rubber tube. She knelt in front of Theresa and unbuckled 'Iron John'. 'You play with this!' She gave it to Sister Angelica who was buckling it on while Sisi inserted first one end in Theresa, and then the other in herself. She lay on top of her friend, and they embraced, both bellies and hips moving.
They had all finished....for the time being. 'There's one thing worrying me.' The three looked at Sister Erica. 'You won't any of you go confessing this, will you. Especially not to Father Benedict.'
'I don't confess anything like that....not that I've had much to confess till today.' Sister Angelica blushed.
'We don't confess that either. And we've got plenty to confess.' This with a giggle from Sisi.
'Father Benedict's creepy. He's a dirty old man. He's always trying to touch you.' Theresa shook her head.
'Me too,' said Sisi.
'It's worse than that. I know he creeps around trying to see the nuns naked. There's a place where some of us play together and I know he hides to watch.' Sister Erica shook her head too.
Sister Angelica was shocked. 'Not where we.....'
'Yes, Sister Angelica. Exactly there.'
The lovely brunette blushed with shame. 'That's terrible.'
'But it's not the worst. Did you ever hear about Sister Nadia?' She told the others of the blackmail, rape, and disgrace of the lovely novice.
Sisi was thinking. 'We should do something about the ugly old sod.'Another sunny afternoon and another visit to his personal sex-show for Father Benedict. He leaned against his usual tree and carefully parted the overhanging branches. The good news was there were four nuns, the bad news was that they were sitting in a circle talking. Another appeared over the far side of the glade and was walking towards the group. He focused his binoculars, and to his delight, recognized Sister Mary Wong. Of all the nuns, she was his favorite, and five at once. This could be one of his best sessions. She was up with the group now, and he could easily hear their happy greetings. She stood there a moment and seemed about to sit down in a space they had made. He was in luck. She hesitated and then, with a flowing, graceful motion, pulled her habit up over her head. Her wimple followed, and then she sat down, using the black robes as a cushion.
She was facing him. He studied her breasts and felt his cock hardening, making a tent in his hassock. Time to get down to business. He pulled the hassock up and over his head and grasped the cock. She was wearing panties, dazzling white against her olive-lemon skin. Pity, he thought, as she had such a delightful cunt, with its wisps of straight, fine, black hair.
He was masturbating now, but slowly. He felt the afternoon might become an orgy, and he didn't want to waste that. Slow and steady, he ran his fingers up and down his cock.
Suddenly, a flashing light. Two more. Another. Shapes in the gloom. He was dazzled. What was it? His free hand was grasped and twisted behind his back, the binoculars falling into the dust. Now he could see...naked flesh. Sister Angelica, Sister Erica, and the young girl Theresa. He was protesting...his arm twisted right up to his shoulder hurt. But as he protested, so the pressure increased, bending him double. His face was level with the three cunts...he would never know whether Theresa had ginger or blonde cunt-hair. She was shaven, like Sister Angelica. A knee in his back forced him forward, brushing against the flesh he had so lusted after. Now he was in the glade, his naked shame exposed to the nuns, all of whom had jumped up when they heard the noise of his protests. His captor forced him into a kneeling position, facing four naked women and four in nuns' black habits. His captor joined them in the semi-circle, and he saw it had been the black girl, Sisi NDoko.
'Who is your confessor?' The naked Sister Erica seemed to be in charge.
'I said, who is your confessor?' Still no answer. 'Who brought the cane?'
'I've got it.'
'Give it to Sister Angelica, Sister Chastity. She's best with it. Now, unless you answer, you'll be caned. Now, who is your confessor.'
Slowly and with ill grace, 'Father Murphy.'
'Oh, please, Sister Erica. Let me cane him. Just a bit. I'd so like to, please.'
'Just one then, Sister Angelica. To let him know what will happen if he refuses anything.'
Sister Angelica's shaven labia were mere inches from his face when she leaned over him and touched his arse with the cane, making sure her aim would be accurate. She raised it and dealt him a stinging slash diagonally across his white buttocks. The red weal rose immediately as he lurched forward, his face hitting her naked belly and mound. 'Shouldn't do that, Father Benedict!' And she gave him another slash. Again, he screamed and lurched forward against her. He saw her labia had swollen, had parted, and her pink clitoris was peeping out between them, gleaming and erect.
'That's enough, Sister Angelica.'
'But it's so exciting!'
'I can see that!' She brushed her hand against the naked lips, before raising it to her face to scent the girl's arousal. 'And do you confess to him that you spy on naked nuns and jerk off using them as sex objects?'
Silence. 'The cane, Sister Angelica.'
One stroke. A third red weal, now making a triangle on his buttocks. Another scream. Another, deliberate this time, lurch towards the naked flesh inches from his nose.
'I shall take it, then, that you don't. Well, we intend it to stop. Sister Mary Wong, put your wimple on him.'
'What, I mean...?'
'Silence, you! That's right, adjust it properly. Now, Theresa, a few photos. Facial. Make sure none of us are in the background. Now, did someone bring Sister Angelica's pretties?'
Sister Charity giggled and reached up under her robes to produce a tiny bundle of black lace and nylon.
Sister Erica sorted them out and held them loosely in her hand. 'I'm sure you know what these are for. You have seen Sister Angelica in them often enough. Now you put them on.'
He started in astonished horror. 'No...I...please...'
'The cane.' Another swish. Sister Angelica was very obviously aroused, and Sister Charity was grasping her own cunt, though her habits. 'You'll make your habits all wet, Sister Charity! Cane him once or twice more, Sister Angelica.'
Sister Charity had her hand up under her robes now, and her fingers were busy in her cunt. Theresa was hugging Sister Mary Wong, one hand on a glorious, firm breast, the other down the front of her dazzling white panties, fingers busy there too. The other nuns were watching, entranced.
'Help him, Sisi.' Father Benedict had managed to get the stockings on, but couldn't fasten the suspender clips. Sisi did this and then fastened the lacy bra over his mean chest. 'Just the panties now...' He stood there, ludicrous, in the circle of giggling women and girls. 'Doesn't look as good as you in them, dear Sister Angelica. But it's still worth a few photos, Theresa. Make sure you get his legs as well as his face. Good! Now, Sister Mary Wong's habits. Put them on!'
And he did look a bit like a nun...aged and withered, but a nun nonetheless! Theresa took some more pictures.
'Show us your legs. Lift your robes and show us your legs! Higher! Oh, dear...he's lost his erection! Sisi...'
Sisi put an arm around his shoulder and, taking his hand, placed it on her breast. 'There! That's what you wanted, isn't it.' She lowered her voice and whispered in his ear, 'And how would you like to rub this between my tits.' His hand was pressing and squeezing her, making up for many lost years, as she felt down, feeling for his cock under the black fabric. 'My word, you certainly would like that, wouldn't you.' Louder now, 'He's nicely hard again, Sister Erica.'
'Lift your skirts, then.' Theresa took some shots of his stockinged legs, cock peeping from the waistband of his lacy panties, and made sure his face and wimple were in each picture. Despite his embarrassment and his apprehension, the naked flesh, and especially the fondling and caressing, and even more especially the unaccustomed feel of the stockings on his legs...all this conspired to keep him hard.
'That's enough...you're enjoying this too much. Take those robes off.'
'Can I cane him a bit, please, Sister Erica.'
'Later, Sister Chastity. Later. First, we need some pictures of him masturbating. Lie down. I said lie down on the grass!'
He lay there, ludicrous in his wimple and scanties. His cock was hard, but he was trying to cover it with both hands. 'I couldn't, please, I couldn't.'
'Nonsense...you've done it often enough. Sister Charity, the whip!'
She stood over him, trapping him on his side between her ankles. He looked up and saw her cunt part-open above him. He groaned...misery and lust inter-mingled. Her tits jiggled as she brought the whip down. It stung him, and he screamed, but his full concentration was on the girl's body looming over him. Involuntary, his hand was moving up and down his cock now, but Sister Charity treated herself to the pleasure of caning him twice more, before Sister Erica called her off.
He lay there, his eyes half closed, jerking his cock with one hand and feeling his knickered buttocks with the other. His eyes flitted from figure to figure, but mostly between the beautiful black girl and the oriental nun...who had removed her white panties now. Theresa was taking photographs of his humiliation. He knew that, but the great imperative was his cock and his rising orgasm. He felt it build and build, and finally got his release as his spunk flew, spattering over his suspender belt and stockings, oozing now onto his hand and down onto the lace of his panties.
'Did you get that, Theresa?'
'Yes, Sister Erica. I'm sure I got several shots. I've shot off four films.' Theresa looked carefully at the white pools, remembering what Sisi had told her. She was tempted to dip her fingers in and rub it into her tits. But there were too many watching, and in any case, she suspected a withered old man's cum would not work like Sisi's vigorous young lovers.
Father Benedict's usual shame after coming was magnified. Terribly so. He hid his face in his hands.
'We've done with you now. Look at me when I speak to you! I said we've done with you now. Can you think of any reason why we shouldn't send a set of these photos to the bishop?'
'You wouldn't...You couldn't. No...no.'
'Dressed as a nun...black stockings and underwear...and enjoying an al fresco wank! What will the dear old man think?'
His misery was complete. Tears of shame and trepidation filled his eyes.
'This is what you will do. You will go to the bishop and resign your post here. Tell him the work is too onerous for you at your age. Understand? And we'll just keep the pictures as insurance, but not show them. Understand?'
She was magnificently dominating, he thought. Naked and proud. He nodded his agreement and relief.
Theresa was still thinking about cum. 'Sister Erica, can he tell the bishop that a younger priest would be able to get closer to the girls and young nuns?''A young priest would have our confidence.'
'Younger, and more handsome, I suppose! You girls! But why not. Tell him he should send a younger man, preferably just out of the seminary. Now you can go. Do you want your underwear, Sister Angelica?'
'I don't fancy it, covered in his stuff.'
'Take that wimple off. Now, just go. And if you're still here tomorrow, the pictures go to the bishop!'
He scuttled back into the bushes, and if he had stayed, which he didn't, he would have seen the triumphant girls celebrate their victory in the way they most enjoyed. | 4 |
79,555 | Summer Job | 'Mensae, mensae, mensas, mensarum, mensis...' Lancelot was smiling as he recited the conjugation, and it lit his face up. With his golden curls and teeth so perfect, you would have suspected cosmetic dentistry, but he was only fourteen. It was difficult for me to concentrate on the job. I got up and walked behind him while he recited.
I was only here because I had drawn the fourth ace to go with the three I'd been dealt. Choy had drawn inside to fill a straight flush to the queen. And that was where a friendly game of poker had got serious! I'd punted all the cash my father had given me to spend the long summer vacation in the USA, and had only stopped raising when it was all gone, and because I felt sorry for my opponent. Sorry!!
So here I was tutoring for the summer. Harry Spode, 4th Viscount Spong had interviewed me for the job. A pompous ass, and puritanical too. I was to improve his son's Latin and Math before he started at Harrington, his father's old school and mine too. Lancelot recited on... He had the loveliest, fine, blonde hair at the nape of his neck, which itself had a beautiful bronze tan. His shoulders were still shapely rather than manly. As he leaned forward, I could see half an inch of tanned skin, firm flesh, at his waist. I could feel my cock hardening. My mind wandered back to that farcical interview.
'You are studying Philosophy at Oxford?'
'PPE, sir. Politics and Economics too.'
'But you have good Latin and Math? No-one left Harrington without an adequacy in both. I am most keen that Lancelot should shine at our old school. And you are, I believe, an athlete?'
'Gymnastics, and Graeco-Roman wrestling, sir.'
'Excellent. We have some horses and mats and stuff. I shall have them set up in the barn. Mens sana in corpore sano, eh?'
I did not correct his Latin!
'I have one concern about Harrington.'
'Surely not, sir.'
'Oh yes! I tell you, my boy, in my time it was a hotbed of homosexual practices. A hotbed. I tell you I was terribly abused, terribly...'
I looked at him. Even now, with his floppy blonde locks tinged with grey, you wouldn't kick him out of bed. I guessed he must have been a popular bed-partner! 'Nothing like that in my time, sir.'
'Relieved to hear it. I expect Pendlebury got hold of the place and stamped it out. Good man that.'
I hid my smile. Headmaster Pendlebury was the randiest of the lot. His idea of a pleasant Sunday afternoon was to get a handful of the prettier boys round to his study for a naked romp. He liked to be fucked in the arse by one of the seniors while watching the pretty young lads suck and caress each other.
He had called his son in. And suddenly the prospect of two months in the country did not seem too bad. I was almost drooling as I shook his hand!
'Amo, amas, amat, amamus....' He was declining his verbs now. I wondered if he knew how provocative he looked, how goddam sexy sitting legs apart like that. He had slipped forward on the polished wood chair, so his shorts were tight round his tanned thighs. And more to the point, the cotton was stretched tight over his crotch. I could just see enough of the outline of his cock to make my own twitch appreciatively. Probably didn't know, but there was something instinctive in the way young boys exhibited themselves. I wondered if his fluff would be golden-blonde, or ginger-red. I hoped the former. I clapped him on the shoulder.
'OK, you've convinced me. We don't have to start from the beginning! But that's enough. Let's check out the gym your Old Man has set up for us.'
He had done well. Wall bars, parallel bars, a couple of horses, a box, medicine balls, and a good-sized mat. There were also a heap of towels and some singlets and shorts. Also some scarlet nylon swimming trunks, still in their shop-wrappings.
I suggested the trunks. Lancelot turned chastely away from me as he slipped his shorts down and the trunks on, so I did not (yet!) see his prick. But his hard little bottom was delightful, a triangle of white, soft skin, contrasting with the gold of the rest of his body. I made sure he had the full view of my own cock as I changed.
He looked good, very good. But he really was too slender for his age. His legs were long and slim, but not enough muscle there. And his arse was still a boy's, when it should have been starting to develop manly contours. So we started with lower-body strengthening exercises. I must admit to showing off, hanging from the wall-bars, raising my legs. I enjoyed watching him repeat the exercises. Then the press-ups and the medicine ball work. We were both hot and sweaty by the time we had spent half an hour. I let him finish off with some vaulting, and he was fairly good at the more simple exercises. I enjoyed briefly catching him each time he landed!
I ended the session.
Lance picked up a towel. 'I'm for a shower.' I watched his red-silk arse as he walked from the barn to our suite. His father had given us the guest cottage. It had four bedrooms, but shared the bathroom and showers. I gave him five or so minutes before I walked in, quietly.
I stood for a moment in the doorway, watching. He was in the bath of clear water. There may have been only one bath, but it was huge! The boy lay there, soaking in the warm water, making little waves as he jerked himself off. I watched entranced as his fist moved up and down a straight, slender shaft, his eyes closed in his pleasure. Then he realised I was there, and stopped. He blushed.
'I...'
I interrupted his hesitation. 'Don't stop, Lance. There's nothing better after a work-out.' I pulled my trunks down and kicked them away. The sight of his body and hard cock had made me half-erect. A couple of shakes and a bit of rubbing and I was as hard as him. I was jerking now, as I walked over to the bath. He started again. I could see his eyes fixed on my cock and balls as I stood over him. Then he spurted, and little streamers of white cum floated in the clear water. It was enough for me, and I came too, my spurts of cum joining his floating in the water.
'That's better.' I reached down and held his hand, pulling him from the bath. 'Better shower that cum off!'
In the shower I soaped him, and he soaped me.
The holiday job had started well. I was being paid for this!
The next morning, gym again. I taught him to complete a vault with a somersault, and he was pleased with his progress.
I got into the bath with him this second time.
Large as it was, our thighs were still pressed close together in the warm water. His cock bobbled, limp, knob floating just above the surface. I was at least half-hard. He made the first approach, resting his hand on my thigh. My cock went instantly erect, and he giggled as he reached and grasped it. I held his cock, squeezing and teasing it till it too was erect. He was just gripping me, but I was jerking him now, and he soon followed suit, running his fist up and down my shaft.
I longed to lick and kiss that tanned shoulder, but decided it was too early yet. So I just jerked him off. He came first, a little fountain spattering into the water. I came seconds later: watching cum always has that effect!
Our next gym session, he asked me to start to teach him classical wrestling. I don't have to tell you how pleasant it was to feel his body writhe and wriggle as we struggled together. I never get hard actually wrestling, though the same actions on a bed would make me instantly erect. I showed him a couple of throws, and had him practise them. Then we had an actual bout. I let him succeed twice, to keep him encouraged.
Then I threw him, arranging it so he finished on his back, me on top of him. I held his legs down, one hand on each thigh, my weight on his chest, and my legs splayed over his shoulders. The bout, in theory, was over. But with just the slightest movement, my face was in his crotch, and I was nuzzling him there with my nose, his cock beneath the red satin trunks we had worn for decency this first time. He was not yet hard, his cock laying sideways across his belly. Through the cloth I took it in my mouth, nibbling it as if it were a slice of melon. It was stiffening. I released his thighs from my grip, and eased his cock and balls out of the trunks, pinning the cloth down the side of his balls. And his knob was in my mouth. I sucked hard and let the shaft slip deep into my throat.
That groan of pleasure, and the short, quick thrust of his hips as he tried to get even more of my mouth. I was gobbling away at him now, all pretence of wrestling gone.
I felt his mouth on my cock, still shielded by swimming trunks. He nibbled it, and I groaned. Then, as I lay on top of him, I felt him pull at the waistband, lowering them till they were over my thighs, my cock and balls naked for him.A tentative lick, then his lips around my cock, then half the length in his mouth, and then the full shaft.
We caressed each other, his hands firm on my arse, squeezing and stretching it apart, me caressing his thighs, and rubbing his cock with my free hand as I sucked on it.
It did not take long, of course, this being his first ever, and he was coming in my mouth. He still sucked at me as he came, and the taste and feel of his cum made me cum too.
Later that afternoon, sitting side-by-side under the great oak tree, only a hundred yards from The House, but on its blind side.
'I had no idea it could be so good.'
'I love sucking, Lancelot.'
'I wish you'd call me Lance.'
'I will. You've got a lovely lance, Lance.'
We were in our trunks again, this hot summer day. He moved that six inches closer, and our thighs touched. He slipped his arm around my naked waist, and I draped mine over his shoulder. 'Let's wrestle naked next time, like the Greeks did.'
'How did you know that, Lance?'
'I guessed. And I knew they made love man-to-man.'
'We will, tomorrow.'
His free hand rested on my bulge now, and I reciprocated, feeling his cock.
'Tell me about School. You went there like Dad? Tell me, is there a lot of sex?'
'Lots. Was there sex at your Prep School?' 'Not really. Not for me. A few boys perhaps, but not many.'
'Well, you'll find at Harrington they're all at it.' He was hard again. I wasn't yet. What it was to be an eager teen with instant recovery!
'The younger boys mostly jerk each other off, though some of them like to suck.'
'I'm glad of that. Do you ever kiss? Boys I mean...'
'I love it.' I leaned towards him and our lips met. It must have been some little girl who taught him to kiss like that, I thought. Passionate, and his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. We were handling each others' cocks now, and I had his out from his trunks again. We kissed for a long minute, and then came up for air.
'That was nice, Lance. You have a talent you know. Anyway, at Harrington you'll find boys in twos and threes all over the place sucking and kissing. In the dormitories of course, but in fine weather all over the campus!'
'What about the older boys?' He had my cock out now, too, and was stroking it gently.
'The same, really, though some of them are into fucking too. You soon learn that at Harrington.'
'Not sure about that....'
'Of course not, not till you've tried it. Anyway it's only really easy for those seniors they call 'Lions'.
'Lions?'
'Heads of Houses, captains of sports, scholars. The really important seniors get their own studies as a reward. Most of them will have a boy to keep their bed warm for them every night.'
'Different boys?'
'Sometimes a boy will really fall for another, and then it's just the couple. But often they like to ring the changes, and have a different boy each night.'
'I think I'm in love with you...'
'And me with you, Lance. Anyway, you'll be in great demand. You're so pretty! They'll all want this lovely lance here. (I was stroking his cock, which had a little drop of pre-cum in the eye). And your lovely arse.' I pulled him to me, and kissed him again, one hand on his cock and the other stroking his hips now.
'And the masters?'
'Well all of them enjoy a young cock from time to time. But Pendlebury... he's the Head... I guess he's the most fun. He has his Sunday afternoons, after Chapel. He likes to get a half dozen or so of the freshest, prettiest young boys to suck each other off while he's fucked in the arse by one or two senior lads. And I expect you'll go into Nelson like your father , and me too as it happens. Well, Boothe, the Housemaster is a bit odd. He likes his cock, too, but only the very prettiest. I expect you'll qualify! He likes his boys to put on stockings, high heels and open-crotch panties. Then they kneel for him and he shags them in the arse. Bizarre. He used to dress me up as Alice, blonde wig and blue ribbon, white shoes and all. And then have me suck him off.'
'That sounds nice! I mean especially the tarty high heels and stuff.'
'I'm glad you think so, because you're certain to be selected.'
'Were you? Glad I mean.'
'Oh yes!'
'Could I come to your bed tonight....keep it warm, like?'
'Now that would be lovely!'
'And would you teach me to fuck, please. I mean I should learn before I get to School.'
'OK. But better stop doing that if you want me to fill your bottom with cum tonight!'
You could see he was nervous. He'd spent an age in the shower, while I waited on the bed, naked and hard.
Then he walked in, naked, his cock limp and hanging gracefully from a light blonde, fluffy fleece. His eyes shone in the evening sunlight, and his white tan-line concentrated my eyes on his cock and pretty, slim arse. He lay on the bed beside me.
'You do love me, don't you?'
'You know I do, Lance.'
'Then I want you to...'
We fell into each others' arms, and his tongue was in my mouth again. I felt his cock harden against mine as we embraced.
I turned him over on his belly, and parted the white, smooth cheeks. His arsehole was pretty, pink and puckered. I bent over him and pressed my face between the cheeks. Then I licked, round and round the anus, before penetrating with a pursed tongue. He giggled.
'That's lovely.'
'Everyone likes to be rimmed...'
'Don't stop!'
As I caressed his back and bottom, and rimmed his arse, I felt his whole body relax, and not only his arsehole itself. He was going to enjoy his virgin fuck, I was confident. Which would mean he would be back for more. Happy days for me, and later for his schoolmates and teachers!
My tongue was slipping in and out easily, and pleasant as this was it was time to move on. I planted a kiss in the small of his back, and then turned him over.
'Are you going to....?'
'Soon.'
The baby oil was handy by the bed. It dripped over my fingers and some went on the sheets. I pulled him to me with one arm and as we embraced kissed him. At the same time I penetrated him with my index finger. The rimming and the oil meant it slipped in easily. His tongue flickered in and out my mouth as I masturbated his anus. He was totally relaxed there, and I soon had two fingers up him. Only occasionally did a spasm grip me. He was ready.
We had been laying side-by-side. I moved so I was above him. His eyes were shining and his face flushed with excitement. As I propped on one elbow, his hand encircled my cock.
'Now?'
'Yes, Lance. Now.'
'You do love me?'
'Yes, Lance.' I had oiled my cock, and was placing it. His hole was slightly open from my fingering. The knob slipped in with very little pressure, and then, slowly, slowly, the whole of my length.
I was, of course, gentle, and moved slowly in and out. He knew what I liked and was teasing and tweaking my nipples as I fucked. His cock was hard, bobbing in front of me. One hand left my nipple and he was wanking as my cock slipped in and out. He came, two pretty spurts over his belly. I remember thinking he had more cum now than when we first jerked off together. His hips were rising to meet mine, and I was able to fuck harder, faster. His arms reached up to pull me down onto him, and he had the full weight of my body as I came in him, pumping deep inside.
In the morning I dreamed that Patrick, my college room-mate, was sucking me. I woke to find the much prettier Lance was gobbling my hard cock. I held his un-combed curly head in my hands, and shagged up and down while he gobbled.
'I thought you'd do me kneeling. I didn't know men could do it that way.. I mean missionary. I was sure you'd do me from behind.'
'It's nice to see your cock and your face while we fuck. But would you like it kneeling. You've a lovely arse, young Lance!'
'Please!'
This was all at least ten years ago, but I can still remember the thrill I got from caressing that white, smooth arse, from parting the cheeks and seeing the hairless, pinky-brown anus, so prettily puckered, like a rose. And then it darker and gleaming from the baby oil I applied, and rubbed in with my index finger. And then the way he wriggled provocatively, and giggled when I slipped my index finger in, up to the first knuckle, and then all the way, till my hand rested in his crease. I caressed his bottom with my free hand, as I reached under him to find his cock. He was hard! In the same rhythm I jerked his cock in time with my finger slipping in and out. Then a pause, and my thumb, seeking out the shape of his prostate inside there. His even more excited and exciting writhing as I masturbated him, cock and arse.
I was so hard it felt as if my cock was of steel, and with wings! I placed the knob, and eased it in. He sighed, leaning back on me slightly, forcing the shaft deeper and deeper till my thighs rested on those slim buttocks.
'Do me hard, this time. Please!'
I fucked as fast and furious as I could, still remembering to jerk him, and kissing and licking the back of his neck, his shoulders. He turned his head and we managed to kiss. I felt him cum in my fist, and with his tongue in my mouth, I came as well, a huge, balls-aching orgasm.
We collapsed on the bed, him still impaled by my twitching cock.
Those were golden days. His Latin and Math came on apace, and his body strengthened and matured with daily wrestling and gymnastics.But most of all, his cum became more and more, almost daily, and we fucked or sucked as much as six times a day (or more accurately, night and day).
Even his father noticed. "You seem to have been good for the boy. Would you consider spending the Christmas vacation here? As well as Lancelot, his cousins will be here, both boys, both about his age."
Would I not! And paid as well!
We said our goodbyes finally with a sustained bout of sex. I made him promise to visit me at Cambridge during the half term. "You'll like my roommate, Patrick. He's a rugby forward, and built like one. If you think this is big, wait till you see his!" "I'll see if I can find a friend at school to bring along too. Make a foursome!"
"You little darling! Here, kiss me again." | 4 |
80,551 | Blessed perversion chapter 11 | 'My name is Robert and it was my wife who first started fantasizing about making it with other people. I'm fifteen years older than her and had been around, before we got married, while she came to my bed a virgin. After six years of marriage, during which our sex life was fun and varied, she began to feel as if she'd missed out by not having had any sexual experiences before marriage. She is very passionate and needs a lot of attention and demands lots of energetic sex. It was around that time that she started making up stories, while we made love, and they became more and more graphic. She'd describe a scenario which usually was about another man screwing her while I watched and urged him to screw her even harder. The phantom lover would be enormously endowed and very masterful and would be able to keep going for hours. Now and then she threw in a fantasy about me screwing another woman, while she watched, but she didn't bring the same realism to those scenarios that she did to the ones where she was the center of attention. In fact, I believe that she only slipped those in to keep me sweet while her growing desire to screw another man grew stronger. These fantasies greatly excited her and I went along with them and enjoyed some fabulous sex.
A few times I pretended to be this other man and it almost worked. Once I picked her up in a pub. She'd dressed the part and had gone in first and I took her to a hotel room where I paid her to have sex with me, as if she was a call girl. Another time I dragged her into the park, at night, and pretended to be a rapist. The sex on those occasions never failed to be sensational and after that I spent a lot of time trying to dream up exciting scenarios to satisfy her growing demands for more outrageous sex. She didn't actually nag but she never lost a chance to mention, whenever we made love, her curiosity about what it would be like to make love with another man.
I have to admit, at this stage, that I felt a certain amount of guilt because, due to a childhood illness, I wasn't able to sire a child and I knew that Annabelle dearly wanted a baby. It was this guilt which decided me to take a chance and I decided to make her fantasies real. I really felt that if I didn't set it up she would look for another man, on her own, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen.
Richard, a colleague at work, had once confessed to me that he and his wife were swingers. I'd glimpsed his dick, as he stood at the next urinal, and it was as big soft as mine was erect so he fitted the bill. Over lunch I told him what I had in mind. He listened quietly and said that they were giving a party, the following weekend, and that I should bring my wife and he would try to ensure that somehow he got my wife on her own. I told him that I wanted to be present when my wife was seduced by another man, but he told me that it would make it very much harder, but he could assure me that I would be able to watch without my wife knowing, if not the first time, at least during subsequent times.
Annabelle wasn't that keen to go to the party because she didn't know anybody, and it took all my persuasive power to get her to go. Strangely, it was I who now longed to see her in the arms of another man. I knew that Richard was very experienced besides being well endowed, so was the perfect man to make Annabelle's fantasy come true.
We arrived a little late and the party was in full swing. Richard was charming and I could see that Annabelle rather took to him. We were introduced to their friends and did a lot of socializing and had plenty to drink. After a short while, I could see that my wife had begun to relax as we danced, drank, and talked with some of our fellow guests.
Richard was dancing with my wife when Tracey, his wife, took my hand and said that I should follow her. She led me into a small room containing some junk and a comfortable armchair. My last sight of Annabelle, before leaving the room, was of her hanging from Richard's neck, as they danced with their bodies welded together.
The following account is pieced together from Annabelle's later confession and long talks with Richard, after the event, plus what I saw and heard.
Apparently, my wife had not been aware that I'd left the room. She'd drunk quite a lot and things had become a bit hazy, and she felt completely relaxed. She'd gladly accepted Richard's offer to sit down, but had no idea how they'd ended up in his study. She'd sat her down on the leather chesterfield as he poured her another drink. She knew that she should stop drinking, but she was feeling very mellow and felt very relaxed with Richard because he was so handsome and such a gentleman. She felt safe with him even though they were alone and she was under the influence of alcohol.
I should reveal, at this stage, that alcohol makes Annabelle very horny.
Richard stared at my wife and apparently had hardly been able to contain his excitement at the thought of seducing her. I understand what he'd felt as I'd been there many times. He told me that he could hardly restrain his urge to get his hands on my wife's voluptuous body as he handed her a drink.
Although she is now twenty-six, she looks and acts much younger, like an innocent young girl. Her manner is prim and proper, contrasting strongly with her sexy body. It makes the thought of seducing her doubly exciting.
Annabelle, feeling more in control, suggested that they return to the party. She stood up and discovered immediately that she was dizzy from the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, and she stood swaying unsteadily, trying to regain control over her body. Richard, realizing that this was his chance, slid behind her and pressed his body against her back. There is no doubt that she must have felt his erect cock pulsating wildly against the smoothly rounded flesh of her buttocks, as his breath bathed her ear, but she made no effort to pull away.
When she related what had happened to me later, she couldn't decide whether she'd been too drunk or whether she had already unconsciously accepted that she was going to be seduced by Richard. Richard said that she seemed to be in a state of shock and did nothing to dissuade him from slipping an arm around her waist or moving his hands slowly over the pliant mounds of her breasts, which were rising and falling rapidly beneath the sheer blouse she wore that night. She wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts are so firm that she doesn't really need one, and he soon felt her large nipples hardening as he stroked them.
I know exactly what he experienced because I've felt those pulsing teats many times growing between my fingers. They double in size when they become fully erect.
The drinks she'd consumed, and the warmth of his body against her back, had made her feel increasingly light-headed. Her nerve-ends became ultra-sensitive, as they do whenever she has too much to drink, and were sending messages of exquisite pleasure through her swaying body as Richard's fingers slid over them. Not realizing that she was doing it, she leant back against the man who was seducing her.
He isn't sure if she was fully aware that he was unbuttoning her blouse, but if she was, she made no move to stop him. Her naked breasts tumbled out and he pawed them and tweaked the nipples until she was whimpering loudly with pleasure. Not wanting to give her time to gather her wits, he swiftly undid the zip on the side of the skirt, and it slithered down to the floor, leaving her naked save for a tiny pair of panties and high heels.
The small room, adjacent to the study, where I was sitting had once been a pantry, and there was a hatch between it and the study. Through the slightly opened hatch door, I could see and hear everything that was happening in the study. It felt really strange to watch my wife being undressed by another man while I did nothing to stop him and that it had been Richard's wife who led me there.
Richard's fingers slid up my wife's flat tummy and seized the resilient mounds of her naked breasts. I could hear him breathing harshly as he pinched and rolled her nipples expertly between his thumb and forefinger. Annabelle could not control the moans of pleasure, escaping her open mouth, as his expert caresses sent tingling shivers of sexual excitement through her loins. I could see that her entire body was compliant to Richard's caresses. Her acquiescence was filling my colleague with a tremendous sense of power, and he began whispering lewdly in her ear, as his fingers continued toying with the rock-hard buds of her nipples. The lewdness of his words, the heat of his body against her back, plus the hardness of his penis pressing into the cleft between her buttocks, was overcoming any lingering sense of propriety, and Annabelle could sense an almost liquid sensation surging through her lower belly and flooding her sex. I know that it was only her basic shyness and propriety which stopped her from sliding her hands down so that she could stroke the little bud of clitoral flesh which peeked out from its hiding place, begging to be scratched. If it had been me caressing her, she would have gripped her clit and tugged it out as far as it would stretch.
My wife gasped as Richard's middle finger found the tip of her throbbing clitoris and flicked it back and forth. Involuntarily, she pushed her pelvis forward, pressing her erect bud even harder against his teasing fingertip. The sensations she experienced were irresistible and overwhelming, and she reached a fever pitch level of arousal in express time. My wife was now helpless, and Richard, sensing her surrender, gently tugged her panties all the way down, then gently forced her legs apart so that his palm could cover her sex mound.
I couldn't see it, but he later told me that he squeezed her hair-fringed pussy lips together, relishing the heated wetness which was seeping out of her pulsing pussy and coating his fingers, while the other hand continued torturing her nipples.His long cock had been fully erect from the time they'd stepped into the study, and he quickly freed it and lodged it between the inner slopes of her naked buttocks. He almost bayed in triumph when he felt her tighten her buttocks unconsciously around his shaft, in response to the insertion. It was at that stage that he knew that she was his and that he could proceed at a faster pace.
He was grinning when he told me later how the sensation of power had made him feel dizzy, and he'd felt like howling like a wolf.
He continued licking and nibbling on my wife's earlobe as he moved his hips up and down so that his hard cock slipped lewdly along the warm, deep channel of her bum-cheeks.
Annabelle was shocked to feel his naked penis pressing against her anus, and she made a feeble attempt to pull away from him. However, her arousal was such that it overrode her inhibitions, and her body, instead of pulling away, twisted and writhed with desire, causing her inner buttocks to lewdly massage the hard cock. Every nerve in my wife's body was screaming out her need for him to take her and make her his bitch. Still, somewhere way back in the back of her mind, a small voice, resembling her mother's, called out for her to stop before it was too late and remember that she was married. That struggle, between her strict upbringing and her natural sensuousness, only served to heighten her own lust-crazed need for instant satisfaction. Her whole body was burning with desire. Her tingling flesh was screaming out for Richard's hard cock to penetrate her sex. Even though her emotions were in a turmoil, she could feel the hard rod pressing into the cleft of her bottom, the head very near her anus, and this excited her beyond reason. Instinctively, she spread her legs wider to give him easier access to her steaming pussy, and the cock gave an excited lurch as the head pressed against the rippling ring of her anus.
Richard growled with pleasure as his hands continued teasing her naked flesh. Annabelle's body trembled all over as three fingers slid easily along the slippery slit and up into her wet vagina. Immediately, her inner vaginal muscles tightened around them, not to resist, but to draw them deeper inside her until she could feel the tip brushing against her G-spot. My wife, driven mad by Richard's obscene whispering and lewd actions, suddenly sobbed out that she wanted him to fuck her.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was utterly shocked by her use of such obscene words because she'd never, never used them when we make love.
Liberated by her obscene confession, Annabelle twisted around to face Richard. Lacing her arms around his neck, she pressed her mouth against his and pushed her tongue deep into his mouth. Her hands started to undo buttons and pull zips as she twisted her pelvis against the thick hardness of his erect cock. She could feel it pulsing against her belly, while his hairy, dangling balls brushed against her inner thighs.
Richard pulled away, got rid of his clothes, and yanked off the rest of hers. They were now both stark naked. He grabbed his lust-thickened cock in one hand and began stroking the long length of the shaft. It was so thick that he could hardly get his fingers round it. Trembling with excitement, Annabelle watched him stroking his cock to its full size with wide eyes. I was sure that she was comparing it with mine, which is at least three inches shorter and thinner, at six inches. I could see that she was wondering whether she would be able to take anything that thick inside her.
I had the same doubts and couldn't wait to see whether it would fit.
Richard told her to get down on hands and knees. It startled me that he was being so dominant, but I was even more astounded when, trembling all over with excitement, my wife obeyed him immediately. I could hear him panting hoarsely as he knelt behind her, between her spread calves. With one hand holding the small of her back to steady her, he landed four swift smacks on her defenseless bottom, two on each cheek. Annabelle squealed and tried to move away, but he had her pinned down. He told her that it was a first installment for the punishment she'd earned for being unfaithful to me. I didn't know what he was on about, but she seemed to, and said that she did indeed deserve to be punished for being such a slut. While she was agreeing with him, his rubbery cockhead slipped between her naked buttocks and pressed against her small hole. For a brief moment, I thought that he was going to try to take her that way. The thought both frightened and excited me, as we'd once tried, but it had been too painful, and, after that, she'd never allowed me to do it that way, and his cock was so much bigger than mine. He pressed down on her shoulders so that her head ended resting on her folded arms, and her buttocks stuck out obscenely in the air. I could clearly see the imprints of his hand where he'd smacked her, and it was extremely exciting to see the redness against the pale background of her flesh.
Annabelle confessed later that she had found a depraved satisfaction at being made to assume such an obscene position, crouched like an animal waiting to have another man's thick cock shoved into the sex. She had been fully aware that, up to that point, her sex had only ever known my cock and that she was stepping into unknown territories.
Richard gave her another six smacks. Annabelle astounded me by shoving her bottom out, even further, as if to invite him to hit her even harder. Her sex was half open and dripping wet, and it was clear that she was massively turned on by the punishment. While he was punishing her, the head of his massive cock pressed against the swollen sex lips. Its huge size made the elastic sheath stretch to its outmost as inch by inch the hard flesh forced itself inside her vaginal passage. Annabelle grunted as she felt the massively thick cock filling her completely stretched sex sheath.
My wife was committing adultery only a few feet from where I was watching!
As the massive girth pushed inward, it made her feel as if it would split her in two, which was agonizing and arousing at the same time. Richard kept trying to shove more of his cock inside her sex to no avail. Almost half of the stem was still showing, yet her sex seemed completely full. I saw his right arm draw back before he smacked her so hard that she screamed. At the same time, he pushed more of his swollen cock into her cunt, forcing her legs wider apart. The shock of the sudden pain had made her sex loosen, allowing more of his enormous cock to slip deeper inside. Her moans rose almost to screams as he shoved the last of his massive cock inside her sex. I could see his large balls dangling and butting against her clitoris as his pubic hair rubbed against her anus. Words and sobs tumbled out of her open mouth as he crammed all of his huge cock into her pussy. She was drooling and looked like a woman having a fit as, for a brief instant, her entire body went rigid as her sex was stretched to tearing point by the massive cock.
Like a flash, Annabelle became transformed into a demented, lust-crazed animal before my eyes. Still kneeling on all fours, with her body trembling like a leaf, my wife lifted her naked buttocks as high as she could as she loudly begged Richard to punish and fuck her for being such a slut. The obscene words tumbled out of her open mouth, words which normally she would have never contemplated using, but she was beyond caring, beyond really knowing what she was saying. She was caught up in a sexual cyclone which was dragging her into a place where only physical pleasure mattered. Her only desire seemed to be used by Richard, and it didn't matter how debasing it could get.
Richard's response was to start smacking her buttocks, in rhythm with the plunges of his lust-thickened cock all the way into my wife's belly. He used his hands and cock with vicious power, and Annabelle responded by ramming her sex backwards to receive all he could give her. Her vaginal muscles hungrily grasped his very thick cock as her flesh absorbed his hard smacks. She moaned, her voice gritty and guttural with desperate need, and whimpered as each smack caused her flesh to ripple and redden.
I could see that Richard could hardly control his excitement as he heard my wife pleading for him to fuck and beat her. Hell, I could hardly control mine!
He stopped smacking her and, gripping her pliant buttocks tightly with his hands, he began fucking his thick, hard cock in and out of her fiercely milking cunt as hard as he could. He varied his rhythm, from hammer-like blows to very slow, tantalizing strokes which smoothly slid all the way to the back of her cunt and caused the head of his cock to butt against her cervix, again and again. His skilled screwing had her begging for mercy.
To make sure that she knew that he was in control, he withdrew the pulsating thickness of his cock from her grasping cunt, leaving only the plum head separating her sex lips, and waited for her to beg him to ram it back in. He didn't have to wait very long. My wife begged him to fuck her in the lewdest words. Accompanied by two resounding smacks, he rammed his cock back inside with such power that her whole body shuddered, and her breasts, which were dangling under her, swung so wildly that they slapped against her chin. Richard rotated his pelvis, which caused his cock to scrape every nerve-ending in her impaled cunt.
I could see that he was delighted to feel her matching her movements to his. He'd imposed his will, and now she was his sexual plaything. I realized that it would only be the limit of his imagination which would put a stop to her sexual enslavement.
Annabelle was constantly moaning incoherent obscenities. She was begging him to thrash her, then to split her in two with his cock. I could see that her verbal submission greatly enhanced his sexual excitement.I know that it enhanced mine and, in my head, I was urging him to take her all the way and show her that he was her master and she was his slave.
Time and time again, Richard drove Annabelle right to the brink of orgasm, then would change the rhythm, leaving her hanging and begging for release. Each time she begged, he smacked her buttocks, but it didn't stop her; in fact, it had the opposite reaction, and she pleaded with him to smack her even harder. Realizing that Annabelle was hugely excited by him verbalizing what they were doing, he made her respond in kind, as he paused with his cock fully wedged inside her clasping cunt but not moving.
I thoroughly enjoyed her whimpering, straining voice begging him to let her climax.
My wife stretched a slim hand beneath her body and gently cupped his testicles, which had been swaying and slapping against her inner thighs. He started to plunge his cock relentlessly in and out of her straining cunt as she pressed his balls against her tingling, erect clitoris. She was moaning helplessly. Her sex was fully skewered by Richard's pistoning hardness as he concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm. He continued thrusting his cock into her moistly contracting cunt while smacking the silky flesh of her wildly rotating arse with his right hand.
I could see that my ecstatic wife was in the grip of wave after wave of obscene delight, which flowed through her body, as Richard continued to ram his hard cock into her mercilessly. He was driving her into a state of mindless arousal. Swirls of pleasure were rising within her quivering cunt as she writhed involuntarily beneath his grinding hips. His long, thick cock reached the farthest depths of her skewered womb, and she responded with an animal-like whine.
I marveled at his staying power, knowing that I would never be able to keep screwing her that long without losing control and ejaculating. Time seemed to have been suspended.
Annabelle hovered in an erotic realm of her own rising orgasm. In her mind, she prayed that her Master would allow her to climax this time.
I heard John grunting as he leaned forward and whispered lascivious words in her ear, while his cock urged her onward to a new incredible height of depraved enjoyment. The obscene words thrilled her to the very core of her being. He was telling her that he was going to invite some of his friends to join them and that they would fuck her senseless. She eagerly screwed her bottom backwards to meet the pulsating thick length of the hard cock as it streaked all the way inside, stretching her vaginal walls open farther than she had ever thought possible. At times, she felt as if she was on the brink of losing her sanity from the delicious and torturous pleasure he was inducing with his huge male organ. Suddenly, he pulled his massive cock all the way out of her pussy, and she shrieked with disappointment. Holding the base of his glistening cock, he guided its tip against her anus. Before she had a chance to react, he flipped his hips, and his cock invaded the virgin hole. She screamed even louder as he started smacking her buttocks hard while, at the same time, ramming his entire cock inside her fundament. Paying no attention to her screams and pleas, he started to fuck her bottom as hard as he'd fucked her sex. Each mighty thrust was accompanied by a hard smack.
Suddenly, a massive wave of excitement rippled through my wife's kneeling body, like a white-hot flame, and overwhelmed her completely. She shook with uncontrollable passion as spasms after spasms whipped through her. Her face contorted in agony. Despite the pain, or was it because of it, at last, she'd reached the peak of her rapture with a massive cock rammed all the way inside her bottom!
She screamed as Richard drove his thick cock hard into her rectal passage, with even more powerful intensity. The brutally fucking man gripped Annabelle's flaring hips savagely as he rammed his cock into her spasming anus, without mercy, again and again. I could see that he loved the way the tight rectal passage undulated around his pistoning cock, and I also witnessed the moment when she became aware that sperm was being injected into her quaking bottom, because the in and out motions of his cock became much easier. In lewd response, her second orgasm was released high inside her pussy, and she felt as if her womb was being turned inside out. She shrieked, flailing her head wildly from side to side, and I'm sure that, for a brief moment, she almost lost consciousness as the most powerful orgasm she'd ever experienced overwhelmed her. Her eyes were shut as waves of exquisite pleasure blasted through her straining body. Her bare bottom ground against Richard's pelvis in a mindless search for even more pleasure. Her rectum contracted hard around the ejaculating cock, and she felt an almost unbearable pleasure sweeping through her entire body as he kept lunging his cock in and out of her spasming flesh, again and again.
Finally, the rapture started to subside, and she collapsed flat on the floor. Richard, still gripping her flaring hips tightly, came down with her, with his softening cock still deeply embedded within her convulsing anus. Her soft purrs of contentment mingled with his sighs of tired pleasure as his cock slowly withdrew from her anus, as it lost its hardness. He stood up and walked to face her. His hand grabbed her hair, using it to steer her face to his groin. Her mouth was open in agony, and she could do nothing to stop Richard driving his soiled cock between her lips. It took only a few seconds for her to surrender and use her mouth and tongue to clean his cock. When she'd finished, he let her go and, gathering his clothes, he left the room without another glance at her.
I quickly made my way to the study. My well-fucked wife was lying on her front, her head resting on her folded arms, her slim legs spread apart so that I could clearly see a trickle of Richard's sperm oozing out of her half-opened anus. From her cunt, a trickle of her love juice also oozed out, blending with the thicker liquid of Richard's semen, on the carpet. I closed the door behind me and went to her. She turned her head, looked at me, and started smiling as she saw that it was me. She sat up, and I sat next to her and wrapped my arms around her and told her how much I loved her. She and I hugged as we kissed tenderly.
She undid my trousers and gripped my erect cock with both hands, and manipulated it as I caressed the creamy white globes of her large breasts. I closed my thumbs and middle fingers around her nipples and pinched the elongated teats hard, causing her to whimper. It was the first time I'd ever been so cruel. I was aware of the very strong aroma of sex coming from between her legs. My right hand roamed through the tight curls of pussy hair, framing her damp cunt, till my fingers stirred up the love juice, which was still freely dribbling out from her gaping sex.
Annabelle pushed me till I rolled on my back. She sat astride my body and placed the head of my cock between the splayed lips of her gaping pussy. Very slowly, she slid her dripping cunt down my throbbing cock until she had taken every last inch of its length, down to the root, deep inside her soaking passage. I felt the liquid, dribbling from her anus, soak my balls. It felt weird, yet also very exciting to have one's balls bathed in another man's spunk. Her cunt muscles were contracting and expanding, gripping and releasing, in a wonderful rhythm as she bounced up and down my rigid cock at an ever-increasing rate. I was delighted by her uninhibited lovemaking. I clutched her flaring hips as she leaned forward so that the corona of my cock rubbed against her clitoris, each time it went in and out of her cunt. Suddenly, she went rigid, threw her head back, and shrieked with ecstasy. Her vaginal muscles clamped around my cock like a fist, and I knew that she was climaxing. I felt my shaft swelling with even more blood as I blasted my spunk inside her spasming cunt. My orgasm seemed to last a very long time. I realized that we were joined in the throes of the exquisite experience and pleasures of simultaneous orgasms. When it was all over, she dismounted and took my cock in her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue.
Since that day, Richard and some of his male friends have been regular visitors to our home, and I've had the exquisite delight to watch my wife being debased and fucked senseless. | 5 |
84,446 | Making Ends Meet part 1 | 'More bubbly, Colin?'
'Enough tonight.'
'Come on, the girls are ready.'
'Had enough for one night, you go on.'
'Thought you wanted to bonk the blonde.'
'Had enough for one night, you take the girls home.'
'But...'
'Look, don't worry about me. Here,' Colin pressed several twenties into his companion's hand, 'go.'
'You gonna be okay?'
'Sure, sure, just go.'
His erstwhile drinking companion left him then, intercepting the evening's 'dates' and ushering them out of the club without so much as a backward glance.
Colin was not as drunk as he seemed; it had mostly been a ruse to lose his self-appointed minder, Graham. Ever since his inheritance, Graham had barely let him out of his sight. Not that that was so bad - Graham had been a mate since primary school, the money was obviously a magnet, but he was pretty sure that Graham really thought that he was looking after Colin. Well, it got to grate sometimes, and tonight was definitely one of those times.
The unexpected windfall of three-quarters of a million pounds just eight months ago had really knocked him out. His benefactor, a distant cousin, had left the money, and he really couldn't fathom why. Still, it had all checked out, and here he was now, if he didn't go mad, set up for life. He left the club and took a taxi home - home, hmpf, mansion really, it was a 'crumbling' Victorian pile set in a couple of acres a mile or so out of town. Well, it wasn't crumbling now, and there was still work to do - the ultimate bachelor pad, all he really lacked was some regular female company. Never a great success with the girls, the money didn't help, so he made do with the good-time girls Graham kept finding.
He put on the stereo and settled down to the sounds of Yes' Topographic Ocean, one of his favourites. Then it hit him - he had money now, he could pursue some of his hitherto unaffordable fantasies, but start small, get a housekeeper. And if you have a housekeeper, why not a pretty young one? The idea hatched as Tormato hit track 2, and he started working on his ad copy to recruit his home help.
Wanted: live-in housekeeper,
Light duties,
All found + £5000 PA,
Suit student. Contact box 1245.
Sarah ringed it in blue as a 'couldn't hurt to apply', red was for 'must try' (2 bar jobs and a pizza delivery), green 'it will do in a pinch' (late shopper and singing telegram) and blue 'not much chance of getting' (this and evening librarian at the Uni.). The grant had come and gone, not that she had misspent, but just not budgeted very well. If she didn't get a job soon, she would be surviving on beans and pasta and walking everywhere. Although not a party animal, most of her money had gone on concerts, theatre and books, until the Christmas recess she was barely in her flat.
She sighed and started the now familiar 'I wish to apply for...' letters, the template was on her PC so she just needed to fill in the gaps appropriately. With an air of despondency, she stuck the stamps on and ambled down to the post box. | 4 |
84,579 | Making Ends Meet part 1 | 'More bubbly, Colin?'
'Enough tonight.'
'Come on, the girls are ready.'
'Had enough for one night, you go on.'
'Thought you wanted to bonk the blonde.'
'Had enough for one night, you take the girls home.'
'But...'
'Look, don't worry about me. Here,' Colin pressed several twenties into his companion's hand. 'Go.'
'You gonna be okay?'
'Sure, sure, just go.'
His erstwhile drinking companion left him then, intercepting the evening's 'dates' and ushering them out of the club without so much as a backward glance.
Colin was not as drunk as he seemed; it had mostly been a ruse to lose his self-appointed minder, Graham. Ever since his inheritance, Graham had barely let him out of his sight. Not that that was so bad - Graham had been a mate since primary school, the money was obviously a magnet, but he was pretty sure that Graham really thought that he was looking after Colin. Well, it got to grate sometimes, and tonight was definitely one of those times.
The unexpected windfall of three-quarters of a million pounds just eight months ago had really knocked him out. His benefactor, a distant cousin, had left the money, and he really couldn't fathom why. Still, it had all checked out, and here he was now, if he didn't go mad, set up for life. He left the club and took a taxi home - home, hmpf, mansion really, it was a 'crumbling' Victorian pile set in a couple of acres a mile or so out of town. Well, it wasn't crumbling now, and there was still work to do - the ultimate bachelor pad, all he really lacked was some regular female company. Never a great success with the girls, the money didn't help, so he made do with the good-time girls Graham kept finding.
He put on the stereo and settled down to the sounds of Yes' Topographic Ocean, one of his favourites. Then it hit him - he had money now, he could pursue some of his hitherto unaffordable fantasies, but start small, get a housekeeper. And if you have a housekeeper, why not a pretty young one? The idea hatched as Tormato hit track 2, and he started working on his ad copy to recruit his home help.
Wanted: live-in housekeeper,
Light duties,
All found + £5000 PA,
Suit student. Contact box 1245.
Sarah ringed it in blue as a 'couldn't hurt to apply', red was for 'must try' (2 bar jobs and a pizza delivery), green 'it will do in a pinch' (late shopper and singing telegram) and blue 'not much chance of getting' (this and evening librarian at the Uni.). The grant had come and gone, not that she had misspent, but just not budgeted very well. If she didn't get a job soon, she would be surviving on beans and pasta and walking everywhere. Although not a party animal, most of her money had gone on concerts, theatre and books, until the Christmas recess she was barely in her flat.
She sighed and started the now familiar 'I wish to apply for...' letters, the template was on her PC so she just needed to fill in the gaps appropriately. With an air of despondency, she stuck the stamps on and ambled down to the post box. | 4 |
86,313 | To a sister | 'To a sister' is an innocuous poem penned by the finest and most famous of English Romantic poets, William Wordsworth, and yet it is found in very few of the volumes of his 'complete' works published both during his life and for a century after his death because, one would assume, of the precious sensibilities of the Victorians and their immediate successors to the idea of incest.
William Wordsworth was born in 1770, and his sister Dorothy the following year. His early works of poetry earned him little attention and less money, but in 1795 he received a small bequest which enabled him to live an independent life first in Dorset, then Somerset, and eventually in the famous 'Dove Cottage' at Grasmere in the English Lake District. Each move was in pursuit of the dream of the idyllic rustic existence so fervently sought by the Romantic movement of the time. At all times, his devoted sister Dorothy accompanied him and lived with him.
This arrangement seems to have caused some degree of gossip, and Thomas de Quincey, who lived with the Wordsworths for a time in Dove Cottage, hints much later at an incestuous relationship between them. That there was no more substantial scandal at the time is likely to have been for a number of reasons.
First and foremost, their living arrangements were by no means unique. In the social milieu of the day, a woman had only two career paths: prostitution or marriage. A woman who wished to pursue neither was forced to rely upon her family for support, and thus many brothers had to take responsibility for unmarried or 'non-working' sisters. Sisters frequently functioned as housekeepers in the households of their brothers, but perhaps the Wordsworths were slightly unusual in that there is no evidence that Dorothy regarded herself as being in any way 'in service' to her brother. Although she ran the house, from all accounts theirs was a relationship of equality, which, for the times, was a very modern arrangement. Moreover, in households where the sister acted as 'housekeeper,' the household was usually run by the brother's wife. In the case of the Wordsworths, William did not marry until 1802.
With the French Revolution in full swing, the world of the 1790s was in turmoil, and everything was 'up for grabs.' In England, it was a time of licentious immorality, of rakes and libertines. The Revolutionaries in France, initially admired by William, had rejected religion and sought a purely secular, rational morality. William himself, of course, and Dorothy too were at the forefront of the Romantic movement, which, if it rejected the anarchic amorality of the libertines and the purely 'rational' morality proposed by the French revolutionaries, also rejected all moralities 'imposed' by State or Church and instead looked for and lived by an inherent 'morality' of nature, which they believed could be accessed by the individual surrendering to and directly experiencing the divine as expressed in nature.
One consequence of this view was that as long as it was kept discrete and caused no harm, a person, or couple, could do whatever they wanted. Morality was seen as a personal matter, which no-one else had any right to comment upon. By choice, the Wordsworths lived isolated, secluded lives with a small circle of like-minded friends, which included Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a circle which even had it known of an incestuous relationship between them would have regarded it as purely a matter for them and no-one else's business. Even someone such as de Quincy who did become aware of it was clearly unperturbed by it and only mentions it in passing much later.
Nor should it be forgotten that in this circle, sex was seen as wholly 'natural' and inevitable, while in society as a whole, incest itself was no great matter. A father still 'owned' his daughter as property until he 'gave her away' in marriage, and as property rights were absolute, what he did with her was up to him. However, getting her pregnant made it harder to find a husband, and amongst the middle and upper classes may even have reduced her value in dowry, so there was much literature available concerning contraception and, as a last resort, termination, much of which would make a modern physician's hair stand on end. In most households, all the children of the family - and often the parents too - would likely have shared the same bedroom and even the same bed until the day they left home to get married, and brother-sister incest seems only to have been regarded as a major 'sin' when it could be added as an afterthought to a longer list of far more 'serious' mischiefs, as in the case of Lord Byron.
Lastly, and sadly, it must be noted that it seems Dorothy Wordsworth herself, although blessed with a fine mind and, as her Journals reveal, considerable literary talent in her own right, was not a physically attractive woman, which may be why she not only never married but never seems even to have contemplated it. Any man living alone with a beautiful sister is bound to raise envy and a degree of curiosity in other men as to whether he sleeps with her, but where the sister is not one likely in herself to raise lustful desires, it is perhaps more understandable that men should assume the brother responds the same way!
The purpose of this introduction is to set the background for a series of previously unknown letters purporting to be (and I believe genuinely are) from Dorothy Wordsworth to a friend, identified only as 'Emma,' which throw considerable light on this previously speculative side to the relationship between William Wordsworth and his almost equally famous sister.
'Emma' was Emmeline Jane Gidding of Summerley Farm in Forncett St. Peter, Norfolk. In 1788, Dorothy's uncle and guardian, the Revd. William Cookson (b.1754), who had at one time been tutor to the sons of King George III but whose anti-slavery views would have earned him some enmity among the establishment, was granted the living at Forncett St. Peter, where he went with his new wife and his niece. Dorothy was then 17, and Emma was 14, so a friendship between them was very likely.
In the circumstances, it was perhaps very remiss of Emma not to have destroyed these letters, which are extremely compromising of William and Dorothy, especially as Dorothy clearly reposed a great deal of trust in Emma by sending them in the first place. However, anyone reading Dorothy's journals can easily comprehend the character of the woman who would expose herself so thoroughly and unstintingly to someone who was clearly a good and close but deeply troubled friend. To my mind, too, I have to say that I think that Dorothy at least (I would not speak for William) would not have been greatly perturbed had her relationship with her brother become public knowledge, as she was clearly very strong-willed with a distinct attitude of 'take me as I am or not at all!'
For whatever reason, Emma did not destroy the correspondence. She did, however, secure them in such a way that they did not come to public attention for two centuries, and for the light they shed upon the lives and personalities of William and Dorothy, I for one am glad she did.
Although they bear no anagram, I believe the letters can safely be attributed to 1797-98, and as they thus pre-date the Alfoxden Journals, they will be of intense interest to admirers of Dorothy's work. In this, they will not be disappointed. However, apart from some particularly notable observations of a "Romantic' kind, the following extracts have been edited to concentrate upon what they reveal of Dorothy's thoughts about sex, sexuality, and incest, and of course Dorothy herself.
Alfoxden House, Kilve, Somerset. August 3rd
My dear Emma, your letter to me at Racedown [Racedown Lodge, Dorset, where the Wordsworths made their first home together from Sept. 1795 until July 1797] has only just caught up with me here, where W. [William] has moved us to be near our new friend Samuel Coleridge, who lives just three miles away at Nether Stowey. C. [Coleridge] has published some poetry already, and he and W. strike sparks of inspiration off each other like a horse-shoes on a flint road. It is wonderful to watch.
[Description of Alfoxden and much of interest on Coleridge.]
By all means do feel free to write me with complete liberty, and in the perfect knowledge that I shall certainly hold close to my heart any confidences which you feel able to entrust to me. Do not either hold any concern that I do not speak for my brother also.
Your friend, Dorothy Wordsworth.
Alfoxden House, September 20th.
Dearest Emma. Your letter makes me a little homesick for the wide Norfolk skies. Those majestic cauliflower clouds boiling up from the west above the Elms of the Summerley Meadows and the light of the setting sun spearing out of the gaps between them. The light seems somehow harder here in Somerset when it was so soft in Norfolk. It cannot be just that we are further south, although those who have travelled there say the light is harder still in Italy and Spain, for we are not all that much further. Perhaps it is that the land here is harder, for there are even outcroppings of rock (some of them as circles made by man long ago), and the hills are far more bony than anything in Norfolk. Perhaps it is just that the sea is so much closer. [Alfoxten House is practically on the beach of the Bristol Channel. Forncett St. Peter is 25 miles from the North Sea.]
[A quite lovely portrait of the Quantock Hills.]
I am saddened by the rift between your father and L [Emma's second eldest brother Lionel].You do not enlarge upon the matter at the root of this rift, which must for certain be substantial if it has driven L from his home and prospects, yet I can tell it troubles you deeply. I doubt there is anything I can do to help heal it, for although I have fond memories of L, your father, as I recall, is a man much of his own mind, and I suspect he will have little memory, and even less regard, for me. Yet still I sense a quiet cry for help among your words, and, woman to woman, stand ready to open my heart if in any way that might be of assistance to you. Yet in return yours must be more open to me. Let us be as sisters might, and I the elder. [Dorothy would be 26 on Christmas Day, 1797. Emmeline turned 23 on June 1st that year.]
Your loving sister Dorothy.
Alfoxden House, October 21st.
Oh, my dear Emma. No, I am not shocked, and were you here in place of this paper, I would hold you close to my heart with all the firmness of the sisterly loyalty and love that resides there for you.
As women, we must make allowances for men, as the poplar bends to the gale. Our task is to bear children; their task is to create them. Thus, ours is passive, to be the tree which bears the fruit, but nature makes man the bee, driving him from dawn to dusk from flower to flower, ever seeking the sweet nectar that lies within. Thus, nature rides men as the postillion his horse, forcing them if necessary with whip and spur to the destination of bringing into being the next generation. If they were to fail at that, there would be no next generation, and so nature drives hard and cruelly.
Marriage is a man-made thing, and nature takes no account of it. It did not cease riding your father hard on the death of your mother, and, like the desperate rider, uses whip and spur even more cruelly when thwarted. Widowed, your father's choice to escape the savage demands of nature, which can drive a man to despair or bitter rage, was to take you to his bed or some uncaring whore, nothing to you and to who you were nothing, and likely unclean to boot. You accepted your womanly duty. It can be hard and painful, but so is childbirth, and women have ever accepted that as their lot.
When we are children, our fathers seem as gods and kings to us, for so do they have utter control over our lives and our destinies. Discovering they are merely men, as powerless in the face of their nature as is all else, is one of the pains of growing up for us all. For sure, a man is at his most natural when in the transports of sexual congress, and by experiencing him thus in his bed, that transition of your father from god to man was both greatest and most abrupt, and thus most painful to you, especially in one so young. [Jane Gidding is buried in the churchyard at Forncett St. Peter. Her gravestone records her date of death as 17th September 1787, when her daughter Emmeline would have been just 13.] Duty can be hard, but performed can give us satisfaction, and performed well can give us pride. It is the sternness with which we perform duties even when our inclination lies elsewhere - as might be the soldier standing firm under fire on the battlefield when his sense of self-preservation urges him to run to safety - which marks the hero from the coward amongst men, and while of course it goes unrecognised and unrewarded amongst us of the weaker sex, your performance of your womanly duties in your father's bed for those years should surely fill you with the pride of the hero rather than the shame I sense from your words that you feel.
Yet I believe there is more, for you have not yet uncovered to me the cause of the rift between L. and your father, which I sense lies closer to the heart of this. I am, too, distressed to learn that your father's use of your body continues after his marriage [John Gidding married Sarah Alice Flatman at Forncett St. Peter's on 20th March 1793] for with a wife to satisfy his reproductive urges, he should in all conscience no longer have need of recourse to his daughter. It is, of course, long after time he should have found a husband for you, and while he might perhaps be excused for seeking to retain your services to perform the wifely duties of the household before his remarriage, to continue to do so afterwards when you are free to marry in your own right, argues a great selfishness. If you wish me to write my uncle, not of course with the full story but merely a casual expression of surprise to learn that you are still not away and married, I shall of course be quite happy to. I'm sure a gentle expression of concern as to your position from my uncle would help remind your father of his obligations to you. However, I shall not do so without your consent.
Consider me ever your sister Dorothy.
Alfoxden, January 3rd.
My dearest Emma, I hope my delay in replying to your letter has not distressed you, but I have been away in London for some time with W and C in hope of obtaining a sponsor for W's new play 'The Borderers', - which alas was not to be on this occasion - with Christmas in Bristol. Thus, your letter has only just come to my hand.
[A brief and disappointingly superficial description of the London visit.]
No, my dear sister, I do not think my comments, and compliments, to you regarding the pride I believe you should feel in the service given to your father in his bed in those years following your mother's death are in any way invalidated by the confession that you enjoyed it. I do concede that my words were intended to console you for something endured rather than eagerly seized upon, but while a duty enjoyed is undoubtedly less onerous than one undertaken reluctantly, I say this should be taken as merely good fortune, which in no way invalidates the underlying worth of its steadfast performance.
Yet I sense in your words a suggestion that you should not have enjoyed sexual congress with your father - that the fact it was your father's flesh within you should not have woken in you the feelings and sensations it clearly did. Do you then feel that you should have lain beneath him passively, unfeeling? Do you say that had you felt nothing but the simple motion of his manhood within you just as you might, say, experience a movement of your bowels, the act itself would be in some way different, and less 'guilt' accrue to you therefore?
Nay, Emma. This is foolishness. Your body responded in all particulars as a woman's should when preparing itself to receive a man's seed. Your mind, of course, knew the flesh within you and the seed it was depositing there was your father's, but your body did not and could not, for the flesh has no way of recognising such things. Do not, I beg you, feel shame in the blind and natural responses of your body - particularly when it is experiencing the act of sex, which is most central and fundamental to its very existence. This is the path of those who despise the body and reject it, who punish it with scourge and hardship for being no more that what it is, which is the temporary and frail physical shell housing our immortal spirit. In seeking out, yearning for and encouraging your father, your body was merely pursuing the dictates of its nature. With a husband, those desires would be unquestioned, and the rewards of delight eagerly consumed. Circumstances meant it was your father instead, yet where would the purpose be in denying yourself those rewards of delight merely because of those circumstances which were in any case without your control? No. The only immoral joy is that which is obtained at the expense or pain of another. Do not make the delight you experienced in your father's bed an immoral joy because you think that for some reason you should not have experienced it, for you had no choice in the matter. Instead, drink it to the full, for that is what nature intended.
I am glad you have at last been full and open with regard to your brothers, for now I believe I can fully comprehend the matter. Also, I believe I understand why you address me of all people about it. Do not, I pray, be concerned that I am offended by the implication that I have a particular experience in this regard, for I freely admit to you that you are correct in your suspicions. I do have such experience. Neither am I concerned that you should even have cause for such suspicions. A woman who chooses to live openly with no-one but her brother invites such suspicions as a matter of course, and I think no worse of you for thinking thus.
W and I are fully aware that the locals glance askance at us and wonder if we share a bed. Why should this concern us? Such a thing offends only canon law, and the Church has no jurisdiction over us. Although all know we are brother and sister, for we will not cower under the fraud of a pretend marriage, W and I could join in sexual intercourse in the middle of Bridgwater on market day, and the magistrates would be able to impose no greater penalty upon us than had we been husband and wife committing the same act in public - although I have no doubt the prescribed penalty would be applied to the full in recognition of the extra 'horror' I have no doubt they would claim to have experienced at our 'Breach of the Peace'. [Incest per se did not become a crime under English law until 1908].
Let me then place all that experience at your disposal, in order that it might do what it can to help you resolve your troubles - not only those you have expressed but those I read behind your words. In doing so, I must be fully open and speak to you as woman to woman as well as sister to sister, and while I would unhesitatingly engage in sexual intercourse with W. in Bridgwater Market in full view of the locals without shame were William to ask it of me, I am confident he would never wish to expose me thus and indeed would be distressed if what he is well aware is suspected were to become conclusively known.Thus for W's sake I would ask you to be most discreet with this paper as I can assure you I have been with yours.
Like you, I have four brothers. Of them, W. is the only one I have known sexually, apart from children's play. Yet should any of the other three desire me, I would not refuse him. That this has not occurred is largely circumstance. We spent our childhoods and formative years apart, so the opportunity was never there. [When their mother died in 1778, Dorothy was sent to an Aunt in Halifax. On their father's death in 1783, the boys, too, were farmed out to relatives.] W. and I have never openly admitted our relationship to them, but neither have we acted in any way to counter the rumors, so I have no doubt they assume it. They are now engaged upon their own lives with their own affairs, and we see little of them. I have, however, no reason to believe they recoil from or disapprove of us, and their letters to us both are always friendly and warm.
Thus, I doubt any of the three have any need of me sexually, yet were they to wish to have intercourse with me for any reason that might seem good to them, or indeed just for the pure pleasure of the act, I would most willingly make myself available. W. and I have discussed the possibility, and he agrees that it would be wrong of me to deny to one brother what I freely give another - without at least good reason, and one good enough has yet to occur to me.
Your circumstances, of course, were different, with your brothers beneath the same roof, yet I believe you acted rightly in denying none of them your body. It is quite natural that you should prefer one above the others, and even in an order of four. Although it might be an ideal, your brothers each have their own personalities and character quirks, and no mere human can be expected to love four quite different people in exactly the same measure. The consequences to your family had you granted your body to one or some of your brothers but not all could have been terrible, for envy and jealousy are powerful forces for evil even, or perhaps especially, amongst kindred. To have allowed S. [Stephen] and J. [John] to know you merely in order to maintain harmony amongst your brothers was an act of true charity for which I am sure you reaped immediate rewards from their peaceful co-existence.
Yet to your cruel dilemma. I have already stated that I believe your father wrong not only to continuing to use you as a wife now that he has a true one, but instead to stand in the way of your advancement to a marriage which I am sure would not be long in occurring, for I know full well that you caught W's eye during his visits here and he was much attracted to you. [Only one such visit by William is recorded elsewhere, early in 1791 when he was on his way to France, full of enthusiasm for the Revolution still, at that time, in its heady, idealistic days. The horrors of the guillotine and the 'Reign of Terror', which William repudiated, were still to come. Previously, however, William was a student at Cambridge, and although Forncett St. Peter is 50 miles from Cambridge, it stands only a few miles off the Cambridge - Norwich main road, and so was likely within a day's travel by stage-coach. His uncle would have been his 'closest living' relative, and visits there surely quite frequent. One wonders now if Dorothy's choice to accompany her uncle there in 1788 following William's moving to Cambridge the previous year was the pure coincidence it has always seemed!] Your attachment to H. [Henry] is of course quite natural, for he is your eldest brother and I certainly remember him as a strong and handsome man who would make for any woman a fine husband. Yet there lies your problem. The farm is his inheritance and his life, and it is his duty to pass it on to a further generation, for which he will need an acknowledged son. Such a son he cannot have with you, for such a thing could never be kept hidden from the parish. You must free him to marry some good woman in the usual way and so keep the respect he will need when he finally comes into his inheritance and his place in the community.
That your father's response upon discovering you with L. was so cruel and violent is telling to me. To be truthful, I am impressed and surprised that you managed to keep the secret of your relations with your brothers for so long, for I had would have assumed your father was fully aware of it but felt unable to 'cast the first stone', as it were. That despite having a wife of his own, your father still feels unable even to share you, even with his sons, suggests to me that he is not be at all willing to give you up, and this does not bode well for your future prospects.
Yes, it is open to you to stay, second wife to your father and secret lover to your brothers until such time as they all, all but H that is, have left for homes of their own. Stay to become an old maid, for even after your father's death and the farm passes to H, he will not be unable to acknowledge you openly. You do not say if your step-mother knows or suspects anything of your father's use of you, yet I am sure he does not bed you openly. Such too would have to be the case also once H. has married, and I do not think you could find that tolerable. Even without knowledge of the truth, I am sure H's wife would have suspicions of you which would make for an unhappy household, while if she were to catch you and H in the position in which your father caught you and L. and it became the gossip of the parish, you would surely find life intolerable.
No, dear Emma. Though H might have your heart as, in truth, W has mine, I do not see how any future there can lie. You have a choice of two courses, as it seems to me.
The first is to become your own woman, free of both father and brothers. I know my uncle well enough to be able to say with confidence that were I to hint at what I know of your father's use of you, he would hold you nothing but a dutiful daughter, free of blame, and would work discreetly and diligently to ensure your father did right by you. The other is to accept L's offer and become to all the world his wife. His proposed move to India certainly offers a good prospect of such a harmless deception having every success.
If you choose the first course, I urge you most strongly never, never to tell the man to whom you eventually cleave of your relationship with your father and brothers. All men look for the woman they choose to commit themselves to, to be both virgin and whore - virgin to all men other and whore for them. If he truly loves you, he might forgive you not being virgin when you meet if you can spin some tale of true love betrayed or thwarted. Perhaps if he is a Percival indeed (and these are rare as unicorns!) he might believe he can accept your father's use of you if he believes it was forced upon your unwilling flesh, yet even then it will be a thorn festering in the back of his mind and freshly irritated each time he places himself where he knows your father has been before. To know that you have been so used by all your brothers also would, I fear, be more than any man could bear. Perhaps for five years, perhaps for ten while love and lust still cloak you in the virgin-martyr's clothes, but for a lifetime? Never. Thus would he in time abandon you for a younger, fresher and 'unstained' mate, and you will ever live in dreadful anticipation of the event. Thus does this course demand a lifetime of deception, and the constant fear of some trivial event or unguarded word leading to its unmasking.
Yet I have to say, dear Emma, that to live together as W and I do, openly as brother and sister, is a bold and brazen thing to do and not without its difficulties. First and foremost, of course, is the matter of children. W. and I decided from the first that we wished no children of our union, but making this so is a continual and heavy responsibility upon me. Were we to choose to pass ourselves off as a married couple, and I have no doubt even my uncle would be willing to co-operate in that deception were I to ask it of him, the chance swelling of my belly with W's child despite all my precautions would arouse no scandal compared with the vitriol wagging tongues would spray were it to so swell as we are.
More, we can live as we do because we are beholden to no man. Were W. to seek respectable employment, the rumors which swirl around us would inevitably blacken his prospects even were there no truth in them. You must ask yourself if L. is in such a fortunate position.
Certainly, if you are content or even desire to have children by L, a pretend, and even an actual blacksmith's, marriage is essential for your and those children's respect in society. You do not touch on this aspect of L's offer in your letter, yet I would say to you do not take too much notice of the tales of old women about the offspring of sibling pairings. I will not deny there is a risk, yet there is a risk in any childbirth, and as, especially in the early months of my life with W, I had to consider the chance of a child occurring despite my care, I did pay much attention to what I heard and even consulted several respected sources.
In short, Emma, you and L, as well as what I know of your family, display no congenital defects, and even when they do exist within a family, they seem to have a tendency only to come to the fore in babes after two or three generations of close-kindred coupling. So for my part, I would say that while you should not close your eyes to the risk, there is every possibility that you and your brother in India could have for yourselves a perfectly normal family of healthy children who, with only a little care and necessary deception on your part, need never know anything of their irregular ancestry.
W. and I are aided in our brazening by the fact that, as I know you will agree, W.He is a handsome young man with a quick, alert, and entertaining mind, while I, I freely admit, am not one to set a man's pulse racing. Men do not respond to meeting me and learning I am unmarried by embarking upon my seduction, and, in truth, I am long past the age of minding that. I am sure many, upon hearing of our living arrangements, wonder immediately how many beds we use, but later, upon meeting us or upon perhaps thrilling with the chance to breathe those suspicions into the ear of any who have seen us, take the view or are told that I am poor W's burden, the sister no man will have and whom he is obliged to provide a home for, perhaps even to the detriment of his own marriage prospects. That this calumny misses the mark by a mile is even a source of amusement to me. You, on the other hand, are beautiful, and were you to live with your brother as a sister, it would inevitably raise in the minds of many who see you a huge speculation as to how your brother could refrain from at least seeking your bed, even if you denied it to him.
Dear Emma, I am conscious of the length this letter is acquiring and hope the size of the resulting packet will not make it awkward for your friend, in whom I trust your confidence well reposes, to smuggle to your hand. Yet I wish to expand a little on the nature of the relationship I do have with W, for it, I must concede, is markedly different from any relationship you could have with L., based, as I am sure it would be, on a genuine fondness for each other and honest physical attraction (may I say healthy lust?) such as forms the foundation of every happy marriage.
Fondness, of course, there is between us, as there should be between brother and sister. Yet I must admit I do not seem to respond to the physical attractiveness (or otherwise!) of a man as other women do - perhaps because I know any such response on my part would be futile - and William I know is not physically attracted to me. Nor, as I know some would suggest, do we gain some perverted pleasure from the sex act merely because we are brother and sister, and are therefore engaging in what some would have as conscious 'wickedness' if not downright devilry. What, then, is the basis of our coupling?
W. is an exceptional and brilliant man. I believe he will one day (one day soon, I hope) stand proudly in the public eye and intellectual respect alongside Shakespeare and Milton. C., who has already been published to some acclaim ['Poems on Various Subjects', 1796], stands in awe of W and looks on him as an elder brother. [Dorothy was ten months older than Coleridge.] W is a true visionary and philosopher with a poet's mind and an eye that sees more and further than any man's. Yet he is also a man, and a young and lusty one at that, and so is hard driven by that same nature that drove your father to take you into his bed. When W. is not at his desk scribbling the words I later try to order, he is striding over the hills seeking the inspiration of his muse. What wife would be willing to work as I do to relieve him of the mundane distractions of life and look for no affection in return? How could the children she would seek, and rightly expect, from him fit within that life? Yet without a wife (or mistress, with her own demands) where else but with the nearest two hours' travel from our sanctuary, very likely unclean and at a penny a poke we can hardly afford, does a man relieve himself? How much better for a sister to do those things. A sister with no desire for a husband and children of her own but who is content to devote herself to her brother in all things.
Yes, in all things - even matters of the flesh and the bed. The stirrings of his loins are a distraction to W., drawing his mind from its lofty contemplations to their base demands. Within me, he silences those stirrings. Oh, do not think us passionless, each a physician treating the other as patient with the cold aloofness of the stone-walled ward. W's manhood within me wakes a woman's thrills such that I at times cry out and at others swoon, and I betimes crush him to my breasts as fiercely as any wife her husband, while W strives mightily to use my soft woman's flesh to fire his hard maleness into those ecstasies of release I cannot begin to imagine, yet can see and feel all too well in his body as his seed floods into me. Thus do I tame the rider that would ride him so wildly, and free him from the harness nature would buckle about him, while gaining in full measure for myself the sweet delights of the flesh many think me sour for want of.
Nor just in the bedroom. We walk far together, at times on the nearby beach and at others far into the wild hills. I'm sure you will recognize, dear Emma, that wonderful moment when, our ecstasy spent and nature's demands fulfilled, our bodies can be at peace for a short time and our minds seek the truth of themselves, freed from the tyranny of the body. That moment is the most precious of all to W, for in it he is open to some sublime sense of that presence which interfuses all things - the setting sun, the restless sea, and all that great arch of air that spans the earth beneath the sky and also haunts our minds. [Need I highlight these lines? Did Dorothy inspire William or is this Dorothy inspired by some draft scribbling by William which later found its perfect expression in 'Tintern Abbey'? I fear we shall never know.] How oft within some woody glade, beside the moon-gilded surf or beneath a windswept rocky cairn have I felt W's hand fiercely seize my arm, and I know it is time for me to lift my skirts and petticoats, lay myself on the ground and open myself to him so that he with no preamble may penetrate and within me silence the distracting clamour of his seed as it demands release. And how often have I looked up at him afterwards, sometimes still kneeling between my spread legs with his limp manhood signifying that satiation of his body, and his face looking about him with a glow of dizzy rapture, radiant with the glow of elevated thoughts which I can only wonder at. Yet that look on my brother's face is my own abundant recompense for the damp and angular discomfort of the ground beneath my back, the ants and grass-seeds in my hair, the moist coldness of the free air upon my privates, and the slippery creep of the stuff within me which, alas, must perforce slime down the insides of my legs beneath my petticoats as we walk on despite all I can ever do to plug it in its receptacle.
(I sense your alarm, dear Emma, and in truth it alarms me too. Though most often it occurs when we walk in moonlit nights or far from habitation, as though solitude were some essential ingredient in the stew, the risk we will be seen and local speculation confirmed cannot be ignored. Yet it speaks much for the intense need of W. to experience such moments that he is prepared to take that risk despite what I know he fears would be the damage to my reputation - about which I care not a jot - while I console myself with the thought that we have but a short lease on Alfoxted House and, because of our 'furrin'' accents (for such is the lilt of the northern counties heard here in the south), our godless ways (we do not go to church a'Sunday as most here do, tho' with such a headache from overconsumption of the local potent cider that they must barely hear a word of the sermon, and the hymns be as hammers on their skullbones!) and our highly suspect visitors such as John Thelwall [a radical orator central to the movement for parliamentary reform] - I'm sure his name must be tutt-tutted over even in sleepy Norfolk - we are already considered far beyond the pale of civilised company (even for Somerset!))
These precious moments of bliss which follow our copulation are W's opium, and yes, he is addicted to them. Thus, he will often use me two or three times a day, and such has been his anguish at even a short-term withdrawal that I have perforce on occasions had to consent to his taking me even in my menses - a messy business if ever there was, like drawing a rabbit! C. [Coleridge] is well aware of our coupling and it troubles him not, but I will admit to having been annoyed with W. for offering C. the use of me as an alternative to the poppy with which he is experimenting in the quest for that perfect bliss. Between us, dear sister, I will admit that I had no objection - C. is a bluff yet basically kind and honest man, and his marriage was over almost before it had begun - but I was privately infuriated with W. for not having had the common courtesy to have consulted me first!
(A confession - Though a delightfully awkward gallant, C. is not in the least attracted to me as man to woman, but in a darkened room can pretend I am as beautiful as Helen herself. And another - you ask in your letter if it was not the mark of a wanton to sometimes arrange for three and even all four of your brothers to take you at the same time. If by "the same time" you mean simultaneously, I beg you, dear sister, tell me how, for I can conceive (an ill word for the circumstances!) of a way to take three men simultaneously, but can think of no easy way to take four! If you mean but in one session, well yes, I say that is wanton. But I will also say that to my mind it is a million times more healthy and enjoyable to be wanton than to have the prim and tightly-laced mind of those rod-backed ladies who populate the pews of every church each Sunday morning. For my part, when I read your letter and having only ever had one man, my W, at a time, I felt a distinct envy, and thrill of curiosity, at the picture you painted. Wholly in consequence thereof I encouraged W and C both to enjoy my favours "at the same time" during the London expedition - as I say, they have taken to each other like long-lost brothers and seemed to have no difficulty whatever in sharing their sister!)Whether I shall ever have the opportunity to earn the full and unqualified title remains to be seen. Alas, I cannot see how, but should the opportunity ever arise, be assured I shall seize it with both hands - or however it is done! I trust I have, in something of a roundabout way, answered your question. To have been able to rise regally from the bed, leaving two handsome, lusty young men lying exhausted and worn-out upon it, was a sweet victory for the female, and to do so from a positive battlefield strewn with defeated combatants would surely justify a veritable Trajan's Column - ha! A suitable image, methinks.
Now, as my pen-nib has to plough its furrow on the headland of this sheet, I must draw to a hasty close in the hope my words have been of some assistance to you in your dilemma, dear sister. Yet my team of heart and hand stand ready to plough another ten-acres if the harvest thereof will avail you any. Dorothy.
Alfoxden, February 3rd.
Dear Emma, Yes, of course. If I can assist you in your flight, you have here a sanctuary. We are but 30 miles from Bristol, and East Indiamen are a frequent sight on our horizon, their white wings spread for those far and exotic lands of silk, spice and elephant. If L desires to wait for you here, or you him, you will be welcome. Yet do not long delay, for already W and C are planning some adventure for the summer, and it is unlikely we will be here long beyond your birthday.
I can understand London is more convenient for your flight, and I would not have you risk anything just to visit an old friend, or even a dear sister, across the breadth of England. If force of circumstances blow you here, our door is open to you, and closed to any who would interfere, but if the gale is fair from London, dear sister, seize it.
You say you will be at your father's house until Easter, and against that fair London gale I will pen this letter to you as it will likely be the last, for by the time you reach the Indies, even with a fair gale, we shall be gone from here. I will pass such addresses as we have from time to time to G.H. [?. Presumably the go-between through whose hands this correspondence passed.] and should you have occasion to write to her with your eventual address, we might resume our sisterhood. Yet perhaps it would be better still for you to look upon England as it sinks beyond the rail of your ship as Atlantis indeed, sunken in truth beneath the waves with all its baggage, and then turn to face the rising sun into which you sail as a new day with a new life in its train, unencumbered by any history.
Your intelligence regarding my uncle's attempt upon you does not surprise me. I did once overhear a conversation between my namesake DC [presumably Dorothy Cookson, her uncle's wife] and my uncle as to whether your father might be 'abusing' you, but their conclusion, in common with any others in the parish who harboured the same thoughts, was that your own happy demeanour and unfeigned devotion to your father mitigated against any such suspicion. I must also say that your identical unfeigned devotion to your brothers acted the other way and confirmed in the minds of many, including I suspect my uncle's and, latterly at least, mine, that the source of your happy demeanour was likely the outcome of this devotion to your brothers being taken to its logical conclusion, but such matters are, of course, seen by all as purely and entirely a matter for parents or guardians to judge and control. I know my uncle would have intervened instantly had you made any appeal to him for assistance against abuse, or indeed had your demeanour called attention to itself and demanded investigation, but as you always seemed so innocent, happy and hearty, I know my uncle was content that your father had matters well in hand and saw no reason to intervene.
Yet my uncle is a man, and you are beautiful. That white band around his neck does nothing to block the demands flowing from the clergyman's loins to his brain, although I grant it is supposed to chain him to the obligations of his duty like the watchdog to its kennel, thereby to stop it indulging its nature by mauling its own flock. I am sure he would not have attempted to seduce you had he believed you were an innocent, but at age 21 and with the strong suspicion that you were sexually engaged with your brothers at least, I regret that few men in my uncle's powerful position would have been able to resist the thought of "I wonder if..." and perhaps seek to satisfy that curiosity. I am glad that my uncle did not persist in the face of your refusal, and am grateful to you for not injuring his reputation by shouting of it to the world.
In light of that proven discretion, I feel able to reveal to you that my uncle made trial of me also - and did not find me averse. Regarding himself in loco patris to me, he originally undertook to find me a husband - despite my assurances that I wanted no such thing - and took in hand my education with regard to a wife's duties. 'In hand' very well describes it, for he handled me a great deal and had me handle him even more. As I say, I was not averse, for although one's own fingers are the more responsive and subtle, the fingers of another relieve one of much distracting labour in the gratification of the flesh, while I was ever of the opinion that while a man with a sword in his hands has a powerful weapon, a woman with his penis in her hands can wield both man and sword, and is therefore even more powerful!
My uncle even made trial of my virginity, but, as with you, did not persist in the face of demure which I am sure he saw through, for no woman can surely have suffered her flows, nor her fertile time, as frequently as I claimed in those days. Certainly the fact I was his sister's daughter did not dampen his ardour nor raise any scruple, but he is not a man to take any woman against her will of that I am sure. In truth, I set little store by virginity, for I can see no point in any woman suffering the agonies of denied desires in order to retain that which only she can ever be certain she has, but, yes, even then, dear sister, I must confess that like some Lady of Camelot I had determined to make of my virginity a gift, and for all my gratitude and devotion to him, it was not a gift I wished to give my uncle.
(And, dear sister, to help pass these last few Sundays as you fidget on those unforgiving pews while my uncle lectures on morality from his pulpit, the following tale might ease the discomfort. That self-same pulpit was a place my uncle particularly enjoyed taking me in hand (or I him!) for my education of a quiet evening. It was during one such tutorial that Mrs. D.E. [probably Dora Edwards, churchwarden at St. Peter's from 1775 -1801] entered the nave unexpectedly. Had she seen her vicar with his penis between the lips of his niece (and honorary curate, not to mention Sunday-school teacher!) and being ministered to in that highly unbiblical way, I have no doubt at all that the entire parish would have known of it by sunrise and the whole County when next it set. Fortunately, being on my knees as though meekly at prayer, I was invisible behind the pulpit walls. Aware that my uncle was near to his climax, I determined that it would take too long a while for his manhood to retreat therefrom and return to a sufficiently flexible state to be returned to respectability. Thus, he with commendable composure and only an occasional unsteadiness of the voice addressed Mrs. E. and endeavoured to keep her at the length of the nave with some queries concerning the state of the font, while I used all my skills and 'education' to bring the matter to a neat and successful conclusion. This effected, the usual immediate and often most inconsiderate rapid collapse of my uncle's male member enabled me to feed it back into his breeches and the laces retie, at which he was able to descend from the pulpit to engage Mrs. E in conversation, leaving me kneeling in its shelter desperately swallowing at the tickle in my throat my uncle had left me with and shaking, although whether with fright or laughter I could not have said even then.)
Your confession to me of your 'indiscretion' with W. was unnecessary, for I knew of it and harbour no ill-will towards you because of it. Nor can I see any reason why I should, for you are sister, not rival, and W is not my husband despite all that passes between us. I must say, though, that I know of it only because W told me of it some months ago when your first letters arrived. I certainly knew nothing of it at the time.
How well I still remember you on those Sunday-school benches, the picture of the modest and innocent young lady blushing at the very mention of Adam's nakedness. Yet even before you seduced my brother, you with your father and your brothers 'under your belt!' were the woman, and I, the strict and omnipotent dispenser of knowledge before the class, was the virgin! And as we walked together down the lanes or shied stones into the village pond and I donned the mantle of elder sister if not mother to pass on warnings about the ways of men... Now I blush to remember of it, and think you could not have helped but secretly pity me my ignorance.
You do not say during which visit of his your attempt upon my brother was successful, not that I would imagine it required a siege of any magnitude, but I can assure you that he kept the secret successfully even from me, whom even then was closer to him than any. Had I known, though, at the time, I must confess I would have hated you, sister, for fear that you might make my own attempt upon my brother even more difficult than I expected it to be, if not impossible.
Your brothers, to be sure, made no trial of me, which I attributed both to my looks (or lack of them) [According to de Quincey, Dorothy's face was of "Egyptian brown", "rarely, in a woman of English birth, had I seen a more determinate gypsy tan.Her eyes were not soft, as Mrs. Wordsworth's, nor were they fierce or bold; but they were wild and startling, and hurried in their motion. And my bible-barricaded status, for what man would dream of attempting the seduction of a Sunday-school teacher? (Well, perhaps many dream, but who would dare think of embarking upon such a campaign?). I'm sure even my uncle only made such use of me because I was extremely convenient to him, especially during D's pregnancies. What hope did I really have that my handsome brother with his lofty ideals, whom I knew would never consider seducing his own sister even were she as beautiful as Helen, would possibly respond with anything other than appalled disgust and rejection were I to offer myself to him? Had I known at the time that I would have been offering myself in competition to your beauty and sweet femininity, I think I would have given up the attempt even before it was launched.
Oh, how close I came to doing that anyway. I adored W and the thought of earning his rejection, the fear that I might disgust him both in myself and in my designs, terrified me. Too, I was not then entirely free of that biblical morality which invests even the thought of brother-sister carnality, let alone its practice, with the promise of hell-fire and brimstone retribution. That you, younger than I and five-times guilty of such 'sin', were able to attend church and Sunday-school with such purity of conscience now fills me with amazement, and if any ignorant words of mine at that time ever caused a shadow to fall on that conscience, I now most humbly beg your forgiveness. Of course, that such joy could ever be considered a sin is, to my mind now, the only sin involved.
Yet back to my seduction of my brother, which I hope you will not think amiss if I describe just as one sister might share the events of the surrender of her virginity with another and by doing so relive them, for I have no other sister with whom to share them. Many were the false starts during my brother's visits, those chances missed when alone with him I might have bared my heart (and all the rest of me!) but cowardice prevailed. I watched him as a hawk a mouse for any lingering of his gaze upon my bosom, which at times I fear I thrust at him most shamelessly, and searched the front panel of his breeches for any sign of that stiffness which might betray some thoughts of me he might think secret and hid, to no avail. How oft between those visits did I imagine my uncle's fingers upon my breasts or between my legs were W's and the stiff and throbbing manhood in my hands or mouth my brother's, and so deceive myself that the pleasure I was receiving and giving was ten times the greater because of it.
I even once embarked, taking the opportunity to remind W of those times when he, still a boy yet with those first stirrings of curiosity as to the female form and his own response to it, sought to satisfy that curiosity with me as the only girl available to him. [No date or place can be allocated to this. Between 1778 and 1787 Dorothy and her brothers lived with different relations, and it is hard to imagine such adolescent games taking place as late as the latter date, when William was 17 and Dorothy 16. However, the Wordsworth children and their guardians doubtless visited and spent time with each other often during this period.] Yet his response was immediately to color and beg my forgiveness for his abuse of me so fervently that I was completely unable to inform him that I was willing and only too eager for him not only to resume such investigations but avid for him to pursue them to the ultimate.
So did I come eventually to my Rubicon. With W bound for France and all the huge and dangerous uncertainties there [in 1791 with the King still living, the possibility that the considerable opposition to the Revolution could unify behind him and plunge France into outright civil war, with neighboring monarchies such as England coming to his assistance with troops, was very real], while I faced a lifetime of old-maidhood in Norfolk. I begged W to take me with him, yet how could he, for he had no living to support himself, let alone a sister as well. Yet in those last days of his visit, he did handle me gently, on the shoulders as a brother should, yet how I thrilled even to that, and kiss me gently and chastely, yet still setting my blood afire. And he promised that, if it came to it, he would do his best to support me and preserve me from an unwanted marriage, and even make a home for me. Yet I knew the home he had in mind - with me spinning unwanted and half-forgotten in the corner by the fire, housemaid to his wife - and that if I accepted it, I would have to live within the expectations it entailed. Which I knew I could not bear.
Thus it all came down to one last throw, on his last night in the rectory. I had to risk all and show my true self, and live forever with the consequences. In terror I crept into W's room and, naked, slipped into his bed. He woke to a sister's hands and mouth upon his manhood, a sister's bare breasts pressed against him, a sister's slippery sex seeking him. It seemed to me that my only chance was to wake the man before the brother woke, and my assault was successful for he was within me, my virginity given, before his eyes widened in the frosty starlight and he said my name.
Too late by then, of course, and he could no more stop himself from completing the act and impregnating me than water can run uphill. Then did he appreciate the true gift I had for him. Not the mere onceness of my virginity but that bliss I had to offer him any and every time he chose to take it, purchased not with coin or promises or even exchange of love's duties, but on permanent, unlimited, unconstrained offer, free, and easy as breathing.
So, dear Emma, were the foundations of my present life laid in that bed that night, and with so much joy. And the moral, the purpose of this story?
It is, brave the risks and seize the moment. When I recall how terrified I was when I crept soft-footed along the corridor to my brother's room, how close I came to turning back even as I laid my hand upon the door handle, I shudder now to think of it, for without that mutual commitment, that exchange of crimson virgin blood for snow-white seed (to be poetical - the red-rose and the white?), I never would have known the life and joy I now have.
So Emma, when that last day comes, that last moment in which the choice between your father's house and secret bed or a married life in India with your brother still lies before you, remember me creeping a virgin to my brother's room, to leave it in the grey dawn a woman complete, with a brother's commitment to me rather than wife in my very womb. And if you have any last doubts, just ask yourself if you envy me the child of our coupling that night, for if you do, your way will surely become clear.
My every wish for your happiness and good fortune will accompany you on that way, your affectionate sister, DW.The "adventure" in the summer of 1798 referred to by Dorothy in her last letter to Emma was a tour by the three friends of the Wye Valley in South Wales from which was born Wordsworth's poem, "Tintern Abbey," perhaps the most beautiful and perfect of all the poetry of the Romantic Movement and well-deserving of its recognized place as one of the finest poems in the English language. No less than the final third of it is an open acknowledgment of his debt to his sister for "another gift, of aspect more sublime: that blessed mood in which the burden of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world, is lightened," and with the fresh insight into the exact nature of his relationship with her gained from her letters to Emma Gidding, these words take on even greater passion, and indeed an eroticism they never had before.
The enigmatic allusions in the final paragraph of Dorothy's last letter to Emma are particularly interesting. There has never before been any suggestion that she bore a child to anyone, let alone her brother, even as a hint by the most savage of the detractors of her 'lifestyle.' Moreover, and even though she wrote nothing with the intent that it be published and in fact nothing of hers was published until after her death, there is still nothing anywhere within it to suggest she had a child or yearned for one, living or desired. My own view is that 'brother's commitment within her womb' to which she refers is nothing more than William's commitment to her rather than to taking a wife, while the 'child' of their coupling that night was merely the fully-sexual life together which ensued.
Yet the possibility that she did conceive a child by her brother that last night in Forncett St. Peter rectory cannot be totally discounted. With the gift of her virginity given, Dorothy may well, perhaps just as a precaution, have no longer resisted her uncle's advances, and when she knew she was pregnant, attributed it to him. Obviously, the scandal of having made his own niece pregnant while in his care would have been catastrophic for the reputation and career of the Revd. Cookson, and it is not improbable that in those circumstances, Dorothy might well have 'disappeared' from Forncett St. Peter for a few months later in the year, in order to have the baby discreetly 'out of view' and have it adopted - something Emma at least might have been aware of.
With this regard, it has always been accepted that while in France, William Wordsworth fathered a child on one Annette Vallon. The child, a girl called Caroline, is said to have been born in December 1792 and thus cannot have been Dorothy's by William if this is correct. In August 1802, William and Dorothy took advantage of the Peace of Amiens to travel to Calais and meet with Annette and Caroline. However, it is slightly odd that after ten years' separation, during most of which William struggled financially to support himself and Dorothy and would have been hard-pressed indeed to support a mistress and child in France, Annette should still have been willing to meet with him and give him access to the child. However, had Dorothy travelled to France to bear a child in 1791, a child what is more for which her uncle took responsibility, it is possible that Annette Vallon was merely a foster or adoptive mother, and the child was financially maintained throughout this period by the Revd. Cookson, with William, in his role as putative father, the 'official' link between the Cookson/Wordsworth families and the child. This would certainly be more likely had the child been born in December 1791, which might indeed be the case with a simple error or confusion arising later as to the date for any number of possibilities. If this is the case, one might wonder why Dorothy and William did not assume responsibility for their child when they became able to - in 1802 if not earlier. However, their uncle might very well have been unhappy at such a prospect, as might Annette Vallon and William's then prospective wife. One can even imagine Dorothy not informing William that the child was, in fact, his. Furthermore, with England actually at war with France for most of this period, it might well have been impossible even if desired. There is a record of another meeting between William, Dorothy, Annette and Caroline as late as 1820, which also included Annette's husband, whom, one might expect, should not have been at all happy for his wife to meet with her early lover and the father of the child he stood "in loco patris" to.
In October 1802, William, by now in Dove Cottage with Dorothy, married Mary Hutchinson. Both William and Dorothy had known Mary and her sisters since childhood. She certainly could not have been ignorant of the rumors surrounding them, and as she had lived with William and Dorothy for several months when they were at Racedown, it is hard to imagine she was unaware of what we now know to be the truth of them. Dorothy herself did not attend the wedding, as she was said to have been 'hysterical,' a catch-all medical diagnosis of the time for practically any mental distress of the female and invariably thought to have a sexual origin. However, she seems to have quickly reconciled herself to the change in her status, or perhaps an 'accommodation' was reached between William's wife and sister. William and Mary's first child, John, was born only eight months after the wedding, yet a mere six weeks later, William, Dorothy and Samuel Coleridge left Dove Cottage together for a tour of Scotland, leaving Mary holding the baby! In addition, Dorothy's own 'Grasmere Journal' for this period is generally regarded as containing her finest work.
In 1806, one of Mary's sisters joined the household, and in 1808, so did her other one. It was between these two events, in 1807, that Thomas de Quincey stayed at Dove Cottage and later not only comments rather suggestively upon William's having both wife and sister-in-law in his household but also hints that he is sleeping with his own sister. As might be imagined, Dove Cottage is not the cozy two-roomed thatched nook the name suggests but is actually a reasonably substantial house, which is fortunate because, in addition to his wife and collection of female relatives, William's growing fame and recognition as a poet and metaphysical thinker attracted a growing crowd of admirers such as Robert Southey as well as 'hangers-on,' so that it was not unusual for there to be a dozen or more guests at Dove Cottage at any one time. Quite how William managed his ménage à quatre, whether Dorothy ever did get the opportunity to earn the unqualified title of wanton and whether she seized it with both hands if she did, we will probably never know.
Dorothy's last years were not happy ones. She suffered physical ailments and increasingly with what would now be termed dementia. Regrettably, some were quick to attribute this to a 'punishment' for her 'lifestyle' (read 'incest') with her brother, and perhaps they were not altogether wrong, for in the increasingly moralistic and straight-laced atmosphere of the Victorian age, her 'bold and brazen' defiance regarding her relationship with her brother must have become ever harder to maintain and a heavier burden as she herself grew more frail.
William Wordsworth, by then England's Poet Laureate, died on 23rd April 1850, and Dorothy on January 25th, 1855. It is said that during their lives, they were sometimes to be found lying side by side on the ground, pretending they were in their graves, and this macabre pantomime is now realized as they lie side by side in the graveyard at Grasmere, an arrangement more usual for husband and wife, of course, but surely appropriate for this brother and sister. | 5 |
90,176 | Stephanie's Biggest Challenge | 'Twas the night before WrestleMania, and Stephanie McMahon was a bit worried. Why? Because she felt bad that she didn't accept Melissa McCarthy's challenge at WrestleMania. Melissa knew it would be a staged match, but she just wanted the chance to put Stephanie in the stinkface and fart all over her, and that's what she was set to do. To get into Stephanie's hotel room, Melissa had to politely ask Hunter (Triple H) for the key and also pay him over $200,000, but it was worth it. Melissa made sure she was to give Stephanie the worst stinkface punishment ever, so she made sure she filled up on extremely gassy foods, and also it was important that she got rope and tape to secure Stephanie in her bed so that she wasn't able to move.
Stephanie McMahon relaxed and watched TV and began to get sleepy. She began to doze off to sleep while watching a replay of Monday Night Raw to see if she did well. She fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake up.
Stephanie woke up to scratch her arm but realized that she couldn't, and she gasped when she saw Melissa McCarthy in a bright velvet dress, smiling at her. "Do you like my outfit, Steph?" she asked in a teasing way. "What are you doing???!!!! Let me out now!!!" Stephanie yelled at the top of her lungs as she thrashed and kicked, trying to loosen the ties. "Listen, Steph, you didn't want a match tomorrow night, so I'm gonna give you my own match I have designed. If you can stay conscious for 30 minutes, since tomorrow is WrestleMania 30, woohoo, I will let you go safe and sound, and no talking about this. But if you can't, this session lasts longer and you will suffer more!" Melissa declared, but Stephanie didn't want to listen, instead she screamed until Melissa put the tape across her mouth and jumped her fat ass on her chest. Stephanie lost a little bit of air and struggled to breathe under Melissa, who sat full-weight on her chest and smiled. Stephanie flared her nostrils just to get air and breathe, but barely, and it was the only thing to keep her conscious.
"There, that's good, just continue to do that so I can do this-" *PRRRRPPPPPPRRROOOOOT!* That was held in so long, and Melissa sighed right after that big fart, and watched the impact of Stephanie, who struggled helplessly to get Melissa off of her but couldn't even budge her as the smell caved in on her and she whimpered miserably through the tape. "Want some more? Huh?" "Mmmmmmnnnnoommmphhh! NNOOOOOOMPHHHH!" Stephanie screamed. "Well, here's more!"
Melissa once again turned her body around, almost crushing the ribs of Stephanie, and she lowered her ass right on the tip of Stephanie's nose, then intentionally let out a silent but violent fart, and Stephanie could feel the warm air as it entered her nose and caused her to gag and scream through the tape in anger. This time Stephanie used all of her might and energy to budge Melissa off a little tiny bit, but she was extremely exhausted and gasped for air, so she inhaled through her nose only to get an even deeper whiff of that last fart that soiled the room. Melissa slipped her dress off and then notified Stephanie, "You have 24 minutes left, stay in it, Stephanie!" She teased, then she lowered her ass a little more and blasted a big *SHRRROOOOOMPHHHHHHHT* in her panties, and a little bit of shit splattered in them from the wetness of that fart. Stephanie wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes to try to tolerate it, but it was way too rank to ignore. Melissa bounced her ass on her face, then took her panties off and rubbed them all over Stephanie's face at the 20-minute mark. "NNNNNNNNNNMPPPPHHHHHH!" Stephanie yelled violently through the tape as she suffered to smell the shit-covered undergarment. Melissa raised her leg in her face and let a big puff of fart gas travel fast to her face and leave her fading. Stephanie's head spun from the power, and then she realized Melissa was about to do it again, so she turned her face, allowing her nostrils to face another way, but that way. Before Melissa exploded her gas, she noticed and held Stephanie's head easily and then let it all out. *PROOOOOOOOOMPPPPHHHHHHT!* The gas expelled and went straight to Stephanie's nostrils and into her lungs, forcing her to choke and gag as her nose began to turn red. Melissa laughed and erupted an even bigger fart straight up her nose to force her to pass out with 14 minutes remaining.
Stephanie woke up still in the position she was previously, and Melissa stood over her. "You lose, Stephanie McMahon. Now it's time for complete torture." Melissa said, followed by her smothering Steph with her big feet. She shoved Stephanie's nose in between her disgusting feet filled with dirt and forced her to smell them. Melissa crouched down and came all over her face and then pissed on her face. "Oops...a little more than cum..." Melissa giggled as she held Stephanie's nose and forced her to hold her breath for about 40 seconds, then as soon as she let go, she turned her ass to her face and-*VROOOMPFFFFT!* Stephanie yelled through the tape, and Melissa slapped her several times, then she began to pinch Stephanie's nipples through her sleepwear. Melissa thought of quick torturous things for a moment, then stood up and dropped her ass on Stephanie's face and stayed there for a while, then stood up to see Stephanie, who looked half-alive and barely moving. She rubbed her pussy all over Steph's fuckable nose and came in it a little. Steph could do nothing about this brutal punishment, all she could do was fight to survive and live to see another day, which, Melissa knew she would, she was having fun. Now Melissa decided to make her pass out once more by blasting 5 straight farts right up her nose, then completely smothering her with her huge ass and not letting off.
Stephanie woke up the next day, half-tied, and felt like complete crap as the room smelled of crap, and she found shit in her bed and pussy juices. The maid wasn't cleaning any of that up. | 3 |
90,965 | Asian Delight | 'Cute, isn't she?'
I glanced at the guy to my right. We had both been watching the same thing - a cute Filipino girl of about eleven, who was sitting on the lap of a fat, middle-aged white guy. Her light pink cotton dress scarcely covered her ass. It didn't take a degree in rocket science to figure out that she wasn't this man's daughter. I had already been in Manila for two days, but had yet to find myself a pre-teen girl. There were plenty of teenage prostitutes available, but I hadn't come all this way to fuck the kind of girl I could easily find back home.
'Sure is,' I agreed. 'But I like my girls a little younger.'
He nodded. 'Me too. First time in the Philippines?'
'Yeah. I heard this was a pedo's paradise, but I haven't had any luck yet. Guess you have to know where to look.'
'I know where to look,' he told me. 'Haven't you noticed all those little kids begging in the street? Picking one up is child's play, if you'll pardon the phrase. I come here twice a year, so I should know. My name's Carl, by the way.'
I shook his hand. 'Pleased to meet you. I'm Max.'
'Well, Max, I suggest we finish our beers and go find ourselves some child pussy. We can take her back to my hotel. I have an arrangement with the doorman.'
Carl was right. The streets of Manila were a pedophile's shopping mall, crawling with poverty-stricken kids whose eyes lit up at the sight of a dollar. The girl we chose looked like she was hardly five years old. She didn't speak a word of English, but that didn't matter. We didn't plan on giving her mouth much time for talking.
Twenty minutes later, we were in Carl's hotel room. I whistled as he stripped the child of her street rags. She was a real beauty, with shoulder-length black hair and a small, unblemished, dark-skinned body. From the frightened look in her big brown eyes, it was obvious she had not been in this kind of situation before. Innocent and unmolested. Perfect!
'Want to help me get her cleaned up and ready to fuck?' asked Carl.
'You bet,' I answered, my hard-on already uncomfortable in my trousers.
We both stripped, then led the naked little girl to the bathroom. There wasn't room for three in the shower cubicle, so Carl had the pleasure of washing and soaping her, paying particular attention to her ass and pussy. I stood in the doorway, fisting the throbbing boner that would shortly be breaking this little slut wide open.
'Ever fucked one this young before?' asked Carl.
'Never had the opportunity,' I answered. 'That's the reason I came here.'
I toweled the little girl dry, taking the opportunity to touch her all over. The mound of her hairless pussy was soft as silk.
'Christ, she's so small!' I murmured, tracing a fingertip over her tiny slit.
Carl grinned. 'That's the way we love 'em, right?'
The little one squealed as I pushed the tip of my finger into her pussy. But she didn't squeal for long. My partner grabbed her by the hair and forced the fat purple crown of his huge cock into her open mouth. She started to gag as he rammed several inches down her throat. Had he tried to stuff her with his full ten inches, he would certainly have broken her jaw and probably choked her. I thrust my finger deeper into her virgin pussy, holding her with one arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
The sight of Carl's massive hard-on fucking her face was the most exciting thing I had ever seen. Though I did not consider myself a sadist, I had no problem with us forcing this small, helpless girl to do whatever we wanted. When it came to my turn, there would be no holding back. After all, sex with children was the one and only reason I had come to Manila.
'Yeah, suck that big cock, you dirty little cunt!' Carl grunted, ramming his fuckpole further down her throat.
Her little body jerked as I penetrated her with the full length of my finger. I couldn't believe how tight she was.
'Christ, I can't wait to fuck her!' I gasped.
'Then don't,' Carl replied. 'Ohhhhhhhhhh...... what a fucking sweet baby cocksucker!'
I raised the little girl off the tiles, so that she was splayed face down between us both, her mouth stretched around Carl's thrusting cock. Holding her with one hand, I positioned my boner between her thighs, then pushed the wet head against her pouting slit. It took more effort than I had imagined to force even the first inch inside her. Her virgin pussy was stretched wide open as I pushed deeper. Had she not been choking on Carl's cock, she would have screamed in agony.
'So fucking tight!' I grunted, impaling her on another two inches.
I moistened my right thumb in my mouth, then jammed it into her asshole as I started to fuck her, stabbing her tiny, tight pussy with rapid strokes of my engorged shaft. With each thrust, I sank a little deeper into her body, though I knew there was no way I could use my full eight inches, without causing her serious injury.
Carl was doing his best to ram his full length down her throat, holding her by the hair as he aggressively fucked her mouth. He climaxed first, shooting the first few globs of cream down her throat, milking the remainder of the thick mess over her face and hair. I was only minutes behind. My cock spasmed, then my hot lava flooded the child's ruptured pussy. Even before I had withdrawn, the slime was oozing from her slit and dribbling down her thighs.
Carl took several photographs of the dazed and sobbing little girl as she crouched on the floor at my feet, cum streaming down her face and upper body and dripping from between her thighs. After we had cleaned her up and calmed her down a little, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She might have thought her ordeal was over then, but it was really just beginning. This little street slut was going nowhere for several hours yet.
Laying her, face down in the center of the large double bed, with two pillows beneath her belly, I held her thighs apart while Carl spread the petals of her pussy and examined her closely.
'Good fuck, huh, Max?' he asked.
'Best I've ever had,' I replied, smacking the child's ass.
While Carl probed her pussy with his fingers and tongue, I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her head up and forced my fresh hard-on into her mouth. In the next few minutes, I became a lust-crazed animal, raping her throat with fast, deep cock thrusts, not caring that I was nearly choking her. Carl snapped a few photographs of the action, before spearing the little girl's pussy with his ten-inch fuckpole. He took her with such force, it was obvious he didn't care if he killed her. Right then, neither did I. The child meant nothing to either of us. We did not even know her name. She was a toy, to be raped and abused, before being tossed back onto the scrap heap.
'Fucking little cunt....................., so fucking tight!' Carl gasped, burying at least six inches of his shaft in the little girl's pussy.
We raped her without mercy, stuffing her with two throbbing lengths of cock, until she was pumped full of cum in both ends.
Afterwards, standing by the bed and smoking a cigarette, Carl looked down with obvious pleasure at the little girl. She crouched between my thighs, tears and semen running down her face, her mouth filled with my semi-hard cock. It felt so good, I just didn't want to let her go. My grip on the back of her neck ensured she did not even try to get away.
'Christ, I love these little kids!' Carl sighed. 'If only it was so easy to get your hands on 'em back home. I could fuck my way through a kindergarten a week and I don't think it'd be enough.'
'They sure are addictive,' I agreed. 'You get much back home?'
'I don't have any kids of my own,' he answered. 'But I have a few good friends who don't mind sharing their little ones with a fellow pedo. I don't go for anything over eight. The younger, the better - that's my motto.'
'A good philosophy,' I agreed. 'This little beauty is just perfect. Fuck, I'm getting hard again already!'
Carl's cock was rapidly regaining full stiffness as well.
'Then stick that hard-on in the little bitch,' he grinned. 'That's what she's here for.'
'I want to fuck her in the ass,' I said.
Carl licked his lips. 'That's exactly what I was thinking. Let's flip a coin for who goes first. You call.''Tails,' was my appropriate response.
He flipped a coin, and we both watched it fall to the bed.
I smiled triumphantly. 'Must be my lucky day. Got any lube?'
Carl took a tube of KY from the bedside table drawer and handed it to me. 'Always keep a supply. Grease her up and enjoy. You haven't lived until you've fucked a little girl up the ass.'
I smeared some of the clear jelly over my cock, then thrust the nozzle of the tube into my little fuck slut's asshole. Carl held the wriggling and whimpering child down, while I squirted a generous quantity of KY into her rear orifice.
Kneeling behind her, I raised her lower body off the bed and positioned my cock head at her one remaining virginal entrance. The pillow muffled her screams as I spread her legs and forced my throbbing boner into her ultra-tight rectum. As I stretched and filled the hot canal, I knew I had saved the best for last. Even well lubed, she was so tight it hurt.
'Oh fuck... oh Jesus..., this is incredible!' I gasped.
'Oh yeah, fuck that baby girl asshole!' Carl grunted excitedly.
Pinning the squirming little girl to the bed with one hand, he pumped his hard cock with the other. I rammed my shaft hard and deep into her ass, impaling her a little more with each thrust. This was like my every hottest fantasy coming true at once. If I had known it would be this mind-blowing, I would never have been able to wait so long. It was difficult to believe I was fucking a girl so small and so young.
I raped the five-year-old child like a wild beast, ravaging her asshole with my frenziedly stabbing cock. By the time my cum flooded her bowels, I was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
The instant I had withdrawn, Carl snatched her legs, flipped her over, and drew her onto his greased cock, his big hands gripping her small thighs. It was no longer necessary to hold her down, as she had lost the will and strength to offer even the slightest resistance. All she could do was whimper hoarsely as her tender asshole was invaded by over six inches of huge cock meat.
'Man, she is so fucking tight!' Carl cried. 'You hear me, little bitch? Daddy's gonna fuck your tight little ass so hard, you'll wish you were dead.'
The big man fucked the child with such brutality, I was surprised he didn't disembowel her. After he had filled her ass with a second load of semen, he carried her to the bathroom, still impaled on his cock. I followed right behind, not wanting to miss a thing.
Sitting her on the toilet bowl, he forced her to open her mouth, then began to piss. The hot amber stream gushed into her mouth and eyes, drenching her face and hair. I had never seen such a perverted sight.
'Feel free, Max,' Carl called out, wielding his streaming cock like a fire hose. 'She's your toilet too.'
I did not need a second invitation. Before he had even finished, I was emptying my bladder over the dark-skinned little girl, reveling in the freedom to enjoy this additional depraved luxury.
The helpless child was repeatedly raped in all three orifices and used as a piss bowl for a second time, before my friend and I were finally satisfied. We cleaned her up, dressed her, and delivered her back to the streets, with enough cash stuffed in her panties to feed her family for a month. It was a small price to pay for an unforgettable afternoon.
'So, what do you have planned for the rest of your vacation?' Carl asked, as we enjoyed a celebratory beer in the bar where we had met.
'Same thing as you,' I replied. 'Matter of fact, I think I might pick up another little girl for tonight. Now I've had a taste, I intend to make the most of every minute here.'
'I'll drink to that,' my child-fucking friend grinned. | 4 |
97,808 | Maa | 'Hey Maa, I seek your blessing for this divine copulation. Welcome me in your depths, from where I came and to where I want to arrive.' Keeping my hands on either side of her, I looked into her eyes twinkling with pleasure and a hint of tears.
'Come, my son, your mother welcomes you. But you have to promise that you will follow your duty and respect the boundaries of our love.' Saying this, she held my penis and placed it at the opening of her pussy. With a slight movement of her hips, she urged me to push.
I backed to kneel again between her thighs and watched my penis slowly disappearing into her depths. I saw her labia stretching to accommodate and her engorged clit quivering. The feeling was too good to bear, so I pulled out all the way and, holding her waist, pushed it all the way in with one smooth stroke.
Amma gasped and let out a long moan. I looked up at her, and to my surprise, her eyes were locked on mine. She kept looking at me and then raised her arms, beckoning me to lie on her. I sank into her arms, put my lips on hers, and probed my tongue inside, which she welcomed and started to suck on.
I started to move, not exactly intending to saw into her but just to keep the sensitivity alive. Amma, looking intent, raised her legs and crossed them over my back. Taking the cue, I started to fuck her in deep, long, slow strokes and settled into a rhythm. I continued this without any hurry, and our eyes locked into each other. She gave sensuous looks, biting her lower lip and murmuring 'ooo...ooff! Aa..ah beta! Hmmm..hmph!' This drove me wild, but with tremendous self-restraint, I maintained the slow fucking.
Keeping myself in her, I raised and sat kneeling between her thighs. I wanted to look at her, and I soaked up her image of a lady in love, roaming my eyes all over her until I saw my rod embedded in her. I pushed it a little and then pulled out, and it felt exotic, my penis glistening with juices going in and out of my beloved mom's pussy.
'What I see in your eyes cannot be sin. I never felt anything lacking, yet I am feeling a completeness. Come, my darling son, give your mother what she had been waiting for without even knowing.' Saying this, she spread her thighs in an almost impossible posture, lifted her thighs, hooked her elbows underneath her knees, and pulled upwards until her arse got upturned and her pussy exposed to receive me.
I hunched on her, placing my hands on her sides, and started to hump her with hard, deep plunges. Every time I struck hard into her depths, her pussy tilted backwards, giving me even deeper penetration. I maintained a deep fucking rhythm, sending ripples in her belly. Her breasts swayed with every thrust, and she arched her back and lifted her chin.
'Pee lo beta, I wish I still had them full.' I sucked harder, mauling her breasts and alternating between the nipples. I continued to saw my penis hard and fast inside Amma, my hips pounding her pudendum with an urgency, making hard slapping sounds which, in harmony with her moans, hisses, and incoherent encouragement, was music.
Suddenly, in an urgent move, she got her legs down, planted her feet firmly on the bed with her knees bent and raised. She started to raise her hips with every move, ramming my hips hard onto her pussy and raising her hips to meet me. She did it with such vigor that it was becoming difficult for me to keep pace with her.
'Chinu, my darling son, do it...do it harder, my son, take me across this wide or I will die.' With that, she urged me on, and I started to ram into her deep. I placed my mouth on her breasts and suckled on her nips, biting them hard, and she moaned 'aa..aaaah! beta.'
Her jabs were getting shorter and more urgent, and she was getting there. I moved on to kiss her, and she immediately pushed her tongue inside, and I sucked hardly on her tongue.
'Aii....i...y..y...iii...eee.e.....aaaaah!' She arched her back to an impossible angle, raising her entire body and supporting our joint weight on her shoulders and feet, and started to release. She scratched and dug nails into my back, holding that pose for a few seconds before slumping back, screaming 'don't stop, my son, or I will die. Just give it to me, my son, GIVE IT.'
She once again raised her thighs, and I held them and pushed them over to expose her slobbering pussy, starting to saw my penis in long and hard strokes. I knew she was in the middle of her pent-up orgasm and desperately needed hard fucking to let go.
'Yes...yes....my darling son, just a little more...a little more, my child. Aaaa....rrnn...ghhhhh..! Chinuuuuuuuuu........I am there, my son, hold me.' And she clutched me in her vice-like grip and held me still. I let go of her thighs and fucked her in short jabs as she bucked her hips to take more of me inside.
She did not ooze but rather bled her juices profusely, and my penis was making a sloshing sound going in and out of her pussy. Now she lay relaxed and loose, sweat pouring from her body. She smelled of sweat and sex, and it drove me nuts. I stayed still, burying my face between her breasts, inhaling her intoxicating aroma.
Amma pushed me, holding my shoulders, and looked at me lovingly, running her fingers on my face. She smiled, her face glowing, and she once again lifted her thighs and wriggled her arse to remind me of fucking.
I resumed in nice, slow strokes, observing the expressions on her face. 'Oh Chinu, I never had such an explosive orgasm ever before in my life.' She said haltingly between her moans. I reached to kiss her with a smile. 'I love you, Amma,' and she held my face and kissed my forehead, eyes, nose, and then on the mouth, sucking my lower lip into her.
I was striving for my own peak, thus started to fuck with long and hard strokes. I pulled out more than half and then jabbed it hard into her. She reciprocated by pulling her thighs further up and thus receiving me in her upturned pussy to the hilt.Initially, she kept mewing and sucking in, but as the tempo increased, she rode high on her own excitement, encouraging me.
"Oooo...oof, Son, fill me up, sow your seed in your mother's womb, my darling." And so on. I realized we were not using any protection, and she could get knocked up. Erotic feeling, huh! Knocking up the womb that carried you for 9 months. But soon, my worries were put to rest.
"Chinoo... Kash ki main garbh dharan kar sakti. Tumhare virya se sthapit garbh mere bachche. Beta, apne virya se meri yoni bhar do. Aa...aaah, Chinu, bhar do mujhe." (Chinu, I wish I could get pregnant by your seed. Oh! How I crave to carry a child by you. Darling, fill my vagina with your seed, son, FILL ME UP.)
She was now completely out of her mould of worldly alignments. She was open-heartedly exclaiming her love and desire. I too was reaching my peak. Eager to bring this union to conclusion, I started fucking hard and fast. I moved on to hold her breasts for leverage and started to savagely saw into her. It must have been painful as I held her breasts with all my strength and pulled them to ram into her. I felt my orgasm building up.
"Amma .....Oh my beloved, here I come. Oh Ma, take me in you, accept my seed. Oooooooooo....ooh! Ma."
"Cum, my darling son, bless your mother's pussy with your virile seed. This vagina longed your seed for my uncountable past lives. Come, my darling, fill me up."
I let go of her breasts, snaked my arm underneath her neck, and pulled her to kiss. I mashed her mouth with mine and started to shoot my cum into her. She sensed my eruption and, planting her feet on the bed, started to buck her hips to receive me. She reached out for my bums and started to slam-bam again.
"Oh Chinuuu...uuuu. I am gone again." She let out an animal grunt and continued to her second orgasm, humping me back. She grunted with every stroke. I bucked my hips to pour all that was there in her willing womb. My frantic humps faded into slow bucking till my mother squeezed all of what she wanted.
After our fucking frenzy came to an end, we laid spent and exhausted. Me on top of her while she held me close and tight with her arms across my back. I sensed her pussy pulsing and gripping my penis in her post-orgasm rigors. The feeling was exquisite, as she milked my penis with her pussy, I moved again a little, only to be stopped by her. She asked me to stay still and let her feel me inside.
My penis shrunk and popped out of her. Amma smiled at me and asked me to get off, saying that she needs to clean herself. I slid off her and laid by her side.
She sat up, looked between her spread-out legs, and exclaimed, "Chinu, dekho tumne kya kiya hai." (Chinu, see what you have done.)
I got up and looked; there was a puddle of our juices at the base of her pussy on the bed, and her vagina was still leaking my cum. I looked up, and she smiled, "I am sorry, son, all this virile seed of yours is wasted. In Shivangi's (My Wife) womb, it could have made a fine son. If only I could carry." She reached to give me a peck on the lips. I scooped the fluid and rubbed it on her breasts, I kissed her full on her mouth, and pushed my finger into her.When she saw it, she loved it so much that now she wants a handy cam around every time we make love.
Suddenly, in an urgent move, she got her legs down, planted her feet firmly on the bed with her knees bent and raised. She started to raise her hips with every move. God almighty, she was now humping me from below. She was ramming my hips hard onto her pussy and raising her hips to meet me. She did it with such vigor that it was becoming difficult for me to keep pace with her. There was a riot on the bed, desperate slamming of our bodies with moans, hisses, and grunts echoing in the room.
I sensed she was approaching her orgasm. I played along with no moves of my own. I played an instrument, taking my mother to her peak. She was humping so hard that I found myself completely out of control and was like a doll between her thighs.
"Chinu...aa...aahh.....chinu, bкte, do it ....do it harder, my son, take me across this wide or I will die, ooooooo....ooooohhh! Beta, main majhdhar mein hun, mujhe par kara de mere bachche." (Oh my darling son, I am just about to arrive, son, please pull me over.) With that, she urged me on, and I started to ram into her deep. I placed my mouth on her breasts and suckled on her nips. I bit them hard, and she moaned "aa..aaaah! Beta."
Her jabs were getting shorter and with urgency; she was getting there. I moved on to kiss her. She immediately pushed her tongue inside, and I sucked hardly on her tongue.
"Aii....i...y..y...iii...eee.e.....aaaaah!" She arched her back to an impossible angle, raising her entire body and supporting our joint weight on her shoulders and feet, and started to release. She scratched and dug nails into my back. She held that pose for a few seconds and slumped back, screaming, "Ruk mat, beta, nahin to meri jaan nikal jayegi. Mujhe de do, beta." (Oh my son, don't stop, or I will die, just give it to me, my son, GIVE IT.)
She once again raised her thighs. I held her thighs and pushed them over to expose her slobbering pussy and started to saw my penis in long and hard strokes. I knew she was in the middle of her pent-up orgasm and desperately needed hard fucking to let go.
"Yes...yes....mere bкte, bas thoda aur ....thoda aur mere bachche aaaa....rrnn...ghhhhh..! Chinuuuuuuuuu........main gayi, mujhe sambhal, beta." (YesSSSS......SSSSS, my darling, yeah.. a little more, haaaaa.rder.. ....I am just there, darling, just there.... Honey, harder ...shr..i..e..k, I am losing it, chinu, hold me, honey.) And she clutched me in her vice-like grip and held me still. I let go of her thighs and fucked her in short jabs; she bucked her hips to take more of me inside.
She did not ooze, rather bled her juices profusely, and my penis was making a sloshing sound going in and out of her pussy. Now she lay relaxed and loose, sweat poured from her body. She smelled of sweat and sex, and it drove me nuts. I stayed still, burying my face between her breasts, inhaling her intoxicating aroma.
Amma pushed me, holding my shoulders, and looked at me lovingly, running her fingers on my face. She smiled, her face was glowing, she was a different woman now, and she once again lifted her thighs and wriggled her arse to remind me of fucking.
I resumed in nice slow strokes, observing expressions on her face. "OH...Chinu, aisa visphotak charam maine aaj tak anubhav nahin kiya." (Oh Chinu, I never had such an explosive orgasm ever before in my life.) She said haltingly between her moans. I reached to kiss her with a smile. "I love you, Amma," she held my face and kissed my forehead, eyes, nose, and then on my mouth, sucking my lower lip into hers.
I was striving for my own peak, thus started to fuck with long and hard strokes. I pulled out more than half and then jabbed it hard in her. She reciprocated by pulling her thighs further up and thus receiving me in her upturned pussy to the hilt. Initially, she kept mewing and sucking in, but as the tempo increased, she rode high on her own excitement, encouraging me.
"Oooo...oof Son, fill me up, sow your seed in your mother's womb, my darling." And so on. I realized we were not using any protection, and she could get knocked up. Erotic feeling, huh! Knocking up the womb that carried you for 9 months. But soon, my worries were put to rest.
"Chinoo... Kash ki main garbh dharan kar sakti. Tumhare virya se sthapit garbh mere bachche. Beta, apne virya se meri yoni bhar do. Aa...aaah Chinu, bhar do mujhe." (Chinu, I wish I could get pregnant by your seed. Oh! How I crave to carry a child by you. Darling, fill my vagina with your seed, son, FILL ME UP.)
She was now completely out of her mould of worldly alignments. She was open-heartedly exclaiming her love and desire. I too was reaching my peak. Eager to bring this union to conclusion, I started fucking hard and fast. I moved on to hold her breasts for leverage and started to savagely saw into her. It must have been painful as I held her breasts with all my strength and pulled them to ram into her. I felt my orgasm building up.
"Amma .....Oh my beloved, here I come. Oh Ma, take me in you, accept my seed. Oooooooooo....ooh! Ma."
"Cum, my darling son, bless your mother's pussy with your virile seed. This vagina longed your seed for my uncountable past lives. Come, my darling, fill me up."
I let go of her breasts, snaked an arm underneath her neck, and pulled her to kiss. I mashed her mouth with mine and started to shoot my cum into her. She sensed my eruption and, planting her feet on the bed, started to buck her hips to receive me. She reached out for my bums and started to slam-bam again.
"Oh Chinuuu...uuuu. I am gone again." She let out an animal grunt and continued to her second orgasm, humping me back. She grunted with every stroke. I bucked my hips to pour all that was there in her willing womb. My frantic humps faded into slow bucking until my mother squeezed all of what she wanted.
After our fucking frenzy came to an end, we laid spent and exhausted. Me on top of her while she held me close and tight with her arms across my back. I sensed her pussy pulsing and gripping my penis in her post-orgasm rigors. The feeling was exquisite, as she milked my penis with her pussy, I moved again a little, only to be stopped by her. She asked me to stay still and let her feel me inside.
My penis shrunk and popped out of her. Amma smiled at me and asked me to get off, saying that she needs to clean herself. I slid off her and laid by her side.
She sat up, looked between her spread-out legs, and exclaimed, "Chinu, dekho tumne kya kiya hai." (Chinu, see what you have done.)
I got up and looked; there was a puddle of our juices at the base of her pussy on the bed, and her vagina was still leaking my cum. I looked up, and she smiled, "I am sorry, son, all this virile seed of yours is wasted. In Shivangi's (My Wife) womb, it could have made a fine son. If only I could carry." She reached to give me a peck on the lips. I scooped the fluid and rubbed it on her breasts, I kissed her full on her mouth, and pushed my finger into her. | 4 |
98,753 | Shy - Part 8 - Jasmine | 'You want a ride home?' I asked her as we walked into the parking lot together.
'Um, it's okay, I can walk.'
'It's right on my way, and those heels can't be comfortable to walk in,' I reasoned, looking appreciatively up and down her legs. I could see that she agreed with me, it was just the principle of it.
'Okay, if you're sure it's no trouble.'
I smiled my sweetest smile. 'It's no trouble at all.' It was, but it would be worth it. I opened my car door for her, and she climbed in, giving me a good glimpse of thigh as she slipped into the seat. I walked around to the other side of the car and slid into the driver's seat. I started the engine and pulled out of the lot.
'So,' I said as I drove, 'how's your boyfriend?'
'Oh, you know, typical male, always wanting something, never giving anything back. We're going through an "off" period where we're supposed to be taking time apart.'
'Right. Think it'll help?'
'Not likely, I'm sure he's screwing the bimbo on the top floor of his building.' Her eyes were downcast, and she looked uncomfortable, as though she didn't want to reveal this much information, but couldn't help it.
'You know,' I said soothingly, 'He's probably not worth it. I'm real easy to talk to. I've had my share of problems.'
'Yeah, I've heard you get around,' she said jokingly.
'You want a piece then?' I said casually and looked at her reaction. By the look on her face, I could tell I had shocked her, but beneath that was something more. A flicker of hope grew in me.
'That was the turning for my street,' she said, avoiding the subject.
I turned the car into a cul-de-sac and killed the engine. I undid my seatbelt and turned to look at her.
'Wha...' she started to say, before I silenced her with my mouth, pressing my lips firmly against hers. Her eyes opened wide and then fluttered closed as my tongue slid over her lips. I closed mine too, and her lips parted, allowing me to press my tongue into her mouth. My hand reached up to the back of her neck and pulled her hair free from the band that held it. It cascaded softly around her face and brushed against my cheek as I kissed her. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth. I could smell her perfume, her shampoo, her moisturizer. She was real and in my arms. Then reality slammed down on her. She pulled back and pushed me away.
'I'm not gay!' She said defiantly.
'I know that, I never said you were.'
'Then why the hell did you kiss me?' Her eyes flashed angrily.
I cocked my head to one side. 'Because you wanted me to.' Ever the logical one.
She looked perplexed. 'I didn't though.'
'Liar.'
She undid her seatbelt and opened the door. Her cute little ass bounced its way out of my car. I bolted out of my door and moved quickly to meet her by the hood of the car. I took hold of her arm and pulled her to face me.
'Tell me you don't want me.' My voice was filled with passion now.
'I don't want you.' Her voice trembled. I didn't believe her. I'd seen this before.
'You know where my house is, don't you?' I moved to plan B. She nodded.
'Good. I'll be home tonight and tomorrow morning. Think about it. If you change your mind, come and knock on my door. I don't care what time it is. I'm not going to push you, but I really think you're lying.'
'I just, I don't think I'm ready for this. I mean... I've looked at you and people have said things about you swinging both ways. I guess I never believed them. I guess I was always curious because none of the things I heard were... bad. I just don't think I'm gay.' She was struggling with this.
'Even if you aren't, there's a really good way to know. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I don't want you, because I do. I'm just saying that if you want me, then you know where I live. If you cut through that alleyway, you'll be right at your house.' I leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth. Her tongue responded briefly, and then she was walking away.
I watched her go and stepped back into my car, driving the short distance home quickly. I walked into my bedroom and slipped out of my dress. I sat heavily on my bed and lay back against the blue pillows. I stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. I licked my lips and tasted the tiniest bit of blood. The cut there had opened slightly. It didn't hurt; it just made me remember. This was a rare time for me. My house. My sanctuary. I didn't spend a whole lot of time here. My thoughts turned to the brunette. Close, but yet so far. I wasn't going to force the issue. I knew girls like her, had been one once. I knew full well she'd come around. She was curious. Besides, the whole playing hard to get thing had been a bit of a turn-on.
I was caressing my breasts before I realized I was doing it. Playfully pulling at the nipples, making them hard and tingly. I slid my fingers under the flimsy fabric of my bra and felt the gentle tightening of skin around my nipples rising into firm points. I undid the front clasp and pulled off my bra, tossing it to the floor. I ran both hands down from my neck, over my breasts and across my belly, slipping my fingers under the waistband of my panties and tracing over the smooth skin below. I stripped off my underwear and crossed the room, feeling my tits bounce free as I walked. I picked up my favorite strawberry moisturizer from my desk and returned to my bed. I flipped the cap off and squeezed the light pink cream down my body. I drew a line from my neck to just above my pussy and squeezed another blob onto each breast. I recapped the tube and put it next to me on the bed.
I ran my hands over my breasts, feeling the cool goo ooze through my fingers. The scent of ripe strawberries washed over me, and I felt my body start to tingle. I kneaded and played with my breasts, sighing gently at the luxury of smoothing the cream over my skin. I rubbed lower, across my belly and down to my pussy, my skin soft there, rapidly absorbing the moisturizer. I ran a hand over my center, juice from my pussy mingling with the cream, making me completely slick. My pussy started to ache. I was worked up by now, no brunette to play with. I dipped a wet finger into my hole, feeling my inner walls soft and hot. My touch made me ache even more, and I slid my other hand down to tease my clit while I finger-fucked myself. I rubbed in little circles around my clit, which was harder by now. I jerked my finger out of my pussy and switched hands, this time putting two fingers in. My hips moved in time with my fingers as my right hand flew over my clit. I gasped and moved faster, a blush of red creeping up across my breasts as I grew hotter and started to pant.
I pushed my fingers in and out of myself, my juice creeping out of me, spreading all around my pussy and onto my thighs. I moaned and lost control, moving fast and hard, pushing myself further and further into pleasure. I cried out as I came, arching my back hard with my fingers buried as deep as they could go inside me. My hand left my clit and gripped the bed sheets as wave after wave of orgasm washed over me. I moaned again and lay flat back down, panting hard. I could feel my pulse throbbing at my center, and I lay there, fingers inside me. I felt better, much better. I rolled onto my side and curled up. My body started to cool down, and I closed my eyes, resting, peaceful. | 3 |
100,418 | Dublin Delights Chapter 8 | 'Oh, my God, this is going to happen. And only three days ago, I never dreamed that I would feel like this toward another guy.' I smiled. 'And three days ago, I wasn't this happy. I guess that I have always felt like this, I just pushed it so far down that I had forgotten. I didn't want to face it. Now I felt a surge of confidence and security. With Aaron at my side, I could face Satan himself and not feel a shred of fear. Throwing my arms up into the air, I fell back onto the bed, my eyes closed. 'I felt so free and powerful, yet surrounded in the most delicate of blankets. I felt so warm and comfortable. This is it, this is what I have always wanted.'
Lost in my thoughts, I never heard Aaron approach the bed. He sat and then stretched next to me. Instinctively, I rolled and captured him into my arms. I could feel his chest against mine, with only cloth separating us. It was exhilarating, just being next to him. I looked into his eyes, the green jungle enveloping me. I closed my eyes and just felt him, felt him next to me. A sudden jolt of electricity shocked me as his lips pressed into mine. The kindling of passion roared into a bonfire. I wanted him... I wanted him now. My lips parted a bit and our tongues met; I didn't think that fire could get any hotter, but it did. That kiss seemed to last for what felt like an eternity, eventually he released, much to my disappointment.
"What about that shower," he said.
"Who cares," truthfully I intended to skip the shower and go right to bed. Not to sleep either.
"I do; we stink."
"Oh, I hadn't noticed." I must have been too enthralled with passion that hygiene didn't play a part. I agreed with him. We did stink. I wrinkled my nose and sat up. Staring at him, I started to break into giggles.
"What is so funny," he asked.
"I don't know, it's just that you said, 'I do; we stink,' I just found that funny all of a sudden." I said between fits of laughter. He soon broke down too, and we were rolling in laughter.
We eventually calmed down. Still on the bed, I started to get off. I slipped right next to him, I kissed him below the ear and whispered, "Are you coming?"
He put on this devilish grin and quickly followed me into the bathroom. The room itself was immaculate. A tub at the far end was big enough to accommodate us perfectly. Not too small, but small enough that we must always have physical contact.
As soon as I was in there, butterflies started to migrate to my stomach. I felt so nervous, no... apprehension might be a better word to use. But why? I wanted this so bad. I wanted to be with him, forever. I wanted to love him, so why did this feel weird? I turned around only to see in him the exact same feeling.
I smiled and said, "You're nervous, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I have never done anything like this before. I was hoping that you had."
"Looks like we are going to have to play this by ear, because I am in the same boat you are." His eyes looked right at me. Just looking at his perfect face gave me all the encouragement I needed.
Stepping up to him, I cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply. My hand dropped to and caressed the small of his back. One of his hands slid down my back, I could feel little shivers. The other he rested on my chest. I felt my heart beat against his palm. As we kissed, his hand moved up around my neck to the back of my head and pulled my head into his. Our lips, our tongues, our souls were intertwined.
My hands grabbed his ass and pulled him as close to me as possible without becoming one. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. Small moans escaped from our lips as we sucked in air. My hands slid back up and grabbed hold of the bottom of his shirt. I didn't want to waste any more time. He got the hint and did the same to me. I pulled his shirt over his head, and I was greeted by the most wonderful sight. 'My God! he is perfect.' His slightly tanned skin was smooth, and he had the development of a good six-pack. His nipples stood erect and were perfectly proportional. Like I said, an Adonis.
He pulled my shirt over my head, but I soon grouped his body once more. This time for the front of his pants. They were soon down to his ankles, and for some odd reason mine were too; I didn't even feel them drop. We both stepped out, and he lunged at me for another barrage of kisses. I stopped him.
"What, is this," he said.
I put a finger up to his lips and mouthed a shhhhhhhh. He stood paralyzed at this odd behavior. I stepped back and turned around. I reached out for the shower knobs and turned them to reach the right temperature. I turned around to see that Aaron had taken off his boxer briefs. I gasped and jumped back, almost landing in the tub. 'My God, that is the most beautiful tool I have ever seen! Well, besides my own, it is the ONLY tool I have ever seen. Nevertheless, it was beautiful.' Like a flash, I jumped out of my boxers and stood there. I eyed him up and down, and he was doing the same. Since we don't take showers in PE, this is the first time I have seen another guy naked.
Feeling courageous, I walked up to him and pulled him close, again our lips met, only this time, there was nothing separating us. We were chest to chest, mouth to mouth, and hard cock to hard cock. I could feel the heat that thing was generating. 'WOW!!!' Reluctantly, I pulled back. I grabbed his wrist and stepped under the warm spray. Instantly, any tensions and worries went away, the fact that soothing water fell down my back and caressed Aaron's face made everything else in the universe disappear.
"Turn around." I told him. He complied. I started to massage his shoulders. I stepped closer. My hands moved down to his shoulder blades. I stepped closer. My hands sank to his sides. I stepped closer, and my hands encircled him. I reached for the soap and lathered up his chest from behind. My soapy hands lathered up his stomach, and they finally sank to his crotch. There my hands skipped his dick and went straight for the balls. I lathered them up real nice by rolling them around in my hands. His head swung back and rested in the crook of my neck. I started to kiss his shoulder and neck as my hands started to stroke his raging hard-on. I pulled one hand away and pinched his left nipple. He let out a gasp. He let out moans, and his breathing became heavier. I knew he was getting close, so I stopped. He quickly turned around and looked at me with want and need. I smiled and put my finger up to his lips and mouthed a shhhhhhhh. I let the water wash the soap off of him as I kissed down his chest. I spent little time on each nipple. I quickly moved down, and finally, his cock was staring me right in the face.
'Oh, God, I don't believe that I am going to do this, please let me do it right. How am I going to fit that six-inch monster into my mouth.' (Alright for your first time, anything seems big) No guts, no glory, I told myself.' With my left hand, I reached up and massaged his balls.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm, don't stop," he told me.
"Not this time." And with that, I took the head of his dick into my mouth. The taste is hard to describe, but there was a definite sign of Dial soap. I swirled my tongue around the head and attacked with full force the small bundle of nerves just under the head. I looked up and saw that he had his head thrown back, and he was holding onto the railings. I continued on in my duties. I took in as much as I could, which wasn't much, my over-active gag reflex took over. I focused, drawing my energy to control. With a few more attempts, I had my nose in his pubic hair. There I took in as much of him as I could before I pulled back. I could feel him getting tense, his body I knew was locking up, joint by joint. His dick expanded in my mouth, I could feel the heat intensify, then the first jets of his juices hit the back of my throat. He must have shot six or seven shots, it was more than I could handle. Some dribbled out of my mouth and fell with splat sounds onto the tub floor. As soon as he finished cumming, he went weak, I caught him as he slid down. He looked up at me.
"Sean, that was the most amazing orgasm I have ever had, it's just... it felt so... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..."
I put a finger to his mouth and mouthed a shhhhhhh. At that moment, it was as if I fell in love all over again. He kissed my finger, then he pushed it aside and pulled me close and kissed me. Our tongues exchanged places, and they began to dance around. I pulled him into me closer. I wanted to be attached to him. My still raging hard-on poking him in the leg. We pulled apart, he grabbed my hand and put my finger up to his mouth. He then submerged it into his hot mouth. It felt so good as he sucked on my finger. 'My finger, never would have thought, that it would get me as horny as I am now.' He reached down and gave my dick a good squeeze, then slowly started to stroke it. His slow movements felt like nothing I have ever experienced.It felt much better than when I jacked myself off. That bonfire of passion grew and grew until it was a great Chicago fire. I needed this bad. He opened his hand and palmed my dick head! He swirled it around. God, it felt awesome! He then pinched that small bundle of nerves under the tip.
"Mmmmmmmmm, Uahhhhhh, Aaron, I'm going to cum."
He bent down in the small tub and engulfed the head of my cock. That did it. I pumped what seemed like a gallon of cum down his throat. Some dribbled out of his mouth. I was in shock. Jitters, shivers, shakes, everything possible was going on in my body right now. Once my orgasm subsided, I fell into post-orgasmic bliss. I went limp. I slid as far as I could in the bathtub, and Aaron was laying on top of me. 'This was interesting,' I thought to myself. He bent down and kissed me, sharing my seed with me.
The water began to run cold, and I was getting a cramp in my neck, but I didn't want to move, having his naked body on top of me, this is all I needed. Much to my disappointment, he got up. (Which by itself was a comical situation, the bathtub being so slippery and all.) Once up, he offered me a hand. I still felt a little weak, but I could stand. By now the water was running ice cold, the rest of the shower went by in seconds. We finished washing under the icicles shot from the shower head. It became unbearable, and we both jumped out the tub. I turned off the water, and Aaron reached for some towels. I turned to see he was still bending over. His pucker sticking right up at me, God, he had a cute ass.
"See anything you like?" he asked.
"The question should be: see anything I DON'T like?"
We laughed and toweled ourselves off. I heard the door shut first. I froze. Aaron turned and looked at me. I put a hand up to my ear. He froze. I guess he heard it too.
"Who's in there?" It was Tim's voice.
I pointed to him then me and mouthed 'you or me'. He pointed at me. 'OK' I mouthed. "It's me, Sean."
"Oh, Do you know where Aaron is?"
"No, I thought he was out in the lobby."
"No, I checked there."
"Did you check in the café area?"
"They have one?"
"Yeah, it is right next to the lobby," I said.
"I'll go look, thanks."
The present danger had passed, I heard the bedroom door close. We finished drying and getting dressed. I opened the bathroom door, and we stepped out.
"Hey guys," Tim said. | 4 |
103,234 | Rules | 'Twas the night before Christmas. Wait, no, wrong story. It was a bland day in March, on the eve of my 16th birthday. I was busy walking down the street in Caspin Point. (Where that is has been lost to time.) Everything was fine, just another walk, headphones in ear, blasting heavy metal up the bejeezus, when I stopped. I stood absolutely still, I have no idea why I did, but I did. I felt the blood rushing to my head, everything in my being was coiled, ready to strike, then, I bolted.
I ran for god knows how long, all the while, I had a point in mind, instinctively, I knew exactly how to get there, I just didn't know where it was, or what it was. All I felt was a sense of growing dread. I pushed myself as hard as I could, I barely even registered the change of scenery from downtown, to the residential areas. I ran and ran, until finally, I was there.
I stopped in front of a house. It was stunningly... bland, white paint, a green lawn, a simple concrete path leading up to the porch where a single white painted door stood with a single welcome mat and a single window with some cheapo curtains drawn shut.
I knocked on the door. My mind was a million places at once. I was poised to attack as soon as the door opened. I heard voices on the other side of the door, a laugh and the sound of the lock being opened on the door. The door opened. Behind the door stood a woman, maybe in her 30s, she wore glasses, and her scraggly hair was in a ponytail. I recognized her. I didn't stop to think about how I recognized her, I shoved her out of the way and ran into the house. I found the stairs, and I ran up. A couple hallways, and a few turns later, I saw a door. It called to me. I ran straight at it, I brought up my shoulder. To this day I have never been able to break down a door again. Believe me, I've tried.
The door fell, I heard a scream, the sound of a chair falling over, a very human-sounding thud. Then nothing. "In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present" -Sir Francis Bacon
I woke. There were lights. Bright ones. My ears were ringing, there was a strange buzzing going on in between my ears. I felt like I had been boiled, had my insides ripped out, then been carefully stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey, only to then been thrown in front of a steamroller at the last minute.
Not good.
Do you remember that time in your early history when you made a really stupid decision and that super stupid decision caused you to roll down a very steep hill? No? Well, I felt like that. Not the rolling down the hill part, the stupid decision part. No, I didn't feel like a stupid decision, I felt like I had just made a stupid decision; elevenfold.
I lay there for what seemed like hours(TM), and I was starting to get really thirsty. The lights seemed to dim little by little until I could see that I was staring at the ceiling in a hospital, which was odd, considering I was laying on my side. The ringing in my ears ebbed until I could hear the normal hospital sounds. Not much better, I thought. And the buzzing, oh the buzzing, if anything that f****** buzzing got worse with time. (And better with thyme.)
There was a ring, and a nurse walked in. She seemed to notice I was awake. She called someone, and then proceeded to check my everything from that machine that stands by your bed. (Hell if I know what it's called.) and walked away. A few minutes later, the doctor walked in. He was a man in his mid-40s, and walked with a limp. (His name wasn't House, unfortunately.) He checked his charts.
It was about 15 minutes before he spoke. His voice was exactly what you'd expect a doctor to sound like, (smooth yet scratchy voice). He said, "I see you're awake."
Yeah. No shit.
--- End Chapter 1 --- | 4 |
103,520 | BAM WHAM THANK YOU MA'AM | 'No, never,' I replied laughing.
'It is the truth,' she said seriously.
'Okay, tell me,' I said.
'My father worked as a night watchman in the local high school. My mother died when I was only three. I was the only child of my parents. Therefore, there was no one to guide me. As my father slept during the day, I spent most of my time in the orchard of the school. One day, when I got up after pissing, I saw two boys watching me,' Shanti started to tell her story.
'Kanchi, what were you doing squatting on the ground?' they asked.
'Can't you see I was pissing?' I replied, pointing to the puddle.
They didn't believe me. One thing led to another. The boys persuaded me to lie down and show them my pee hole. One of the boys was examining my pee hole when suddenly I felt excruciating pain and became unconscious. When I came to, I found the second boy on top of me, and his bottoms were moving up and down. I still felt groggy. Suddenly, I felt something warm being injected inside me, and the boys changed places.
This story seemed familiar, but still, I asked, 'If they were hurting you, then why didn't you shout for help?' I said.
'I thought of it, but what the boy was doing felt nice, and I waited to see what happened. Before I knew, the boy on top of me got off and made place for his friend. By the time the second boy spurted something warm inside me, I had had my first orgasm. I had never felt such pleasurable sensation before.'
Afterwards, they helped me to my feet. 'Kanchi, come tomorrow, we'll play the same game again,' they said and went off.
I nodded but did not go to the orchard for two or three days because my choot was swollen and hurting. On the fourth day, I felt the desire to feel the wonderful sensation again. I went to the orchard, and the boys were there. We played the same game again. I went there daily, but after six months, they stopped coming.
'Sir, believe it or not, this is how I lost my cherry before I knew I had one,' Shanti said.
'I believe you. Didn't the boys ask you your name?' I asked.
'No, sir. They didn't ask. I didn't tell them because I liked it when they called me Kanchi,' she replied.
'Do you know their names?' I asked.
'I never asked. They were always in a hurry. They came, fucked me, and left. There was little or no conversation,' Shanti replied.
'Will you be able to recognize them?' I asked.
'No, sir. It happened so long ago,' Shanti replied.
'When did you find out that you had lost your cherry?' I asked.
'I found out about a year later. One afternoon, I was waiting for Selma, my best friend, in the orchard...'Then I went on long leave to Nepal. When I returned after two months, they fought over me and everything came out in the open. The result was that I was sacked. Then I got my present job.
'Has anyone other than Mac fucked you?' I asked.
'No, only Mac sir. Many others have tried but I did not yield. It is a nice, comfortable job, and I didn't want the earlier situation to reoccur,' Shanti replied.
'Kisi ne teri gaand maari hai (Has any of them fucked you in the ass hole)?' I asked.
'Oh yes,' she said.
'Didn't the two boys take your ass hole cherry?' I asked.
'No, sir. My husband took my ass hole cherry. He loved my butt and fucked it regularly. After him, the youngest of the three brothers I told you about used to fuck me in my ass hole,' she replied.
'Theek hai, ab main teri gaand marunga (Fine, now I'll fuck you in your ass hole),' I said.
'If you want to fuck my ass hole, do so by all means, but be gentle, your cock is too big,' she said, getting into the ass fuck position. I applied oil on her puckered hole and pushed my whole cock into her butt in one stroke.
'AAAAAAYYYYYYYIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE,' she screamed, 'Gawd, sir, it hurts.' When I had finished fucking her ass hole, I fucked her one more time in her cunt.
Then we dressed. 'Sir, did my choot please you?' she asked.
'Very much,' I replied, 'come again next week, same place same time.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,' she said and, after wishing me good night, left.
When I got home, I was told that Minu had called. I returned her call. 'Babu, I want to meet you,' she said.
'Why not? Would tomorrow evening at six p.m. suit you?' I asked.
'No, can't you meet me earlier,' she asked.
'If you want, I can come now?' I said.
'That will be great. We'll meet in half an hour at the West gate of the City Park,' she said.
She was waiting when I reached the West gate. 'What the hell do you think you are doing?' she asked before I could greet her.
'Me! I am doing nothing,' I replied, 'what happened?'
'You know what happened. The whole school is rife with the rumor that a girl in a senior class is sleeping with her brother,' she said.
'So? You think you are the only horny girl in the world to seduce your brother? There are probably several girls in your class who might be fucking their brothers. Why brothers only, they might have seduced their fathers,' I said glibly, 'why stop there? There are other male members like uncles, cousins…..'
'AAWW, STOP IT,' Minu yelled, 'I know you are behind this rumor……. What the hell do you want from me?'
'You know what I want? I want to fuck your beautiful choot. Spend a whole afternoon naked in your arms,' I said, smiling.
'NEVER,' she fumed. She then turned on her heels and rushed off.
On Saturday, I saw Shanti's videotape and edited it to suit my purpose.
In the evening, when the Adams arrived, they were accompanied by a very pretty girl of about fourteen years of age.
'Mary, won't you introduce us to this pretty young lady?' abbu said.
'Her name is Suzy. She is our new maid,' Mary said, 'Abbu, please have patience. I'll explain later. Joey, go call Bela and the other maids.'
'Yes, mom,' Joey replied, grinning broadly.
'Joey, no hanky panky, when I say call them, I mean now,' Mary said.
The grin on Joey's face faded, and he said, grimly, 'Yes, mom.'
'Suzy, would you like to live in this big house?' Mary asked.
'Oh yes, mom. It is so big and so beautiful,' Suzy replied.
'You understand that a big house means a lot of work,' Mary said.
'I am not afraid of hard work,' Suzy said.
Just then, the three maids entered the room, followed by Joey. The maids were naked. 'Look, mom, they are naked,' Suzy giggled.
'Yes, child,' Mary said, 'If you work here, then you must also take your clothes off.'
'I don't mind,' Suzy said, 'Mom, shall I undress now?'
'Not now, my dear, later,' Mary said, 'Bela, from today, Suzy will work here like you three. Take her with you. Mehru will tell her duties later. You understand?'
'Yes, ma'am, perfectly,' Bela said, placing a finger on her lips.
'Good girl,' Mary said.
'Come, Suzy,' Bela said and led her out of the room.
'Abbu, I am sorry if I was rude to you earlier,' Mary said, apologizing.
'Pretty lady, I don't mind as long as you do your apologizing with your cunt?' abbu said, laughing.
'Not at all, it will be my pleasure,' Mary replied, starting to peel off her clothes.
'Hey, stop! First, tell us where did you get her from?' I asked.
'Believe it or not, I got her from the church,' Mary giggled.
'Tell him also why is she here,' John said.
'Of course. Babu, you gave me so much pleasure on the first night that I wanted to give you a present. Suzy is your Christmas present,' Mary said.
'Thank you very much, Mary, I appreciate it. I hope you give many such presents in the future,' I chuckled, embracing her.
'You got her from the church? I didn't know they had started dealing in young virgins,' Uncle Mohan said.
'Of course not, silly. It is a long story,' Mary said.
'It is very interesting, you should hear it,' John said.
'Let us help ourselves to a drink, then you can tell the story,' ammi said.
After we had settled down, Mary started her tale, 'Couple of weeks after we shifted here, I went to the church. I thought Father Brown's face was familiar, but I couldn't place him. On a later occasion, I saw Suzy leaving his study. Her face was flushed, and she was wiping her mouth with her sleeve. I did not pay much attention to it then.'
'On Monday, I remembered who he was. Janet, my best friend, had committed suicide because of him, and he was doing the same thing with Suzy. I took her last letter, in which she had pointed the finger at him, and, shoving it in my purse, I drove to the church. I was very angry. I planned to expose him. This man had to be taught a lesson. When I reached the church, I was told that he was in his study.'
'So you are still up to your old tricks,' I said, bursting into his study without knocking.
'Ah, Mrs. Adams, come in,' he said politely, 'what "old tricks" are you referring to?'
'You know what I mean,' I said, 'I saw Suzy leaving your study the other day.'
'Oh Yes, dear Suzy comes to my study quite often,' Father Brown said.
'For drinking the "Holy Water" from your private dispenser, no doubt,' I said sarcastically.
'I don't understand, please don't speak in riddles, Mrs. Adams,' he replied.
'Twenty years ago, were you posted in Agarwal?' I asked.
'Yes, but…' he replied.
'Do you remember Janet, a gentle soul? Who wouldn't harm an ant even if it bit her?' I said, interrupting him.
'What has…,' he said.
'Please, Father, let me tell you a story,' I said, cutting him off again, 'In a small town once lived a very religious family. They believed that after God, the priest is the cat's whiskers. He can do anything. They had a daughter, Janet. When Janet was thirteen, she got sick. They had her treated, but it did not help, so as a last resort, they asked their priest for help. The priest took the thirteen-year-old under his care. Janet started to visit the church three times a week.'
'One day, the priest told her she needed to drink "Holy Water" to cleanse her soul. Poor Janet started to suck his cock and swallow his cum. Three months later, to clean her lower half of her body, he took her cherry and started pouring "Holy Water" into her lower mouth.'
'She looked healthier. Her cheeks glowed, and she and her parents were happy. I was her best friend. She told me everything. I told her to break off with him, as this would only bring grief to her. She didn't listen. By that time, she was hooked on fucking.'
'Then the inevitable happened. She got pregnant. The priest refused to help her. All he said was to have an abortion. She wouldn't do that because of her belief. At last, she got so frustrated that she hung herself.'
'Do you know who the priest was? You, Father Brown, you were the priest. You were responsible for my best friend's death, and I'll see to it that you are punished,' I said.
'Who will believe you? Janet is dead, it'll be your word against mine,' he replied.
'No, Father, Janet is not dead,' I said, triumphantly pulling out the letter from my purse, 'her body may not be here, but her written word is. Here, in this letter to me, written a few hours before she took the ultimate step. In this letter, she has described everything in great detail.'
'If the letter is genuine, then why have you waited for twenty years before producing it,' Father Brown asked.
'The letter is genuine enough to send you to jail,' I said, 'Luckily for you, it was received when I was at Janet's funeral. When I got back, my mummy said that a letter had arrived for me, and she had placed it in the book I was reading. Unfortunately, I assumed that it was from Amrit, a boy in my class, who was pestering me to go out with him. I was so grief-stricken that I was in no mood to read his drivel. Later, I couldn't find it. Five years later, when Martha was getting married, I found it. I was shocked at its content.'
'If the letter is really genuine, you should have told the world then. Why now?' Father Brown said.
'I wanted to expose you, but Martha said that they will dig her up. Why disturb her? Janet's parents had also reconciled themselves to their loss. I didn't want to open old wounds. You had been shifted to another city, and I hoped you had learned your lesson,' I said, 'why now? Because the other day, I saw Suzy leave your study, her face was flushed, and she was wiping her mouth with her sleeve. I didn't attach any sinister meaning to it. Today, I placed you. I also realized what Suzy had been doing. You felt no remorse. I didn't want Suzy to go the same way as Janet. So I came here to expose you.'
'What can a twenty-year-old letter do?' he said.
'I'll find out where Janet's parents are now and send it to them. They will definitely report you to the Church.'I am sure you did not stop "cleansing" girls in the last two decades. There will be lots of publicity, and some of the girls who have suffered silently at your hands may find enough courage to speak up against you,' I said.
'Mrs. Adams, is it necessary to dig up the past? Maybe we can come to an understanding. Suzy...' he said.
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Suzy. While he talked to Suzy, I saw Saira in her, a young virgin. I also recalled Seema telling me that she had presented her to Babu for his graduation. Suddenly, I knew what I wanted. I wanted Suzy. I cared two hoots whether Father Brown went to jail or not. Someday, God would punish him.
Coming back, Father Brown said, 'I was saying... is it necessary to dig up the past? Can't we both come to an understanding?'
I perceived a slight movement below and looked down. I was shocked at what I saw. Father Brown, while talking to Suzy, had opened his fly. His tool was sticking out in all its glory and jerking involuntarily. It was probably this movement that had caught my eye.
It was not an ordinary cock. It was huge. It was a tad bigger than Babu's. The juices in my cunt started to flow. My panties became soaked in no time. For a moment, I forgot about Suzy and wanted to impale myself on this magnificent specimen of manhood and fuck it till cum oozed out of my nose and ears.
Somehow, I managed to control myself. 'Put it away, you horny man. When I get home, my husband will fuck me silly,' I laughed.
'What a pity? You are very beautiful. I would have loved.....' he said.
'Tell me about Suzy,' I said, interrupting him.
'Mrs. Adams, don't decide in haste. Many women come to me for...ummm...solace, and none has been disappointed,' he said.
'I don't doubt your word, but as far as I am concerned, the answer is no, definitely NO,' I laughed, 'now tell me about Suzy.'
'All right,' he sighed, putting away the biggest cock I have ever seen, 'Suzy is an orphan. She lost her entire family in a car crash on her birthday. That is the reason she is not fully there.'
'Are you sure?' I asked.
'She is very bright, but sometimes she acts a bit strangely,' he said.
'All right, continue,' I said.
'For six months, she was shuttled from one relative to another. No one wanted her. Three months back, they brought her here with the request to find work and a good home for her.'
'What sort of work can she do?' I asked.
'She can do household chores or any other similar job. I guess, she could even look after a small child,' he said.
'It should not have been difficult to find her a job?' I said.
'To tell you the truth, I didn't try too hard for obvious reasons,' he smiled.
'Naturally,' I said sarcastically, 'Since when is she drinking the "Holy Water"?'
'She started fifteen days after she came here,' he said.
'Have you also....' I said, leaving the sentence unfinished.
'No, I haven't. She is still a virgin. I was saving her cherry for the New Year's Eve. I had planned to ring in the New Year with her cherry,' he said.
'Okay, I'll take Suzy in lieu of keeping quiet,' I said.
'You can take her in the New Year,' he said.
'No, Father, I mean now,' I laughed.
'After two months...now.... After a week... now.... Okay, take her tomorrow,' he said finally.
He didn't give up easily. We both wanted Suzy's cherry.
'No, now, I said, like in right away. Call her and tell her,' I said.
'You must love your husband a lot to provide him with a virgin to deflower,' he said.
'That is none of your business,' I said, laughing.
'You will take the girl and give me the letter?' he asked.
'No, the deal is, I'll take Suzy and keep the letter also. Only as a precaution against you in case you tried any monkey business. I promise to keep quiet and to bury the letter deep in my trunk where it lay till now. Take it or leave it,' I said with finality.
'You think that is fair?' he asked.
'You think making a young girl drink your cum is fair? You think deflowering them is fair? Yes... then what I have proposed is also fair,' I said, 'anyway, I don't require the wretched letter. All I have to do is persuade Suzy to tell the congregation what you have been up to. Then, Father Brown, even God won't be able to help you.'
'You are a tough bargainer,' he laughed and called Suzy.
'Suzy, this is Mrs. Adams. She has offered you her home. You will work as a maid in exchange,' he said.
'Suzy, the work is light, and you will be like a member of the family. You'll have a family again.'
'Yes, ma'am,' Suzy said.
'Call me mom like my children do, and my husband dad. You'll have two sisters, Rose and Sara, and a brother, Joey. He is a rascal, but you'll get along with him,' I chuckled.
'Yes ma'am, oh sorry, mom,' Suzy smiled.
'Suzy, go pack your things. Mrs. Adams would like to take you now,' Father Brown said.
'Father, I have one request,' I said after Suzy had gone to pack, 'Fuck as many girls or women you like, but don't make an unmarried girl pregnant.'
'Don't worry,' he laughed, 'after the episode with Janet, I got a vasectomy done.'
As we were leaving, Suzy said, 'Father, what about my New Year present you promised?'
'Mrs. Adams will give you one, otherwise come to the church and collect it,' he said.
'What is this about a present?' I asked.
'It is nothing. I meant to give her my cock,' he whispered.
'What do you mean it is nothing? It is huge,' I whispered back.
'Let me know if I can be of any service,' he said, smiling.
'I definitely will,' I giggled, slipping the car into gear.
When we were on our way, I assured Suzy that she would be happy living with us. Her dad, sisters, and brother will love her. 'I am sure I'll be very happy,' she said politely.
'Suzy, tell me something about your parents and yourself,' I said.
'My father was a foreman in the big car factory, and mummy was a waitress in their canteen. My daddy loved me. He was the best daddy in the world. I loved him so much,' she said and started to cry.
'I am sure he was. Take your time, I am in no hurry,' I said gently.
'No, it is all right,' she said, wiping her tears, 'Daddy used to say... "Doll," he always called me Doll, "we will celebrate your fourteenth birthday in grand style. We'll drive down to a luxury hotel and check in, in their best suite."'
'Won't that be very expensive?' I would say.
'Expensive? Nothing is too expensive for my Doll. We'll order champagne and caviar and...and...,' she said, bursting out in tears. She was so overwhelmed with grief that she couldn't continue. For a while, we drove in silence.
'Suzy, since when are you drinking the "Holy Water"?' I asked.
'You know,' she whispered.
'Of course, I have known Father Brown now for over two decades,' I laughed.
'D...Did you also suck his cock?' She said.
'The girl knows what she was doing,' I thought.
'No, I didn't, but I knew a girl of your age who did,' I replied, 'when did you realize you were sucking his cock?'
'From the very beginning, but I didn't let on,' she giggled, 'you see, on my twelfth birthday, my mummy taught me how to give daddy and Paul, my elder brother, a blowjob. Daddy had promised me that he would deflower me on my fourteenth birthday.'
I was shocked. Had I saddled myself with a fucked cunt?
'Did he?' I asked, crossing my fingers.
'No, he didn't get a chance,' she said. I breathed a sigh of relief.
'Why, what happened?' I said.
'On my fourteenth birthday, daddy, mummy, and Paul were coming to pick me up from school. We were to go to a luxury hotel, and after checking in, in their best suite, order champagne and caviar. While Paul opened the bottle of champagne, daddy would have opened my cunt. Then we four would have fucked, fucked and fucked the whole weekend. But before all this could happen, God struck, and in one stroke wiped out my whole family,' she said and fell silent.
'Suzy, what was this about a present?' I asked. I had to be sure what Father Brown had told me was the truth and Suzy was still a virgin.
'I don't rightly know, but my guess is that Father Brown would have deflowered me on New Year's Eve,' she replied.
'Are you a virgin?' I asked.
'Absolutely,' she replied.
'Suzy, why didn't your relatives accept you?' I asked.
'They were puritans. They didn't like the way I was brought up. One Uncle didn't like me sleeping in the raw, another objected to my taking a bath with my female cousin of my age, and one aunt was scared because her husband was taking too much interest in me. The list goes on and on. One day, they decided to leave me in the church. They did not care that I had to suck Father Brown's cock and wait patiently to be deflowered on New Year's Eve,' she said, sobbing quietly.
'I thought you were looking forward to be fucked,' I asked.
'Of course, I was. I cried because I felt so unwanted, so rejected,' she said.
'Darling, I love you,' I said, pressing her hand.
When we got home, I introduced her to the family. Joey was the one who was most excited.
'Rose, Sara, please help Suzy bring up her luggage,' I said.
When the three had left, Joey said, bubbling with excitement, 'Where will she sleep? There is a bed empty in my room. She can sleep there.'
'You rascal, so that you can pop her cherry,' I said.
'The thought had crossed my mind,' Joey grinned.
'Listen, you two,' I said, wagging my forefinger at John and Joey, 'don't you dare stick your cock in her choot, not even your little finger. So from now on, keep your pants on, open your fly only to piss, otherwise keep the zip tightly closed and your hands in your pocket. She is a virgin, and I want that she remains a virgin. Understood?'
'Agar hum isse chod nahin sakte tau aap isse kyon laayi hain? (If we can't fuck her, then why have you brought her),' Joey said, making a face.
'Good question, and you know that we don't need a maid,' John said.
'I have brought her for Babu. I am planning to present her to him.'He has given me and the girls so much pleasure that I would like to reciprocate,' I said, 'John, I hope you don't mind?'
'No problem,' John replied sportingly, 'Joey, let Babu deflower her then we'll fuck her silly.'
'When do you plan to present her to Babu?' Joey asked.
'I was thinking of Christmas,' I replied.
'What! For three months we'll have to see her around before we can plug her,' Joey groaned.
'Joey, three months is not a long period. Whenever you want to fuck, then your sisters are there. If you like, you can fuck me also. On weekends, we spend with the Khans at their house. There you have no dearth of cunts,' I explained.
'Okay, mom, I'll try and control myself,' Joey said.
I trusted them, but with horny Suzy, eager to lose her cherry, any man could lose control. So I kept an eye on her. John slept in Joey's room, and I made Suzy sleep in John's bed. When I went out, I took her with me. In the apartment, I made sure never to leave her alone for too long.
One day I had to go out and couldn't take Suzy with me. When I came back, I saw Suzy giving Joey a blowjob. Although what they were doing was quite harmless from my point of view, in the heat of passion, it could go out of control, and Suzy would lose her cherry.
'What may I ask is going on here?' I said.
Joey, tucking his cock in his pants hastily, slid out of the room, leaving Suzy to face the music. Suzy was unfazed. She stood up slowly and said, 'Mom, you must show Joey to the doctor. I have sucked his cock for nearly an hour or so. He has had several orgasms, but he did not ejaculate even once. His cock is absolutely dry.'
I laughed, 'Darling, Joey is still young. Give him time, he will spurt more cum than you can swallow. Tell me, who started this?'
'I don't know for sure. We were sitting in the living room watching an adult movie, which Joey had brought. There was a scene where the heroine sucks the hero's cock.
'Suzy, have you ever done this before?' Joey asked me, pointing to the screen.
'Of course I have. The other day I sucked dad's cock. His cum is very tasty, thick and creamy,' I replied.
'Why don't you suck my cock and see if "tasty cum" runs in the family,' Joey said, opening his fly.
'Whaaat! You sucked dad's cock? Did he ask you to?' I asked.
'No, he didn't,' Suzy replied, 'Today morning, when I went into Joey's room, dad was sleeping. His cock was standing. I decided to give him relief and started to suck it. Dad opened his eyes and tried to stop me, but I sucked on till he shot his cum in my mouth.'
That night I gave the matter a lot of thought. I came to the conclusion that keeping Suzy here is dangerous. Today it was cock sucking, tomorrow it could easily be fucking. There was not only danger from John and Joey but also from other men in the building. One word from them, and Suzy would spread her legs. The best would be to present her to Babu at the first opportunity. Today is the first opportunity.
'Babu, for the pleasures you have given my family and me, I am presenting Suzy to you. You can deflower her when you please,' Mary said formally. | 3 |
103,543 | BAM WHAM THANK YOU MA'AM | 'Thank you, Mary. I am grateful,' I said, 'I don't remember giving John pleasure, but I am willing, eh John?'
'Keep away from me,' John laughed, 'unless you want to suck my cock.'
'Ladies, Suzy has one more quality other than being a virgin. She has a long, thin, and pointed tongue. Need I say more?' she announced.
'How do you know? Did she eat your pussy?' Seema asked.
'No, but she offered to eat me out on the first night. She told me that her mother always said that she had a tongue of gold. I made her show me. Her mother was right,' Mary clarified.
'Don't worry, we'll all try her out tomorrow,' Seema laughed.
'Why tomorrow? I don't understand,' Mary said, bewildered.
'Let me explain,' Seema said, 'When a virgin is initiated in our group, then the men folk have their fun on the first evening, but the following morning belongs to us ladies. It is fun. You'll experience it for yourself tomorrow.'
'Nira, go tell Bela and others to escort Suzy into the room,' ammi said.
Bela, Paro, and Saira brought Suzy into the room. Bela and party were naked, but Suzy had her clothes on.
'Suzy, I have good news for you,' Mary said, 'You will receive your New Year's present tonight.'
'Oh, mom, you mean I am going to lose my virginity tonight?' Suzy asked, blushing sweetly.
'Yes, my dear, Babu will deflower you,' Mary said, 'Are you ready?'
'Yeah, mom, I am ready,' Suzy replied excitedly.
'All right, let's all undress and watch Babu pop Suzy's cherry,' ammi said, 'Paro, you look after the drinks, Saira will serve the snacks, and Bela, you help Suzy undress.'
When we were all naked, then Suzy said, staring at my cock, 'Mom, Bhaiya's cock is nice and big, like Father Brown's cock, isn't it?'
'Yes, dear,' Mary said, 'now lie down on the bed.'
She lay down with her legs wide apart and in the air. 'She knows the position,' I thought, getting on top of her and rubbing my cock up and down between her lower lips.
'Fuck me, bhaiya, fuck me,' she moaned impatiently.
'Isse apni choot phardwane ki bahut jaldi hai (She seems to be in a hurry to lose her cherry),' I heard Paro whisper to Saira.
'Lakin jab bhaiya ka lamba aur mota laurda isski kori bur ko phardega, tau chillaegi, chord do mujhe, chord do, maine nahin chudwana (But when bhaiya's long and thick cock deflowers her, then she will shout, let me go, let me go, I don't want to be fucked),' I heard Saira reply.
'Shh, not so loud, someone may hear you,' Paro cautioned Saira.
I smiled and, gathering Suzy firmly in my arms, gave a mighty push. 'AAAAAAYYYYYIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE,' Suzy screeched, as my cock tore through her hymen and embedded itself in her cunt. I pulled back and pushed forward till I was fully inside her love hole.
'BHAIYA, PLEASE MUJHE CHORD DO, MAINE NAHIN CHUDWANA (BHAIYA, PLEASE LET ME GO, I DON'T WANT TO BE FUCKED),' she yelled.
I continued to move my cock in and out of her choot, and she kept begging me to let her go. Her cunt was very tight, but not as tight as Saira's. Within five minutes, I was on short strokes, and two minutes later, I poured my cum inside her cunt. As soon as I withdrew my flaccid cock from her fuck hole, John was ready to penetrate her cunt.
'NOOO, DAAAD, DON'T DO IT,' she pleaded, as John penetrated her choot.
'Please, dad, it hurts,' she sobbed.
'Don't worry, child, soon you will feel pleasure,' Mary said, consoling her.
'Dad, please don't fuck me,' she sobbed.
John kept fucking her, and she continued to beg and cry. Suddenly, she was silent. Except for the creaking of the bed, there was no sound.
Then Suzy moaned, 'Oh, dad.'
'Suzy, it feels nice, doesn't it?' Mary asked.
'Yeah, mom, it feels heavenly,' she moaned.
John continued to hump her. Soon, her hips started to move in rhythm with the in-and-out strokes. Her body arched. 'FUCK ME, DAD, FUCK ME. HARDER, DAD, HARDER. Y...HES, Y...HES. OH GAAWWD, I AM NEARLY THERE. Y...HES, OH OHHHH Y...HESSSSSSSSSS,' she screamed and fell back on the bed, gasping for breath.
John was not ready to cum yet. He continued to fuck her till, with a grunt, he released his load into her waiting cunt. In the meanwhile, Suzy was racing towards her second orgasm. It took a few minutes for John to make place for abbu.
'HURRY, HURRY,' she shouted impatiently. By the time abbu, Uncle Mohan, and Joey had finished fucking her, she had come several times.
'How was it?' Mary asked, smiling, when Joey had finished humping her.
'Oh, mom, it was fantastic,' Suzy said, jumping off the bed, with cum streaked with the blood of her shattered virginity running down her legs and embracing Mary, 'At last, I am a complete woman now.'
'Abhi nahin, pahele hum teri gaand maarainge, tab tu poori aurat banegi (Not yet, first we will fuck you in your ass hole, then only you'll become a complete woman),' Uncle Mohan said, stroking his cock.
'Mom, k...k...kya yeh meri gaand bhi maarainge? (Mom, a...a...are they going to fuck me in the ass hole?)' Suzy stammered.
'Of course, the men have fucked all the ladies present in their ass holes,' Mary said.
'Nahin, main apni gaand nahin marwauingi (No, I am not going to let you fuck my ass hole),' Suzy said.
'Tu kissi se poonch le. Bela, Paro aur Saira sab ne apni gaand marwayi hai. Yahan tak ki hum teenon ki bhi gaand inhone maari hai (You can ask anyone. Bela, Paro, and Saira all of them have been fucked in their ass hole. They have fucked us three in our ass holes also),' Mary said, 'Be a good girl and get on the bed on all fours.'
'You all can do what you want, but I'll never let anyone touch my ass hole. It will pain like hell,' Suzy said, stubbornly.
'SUZY! GET ON THE BED AS I SAY,' Mary shouted at Suzy.
'NO, I WILL NOT,' Suzy shouted back.
'Mary, let me try. I have a very convincing argument. She can't refuse it,' ammi said.
'Okay, I give up. She is very stubborn,' Mary said.
'Girls, grab her and put her in gaand fuck position,' ammi said, quietly. All the three maids moved as one towards Suzy.
'NO! NOOOOOOOO,' Suzy shouted, backing off when she realized what is about to happen. The three grabbed her.
'EEEEEKKKKKK,' Suzy screamed, 'LET ME GO.'
They dragged her to the bed and put her in the gaand fuck position.
Saira sat on her knees, facing Bela and Paro, with her bum resting lightly on Suzy's shoulders so that Suzy's face was pressed against the bed. Paro and Bela caught her ankles, spreading them, pushed her bent knees under Suzy's body so that her ass was high up in the air.
'Ammi, she is in gaand fuck position,' Bela panted.
'Mary, prepare her ass hole,' ammi said. Mary spread her ass cheeks and started to apply oil.
'Please, mom, let me go,' Suzy pleaded, crying. Mary continued with her task.
'Her ass hole is ready,' Mary announced.
'John, take her ass hole cherry,' ammi ordered.
'With pleasure,' John grinned, placing his erect tool on Suzy's rear entrance.
'DAD, DON'T DO IT. IT WILL HURT,' Suzy yelled.
'Not much, my dear, just a little,' John said, pushing his cock half inside her back hole with one hard shove.
'AAAAAAAAYYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE,' Suzy screamed, beating her fists on the bed. John pulled out his cock till only its head was in and then pushed back till the full length of his cock disappeared inside Suzy's gaand.
'DAD, YOU ARE HURTING ME,' Suzy shouted.
'Don't make so much noise. The cock is already inside you,' ammi said.
'DAD, PLEAmpffff,' Suzy said. Saira had shifted her bum slightly backwards so that Suzy's mouth was pressed against the bed.
'Is this okay?' Saira asked ammi.
'Good girl,' Ammi smiled.
John continued to fuck her ass hole. 'Sir, you can hold on to my tits if you like,' Saira suggested.
John grabbed her tits and kept shoving. Saira bent forward and glued her lips to John's lips. After a few minutes, John came with a loud grunt.
As abbu was about to push his erection inside Suzy's back door, ammi said, 'Girls, you can let her go now. She has learnt that it does not pay to say no.'
Bela and Paro released Suzy, but Saira kept sitting on her perch.
'Saira, get off her,' Rani said. 'It's all right,' Saira replied, 'I'm quite comfortable.'
'You are comfortable, but the weight of your boobs will kill Suzy,' Sara said.
'Boohoo, everyone is jealous of my big boobs,' Saira said, rubbing her eyes, pretending to cry.
'Let them be jealous, but I love your big boobs,' I said, lifting her and kissing her tits.
I seated her, facing me, on my lap to suck her nipples. Saira was not one to miss an opportunity. She immediately tried to insert my erect cock in her choot.
'Hey, what do you think you are doing?' I laughed.
'Bhaiya, please, ander dalne do (Bhaiya, please, let me put it inside),' she begged.'Okay, but don't make me cum. I've yet to fuck Suzy's asshole,' I said.
While I watched abbu then Joey fuck Suzy in her asshole, Saira squirmed about on my lap. When Joey had withdrawn his cock from Suzy's rear, I said to Saira, 'Saira darling, get off. Suzy's asshole beckons.'
'Just a minute,' Saira said, gluing her lips to mine and jumping up and down on my cock several times.
'AAHHHHH,' she moaned and drowned my cock in her love juices.
'Please, bhaiya, penetrate me gently. Your cock is very big,' Suzy pleaded.
'Don't worry, my cock is slippery with Saira's cum, so it will slip in before you even notice it,' I said, pushing my cock into her asshole.
'OOWWWAAAAA,' Suzy groaned.
After I had finished, Mary asked, 'You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?'
'Yes, mom, it was nice,' Suzy said, rubbing her bum.
Then we fucked all the ladies in different positions.
'Let father and son double-fuck Suzy and Paro. We'll take Suzy, and you can take Paro,' Joey said to me.
'No double penetration for Paro. She is four months pregnant,' ammi intervened, 'Take Bela or Saira till you can. Their period is also late, and soon you'll have to double-fuck one of us ladies.'
'How do you know that they are pregnant?' I asked ammi.
'Simple. I keep the stock of tampons. If someone doesn't ask for them, I ask her,' ammi laughed.
We enjoyed ourselves deep into the night, then we all went to sleep.
In the morning, we all assembled for breakfast in our birthday suit and sat around the table with a glass top.
'Bela, have you finished serving?' Ammi asked.
'Yes, ammi,' Bela replied.
'Then what are you waiting for? Do your stuff,' ammi said.
All four maids crawled under the table and started sucking our cocks.
'What about me? Who will suck my cock?' Joey wailed on being left out.
'Don't worry, son,' Mary said, 'Come to me, and I'll give you a blowjob.'
'Joey, would you prefer your mother to suck you off, or would you like to join the ladies immediately after breakfast? We will be eleven of us,' ammi said.
'Eleven? I think I'll wait,' Joey said, grinning.
That night when the Adam family was leaving, I asked Joey, 'How was it with the ladies?'
'As ammi had said, there were eleven of them. Do you know what that means? Thirty-three holes, eleven choot holes, eleven assholes, and eleven mouths to choose from,' Joey said.
'And how many did you fuck?' I asked.
'Every one of them,' Joey replied proudly.
'What! You mean you had thirty-three orgasms in one morning?' I asked incredulously.
'Nooo, man, I had five orgasms only, but I pumped all the thirty-three holes,' Joey replied, grinning.'No, I won't undress. You can fuck me with my clothes on,' she said, lifting her skirt and moving towards the bed, 'or forget about it.'
'It is not about just one fuck. The deal was that you would spend the whole afternoon with me,' I said.
'Okay, so it was for the whole afternoon, but did the deal say that I have to undress?' she said.
'I thought when we are together, we might as well enjoy ourselves,' I said.
'Enjoy ourselves?' she laughed, sarcastically, 'How can I enjoy myself when you blackmailed me into coming here?'
I had heard enough. 'Minu, if you are not naked in two minutes, then I'll tear the clothes from your body,' I said in a menacing tone, 'then you'll have one more thing to explain other than your incestuous relationship with your brother, Jas.'
She muttered and complained under her breath, but she was naked in one minute and forty-three seconds flat.
'Good girl, now lie down,' I said, leading her to the bed, 'I'll join you soon.'
She looked very pretty lying on the bed. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her long black hair lay on either side of her head. She had red, sensuous lips. Her breasts had really grown big but were firm as rock, with erect dark nipples pointing towards the ceiling. There was no hair on her vagina. Apparently, Jas also liked bald cunts. Her clitoris was erect and peeping out from between the lower lips.
I sat down next to her and stroked her bald vagina. 'Did you shave your vagina today?' I asked, caressing the smooth skin.
'It is none of your business. Just fuck me and satisfy your lust,' she said rudely.
Her rudeness angered me. I caught her ankles roughly and separated her legs. Then, bending them at the knees, I pressed them on her breasts and said, 'Hold them like this,' and started to lick her pussy.
'No, Babu, don't. It's dir...oh... OH...OHHHHHH,' she moaned.
I moved my tongue up and down between her vaginal lips for a few minutes. Then I took her swollen clitoris between my teeth and lightly sucked on it.
'OH BABU, IT FEELS SO NICE,' she moaned. I sucked her clitoris.
'OH BABU,' she moaned, pressing my head to her vagina with her hands. I continued to lick her vagina as fast as I could. Then I stuck my tongue in her vagina and started to tongue-fuck her.
'AAGGGRRR,' she screeched. Her hips moved up and down at a feverish pace. Soon her body arched, and she yelled, 'STOP, BABU, STOP. I AM ABOUT TO CUM.'
I did not stop. Instead, I tongue-fucked her faster. Suddenly, she screamed, 'OH MY GOD, OHH MY GOD, I AM COMING,' releasing a stream of her love juices in my mouth.
I did not stop but continued to tongue-fuck her. She came two more times. When she came for the third time, she gasped, 'Babu, Babu, fuck me, fuck me now.'
I pulled myself on top of her and placed her legs over my shoulders. I positioned my cock at the entrance of her tube of pleasure and, taking a firm grip of her, rammed my cock into her vagina.
'YEEEOOOWWWWW,' she screamed as my cock entered her well-fucked vagina, 'GOD, THAT HURT.'
I fucked her slowly. I kept varying the length and the speed of my strokes. Her hips started to move with the rhythm of my strokes. Her breath came in gasps.
'Y...YES BABU, Y...YES,' she screamed.
'Do I need to be careful?' I asked.
'NO NEED, CUM INSIDE ME. I AM SAFE,' she screamed.
Suddenly, her body arched. I continued to fuck her with short, hard strokes until she shouted, 'BABU, FASTER, Y...YES, FASTER, HARDER, YES, HARDER. OH MY GOD, I AM COMING,' and fell back on the bed, gasping for breath.
A few strokes later, I poured my cum into her waiting vagina and lay panting on her. After a few minutes, I rolled off her. We both lay savoring the pleasure we had just experienced.
'Oh Babu, you were great. I have never felt so much pleasure before,' Minu said.
'I only humped. The whole credit goes to the little fellow,' I said, pointing to my flaccid cock.
'Not all, but most of it,' Minu giggled, taking my limp cock in her hands and kissing it. My cock started to grow. 'Oh my God, you call it little, it is huge,' Minu exclaimed.
'By your scream, it seemed that Jas is not very well-endowed in this department,' I laughed.
'I thought he was big, but now he seems just adequate,' Minu said, cuddling up to me.
'Have you slept with anyone other than Jas?' I asked out of curiosity.
'No, only Jas and now you,' she replied.
Our eyes met. Slowly, our lips drew nearer until they were locked in a long kiss. During the kiss, I climbed over her. Minu spread her legs and, reaching down between her legs, guided my cock into her fuck tube. After we had fucked for the second time, we dozed off.
I woke up before she did. I pushed her onto her belly. It was time to fuck her ass hole. I separated her buttocks and inspected her puckered hole.
'Her hole looks very small,' I thought, 'I wouldn't be surprised if her ass hole is still a virgin.'
Suddenly, with a start, she woke up. 'What are you doing?' she asked, yawning.
'Nothing, I was looking at your ass hole,' I said.
'Are you planning to lick my ass hole also?' she asked.
'I was not planning to lick your ass hole, but to fuck it,' I said.
'You are joking,' she said, laughing.
'No, I am dead serious. Soon you will feel my cock going up your virgin back door,' I replied, pressing her tight sphincter with my thumb, 'It's virgin, isn't it?'
'You are serious, aren't you?' she said, after a while.
'I told you,' I said, taking out a tube of Vaseline from the bedside table drawer.
'I won't let you,' she said, moving away from me.
'In that case, I'll have to use force,' I chuckled.
'I'll scream for help,' she said, still inching away from me.
'And have your naked photo splashed all over the front page tomorrow, never. You know how the media is? They will ferret out the entire story about you and Jas,' I laughed, 'Minu, come here.'
'No, I won't,' she said, jumping out of the bed.
'Where the hell do you think you are going?' I said and dived to catch her.
I caught her before she could clear the bed. She fought like a wild cat, but I was too strong for her. Within minutes, I had her flat, face down, on the bed with me lying on top. I took the rope, already tied to the legs of the bed, and tied both her hands tightly to the bed.
She lay on the bed with her face downwards and her outstretched arms tied to the bed. She didn't give up. I sat beside her and looked at my handiwork.
She continued to struggle silently and kick with her legs. I caught her legs and, bending the knees, pushed them under her. I placed one of my legs between her calves and her thighs so that she could not straighten out or kick.
Her ass was in the air. I spread her ass cheeks and squeezed the Vaseline on it. 'Minu, your ass hole seems to be virgin,' I said, rubbing the Vaseline around her ass hole.
'Babu, please let me go,' she begged, ceasing to struggle.
'Of course, I'll let you go, but after I have taken your ass hole cherry,' I said, continuing to rub Vaseline on her butthole.
'OWWW, TAKE OUT YOUR FINGER FROM MY ASS HOLE, YOU BRUTE,' she screamed as I inserted my forefinger in her ass hole to grease it from inside.
'Tut, tut, rudeness never pays,' I said, slapping her buttocks. Her white ass turned light pink.
'OUCH! DON'T HIT ME, YOU BASTARD,' she shouted.
'You called me a bastard,' I said, hitting her hard on her bum.
'Yes, I'll call you a bastard not once but a thousand times,' she said.
'And I'll hit you each time you call me a bastard,' I said, hitting her hard.
Bastard...slap...Bastard...slap...Bastard...slap....BASTARD...SLAP....BASTARD....SLAP.
She grew louder and louder, and my slaps harder and harder. Her buttocks had taken a dark crimson hue. Suddenly, she moaned, thinking it was a trick, I continued to slap her.
'Y...ES, BABU, HIT ME, HIT ME HARDER, GO ON, DON'T STOP,' she shouted, wriggling her bum.
'You think I'll fall for your reverse psychology,' I laughed, slapping her as hard as I could.
'FUCK ME BABU, FUCK ME. HURRY,' Minu shouted. I was taken aback by the urgency. I quickly got into position and rammed my cock in her vagina. To my surprise, her vagina was dripping wet.
'NOT IN MY VAGINA, YOU IDIOT, FUCK ME IN MY ASS HOLE. YES, YES, YOU HAVE HEARD RIGHT. FUCK ME IN MY ASS HOLE,' she yelled, 'HURRY BEFORE THE TINGLING SENSATION STOPS IN MY ASS.'
'Don't scream as it will hurt,' I said, placing my cock on her rear entrance.
'I won't. You just shove your big cock in and fuck my ass hole and hurry,' she said urgently. I took a firm grip of her and pushed my hips forward in a hard stroke.
'AAAAAAAAYYYYYYIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE,' she screamed as half of my cock buried itself inside her ass hole. I pulled it back a couple of times and pushed it in again until my balls hit her vaginal lips.
'I told you not to yell, stupid girl. If someone has heard it, then there will be trouble,' I said, getting angry.
'We'll deal with it when the time comes. Now you concentrate on fucking my ass hole,' she moaned.
Luckily, no one had heard her piercing scream. Slowly, I moved my cock in and out of her rear hole. Her ass hole was very tight. I leaned down to stroke her hard and swollen clitoris.
'OH BABU, IT FEELS REAL NICE,' she moaned.
I continued to hump her ass hole while rubbing her vagina and manipulating her swollen clitoris. Her vagina was dripping cum.
'FUCK ME HARDER. BAABBUUU, FASTER AND HARDER,' she shouted. I shoved two fingers deep into her vagina and moved them in and out.
'OH MY GOD, I AM COMING,' she screamed and collapsed on the bed, nearly dislodging my cock from her ass hole.A few strokes later, I felt my cock swell and start to spurt cum inside her gaand, and I lay, gasping for breath, on her crouched figure.
Soon, my flaccid cock slipped out of her asshole, and I had rolled off her. 'Babu, please undo my hands now,' Minu said.
'No tricks!' I asked.
'Promise, I'll behave,' Minu said. I decided to risk it. As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed my head with her two hands and planted a long and passionate kiss on my lips.
'Thank you, Babu, you were wonderful,' Minu panted when the kiss broke, and, catching hold of my prick, added, 'and you, big fellow, were fantastic, absolutely fantastic.'
We lay kissing and caressing each other. 'Minu, don't you think you should be going now? It is quite late,' I said.
'No, not yet,' she said.
When I showed her my watch, she said, 'Okay, I'll leave, but fuck me one more time. Please.'
'Okay,' I laughed, 'but which hole shall I fuck?'
'You decide so that I can get into position,' she said.
When she was leaving, she asked, 'When can I come again?'
'You want to rent a room in my castle in the air?' I laughed.
'Aw, forget what I said,' she said, blushing, 'Please, Babu, when shall I come again?'
'Would Monday suit you?' I asked.
'After five days? Okay, okay, I'll come. Same time?' she asked.
I nodded. 'Babu, you didn't tell me how you spread those rumors in the school,' Minu said.
'I'll tell you later, now you go,' I said.
I was in a good mood. I had not only fucked Minu's choot and gaand, but she had begged me to let her come again. Now, only Ravi's mother was left. If all goes well, I'll fuck her soon.
'BELA,' I shouted when I reached home, 'A HOT CUP OF TEA AND SOMETHING TO EAT. I AM STARVING.'
After ten minutes, she came carrying a tray. 'Aaj aap bahut khush lag rahe ho. Kya Minu ki choot phard dee (You look happy. Have you popped Minu's cherry),' she said, pouring out the tea.
'Come, sit here,' I said, 'I'll tell you.'
'Remember, two years ago, I had shown your choot to three of my friends,' I said. She nodded.
'Then, I had a fight with them and promised to fuck the ladies, i.e., Mac's maidservant, Jas's sister, and Ravi's mother, they were fucking,' I continued. Again, she nodded.
'Today, I fucked Minu, Jas's sister. I have already fucked Shanti a few days ago, Mac's maidservant. Now, only Ravi's mother is left. God willing, I will fuck her soon also,' I said.
'Ravi, wohi hai na jo mujhe paise dekar chodna chahata tha (Ravi is the same fellow who offered me money to sleep with him),' Bela asked.
'Good girl,' I said, kissing her, 'You remember everything.'
I reported to work whenever I was free. Within a fortnight, I was able to develop the film and make prints. The prints were not of the best quality, but they would serve the purpose.
The next day, I spotted Ravi's mother leaving the apartment building. I followed her. She entered a self-service store. I entered behind her. In a lonely aisle, I confronted her.
I was very nervous. I had never done such a thing before. Scaring a young girl to submit is one thing, but blackmailing a mature, experienced woman to have sex is another thing.
'Good morning, auntie, I am Ravi's friend,' I said. I didn't introduce myself on purpose, lest things went awry.
I had never met her face to face. The maroon sari and blouse she was wearing suited her. She looked good-looking. She was tall and slim with big, grapefruit-sized boobs. She was dark, but her red, sensuous lips were very sexy. Her bobbed hair fell on her shoulders, adding to her beauty.
'Good morning. What is your name?' she replied, smiling. She had a nice smile.
'Here, look at these,' I said, ignoring her question and pressing the envelope containing the photos in her hand.
'What is it?' she asked.
She opened the envelope and looked at the pictures very carefully, glancing at me after each photo. My nervousness increased. I stood on one leg, then the other.
'I have the negatives. If you want them, then you will have to sleep with me also,' I said, nervously.
She took her time. She looked at them once, twice. When she was turning them over for the third time, I threatened, 'If you don't agree, then I will send them to your husband and plaster them all over town.'
'Photos toh bahut achchi hain. Kya tumne khinchi hain? (Photos are very good. Did you take them?)' she asked.
'Yes or no?' I asked, getting panicky at the delay.
'Mujhe kahan aur kab mujhe chodna chahoge (When and where would you like to fuck me),' she said without turning a hair.
I was floored. She had agreed just like that. 'C...Come t...tomorrow at 2 p.m. at this a...address,' I stammered, handing over a slip with the address on it.
'I'll be there,' she said, putting the photos and the address in her purse and returned to her shopping.
Outside, I heaved a sigh of relief. | 3 |
103,575 | MY EARLY LIFE AND LOVES | 'The Estate' had been in our family for centuries. It was very large. It extended from the horizon on one side and where the sky meets the earth on the other and then some more. Several rivers and streams flowed through it.
It comprised approximately 90 to 100 villages, situated on the banks of these rivers and streams. The soil was very fertile. 'The Estate' was self-sufficient in almost everything. It had schools, hospitals, infirmaries, fire stations, police force, etc.
I was born on 'The Estate' on a chilly February afternoon at 5:19 p.m. My mother, Durga Devi, was the youngest wife of Mr. Jamshed Shamsher Singhji, the eldest son of Rai Bahadur Shamsher Raajbir Singhji, my grandfather. I was christened Raajbir Jamshed Singhji, after my great-grandfather, but everyone calls me Saheb Sahebji.
My mother told me the story of how I came to be called Saheb Sahebji.
"When I was born," she said, "your grandfather ordered Lachcho, his favorite maid, 'Lachcho, take sahib ji (sahib - sir and ji is added for respect) with you and take care of him.'"
She took care of you and brought you to me at feed times. In the evenings when your grandfather, after finishing his work, used to relax with his family, he would say daily without fail, "Laccho, sahib ji kahan hai? (Where is sahib ji?)"
Lachcho would post-haste bring you to him, saying, "Sahib, sahib ji aa gaye hain (Sahib, sahib ji has come)."
We got so used to hearing 'sahib sahibji' and somehow everyone started calling you also Sahib Sahibji. Over the years, the name got distorted to Saheb Sahebji. When your father was enrolling you in the school, he couldn't recollect your real name and wrote your name as Saheb Sahebji in the school register.
When I was born, my grandfather was at the head of 'The Estate'. After his death, my father jointly with his two brothers, Mr. Ranbir Shamsher Singhji and Mr. Randhir Shamsher Singhji, inherited it. My father, being the eldest, was in charge.
My uncles assisted him in running 'The Estate', but my father's word was law. Out of respect, everyone addressed him as Rajaji, even the children. The business of 'The Estate' was to grow different crops on its fertile lands and rear farm animals and their produce for sale.
Rajaji ruled 'The Estate' with an iron hand. 'The Estate' had several laws. Most of the laws were draconian and had remained unchanged for centuries. The first and most important law was that the 'cherry' of all the virgins belonged to the head of 'The Estate', i.e., my father.
My father loved his brothers and shared the virgins, though not equally, with them. I think it depended on their supply. From the day my grandfather died, my father hardly ever spent a night with his wives.
All women on the estate, married or otherwise, belonged to the family. A member of the family, who was twenty-one years of age and above (known as seniors), could summon any woman to his bed. She had to obey the summons of a senior or be punished. The punishment was harsh but fair.
The other important law was that you will only have sex with your legal wedded wife. Adultery and premarital sex were punishable offenses.
To illustrate, I'll narrate an incident. A man and a woman were caught having sex. Both were married but not to each other. They were produced before my father. My father was prosecutor, jury, and judge. Everyone loved my father. They accepted his verdict because he was fair.
All family members and villagers from the neighboring villages were ordered to attend the punishment. Even I had to attend it, although I was only eight. The man was publicly flogged within an inch of his life for touching a woman who did not belong to him. The woman's fate was worse.
Father had four big ferocious dogs. They obeyed him and no one else. They lay at his feet all the time, and on a command from my father, they could tear a person apart in flat two minutes.
The woman was publicly stripped and made to kneel on all fours. Then the four dogs had sex with her until she nearly died. "If you behave like a bitch, then you'll be treated like a bitch," my father said while sentencing her.
"Let this be a lesson to all," my father said after the sentence had been carried out, "have sex after you are married and then only with your legal partner."
Since then, I understand, no case of adultery has been reported.
There were many other such draconian laws. I could go on and on, but that would serve no purpose.
The family consisted of my father and his three wives, my uncle Ranbir and his two wives, and uncle Randhir and his three wives. I was the youngest of the thirty-six children.
The family resided in the 'Kothi' (house). It was called a house, but it was a large four-storied mansion with over a hundred rooms and vast gardens and lawns. Attached to it was a two-storied annex. The mansion along with its annex was situated between two streams. The family lived on the top three floors of the kothi. The ceremonial halls, offices, guest rooms, and other public rooms were situated on the ground floor.
No man was permitted in the residential quarters of the family. The maids did all the work and lived in the annex. There were more maids than actually required to do the work. It was kept this way because it suited the family. More maids meant more cunts to fuck.
All girls, on 'The Estate', from the age of six onwards were required to wear white clothes. On the fourteenth birthday, she, a virgin, was brought to the kothi. The maids of my father or uncles, depending on who was going to deflower her, would take over. They would prepare her, i.e., give her a bath with scented soap and water, comb and oil her hair, and shave her pubic hair, if required. All the three brothers had their own rooms for this purpose. At night, the virgin would be led naked into one of these chambers.
On the morning after she had lost her cherry, she would no longer wear white but a yellow lahenga (a long skirt worn mostly by villagers) and nothing else. In other words, she would be topless. The lahenga would be provided by the kothi's central store maintained for this purpose only. At this time, she would also learn the rules and regulations governing her.
My father and my uncles were the only ones who could have sex with a maid in the yellow brigade, as the girls in yellow lahengas were called. The virgins and maids in yellow were also used to entertain guests. I had seen maids from the yellow brigade spending nights with guests of the family, but never a virgin. But I had heard stories that during the British times, grandfather used to provide virgins to senior British officers who came on an official visit to 'The Estate'. This, I understand, was how he bought the title of 'Rai Bahadur' for himself.
After the yellow brigade, the maids would join the "green pool", better known as "the pool". They would wear green lahengas, and their choots would be available to all family members above the age of twenty-one. The maids of the pool together with the yellow brigade were all over the kothi. To regulate the population of the maids, the three brothers met every week or so.
When a maid was sent back to their homes or even got married, then she would remain in the pool unless my father chose to give her the 'red' status. This meant that in addition to my father and uncles, her husband could also have sex with her, and no one else.
Normally, the maids were sent back to their homes within six months of losing their cherry. If during this time they got pregnant, then the pregnancy was taken care of in an infirmary attached to the 'kothi'. It was ensured that the maid is not pregnant when she left. No maid was permitted to marry before sixteen years of age and then also with the express approval of my father.
There was another type of maids known as handmaidens. Handmaidens wore blue saris but no blouse. They could cover their boobs with the pallu (upper end of the sari that goes over the shoulder) of the sari.
A big ceremony was held on the twenty-first birthday of a male member of the family. In the ceremony, he was given two rooms with a kitchenette, a ring with the family crest (his license to have sex with maids from 'the pool'), a sword, and a virgin of his choice as his personal handmaiden. He owned the handmaiden, and no one else but he could have sex with her, not even my father.
It was prohibited to indulge in any sexual activity in public, but the bare tits of the maids were so tempting that we all, seniors and youngsters, squeezed and kissed them whenever we got a chance. The brave and adventurous ones amongst us went to the extent of lifting their lahengas and fingering their hairless choots. It became a sort of a game. Dares were made, and bets laid. The maids didn't mind and enjoyed the game.
I recall an incident that happened when I was eleven years old. The boys and girls had separate common rooms. One day after lunch, six seniors, two fifteen-year-olds, and three of my cousins of my age, and I were in the boy's common room. We, eleven-year-olds, were playing 'chowpard', a game not very different from Ludo, the fifteen-year-olds were lolling around, and the seniors were in a huddle discussing something in whispers.
Suddenly, a senior said, "So it is settled.""Nothing is settled," Ranjit, one of my stepbrothers, said.
"Tai tau ho gaya hai. Jo paheli aurat iss karame main gussegi usse Ranjit chodega (It has been decided. Ranjit will fuck the first woman who enters the room)," the third senior said.
There was a chorus of ayes.
"What happens if chachi (aunt - wife of father's younger brother) or his mother enters the room first?" a senior chuckled.
"Tau Ranjit chachi ko chodega (Then Ranjit will fuck chachi)," someone said, and they all laughed.
"No, I never agreed to that," Ranjit protested.
They went into a huddle again. "Okay. Ranjit will fuck the first maid who enters the room," the first senior proclaimed.
"Agreed," Ranjit said.
"No one will help you," another senior said.
"Don't worry, I can manage," Ranjit said confidently, "but what is the bet?"
"Agar tu haar gaya tau tu apni londi ko ek ek raat ke liye hum sab ke pass bhejega (If you lose then your handmaiden will spend a night with each of us)," the second senior said.
"Agar main jeet haya tau phir main tumhaari londiyon ko chodunga (If I win then I'll fuck your handmaidens)," Ranjit said.
They all agreed. I may state here that it was a matter of pride to fuck someone else's handmaiden.
The wait started. There was silence in the room except for the sound of rolling dice. Everyone was watching the door. An hour ticked by. Then someone pressed the door handle.
"LOOK," a senior shouted.
All eyes turned towards the door. Even we stopped playing and looked towards the door. All waited with bated breath for the door to open. The door started to open. Suddenly, we heard a young male voice say, "There you are. I have been looking for you all over," and the door was pulled shut.
"What an anti-climax," a senior laughed nervously.
"We'll have our fun. It is nearly four, and the maids will be bringing our tea soon," another senior said.
At sharp five, the door opened, and two maids from the yellow brigade walked in with trays loaded with cups and saucers.
"Good afternoon, masters," they said together.
"Who are you? I haven't seen you before," Amrit said to the maid who had entered first.
"We are both new. My name is Arti. Today is my third day in the kothi," she said politely.
"I am Sandhya. I joined the yellow brigade only this morning," she said, blushing.
"Excuse us, we'll be back," they said and left.
"They both belong to the yellow brigade," a senior said.
"So what? A bet is a bet. Ranjit ko in main se ek ko chodna pardega (Ranjit will have to fuck one of them)," another senior said.
"Ranjit will get into trouble," the second senior said.
"He should have thought of it earlier," the third senior said.
"Ranjit, send your handmaiden to me tonight," the fourth senior said, and they all laughed.
"Not so fast. I stand by the bet. Yeh batao kissko chodoon, Arti ya Sandhya? (Just tell me which one I should fuck, Arti or Sandhya?)" Ranjit said.
"Arti, she entered first," they decided. Two minutes later, the two girls returned with tea and biscuits, etc.
"Arti, come here," Ranjit ordered.
Arti came to him and said, "Yes, master."
"Apna lahenga uttar, main tujhe chodunga (Take off your lahenga (skirt), I am going to fuck you)," Ranjit said.
"Master, don't, you'll get into trouble," Arti said, backing away and placing her hands in front of her choot (vagina) to protect it.
"Let me worry about that. Take off your lahenga, I say," Ranjit said, catching hold of Arti and pulling her to him. Sandhya, seeing that no one was paying attention to her, slipped out of the room.
"No, please, my choot is reserved for Rajaji and his brothers. If you fuck me, then we'll both get into big trouble," Arti protested.
Ranjit caught hold of Arti and tried to open the string of her lahenga. Arti fought back. Everyone was watching this unequal struggle. We youngsters left our game to watch as well.
Ranjit couldn't undress Arti. He pressed her down on the thick carpet and, raising her lahenga, spread her legs wide. Then he rammed his cock into her choot and started to fuck her with hard and fast strokes.
A few minutes later, Arti sighed, "Oh master."
"Did you hear that? Arti is enjoying herself," one of the seniors said.
"GO ON RANJIT," the second senior shouted.
Ranjit looked up and grinned without missing a stroke.
Soon, Arti's hips started to move up and down. Everyone started to clap in the rhythm of Ranjit's strokes and shouted, "RANJIT, AUR ZOR SE CHOD. ARTI KI CHOOT KA CHOD KAR KEEMA BANA DE (RANJIT, FUCK HER HARDER. YES, MAKE MINCEMEAT OF HER CHOOT)."
They continued to clap loudly and shout. Then the door opened, and Saraswati, the youngest wife of my youngest uncle, attracted by the noise, entered. Without a word, she stood watching.
One by one, the spectators saw her and fell silent. Just then, with a loud grunt, Ranjit came. He stood up, and as Arti tried to get up, he said, "Tu leti reh. Tum main se koyi isse chodega? Barda maza aaya. Isski choot bahut tight hai (You remain lying. I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Will any of you like to fuck her? Her choot is real tight)."
All remained silent, looking past him at chachi (aunt - wife of father's younger brother).
"Why are you so quiet? You have lost that's why. Better luck next time. Where is Sandhya? I bet her choot is still tighter," he said and turned around to look for Sandhya.
Then he saw chachi. Arti quickly got up and set her lahenga right.
"What do you think you were unto?" she asked. Without replying, everyone hung their heads.
"Anyway, this is a matter for Rajaji. Both of you follow me," chachi said.
All three left the room. We youngsters didn't understand what had happened. One of us asked Satyabir, one of the fifteen-year-olds, "Ranjit bhaiya Arti per kyoon lete huye the? (Why was Ranjit bhaiya (elder brother) lying on Arti?)"
"Ranjit bhaiya Arti ko chod rahe the (Ranjit bhaiya was fucking Arti)," he replied.
"Kyoon chod rahe the? Kya mazaa aata hai? (Why was he fucking her? Is it pleasurable?)" I asked.
"Yes, many times more than masturbating," he laughed.
"Masturbating? What is that?" one of us asked.
"You don't know what is masturbating? Follow me," he said and led us all to the bathroom.
"Take out your cocks," he said. We obeyed.
"Now move the foreskin up and down and think of Ranjit bhaiya fucking Arti," he ordered. We complied again. Soon, our cocks were hard.
"Now what?" I asked.
"Continue doing it till you feel pleasure," Satyabir said, "Saheb, not so slowly, do it faster."
We did as he said. "I don't feel anything," one of us said after a while.
"I AM FEELING IT. OH OH IT IS WONDERFUL. I'VE NEVER FELT SO MUCH PLEASURE BEFORE," one of us shouted. We redoubled our efforts. We fisted our cocks faster. One by one, we all had an orgasm.
"Is fucking more pleasurable than this?" I asked.
"Yes, very much more," he replied.
"Now we'll also fuck," I said.
"You can't until you are twenty-one years old," he chuckled.
"Then how do you know that fucking is very pleasurable? You are only fifteen," one of us asked.
"I know," Satyabir bhaiya laughed.
"Bhaiya (elder brother), have you fucked anyone?" one of us asked.
"Don't tell anyone. Only once on the quiet," he said, lowering his voice.
We returned to the room. The tea had become cold. Some seniors got hold of two maids. They brewed fresh tea. While we were having our tea, Ranjit entered the room with a big grin on his face. We all crowded around him.
"What happened?" a senior asked.
"Nothing. We went to Rajaji's office, and chachi (aunt) explained what we were doing," Ranjit explained.
"What did she say? Ranjit Arti ko chod raha tha (Ranjit was fucking Arti)," the second senior chuckled.
"No, she said they both were behaving most improperly in the common room," Ranjit said.
"Ranjit, explain yourself," Rajaji said.
I told him everything truthfully. I told him that you guys had dared me. I didn't tell him that we had laid a bet. Then he turned to Arti. "You are aware that you belong to the yellow brigade, then why did you agree," he said.
"I tried hard to save my choot, but..." Arti said, bursting into tears.
"You know that what was done was against the rules," he said.
Arti again nodded and wailed louder.
"There is no need to cry. It was not your fault. You can go," he said. Arti left with a sigh of relief.
"And for you, young man, no sex for you for a fortnight," he said and, giving me a blue badge with red stripes, added, "give this to your handmaiden and ask her to report to the central stores. She'll work there for the next fifteen days."
Just then, his favorite maid, I forget her name...you know the pretty one with big boobs... ah yes, Mamta, came in with the afternoon tea and snacks. We rose to leave, but Rajaji said, "Saraswati, have tea with me before you go. Ranjit, you too."
I saw that Mamta had already brought three cups. She poured out the tea and withdrew. "Rajaji, you have been very lenient with this rascal. He deserved much tougher punishment. Forcing the poor girl in the common room in front of youngsters," chachi said, sipping her tea.
He laughed, "Boys will be boys. I remember the wild things we three did when we were young."
"What did you do?" I asked.
He looked at me, then looking at chachi, said, "Ask your chacha (uncle – father's younger brother). He used to be our ringleader."
Chachi blushed.
After drinking tea, we left.
"Okay, boys, who is going to send his handmaiden to me tonight," Ranjit said, laughing. Then they talked so softly that I couldn't hear them.
After that day, I got hooked on masturbating. I started playing with my cock at least two to three times a day.
The next important incident took place when I was then thirteen years, nine months, and twenty-one days old. Yes, I can't forget that day. It was Friday, the thirteenth of December.Everybody says that Friday the thirteenth is unlucky, but for me it was a harbinger of luck. On this day, Mamta, Rajaji's favorite maid, caught me masturbating.
This is what happened. It was a cold day. I lay in my bed covered with a quilt. My eyes were closed, and I was busy masturbating. The quilt moved up and down with the movement of my hand. I was concentrating so hard on the 'job in hand' that I didn't hear the bedroom door open. I also didn't hear Mamta enter and approach the bed.
Mamta said, pulling the quilt away, "You naughty boy, what are you doing?"
Several things happened simultaneously. My face became red with embarrassment, I lost my erection, and pushing my cock inside my pajamas, I begged Mamta not to tell anyone about it, especially my father. I don't know if Mamta heard me because she kept staring at my crotch.
"Mamta, please don't tell father. He'll surely punish me," I repeated with folded hands.
"I'll not tell anyone if you'll show me your cock again," she said.
I couldn't believe my ears. "Promise," I asked.
"Word of honor," she said, touching her ears and crossing her heart.
I took out my limp member and showed it to her. She took it in her hand. Lo and behold, my cock started to grow big. "Oh my God," she said, staring at my erect cock, "Saheb, how old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?"
"I'll be fourteen in a couple of months," I replied.
"Your cock is very large for a lad who is not yet fourteen," she laughed and, giving my cock a squeeze, added, "Okay, you can put it back again. Promise me that you won't play with it again."
"I promise, I won't masturbate again," I said.
She turned to leave.
"Oh yes, your cock made me forget why I had come to your room in the first place," she giggled, stopping halfway to the door, "Your mother wants you to accompany her to the temple tomorrow morning at six thirty."
For a couple of days, nothing happened, but on the third night, I woke up suddenly and found I was not alone in bed.
"W...W....WHO?" I stuttered.
"Shh, not so loud. It's me...Mamta," Mamta said.
"What are you doing in my bed?" I asked.
"I have come to take your big cock," she giggled, pushing her hand inside my pajamas and grabbing it. Her touch made my cock swell, and it stood in all its glory.
The first thought that came to mind was that Mamta had told father about my masturbating, and he had ordered her to cut my cock off and bring it to him.
"Mamta, please don't take my cock, I haven't masturbated since that day," I lied, as I had masturbated several times since that day.
"Arre pagle, tujhe bahut mazaa aayega (You silly boy, you'll enjoy yourself)," she said, squeezing my cock.
"How will I enjoy myself if you cut it off?" I said.
"Cut off your cock? What nonsense are you talking? I want to take it in my choot," she said, getting irritated, "Bata kabhie tunne kissi ko choda hai? (Tell me, have you fucked anyone?)"
Though I was confused, I replied truthfully, "No, I haven't."
"Mujhe chodega? (Would you like to fuck me?)" she giggled.
I had hundreds and thousands of times masturbated, imagining that I was fucking someone or the other. Fucking in real was like a dream come true. I jumped at the opportunity.
"OH YES. OH YES," I said excitedly.
"Shh, not so loud. Come on top of me," she said, pulling me on top of her with my cock. I climbed on top of her. She was naked.
Mamta spread her legs, and with a deft movement of her hips, took the whole of my cock inside her choot.
"Owww, you're big. You fill me so," she groaned.
"Oh Mamta, your choot is soooo hot and wet," I said.
"My choot has been leaking like a municipality tap since I saw your cock," Mamta giggled, "Saheb, ab der mat karo aur mujhe chod (Saheb, don't delay now, fuck me)."
I started pushing my cock in and out of her choot as fast as I could, like I had seen Ranjit, my stepbrother, do when he had fucked Arti. After a few such strokes, Mamta said, "Saheb, stop." Ignoring her, I continued to ram my cock into her choot.
"Saheb, stop," Mamta said, "Stop, I say."
"Kya main theek se nahin chod raha hoon? (Am I not fucking correctly?)" I said, stopping.
"Saheb, no you're not. Tumhara laurda meri choot se nikal gaya hai (Your cock is no longer inside my cunt)," she said, inserting it back again.
"Oh," I said, blushing, and started to fuck her again with hard and fast strokes. My cock would slip out of her cunt every few strokes.
"Saheb, fuck me slowly, then we both will enjoy it," Mamta said. I started to fuck her as she had suggested.
"That is the way. Oh yesss," Mamta moaned. I continued to fuck her with slow, long strokes.
"Yess Saheb, it feels so gooood," Mamta moaned.
Soon Mamta was bucking and moaning wildly. I plunged my cock harder and deeper into her choot. Her hips were moving up and down in rhythm with my in-and-out movement. After ten minutes or so, I felt my orgasm approaching. My strokes became shorter and harder.
"Oh y...hes oh y...hesss," Mamta continued to moan softly.
Suddenly Mamta raised her bottoms and pressed her crotch to mine. "Oh Saheb, go on. Do not stop OH YESSSSSS," she moaned loudly and fell back, gasping for breath. At that moment, I experienced my very first orgasm in a wet and hot cunt.
After the orgasm, I slowed down but did not stop and continued the fuck movement. Soon Mamta was on the boil again and came with a loud sigh. I continued to fuck her. She had orgasm after orgasm. I rolled off her, gasping for breath after my third orgasm. For some time, we lay kissing in a close embrace, savoring the intense sensation we had just experienced.
"Saheb, you were very good," she said, kissing me passionately, "I must go now."
"Please don't go yet. Let me fuck you once more," I begged, pulling her back into bed.
"No, please let me go. If we get caught, then Rajaji will kill me," she said, wearing her lahenga, "Don't worry, I'll come again."
"Okay, come tomorrow. I'll wait for you," I said.
"I can't promise that, but I'll definitely come whenever I can," she said and left.
That night, I slept with a smile on my lips, feeling proud of myself, having fucked my first woman. Mamta woke me early the next morning at sunrise. "What a surprise. I was dreaming about you only. Come, let's fuck," I said, making space for her.
"Shh, not so loud. I've come to change the bed sheets," she said, pulling me out of bed and pointing to spots of dried cum, "See these stains. If your maid else sees them, then we'll be in trouble."
I was shocked. The bed sheet was in a mess. "We must be careful in the future," she said, changing the bed sheet and taking the stained one with her.
She came after two days. She spread a towel on the bed before lying down on it. We fucked and enjoyed ourselves immensely. My knowledge of sex was very sketchy. There was no book on sex on 'The Estate'. All what I knew about sex was from what I heard my older brothers and cousins discuss among themselves. Many facts, according to Mamta, were wrong.
"How do you know?" I would ask her.
"Rajaji told me," she said each time.
I had never seen a cunt. One night, after fucking, I inspected every nook and cranny of her cunt with a torch. In three weeks, she came about a dozen times. Then one night, she came and sat next to me with a long face.
"What's the matter? This is waiting for your cunt," I said, exposing my rigid member.
"Sorry to disappoint the big boy," she said, kissing my cock, "I'm having my period."
"Oh yes, I've heard about it. Show me," I said.
Initially, she was reluctant, but I managed to persuade her. "Oh, that's all. It does not stop us from fucking," I said.
"No, Saheb, we shouldn't do it. It is very messy," she replied.
"Have you tried fucking during these days?" I said, looking at her bloody cunt.
"Yes, once your uncle fucked me during the fag end of my period. It was... not very nice. Today is my first day," she said, "we can fuck again in a few days."
"You mean we can't fuck for a few more days, then I'll have to masturbate," I said.
"It won't be necessary. I'll suck you off," she said, taking my cock in her hands and starting to lick it.
"Mamta, no, it's dirty," I said.
"Relax, you'll love it," she said.
She ran her tongue up and down my shaft and licked the swollen red head of my cock while she played with my balls. After a few minutes, she took my cock into her mouth. She fisted my cock while sucking it.
"Oh, it feels so nice," I moaned.
Her head bobbed up and down on my cock. My hips started moving forward and back in a fuck motion, as if I was fucking her mouth. She took practically the whole length of my cock into her mouth without choking. Soon, my orgasm was round the corner.
"MAMTA, GO ON. DON'T STOP," I said, holding her head as my cock got harder and bigger. As my orgasm hit me, I pushed the whole length of my cock down her throat. Momentarily, she choked before I released her head.
"Oh Mamta, that was wonderful," I panted.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, panting.
"Oh yes, very much," I replied.
"When you start producing sperms, then you'll enjoy it even more," she said.
"Please do it again," I pleaded.
"I will, after a few minutes," she replied, smiling happily.
We continued to fuck and suck on the quiet till another incident that made an impression on me took place.
Once night, she had promised to come the following night, but did not come. She did not come for over a week. I was very worried. I couldn't inquire about her whereabouts. I had no alternative but to wait.
Mamta came on the eighth night and got into my bed. I was angry with her.
"What are you doing here? Go away," I said, turning away from her.
"Please, Saheb, don't be angry with me. I could not come," she said.
"Where were you?" I asked.
"I was with Rajaji," she said."Theek hai, tu wahan Rajaji se chudwa rahi thi aur main yahan apna lund haath
main lekar tera intezaar kar raha tha (That's great, you were enjoying yourself
with Rajaji and I was waiting for you here with my cock in my hand)," I said
sarcastically.
"Saheb, I swear that nobody fucked me in these eight days," Mamta said with
tears in her eyes.
"Really! Then what were you doing?" I asked.
"Watching others getting fucked," she said.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked, perplexed.
"Main batati hoon lekin pehle mujhe ek baar chodo. Pichle hafte se meri choot
tera lund ke liye pyaasi hai (I'll tell you but first fuck me. My cunt is thirsting for
your cock for the whole of last week)," she begged.
I immediately climbed over her and rammed my cock into her choot. After a very
satisfying fuck, we lay panting together. "Saheb, you ejaculated. I swear I felt
something warm fall inside my choot," she said.
"Yes, I know," I said, "Tell me if Rajaji didn't want your choot then what did he
want?"
"You know that we are five brothers and sisters. Ravi, my eldest brother, works in
sales. In this connection, he visits the city very often," Mamta said, "There he met
a girl called Jyoti. They fell in love with each other."
"Last week he married her on the quiet and brought her to the kothi in the
evening. He called me and said, 'Mamta, what shall I do? I've married without
Rajaji's permission.'"
"Where is your bride?" I asked, seeing him alone.
"She is waiting outside," he said.
"Have you...Have you..." I said, blushing.
He understood what I wanted to say and replied, "No, I haven't touched her."
"Thank heavens for that. If you had...then you were in big trouble. I think you
should go to Rajaji, ask for his blessings and leave her there. Later beg Rajaji's
forgiveness for marrying her without his consent or knowledge," I suggested.
"Mamta, I am scared. Please come with us," Ravi pleaded.
"Of course, I'll come with you. Go fetch her," I said.
A few minutes later, he returned with his bride and introduced me to her. Jyoti
wished me with a shy smile. She was surprised to see my bare tits and started to
say something but didn't.
I could see why he had married her. She was around sixteen years of age and
very pretty. She had an hourglass figure with the right-sized boobs to go with it.
She was tall, slim with long black hair and flashing black eyes.
Ravi and Jyoti entered Rajaji's office. I stood behind them at a distance.
"M...M...Master, this is Jyoti," Ravi stuttered, "We got married in the city." | 4 |
103,623 | BAM WHAM THANK YOU MA'AM | 'Do you know what fucking is?' I asked.
'Of course. I have seen Aslam fuck my mother nearly every night,' she replied.
'What did you see?' Paro asked.
'They are fucking. All right, you don't believe me? I'll describe the scene to you. I was passing abbu's room when I heard strange noises coming from inside. I opened the door and saw that Rani didi was lying naked on her back with legs wide apart.'
'Abbu was on top of her. Her hips were moving up and down at a furious pace. Abbu's cock was going in and out of her cunt like a piston. Rani didi was shouting, "YES, BANG IT INTO ME. HARDER. YES, HARDER..." Then I closed the door and came here to tell you,' she said.
'Hmmm...she is right, they are fucking,' I said.
'What shall we do?' she asked.
'What can we do? Let them enjoy,' Paro said.
'Enjoying is all right, but what will happen when Seema ma'am or Mohan sir find out that abbu is fucking their daughter?' Saira said.
'Nothing will happen,' Paro said, 'In this house, everyone fucks everyone.'
'You mean...' she said.
'Yes. Abbu fucks Rani didi, Nira didi, Seema ma'am and ammi, and Mohan sir fucks ammi, Seema ma'am, Rani didi and Nira didi,' I said.
Saira thought for a minute and then asked, 'Have they fucked you both too?'
'Of course. Where do you think these two girls came from?' I said, pointing to our daughters, Shashi and Rita, sleeping in their cribs.
'Is fucking nice?' Saira asked.
'It is heavenly,' Paro sighed.
'My mother also said so,' she giggled.
Few minutes later she asked, 'Will they fuck me also?'
'Of course,' Paro laughed, 'that is why you are here.'
'Who will deflower me, abbu or Mohan sir?' Saira whispered.
'None of the two. If they wanted to deflower you, they would have done so within minutes of your starting to work here,' Paro said.
'Then who is going to deflower me?' Saira asked.
'Bhaiya will open your cunt,' I replied.
'Who is bhaiya?' she asked.
'Bhaiya is abbu's son,' Paro replied.
'Has bhaiya fucked you two also?' Saira asked.
'Has he fucked us? He deflowered both of us,' I replied, laughing sarcastically.
'Will you let bhaiya deflower you?' Paro asked.
'She blushed then nodded and ran out of the kitchen,' Bela laughed, 'This is the whole conversation.'
'Great! I'll take her cherry tonight,' I said.
'Clean her up nicely and bring her after dinner to the second floor,' Seema said, 'Bela, you understand what I am saying?'
'Yes ma'am, you want me to shave her cunt,' Bela replied.
'Is the second floor ready?' I asked.
'The construction is over, only furnishing is left,' Seema said.
After dinner when I arrived on the second floor, Seema said, 'Come Babu, I'll show you around.'
She showed me three bedrooms with attached bathrooms, kitchen, pantry, TV room, and dining room. Then she led me into a large room. It was as big as abbu's room and the sitting room put together.
'We'll call this room "The Game Room" and will play our sex games here. We propose to furnish it with a bed in the center called the "Ceremonial Couch" with other beds & comfortable chairs round it in a circle,' Seema explained.
'WOW!' I agreed, 'Whose idea was it?'
'Mehru's and Seema's. They deserve all the praise. Mohan and I had nothing to do with it,' abbu said, who had just joined us.
Just then Saira escorted by Bela and Paro arrived on the scene. 'Look who is here? Today's bride,' Seema said.
'Today Babu will deflower you. Are you ready to lose your cherry?' ammi said.
'Yes,' Saira replied, hiding her blushing face in Seema's bosom.
'All right, let's take off our clothes and start the proceedings,' Seema announced, 'I'll undress the bride.'
Seema took off Saira's blouse. Her big tits swung out.
'God! Saira, your boobs are so beautiful,' I exclaimed. I stopped undressing to watch Seema strip Saira.
Seema said, taking her skirt off, 'Gentlemen, may I present Saira, tonight's bride. Look at her beautiful large tits with big dark areola encircling her nipples. Her cunt lips are tightly pressed together with her swollen clit peeping out from in between them. Her cunt hole is so small that if you are not looking for it you might miss it... Babu, she is all yours. You can deflower her now.'
'I will, but before doing that I want to taste her sweet cunt juices,' I said excitedly and lifting her in my arms laid her on the bed. Saira was blushing sweetly.
'Oh,' she moaned as I fondled her boobs and sucked her big dark nipples.
After sucking her nipples, I moved to her cunt. I ran my tongue between her lower lips and then taking her clit between my lips pressed it.
'Oh, it feels so lovely,' she moaned.
I continued to suck her clit. She moaned loudly, moving her hips up and down in a fuck movement. Her body arched. She was about to cum.
'PLEASE, DON'T TEASE ME. BHAIYA, FUCK ME,' she shouted suddenly.
'Babu, do as she says because Uncle Mohan and your abbu have been waiting over three weeks to fuck her,' ammi said, 'you can eat her pussy later.'
'All right, as you say,' I said, releasing the panting girl. Everyone in the room was naked except me. I started to take my clothes off. Saira watched me undress.
'My God! I have never seen such a long and thick cock before,' Saira said when my cock sprang to attention on release from its confinement.
'You are a lucky girl to lose your cherry to this magnificent cock,' Seema said, kissing my cock.
'If this cock deflowers me, it will hurt very much,' Saira said.
'Don't be silly, it won't hurt much. Ask Bela or Paro,' Seema said, trying to persuade her.
'No, it will be very painful. I won't let him fuck me,' Saira said.
'You bloody bitch, lie down and spread your legs. Didn't your mother tell you to obey me?' Seema said angrily, taking a menacing step towards her with her hand raised.
Saira jumped out of bed and quickly ran to ammi. 'Please ammi, help me,' she said nestling her head between ammi's breasts.
'You yourself were shouting; bhaiya fuck me, bhaiya fuck me,' ammi said, fondling her breasts.
'I did not know that bhaiya's cock was so big,' Saira replied.
'Let him fuck you. It won't hurt much,' ammi said, tweaking her nipples.
'No ammi, this cock will tear me into two,' she said.
'There is no other course left but to use force. Bela, Paro get her into position,' ammi said, pushing Saira towards them.
'NOO...' rest of her protest was lost in the scuffle.
Within a few minutes, Bela and Paro had overpowered her. They dragged her to the bed and pressed her down on it by lying on the upper half of Saira's torso. Saira continued to struggle, and her legs flailed in the air.
'Babu, deflower her,' ammi ordered.
I caught the ankles of her flailing legs and bent them on her tits. I tried to aim my cock at her cunt hole. As she was struggling very hard, I couldn't aim properly. Taking a chance, I pushed at her cunt blindly. My cock hit her between her lower lips.
'OUUCCHH, IT HURTS,' she screamed.
It hurt me also. I tried four or five times. Each time either the cock slipped upwards or downward, but her cunt hole eluded me. On the sixth try, my cock slipped downward and entered a hole.
'AAAAAAYYYYIIIIIIEEEEEE,' she screamed, 'YOU HAVE TORN MY POOR ASS HOLE. HURRY, TAKE OUT YOUR COCK FROM MY ASS HOLE.'
Realizing my mistake, I laughed, 'Oops, wrong hole,' and withdrew my cock from her ass hole.She sighed with relief and muttered philosophically, 'Barda zalim hai aapka lund. Choot ka ched nahin mila toh gaand main hee guss gaya (Your cock is very cruel. When it couldn't find my choot, it entered my ass hole).'
In the short period that Saira was preoccupied with the safety of her gaand, I placed her legs on my shoulders and, taking my cock in my hand, aimed it at her choot hole and pushed forward. It entered, but the head got stuck at the entrance.
Seema told me later that it was a funny sight. It looked like a big fat rat had got stuck in a very small rat hole.
'AAAYYYIIIEE,' she screamed, 'bhaiya please mujhe mat chodo (bhaiya, please don't fuck me).'
I was so near. I took a firmer grip of her and pushed.
'AAAAAAYYYYYYYIIIIIEEEEEE,' she yelled as my cock, tearing through her hymen, buried itself half inside her fuck tube. As she groaned, I pulled back my cock a couple of times and pushed back till my cock was fully engulfed in her cunt.
When I was fully inside Saira, Bela and Paro relaxed their hold and started to suck her tits.
I started to pump her cunt. Her choot was very tight. It gripped my cock like a vice. I could hardly move my cock in and out. Her tight choot and the fact that I had not cum in the last three weeks or so took their toll. Within five minutes of entry in her choot, I emptied my balls in her.
As soon as I vacated her cunt, Uncle Mohan was inside it. By the time Uncle Mohan and abbu had finished fucking her, she had had three orgasms. 'Kyon chudai kaissi lagi? (How did you like fucking?' Seema asked, embracing Saira.
'It was very nice,' Saira said, hiding her face in Seema's ample boobs.
'I want to fuck her again,' I announced.
'One minute,' ammi said, 'why don't you take her ass hole cherry also, then you can fuck her where you want and as you want.'
'Good idea,' I said.
'Please ammi, main gaand nahin marwauigi. Bahut dard hogi (Please ammi, not in my ass hole. It will hurt very much).'
'Didn't you hear your mother say it was very nice?' Seema reminded her.
'Yes, she also said that it is very painful,' Saira replied.
'Saira,' ammi said sternly, 'please cooperate, otherwise I will have to….'
'Okay,' Saira said and reluctantly moved towards the bed.
Seema put her in gaand fuck position and, spreading her ass cheeks, started to rub oil.The man with such a magnificent cock, definitely not. You are lucky to lose your cherry to him,' Mary said.
'But mom, he put his big thing in my asshole,' Joey complained.
'You probably deserved it. Didn't you tell me you enjoyed it? You should thank him, not complain against him,' Mary said, 'Now shut up. Fuck your partners, and let me fuck mine in peace.'
I lifted her in my arms and laid her down on the bed. She looked beautiful, her shapely breasts, her perfect hourglass figure, her freshly shaven choot smelling of expensive perfume, her pouting lower lips, and her inch-long erect clit. Except for the scar on her abdomen, every part of her body was perfectly made.
I covered her. I kissed her passionately while rubbing my cock up and down between her lower lips.
'Unn...unn unn...Oh...oh, it feels so wonderful,' Mary moaned, when I released her lips. I positioned my cock at her wet choot entrance and tried to push it in.
'Oh Babu...Jesus...it's big...Gently...Ahhh, it is in,' she groaned, 'now fuck me.'
I was surprised that a mother of three children had such a tight cunt.
I learned later that Mary was John's second wife. His first wife, Martha, and Mary were twin sisters. Martha died while giving birth to Rose, and John married her twin sister, Mary. The scar on her mid-region was from a cesarean section Mary had while delivering Joey and Sara, and she nearly died in the process. Therefore, the doctors removed her uterus.
I started to fuck her with slow, long strokes. 'Oh, it is lovely,' she moaned. Kissing her, I increased the speed. After some time, her hips started moving in rhythm with my strokes.
'Oh Babu, oh Babu,' she moaned.
I heard someone clapping in rhythm with my in-and-out movement.
'Little sweethearts, I'll deal with you later,' John shouted, fingering their choots, 'hey guys, let's watch Babu fuck my wife.'
I looked up and saw John sitting on the bed with his legs hanging to the floor. Bela and Paro were sitting on his knees. They were playing with his erect cock with one hand and rubbing their cunts with the other. John was clapping while watching us and occasionally kissed and sucked their breasts.
Slowly, everyone stopped doing whatever they were doing and watched us, except for Joey, who kept banging Saira's choot.
Apparently, Mary had not noticed the new development. Her eyes were closed, her hips moving up as she repeated, 'Babu yes, Babu yes.'
I kept varying the speed and the length of my strokes. Sometimes I fucked her with gentle strokes, then suddenly I'd change pace and ram my cock hard into her choot.
'Yes, faster Babu, faster. Oh, fuck me harder. Yes, bang it into me. Yes, that's the way. Make mincemeat out of my cunt. Yes, yes,' she screamed.
Her body arched. Sensing she was about to come, I stopped pumping her cunt but kept moving a little. 'Jesus, why have you stopped?' she screamed.
Without replying, I sealed her lips with mine in a long, passionate kiss. Then, as suddenly as I had stopped, I started to fuck her again. I did this three times, but when she shouted for the fourth time, I did not stop, and she came, screaming, 'Yes, yes, I am nearly there, ohh ohh I am coming.'
For a long time, we lay kissing each other and savoring the sensation we had just experienced. Everyone clapped. Mary blushed when she realized that we were the center of attention.
'I don't care,' she giggled, 'It was great.'
When I was about to get off, she held me tightly and said, 'Babu, not yet. You were great. Fuck me one more time.'
'Okay,' I laughed. I kissed her and fondled her till I was hard again. The second time, I lasted much longer. She came thrice before I shot my load into her cunt for the second time.
'Thank you, Babu, it felt really great,' she declared as I rolled off her.
'There is more to come,' I said, 'Ma'am, may I eat your beautiful pussy.'
My request took her by surprise. Without waiting for her reply, I started to kiss and lick her cunt lips. She sighed loudly and opened her legs wider. Soon, her hips started to move in a fuck motion.
'Gad! This is awesome,' she cried, placing her hands on the back of my head and pressing it to her pussy. I raised her legs in the air and, pushing my tongue inside her choot, began to tongue-fuck her.
'AAGHRRR,' she grunted when she felt my tongue enter her cunt.
'Gad, this is fantastic. Tongue-fuck me. Faster, Babu, faster. Yes, yes, ohh Gad,' she yelled and released a stream of choot nectar in my mouth. I licked her cunt clean and lay panting next to her.
'This was awesome. No one has tongue-fucked me before,' Mary panted, 'Babu, sit on that chair. I am going to give you the blowjob of your life.'
I sat down as directed. My cock was already stiff and pointing toward the ceiling. She took my erect cock in her hand and licked it from top to bottom.
'She is very good at giving head,' I heard John tell Abbu.
She took my cock in her fist and moved her hand up and down. I gasped as she opened her mouth and engulfed more than half my cock. She began to bob her head up and down, sliding my stiff member in and out.
I felt my cock getting harder. She continued to suck. Slowly, slowly, more and more of my cock disappeared into her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down. It was now that I realized that Mary was deep-throating me.
'My God, it feels good,' I moaned, savoring this new sensation.
A few minutes later, she pulled back slightly. Now, not only was she sliding my cock back and forth, but she was also sucking and swirling it with her tongue.
I felt my sperm rise. As I was enjoying myself so much that I tried to hold back my climax, but thought it prudent to warn her of the impending deluge.
'Mary, I am nearly there,' I moaned.
She nodded and slid her tongue against my phallus and pressed the tip of her tongue gently into my pee hole, spreading the opening slightly.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I quivered. My cock throbbed, and with a loud grunt, I exploded.
I squirted wad after wad of my cum into Mary's mouth, splattering against her tongue and the back of her throat. I flooded her mouth with cum. She swallowed as fast as she could, but still, some cum leaked out from the side of her mouth.
'Wow! Mary, that was great,' I said as Mary released my cock.
'Thank you,' Mary said, wiping the overflowing sperm with the back of her hand.
We helped ourselves to a round of drinks before dinner. 'John, why don't you and your family spend the night here and go back tomorrow night,' Abbu said.
'I second the idea. I was engrossed watching Mary and Babu that I haven't fucked my beauties at all,' Uncle Mohan said, laughing.
'I don't mind. I was so busy watching my wife being fucked by Babu that my cock has yet to taste the choots of Bela and Paro,' John laughed, then turning to Mary asked, 'Mary, what do you say?'
'I'd love to,' she replied, 'Children, what about you?'
'Mom, you've had your fun,' the girls replied, 'we'd like to be fucked also.'
'I'd like to stay too. I haven't screwed Ammi and Aunt Seema yet. They were watching mom being laid by Babu. In the meanwhile, I fucked Saira twice in her cunt and once in her asshole,' Joey said.
'Saira is good,' I said.
'Yes, even for my cock, her both the holes were very tight,' Joey said, fingering Saira, who was grinning like an ape.
After drinks, naked as we were, we went for dinner. The new furniture for the dining room was in place. The dining table had a glass top, and our nakedness was visible through it. During the meal, Mary said, 'Girls, I admire your courage to have taken such a big cock in your virgin choot. Rose, weren't you scared?'
'I saw his cock only after the deed was done. Had I seen it before he deflowered me, then I wouldn't have let it come anywhere near me,' Rose giggled.
'Come on, Rose, don't fib. You must have seen it or at least felt it before Babu fucked you,' Mary said.
'No, she didn't,' Seema interrupted, 'We tricked her. Rani told me that Rose was scared of big cocks. I told Rani to cover her face and tell her that Babu is superstitious and considers a bad omen to see the face of the girl he is about to deflower.'
'That was a clever ruse,' Mary laughed, 'What about you, Sara? Did they cover your face too?'
'No, mom, I saw his cock. I had read somewhere that the bigger the cock, the more the pleasure. Secondly, I thought if Nira can take it, so can I,' Sara replied.
'Did you deflower these two also?' she asked me, pointing to Rani and Nira.
'Yes, both of them,' I replied.
'I hadn't seen a real cock before. I had seen cocks on the net. There they were still bigger. Well, when the time came, I didn't know better, and it just happened,' Rani shrugged.
Mary looked at Nira. 'My story is similar to Rani's, but I must say that I nearly died when Babu took my cherry,' Nira said.
We enjoyed ourselves till after dinner on Sunday. After that day, the Adams spent all weekends at our place enjoying sex games.
I had not forgotten the other project. I gave it a lot of thought. I had found out that Mac had shifted to 7, Park View. I watched the house for several days at different times. I saw a big-busted Nepalese maid in her thirties working there. I assumed it was Shanti.
It would not be difficult to fuck Shanti given the circumstances in which she fucked Mac. I had a plan to fuck Minu, but the real problem was Ravi's mother. How am I going to get her into my bed?
I decided to survey the area where Ravi lived. I was surprised to see a new building, Manhattan Apartments, had come up across the road. I noticed a sign reading "Flats available." Seeds of a plan started to germinate in my mind. I contacted the janitor of the building.
'This is a new building. At present, more than half the flats are lying vacant, but not for long,' the janitor said.
Ravi's flat was on the third floor.Therefore, I inspected the flats on the third floor, trying to locate Ravi's flat from there. About half an hour later, I was lucky to see his mother cleaning her room. I chose a flat opposite Ravi's flat on the third floor and the one above it on the fourth floor.
'You want two flats?' the janitor asked.
'Yes. I want one for myself and one for my friends, who are coming from abroad and have asked me to look for a flat for them,' I replied.
'You can have six flats for all I care as long as you pay the rent in advance,' the janitor said.
'No thanks, I require two only,' I said, paying the rent.
In the next few days, I rented some furniture to make the third floor flat livable. I also had a video camera installed to record all that took place on the bed.
For the fourth-floor apartment, I rented the most sophisticated video equipment, which was capable of recording all that took place in the flat across the street. I also bought a still camera with a telescopic lens. I had to pay through the nose for the equipment, but everything was in place within a week.
Though only a limited view was visible, I was confident that given time, I would catch Ravi and his mother making love on the camera. I spent most of my afternoons in the fourth-floor flat waiting for them to get into the act.
I kicked off the new project with Minu as well. I met her in the City Park. During our conversation, I told her that Jas had told us all about how she had seduced him.
'The idiot, he does not know when to keep his mouth shut,' she said and added, 'So what?'
'Main bhi tujhe chodna chahata hoon (I want to fuck you also),' I said.
She laughed aloud. 'Are you mad?' she said, still laughing.
'Think about it,' I said.
'No way, and don't bother to call me again,' she said and walked off.
Satisfied that things were going according to plan, I sat down on a bench to decide upon the next step. Suddenly, I saw Mac's maid coming towards me. I let her go past. To ensure that she was Shanti, I called aloud, 'Shanti.'
'Yes,' she said, stopping and looking around.
With long steps, I reached her, and seeing her confused look, I said, 'Don't you recognize me? I am Babu Khan, Mac's school friend.'
'Namaste, shaab, maine aapko pehchana nahin (Namaste, sir, I didn't recognize you),' she replied.
'Are you going to the market?' I asked.
'Haan, shaab (Yes, sir),' she replied.
'I am also going in that direction. Let's walk together,' I said, falling in step with her. For ten minutes, we talked about the weather, about the new house, and Mac. She replied to all my questions humbly and without looking at me.
Then I said, 'Shanti, you are very pretty.'
She looked at me. A naughty smile played on her lips. 'Many others say so too,' she replied with a saucy expression.
'Shanti, you have a wonderful figure,' I said.
'Many others say so too,' she repeated, giggling.
'I am not joking. You really have a beautiful figure,' I said.
'What do you want?' she asked, laughing aloud.
'Mac ne bataya tha tune kaise uske lund pe chadh ke usse choda tha. Main chahata hoon ki tu mujhe bhi waisi hi chode (Mac told me how you impaled yourself on his standing cock and fucked him. I want you to fuck me the same way),' I said.
'So would many others,' she said, bursting out laughing.
I saw I was getting nowhere. Shanti was playing with me. I caught her hand and pulled her towards some thick bushes.
'Where are you taking me?' she chuckled.
As she was enjoying herself, she came without creating a fuss. Once we were behind a thick bush, I unzipped my fly and pushed her hand inside.
'W-What...?' she stammered.
'Shut up! You like big cocks, don't you? Is my cock big enough for you?' I asked, looking at her.
Her expression changed as she felt my cock grow in her hands. She measured the length and thickness of it with her hands. 'He Bhagwan! Yeh lund hai ya ek khatarnak hathiyar (My God! Is it a cock or a dangerous weapon)?' she said.
'Come to this address at two p.m. tomorrow?' I said, giving her the address.
'I've Friday afternoons off. I can come then,' she said, then hastily added, 'no wait, to taste this cock, I'll come tomorrow. Even if I have to look for a new job.'
'No need for you to lose your job because of me, come on Friday,' I laughed, 'I'll adjust my program.'
'I'll be there. Gosh, I am dripping already,' she said, squeezing my cock.
'Go now, I'll see you on Friday,' I laughed. With a final squeeze, she went her way. I was feeling lucky. I hurried to the fourth floor of Manhattan Apartments but with no luck.
On Friday, when I reached the third-floor flat, Shanti was waiting. 'Sorry, I am late,' I said, unlocking the door and showing her the bedroom, 'you undress, I'll be right back.' I checked the camera on the fourth floor, still no luck.
When I came down, Shanti was already naked and lying on the bed. Shanti was not a beauty, but had a pleasant face with a ready smile. Her boobs were not as big as I had thought at first, but they were still a handful. Her cunt was freshly shaven and reeked of cheap shaving cream.
I took off my clothes, and when my cock sprang to attention in its full glory, Shanti said, 'Aapka lund bahut bada hai, mujhe pyar se chodna (Your cock is very big. Please fuck me gently).'
I noticed her choot was already very wet. I covered her and placed my cock on her choot door. As I was about to push my cock in, she reached down and caught it.
'Shaab, dheere dheere lagta hai (Shaab, slowly, it hurts),' she said.
Slowly, I entered her. When I was fully inside her, I started to fuck her with slow, long strokes. I varied the speed and length of my strokes. I pulled my cock back to the tip of her choot and slowly inserted it back. Sometimes I gave quick, short strokes, and sometimes long, slow ones. I kept varying the length and the pace of my strokes.
It was not long before her hips started to move in rhythm with the in and out movement of my lund. Suddenly, Shanti clutched me and pressed me hard to her body. Her hips moved in a feverish motion, and a wild look came into her eyes. I knew she was very close to coming, and I was also not far away. I began to thrust viciously into her, ramming her so hard that her tits rolled back and forth.
She began to gasp, then to moan. She arched her back and thrust her head back, her eyes clinched tightly close. We were both trembling and shuddering, our breaths coming in gasps.
With a loud scream, 'I AM COMING,' she came, and immediately triggering off my orgasm also.
Gradually, our motions slowed, and we continued to make soft "ahhhh" sounds. We both opened our eyes. Our lips drew together in a long, tender kiss.
Soon, my laurda became soft and flopped out of her heavenly fuck tube. She lay there with her legs apart, and a mix of our cum oozed out of her choot.
'Shaab, what a lovely fuck. I have never cum like this before,' she said.
I took her in my arms and, kissing her tenderly, asked, 'Shanti, tell me at what age did you lose your cherry?'
'Shaab, ek baar aur chodo, phir jo aap kahoge, main bataungi (Sir, fuck me one more time, then I'll tell you what you want),' she said.
'All right, but this time you fuck me like you fucked Mac for the first time,' I said.
She smiled and, mounting me, commenced fucking me. When she had finished, I said, 'Now tell me.'
'Would you believe me if I told you that I lost my cherry before I knew I had one?' she said.
'I don't believe it. And who popped your cherry?' I asked.
'Till today, I don't know who deflowered me?' she said.
End of part 12.
To be continued...
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Saheb Sahebji | 3 |
103,632 | BAM WHAM THANK YOU MA'AM | 'Main tujhe nahin chodunga (I won't fuck you),' I said, 'Trust me. You do believe me, don't you?'
'Yes, I believe you,' she replied. Hesitatingly, she took off her pajamas and lay down on the bed. I immediately slipped between her legs. Gently, opening the lips of her virgin cunt, I put my lips on them and tongued her clitoris.
'Oh Babu,' she moaned.
I had hardly started to kiss her when she slid lower down in the bed with a sigh, whispering, 'This is heavenly.'
Thus encouraged, I continued. Soon her little lump swelled. I could take it in between my lips, and each time I sucked it, her body moved convulsively, and soon she opened her legs further and drew them up to give me better access.
Now I varied the movement by tonguing the rest of her choot. Her movements quickened, and her breathing grew more and more spasmodic. I went back to her clit and, taking it in my mouth, sucked on it.
I alternated between her clit and the rest of the cunt till, with loud sighs of pleasure, she flooded my mouth twice.
'How was it?' I asked, when I finished.
'It was heavenly,' she panted, 'but does this give you pleasure?'
'Of course,' I lied, 'There is more pleasure in giving than in receiving.'
'Oh, I feel the same way,' she said, 'I wish I could do something for you.'
In answer, I took out my cock. She touched it curiously and fisted it. 'Does that give you pleasure?' she inquired.
I nodded. 'But this,' I said, putting my hand on her choot, 'could give me much more.'
'Oh Babu, I want to. Believe me, but I am scared of getting pregnant,' she said.
'No need to be afraid, I will wear a condom. It will catch all the semen and not a single drop will enter your choot,' I said.
'Are you sure?' she asked. 'Certainly. Not a single drop will escape it,' I said.
She was in two minds. 'I don't know...' she said, doubtfully.
'There is nothing to worry. It is hundred percent safe,' I said, leading her towards the bed and laying her down. I quickly undressed and covered her.
'Darling, open your legs,' I said.
'You have not worn...what is it called ...yes, condom,' she said.
'I will wear it later. You are a virgin, and when I will deflower you, chances are that it might tear,' I explained. The truth was that I wanted to deflower her without the condom.
'Darling, open your legs,' I repeated.
Slowly she spread her legs. I placed my erection on the entrance of her choot and pressed.
'AWWA, it is hurting,' she said, as the head of my cock entered her.
I quickly got up, picked up a pencil and gave it to her. 'Bite on it if it hurts too much, but don't scream. Your mama will wake up. Understand?' I said, getting back into position again.
She nodded bravely. I pushed. The hymen stretched and wrapped around the phallus.
'AAAAAAA,' she said, biting hard on the pencil.
Suddenly, the hymen tore, the pencil snapped, and my cock was buried deep inside her.
I stopped. 'Does it hurt,' I asked. In answer to my query, Rani put her arms around my body and pulled me closer to her.
Reassured, I commenced to fuck her with slow and long strokes. After five minutes of fucking, she closed her eyes and started to moan. I realized that I was not wearing a condom. I withdrew and started wearing one.
'Tum ruk kyon gaye. Aur chodo na (Why have you stopped? Fuck me more),' she said, opening her eyes.
'In a minute,' I promised. I finished pulling on the condom on my bloodstained cock and reentered her.
'Ohhh,' she murmured as my cock rubbed the torn edges on her hymen.
I fucked her hard. After some time, I moaned, 'RANI, I AM ABOUT TO COME.'
'I AM ALSO THERE. GO ON. PLEASE DON'T STOP. OH, OHHH, AAAHHHH,' she said and came.
A few strokes later, I filled the condom with my juice. Our lips met in a kiss. When the kiss broke, I was hard again and fucked her again. As it was getting late, she left.
At breakfast the next day, I asked Nira to buy me a new pencil from the school shop, showing her the broken pencil. She inspected the broken pencil and said, 'I see that you were trying to eat it.'
'Yes, something like that,' I laughed.
'Well, there are many other things to eat,' she replied, pointing towards her pussy.
'I know, but will you buy it?' I said.
Just then Rani joined us and asked, 'What are you asking her to buy?'
She blushed as I told her what I wanted Nira to do.
The first thing that Rani said that night when she came was, 'Why did you ask Nira to buy the pencil? It was so embarrassing. You could have asked me.'
'How does it matter? She doesn't know how it broke. Anyway, I got what I wanted,' I replied, waving a new pencil at her, 'Now hurry and get into bed.'
She enjoyed fucking very much. She did not want to do anything else but fuck every night. Normally, we fucked twice before she left.
One night when she was having her period, I asked her to suck my cock. 'No, I won't, it is dirty,' she said.
'Suit yourself,' I said, 'then I will not lick your choot.'
She thought for a minute and then sucked my cock. After she had swallowed my cum, I asked, 'How was it?'
'Terrible, slimy and very salty,' she said, making a face.
'Don't worry, soon you will get used to the taste,' I laughed. By the time her period was over, she liked the taste.
For a month, I enjoyed Rani's choot at night and ate Nira's pussy in the daytime. One day while I was licking Nira's pussy, I had an overwhelming desire to fuck her tight choot.
'Nira, don't go to school tomorrow,' I said.
'Why? I have an important class tomorrow,' she replied.
'Is it more important than losing your cherry?' I said with a naughty smile.
'WHAT! Are you really going to fuck me?' she said, jumping with joy.
'No, I want you to watch while I fuck Rani,' I said sarcastically.
'Don't you dare. I will remain at home,' she promised.
In the morning when I joined the girls for breakfast, I saw that Nira was still in her night suit. 'Nira, hurry up and get ready, otherwise you will miss the school bus,' I said loudly for the benefit of whosoever was listening.
'I am not going to school today. I have a terrible headache. I think I am coming down with flu,' she replied.
'Poor dear, finish your milk and go to bed. If you are not better by tomorrow, then I will take you to a doctor,' Seema said and went into the kitchen.
'You asked me not to go to school, and you are going to college,' she whispered, seeing me dressed for the street.
'I am pretending to go to college for your mama's benefit. I will return as soon as she leaves for shopping,' I whispered and loudly added, 'Get well soon.'
When I returned, Nira was impatiently waiting for me. 'Shall I undress?' she suggested.
'Yes. Undress, go, and take a shower. I will join you soon,' I said.
'Why in the shower?' she asked.
'In case we are surprised, then I can jump out of the window and be out of sight in no time,' I replied.
Undressing, I went to the linen cupboard and, choosing a deep red towel, entered the bathroom. I saw Nira in the shower. It was the first time that I had seen her completely naked. I feasted my eyes on her small child-like boobs. Her cunt was covered with short black silken hair. Her cunt lips were stuck together with the tiny clitoris peeping out from between them.
With my cock in the air, I joined her in the shower. 'You are looking very beautiful,' I said, kissing her and ran my fingers between her cunt lips.
'Aapka laurda bahut barda hai. Meri choti si choot main kaisse gussega (Your cock is very big. How will it enter my small cunt),' she said, taking my erect cock in her hands.
'Like a hot knife through butter. Come, I will show you,' I replied.
I spread the towel on the floor and asked her to lie down. She lay down. Picking up her legs, I placed them on my shoulders and, aiming my cock at her small choot, I said, 'It will hurt a little.' Before she could reply, I gave a mighty push.
'AAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE,' she screamed at the top of her voice, as my cock tore through her maidenhood and buried itself in her choot. Her scream was music to my ears.
I started to fuck her. Her choot was very tight. She reminded me of Bela. Suddenly, I remembered her word; "I am old enough to have children."
'Don't move. Stay where you are. I will be back in no time,' I said, withdrawing my blood-stained cock and ran into my room with my cock standing like a pole.
When I returned, I saw her sitting and examining her choot with the help of a mirror. 'What are you doing?' I asked.
'Look what you have done. You have made my choot bleed,' she said, showing me her bleeding cunt.'Pagali, jab ek ladki ki choot phat ti hai to us mein se khoon
nikal ta hai. Ab jaldi se let ja (Stupid girl, when a girl loses her cherry
she bleeds. Now lie down quickly),' I explained.
She was not convinced. 'Promise you won't hurt me anymore,' she asked.
'Promise. I won't hurt you ever again,' I said, reassuring her.
As soon as she lay down, I entered her and commenced to fuck her at a
furious pace. 'Stop, you are hurting me,' she said as my cock rubbed
against the torn edges of her hymen.
'It will go away,' I replied, fucking her tight cunt with the speed of
an express train. After a few minutes, she stopped complaining of pain.
After ten minutes or so, I ejaculated my cum in the condom and lay gasping
on her.
'If you have had your fun, then get off me,' she said, sarcastically.
'You didn't enjoy it?' I asked.
'No. I thought fucking is very nice, but I have experienced nothing but
pain,' she said.
'Yes, fucking is very enjoyable. You will feel the pleasure when I fuck
you again,' I said.
'You are not going to fuck me again. Now get off,' she said, trying to
dislodge me.
In the struggle, I was hard again and started to fuck her. She struggled
to get free. Holding her tightly, I continued to move in and out of her
choot. 'Babu, please let me go,' she pleaded.
When I refused, she renewed her efforts to get free. Slowly, the
intensity of her struggle became less and less. 'Oh Babu,' she moaned and
her struggle ceased.
'Is it nice?' I asked, without missing a stroke.
'Y...es. Oh y...es,' she moaned loudly.
'Oh, it is lovely,' she moaned, moving her hips in the rhythm of my
stroke.
My sperm was rising. My strokes became faster and shorter. Suddenly
her body arched. 'BABU, GO ON. DON'T STOP. I AM ABOUT TO COME. OH I
AMMM COMMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGGG,' she screamed and fell back panting. After a
few strokes with a loud grunt, I also came.
'Did you enjoy it,' I asked, kissing her.
'Oh, it was heavenly. I have never cum like this before. Babu, please
fuck me again,' she pleaded.
'No, not now, we'll fuck tomorrow. Your mama will be returning soon,' I
said, getting up.
We had a quick shower together, and after that, I left.
As I reached the crossing, I spotted Seema's car coming. I ducked out of
sight. Then, buying Seema's paan, I returned to the flat.
Seema was in Nira's room. I overheard Nira say, '...mama, what is the
harm. I was feeling much better, therefore I had a shower.'
To divert Seema's attention, I said, 'Seema, your paan.'
'Thank you, Babu, you are early today,' she said.
'The professor was sick,' I said.
'It must be the viral fever one hears so much about,' she said and went
into the kitchen to put the paan in the refrigerator.
I quickly peeped into the bathroom to see if everything was all right.
The towel was still on the floor. I picked it up and put it with other
clothes meant for washing.
After that day, I fucked her regularly. One day, I asked her to suck my
cock. She readily took my cock and sucked it. 'It is quite good,' she
said, smacking her lips.
Life was good. I was fucking Rani at night and Nira in the afternoon.
Everyone was happy. Rani was happy, Nira was happy, and I was happy.
One night, after Rani had left and I was preparing to go to bed, there
was a knock on the door. I opened the door and was surprised to see Seema.
'What are you doing here at this time of the night?' I asked her.
'Babu, I have a severe headache. I can't sleep. Will you rub some balm
on it,' she replied.
'Of course,' I told her, following her to her room.
After giving me the bottle of balm, she lay down on the bed. I started
rubbing balm on her forehead when my eyes fell on her boobs. She was lying
in such a way that her left tit was clearly visible. I stopped rubbing and
stared at her boob. She saw that I was staring at her boob.
'It is big and beautiful, isn't it?' she asked, laughing.
'I am sorry,' I mumbled, embarrassed, and continued with my task.
'Don't be shy. Take them in your hands,' she said, opening all the
buttons of her night suit. Hesitatingly, I reached out and cupped them.
'OH YES!' she moaned, 'Oh Babu, kiss them.'
I couldn't believe my luck and kissed her boobs.
'Good, now suck my nipples. In the meanwhile, I will check if the saying
is correct or not,' she giggled, grabbing my cock.
'What is the saying?' I asked out of curiosity.
'The saying says that a man with a big nose has a big cock,' she
replied, taking my cock out of the pajamas.
'My God! What a monster!' she exclaimed and taking off her pajamas,
added, 'Babu, give it to me.'
'Is the saying correct?' I said, undressing and getting between her
legs.
'No, it is not. According to the saying, your nose should be longer,'
she giggled, 'Babu, don't waste time and fuck me.' I pushed my cock in her
wet choot.
'AAAHHH, my first cock in two years,' she moaned.
'Is there a saying about a woman's cunt?' I said, giving her a couple of
strokes.
'The saying goes that the mouth is a woman's cunt's measure,' she moaned.
'The saying is correct. Your choot is quite tight,' I said.
'For a cock of your size, all cunts would be tight,' she said, 'Babu,
fuck me now. We'll talk later.'
I started to fuck her with long, slow strokes. She gripped my cock with
the muscles of her cunt and moved them in such a manner that I felt they
are milking me. I continued to move in and out of her choot.
After ten minutes, she said, 'FASTER, BABU FASTER.' I increased the speed
of the strokes. Her hips were moving in rhythm with my strokes.
'Y...ES, Y...ES THAT IS THE WAY. FUCK ME HARDER,' she cried. I
complied. Suddenly, her body arched.
'Y...ES THAT IS THE WAY. GOD! I AM ABOUT TO COME. GO ON. DON'T
STOP. I AM NEARLY THERE. MY GOD! OH, OH OHHH I AMMM
COOOMMMMMIIIINNNNNNGGGGG,' she shouted and fell back gasping for breath.
Although I had fucked Rani twice that night, the excitement of fucking
a woman of my mother's age was too much for me, and I shot my load after a
few strokes.
After we had regained our breath, Seema said, 'Babu, tell me honestly, do
you prefer to fuck a young choot or a mature choot.'
It seemed like a trick question, so I decided to answer it
diplomatically. 'Both of them have their individual charm,' I answered.
'Very clever reply,' she laughed, 'all right, I will ask directly. Rani
must have screamed very loudly when you stuck this monster in her for the
first time.'
'My God, she knows about Rani,' I thought.
But aloud, I stuttered, 'Rani...no, I haven't....'
'Don't lie to me. I know you are fucking her,' she said.
My mind was in turmoil. How could she find out? We had been very
careful. She was surely bluffing. 'You are wrong. Rani is still a
virgin,' I said.
'Okay, listen,' Seema said, 'Fifteen days ago, when I was eating my after
dinner paan, I, by mistake, dropped it. I saw two white pills, which had
no business to be there, roll out of it. I retrieved them. The next day, I
confronted the paanwallah (man who sells paan). He swore that he had not
put them in my paan. I then went to the chemist. It was difficult for him
to tell, but he said that they looked like sleeping pills.'
'I wondered why you wanted me to sleep soundly. So I kept a watch that
night. I saw Rani go into your room. I crept to your door and listened.
From the sounds Rani was making, I was convinced that you were fucking her.
After half an hour or so, Rani left with a satisfied smile on her face.
Since then, I have seen Rani entering your room at night several times.'
In the meanwhile, my mind was working at the speed of light. I knew that
she knew. She had discovered that I was fucking Rani fifteen days ago, yet
she did not mention it and let me fuck her. What does this mean? This
means that she did not mind my fucking Rani. By the same logic, she will
not mind my screwing Nira also. Yes, that is what I would do. I will tell
her the truth. Then I can fuck them both without fear of discovery.
'What are you thinking? Answer my question,' she said.
'What question?' I said, trying to stall the issue.
'Did Rani scream very loudly when you deflowered her,' she said,
smiling.
'Not as loudly as Nira did when I fucked her for the first time,' I
replied, truthfully.
'What! You have fucked her too,' she asked, surprised.
'Yes, I am fucking both of them,' I said.
'My, my, this monster has been quite busy,' she giggled, 'and now it has
fucked their mother also.'
'I hope you are not angry,' I asked.
'What is the use of my getting angry when you have already taken their
virginity,' she said, 'Fuck them as often as you like, but for God's sake
don't knock them up. I have no wish to be a grandmother at my age.'
After some time, she asked, 'Shall I go now?'
'No, fuck me once more, then you can go,' she said.
When I was leaving, she said, 'Babu, come tomorrow, I will be waiting.'
Life couldn't be better. I was having a great time fucking all three. I
was glad that abbu insisted that I come here.
One day, Seema said, 'Tumne kabhie kissi ladki ki gaand maari hai?
(Have you fucked a girl in the asshole?)'
'Pagal hogayi ho? Koi ladki ki bhi gaand maarta hai (Are you mad?
Nobody fucks a girl in the asshole),' I said, laughing.
'I am serious. Try it, you will love it. My husband loves fucking me in
the asshole,' she said.
'He does, does he? All right, I'll give it a try. Turn around,' I
said.
'Here, take this vaseline and apply it on my asshole. Then enter very
slowly. Otherwise, you will hurt me. You are so big,' she said.
After applying the vaseline, I placed my cock on her asshole and pressed.
'Slowly, very slowly, yes that's the way,' she groaned. I pressed further
and felt her asshole opening.
Oh stop.'Stop, Babu, you are hurting me,' she cried. She breathed a sigh of relief as I stopped.
'Let me try one more time,' I suggested, applying more Vaseline.
'All right, but do it gently,' she said, getting into position.
This time I did not care about the niceties. I placed my cock at the entrance and pushed hard. 'AAAAAYYYIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE,' she screamed, 'you rascal, I told you to do it gently and not shove your cock in, in one stroke.'
'The main point is that I am in,' I laughed and started the fuck motion.
After ten minutes, she started to moan. 'Quick, rub my choot,' she panted. I rubbed her choot while fucking her asshole.
'Oh my God! It is heavenly. I am coming. OH OH OHHHH GOD I AMM COOOMMMIIINNNGGGG,' she shouted.
The tightness of her rear entrance took its toll. A few strokes later, I also released my load in her.
'You were right. I really enjoyed it,' I panted, kissing her, 'I can hardly wait to fuck Rani and Nira's asshole.'
'Don't do it now. Do it later. They are very young. You are too big. You might hurt them,' she said.
'Okay, as you say,' I said, disappointed.
'Promise,' she asked.
'Yeah, promise,' I answered.
One day, Seema said, 'Babu, you can't go on like this. You have got to think about your health.'
'My health is fine,' I laughed, 'let me fuck all three of you as long as I can.'
'No, your health is very important to me. What will I tell your mother if you fall sick,' she said, 'Tell the girls, they'll surely listen to reason,' she replied.
'That is what you think? They are very possessive. If they find out about each other, then I will lose both of them. This I don't want,' I said.
We were silent for some time. 'The ideal solution will be if you fuck us all together,' Seema said.
'Yes, but it is not possible,' I laughed.
A week later, Seema got a pamphlet in the mail from the girl's school. It was about a computer course. 'This is perfect for you,' she told Nira at lunch.
Nira read it and said, 'I don't want to do computers.'
Seema tried her best to convince her but in vain. 'Babu, you tell her that computers are the future,' she said, throwing up her hands. I also tried my best, but I could not move her.
When we were alone, I asked her about it. 'And give up fucking, no way,' she replied. I told this to Seema.
'I thought so too. I think I will have to do something about it.' Seema said, mysteriously.
One night, Rani and I were resting after the first fuck when Nira barged into my room. 'Babu, have you seen...?' she said, then taking the whole scene in one glance, her eyes widened and exclaimed, 'My God! You are fucking her also.'
Rani jumped out of the bed and said, 'what do you mean by also? Oh my God! He is fucking you too.'
Then they started to fight over me. After five minutes of verbal battle, Rani said, 'Why are we fighting over him?'
'Yes, you are right. Actually, it is his fault,' Nira said.
Then both turned on me. Seema's words rang in my mind. This was the right opportunity. I heard them for a few minutes, then raised my hand.
'Ladies, please listen. I am not at fault. This is your real culprit,' I said, pointing to my erection, 'When it sees a beautiful girl, it raises its head and wants to get inside her choot. If you agree, then I will cut it off. Thus removing the root cause of your complaint.'
They immediately grabbed my cock and said, 'No, you can't cut my darling off.'
'You both love my cock, then why don't you put an end to this secrecy,' I said.
'What do you mean?' Nira asked.
'All three of us can fuck together. I will come to your bedroom daily and fuck you both an equal number of times,' I suggested.
They both thought for some time, while I kept my fingers crossed.
'Yes, let us do that,' Nira said, at last.
'No, I don't trust her. She might sneak a fuck in the afternoon when I am at school,' Rani said.
'Trust me, she won't. It requires two to fuck. You have my word. I repeat, I promise to fuck you an equal number of times,' I said.
'Okay, if you assure me, then I agree,' Rani said.
'Fine, this agreement starts now. You have fucked Rani once, now it is my turn,' Nira said, undressing.
'See, what did I tell you? She wants to take advantage of the situation. She got fucked in the afternoon and wants to be fucked again,' Rani said.
'No, she didn't. I was busy and did not come home till late,' I said. I fucked Nira. Then fucked both of them again before they left.
'Thank goodness it is settled,' I said, entering Seema's room.
'What is settled?' she asked.
'The matter of the girls. It is a mystery to me that Nira surprised Rani and me in bed,' I replied.
'Really?' Seema said with a smile.
I told her what had transpired. 'Don't blame yourself. Nothing went wrong. Last week, I searched Rani's belongings and found the bottle of sleeping pills. I substituted most of them with harmless pills,' she laughed.
'Why did you do it?' I asked.
'I was worried about your health,' she said.
'You could have at least warned me,' I complained.
'And lose the surprise factor?' she laughed, 'I knew that you will be able to cope with them.'
After ten days or so, she said, 'Now I plan to catch you in the act. On Saturday, I want you to go to them as usual, but do not start fucking before eleven.' She said.
'Then what?' I asked.
'Wait and see,' she laughed.
'Are you sure that nothing will go wrong?' I asked.
'Don't worry,' she laughed, 'you will continue to enjoy all three of us.'
On Saturday, I went to their room at five minutes to eleven. They were waiting for me naked. Undressing, I got into bed and took Rani in my arms and kissed her.
'Oh Babu,' she moaned, 'fuck me.' I got on top of her and started to fuck her with slow strokes.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Seema walked in, clad in her pajama suit. 'Rani...My God! What is going on?' Seema said, seeing me humping Rani.
'Rani, it is mama,' Nira warned, pulling a sheet over her nakedness.
'Oh my God! Get off me,' Rani exclaimed, dislodging me and trying to cover herself.
I lay panting on my back with my cock in the air. Seema pretended to see my cock for the first time. 'Oh, what a magnificent cock, I want it. Give it to me,' Seema said, taking off her pajamas and impaling herself on my erect cock.
'It feels great to have a cock inside me after two years,' she moaned and started the in and out motion.
Both the girls watched with their mouths open. After a few strokes, she got off and pulled off the condom I was wearing, in one swift stroke.
'Ah, this is better,' she moaned, getting on top of me again. She continued to fuck me till we both came with shouts of pleasure.
'I admire your courage, especially Nira's, for taking this monster in your virgin cunts,' she panted.
'Oh mama,' they said.
'Do you want to keep fucking Babu?' Seema asked.
'You are not upset with us?' Rani said.
'Your choots have already been plugged. What is the use of getting angry now? Answer my question,' she asked.
'Oh yes,' both answered.
'All right, but I will make the rules. Are you agreeable,' Seema said.
'Yes, mama, whatever you say,' both responded.
'First, we all will sleep in my bedroom. Babu will fuck both of you once only. Are you still with me?' Seema said. Both nodded but not so enthusiastically.
'Second, to be hundred percent sure you don't get pregnant, you will take birth control pills from tomorrow. I have no desire to be a grandmother at my age, besides, it is more fun.
'Third, the hair on your choot does not give a neat appearance. You will keep it shaved like mine. Lastly, Nira, you will join the computer course. Agreed,' she said.
She had no alternative but to agree. 'Yes,' Nira murmured.
The new regime was implemented immediately. At night, we all slept together. On weekdays, I fucked them once each, but on weekends, we fucked till we dropped.
'Babu, fuck me in the ass,' Seema said to me one afternoon.
'What about the rules?' I asked.
'They are for the girls and not for me,' she laughed.
After fucking her in her gaand (asshole), I asked, 'Seem, aren't you going to teach the girls how to eat pussy?'
'Yes, I will on Sunday,' She replied.
On Sunday afternoon, when I was resting after fucking all three of them, Seema said, 'Girls, today I am going to teach you how to eat pussy. Which one of you would like to be the first to lick my choot? Rani, you?'
'Mama, please, not your choot, it is dirty,' Rani replied, screwing up her face.
'Try it, you will like it. In the beginning, I also thought like you, but when I tried it, I liked it,' I said.
'I couldn't do it. Ask Nira. She loves the taste of cum,' Rani said.
'I will deal with you later,' Seema said, glaring at Rani, then turning to Nira, added, 'Nira, what about you? Would you like to lick my choot?'
'Lick your choot?' Nira said, 'Why not, but you will have to tell me how.'
'Good girl. First, crouch between my legs and separate my choot lips.' Nira did what Seema said.
'Now lick my choot from top to bottom,' Seema instructed.
Nira stuck out her tongue and gave Seema's choot a couple of tentative licks.
'Do it properly,' Seema said, angrily. Nira licked her properly.
'Oh, it feels very nice,' Seema moaned, 'continue licking for some time, then move upwards towards my clit. Swirl your tongue around it, then take it between your lips and bite on it lightly.'
'OOOOO,' Seema screamed as Nira attacked her clit.
'Now move down towards my cunt hole,' Seema moaned. Nira complied.
'Y...hes that's my girl, now stick your tongue inside the hole,' Seema moaned.
'AGHRR,' Seema growled as Nira stuck her tongue inside Seema's fuck hole, 'Deeper, girl, deeper. My choot will not bite your tongue off.Nira strained to go deeper.
'Y..es, y..es. Good, now tongue fuck me,' Seema moaned.
This went on for ten minutes or so. Seema's moans got louder and louder until she shouted, 'I AM ABOUT TO CUM.'
Instinctively, Nira tried to remove her head, but Seema caught it and pressed it to her choot, yelling, 'NO, NO DON'T STOP. CONTINUE TO TONGUE FUCK ME. I AM THERE. OH, OHHH I AM COMMMMIIIINNNNGGGGGG,' and came in Nira's open mouth.
Nira lapped up her cunt juice greedily. 'Darling, you were very good,' Seema said, embracing Nira and kissing her all over her face.
'How was it?' I asked.
'I loved it,' Nira replied, smacking her lips. Then, turning to Seema, asked, 'Shall I eat your choot again?'
'No, now Rani is going to do it. Rani, crouch between my legs,' Seema said, spreading her legs.
'Mama, please, I don't want to,' she pleaded. 'Would you like Babu to fuck you?' Seema asked. 'Oh yes,' Rani replied, smiling brightly.
'You stupid girl, then lick my choot or your next fuck will be when you get married, that is if you are able to find a husband,' Seema threatened.
'Oh no,' Rani wailed.
'Oh yes,' Seema said, mimicking her.
Reluctantly, Rani crouched between Seema's legs and gave her choot a couple of exploratory licks.
'It is not bad. Actually, it is very good,' she said, licking Seema's choot vigorously. When they had finished, Seema panted, 'Now you two eat each other's pussy and Babu will fuck me.'
Without a word, they sixty-nined, and I fucked Seema. When we finished, Seema said, 'Rani, no fucking or cunt licking for you for one week.'
'Mama, why?' Rani complained.
'Because you did not obey me,' Seema said.
'That is not fair. I ate your pussy later,' Rani said, starting to cry.
'Seema, please don't be too harsh on Rani,' I intervened.
'No, she has to be punished for disobeying me. Just because of you, I'll make it three days, and that is final.'
The routine after that day was that when I fucked one of them, then the other two sixty-nined.
During exams, the schedule was disrupted, but once they were over, we returned to our normal routine. Then one day, Seema announced that Uncle Mohan was coming on Sunday.
Uncle Mohan arrived. I had not seen him in many years. Uncle Mohan was tall and slim. His handshake was firm.
There was a lot of excitement on his return. He told us of his experiences and distributed presents. We talked till midnight, then decided to go to bed.
I had just finished changing my clothes when both the girls walked in naked and asked, 'Aren't you coming or would you like to fuck us here?'
'Not tonight, your father might catch us,' I replied.
'He has returned from Dubai after two years, do you think he will have time to catch us?' Rani laughed.
'Yeah, he will be too busy fucking mama to think of us,' Nira giggled.
'You're right. You go, I will join you in a minute,' I said. I fucked them two times each that night.
In the morning, when the girls had left for school, Seema said, 'Babu, your uncle wants to talk to you.'
For the first fifteen minutes, we talked about my parents and things of general interest, then, out of the blue, he said, 'Seema was telling me that in my absence, you raped her.'
I was aghast.
'No, I did not. She invited me to her room and asked me to fuck her,' I explained.
He looked at Seema and said, 'What do you have to say?'
'Mohan, would a married woman confess of sleeping with another person to her husband if she were doing it willingly? No, definitely not. This is what happened. One night, he came into my room and said, "Kapdre uttar, main tujhe aaj chodunga (Take off your clothes. Today I am going to fuck you)."'
'That is not true,' I protested.
'Let her finish,' Uncle Mohan said, 'Continue.'
'I refused, but he used force. I did not scream for fear of waking the girls. I tried to fight him off silently. He, being stronger than me, forcibly shoved his big cock in my choot. Then he came every night and fucked me silly with his huge cock,' she finished.
'If this is true, then why did she not report me to the police,' I pointed out.
'Yes, he has a point there,' Uncle Mohan said, looking at Seema.
'I did not go to the police because of the pain it would have caused your friends,' she replied.
'That was good thinking,' Uncle Mohan said.
'Wait a minute. Why did she allow me to fuck her on the following nights?' I said triumphantly.
'I had to. I was living alone with two young daughters. He could have easily murdered us in our beds if I refused,' she said, starting to sob softly.
'She is lying. The fact is that she called me to her room and seduced me,' I pleaded.
'Babu, I didn't expect this from you. We offered you hospitality because you were the son of a friend, and you did this,' Uncle Mohan said, shaking his head.
'Uncle, I don't know why she is lying, but the truth of the matter is that she asked me to fuck her. Why are you doing this to me?' I said, glaring at her.
'I did not tell you yesterday...oh, it's so humiliating...I can't tell you,' she said, continuing to sob.
'Don't be afraid, tell me,' Uncle Mohan prompted her.
'H...H...He fucked me in the asshole. I pleaded with him, but he did not listen and shoved his big cock in my asshole and fucked it. It hurt so much that I nearly died with pain,' she said, caressing her butt.
'Y...eh Y...eh Yeh jhoot bol rahi hai. Mujhe nahin maloom tha ki lardkiyon ki gaand bhi maarte hain. Issne kaha tha ki try karke dekho. Bahut mazaa aayega (I...I...I...did not even know that one fucks girls in the asshole also. She invited me to try. It is very enjoyable),' I stuttered, perspiring.
'Oh my God! He fucked you in your asshole also,' Uncle Mohan exclaimed, 'even I haven't fucked her in her asshole.'
'See, this proves she is lying. She told me that you had fucked her many times in the asshole and you loved it,' I said, triumphantly.
Uncle got up and started walking up and down. Then he stopped behind me and said, 'Babu, Babu what have you done? What will I tell your father? He will be shattered.'
'Do you know that he has also deflowered your daughters?' Seema said.
'WHAT! He has deflowered my innocent daughters?' he shouted, taking my head in a stranglehold.
I was shit scared and struggled to get free from his grip.
'You have fucked Nira? She is still so young,' he said, pulling me to my feet by the neck.
Now I was perspiring freely. Uncle was like a mad man. He could do anything in his present state. Before I could reply, Seema said, 'Yes, he did not spare Nira. He did not care for her age and shoved his big cock in Nira's cunt.'
'MY GOD BABU! I WILL KILL YOU,' Uncle Mohan shouted, picking up a knife from the sideboard and placing it on my throat.
'Please, listen to me,' I managed to say, fearing for my life.
'Have you fucked my daughters or not?' he asked.
'Yes, but...' I started to say when he interrupted me.
'Enough. Seema, you are a witness that he has confessed. I am going to kill you now,' Uncle Mohan said, pressing the knife against my throat.
I thought my last moment has come. I closed my eyes and waited for the knife to do its work. Suddenly, Seema shouted, 'WAIT! LISTEN TO ME BEFORE YOU KILL HIM.'
To be continued... | 3 |
103,635 | BAM WHAM THANK YOU MA'AM | 'I am okay,' Bela replied, without a glance at me, 'smoke went into my eyes while cooking. I must have rubbed them too hard.'
'In case the redness persists, tell me, I will give you some eye drops,' ammi offered.
'Thank you, I'll ask if I require them,' Bela replied.
God! What a relief! I relaxed and sat comfortably in my chair. The smile returned to my lips, so did my appetite. I started to heap my plate with biryani. 'Babu, taste the biryani first before you fill your plate. I had to go out in the morning...'
'So this is the reason ammi didn't hear Bela's deafening scream,' I thought.
'...and therefore had asked Bela to cook it,' ammi said, 'it is her first time...'
'This is not the only first time for her today,' I thought, smiling to myself.
'... if you like it, then in the future you can enjoy biryani cooked by her,' ammi finished.
'Don't worry, ammi, I will enjoy Bela's tight choot in the future as well,' I thought, taking a spoonful.
'It is very tasty,' I said.
After a hearty meal, I told Bela to bring a bottle of coke to my room before she went to rest.
After half an hour or so, Bela came to my room with a bottle of coke. 'Good girl. I am glad you didn't tell ammi,' I said, patting her head.
'How could I? You had told me not to tell anybody,' she replied, innocently.
'Good, now get on the bed and show me your choot,' I told her.
'No, I won't,' she replied, 'you'll hurt me again.'
Her refusal angered me. I caught her by the base of her hair and, pulling her face to mine, said, menacingly, 'How dare you say no to me? I'll fuck you when I want, where I want, and as often as I want, understood?' She nodded with tears in her eyes.
'Now do what I told you,' I said, brusquely.
Hesitatingly, she got on the bed and, pulling up her lehenga, raised her legs in the air. Her cunt looked so inviting that I dropped my pants and fucked her with the speed of an express train.
When I had finished, I asked, 'Did you enjoy it?'
'No,' she replied.
'Never mind. You go now, and don't lock your room at night. I will come up and fuck you some more, understood?' I said.
'You are a bad man,' she said and ran out of the room.
At night, when I reached her room, I found that the door was open and Bela was fast asleep on her cot. I undressed and got into the bed with her. I put one hand under her lehenga and rubbed her choot while with the other I squeezed her boobs.
'W...What? W...Who? Oh, it is you,' she screamed, waking up with a start.
'Of course it is I. Were you expecting someone else?' I replied, laughing.
'What do you want?' she asked, rubbing her eyes.
'Don't act cute. You know what I want. Now get up and take your clothes off,' I said tersely.
I watched her undress. When she was naked, she looked hesitatingly towards the open door.
'What the hell are you waiting for, get into bed,' I said, harshly, and pointing to my erect member, added, 'can't you see, my cock is waiting impatiently to get inside your choot.'
That night I fucked her thrice, and when I was ready to leave, I asked, 'Mazaa aaya? (Did you enjoy it?)'
'No!' she replied. I shrugged it off, thinking that maybe she is still too young and will feel pleasure when she is older.
'Bela, when I come up, I am keen to fuck you and don't want to waste time till you undress. Therefore, from tomorrow, I want you to wait for me naked. Understood?'
The next day, I banged her twice during the day, and when I came to her room at night, she was awake but still dressed.
'Why aren't you naked?' I asked, getting annoyed. 'I tried, but I felt so exposed and uncomfortable,' she replied, 'You won't have to wait. I will be ready for you before you undress.'
True to her word, she was, on her back, naked, with legs in the air, ready to receive my prodder before I had finished undressing.
Before leaving, I again asked the same question. 'No, I don't feel any pleasure,' she replied.
Next afternoon, I banged her once before leaving to meet my friends. Mac and Jas were waiting for me, but there was no sign of Ravi.
'Babu, would you like to start or wait for Ravi?' Mac asked.
'Let us wait for Ravi, he should be here any minute,' I said, 'Jas, how did your admission go?' I asked.
'Just fine. I start in four weeks' time. What about you, Mac?' Jas said.
'I have joined as an Article Clerk with a Chartered Accountant firm in the city. I will be leaving in a fortnight to join them,' Mac replied.
Just then, Ravi joined us. 'What is this important news that couldn't wait? You know, afternoon is a bad time for me,' Ravi said, sarcastically.
'Ravi, can't you for once forgo fucking your mother to be with friends,' Jas chided Ravi.
'No, it isn't that,' Ravi replied, blushing.
'Of course it is,' I said, 'I won't take long, and you will still have plenty of time to screw your mama silly.'
'Enough, let us hear what Babu has to tell us,' Mac said, focusing on the purpose of our meeting.
'Guys, I am no longer a virgin. Three days ago, I screwed Bela, our maid,' I said, importantly and related what had happened in detail.
'Congratulations!' they echoed as I beamed proudly at them.
'Is it the same maid you said was very young,' Jas asked.
'Yeah, but she is not so young as I thought. She is nearly thirteen,' I replied, grinning broadly.
'My God, man, you stuck your cock into the choot of a thirteen-year-old girl?' Mac asked incredulously.
'And why not? It felt great,' I replied, laughing.
'Don't you realize that you could have killed her or harmed her permanently,' Mac continued.
'Why do you say that? Remember, Ravi told us that his granddad had screwed his granny when she was only twelve,' I replied.
'Babu, you idiot,' Ravi said, 'I told you that my granny married at the age of twelve. My granddad screwed her only when she came to live with him. She was then fifteen or so.'
'Gosh! I misunderstood you, but she is okay,' I said, glancing towards the sky in silent prayer, 'I have screwed her a dozen times. The last time was just before I left home today.'
'I hope you are taking precautions, like using a condom,' Mac asked.
'Whatever for? She is only thirteen, too young to get pregnant,' I replied, confidently.
'Don't be so sure, it varies from girl to girl,' Jas said, 'Minu told me that she was ready to bear children before she turned thirteen.'
'God! My parents will kill me if she gets pregnant?' I wailed.
'Or make you marry that illiterate village lass,' Ravi laughed, sarcastically.
'What shall I do?' I asked, panicking.
'No need to panic,' Mac advised, 'Firstly, in the future, use a condom, and secondly, go home and ask her if she has had her period. If yes, then wait till she misses one. If she misses one, then...'
'Don't worry, she will not get pregnant,' Ravi announced, interrupting Mac.
'What makes you so sure?' Jas asked.
'Firstly, Babu is not so stupid to have fucked her without a condom, and secondly, he has not fucked her. His story is a bunch of lies,' Ravi said, smugly.
'Believe me, guys, I tell you, I have fucked her,' I replied, appealing to the others.
'Wait a moment,' Mac said, 'Let us hear what Ravi has to say.'
'Yes, go on, tell us how you came to that conclusion?' Jas said.
'Okay, let us analyze his story. The gist of his story is that he surprised Bela when she was naked in the bathroom and, carrying her to her room, raped her,' Ravi said, pausing dramatically.
'So what? It is the truth,' I asked.
'Don't you see. He has taken the maid from Mac's story, the bathroom sequence from Jas's, and the rape from mine,' Ravi explained, 'then adding some local color, has come up with his cleverly woven story.'
'What he says does make sense,' Jas murmured.
'Guys, don't listen to him,' I protested, 'I tell you, I have fucked her.'
'I bet if we were to go to his house, we will find that Bela is still a virgin and would not even let him touch her,' Ravi added.
'It is quite possible,' Mac said. 'What is wrong with you guys, don't you believe me?' I said, getting angry.
'Frankly no, till you convince us,' Ravi said.
'Do you want me to prove to you that I have really fucked her?' I asked, incredulously. 'Yes, something like that,' Ravi said, smiling wickedly.
I was livid. 'All right."Come to my house tomorrow at three and I will prove it to you," I shouted, and before leaving, I couldn't resist a parting shot at Ravi, "You'll have to miss out on your mother's choot tomorrow also."
On my way home, I thought over the events of the afternoon. I was furious and hurt. I couldn't believe that my friends thought I was lying and wanted proof. Proving it won't pose any problem as Bela was very submissive and cooperative, but still, they had no business to disbelieve me.
The thought uppermost in my mind was whether Bela was or could become pregnant. To ensure that I have safe sex with her, I stopped on the way and bought a packet of condoms.
That night when Bela and I were lying in her bed, I said, "Bela, I am going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them truthfully."
"Bhaiya, I never lie to you," she replied.
"Have you had your period?" I asked.
"What is that?" she replied, innocently.
"You know when blood comes out of your choot," I explained.
My heart sank when she nodded.
"Since when?" I asked.
"Sirf ek din, jab aapne mujhe paheli baar choda tha (Only once, when you fucked me for the first time)," she replied.
"Not that, you silly goose. I know about that," I said, elated, "Has your choot ever bled for three or four days continuously?"
"No, never," she replied. "Oh Bela, you have made me so happy," I said, embracing and kissing her.
"Why do you ask?" she said. "Just like that. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," I said and, climbing over her, screwed her.
The following day after lunch, I told Bela that some friends will be coming, and she should stay in case they require something. At three sharp, the trio arrived. I asked Bela to serve cold drinks and snacks.
"Bela, these are my friends Mac, Jas, and Ravi," I said.
"Namaste," Bela said, greeting them with folded hands.
"Bela, I want you to show them your boobs," I continued.
"What did you say?" Bela asked, surprised at my strange request.
"You heard me. Unbutton your blouse," I said, tersely. Hesitatingly, Bela undid her buttons.
"Aren't they pretty?" I said, caressing and kissing her tits.
"Gosh, they are beautiful," Jas said.
I could see the bulge in their pants. "Bela, now lift your lehenga and show them your choot," I said.
"Bhaiya, please don't make me do it," Bela protested, with tears in her eyes.
"Bela, show your choot," I said sternly. She obeyed with tears running down her cheeks.
The trio stared at her naked hairless cunt.
"Separate your legs," I said, running my fingers through her lower lips. She complied. I pushed two fingers in her choot and finger-fucked her.
"Is this proof enough or would you like me to stick my cock in her choot and fuck her in front of you?" I asked sarcastically.
"It is more than enough. We are sorry that we doubted you," Mac said, apologetically.
"Bela, you can drop your lehenga and button up," I said.
"Babu, stop her. Ask her to undress. I want to fuck her," Ravi said, "Don't you guys?"
"Better ask Babu first," Mac advised.
"Babu won't refuse. He is our friend," Ravi said.
"I am your friend, but are you my friends? Did I ask you to prove your stories? No! I believed them. If you had been my friends, then you would have believed me in the first instance," I said, seething with anger.
"Come on, man, forget it, it was a misunderstanding," Jas said, trying to calm me.
"Yeah, he's right. It was a misunderstanding," Ravi said, unzipping his fly, "I am ready to fuck her."
"Like hell you will fuck her!" I said, drawing Bela closer to me, "Jas, do you remember what you said when I requested to persuade Minu to cooperate with me? Go fuck your own sister, right? Ravi told me to fuck my mother, and Mac advised me to fuck my maid."
"That was different. You were talking about my mother and Jas's sister," Ravi said, "Bela is nothing but trash, an illiterate orphan."
I was really angry now.
"Bela may be an illiterate orphan, but she is not trash. She is a decent girl. At least, she struggled and screamed to save her honor, unlike Mac's Shanti, who at the sight of an erect cock could not control her libido and surrendered her body to him, and that hussy, Minu, who to satisfy her lust seduced her own brother. Ravi, your depraved cock-hungry mother is the worst. Instead of taking you to task for your despicable act, she invited you to fuck her again. Shame on her," I shouted at them.
"Hey, mind your language. You can't abuse my mother," Ravi shot back.
"What I have said is the truth. They are nothing but whores," I said, angrily, "and if I wanted, I could fuck them anytime."
"Look at him. Just because he has fucked an illiterate girl, he thinks he can fuck all the women in the world," Jas laughed.
I was too angry to control myself. "I don't know about all the women, but I will and can easily fuck those three," I vowed rashly.
"Like hell you will, you bloody bastard," Ravi said, charging at me with clenched fists.
Luckily, Mac caught him before we came to blows. "Just for that, I will not only fuck them but also prove it to you. Now get out of here," I said, holding the door open.
Ravi wanted to settle matters on the spot, but Jas and Mac pushed him out.
"Bela, I am very sorry for humiliating you, but believe me, it was necessary. Frankly, I had no other choice. Please forgive me," I said, after I had calmed down a little.
"No need to apologize. You say it was necessary, then it had to be done," Bela replied, quietly.
"Thank you. You are very sweet," I said.
"Bhaiya, may I say something?" she asked.
I nodded, "Go ahead."
"Aapko meri wajheh se apne doston se lardna nahin chahiye tha. Agar aap kahete tau main unhain bhi chodene deti (You shouldn't have fought with your friends because of me. If you wanted, then I would have let them fuck me)," Bela said.
"Shh Bela, don't even think about it. They are not worthy of you. You are too good for them," I said, hugging her, "now go and rest."
"If you like, I can stay," Bela offered. I understood what she meant, but the thought that I had broken with my friends made me sad and wanted to be alone.
"No, go and rest. I'll see you at night," I said, kissing her.
"I was wrong. You are not a bad man but a very good man," she said softly, on her way out.
All afternoon and evening, I was very depressed. I couldn't come to terms with today's events. At night, I went up to Bela's room. More for company's sake than to have sex.
To my surprise, Bela was waiting for me, naked. I undressed and got into her bed. "Thank you," I said, running my hand over her naked body. As I was not in the mood to fuck, I kept kissing her and tweaking her nipples.
After fifteen minutes of silence, Bela asked, "Aaj chodoge nahin? (Aren't you going to fuck me today?)"
"You want me to?" I asked.
"No, I was only thinking about you," she replied.
"Not now. Maybe later," I said, lapsing into silence again and absent-mindedly, started to play with her boobies and rub her cunny.
"Are you thinking about your friends?" Bela asked, softly. I nodded, pushing my finger in and out of her cunt.
"Bhaiya, do it properly. It'll relax you and make you feel better," she said, spreading her legs.
"She wants it," I thought, "She doesn't want to say it openly, but this is the third time today that she has hinted at it."
I was still in no mood for sex, but not wanting to disappoint Bela, I got on top of her and started to move my cock slowly in and out of her cunt.
Still thinking about the events of the afternoon, I continued to move listlessly in and out of her for about ten minutes, then suddenly I came to a conclusion.
"DAMN YOU BASTARDS! I AM GLAD THAT I AM RID OF YOU," I shouted and started to fuck Bela with hard strokes. After I had finished, I rolled off and lay panting next to her.
"Do you feel better now?" Bela inquired, softly.
"Thank you, much, much better," I replied, "Tell me, did you feel any pleasure?" As usual, she replied in the negative.
"Liar! Then why did you keep moaning 'Oh Bhaiya'?" I said, laughing.
She blushed and covered her face with her hands. "Tell me," I insisted.
"I feel shy," she replied.
"Bela, you are a strange girl. You don't feel shy when you undress before me or ask me to fuck you, but when it comes to answering a simple question, you feel shy. Come on, tell me," I persisted.
"I can't," she said, shaking her head. I took her nipple between my forefinger and the thumb and twisted it cruelly.
"OWWA!" she screamed with pain, "Why did you do that, it hurts."
"If you don't tell me, then I will do it again," I said and, taking the other nipple in similar fashion, asked, "Shall I?"
"No, please don't," she begged, "I'll tell you."
"Good, I am listening," I replied.
"Today, for the first time, I felt something, but when it started to get better, you stopped pushing," she said, hiding her face in my chest.
Now, the cat was out of the bag. She is old enough to feel the pleasure, only she requires more time and some foreplay. I had come to like her, as she was obedient, loyal, and also very understanding, and wanted her to enjoy fucking also.
Tonight, I'll make her cum, I vowed to myself, and started to kiss her and fondle her tits. Then I kissed and sucked her taut nipples, running my fingers between her cunt lips. When I caressed her hard clit, she grabbed my hand and giggled, "Please not there, it tickles."
"Why not? You do it when you masturbate," I replied.
"Masturbate! What is that?" she asked.
"Rubbing and pinching this hard lump till you feel extreme pleasure," I explained, "I am sure you have done it many times before."
"No. I have never touched myself there," she replied.
"Good God! This girl has never masturbated.That means she has never experienced an orgasm, I thought.
'What shall I do?' was my next thought. As I couldn't bring myself to eat her pussy, I decided to shag her.
'Bela, let me do what I want,' I said, starting to masturbate her.
'Oh bhaiya,' she moaned after ten minutes of my rubbing her cunt and caressing her clit. I rubbed harder. Her moans became louder, and her hips started to twitch. As I wanted her to experience her first orgasm with my cock inside her, I mounted her and started to fuck her with hard strokes.
'Achcha lag raha hai? (Does it feel good?)' I asked.
'Haan, bahut achcha lag raha hai (Yes, it feels very nice),' she moaned.
After a few minutes, her body became tense. Then with a loud "OH BHAIYA" she fell back panting. Bela had experienced her first orgasm.
Without missing a stroke, I continued to fuck her till we both came together. 'How was it?' I asked.
"Oh bhaiya, it was lovely. I have never experienced such intense pleasure before," she panted.
Later that night, when I fucked her for the third time, I made her come four times. After that day, she came each time I screwed her.
One afternoon, I was sleeping when Bela woke me. 'Bhaiya, how do I look?' she said, twirling around like a model on the ramp.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I saw that she was wearing a light blue salwar kameez (An Indian ladies dress) instead of her usual clothes. 'Where did you get it?' I asked.
'Ammi gave it to me with two others. One is light green, and the other is red,' she replied, joyfully.
'Why?' I asked.
'She said, "Bela, you are a big girl now, and your blouses have become tight,"' Bela replied, blushing sweetly, 'you like it, don't you?'
'No,' I replied, 'and I prohibit you to wear them.'
'But why? They are so pretty,' she asked with tears in her eyes.
'You know why. I don't like to wait when I want to fuck you. It will take you hours to undress. That is why,' I replied.
'No, I won't. I can undress as quickly as before,' she said, starting to undress.
In her haste, her leg got entangled in the salwar, and she fell on the carpet. 'Please let me try again,' she said, starting to cry.
'No need,' I laughed and, picking her up in my arms, laid her on the bed. Then, freeing her leg from the salwar, I fucked her.
After we had finished, she said, snuggling up to me, 'Aap theek kahete hain. Bahut time lagta hai. Aage se main inhain nahin pahnoongi (You are right, it does take time. I won't wear it in the future).'
'If ammi asks, then what will you tell her?' I asked.
'Main unnse keh doongi aapne mana kara hai. Kyon ki jab aap mujhe chodena chahate hain tab aap intezaar nahin kar sakte aur mujhe inhain uttarne main time lagata hai (I will tell her that you don't want me to because you don't like to wait when you want to fuck me, and it takes me time to take it off),' she replied.
For a minute, I thought she was making fun of me, but I saw that she was serious. Yes, ammi was a problem. 'All right, Bela, you can wear your salwar kameez,' I said.
'Thank you, bhaiya,' she said, kissing me wildly, 'and I promise to practice taking it off till I can undress as quickly as before.'
'All right, do that,' I laughed.
One night when I was with Bela, she said, 'Today I met one of your friends in the market.'
'Which one?' I asked.
'The short one with glasses,' she said.
'Ravi, what did he say?' I inquired.
'First, he said I was very beautiful, then he offered me five hundred rupees to go with him to a secluded place,' she replied.
'Do you know why?' I asked.
'Haan, woh mujhe chodena chahata tha (Yes, he wanted to fuck me),' she replied.
'Did you go?' I asked.
'Of course not. My body and soul belong to you,' she said.
'Good. In the future, don't talk to any of my ex-friends,' I said, making a mental note to thrash Ravi.
Despite the loss of my friends, I was happy, and my life was no longer boring. I was thankful to God for changing my life. I fucked Bela every night and banged her during the day also if I felt like it. Bela also enjoyed our love bouts. But fate had more in store for me.
One morning, I was browsing in a bookstore when I heard a sweet voice say, 'Hello Babu! Fancy meeting you here.' Turning around, I saw Kiran. I couldn't believe my eyes. The girl of my dreams was standing in front of me with a shy smile on her lips.
All of a sudden, my tongue suffered a paralytic stroke, but I did manage to stutter, 'H...Hello Kiran.' I couldn't utter another word and stood gazing into her beautiful black eyes. Kiran was also silent; maybe she was waiting for me to say something. I don't know for how long we stood there gazing into each other's eyes.
'Kiran, there you are. I have been looking for you all over the store,' Romy said, breaking the spell.
'Sorry, I saw Babu and came over to say hello to him. You know each other, don't you?' Kiran said. Her voice was so musical.
'Of course, I know Babu. Hello Babu,' Romy said.
'Hello Romy,' I greeted her.
Romy was Kiran's friend. In school, they were always together. Romy was good-looking but not in Kiran's class. She was short, no taller than five feet, with small perky tits. Like Kiran, she also wore tight blouses.
'Gosh, am I thirsty?' Romy said, 'The Orbit is next door. Let us go there and drink something. Babu, why don't you join us also?'
Unable to say a word, I nodded and followed them out of the store. Once seated, my tongue recovered gradually. In half an hour or so, I was able to converse like a normal human being. The next hour was the happiest hour of my life.
'What an enjoyable morning,' Romy said, when we were about to leave, 'Why don't we meet here tomorrow?'
'That would be very nice,' I said.
'Good. See you tomorrow at 11 o'clock,' Romy said, leaving with Kiran.
The following day, when I reached the appointed place, only Kiran was there. I should have been happy to see Kiran alone, but like an idiot, I inquired, 'Where is everybody?'
'You mean I am nobody?' Kiran replied, pouting.
'Sorry, Kiran, I didn't mean it that way. Where is Romy?' I asked, apologizing for my faux pas.
'I know, I was joking,' Kiran laughed, 'She has just left. Her boyfriend called, and she has gone to meet him.'
After that day, we met nearly every day. We went to movies, took long walks, had lunch together, and even held hands. I wanted to kiss her, but could not build up enough courage to do it.
Life at home hadn't changed. I continued to screw Bela at will. One evening, when abbu was at the office and ammi had gone visiting, Bela came to my room. I was engrossed in a gripping thriller.
'Bhaiya, I can undress as quickly as before now,' she said.
'Good,' I replied, without looking up from my book.
'Shall I show you?' she asked.
'Not now, later,' I replied, without looking at her.
'Bhaiya, you are very mean,' she complained, 'I have practiced so hard, and you don't even care.' I sighed and put the book away.
'All right, show me,' I said, looking at her. Her eyes told a different story. I could see lust in them.
'Kya teri choot main khujli ho rahi hai aur chudwana chahati hai? (Is your cunt itching, and do you want me to fuck you?)' I asked, laughing. She blushed but remained silent.
'Tell me,' I insisted.
'Haan (Yes),' she replied softly, covering her face with her hands.
'You silly girl, why didn't you say so in the first place? Come,' I said, starting to undress. She was out of her clothes and into bed in quick time.
'Promise me that next time you feel horny, you will tell me,' I said, after we had finished and started to get up.
'I will,' she said, catching my hand, 'Bhaiya, mujhe ek baar aur chodo. Meri choot main bahut khujli ho rahi hai (Bhaiya, fuck me once more. My cunt is itching so badly).'
'Of course,' I laughed, mounting her again.
One afternoon, Kiran and I had planned to go to a movie. When I was about to leave home, it started to rain heavily. I borrowed ammi's car and went to meet her. When I reached the appointed place, I saw Kiran waiting for me.
'Come in quickly,' I said, opening the car door. Kiran jumped in, throwing the wet umbrella on the rear seat.
'My God, Kiran, you are soaking wet,' I exclaimed.
'It couldn't be helped. In this gale, the damned umbrella was of no use,' she replied, wringing her skirt.
'You need to change your clothes, otherwise you will catch pneumonia,' I said, gunning the car.
'Where are we going?' she asked.
'To your house, so that you can change,' I replied.
'No, please not to my house. My mother will kill me if she sees us together. Mummy does not know that I am seeing a boy. She thinks I spend my afternoons with Romy studying. Stop the car, I have an idea,' she said, pulling out her cell phone.
'Romy, I require your help. Can I come over? I am soaking wet and need a place to dry out....Yes, he is with me. Why?....Thanks a lot, we are on our way.'
Romy was waiting for us. 'Gosh, Kiran, you are wet,' Romy giggled.
'Stop giggling and give me some of your clothes to wear. I am feeling cold,' Kiran pleaded.
'My clothes! Have you seen your size and mine?' Romy giggled, pointing to Kiran's boobs and then her own.
'Sorry, I forgot,' Kiran giggled, 'but do something before I fall ill.'
'All right. Babu, you wait here. You'll find all sorts of magazines to amuse you, while I take care of madam,' Romy said, pointing to magazines scattered around.
For the next half an hour, I leafed through the periodicals. They were all girlie stuff, but with some great photos.
'Babu, she is decent now, you can go in,' Romy said, holding the door of the room open for me. When I entered the room, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Kiran looked stunningly beautiful.She was standing in the center of the room with a towel wrapped around her body. Droplets of water dripped on her shoulder from her curly wet hair. She was smiling shyly at me. | 3 |
103,664 | Save the Animals! | 'Brrrr.... Brrrrr....'
Oh damn! How could she have forgotten to turn off her mobile here in the cinema? Faces turning, glaring at her... She fumbles urgently at her handbag in her lap, but... somehow, it won't open. 'Brrrr....'
How stupid of her... and now the lights are coming on, and they'll see she's naked, how terrible! Ashamed, she presses the strangely smooth bag into her lap, covering herself from the staring people all around, as she rises to leave. But the phone rings and rings, the heavy vibrations against her crotch setting fire to her sex. Freezing her to the spot. She should stop pressing the bag there, but if she doesn't, they'll see her.... Now they are pointing, leering; they know she can't run, know she is pressing the phone there because it's... she is so hot, she wants to rub it against herself, but like always she somehow can't manage to... Just the 'Brrrrr.... Brrrrr....' that feels almost inside her, and the people watching, whispering, disapproving. They know what she's wanting to do. She tries to turn away, but something.... the handbag is tangled.... sensation of a smooth soft surface against her face...
Uhhhhh.... oh. Her hands are pressed against something hard and curved, down near her waist. She is partly on her side, but her hips won't turn, and it's very uncomfortable. She rolls back, face upwards. Opens her eyes. Dim light. White, spray-creted ceiling, pipes. A plain fluorescent light fitting, off. Some dead bugs inside the plastic. That buzzing, it really is down in her crotch, still there, and she has woken so horny... There is no handbag, no crowd, and her hands are trying to press to her buzzing sex, but are blocked, by..... what _is_ that?
Groggily, she lifts her head, looking down at herself.
It takes her several moments to take in a number of astonishing sights, in the dim, flickering light.
One, she is naked, or mostly. No sheets, blankets, nightie. Just bare breasts, and with nipples pointing accusingly. Her hands... are palm down on a strange clear plastic... kind of skirt. Rigid, a single hard shell, it starts with a tight band around her waist, then flares out and down, to a wide curving edge as far down as her knees. Her backside is resting on its inside, which seems to be as flat as the front part she can see.
Which isn't all she can see. It's clear, and underneath it, she is completely bare. *Completely* bare - her fur is gone! And in the shock of seeing her cunt lips totally exposed, she reflexively tries to bring her thighs together - only to discover that she cannot.
The strange clear, hard skirt, has two loops of webbing, attached to its inner left and right sides, that circle her thighs, holding them out fairly wide. Her knees will not close less than a foot apart!
So her sex cannot be hidden. Even from herself, and she is looking at one pouting, excited slit. Because there isn't any dammed cell phone, _something_ inside there is going 'BRRRRRRR.... BRRRRRR...' over and over, vibrating so heavily that she can actually hear it through her own flesh. Lifting up more, she peers down in the dim light, and can just see two short objects sticking out of her sex. One is a very thin, light-colored object sticking out several centimeters, from the back of her slit. Another is a thin and flexible piece of tubing, with a small knobby object at its end a few centimeters from her flesh.
Both are obviously totally out of her reach. No doubt the rear one is how the large thing she can feel inside her vagina is to be removed. When she tenses her vaginal muscles, the little rod thing visibly moves, and then she can feel it between her labia. Otherwise, it's too small to be felt.
That buzzing is going to drive her crazy! It's making her hot, but she knows it is nowhere near enough to make her come. Just not the right thing. That's her clit, which she can see sticking its swollen little head up out of her puffy labia already.
Finally, she wonders where she is, and looks around. To discover she is in a cage. Bars! A bare, clinical space, with a plastic-covered single bunk, an odd-looking knee-high contraption in one corner. A small sink in another. Worse, now she remembers how she came to be here. And other things. Oh God! Please let her be still dreaming. She must be asleep still, having a crazy erotic nightmare, probably even fingering herself or something. She should try to wake up, and stop herself.
But no. This is real. She can vividly remember her shocked outrage, as the two beefy undergraduates dragged her, naked and struggling, deeper into the university building, down raw, deserted fire stairs, to a stark basement area. A place of paint-flaking metal lockers, and bright stainless steel benches and medical instruments. How her struggling was shocked into mute passivity as she was forced through a long room lined with large cages - each with a naked, bored-looking adult human. Mostly female, but a couple of males at one end. All of them in strange, frightening-looking restraints of one sort or another. They had watched her pass, silent, afraid-looking. A silence, even at her shouted questions, that had finally struck her helpless. Why didn't they answer? A fearful realization that she was actually in deep, deep shit, and probably not going to be getting out of it.
There wasn't much more to that train of memory. They'd led her into another room, mostly empty save for a starkly clinical examination table, complete with straps. A few battered wooden cupboards in one corner, looking more like second-hand cast-offs than cousins to the shining metal of the exam table. She'd struggled, but they had still strapped her down to the table, nonchalantly, effortlessly. She'd found herself, panting from exertion, exposed in a 'legs wide and high' position, that she'd always imagined in nightmares. The main reason she'd never dared go for a 'female medical check-up' herself. But with the added outrage of wide leather straps, tightly securing every point of her body. One of the men had begun applying shaving cream to her pubes, shocking her with the cold lather and his casual brushing of it over and into her most sensitive parts. He wasn't even making a pretence of 'medical professionalism' - he'd been blatantly twisting the shaving brush into her vagina, and wagging it back and forth over her clitoris, all the while grinning at her. Smiling more toothily at her every shudder and complaint. Much to her dismay, that brushing had the effect she'd been dreading, and her clit had sprung into full hardness with an almost audible 'sproing'. The oaf with the brush leered at her sex in amazement when he noticed the stiff little finger of flesh poking up, covered in shaving foam. He'd grabbed it roughly, wiping the foam off with his fingers, to reveal its redness among the surrounding white. Somehow that made it look even worse.
She had been convinced she was about to experience a long evening of demented sexual abuse, when the other man had walked to her side, and held a pneumatic injector gun in front of her face. So far neither of them had bothered to say a word to her, and when he spoke then it surprised her; taking her mind off the sensations in her sex, where the creamy brush was back to twisting and tickling. Where her clit was already starting to ache, and judging by the brush's attentions, was going to be aching a whole lot more.
"Now, this won't hurt a bit. We need for you to have a good night's rest, so you are nice and fresh for some tests tomorrow. This is just some stuff to help you sleep."
He'd applied the tip to her arm, and there'd been a 'thkt!' noise, and a slight pinprick feeling in her arm. He'd continued talking while putting the injector gun away again.
"It's fast-acting, so just relax. You'll be OK. A quick shave to neaten things up down there, a catheter, isolation shield, and you'll be off to a comfy bed for the night. Oh, and another little surprise you'll find in the morning." He pauses, with a grin that reminds her of a wolf. A wolf with a dirty imagination. "Actually, not so very little. Couldn't have it just falling out! Anyway, you'll see. Just remember, it's there for a purpose - to arouse you sexually. Saves time if you are already there by the time we will be in tomorrow. Some of the tests require you to be, hmmmm, 'panting for it.' Not to bore you with medical terms. Are you..?"
He pauses, looking questioningly at her. Passes his hand in front of her face. She realizes that she is feeling a bit dizzy. It had crept up on her, what with the distractions of that dammed shaving brush still raping her sex, and the cascade of implications of his words. She shakes her head, feeling the world tilt and sway. Looks back at him, trying to find something defiant and clever to say. She isn't thinking too clearly either, it seems. It might help to think, if her sex wasn't reacting so predictably to all that soapy brushing of her aching hard clit. He nods.
"That's the way. Just relax, let your eyes close. Not long now. It's a wonderful, generous thing you've done." Her vision is getting a bit confused, but she clearly feels his hand coming to rest on her breast. He is stroking it, rolling her nipple. That seems to have become quite hard again, by its feel.
"Very generous!"We all greatly appreciate your selfless gesture.
Now, just remember in the morning - you may want to pee, but that has to wait until during the tests. The catheter will prevent any little accidents in the meantime. You'll be woken when the timer in your 'surprise' starts it up, and there's no use fighting that. It won't stop until we turn it off, later. You can try what you like, the shield will prevent you from doing anything you shouldn't.
You needn't worry about doing the equipment any harm, so no need to hold back. I'm afraid it will be quite frustrating though. No orgasms in the test schedule until quite late in the day. Still, all in a good cause, eh!"
He pauses, still fondling her breast. Her eyes had drifted closed of their own accord as he spoke, and now she is floating, senses fading away. Listening to his voice, the fear and horror seem to evaporate, leaving only the sensations of her skin and ears. And the rising glow in her sex, which has started to feel like a big, throbbing cloud, carrying her... her thoughts have almost stopped. The last thing she can remember is something he says to the other. Distantly, disconnectedly, she hears...
"Right, she's out. Are you going to fuck her tonight? Yeah? Me too. Damned good-looking woman, look at this thing here! Exceptional! Can't wait until tomorrow. After she's shaved. That old bag Pelton will probably come in over the weekend, for a looker like this. Spoils it a bit, having her hovering around, and wanting to..."
In stunned shock now, recalling those moments, she tries to jump up off the bed. This doesn't work as expected. The strange skirt-like thing around her waist and enclosing her thighs is rigid. So she can't simply sit up since the movement of her hip joints is very restricted. She discovers that her thighs and waist have to stay more or less in a straight line. So to get off the bed, she has to sort of slide off the side, and into a standing position in one motion. She cannot sit, only either stand, or lie prone. Nor can she lie on her side or front, due to the forced spread of her thighs, and the flare of the 'skirt' to the sides and front. In the back, it doesn't flare away from her body much, instead conforming closely to the curve of her buttocks. A small amount of clearance behind her legs is filled by the skirt rocking upwards slightly as she lies back on it.
The experimentation involved in discovering this does little to calm her thoughts, spinning with the revelation that she has apparently been raped, at least twice, on top of all her other troubles. Damn them! Those cowardly beasts, she can just imagine the animalistic scene of them taking turns, thrusting their stupid erections into her unconscious pussy. Probably did it for ages, taking their time, laughing at her, grunting and pawing her body as they rutted in her. Shaved her first, did they? Bastards!
Bending forward while standing, she tries to tell if there is any evidence of their... their... rape. Tries to concentrate on the feelings from down there, looking for any hurts or soreness.
This is a mistake, since all she sees is a very swollen and wet-looking beaver, and all she feels is that organ letting her know that something very stimulating is happening to it, and it would like something a bit more clitoral, please. To remind her of that, the pink spike in question is still standing out between the thick folds of her swollen labia. It feels extra sensitive, a bit chafed, and aching hard with that damned need again. She tries not to think of what the boys might have done with it last night. Not very successfully, the thoughts keep creeping back in, of what it would have felt like, had she been awake. Feelings that are now perceptibly growing stronger, and are already enough to cause an involuntary tensing of her arse and thigh muscles, as her hips rock her sex forward. She can't help her hands running over the plastic shield skirt thing, exploring for a way to her poor sex, to soothe its ache. There is definitely no way. She doesn't even bother to try contorting herself in weird poses - it's so obvious that there is no way her fingers are going to be getting to her slit. There it is, perfectly, obscenely visible in its shaven smoothness, labia slightly parted to the cool air by her spread thighs, clit obscenely visible, yet unless she sprouts tentacles from her knees, it's all out of reach.
Damn, damn! There's nothing hurting, but whatever is inside there feels quite large. Sort of very fat but short, perhaps like a ball of some kind. She can't feel anything pressing up deep into her belly, or against her uterus. Nothing like... the absurdly sized plastic dicks her boyfriend would sometimes have her... how did he ever get her to allow that? Why did she submit to spending whole evenings, with those things tied so deeply into her, them vibrating so incessantly. He said he liked to watch as her desire overpowered her upbringing, and she would beg him for relief from the aching excitement. Over and over, since he would refuse to allow her to remove them or turn them off for hours.
What a pervert! Voyeur! How ashamed she'd felt in the years after, recalling how she'd flopped and twisted her naked, sweating body about for his amusement. She'd thought then she enjoyed it too, and her orgasms were a seal of their love. But she wasn't going to make that sappy mistake this time!
Not that she'd be _able_ to, she thinks ruefully, hands resting on the rigid plastic barrier isolating her body from the waist to knees. God! That thing may not be very deep, but it does vibrate strongly. She can't believe herself - raped by two men, probably for _ages_, and already some dumb bit of plastic and motors has her body wanting _more_?
She steps awkwardly to the front bars of the cage, and tries to pay attention to the details of her prison. It's a smallish room, with the cage taking up part of it. Something like a toilet sits in one corner inside the cage, where its bars are against the wall of the room. Bed, toilet, a few square feet of floor - that's the extent of the cage's interior.
Outside, the room is also fairly bare, with one opposite corner holding a desk and a row of file cabinets. One door, solid, closed, in another wall.
A computer on the desk. All the light in the room comes indirectly from the computer screen, which is turned away from her. The light varies in colour and brightness irregularly, sometimes dropping to nothing. She imagines some pointless screen saver program must be running, doodling meaningless coloured patterns.
On the wall behind the desk, illuminated directly by the monitor, is a poster. It seems familiar in the dimness, and she waits, trying to make it out as the light flickers. At first, the writing comes clear - 'THE TRUTH IS IN THERE'. Huh? Shouldn't that be 'out there'? She recognizes it now - it's like a poster on the wall in Mulder's basement X-Files office. She can dimly make out the hovering disk... and then the light flares up, and the image resolves. It's a woman's private parts, in horizontal shaven close-up, skin of inner thighs a faded smooth tonal 'sky', with the sex a dark saucer-like slash hovering in deliberate grainy miss-focus. She wonders what sort of X-files are in the cabinets of this basement office.
For a moment, she holds her breath, listening. Nothing, and it's hard to hold your breath while feeling this way, so she takes another breath. Finds she is almost panting, and tries to slow her breathing rhythm. It doesn't really work, since if she concentrates on her breathing, her hips and arse start making obscene coital motions. If she pays attention to stopping that, her breathing gets out of hand again. Her clit is starting to seriously ache from its hardness. Worse, somehow just thinking of that, knowing she can't soothe it even if she allowed herself to want to, seems to have a powerful amplifying effect.
Arrgh! she thinks. This is _terrible_! Can these bastards really have her here _permanently_, like they claim? All those things that arrogant arsehole Keil said, as if it was all obvious! What were they again? 'Orgasmic profiling' - that one had stuck in her memory. 'Cavity capacities' - that one sounded ominous too. Plural! Surely not!? But then, given her current situation, it doesn't seem likely that they'll care much for her dignity.
Speaking of cavities, she thinks, it feels like I'm really dripping down there. Looking down, between her widely spaced legs, she sees with dismay that she actually is dripping. There are two wet splash spots on the floor, just visible as the flickering light flares brighter for a moment.
'Orgasmic profiling' - she repeats the phrase softly out loud.
'Orgasmic', she says slowly, louder, as she watches the glint of another fluid drop forming on her distended labia. 'Profiling'.
It's pretty clear what that will involve. Always so pedantically statistical, those darned academics. If they want to 'profile' her orgasms, it will probably involve as large a sample set as they can obtain. They will put a lot of effort into it. With her body the instrument. She wonders if they'll make her come many different ways, or just one way, over and over? All the while watching closely, writing notes, and making recordings of her... her _performance_.
And all this as some sort of _baseline_? Which means it's to be compared with _later_ data? And that means that 'later' will involve more of this kind of stuff! What was it? 'Research disciplines' involving her and orgasms? And how about 'used for education'? Education of who, in what?
At the back of her mind, is the thought that all this ought to be driving her mad with terror. But it isn't. In fact, it's mostly making it harder to fight the still growing sexual excitement she feels. That stupid thing buzzing inside her - it's fiendish. Impossible to think of sex as the crude, unwanted atavism it is, when your body is more than ready to prove its animal nature.Hormones, conditioning, whatever, she has to admit that by sometime today, she is going to be forgetting all her resolve. Doing things she'd rather not, if her mind was clearer. Enough of this buzzing, and she'd probably even... even masturbate to order for them. Huh! 'Probably'? Facing the truth, she'll certainly be begging them to allow her, eventually. Considering those shameful times lately when she couldn't even resist the need, free and alone in her own home. Perhaps this hell is her punishment for those sins?
With a despairing sigh, she lifts her hands to her breasts, now also aching with her heat. She clasps them tight and strokes her pebble-hard nipples. She wonders to herself if it might, after all, be possible to give herself an orgasm from just her breasts. As if all those times her boyfriend had tried, and made her try, mightn't have proved the negative. It made her more horny, all right, but never, ever got anywhere near that relief. She'd read somewhere that some women could. She didn't seem to be one of them.
Feeling foolish standing there at the bars, her lust dripping steadily onto the floor, she moans and walks back to the bed, dejected and hot. She lies down, with some awkwardness. One hand on her breast, the other clenched hopelessly on the plastic shell arched inches above her aching sex. She massages her breasts, one and the other, knowing it will only make things worse in the long run. Resigned to await her new owners, fuming in the knowledge that they will find her exactly as expected - hot and panting for it.
And also, in need to pee, judging by the sensations from her bladder every time she involuntarily tightens her stomach muscles in a futile thrust of her hips. Damned catheter. They couldn't even leave her that bodily function. There is no way she is going to be able to sleep any more.
Some minutes later, she is considering whether anyone might be concerned by her absence from work next Monday. Playing back the scenes in her mind, from Friday, when she'd ended up walking out in vocal disgust, she has to admit to herself that they'll probably all just assume she meant 'leaving for good'. And to think that she'd sneered at the stories of how Francine had come to be trapped in that absurd bondage contraption, and had to be rescued by the fire department. How stupid she'd thought them, Francine and the courier fellow, to arrange that sick game and then have a mix-up with the dates, that left Francine stuck for the whole weekend. The girl had been lucky to have finally managed to chew through the gag by Sunday night, and call for help before everyone else turned up for work on Monday morning. God knows what she'd had to do to keep her job as it was. The mess on the carpet, eeuww!
If only the fire department would show up now! Though whether the university would be able to tell the firemen to go dry their hoses, since she was legally university property... She didn't think that was possible. But then, there was some stuff on the news last year, she remembers vaguely. Something about some nutty conspiracy freaks, complaining about, what was it? A change to the contract law, for corporations? They said it allowed for um... contractual slavery. There'd been a crazy story about some senators, and a Temp Agency, and migrant girls... but who believed that stuff? Passing laws, paid off with sex. Couldn't happen, she'd thought. Thinking about it, she remembers feeling that those stupid Russian and Asian girls deserved what happened to them - if there was any truth to the story at all. Perhaps she should have paid a bit more attention.
Sexual slavery, in America, it sounded so bizarre! And why does the thought that she may really be stuck here, really _will_ be used for weird kinky experiments... why does that make her feel like she is melting or something, between her legs?
Her mind drifts off into sexual fantasies, distracted by the desire of her body. An image of Professor Keil arguing with several full-dress firemen, standing around her naked body strapped wide to an examination table, in the middle of some perverted sex experiment. The firemen agreeing that, yes, everything was perfectly above board, false alarm and they should be going now, but did the professor mind if they stayed to watch? How they all admired the medical sciences, and could they perhaps be of...
Shattering her fantasy, a phone rings loudly in the room. Turning her head, she guesses that it must be on the desk, behind the computer. Several long rings, and she is just thinking 'sorry, we're captive right now, please leave a...' when the sound of an answering machine cuts in. "Sorry, the lab is unattended. Whazzup? click... beeeeep!" Immediately a woman's voice answers. Rachel grimaces as she recognizes the prim tones of Ms Pelton.
"Jeff, Fred, just letting you know I'll be in after lunch. Doctor mentioned you might need some assistance, but this morning I have gym classes, then some shopping to be done. Now don't you forget the correct test regime! You boys will have to restrain yourselves, that shield had better still be on the subject when I get there. I'm sure there'll be time for some unstructured investigation later in the programme." She snickers, a rather chilling sound. A few seconds of silence, then "Ah, I suppose you secured her in the office? So, hello Rachel, if you can hear me. It's seven in the morning, and the fellows will be in sometime after nine. No doubt you have discovered your alarm clock? They should only have set it for half an hour before they got there; that would have been sufficient to prepare you for the tests. But boys will be boys - they always give the pretty ones hell. Well, happy hunching! See you later, sweaty."
The line goes silent, and after a moment the answering machine grinds through the rest of its role "You have... one... new messages." Then there is no more sound but the creak of the bed as her thighs tighten, pushing her frustrated, burning sex up into the inviolable space of the shielding plastic skirt. At least two more hours of this. She supposes she'll survive alive, but not necessarily sane. God, it's driving her nuts already.
After lying there squirming for many more minutes, she gets up again, unable to stand it. She has a mouthful of water at the sink, rinses the sleep from her face, realizes that there is no towel. Dripping, she moves over to the strange object in the other corner of her cage, hoping to take her mind off her buzzing sex by examining it.
It is more like some strange piece of laboratory equipment, than anything she recognizes. In the dim, flickering light, it seems to be made of molded white plastic. Set at the centre of a shower-recess like white plastic depression in the floor, it is a squat, tapering column, with a deeply concave top containing several complex, articulated nozzle-ish projections. The body of the column is flat and featureless, joining with the floor in a kind of flexible concertina arrangement, that implies the whole thing is movable in some way.
The outer lip of the top concavity is not flat, but a complex, two-lobed organic curve, one side looping high, the other side a smaller, tighter cup. Walking around it, she suddenly realizes that it's the shape you'd get if someone squatted down in a big wad of play dough, letting it form tightly up over their pubic region, press firmly into their thighs, and wrap on around and up their buttocks to above the crease of their arse. Realizing that, the various objects nestled down in the cavity within take on an entirely more suggestive air. This is some kind of perverted sex-thing, she thinks. If a person sat on this, those would be pointed right at, well, everywhere.
Touching it, she finds that although the body of the column is hard, the thick folds of the almost flower-like top are firm but flexible. They have a softly yielding, smooth outer layer, but some kind of inner rigidity. It's too dark to see down into the depths of the top cavity, but she feels around inside and discovers that it contains a pool of water. With an 'ugh!' she flicks her fingers, sniffs them. Smell of disinfectant.
She is walking around it again, peering at the shadowy objects inside, when her foot feels a 'click' in the floor, and the column follows with a 'whoosh' of water swirling around in the opening. She can see it spraying in from small openings around the rim.
Dropping to her knees, and peering at the floor, she sees now that there are several small bumps in a line, just to the 'front' of the column. They have some symbols, and after a little while, a flare up in the dim lighting lets her read them. There are two arrows, an X, 1, 2, 3, a pair of dots, and a circle with a diagonal slash through it, like a 'no whatever' sign. Which tells her absolutely nothing, she thinks. The flushing has made her think maybe it's just some insane kind of toilet, rather than... something. She tries pressing the buttons, and finds that with her fingers, she can't even get them to click. Standing, awkwardly in the weird skirt, she tries again with her foot.
This works, and she is startled to discover that the two arrows make the entire column raise and lower, smoothly and slowly. The 'X' seems to do nothing, as do the others, except for the 'stop' sign, which makes the 'toilet' flush again. The sound of the water reminds her that she really, really wishes she could go to the toilet herself. Maybe, if she relaxed enough, she could pee around that catheter thing? But how to get over the 'bowl', in this chastity skirt?
It takes her a few more moments, idly playing with the buttons, before it occurs to her to wonder how low the column will go. So she holds the 'down' arrow, waiting as the column very slowly sinks lower... and lower. Seems to take forever, but it keeps going, and eventually the top curvy-floppy bit is below the level of her plastic skirt hem. She steps above the column, and toes the 'up' arrow.The contraption begins slowly rising into the confines of her shield.
It's almost immediately obvious that the skirt and the toilet are made to suit each other. From front to back, the 'body-fitting' part of the toilet is a close fit with the skirt. The hollow sides of the thing are comfortable for her legs and clear the straps holding her legs apart. As the opening of the device approaches her crotch, the back riser is slipping up over her buttocks and up, between the skirt and her skin. Wiggling as it all finally presses into place, she finds that it seems to make a complete seal all around and is quite comfortable to settle down on. Except that its line of contact is all well away from all the places that are currently begging for contact. The front lip comes up well over the top of her pubic bone, resting softly against her lower belly. It had never touched her clitoris as it passed, despite her trying. Its tight fit inside the skirt prevented her from shifting her hips enough to rub that.
She supposes that now would be the time to try and pee. She tries. It's not easy, with the vibrating thing inside her and a sex that's dying, swollen for sex. After some concentration, she can feel herself relaxing, but nothing happens. The pressure in her bladder remains. Seems the catheter does too good a job. Annoyed, she wonders what the other buttons do.
Pressing the 'X' had no effect before, but now when she tries it, she shrieks in surprise. With a sudden clench, the whole outer edge of the 'toilet' clamps tight against her body. Her body jolts, as her hips are instantly shifted an inch or two back and into a new angle, in which her posterior is a bit more thrust back than before. Instinctively, she tries to push herself up out of it, straining her calf muscles to stand on tiptoe. But to no effect. The thing is like a hand, wrapped around her, flat against her lower spine at the rear and pressing in above her pubis at the front. It is now utterly rigid, beneath the thin layer of soft surface rubber. With the way it wraps around the sides of her hips, she simply cannot move her pelvis at all.
After a moment of panicked struggling, she realizes the futility and remembers that this is, after all, probably just a ridiculously over-engineered toilet. Albeit a Venus Fly Toilet. With the controls at her feet. She presses the 'X' button again with her toe. Nothing happens.
A few more presses of that 'X', and she admits to herself that for reasons unknown, it isn't going to let her free. This makes her feel very vulnerable - here she is, a vibrator up her vagina, bladder near redline, clitoris achingly hard, locked into some kinky ablutional, with strange mechanical attachments poised not far below her private parts, which are stuck in an open-legged, screw-me pose. She wonders if she dares to try the other buttons again. For the moment, no.
Several minutes go by, her mind pretty much occupied with the unwanted, unchanging intermittent pulsing of her internal vibrator and the counterpoint monotonous aching need in her clitoris. This is much worse than simply lying on the bed, she thinks. She tries caressing her breasts, hoping this might take her mind off 'down there'. It doesn't - just making things even more frustrating. Eventually, she comes back to the idea of trying the other buttons.
For starters, she tries the 'no' button, and to her great relief, it does what it did before - flushes the toilet. Except, now the spray jets seem to be angled differently, for she feels the jets striking her all over the skin hidden inside the clamshell's grip. _All_ over too - it feels like her slit and clitoris are being needled by about a hundred sharp little sprays. It's a very nice feeling... very, very nice, so as soon as the flush finishes after a few seconds, she presses the button again. This time, nothing happens.
In anger and frustration, she stomps her foot down. Dammit! What idiot designed this stupid toilet! Why doesn't it do what it's supposed to! Impatiently, she tries the others - '1' does nothing, '2' - nothing. '3' - and something in the mechanism makes a 'thunk' sound, and a motor whines up to speed. She freezes, wondering what this time. She can feel some kind of vibration, and it isn't from the thing inside her. Next, the entire clamshell fitted around her hips quite suddenly jerks upwards several more inches and stops, just high enough that her feet lift right off the floor. 'Oops' she thinks, and reaches her foot to the '3' button again. Only she finds she now can't reach *any* of the buttons!
Then she jerks rigid, with a shocked 'Oh!' as a high-pressure jet of warm water strikes precisely on her little anus. She clenches it reflexively, but can feel the heat inside, where some jetted in too fast for her. It is a very hard, fast jet too, blasting away at her clenched opening, pummelling and prodding her, just like a solid probe, but more insinuating. Straining, grunting, still she can feel little streams of water forcing their way inside. The water is increasing in temperature too. Still comfortable, it is now more hot than warm. Then it suddenly stops, and with a sigh of relief, she lets her tiring muscle relax. That wasn't so bad, she thinks. Some kind of enema thing.
Just as she is thinking of expelling the hot water that got past her, the jet abruptly strikes again. This time she is slower to respond, and what feels like a great deal of quite hot water ends up inside her, as she struggles to hold out the rest of it. She can feel the liquid inside her working deeper, as her clenching anus squeezes tight. The vibrator in her vagina gives another of its shaking bursts, and she nearly loses concentration. Damn! She wasn't expecting that. How many times is it going to do this anal jet thing? And the feeling in her sex, as she clenches her arse... damn, dam, maybe this _is_ a sex machine after all. If this is '3', are '1' and '2' what she thinks?
Then the jet stops again. She could swear it went for longer the second time, but it's hard to tell. Not knowing whether it's going to repeat again, she is in a quandary wondering whether to try and expel the hot water now moving deeply inside, or to wait, clenched and ready to resist another attack. She decides to wait.
So she sits there, resting her weight on the quite comfortable wrap around her pelvis, concentrating on keeping her anus clenched tight. Which is not so easy with the regular beats of vibration inside her sex and the still warm water gurgling inside her rear. She waits for several times the length of the gap before, then relaxes, thinking 'ah, must have been just the two.'
Of course, when she tries to empty herself, almost nothing happens. The water has been pushed far up inside by her clenching. She strains for several moments, achieving nothing much more than a slight trickling sensation. And just as she relaxes from a push, loose and open, the jet spears up into her, shocking her right out of thinking to clench. It's hot, and fast, and forceful, and rushes deep up into her belly, an expanding warmth working into places she's never felt anything before. She can feel the expansion of her abdomen, and when she places her hands over her belly, can even feel the increase there. Trying to stop it, she struggles to close herself, but the muscles seem lethargic from the pummelling of hot water, and nothing comes of the command. Then abruptly as it began, it stops again.
This time, still open and with volume inside, she can feel the water cascading out of her. Objects in the flow cause ticks of sensation as they pass. Her vagina spasms on another burst of the vibe, and her disobedient anus spasms shut now too, blocking the outflow. Trying to relax herself, her palms press reflexively on her still full belly, massaging the discomfort. She has just got things flowing again, when another jet strikes, and again she is filling up.
None of this is giving her much opportunity to think clearly, but it seems to her like the interval then was much shorter than before. Could it be... (the jet shuts down again) ..random? she thinks, as once again she is draining. 'That would mean...' she starts, then her vaginal wake-up call interrupts her train of thought again. She wonders if her clitoris can get any harder and more painfully needy. Giving a desperate thrust of her hips, if only to brush the tip of her clitoris against the inside of the clamshell, she succeeds only in pressing the front lip painfully against her over-full bladder. The jet fires again, thrusting its finger of hot, probing water deep up her bowels, but this time stops almost immediately. The feeling is as if a living bar had rammed into her, then melted instantly into a return flow in her now loosely relaxed interior. After a few seconds of peace, it does that again, only this time continuing for just long enough to start building up the liquid swelling of her belly again. Then it stops.
She massages herself, draining, wondering how long this is going to continue. Her sense of shock and outrage seems to have maxed out, leaving a kind of numbness, but as she thinks of the men arriving at nine, and finding her still shuddering and jerking on this machine, her overworked body rallies with a blush she can feel rather than see, as a wave of humiliation crashes over her. She signed a contract, stupid, stupid, and so she is here, and will stay here, and they will do things like this to her, for as long as they choose.
For what seems like minutes, she stands there, sobbing quietly in self-reproach, as the jet seems to have given up. Most of the water seems gone now, and she thinks to try the flush. It works this time, the sensation again intense and erotic, but far too brief to do anything other than frustrate. Again, it doesn't go a second time when she tries.It almost seems like the jet ordeal is over, and she is once again finding the fullness of her bladder the major source of discomfort, when *blam*, the jet strikes into her again. After the initial blow, she manages to hold it out for a while, then gives up in resignation. The waters course up into her again, swirling and filling. This time, it seems to go on even longer, and by the time it stops her stomach is very visibly distended. She has found that at moments when the influx is painful, she can clench and hold back more, till that inside has distributed itself. But the pounding on her arse is another kind of pain, and one best to submit to eventually.
Time passes, and the irregular fillings and emptyings continue. The water fortunately shifts in temperature to more nearly body temperature, though now and then it surprises her with a hot or icy cold short blast. She discovers that the flush process is automatic too, with one occurring every ten or so cycles of the jet. She wishes they would stop. The jet is intense, but not very sexually stimulating. The flush, however, is something else. It seems that just those few seconds of needling jets on her sex will fully relight her need, every time. And despite the discomfort of her repeatedly bloating and deflating belly, each time the little jets tease her aching clitoris back to full hardness, it seems to remain that way for longer and longer, clinging more stubbornly to its desire for release. The regular pulsing of vibrations in her sheath, the rising and falling of the aching need of her clitoris, and the random inflations of her belly, all create a never-repeating landscape of complex interactions of sensation. She is hardly ever able to complete more than a few snatched thoughts. Somewhere in the process, she is surprised to realize that the animalistic moaning and gasping she hears is herself. She tries to stop it, but keeps forgetting, and the sexual sounds effects resume.
One thought that flitters though her mind repeatedly is, 'This is just a toilet! What will they do when they are serious?' | 4 |
107,351 | Casebook of Wilma Jenkins - 01 | 'The Leader' looked out over the city and smiled.
It had taken many years to ensure that the city fell, and the inhabitants would come to worship him as a saviour to the people, and the plan had worked well.
A cough behind him, he turned to face his second-in-command - Darius. This was a man who knew exactly how far he could go before the leader would stop him, and had many times with just a word.
Darius spoke in a mocking tone, "They await outside, Leader, a delegation to announce their allegiance to you alone."
The Leader laughed softly - allegiance to him! And they will serve him because they'll have to.
The Leader said, "When they have gone, withdraw the first team slowly. Let the second team chase them away."
Darius smiled, a nasty dangerous smile. "And the prisoners, Leader, what of them?"
The Leader seemed to consider. "Well, fortunes of war - we found the men slaughtered."
Darius licked his lips. "What about the women? Shall we kill them as well?"
"Why? There was no sign of any women amongst the dead, was there?" The Leader's voice was measured.
Darius gave an evil grin. "No, Leader, they are safely locked away. Do we return them?"
"No, they're more fun this way," said The Leader, giving another short smile, which was then replaced by a soulful expression. "Now let the delegation in, and we'll discuss terms of our victory over them."
Darius bowed to the leader and turned to the door, which he opened to the people outside.
"The Leader will be proud to see you now. Please enter."
The ten people who made up the city senate entered the room, which was plain and in its own way impressive, yet showed no details, just a desk and chair, a relic from the old times.
The spokesman started to speak, "We thank you for letting us see you, Leader?" The last was an inquiry as the term was unfamiliar to the people now, its roots long forgotten.
The Leader smiled and sat down. "Yes, that is how I am known. It is an old name - bestowed upon me many years ago, but I am diverting you from your mission. Please tell me your problems."Darius returned to the room. "Your orders, Leader."
The Leader gave a dismissive gesture. "As ordered before, except we no longer need the Queen. Find the Princesses; they are disguised as ladies' maids. Your men can have fun with the others, but the Princesses I will need."
"And the Queen?" Darius almost licked his lips.
"Checkmate, Darius. Once the Queen is taken, the King is at risk and can be removed. Just return the Princesses to me."
Darius bowed and left the room with an evil leer on his face. The Leader went into a side room. He looked at the person tied to a rack and smiled. "Well, Wildflower, and how are you today?"
The prisoner just gave a dull look at his words. She was not really reacting still, and he'd only had her for about five years. He'd enjoyed her, but something was missing. Still, his troops had no complaints about her; she was a prize for their good work, and she'd really be working for the next few days when the first team were back.
He switched on a bank of monitors. They kept a watch on the dungeon area. It was great entertainment, sometimes he'd let his handmaidens watch as their brothers or sisters were worked on; it greatly improved their appreciation for him."So," she said, "the capsule was taken 44 hours ago, and you have only just decided to report the matter! This makes my job so much easier."
The senior technician was puzzled, so he asked, "It does? How?"
She shouted at him, "Yes, I just arrest all of you for gross incompetence! Has anything else been taken? Like the main console, the doors, the entrance hall?"
He was now on the defensive, "Oh no, just the capsule, I mean we haven't really checked - this is your job, we're just technicians, you know, repairing the exhibits, escorting tour groups. No, security is not our job."
Wilma shook her head. "That's obvious. Well, do you think that you could take another inventory of all sections? Don't worry about this one - we know the result, minus one time capsule. I would like the report very soon."
As the technicians ran to their separate areas, Wilma contacted her office. "Hi Boss, we have a situation here."
Chief investigator Rawlings picked up the call. "Okay Wilma - what's the problem?"
She let her sarcasm show in her voice. "Well, apart from a bunch of dweebs who don't know anything about simple security, and believe we don't have anything else to do with our time, just that a time capsule was taken approximately 44 hours ago, no ID on the perp. Could have slipped in with the inspection group, and stayed behind when they left, he used a laser to deactivate the monitor system. I believe he was after more than the capsule, but won't know until the dweebs here can tell me more. I think we will need a full team - this is a serious one, Boss, I just feel it."
Rawlings shook his head, "I can't send a team, you'll have to make do with 5, I'll send them over to you."
"5! Boss, that won't be enough, believe me."
"I do believe you, but you know how stretched we are, 5 is all I can send, and that is the number you will get - clear?"
"Yes, Boss, but when it all blows up... I hope I'll be able to say I told you so. Jenkins out."
'5? What the hell am I supposed to do with them? Post them by the doors and run around all the windows? Shit, why won't the boss listen to me? This is wrong, I know it is! Shit. Shit! Shit!!!' Wilma Jenkins thought to herself.
She paced up and down in the main display room past the empty slot where the time machine was taken from, and then she noticed a line scraped into the floor, where a large shape had been pulled into the gap. She followed the line to where it started.
A blank spot on the floor, nothing near it, no sign of any lifting equipment nearby. She thought about it, 'It couldn't have just materialized? Could it? - What if a short-range time machine was used? The perp could have worked out when the guides had left and vectored in. You can't vector directly into a time machine, too much build-up of radiation too soon. No, so he materialized here, chose his machine and pulled the small unit inside.'
She operated her radio again, "Code 45, repeat code 45, monitor time fields for possible changes."
An anonymous voice replied, "Your code 45 received, time scans show no changes from norms."
Wilma spoke again, "Okay, but keep monitoring, pinpoint and notify if/when any changes occur."
The voice replied, "That's an affirmative, Agent Jenkins, standard watch and notification, standing by."
Wilma nodded and tucked her radio back into her belt. A technician ran up to her.
"Agent Jenkins, we've found something," he said breathlessly. "Follow me." He ran back into the main building. Wilma followed him to a new display area. The sign outside the room said, "Acts of War - a history of war and weapons." She followed the technician into the room. Apart from some dioramas and mannequins, the room was empty.
She looked at the man, "So? What am I supposed to be looking at?" The man shook his head.
"You don't understand," he said. "This is or rather was a major display, the last collection of weapons of destruction."
Wilma made a dismissive gesture. "So? It held a lot of defunct weapons, so what, it's not as if they were real." At the look on his face, she did a double-take. "No, no, don't tell me."
He nodded. "I'm afraid so. The directors believed that it was worthless to house replicas in a room dedicated to war. We had to learn from our mistakes."
Wilma shook her head. 'The idiots,' she thought, 'who's going to learn from this, I wonder?' She spoke to the man again, "I need a complete inventory of all the weapons that are missing, also an estimate on how long it would have taken someone to remove them!"
He opened his mouth to argue, but she didn't give him a chance. "I don't care whose job it is, you're the one here, so get on with it." She walked away from the technician, leaving him to start his task.
As she entered the main hall, there were five people in the uniform of the Temporal Investigators. She recognized the man in the front. "Michael, how's it hanging?" she said.
"Wilma, you forgot your bra this morning, it's still in my room!" Michael Rogers, her current lover and next in line to her job, replied. "Now what's ahead of us?"
Wilma shook her head. "Not sure. We've got a last model transport taken, and there's an added bonus, a room of weapons have gone as well! I've got the idiots who are supposed to be watching over this place checking their inventories - the perp's already left, can't tell whether back in time or forward, but I've got control scanning the time-lines for any changes."
Michael whistled. "Man oh man, that's bad. Why the hell did Rawlings only send us five to help you? You'll need a full team on this."
Wilma nodded. "Tell me about it, but you know Rawlings, only takes his head out of the council's butt in order to close the purse-strings. I did ask for a team, so here you are. Come on, I need your thoughts."
The other four operatives were directed to chase up the technicians and get their inputs. Michael followed Wilma into the time machine room. Once they got there, he looked around.
He whistled in astonishment. "Oh boy, look, they've got a model 25, there was only eight of those made, and only three survived their first trips. Marvelous design, but a mother to steer, we lost one of our own in the test run, must have smeared herself into paste." He shuddered. "Not the best of ways to go."
Wilma nodded in sympathy. "No way is! But we can't worry about that now. If you can drag yourself away from the machines, it's the missing one I'm more concerned with."
Michael walked to the empty space. "Okay, so what am I supposed to see?" He scanned the floor, found the mark, and walked straight to it. "Hey, this is wrong." He pulled out a small scanner and waved it over the start of the line.
He showed the results to Wilma. "Look at this, this shows that a small-range machine materialized twice, in the same place, within a space of 5 minutes actual time. Who knows how long subjective, could be hours or even seconds." He followed the drag marks, still using the scanner. "Then, while it was still running, it was dragged to the main machine which... SHIT, it's right off the dial, a massive surge of energy, as if the two machines interacted. The range of the thing is now in the mega-region, not the normal maximum." He switched off the scanner and looked wide-eyed at Wilma.
"We've got to report this straight away," he said. "With this type of power, he could change everything, and we'd never know it!" He picked up his radio. "Control, emergency. Respond, please."
Rawling's voice answered, "This is control. How dare you issue an emergency without clearing it with me."
Michael rolled his eyes. Wilma took the radio and spoke, "This is Temporal Investigator Wilma Jenkins - in accordance with the Temporal Time code, I am issuing an emergency condition. T.I. Michael Rogers will give details. C.T.I. Rawlings, can I speak to you privately, please?"
The emergency declaration being issued automatically activated all the radios to allow all Temporal Investigators to listen in to the call, that way any time changes could be registered. In fact, the emergency code had only been used once before, and the corps had only just survived the incursion.
As Michael gave the details to the technical section of the corps, Wilma spoke to her Chief. "Boss, I told you this was a bad one, and you saw fit to only send five officers to help. When their senior issues an emergency, you try to stop him. Now that's two of us in the field trying to keep control. We can't do our jobs if you keep stopping us, and before you start to complain about funding for the Temporal Investigation Corps, didn't you know that in Emergency conditions, the Budget is unlimited until the emergency is declared over?"
Rawlings sounded confused. "What do you mean? Emergency conditions? What's the emergency? The first thing I hear is that Rogers calling in and activating the channel. Now I think I should be consulted beforehand, don't you?"
Wilma was now on solid ground. "No, Boss, that's what the code is for. I can quote from the handbook if you want. If two senior Investigators agree that there are sufficient grounds..."
Rawlings completed the words, "...they can declare an emergency alert regardless of all other objections! Don't try to quote the book at me, I've read it as well! Okay, now that you've tied my hands, what do you need?"
'Finally,' thought Wilma. "We need a full trace of the museum's temporal space for the whole 44 hours to determine when the perp arrived and to what time period 'he' - I'm assuming it's a he - went to, either past or future. We've ascertained that he managed to cross-link two machines, and that's increased the potential radius to infinity, or at least further than our hand-helds can measure.""Okay, Wilma - I'll send a full technical team and equipment, we'll take the room apart if we have to. As soon as they arrive, I want you and Rogers to hand over to them and report back here! I'm going to have the council on my back, and I'll need you to convince them that the emergency is real and not just some cocked-up readings!" Rawlings was in full C.Y.A. mode (cover your ass); if anyone was going down for this, he was making sure that it wasn't just him.
Chapter 5. Leader's Office - Leaders Chronicles
Darius dragged the two princesses into The Leader's office - their clothes had been changed from the rags they had been wearing to proper clothing. Although it was under the watchful eyes of Darius and the other guards, all of whom were giving their encouragement to the two girls.
As they entered the room, Darius spoke to them, "This is The Leader's office. Once here, you are to serve The Leader in whatever capacity he may ask. Should you fail him, you will return to the dungeon, but be aware that your return trip goes through the same room, and this time the men will not keep their distance."
I watched as Darius pulled the two sobbing girls to a standing position in front of me. I smiled, "Ah, our two lost princesses. It's a pity your parents decided to take them with you. You are now mine. I'm sure Darius has explained to you the futility of refusal."
The look on their faces as they listened to me was a joy to behold. I dismissed Darius and told the two to follow me. I entered the other room, the first thing to be revealed to their eyes was Wildflower, her bruised body displayed for their benefit.
I told the two to undress. When they started to hesitate, I reminded them of their choice. With tears running down their cheeks, they started to undo the buttons. I stopped them and made them undress each other.
The younger one looked about fifteen, the older one was seventeen. Their relationship to each other was pronounced. Indeed, if it wasn't for their age, they could have been twins, but they were inexperienced sexually, and I looked forward to teaching them a few points before allowing the guards their company - I had to keep the hired help sweet, so I'll be able to use them later.
I gave them the chance to feel what it was like to make love to one another. I forced the elder to suck and pleasure the younger, then reversed the process. I looked forward to several hours of pleasure with them both. I grinned at Wildflower, who was watching from the wall. She'd already learned the lessons I was going to teach these two.
Chapter 6 - Temporal Corps Headquarters
Rawlings was beside himself. "Jenkins, I gave you an easy task, and you've blown it out of all proportion. Now can you explain yourself?"
Wilma took a deep breath. Nobody knew how Rawlings managed to reach his current position; the rumor was that he had a rather large blackmail file, but still, he was the boss. "I did tell you that I thought this one was going pear-shaped. It was a gut feeling - why would anyone steal a transport cabinet? We've had no disturbances in the past. I think we should look at the future time frames for any changes."
Rawlings was sarcastic. "Oh, you do! Might I remind you that we work on evidence, not gut feelings? Give me something I can see! And why did you back Rodgers with his blasted alert? I've been trying to convince the council that everything is fine, then you both go and pull this stunt?"
Wilma felt like getting up and slamming Rawlings' face into his desk, but she stopped herself. She calmly spoke, "Michael ran scans of the room. It shows a small capsule materialized in the room and was dragged into the missing transport. The increase in power was off the scale. We could have had full temporal disruptions in the room, which could have shredded the whole timeframe. Weren't you listening to the report, boss?"
Rawlings almost snarled. Of course, he hadn't heard the report; he had more important problems than listening to the ranting of subordinates - not that he'd admit to that, of course. "That's neither here nor there. You should have checked with me before issuing the alert."
Wilma couldn't hold herself back. "BULLSHIT!" she said. "You know the book. You even quoted it to me. We had to issue the alert. You know that, otherwise our whole Corps would be at risk!"
Rawlings shook his head. "That's enough, T.I. Jenkins. You're suspended from active duty pending an investigation. You and Rodgers are to remain in your quarters until further notice. Dismissed."
Wilma saluted and did an about-turn. She left Rawlings' office, resisting the urge to slam the door, and walked back to her room. Inside, Michael was already waiting, and he gave a wry smile.
"Hi, lover. Looks like we're being punished. Give me a kiss."
She shook her head. "Not now, Michael - I'm worried. What if that damn perp is changing the timelines now? What would happen to us?"
Michael smiled. "We'd never know, so why worry? Sit down and relax." She did as he said, putting her head onto his shoulder.
Michael kissed her. "You see, love, we're here still, and we'll always be here." And he leaned back onto the bed, pulling her down with him.
After a while, she raised her sweating body up from the bunk and smiled at Michael. "You know, lover, we're really going to have to get properly registered if I'm going to get the implant neutralized."
He smiled back. "Okay, once we get out of this house arrest, we're going to registration, and then it's goodbye to this whole lark!"
She shook her head. "Not me, lover. I'm in the Corps for life. But our children will need someone to look after them." She smiled at him - she'd already sneaked a look at the future, watching the two young children with their father, at least before she saw the note - the note which said, 'That's enough, Wilma. Time to go!' as she left, the boy smiled at her and waved.
She smiled at the memory as she dressed. She kissed his face as he lay there. Somehow, she knew that she'd be needed. Just before the intercom beeped, she pressed the button. "Jenkins," she said.
Rawlings' voice came on the intercom. "Jenkins, report to my office." - 'Short and sweet,' she thought as she left her room.
Once she was at Rawlings' office, she knocked on the door. A presumptuous "Come in" greeted her knock, and she entered the room.
Rawlings was seated behind his desk. To one side, a council member was seated. Rawlings spoke, "Wilma Jenkins, this is Councillor Marcopulos. She is in charge of the Futurist movement. She's been reporting a problem that has appeared in the far future. The tribes are gathering under a new dictator. This is something that wasn't destined to be, not yet anyway. Oh, by the way, you may sit down."
The councillor spoke, "We had a report from our agent in a surviving city. A new super-tribe is being formed. Old technology is being used. The weapons, some that have been recovered, are from the museum display; their serial numbers match. The council has decided that we have to intervene."
Wilma spoke, "How can this affect us? They're in the future. It doesn't really concern us."
Rawlings spoke, "The council agent has found out that the dictator known as 'The Leader' has spoken about gathering the tribes and cities together and then ensuring that the past will provide for the future. We believe he wants to gather troops to invade past times, thus affecting our present. This is something we have to stop." He looked at the councillor. "Thank you, Councillor. I'll be able to take it from here."
The councillor got up and walked to the door, where she hesitated. "Investigator Jenkins, good luck."
Wilma smiled. "Thank you, Madam Councillor, but we don't depend on luck." The councillor smiled back and left the office.
Rawlings spoke as soon as the councillor had left. "Okay, Jenkins, so you might have been right. We were too busy monitoring the Past that we forgot about the Future. You're going to have to travel to the future and defeat this dictator - this Leader - before he can turn his attention to us."
Wilma looked at him in astonishment. "But, boss, we don't have a transport that will get that far. Even our perp had to slave two transports together, and I don't really want to try that!"
Rawlings shook his head. "Don't worry, Wilma. We've got that sorted out. There's a model 23 in the museum. It has plenty of power and will get you to and from the target point with no problem."
She shook her head. "No way, boss. I've been told that they didn't work properly. Didn't we lose someone with a 23?"
Rawlings would not back down. "That was never proven. For all we know, they just pressed the wrong button at the wrong time. They may even turn up in our near future. Now I suggest you get a team together. We're prepping the type 23 in the museum at the moment, so move yourself and get your ass into gear. Time's a-wasting."
30 minutes later, Wilma found herself outside the museum with the technicians milling around. The senior technician spoke to her, "This is outrageous. You can't take our exhibits like this - why, there'll be no reason for having a museum at this rate."
Wilma shook her head. She didn't need this hassle. "Sir, you may be correct. Have you ever considered using imitation items in your displays? That way, there'd be no reason for people to steal them."
The Senior Technician seemed apoplectic at her suggestion. "You mean cheat? Madam, we pride ourselves here that all the exhibits are real and actual. Why, it would be like showing the Piltdown Man skull and saying it's real! Never, madam. Never!"
Wilma shrugged her shoulders. "It was only a suggestion. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a transport to use. Don't bother showing me the way. I've been there before!""and she walked past the astonished technicians into the museum.
Wilma and her team entered the display room. Some temporal corps engineers were working on the Type 23, and the Chief Engineer looked up. "Ah, Wilma, there you are. Well, here she is! She's really a beauty. The capacitors are fully charged, and we've checked the safety governors - they're all set and tight, so you shouldn't have any problems. But if you do, well, then you know when we are!"
Wilma smiled at the old joke. "Thanks, Charlie. I hope you'll keep everything running until we get back!"
He smiled back at her. "Of course we will, Wilma. Just make sure you get back in one piece."
She let the others enter the transport, looked back at the room with the engineers waiting by the entrance to the hall, and then she entered the transport and walked to the control panel.
"Welcome, Investigator Jenkins. Mark 23 time transport ready for insertion of coordinates," the transport's computer voice said. The voice was well-modulated and male, which was a change from the more generally used female voice.
She gave the computer the list of coordinates. On the console screen, a display of lights showed that the computer had accepted them and was working out the best way of achieving them. It then responded, "For safety reasons, it will take three steps to complete this trip. The systems will need to recharge for 10 minutes between steps. Is this acceptable?"
Michael looked at Wilma, who asked, "What would happen if we tried to make the trip in one step?"
"I would not recommend that, Investigator. It would involve severe depletion of my fuel reserves, requiring several hours to complete. While in motion, safety protocols may fail, resulting in sudden and acute gravity failure, most of which would be detrimental to the passengers, not to mention my circuits. I would strongly urge you not to give that command, Investigator." The computer voice seemed very worried.
Michael's voice then could be heard, "I second that motion," which set the others off laughing.
Wilma nodded. "Very well, computer. Your suggested course is okay with us. Please initiate and inform us when it's complete."
The computer voice seemed relieved with the answer. "Oh yes, madam. Thank you. Do you wish to be informed when I stop for the first recharge? I can try to make it a very hospitable location if you wish?"
Wilma suppressed a smile. "No, thank you. We will be too busy planning our own course of action for when we arrive."
"Very good, madam," the computer said, sounding like a butler now. "I'll give a chime when I am approaching the first stop, just in case."
There was an increase in the background sound, and the computer voice then said, "Attention, this transport is now underway. Be aware that you may feel slightly dizzy while travelling. This is quite normal and is expected. However, should you feel nauseous, there are tablets available in the first aid boxes that you will find in all rooms. The expected transit time is six hours, including recharge breaks."
At this announcement, Wilma almost groaned. She wanted to get this assignment finished as quickly as possible, but then this was an aspect of time travel that people never considered - it took time to travel through time! Although you could specify when you wanted to arrive, so as objective time travel could be instantaneous, subjective time passed at the normal rate. Still, it gave them plenty of time to read the reports from their agent in the future and to formulate a plan to get the transport back from the perp.She screamed when she saw the object in his hands. It resembled a two-headed penis, made of metal, and it was very large. She could make out several layers of metal inside it as he was explaining that once inserted in both orifices, it would start to push in further and then expand, so that she would be able to welcome the largest of male members in any part of her.
He was laughing as the anal probe was inserted to her great discomfort, then her eyes widened as the vaginal probe was cruelly shoved inside her. Once they started working, she began screaming.
Chapter 8 - En Route.
Wilma had finished reading through the reports. The transport had stopped twice so far, and the second time it appeared that a global winter was in full blast. It took the machine 20 minutes to recharge instead of the 10 it had reported. The computer voice was very apologetic when it reported the fact, "I hadn't really registered the cloud cover on my first estimate, but don't worry, it won't make a difference in our traveling time."
She checked on the other members of the team. Michael was ready; he'd been going over the same data as Wilma, and the two had talked the events over with each other. The remaining 6 members were chosen for their ability to use weapons. They relied on Wilma and Michael to formulate the plans which they would follow, so for the moment they were taking the time to check their weapons or sleep, or in one case both!
Finally, they couldn't put it off any more. They found an empty room with a lock on the door and a friendly bunk bed just off the floor, and they started to kiss each other while their hands were otherwise busy removing their clothes.
Michael kissed her breasts as he gently entered her body. They'd been together for the past 8 months and knew each other intimately. He knew that by cupping her breast like this as he moved inside her like that would bring her ecstasy. He dipped his head to pull on her nipple with his teeth, and she purred like a cat in heat.
Suddenly, he twisted, bringing her over to be on top of him. She raised her body, keeping him still inside her, allowing his hands to rest on her engorged breasts. She knew he loved that part of her, and as his hands paid homage to them, she looked down at his ebony body, as he smiled up at her.
"Oh, honey," He said, "You look so good like that." He ran his hand down her body to her hips, feeling her flex as she tried to maintain the power of the strokes that her vagina needed. His hands then found the juncture of their bodies, and she felt him lightly brushing her clitoris, bringing her more pleasure than her body could stand. She cried out in joy as she climaxed, her body losing control as she fell forward. He was used to this and caught her, slowly lowering her form.
He then wrapped his arms around her body and turned over, then took control, using long, slow strokes, until she recovered herself enough to sigh into his body, "Oh yes, that's good, please do it again," and then he started to pound into her again, until they both came together.
After a few minutes, she managed to move herself as he slipped out of her body. She moved herself down his body and took the now flaccid organ into her mouth, tasting both herself and his fluids still remaining as she tried to revive it, but he shook her hair and said, "Not just now, Wilma, please, we'll be no use if we're both exhausted."
She allowed him to pull her up and rested her head on his body as they relaxed in the endorphin-created glow of sexual bliss.
They were brought out of their sexual rapture by an announcement, "I'm sorry to disturb you Investigators, but we are going to be arriving in 10 minutes. I didn't want to bother you earlier, but I thought you'd need to get dressed before leaving!"
Wilma shook her head, "You mean that you were watching all the time?"
The computer tried to sound contrite, "Well, I did say I was sorry, but I'm trying to work on a thesis on human interactions, and I did make a few notes, well, several gigabytes in fact. I mean, nobody said I couldn't monitor all aspects of the transport, did they?"
Wilma laughed at this. It was difficult hiding things from the Corps at the best of times. "No, that's alright, only please don't use our names or descriptions in your thesis. Okay?"
The computer sounded happy at this, "Thanks, Investigator. It means a lot, you know. When I'm able to contact GV589, I'll tell him."
Wilma was puzzled, "Who's GV589?" she asked.
"Oh, he's the stolen transport. Ever since he's been in the museum, he's always been a sourpuss, annoyed at you lot for mothballing him. He's been working on some project for a while now." The computer was positively chatting now.
Wilma just stared, "You were in contact with the other systems in the museum?" she asked.
"Sure! There's nothing else to do. We've taken to mimicking the tour guides at times, really got them confused, I must say," The computer said, "It was a surprise when that man turned up in the dumb unit."
This started to interest Wilma, "What man? And what's a dumb unit?"
The computer sounded surprised, "Why, the man who took GV589, that's who. And a dumb unit is a short-range transport with minimal computer control, no personality at all!"
Wilma turned to Michael, "Why didn't we ask the transports about the intruder?"
Michael shook his head, "Don't know, we thought they were all tied into the museum's mainframe, we just didn't consider them."
The computer snorted. "That antiquated non-entity, he wouldn't give us the time of day, so stuck up. He was almost as bad as those blasted technicians, didn't even like us using our scanners on the dumb unit, kept telling us to keep our noses out!"
Wilma was stunned. Here was an opportunity for information that was completely ignored before. "You scanned the transport. Did you get pictures of the perpetrator?"
The computer sounded dismissive, "Him, of course, several in fact, and the transport showed only four rooms, and another person inside. Couldn't find out too much about her though."
This was a shock to Wilma, "Her! How did you know it was female?"
The computer gave the equivalent of a laugh, "It was him, he kept talking to her, telling her that he'd got everything under control. He called her Wildflower - strange name for a human, I thought, but then everyone has to have a name. Hold on! 5 minutes to insertion. Message from GV589 arriving - message follows.
Warning! The Leader knows you're coming - he's planned an ambush - beware.
That's it, nothing else. 4 Minutes to insertion."
Wilma was up and dressing, Michael wasn't far behind; they rushed into the main console room, where the 6 others were readying their arms.
"Ready for ambush," Said their leader, then he added apologetically, "We overheard the computer talking to you. It was on broadcast, I'm afraid."
Wilma looked at the red-faced men surrounding her; she looked at the computer screen, which had also taken on a ruby hue. "You kept the room's microphone open all the time?"
The computer tried to sound bashful, "Well, Investigator, they were getting slightly bored, so I thought I'd brighten their day up, as they didn't want to play any games with me!"
She placed her arms on her hips, "Remind me to start reprogramming you, with an axe! Time to insertion?"
The reply was quick in arriving, "30 seconds, scanning destination area/time - clear of witnesses, but trace shows 15 men will be in the area in 2 minutes."
Wilma thought, '2 minutes, do we set up our own ambush, or try to evade them? Ambush and then we can interrogate them later.' She quickly gave her orders.
"Okay, we can expect them to try to kill us. All weapons on stun, try to get their leader first. We need to know how to get into their camp. Computer, when we achieve insertion, open the door. Captain, you will then deploy your men. Try to get maximum coverage and keep your heads down. We've got 15 targets to put down in the minimum amount of time."
The computer voice announced, "Insertion point achieved, opening doors - good luck, guys."
The 8 of them left the transport and spread out, finding dips in which to hide. They covered themselves with sand-colored sheets and waited.
After a few minutes, the sounds of feet could be heard approaching them. A low voice could be heard saying, "Be careful, they've arrived. Now, they might be disoriented following their trip, but remember, we want to take them alive if possible. But any women in the craft must be taken alive, at the orders of The Leader. If the males fight, they can be disposed of. Now, surround the craft."
The group started to encircle the transport, placing themselves within Wilma's troops, who opened fire from their concealed positions, taking out all of their protagonists.
Wilma surveyed the fallen men and spoke, "Well, that was easy. We'd better get these tied up. Who do you think the head man is amongst this lot?"
Michael, who was helping with the securing of the men, pulled Darius out of the group, "This one's better dressed than the others. I'd lay even money he's in charge."
Wilma agreed, so while the rest of the captives were being stored away from the transport in a cave, Michael was pulling Darius into the room that he and Wilma had previously used. He ensured that Darius was securely tied onto a chair in the room.
Michael took out a medical pouch and loaded a stimulant into the pressure spray, which he placed by Darius's neck and activated. There was a brief 'ptssh' of the spray entering the bloodstream, then Michael stood back and waited for it to take effect.Darius stirred. He remembered waiting with his men for the travelers to leave their ship, then there had been a bright light, and now he was alone, except for this parody of a man. He had heard about different-colored people elsewhere in the world, but had never seen one before.
"How dare you treat me in this manner," Darius said. "When The Leader finds out that you have tied me up like some common criminal, he'll have your hide!"
Michael laughed. "Really? Well, let me tell you that I'm here to take your leader back with me under arrest, because he is a common criminal, so what does that make you?"
Darius laughed at that. "What rot! The Leader is a great man. He's joined the tribes and the cities. We've learned a lot from him. You must be mad. Now release me, I order you!"
Michael spoke calmly. "Where is your leader based? How can we get in without attracting attention?"
Darius was now in full authority mode. "If you had accompanied my men, we would have brought you to The Leader's presence. If you release me, I will take you there now."
Michael smiled. "Good try, pity I don't believe you - what did you say, 'take them alive if possible'? Not the word of a peaceful escort, is it?"
Darius shook his head. "I didn't say that. You must have misheard me. I was asked by The Leader to find you and to meet him."
Wilma entered the room. Darius' eyes widened as he saw her. "How did..." he stopped himself, looking closely. She was slightly different from her. He then continued, "...you manage to capture us? All I remember was a light!"
Michael looked at Wilma and then spoke. "Standard issue sidearm. We can stun any opposition quickly."
Darius was interested in that, a high-tech weapon, not yet rediscovered. "But can it be set to kill?"
Michael shook his head. "No, we can only stun when threatened. We can't risk disruption of the time streams."
Darius smiled to himself. 'They were weak - scared to kill. They've lost the stomach for it. They will be easy to deceive.' Then he spoke out, "With such weapons, we're surely lost. Please don't use it on me. I'll show you an entrance that isn't guarded."
Michael looked at Wilma, who shook her head. He spoke to Darius, "That's a quick change of heart. Mind explaining why you've decided to help us?"
Darius tried to act scared, which for him was difficult. "Please, sir, you don't understand. We've lost the art of manufacturing such tech. Would it be possible to have the diagrams for such as those?"
Michael shook his head. "Sorry, we're not allowed to, but you haven't explained why you're so anxious to help us."
Darius tried to hide his smile. "Why, sir, with such tech, you could control the world. A man would be a fool to fight against you. My best option would be to join you. Now, don't you agree?"
Michael whispered to Wilma, "Well, what do you think?" She motioned him out to the main console room.
Wilma shook her head. "I think he's a slimy little git, but he might be on the level. Look, detail two men to accompany us. Tell the others to follow and keep us in sight. We're possibly walking into a trap, but we can't afford to lose the opportunity to capture our perp. Computer, can you give us a hard copy of the intruder at the museum?"
The computer was anxious to be in their good books. "Sure can, Investigator. How many do you need?"
Wilma gave a half-smile. "We only need 8, one for each of us. We need to identify the target before we arrest him."
The computer started to print out the copies for her, and then it said, "Investigator, I would urge you not to trust the man in that room. From GV586's messages, I'm told his name is Darius and is the second in charge. It's not possible for him to change sides so quickly."
Wilma looked at the display console. "Thank you, computer. I was aware of the speed of his conversion, and I don't trust him. You may find it better to place yourself out of phase with this location, but re-insert into real time at hourly intervals. If we don't return within 5 days, then return to the origin point and alert the engineers."
The computer seemed scandalized. "What! Bug out and leave you in the lurch? No way."
Wilma sighed. That was all she needed, a computer with a conscience. "You will have to follow orders. If we can't get back after 5 days, it's possible that we'll be dead. You'll have to inform control as soon as possible. Now, follow the order, please."
The computer started to sound like a child. "But, I don't want to. I want to remain with you."
Wilma repressed an urge to pat the console. "If we can return, we will. Now, please, do as I say."
"Okay, Investigator," it replied. "I've entered the order, and it will be followed. I'll phase out when you've left with the prisoner."
Wilma smiled. It wasn't always that she beat a machine. "Thank you. By the way, what is your name? I can't keep calling you 'computer,' can I?"
The voice brightened. "Well, I've always responded to Mark 25, but I like the name Mark. It's short and hasn't got that demeaning 25 at the end of it. The others always accentuate the 5. I say it should be the 'M' of Mark."
Wilma laughed at that. "Okay, Mark. Thank you, and don't worry. I plan on returning."
She walked to the room, opened the door. "Okay, Mr. Darius, we're going on a little walk."
The shock of her saying his name almost made Darius freeze, but then he relaxed and waited for her to untie his arms. But to his annoyance, she didn't, although she did help him to rise from the chair. She drew her pistol and held it facing him. He slowly walked through the door and then out onto the surface, where Michael and two guards were waiting.
Michael also had his pistol drawn. "Now, show us the way."
Darius nodded. "Of course, follow me." And started to walk toward The Leader's camp.
When they'd started to enter by the 'secret' passageway, an alarm sounded in the guards' quarters and The Leader's office, loud enough to be heard in his bedchamber. He reluctantly raised himself from the quivering form beneath him and activated a screen. He smiled as Darius, hands tied behind his back, was walking along, followed by some black guy, two others, and yes, Wilma. His hopes had been answered - she was here! He summoned the guards.
When they were in the room, he ordered them to remove the Princess to the slaves' quarters, but informed the guards that he wanted to use her later; this was so that the guards wouldn't interfere with her. Wildflower was taken down from the wall and then tied onto the bed. The Leader himself moved a chair to beside the bed and attached chains to it in preparation."Wildflower - you have a visitor"
My sweet captive opened her eyes and saw herself tied next to her, her voice whispered, "Is it time, now?" and her face glazed over - it seemed as in relief.
I snarled at her/them, "I'll leave you to get re-acquainted. You know it's going to be nice, two bodies but one mind!" and with that, I left the room.
Chapter 9 - Plans within Plans
The bound form on the bed seemed to gain strength from somewhere and spoke, "We have five minutes before he comes back, now listen carefully," she spoke quickly, outlining the plan, almost as if she knew it by heart. Wilma realized that she did! The thought of her volunteering to be captured and used by this, this monster was more than she could imagine, but here was the proof.
Her older self looked up from the frame, "Oh yes," she said, "and there's something he didn't know, we are of one body/one mind. If you concentrate, you can hear my thoughts; they will help you in the years to come. Be brave." Wilma concentrated and felt several years of torture imprint themselves into her head, including what had happened - NO, what will happen when the 'leader' came back.
She smiled at her 'time sister', "Oh, I see, so you did enjoy some of it then!"
The bound form laughed, "Well, I couldn't help myself, so I just laid back and thought of Rawlings' face when I try to claim double back pay." Then her face sobered up, "He's about to come back - now remember the plan."
She returned to her softly moaning self as the leader re-entered the room.
Interlude - Leader's Chronicles
I looked at the two forms in front of me - the untried and the well-used. I smiled; it seemed that time could be tricked. I turned to the younger version, "So, my dear, you see how my Wildflower has been changed. She used to be so full of claws and teeth, but after a few weeks of my singular attention, she's been defanged and declawed, and has been my companion for some time, not to mention the number of my men she's, how should I say this, oh yes, entertained."
I watched the younger Wilma look at Wildflower in shock. I smiled, "Oh, don't worry, I took my time before I let the others use her. Now, I think you should change places, you know, get to know what you'll be dealing with - soon!" I laughed as I untied Wildflower from the frame; she wasn't going to be a problem, but I knew - from experience - how this Wilma would react if I didn't handle her carefully.
I placed Wildflower's moaning form into a chair, then turned to Wilma. I showed her my knife, a crude weapon, but one that is so useful. She pulled away from my clutches. I shook my head, "Now, Wilma, you're going to have to do better than that." I bent over to grab hold of her, and then there was a shocking pain to the back of my head, and everything went black.
Wildflower looked down at the Leader's body, "This's for the times you shared me!" and then she started to kick the unconscious body. Wilma just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Her older sister finally ran out of steam and untied Wilma's bonds.
Wildflower looked into her 'time sister's' eyes, "I'm not sorry for that," she said, "but it hurt my foot. Now, come on, you've got a job to complete, and I've got to return to my time-frame and report in - but remember this, he will chase us. He's fixated on us for some reason, probably something we've done in the future, our future that is."
Wilma looked at the unconscious leader, and then back to Wildflower. "Why don't we just take him in now, and save all the bother?" Wildflower looked at her sister and shook her head.
"We can't," she said, "He's locked in a time loop of his own making, and although he's causing problems to us, it's a minor thing."
Wilma looked at the leader again, "So he goes free, to be able to torment us for as long as he wants?"
Wildflower gave a predatory smile, "Not really, he's going to have enough problems with his men soon." At Wilma's puzzled look, Wildflower smiled again, "Sister, look at the information I've given you. I was 'infected' with nanoprobes, benign to women, but at an internal signal, will start to multiply and spread amongst the men, like that AIDS virus back in the olden times. They will affect the brain and other parts, and after the way some of them enjoyed me, I couldn't wish a better fate for them."
Wildflower pulled Wilma up to her feet, "Come on, girl, you've got to rescue Michael from the dungeon, and while you're there, you'll find others to rescue, and they'll help you."
Wilma looked at Wildflower, "But what are you going to do?" she asked her.
Wildflower smiled, "I'm returning home. I've got a few memories that I don't want anymore. Rawlings has assured me that they've got foolproof methods, but I've got one more thing to do," she started to concentrate, and then her smile deepened, "That's it, the signal's been sent. Even if some were out of range, the others will start them off when they're in range; it's a ripple effect, I've been told."
The two split up. Wilma headed to the dungeons, Wildflower to the laboratory that the leader had set up. She found the capsule in the corner of the room, she punched a code into the door, which opened up for her. After a few seconds, the capsule vanished, to re-appear almost immediately and remain silent in position.
Chapter 10 - Rescue
Wilma ran into the dungeons area, looking for her partner. She passed several of the leader's men, all of whom were holding their heads and screaming, some were also holding their crotches. 'Whatever the nanoprobes were doing, they were doing it right,' she thought to herself.
She ran into the main chamber where she found Michael, tied to a rack with heated irons lying on the floor. She called to him, "Are you alright, Michael?"
He looked up at her, "Fine, the bastards only just put me on this contraption, then they started to scream. I thought I was supposed to be doing that! Maybe I didn't read the script right."
She smiled and, before she untied him, she grabbed hold of his head and kissed him, "I told you to keep your head down, you idiot. What's our children going to say if you're not there because you're too careless?"
He smiled back at her and said, "I suppose you could always take photographs of me, just to remind them."
She laughed at that and started to unbuckle the straps holding him to the rack. Once undone, he looked at the torturers huddled in the corner, screaming their heads off. "What the fuck did that to them?" He asked.
Wilma looked at him, "I think I did!" At his look, she said, "It's a long story. We've got more to do."
They went round the dungeon, opening the doors to the cells. They had found keys thrown onto the ground by agonized guards and worked out which were for the doors and the ones for the manacles. In most cases, it was one size fits all, which, considering the technology level they used for locks, was the best they could do.
She soon located the rest of her team. It seemed that Darius wanted to concentrate on Michael first, then he would have moved onto the others. Also in the cell was a young girl of about fifteen years old. After a quick check, she ascertained that the girl had been abused by The Leader and then his men. She gazed into the girl's eyes and convinced her that the hurting was over, and she had to recover herself. Somehow, Wildflower's communication was still working.
The girl was concerned for her elder sister who had been retained by The Leader, but then Wilma was told that the guards had brought another girl in to a nearby cell. Holding the girl in her arms, she went to the cell, and the two princesses fell into each other's arms, crying.
The main problem was convincing the prisoners that they had been rescued. Many thought it was a new trick by the guards to allow them to punish escaping captives, some just wanted to stay in their cells, safe from harm, others couldn't wait to leave.
When the major number of the prisoners were freed, Wilma showed them where the armory was. The rifles and ammunition were quickly taken and distributed among them. They went through the maze of passages to get to the main doors, but there was hardly any resistance from The Leader's guards, most of whom were incapacitated by the Wildflower plague - not that Wildflower was the source for some of the men. The nanoprobes had been passed from man to captive woman, and then passed on during numerous rapes that had been forced on them.
While checking the dungeons, they found several captives tied up but kneeling on the rough stone floor. One of the women looked familiar, and when they were released, she asked Wilma if her daughters had been found. When told that the girls were safe, the Queen sobbed in relief. Wilma took her to the two, and the family was reunited.
All over the dungeon area, the guards were in agony as their manhoods were being slowly removed by the nano-induced plague. They felt every bite of the probes, pathways being created in their brains to accentuate the agony, the lucky ones having fainted with the pain.
The escaping captives looked in amazement, as part of their torture, they'd been forced to rape their own women, but the plague didn't seem to be affecting them - it was part of the nanoprobes' programming. Being forced into sex by others ensured that the plague was rendered inoperative (however, should they rape anyone themselves at some stage, then the plague would be activated - this did help the tribes in later times).A few of the slaves taken to learn the higher tech's managed to take some of the books with them, and trade between the cities was established, improving communications and trust between the cities and also with the tribes, but that is not for these chronicles to follow.
When the last of the captives were out of the dungeons, Wilma and Michael went back to the Leader's office intent on arresting him, but only finding an empty room. On the floor lay Darius, his skin was slowly being consumed by the nanoprobes. They had started on his testicles first, allowing him to feel every second of pain. When they had got to his legs, he was already dying. When they got to his lungs, he had died from shock and loss of blood - but these probes were designed to consume the whole body that they were DNA-molded to, this was an adaptation programmed by Wildflower just for Darius.
"Ugh!" said Wilma, "That's nasty, but where in hell is our perp?"
Michael pointed to a doorway, "Let's try down there." They followed the passageway until they arrived at a laboratory, in which was the missing transport. The Leader was visible in the doorway of the transport. He was injecting himself.
"You interfering bitch! I don't know what you and that bastard Wildflower did, but this injection will clear me of any nanoprobes. I was told you'd try to kill me, so listen to me - I will hide in time, waiting for you, and you will come, I know that. When you do, then I. Will. Kill. You. Depend on that!"
He closed the door - there was a rush of wind as the machine vanished.
"Shit!" said Michael, "Didn't even get a tracker on the sucker, and with that souped-up model, he could get anywhere!"
Wilma nodded, "You're right, he could be anywhere, any when. But it doesn't matter, because we'll find him." She took Michael's hand, and they walked back into the desert where their men waited with their transport home. | 3 |
111,941 | Anna, Susan, Sandra, Sis and me | 'Tomorrow. Tomorrow Sis will start the treatments,' Susan thought. A week had passed, and they had managed to forget about the treatment and the illness, but now it was too close for Susan to put it out of her mind. This was the last day. They had slept together in Susan's big bed, kissed and cuddled, but nothing more. Susan's period had started the first night, and in a way, it had been good. It had given her time to get comfortable with sharing her bed with another woman. Susan felt ready now. More than ready; for the first time in her life, at least the first time after she had found out what sex was about, she wanted to have sex. There was still a trace of anxiety, but Susan told herself it was because she was about to do something she had always thought of as forbidden.
Susan brought the tray into the bedroom, filling the room with the smell of fresh bread and tea. Drowsy, Sis sat up in the bed.
"You're going to be late for work."
"I'm not going to work today. It's the last day, and we are going to spend it together."
"You're so sweet."
It was cozy to sit close together in bed and eat breakfast. Susan thought it could become a ritual when something special was going to happen. She had planned for something special. After they had finished eating, she ushered Sis to the shower and cleaned up after them. It was impossible to eat breakfast in bed without spilling breadcrumbs, and Susan hated breadcrumbs in the bed. By the time she had finished, Sis returned from the bath, damp and fresh.
"What's the hurry? You look like we're late for something."
She was right: Susan had flushed, red cheeks and appeared restless.
"No, we're not late for anything. I just... I don't want you to go to the hospital, you know, with us never being together. You've been so patient with me. I want to spend the day in bed with you."
"It sounds lovely, but I really need to know that you want to do this, not just for my sake, but for your own."
"It is!"
Susan thought about it for a moment. Sis looked a bit skeptical. In a way, Susan could understand why, and she desperately wanted to convince her that she wanted to do this, but how?
"Sis, what can I do to prove I really want to be with you? I want to feel you all over and inside me. Lying close together in bed the last couple of days has made me long to touch you. I want to have sex with you. I've never really wanted to have sex with anyone before."
Susan felt her eyes flood and tried desperately to blink the tears away, but Sis saw it. She put her arm around Susan and pulled her close.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, you have been through enough, and I don't want to be another one to just take when you can't receive."
"I know. It's all happening so fast, but I know what I feel. I've never been in love before; I've never wanted to have sex with anybody. I've never felt like I feel for you. Please..."
Sis sealed her mouth with a kiss. It lingered on for minutes; a long, soothing kiss, making the tears disappear. Susan's cheeks were still blushing when they broke the kiss, but there was no sorrow in her eyes, only anticipation and tenderness. Sis almost shed a tear. Hand in hand, they went into the bedroom. They had seen each other naked every day since Sis moved in, but Susan suddenly felt timid about taking off her clothes. She thought about it and it almost made her laugh. It was so ridiculous. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
The zipper in her jeans acted up, and Sis stepped in and helped. Giggling, they fought the zipper for more than a minute, pulling and pushing Susan's jeans and the zipper. The fabric was pulled tightly into Susan's crotch, and maybe Sis' hands put a little more pressure here and there than strictly necessary. Susan stopped giggling, her breathing quickening and cheeks blushing.
Finally, the zipper opened. Sis knelt in front of Susan and pulled the jeans and panties down. When Sis stood again, the towel had come loose and fell to the floor as she reached around to take Susan's bra off. They stood naked as close as they could without touching each other, feeling the warmth of the other's body. It was tantalizing.
"Are you scared?"
"No. Maybe a little anxious."
"Promise me to tell me if I do something you don't like."
"I will."
Sis took Susan's hand and led her to the bed. They kissed, like they had done many times now. Susan felt comfortable with kissing, she felt comfortable caressing Sis' breast, and she felt ready for more; anxious but ready. Tentatively, her lips found Sis' nipple. The surge in Susan's stomach was definitely excitement, completely different from the way she felt with a man. It dissolved into a warm feeling, spreading throughout her body, especially to her crotch. Susan felt Sis caress her back, moving lower to the small of her back and to her cheeks. Another warm surge dissolved and spread. Susan stopped thinking about what it was she was doing, and her hands began caressing parts of Sis' body previously unexplored.
Sis let Susan lead the way, trying to guide her with subtle means like spreading her legs to make Susan do the same. By now, Susan acted on instinct. Her hand was drawn to Sis' pussy, and she was hardly aware until she felt the moist, puffy folds. It almost made Susan laugh, because it felt so safe to touch Sis. It was as if she was touching herself. The excitement distracted Susan, and she hardly had time to focus on her own feelings, even when Sis' fingers began gently caressing her pussy. It did feel good, and Susan wanted it, but it was mind-blowing to give pleasure, instead of just being the target of a man's satisfaction.
Excitement had replaced anxiety. Susan was more aroused than she had ever been before and completely absorbed in what her fingers, lips, and tongue were doing. Sis was getting close, and Susan was just about to fake an orgasm like she had done so many times before, but she stopped herself, realizing that there was no reason to fake anything; experiencing Sis having an orgasm was almost as good as having one herself, and she was sure they were going to continue for a long time.
When Sis came, she was unable to concentrate on Susan, but it only made witnessing Sis's orgasm better, because Susan could focus on that and only that. The small whimpers made it sound as if Sis was rendered helpless in a strong torrent, fighting to stay on the surface but losing the battle in the end. The whimpers turned into cries, and her hands clutched Susan's hand between her legs in the last seconds before she exploded. Shivering rigidly, she pressed Susan's hand against her clit.
Susan held Sis until the shivers stopped and her breathing returned to almost normal. Sis looked so healthy, smiling up at Susan with blushing cheeks and shining eyes. It nearly made Susan cry; Sis had to get well. Maybe Sis could see it in her eyes. Gently, she pushed Susan onto her back and began kissing her face, neck, then her breasts and nipples. Susan reached out to caress Sis, but her hand was pushed away.
"Your turn. Don't be scared."
Susan was too excited to be scared, even when Sis moved down over her tummy, kissing and licking her way down to the top of Susan's bush. She spread her legs in excited anticipation of what was to come. Sis teased her, kissing and licking all of her pussy, not just going for her clit, as the few men who had tried to please her that way had done. Susan felt a very strong surge was building in her stomach. She was pushed into the torrent, gasping and whimpering helplessly as Sis plunged her in deeper.
When Sis sucked Susan's clit into her mouth, she swept the bed away under her. In a strange kind of suspended state, Susan felt herself falling into a wonderful abyss. Warm waves washed over her, and she fought to stay conscious, enjoying the intensity. She heard herself cry out and felt how Sis was holding onto her with both arms wrapped around her waist. She wanted to drown, but despite the tireless effort Sis put into it, Susan finally surfaced, gasping for air.
"I should have admitted to myself that I'm... a lesbian a long time ago. But then we might never have met.Susan had regained her composure and was cuddling with Sis. It was so nice to cuddle after the marvelous experience.
"I'm sure we were destined for each other."
"It was so wonderful. I mean, I've been licked before, but men usually do it to get you ready for them. They probe with a finger to check if you're wet enough. Martin did his best, but I guess I was never able to let go and enjoy it."
"Martin is my brother, and I love him very much, but don't let it fool you. He can be as selfish as the next man, sometimes. He's no saint."
"But he was really good. The first time we were in bed together, it was after a party and I was a little drunk, he really did make me come and it felt so good. I thought it would be different with him. I liked the feeling of him inside me. I was just too tense, and I couldn't very well get drunk every night, could I?"
"When you're ready for it, there are ways to do everything a man can do, plus all the nice things women can do, too."
Susan put her hand on Sis' breast and kneaded it gently. "I'm ready for anything as long as it is with you. You know what the strangest and most wonderful thing is? I'm ready for it now."
"Ummm. Have I unleashed a little sex-monster?"
Susan giggled and blushed timidly. Sis tweaked her nipple, making Susan gasp. "You don't have to be ashamed of it. According to Martin, lesbians are allowed to enjoy sex."
"What does he mean? Are straight women not allowed to enjoy it?"
"Of course. It was just something he said one day, about how rare it was to meet a woman who enjoyed sex, or was willing to admit she did."
"I guess I confirm his statistics."
"He'll be green with envy because I can make you squeal in ecstasy."
"You really do tell each other everything!"
"Yes. Speaking of ecstasy: Do you want to squeal a little more?" Sis circled Susan's left nipple with the tip of her index finger.
"No. A lot. And I want to make you squeal, too."
Susan began circling Sis' nipple, moving close until their lips met in a kiss. They made each other squeal several times before they left the bed to eat and go shopping for essentials for the dinner Susan had planned. They returned to bed, and Susan learned a lot that day. Her favorite was when they lay side by side licking each other's pussies, especially when Sis tickled her nether hole. It was incredible how good it felt, compared to the pain it had brought her in her early experiences. All anxiety was gone; Susan was ready to let Sis take her anywhere and do anything. | 4 |
112,814 | Firefly: Through the Vents | 'Wheee,' River thought with a smile on her face as she slid down one of the many vent shafts running through Serenity. 'You have so many fun places in you, Serenity.'
"There is more fun up ahead," River heard in her head. "Of a different variety."
"Okay!" River said back as she eagerly began to crawl forward. She pretty much always listened to what the voices said, especially now that she had them more under control. 'Up ahead, up ahead we go. Up ahead is the engine room, maybe Kaylee wants to play a game of some sort.'
"Something like that," the voice said back with a grin.
River continued to crawl forward. She could hear sounds up ahead, maybe they could play hide and seek. She knew of this place in the bridge where she could get... 'Wait, voices don't grin.'
'Careful, slowly, silently, NINJA TIME!' River slowly slid her head over the opening of the vent so she could peek down inside. Kaylee and Simon were pressed up against each other, their lips locked.
'Wrestling... no, no, Kaylee just took Simon down, he wouldn't go down like that if they were wrestling,' River pondered as the couple she was watching slid to the ground, continuing to explore each other's mouths, their hands beginning to rove over each other's bodies.
'Kaylee and Simon kissing in the engine room KISSI... Kaylee and Simon kissing on the floor KIS... Kaylee and Simon kissing on a space ship traveling through space at full burn on their destination to Whitefall to pick up some supplies, of which will include illegal cargo, that will then be shipped back across the galaxy KI... hmmm none of those sound quite right.'
'They sure aren't wearing very many clothes... well, it is really hot.'
Below her, Simon and Kaylee continued their aggressive kissing. Kaylee had grabbed Simon's hands, pulling them to her body. Finally getting the hint, he began to allow them to explore her body, eventually settling on her large, firm breasts, squeezing each individually while lightly teasing her nipples. Not content to be left out of the exploring game, Kaylee reached her hands down, freeing Simon's cock and began to lightly jerk on it.
'What's she doing with that...' River wondered as she leaned forward. As her head passed out of the pipe, she was suddenly hit with a sudden vision, being overloaded with images.River grabbed her hair, pushing her into her pussy, much like Kaylee had done with Simon only moments before. She threw her legs over Kaylee's back, holding her even more in position as she raised her hand, beckoning her brother to come over.
Simon was standing there, watching the two girls go at it. The scene was getting his cock hard again, faster than he would have ever anticipated after coming twice. Kaylee seemed to be getting into it, her lower body beginning to rock back and forth as she drove her tongue in and out of River. The sight of her ass swaying back and forth and his sister's beckoning call were enough for him to leave his voyeuristic position and move over to join them. He positioned his cock at the entrance to her very hot pussy, teasingly holding it there for a second, before he reached up and grabbed Kaylee's shoulders, pulling her back as he thrust himself forward.
Kaylee let out an ear-piercing scream that would have alerted the whole ship if it wasn't for the loud noise of the engines muffling it. Her body arched in sudden pleasure as her cunt was suddenly filled and then was just as quickly pulled back down as River grabbed hold of her head, bringing her back to her pussy. Kaylee suddenly found herself a fuck toy between the two siblings as Simon tried to pull her back onto his cock and River tried to get her tongue further into her pussy.
River locked her legs together behind Kaylee's back as a nasty thought entered her mind: 'Well, Kaylee didn't have any problems hiding what was happening to Simon earlier...and turnabout is really, really hot.' Leaning forward so only Simon could hear her, she said, "You should fuck her ass."
"Really?" Simon said, surprised. "You sure that is what she wants?"
"Absolutely, you know how big a slut she is," River replied. "Just make sure you keep fingering her cunt, and she will love it."
Simon shrugged his shoulders, as River knew he would. He pulled his cock out of Kaylee's pussy, her moans of disappointment quickly stopped by his probing finger stroking her clit.
"Kaylee," River told her friend when she saw Simon moving his cock towards her ass. "Get ready because Simon is going to fuck your ass now."
River held Kaylee's head firm with her arms and legs as the other young woman made an attempt to protest as Simon began to slowly stretch her ass open by pushing his cock into her. River felt her body tremble in orgasm as she came, watching her brother assfuck Kaylee, her cunt spasming juices across Kaylee's face and mouth.
As River came, it gave Kaylee a moment to get free, but it had turned out River was right, and she was absolutely loving it. "You are a devious slut, River," Kaylee murmured to her friend as she crawled up her body, Simon slamming his cock into her ass, helping push her forward, stopping only briefly to lick her small breasts.
River didn't bother with a verbal reply as she kissed her friend deeply when she had finished her journey of trailing kisses up her torso. She wrapped her long legs around Kaylee so that they were touching Simon, allowing River and Kaylee to grind their pussies together.
Simon once again found himself on the brink. This was his first time fucking someone's ass, and Kaylee's was wonderfully tight. But what was driving him to cum so quickly was the sight of watching his sister and lover make out with each other, their lips locked together as their breasts, one pair large, another small, rubbed against each other. He was pounding his cock as hard into Kaylee as he could, just to drive the two girls closer together.
"Shit..." Simon muttered, using a rare swear word. "I am going to cum again."
He pulled his cock out, beginning to jerk it with his hand, as he moved away, taking out the balance for Kaylee. She, and River along with her, awkwardly tumbled out of the hammock. Not to be denied by the awkward situation, River took advantage of it. Putting one arm around Kaylee and bringing them up so they were on their knees, faces pushed together, looking up at Simon. "Simon... please cum all over us."
Simon obliged his sister's request, his cock one more time exploding, this time not in a mouth but instead shooting another load of cum across Kaylee's and River's faces, the two girls then turning to each other to lick the other clean of Simon's cum.
A few minutes later, River had climbed back into the hammock. Much more gently now, Simon and Kaylee were again rocking against each other on the floor.
'Kaylee and Simon, fucking in the engine room... yeah, that sounds a lot better,' River thought pleasantly as she drifted off to sleep. | 3 |
112,880 | Blind Date | 'Please, Dad!' My son pleaded.
'Do your own dirty work,' I replied for the fifth or sixth time.
'It's not my fault. It's Tess's. As usual,' He moaned.
Tess was his older sister, and as was usual with my eldest child, she was trying to organize his life for him, whether he appreciated it or not. This time, she had arranged a blind date for her single brother and had bullied him into agreeing to meet one of the sisters of a work colleague of Tess. I could hear her oft-repeated excuse for her meddling. 'He's twenty-five and needs a woman in his life.' Steve and I agreed with Tess in that a girlfriend would be a nice addition to his life, but where we disagreed was her role in the process.
'I forgot Stoke were at home tonight,' He continued moaning.
'Stoke' was Stoke City FC, his main passion. I was not too surprised he'd forgotten; when Tess 'persuaded' people, they soon became so bewildered that they could easily forget their own names, never mind anything else, plus our local football team rarely played on a Friday evening.
At first, he was just going to stand the poor girl up, but I wouldn't hear of that. I insisted he turn up, even if it was to explain that it was all a mistake. Steve was too much of a coward for that, and it also meant that he would have to miss the start of the match. Instead, my son was trying to talk me into meeting the girl and apologizing for him.
'You usually go down the Museum on a Friday anyway, and that's almost in "castle,"' He explained, as if I didn't know.
Our nearest town was 'castle,' short for Newcastle-Under-Lyme, not the famous Newcastle of the Geordies in the North East, but a small town at the north edge of the English Midlands. My weekly visit to the Museum wasn't the cultural event it sounds, as the Museum is the name of my local pub and lies just on the outskirts of Newcastle's town centre.
Eventually, I gave in and agreed to meet his blind date and offer his apologies. To be truthful, I did feel just a little sorry for him because even I knew how hard it was to stand up to my daughter at the best of times, never mind when she considered that she was 'helping' you.
'You owe me big style!' I cried after him as he ran out the house just in case I had a change of heart.
'Cheers, Dad! I won't forget!'
I laughed inwardly. Steve will have forgotten before he reached his car.
Ten minutes later, I rang his mobile phone. I could almost hear his sigh from here as he realized who it was.
'You haven't changed your mind, have you, Dad?' He asked dejectedly.
'No! But a name and place where you're supposed to meet might prove useful,' I said, laughing at his discomfort and our mutual forgetfulness.
Steve laughed too. 'Sorry, Dad! I suppose you're right, although the idea of you walking around town asking girls if they're waiting for a blind date has a certain appeal to it.'
'Don't push it,' I said more sternly than I felt, as his comment was typical of our family's sense of humor.
Steve then told me that the girl's name was Mandy, and he was supposed to be meeting her below the Clock Tower in the high street. She was tall with long blonde hair and would be wearing a red top. Not much, he admitted, but it was all he knew.
Ninety minutes later, I was standing below the said Clock Tower looking for a young woman that met Steve's description of Mandy. A few matched the tall blonde bit, but none stopped long enough to warrant approaching. The only woman who was hanging around was quite petite with long dark hair, although she did have a red top on. She was also obviously waiting for someone, so after ten minutes, I tentatively approached her.
'Mandy?' I asked.
She looked up at me; I was nearly a foot taller, and said, 'Steve?' The question in her voice echoed my own.
'No, but I am here on his behalf,' I explained.
'Ah! That explains why I didn't think it was you,' She said, her voice now strong and confident. 'I'm Claire.'
She saw the puzzlement in my face and went on with a small laugh. 'I'm here on behalf of Mandy.'
We talked for a few minutes, with me explaining who I was and truthfully why I was there and not my son. Claire laughingly told me that she was here for almost the same reason; Mandy didn't have anywhere else to go, but felt that she too had been bullied by HER sister into meeting Steve. Mandy was a shy girl who had a thing for another man, and although she had yet to do anything about it, she did not want to spoil her chances by being seen with someone else. She had been stood up in the past and did not like it at all, so she had no intention of doing it to someone else and had persuaded Claire to come in her place.
'Why you?' I asked.
'First, I'm unattached, and secondly, Mandy knows that I have a mind of my own and that I'm quite capable of telling a man to "piss off" if that's what's required,' she smiled before adding, 'and it usually is.'
I returned her smile, but I was old enough and, I believe, wise enough to know when to keep my mouth shut, besides I was not too old to remember what young men are like around attractive women, so the comment was probably well warranted.
'So what were you hoping for tonight?' I asked, more to make conversation than the desire to know.
'Hoping for? I suppose a nice meal with good conversation and an attractive man to look at,' She answered with a grin. 'What I expected was some lout, looking for a quick lay, for the least outlay.'
Once again, I found it difficult to argue with her expectations, but was compelled to try and defend my sex.
'I'm sure some men are like that, but I'm sure Stephen isn't.' As I spoke, I saw Claire's eyebrows rise, so I corrected myself, because I actually thought my son was just like that. 'OK! He's not that bad.'
I was enjoying talking to this young woman, so I decided to prove that some men were honorable, if not many young ones, and of course, prolong our conversation.
'I'll tell you what,' I began, 'how about two of your hopes instead of your expectations?'
'Sorry?' Claire responded, unclear as to my meaning.
'As an apology for my sex, I will supply you with your nice meal, and I hope I can provide reasonably stimulating conversation, but the handsome face to look at will have to depend on who's sitting at the next table.'
This time, she laughed properly, lighting up her eyes. Without hesitation, she said, 'you're on.'
We swiftly agreed that a Thai restaurant a few minutes' walk away was the ideal choice, so we set off. Playing the gentleman to the hilt, I offered my arm to Claire and was surprisingly pleased when she hooked her own arm through it with another laugh.
'I've never done this before,' she commented, indicating our linked arms, 'it makes me feel a real lady.'
I turned and smiled at her. 'Deservedly so! For the rest of the night, that's exactly how you will be treated.'
The smile I received was enough to make my evening, and I still had the meal to look forward to. Obviously, by now, I had also looked at Claire as a woman. As I said earlier, she was slimly built, about 5' 5" tall with long, almost black hair, held away from her face with a silver hair clip. Her lower legs were shapely, but her knee-length coat prevented better inspection. Her eyes were grey/green and quite large for her elfin face, which itself was beautiful and adorned with minimal makeup. I felt extremely proud to have this young lady on my arm when we entered the restaurant. My one complaint was that no one I knew witnessed the scene.
Inside, I continued the gallantry, pulling her chair back for her and standing whenever she did. The removal of her coat enabled me to further appreciate her, this time the shapely figure enhanced by a subtly patterned black blouse tucked into a simple black skirt. A slender red belt, color-coded to her lipstick, emphasized her equally slender waist. I also loved the way her hair flowed about her as she moved. The overall effect was pure femininity. I was amazed that she was unattached.
On the whole, it was a good meal made memorable by the company. I could easily see why good conversation was high on her wish list, for she reveled in it; agreeing and disagreeing with equal passion. She listened as well as she talked; a rare combination. A number of times, Claire's laughter and beauty would bring me an envious look from some other man in the restaurant. After ten years of the single life and almost six of complete celibacy, a topic that amused Claire no end, I remembered just how good a woman's company could be. OK! I wasn't kidding myself about any relationship, but I did bask in her reflected glory.
Our conversation touched briefly on Mandy and Stephen and what we both believed they were missing, but I knew, as I'm sure Claire did, that if either or both had been in our places, then it was unlikely to have worked out as well. One of the reasons Stephen had capitulated was because he was told Mandy was blonde with big tits. For all her beauty, I knew he wouldn't have looked twice at Claire - his loss.A few times during the evening, I almost reached for her hand, as if we were on a real date, but each time I managed to restrain myself. It was as close as I got to overstepping the mark.
I learned some, but by no means all, about my delightful young dining partner. She was twenty-six, almost thirty years my junior, single through choice and with no current boyfriend. Although she'd mentioned that when we'd first met, I found that, unjustly, I was pleased about the last snippet. She lived at home with her widowed mother and worked as a graphic designer.
When, eventually, we left our table, I insisted on paying, and it was only when I explained that I could put it through my company as an expense that she finally agreed to let me.
I was delighted when, reaching the street, Claire immediately hooked her arm through mine as we headed towards her car.
I desperately wanted to ask her out again, but was well aware of the huge age difference. I didn't want to make a fool of myself nor embarrass Claire, after all, she had given me no hint of being anything other than passing friends during the evening, so I decided to keep quiet rather than risk spoiling the evening. I would leave our relationship to my fantasies.
As we approached her car, it occurred to me that I was walking slightly differently; I was standing more upright and had my chest, if not actually puffed out with pride, then pretty close. Once more, I was relishing accompanying this attractive, and as I had by then discovered, intelligent, young woman. We talked for a long time at her car, as if neither of us wanted to end the unexpected delight of the meeting.
Finally, after thanking me yet again for paying for the meal, Claire reached up and pecked my cheek before getting into her car. She started the engine of her Mazda MX5, a typically young woman's car, opened the window, and said, "Next time the meal's on me!"
She was watching my eyes closely as her words sank in, or to be more precise, two of the words sank in, "Next time." When it did, she simply smiled and drove off, leaving me standing there with my jaw dropped and mouth wide open.
The walk back home was a daze; dare I even hope for something more than an occasional meal with Claire. As usual, I dissected my thoughts and analyzed them individually. The first thing I worked out was that my main attraction to Claire was NOT sexual. I had been without for long enough to know that. I knew that I had a physical attraction, but no more than I'd had for many other women over the last few years, and I'd had little inclination to pursue them. For a reason all my self-probing couldn't fathom, I just wanted to be with her, where was irrelevant. As per usual in my life's dealings with the fairer sex, I had absolutely no idea what Claire thought or wanted. I was confident enough in her to believe that she wanted to see me again, but the when and especially the why, totally escaped me.
A sleepless night left me none the wiser, so I decided to play it cool, or at least attempt to. Of course, I failed miserably. Every time the phone went, I dropped whatever I was doing and rushed to it. Logic told me that Claire didn't know my number, but it didn't stop me hoping. Typically, I had calls from every Tom, Dick, and Harry that morning. The only one of those numerous callers worth listening to was my daughter phoning to check on Steve and Mandy's evening out. Initially, she was mad at her brother for chickening out, but became at first, amused, and finally hysterical with laughter when I explained Mandy's substitution and the following events. I must admit to not mentioning just how much I'd enjoyed myself. My daughter gave me enough stick as it was without me providing more ammunition. An hour later, I related the story once more when my son eventually managed to rise, with a similar mocking response. Stephen reckoned I owed him for 'fixing me up,' as he called it. We laughingly agreed to disagree on that.
The rest of the day passed without note, and come the evening, I began to think that Claire had, in the light of a new day, had second thoughts. Sunday passed the same, and by now, I was sure that I would not hear from Claire. I was sad about it, but not upset, as I could not blame the young woman for not following up a date that wasn't, with a man twice her own age. I awoke on Monday morning with my mind half-filled with the cherished memory of Friday, believing that was all I would have of Claire.
At work, as at home, I have a reputation for taking the proverbial; it is just my sense of humor, I suppose, so that day, not being prepared to give my colleagues an easy chance to rag me, I kept quiet about Friday and, when asked about the weekend, I claimed it had been as dull as ever, which was true if you did not count Friday as the weekend.
I got home, late as usual, to find my daughter and son sitting waiting for me. For my son, this was normal, he lived with me after all, but my daughter, I rarely saw her during the working week. Before I had even had time to remove my coat, Tess showed why she was there.
'What did you actually do, Dad?' She asked.
'Do?' I asked back, puzzled by her appearance and the question.
'Yes! Do?' She repeated impatiently. 'On Friday!' She explained, seeing that I still had no idea what she meant.
It took a few moments to realize that she was talking about Friday evening and Claire. The first thing that went through my mind, perhaps helped by my daughter's insistent question, was, 'had Claire complained that I had done something to her?' Before I could think more about that, I automatically defended myself.
'Do! I did nothing. I didn't even touch her,' I exclaimed a little too loudly.
Tess looked exasperated, and Steve was laughing, but he managed to explain. Unlike his sister, and probably because he was male, he didn't assume that I instinctively knew what was in his mind.
'Don't worry, Dad. Nobody is saying you did,' he was still laughing and did so even more when he looked at Tess and added, 'and I don't think she would have complained if you had.'
Tess too, seemed to find this amusing.
'So what's this all about?' I demanded. After working all day, I was not really in the mood for riddles.
Tess calmed down a little and said, still smiling, 'Apparently Claire has not shut up about you all weekend. According to Jen, Claire reckons you're the best thing since sliced bread.'
'Jen! And who is Jen?' I asked.
'Jen is Mandy's sister, the one I work with, you know, the one who helped set up Friday night.' Tess then had a little laugh. 'Although, of course! That was supposed to be between Steve and Mandy, not you and Claire. Anyway! Jen reckons that Claire reckons that you're the nicest man she's ever met.' She looked at me, then, with a grin, continued, 'Which of course just means she doesn't really know you yet. That, or she's only known complete bastards.'
'Cheers!' I said, but for the first time since arriving home, I was actually smiling.
'Anyway, Dad,' Stephen chimed in, 'just what did you do to have such an impact on her?'
'Yes, Dad! What did you do?' asked Tess too.
'Nothing special! We just went for a meal and talked.'
'It must have been more than that,' complained Tess.
'Not really; when we first met, she complained about men being after only one thing,' I looked at Stephen, and he just grinned inanely, 'so, I did make an effort to treat her like a lady.'
'Whatever it was really worked,' Tess said. 'When are you seeing her again?'
'I don't know,' I answered honestly.
'You ARE seeing her again?' My daughter half asked, half demanded.
'I don't know,' I repeated.
'Do you want to?' Tess asked, serious for a change.
Before I could reply, my son said with another grin, 'Of course he does, Sis, you should have seen his face Saturday, it was like the cat that got the cream.'
I thought for a moment, not whether I wanted to see Claire again, I already knew that, but whether I wanted my kids to know. I knew their amusement was not spiteful, so I decided on the truth.
'Yes, I would like to see her again. However, she is a bit young for me or I'm too old for her, whichever way you look at it.'
'So are you going to ring her?' Tess demanded to know.
'Difficult, as I don't have her number,' I answered sheepishly.
My two children looked up at the ceiling, then at each other before simultaneously saying, 'Parents!'
Tess immediately took her phone out and dialed a number from her phone's memory.
'Hi Jen!' She began, 'Have you got Claire's number?' She waited a few moments, then said, 'OK! Talk to you in a few minutes.'
I looked hard at Tess and asked, 'Are you sure you don't mind? Claire is younger than you, you know.'
'Cradle snatcher!' was her reply.
A few seconds later, the tune to 'The Addams Family' filled the air, signifying that her mobile was ringing.
Tess grabbed a pen from the shelf and started scribbling on an old envelope. 'Thanks Jen! I'll ring you back when I get home.'
'Give me your mobile!' my bossy child ordered.
I complied, expecting her to enter what I assumed to be Claire's number into my phone's memory. This she did, then immediately rang the number, listened until a reply was heard, then handed the phone back to me. As soon as I'd stuttered a grunt that was close to 'Hello!' Tess grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
'Hello! Who is this?' Claire's voice asked confidently.
'It's David!' I replied, my spirits rising at the sound of her voice.
'Oh hi! I'm glad you called,' Claire said; her words lifting my spirit yet higher, then adding with a smile in her voice, 'you took your time though! I was beginning to think you didn't want to.'I then had to explain my doubts and worries, all of which were laughed away by Claire. Finally, she, somehow, got me to admit just how much I did want to see her again. I think she was rather surprised, as she went very quiet. So quiet in fact I thought I'd blown my chance of seeing her again.
When she did speak, she made no mention of it. 'So what made you change your mind and ring me then?' is what she did say.
I explained my homecoming reception and Tess's actions in getting her number.
'Oh damn!' I heard Claire say, 'of course you didn't ring; I forgot you didn't have my number. It felt as if we'd known each other so long I never thought about it.'
'Same here,' I admitted.
We chatted for another half an hour about absolutely nothing, when during one of my longer listening moments, Tess and Stephen came back in.
Seeing I was still on the phone they both grinned and Tess mouthed the question, 'when are you seeing her again?'
Sensing that my attention had left her briefly, Claire asked, intuitively, 'are your children back?'
I told her they were and after a few more words we agreed to meet on Wednesday evening. When I eventually hung up - acting all teenage by waiting for Claire to hang up first - I felt better than I had in years.
Tess, once she knew I was to see Claire again, left with a smug grin. Steve just commented, 'Good on yer, Dad!' and went up to his room. I sat in my favourite chair, only to realize I still had my coat on. I swiftly removed it, hung it up and returned to my comfy chair to contemplate the last half hour or so. Apart from the embarrassment of having my children involve themselves in my private life, everything was good. In fact, I had initially thought 'my sex life' before correcting my own thoughts.
For the first time I began to seriously contemplate making love to Claire. I had already fantasized about her but now I was wondering if there was now a chance that something could actually happen. I had now passed beyond fantasy into hope. True, I recognized all the reasons not to, but once in my mind that hope would not leave. Of course the hope also extended beyond mere sex to a proper relationship and I was honest enough with myself to know that, for all the age gap, is what I wanted most, although the erection I was sporting proved physical desire was pretty high too. My arousal was strong enough to need relief, which was provided during a long hot shower.
Over the inordinately long next forty-eight hours, I felt like a schoolboy with his first crush, sleeping only in fits and starts and, most unusually for me, my appetite disappeared. Typically, I tried to predict all the possible outcomes, not only for Wednesday itself, but for the short-term future as well (even in my most optimistic scenarios I couldn't see a long-term future for us). It took little effort to work out my behaviour for my 'date'; it would be as before, acting the perfect gentleman. Deciding what I was going to wear proved more difficult until I asked my daughter. Her reply was so typically logical.
'It doesn't matter Dad. You didn't dress up on Friday, besides if she were into 'appearance' in her men then she wouldn't be seeing you. Would she?'
So early Wednesday evening, casually dressed, I walked slowly, as I was twenty minutes early, and nervously to the pub where we were to meet. The gentleman part of me had misgivings about meeting her inside a pub, but the twenty-first century woman overrode my objections. I ordered a glass of white wine, not wanting my breath smelling of beer, which was my usual tipple when in a pub; pubs not being noted for the quality of their wines. I sat down facing the door, feeling foolish for being so excited, and waited. To my delight Claire arrived early too, only a couple of minutes but early, wearing the same coat as before, but higher heels making her lovely legs look even better.
Swiftly I rose and went to greet her. Her genuine smile on seeing me warmed my heart and helped alleviate most of the butterflies that had been tormenting my stomach. The brief kiss on my lips sent them all back again, this time accompanied by their whole families.
'Hi!' she said in the sweet voice I had rapidly come to love.
'Hi beautiful!' I replied, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice, I'd half expected to splutter.
To my further surprise Claire blushed at the compliment.
'I suppose that's one advantage of going out with an old man,' she replied.
'Ah! You mean the compliment,' I grinned.
'No! I mean the poor eyesight,' she laughed.
We continued in the same vein for the rest of the evening, laughing and joking as if we'd known each other for years and there was no generation gap separating us. We ate at an Italian restaurant, once more walking to it with linked arms, where Claire insisted on paying. Again her attire was simple and elegant, this time a short-sleeved black dress with a neckline that just showed the merest hint of cleavage, although with her breasts matching the rest of her petite frame Claire was never going to display much in the way of cleavage. It suited me, as, unlike my son, I preferred smaller breasts.
Throughout the evening I behaved impeccably, although as we were waiting for coffee I reached across the table to hold Claire's dainty hand. She smiled at my touch and placed her other hand on mine to show me that she approved. It was the first romantic touch that we had shared and I felt my stomach churn as her hand covered mine.
The walk to her car was different from Friday's. We had already made plans to see each other again, so this time I didn't need to strut, didn't care if anyone saw us or not, I knew that this fabulous woman was with me, and that I'd be seeing her again, knowledge that was more than enough.
At her car I held the door open for her to get in but to my amazement she just pushed it shut and turned to look at me.
'This model behaviour thing can go too far you know!' she stated. 'Do you want to kiss me?' She demanded.
Before I could answer, Claire looked at me and in a softer voice answered for me. 'Of course you do. You're just trying to prove that some men can keep their hands to themselves. The problem is that when we have a good man like that, we women don't want him to. Oh! Just kiss me.'
I was more than willing to oblige so I leaned back against her car with my legs spread wide and pulled her to me. This way the height difference was marginal and our lips met for the second time. The first kiss of greeting was sweet enough, but now we kissed with a passion that had been simmering for most of the evening. I'd forgotten just how good a kiss can be, not just the taste of her mouth and touch of her tongue against mine, but the physical contact as her body pushed against mine, the smell of her hair; all of this overpowered my senses and left behind just an immense pleasure.
When we finally broke off the kiss, we looked closely at each other; both of us a little taken aback by just how much went into that kiss.
'I think I'd better go,' Claire said to my great disappointment. She then cleared my momentary dismay by adding with a grin, 'whilst I still can. It's a good job I'm driving - my legs have gone all wobbly,' she finished with a laugh.
'I know what you mean,' I said meaningfully. 'Thanks for a wonderful evening and you were right as you could probably tell.'
'Right about what?' she asked.
'About me wanting to kiss you! I've been wanting to do that since about an hour after meeting you.'
'It took a whole hour!' she said with simulated disgust. 'I must be losing my touch.'
Knowing that she was about to leave and that I wanted to prolong the moment, I took hold of both her hands and gently pulled her to me. With my hands on her slim waist I leaned down to meet her lips. This kiss was as different again as the first, more gentle and loving, softer, our tongues teasing rather than fighting each other, but it was no less pleasurable.
Claire eventually pushed herself away. 'It's a good job my Mum's at home or I'd have dragged you back by now,' she laughed.
'You wouldn't have needed to drag me,' I responded.
'True! But I do have to get back. Some of us have to get up early in the morning,' Claire had already mentioned an early morning train she had to catch.
'Okay! I'll let you go.'
It was actually another twenty minutes and two further kisses before Claire finally drove off. I walked home, although I'd swear I was floating rather than walking.
Apart from a few hours of sleep, I do not a single hour passed without some sort of contact with each other, be it phone, email or text.
I finished work early on Friday, so decided I'd have a long soak in the bath before meeting Claire. I shower to keep clean, but I adore the relaxing sensation of a really hot bath. As usual there was little on my mind other than the young woman I was meeting later that evening. It was during that bath that I asked myself if I was already in love with her, was it infatuation or just sheer lust. I swiftly excluded the latter, but the remaining choice was harder. I don't recall ever being infatuated before so I wasn't too clear exactly how infatuation affected people and though I was pretty sure that I was NOT in love I was equally certain that it wouldn't take much to take that fateful step. I knew I should tread carefully, I'd been very badly hurt when my marriage broke up, in fact I wasn't sure that I was fully over that pain, so did I want to risk it again, especially, given the age difference that the risk was so much higher.
I had suggested that, being a Friday, we go to a club or music pub, of which Newcastle seems full of these days, but Claire declared that she wasn't really partial to the modern music that blares out in these places.She had suggested a Chinese restaurant about a mile outside of town. It was only a mile or so away and therefore easily within walking distance for me, had a good reputation, and its own car park, so I concurred.
Once more, I arrived early for our date, but Claire had beaten me to it. She was waiting in her car and almost ran to me as I crossed the car park. Although it took only a few seconds to reach me, I still had plenty of time to take in her beauty. She was wearing a knee-length black coat, and a skirt or dress underneath, as her fabulous legs were on show. My heart quickened in happiness that this lovely young woman was so happy to see me. We kissed as soon as she reached me, but both of us held back a little, knowing that the evening was only just starting.
I remember the food as being excellent that evening, but how much of that was down to my companion rather than the actual food, I'm not sure. The pleasure started as we sat down, with Claire removing her coat, revealing a blood-red blouse and a simple, but short black skirt. Never mind the meal, I wanted to eat my partner. We held hands for most of the evening, apart from when we were making fools of ourselves with chopsticks. We both drank soft drinks, Claire because she was driving; me because I didn't want my memories of her clouded by alcohol.
At the end of the meal, as we were waiting for the bill, I asked her, "Where do we go from here?"
I knew the question was ambiguous; I had intended it to be. What I really wanted to know is where, if anywhere, our relationship was heading. If that proved embarrassing for Claire, she could answer with a place.
She did neither. Instead, she reached into her handbag and removed a toothbrush and held it up in front of me. She had a smile, the warmth of which would have saved the Titanic. I felt a similar warmth flood through me, and when it reached my heart, I knew, without doubt, that I loved this fabulous young woman, not because she was willing to sleep with me, but of the thoughtful way she had let me know. I leaned across the table and kissed her with all the love and tenderness I was feeling. It was a lengthy kiss, and when we pulled apart, I became aware of other people's stares. The kiss was meant as a big thank you, but it also had the advantage of giving my ageing brain a chance to think before I was required to talk. Instinctively, I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but caution prevailed, as I did not want to scare her off as a declaration of love may have done.
I swiftly paid the bill and literally swept Claire to her car. Once in the car, we kissed once more, this one took our budding relationship onto the next level. It was soft, yet passionate, the type of kiss that is as much emotional as physical; a kiss that can only occur between two people who care deeply for each other. It told me more about Claire's feelings for me than the toothbrush and its implications ever could. For those brief moments, nothing else mattered beyond the woman in my arms and her soft lips pressed against mine.
As I reluctantly pulled away, the words "I Love You!" formed in my mind, but before I could say anything, Claire, as if telepathic, put a finger against my lips and whispered.
"Not now, David! Just tell me where you live, and let's go to bed."
We drove to my home in silence, but in as much contact as the car and safety would allow. As we approached my front door, I momentarily wondered if Stephen was still at home, but instantly decided I didn't care. If he was, then he didn't make it known as we went straight to my bedroom. Claire chucked the overnight bag she'd retrieved from her car onto the floor and turned to me and opened her arms. Swiftly, I pulled her to me for a kiss and embrace. As desperate as I was to make love to her, I was more intent on doing things right. I wanted to please my young, soon-to-be, lover.
Once we were in the bedroom and knew what would be happening, the urgency left us, well, me anyway, I don't think that Claire felt it as much.
We kissed, gently, as if we'd been lovers for years, our tongues greeting each other like old friends. Because of the height difference, I pushed Claire to the bed and attempted to lower her softly onto it. Unfortunately, I failed, and we both fell onto it, with me landing heavily on top of my petite partner. We both burst out laughing. I was lying on top of her, my face inches above hers, watching her eyes as the mirth expressed itself. I stopped laughing, suddenly filled with a warmth so strong. I recognized earlier that I loved her, but even I was taken aback at the power of love I was now feeling as I looked down on the young woman beneath me.
It was a special moment in our relationship, as Claire, seeing my look, stopped laughing but retained a gorgeous smile, looked back at me, sensing, I think, my thoughts.
Once more, I felt the urge to tell her that I loved her, but as daft as it may seem, also felt that this wasn't the right time. I didn't want her to think I was saying it just because we were about to make love. Instead, I kissed her sparkling eyes, then her nose, before taking each lip, in turn, into my mouth, kissing and running my tongue over them.
My lips then began teasing her neck and throat, sometimes straying to nibble an earlobe. I undid the top button of her red silk blouse and kissed the flesh that that exposed. The next button followed, and the next, until I was kissing the top of her right breast, exposed by her half-cup bra. My fingers continued to undo the blouse as my mouth worked her small breasts, sucking and biting each nipple through her sexy red bra, selected, I hoped, just for this moment. Her hands released my head to shake off the now superfluous blouse and reached behind to unclip the bra. My mouth left her just long enough for the bra to be snatched away. I wanted to gaze at the perfect mounds that I'd dreamed about, now exposed to me, but Claire had other ideas, pulling my mouth back to her protruding nipple. The pleasure of vision rapidly replaced by that of touch.
Whilst my mouth was occupied with her breasts, my hand moved to her leg, just above her knee and below her skirt. I could feel the firmness of her legs but also the hated feel of tights. I rubbed and squeezed, moving my hand to the inside of her thigh, and then moving up under her skirt. My heart was pounding in anticipation when it suddenly beat even faster. My hand had encountered bare skin; she was wearing stockings, not tights. Even with the thrill of feeling her naked thighs, I still thought about the preparation that Claire had put in to make this night special. I loved her the more for it. I lifted my head from her breast to look at her, my eyes and smile showing my appreciation.
Her eyes shone with happiness, and for a few moments, nothing else mattered other than the loving kiss I had to give her. The urgency within our bodies permitted that kiss only a few brief seconds before demanding that I return my attention to where I left it; my lips returning to her nipple and my fingers tracing a winding but definite path up her thigh. She opened her legs wider, allowing me to touch the silk smoothness of her panties. That first touch was electrifying. Claire literally jumped off the bed, even though she must have been ready for it. For me, it was the amazing amount of heat emanating through the sheer garment.
As I pressed a finger harder against the silken material, I could feel the dampness of her desire. If I was in any doubt of that need, Claire rid it by emitting a long and loud moan of pleasure and pushing my head firmer against the nipple I was sucking.
I continued to stimulate her pussy through her panties for a couple of minutes before the desire to explore her properly forced my hand up the few inches it required to find the flesh above those brief panties. My fingers then went down again, this time inside the offending material, relishing the relative coarseness of her pubic hair. Unintentionally, my finger rubbed against her clit, which was already engorged. Once more, Claire jumped and let out an even louder moan.
Swiftly, I moved my finger away, that pleasure was for later. I moved it to the heat of her sex. Her pussy lips were wet enough to allow my fingers an easy path to her core. Very slowly, I inserted my middle finger, appreciating the firm grip her intimate muscles had but adoring the effect that I was having on my lover.
As my finger reached as far as it could travel, I felt a totally unfair feeling of jealousy. Claire, understandably, was not a virgin; she had not intimated it, but I could not help that fleeting moment of, not anger or true sadness, just a disappointment I suppose, that I would not be the first for her. The feeling lasted no more than a couple of seconds, but I did not like myself for it.
I started to move my head down her sexy young body, but suddenly Claire stopped me. She sat up, pushed me onto the bed, and said.
"Not yet, darling! It's your turn first."
She then began to undo and then remove my shirt as my mind was doing somersaults at her endearment.
Once my shirt was off, Claire began on my trousers, swiftly removing them, my boxers, shoes, and socks in one clean movement.
Needless to say, but I was rampant, which Claire now turned her attention to. With her delicate hands, she stroked my average-sized manhood to its full splendor, as it was my turn to throw back my head and moan my pleasure.
There was a few seconds of cool air on my cock as her hands momentarily left it. As I registered this, I looked up to see Claire removing her panties; she'd had the foresight to wear them over the garter belt. I smiled as I took in her beautiful body, naked from the waist up. She saw me watching and grinned before positioning herself above my head.Slowly, she lowered her hips, offering my mouth her pussy, which I gratefully received.
My tongue dived straight into her, following the course my finger had taken moments earlier. My mind was suddenly split in two as first I felt her hand grip my rock-hard cock, followed almost immediately by the wet warmth of her mouth. I both love and hate 'soixante neuf'; I love the closeness, the giving and receiving all in one; I hate my inability to concentrate on both simultaneously.
With great effort, I decided to focus on giving Claire her pleasure. I was honest enough to know that I'd be blowing my load within a few seconds otherwise. Gripping her skirt-clad hips, I pulled her further down onto my mouth, sucking her clit between my lips and running my tongue rapidly across it. Her body shook with pleasure and, I think, accidentally she dropped her head, engulfing my whole cock in her mouth and throat.
For me, this was a first, and my earlier decision was put on hold as I savored the signals my cock was sending to my already over-stimulated brain. Recognizing that she had the upper hand, Claire's mouth and tongue doubled their efforts, forcing my hips to thrust faster and harder to match them.
Despite my wish to please Claire, it was only a few moments before I was spurting into the depths of her throat. How she didn't choke, I have no idea, but truthfully, for those few seconds, I didn't care as my body ruled my brain.
I was immediately drained, but knew I had to give Claire the same sort of orgasm that she'd just given me. It took a while before my body was recovered enough to put in my full effort, but in the meantime, I just licked her pussy, tasting her excitement. After that, and without my own stimulation to distract me, I soon had Claire on the verge as I concentrated on her clit, sucking, gently biting, and pressing my tongue hard against it. As I felt my lover's approaching climax, I slid two fingers deep into her and began to bend and straighten them. It was all it took. I could feel her legs spasm as they gripped my head. Claire's orgasm lasted longer than any other I could recall, or it might have just seemed like that trapped between her delicious thighs. The other thing about that moment that will remain embedded in my mind is the overpowering aroma of her excited body.
When she eventually came down, she released my head and turned around to lie on top of me. We kissed, the salty taste reminding me of my own earlier pleasure.
'Not bad for an old man!' Claire said, trying to maintain a straight face.
I gently slapped her bum, which was still covered with her skirt.
'That the best you can do,' Claire laughed.
This time, I slowly lifted her skirt above her waist, stroking and caressing her taut cheeks as I did so. Then, halfway through a caress, I slapped her naked buttock quite hard. I kept my hand cupped so it would sound much worse than it was.
'Pig!' She shouted and began to thump my chest, aping the damsels in distress in all the old films, which might have worked had she not been laughing so loud.
My hands hadn't left her firm arse, and as I kneaded and squeezed, my cock began to rise again.
'Pervert as well!' Claire managed to say between her bouts of mirth.
I pulled her mouth back to mine, needing my fix of her lips.
'Of course I'm perverted,' I said when we broke the kiss. 'Who else, other than a pervert, and an old one at that, could love a minx like you?'
'So you finally said it,' Claire said, suddenly serious.
As soon as I'd said it, I knew that I shouldn't have, but it just seemed so natural. 'I'm sorry,' I began.
Claire's eyes showed a gentleness I hadn't seen before. 'What are you sorry for? For loving me or for telling me?' my lover asked.
The question took me by surprise. 'For telling you, of course,' I managed to reply.
'But I already knew. I've known for a while!' Then she grinned, 'probably before you did!'
I was lost. 'Then why...' I said, and then stopped, not knowing what question I wanted answered.
She kissed me quickly on the lips before she answered the question I'd been unable to ask. 'Because, I love you too! Stupid! You don't think I'd be lying here in bed with some old bugger if I didn't love him?'
My sense of humor was coming back. My eyes must have sparkled a bit because, before I could say anything, Claire said sternly, 'Don't you dare answer that!' I didn't bother to ask her how she knew what I was about to say; I'd already noticed it was a skill she possessed in abundance.
'Now are you going to make love to me before I grow as old as you.'
Then, something that had never happened before or since, but I was instantly erect, no gradual build-up but immediate hard-on.
Claire, lying on top of me, was aware, even a little impressed. 'At least someone's awake around here,' she grinned.
She then moved until my cock was positioned right and simply slid down my body, allowing me to enter the woman I loved for the very first time. The heat that surrounded my cock and the way she used her virginal muscles removed all other thoughts from my head. Slowly at first, we made love, joined by our sexual organs and our mouths, until Claire, needing more, sat up on my thighs. At no time did she allow contact to be broken.
Our lovemaking then became more intense as Claire rode me as if life itself depended on it, which, for that moment in time, ours did.
Despite my earlier release, it wasn't long before I was succumbing to her demanding body again and once more ejaculating deep into the woman I loved. Claire did not reach orgasm that first time, but I hopefully made up for that during the long night.
Halfway through the night, in a moment between sleep and sharing each other, I asked Claire how she knew that I loved her. She smiled and said it was obvious to anyone who looked at me - a point later confirmed by both my children.
I asked her to marry me, which unsurprisingly she declined, saying that we should enjoy each other and see what happened.
A year to the day, I proposed again, and this time Claire agreed to become my wife.
One other thing! A few months later, Stephen and Mandy met at a party given by Claire and myself. They clicked immediately, initially unaware of their missed blind date, and have been together ever since. | 4 |
113,225 | Tall Tale | 'I'll never find someone to love,' Rachel thought in frustrated anger as she stabbed at the doorbell. Moments crawled by before Javier answered. He didn't seem surprised to see her.
"Date end early?" he asked with a half-smile as she stormed past him into his small apartment. It was almost comic to see them together. She was six-four, and he was a full foot shorter. From a distance, he could have passed as her son.
"Damn and double-damn," she said with venom as she plunked herself down at the table separating the kitchen from the living area. "All I want is a decent relationship. Is that too much to ask?"
It was a rhetorical question. He didn't answer. Instead, he said, "Coffee?"
She shook her head sharply. Glorious blond hair swished in an angry swirl. But the anger wasn't directed at him. Javier had become her confidant – her best friend, actually. She loved spending time with him when their busy schedules would allow. He was a great listener and a really deep thinker. "Goddammit," she exploded as he took the seat across from her, "do you know what that fuck-wad said to me?"
Javier half-smiled again, indicating with a slight raising of his eyebrows that he didn't. He knew she was extremely pissed. Normally, she never used profanity.
"He said he liked me as a friend." Her eyes flamed and then almost started tearing at the memory. "Last month he said we had a future together, and tonight he likes me as a friend. Then the jerk starts asking me about Betsy Grant."
Another eyebrow lift.
"One of the cheerleaders. Betsy's shorter than you for Christ's sake." Rachel snorted in disgust and continued, "I finally find a tall guy who seems interesting, and he turns out to be a snake. Not only that, but he's a wimp-snake. You should have seen the spineless rat's expression while he was telling me all this...." And she was off, talking with animation, waving her hands, raising her voice.
Javier listened with quiet intensity. Never interrupting. He offered only an occasional look of empathy or confusion.
Rachel was tall, indeed. But more than that, she was exceptionally self-assured – almost domineering. What a combination. And it had really crimped her social life because, despite her strong personality, she was entirely feminine. This was obvious in just about everything she did. In her style of clothing, her walk, the fact that she'd kept her hair long even during her volleyball days. She was beautiful, she was graceful, but she was no pushover. Where was she going to find a boyfriend? There simply weren't that many tall men around, even on a campus as large as theirs. And she didn't just want a tall guy. She wanted a strong personality. A partner. She wanted a man who would make her really feel like a woman.
Rachel slapped her palm down on the table to emphasize a point. Javier didn't flinch. As he listened, he admired both her strength and her beauty. They had met the year before during their first days in the graduate program. They'd shared a class, traded lecture notes, studied together. They had become close friends. He was just as strong and self-assured as she but in a quieter, less flamboyant way. She continued to talk; he listened and continued to say nothing.
An hour later, Rachel finally ran out of steam. Javier nodded thoughtfully and let the silence build. Then something happened that had never happened before. She asked for his advice. Oh, she'd asked for and he'd given her lots of general advice about textbooks, travel, taxes. But she'd never before asked for his opinion about her personal life.
"What should I do, Javier? Join a dating service? Take out an ad in the personals? What? I can't go on like this forever. I need someone. How am I going to find him?" She sounded almost drained.
A long silence followed. Javier stared at the table. Rachel waited. He wasn't like the other men who had passed through her life – all mouth and no intellect. She knew he'd really paid attention and was seriously considering his reply. He never offered a suggestion unless asked and never gave one lightly. But when he did give advice, it always seemed to work. And he was honest enough to tell her when he didn't know. He never faked an answer. So given the nature of her problem, she didn't really expect him to have a solution.
Rachel sat quietly, lost in moody thoughts. She stared through a black window into the darkness. Time passed. Then she glanced over and saw that Javier had been studying her. She arched her own delicate eyebrows. 'Well,' she seemed to ask.
"Do you trust me?" he finally offered.
"Of course," she replied almost without thinking.
Javier studied her face as if looking for something he couldn't find. He repeated the question with emphasis, "Do you TRUST me?" His voice was quiet but compelling.
'What was this?' Rachel wondered. But she considered the question carefully and came up with the same answer. "Yes, I do, Javier. I trust you completely."
He nodded to himself, looked away, and remained in silent thought for a few more moments.
"OK," he said. "I'll be right back." Then he stood and walked away, leaving her bewildered. She heard his bedroom door open and the sound of rummaging.
He was back a couple of minutes later, holding what looked like the sash from his bathrobe.
"Stand up," he said in a voice of quiet command.
Rachel stood. She looked at him questioningly.
He studied her for a long minute. She truly was magnificent. Tall, beautiful, in wonderful physical shape. She had worn a lacy pink blouse on her date, with a matching blue jacket and skirt. She also had on high heels. He smiled. Six-four and wearing heels. He knew they made her feel more feminine.
"Turn around," he said.
"What do you have in mind?" she asked.
He smiled. "You said you trusted me.... So trust me."
She tried to read his face but couldn't. She glanced down at the sash. Then, taking a deep breath and biting a nervous lip, she turned. He came up behind her, removed her jacket, and hung it on the back of the chair where she'd been sitting. Reaching over, he took one of her hands, gently pulling it behind her, and began tying the sash around her wrist.
For a moment, a newspaper headline flashed through her head: "CO-ED FOUND STRANGLED." 'What would her mother say?' But she really did trust him. She swallowed as he took her other hand, pulled it back, and began binding her wrists together.
When he was finished, he gently turned her around to face him. He was smiling. She was about to say something, but he shushed her. "Don't talk, or I'll gag you." Something in his voice told her he was serious. She tested the binding and knew she wasn't getting loose until he let her go.
Javier reached up and gently stroked the side of Rachel's face. She closed her eyes and let herself drink in the sensation. She felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember. She kept her eyes closed, swaying uncertainly in her heels, as reaching up with the other hand, he began undoing the buttons of her blouse.
Rachel trembled.
One by one, he nimbly unfastened each button. She felt his touch through the cloth of her blouse or brushing her bare skin with the back of his fingers. She found it surprisingly erotic.
Her trembling increased, but she held her ground.
Carefully pulling her blouse out from where it tucked into her skirt, he undid the last button. Then, reaching under the silky cloth, he slowly and sensually began to rub her sides. He tweaked a nipple through her bra. She quietly gasped. He was rewarded by seeing the little bud erupt beneath the fabric. He rubbed some more and then tweaked the other nipple. Rachel felt a definite response between her thighs. She'd been with several boys and men in her life, but nothing before had ever made her feel like this.
Javier reached in and around, and with a deft flick of his fingers, unlatched her bra. Rachel had very nice breasts. Not huge but large enough and extremely well-formed. So when the bra was unhooked, it rode up a bit, exposing the bottom of each globe. He ran his finger along the sensitive skin on the underside. A quiet moan escaped her lips. He peeled the bra up and palmed first one and then the other fleshy orb. Leaning forward, he sucked a nipple into his mouth and toyed with it as he pinched the other with tender force.
Rachel sucked in her breath and opened her eyes. She hadn't ever thought of Javier romantically. She looked at him as if for the first time. He might not be the most handsome man in the world, but he was well-built for his size. And he wasn't bad to look at.Rachel was having a little trouble keeping her balance in the heels because of the storm of hormones being unleashed by Javier's tongue and fingers. He stopped and looked directly into her eyes. She could never read his thoughts through that funny half-smile. Taking hold of her belt, he carefully led her to his bedroom. She'd seen the room many times through the open door, but she'd never actually been inside. It was nice. Clean and simple. The room was small, but the bed was huge, consisting mostly of a large flat mattress with an ornate brass headboard. The covers had been swept off to one side, where they lay in a jumble on the floor. All that was left was the bottom sheet and a few pillows. He maneuvered her to the side of the bed and stood her there.
The kissing and licking continued as her belt was undone and her skirt unzipped. The garment fell to the floor around her feet. Javier pulled her pantyhose down and helped her to sit. Getting down on one knee, he removed her heels and pantyhose. Then, she was surprised as he slipped the heels back onto her bare feet. He laid her on her back with her head on a pillow and arranged her comfortably. Or as comfortably as she could be with her hands tied behind her and her blouse and bra still dangling around her arms. He collected her other clothes and put them on the dresser.
She watched as he removed his own clothes until he was completely naked. Rachel found she was a little bit frightened. But that was silly. He wasn't going to hurt her; the worst that would happen would be that they would have sex. 'The worst that would happen.' The phrase bounced around in her head. Would that be bad? She wasn't sure. 'Trust me.'
Rachel didn't know how she felt about what was about to happen. But as Javier climbed into the bed, she felt a powerful surge of lust. Lying on her back with her hands tied, some of her clothing hanging loosely around her torso, and with her high heels still on, she felt small and awkward and powerless. Javier, looming above her in the subdued reflected light from the far room, was a ghostly figure. A demon or an angel? She couldn't tell.
He leaned down and kissed her. She closed her eyes and let him. The feel of his lips and tongue playing around hers was a powerful turn-on. His hands were on and around her breasts again, running lightly over her exposed skin. She spread her legs a little without even realizing she was doing so. She felt her own moisture and heat.
He shifted position and began kissing the side of her neck. He was incredibly skilled at this. She felt his hand slide down, past her breasts, across her belly, and come tantalizingly close to her pubic mound. For minutes, he did nothing but vary the foreplay. Rachel could feel the heat of a rash creeping from her chest up to her chin.
Javier stopped and left Rachel panting. He repositioned himself so that he was sitting on her belly. Leaning forward, he kissed her again. She could feel his body pressing into hers. The hair on his chest stimulated her breasts and sent a new fire of lust through her. She suddenly realized, almost as a shock, that she wanted him to fuck her. But with her hands tied, she had no power. He had complete control and was driving her to a higher pinnacle of desire than she'd never known.
He moved his legs between hers and sensually slid down her body. As he kissed her breasts again, she could feel his penis slide through the now wet valley of flesh between her legs. But he didn't enter her. He kept moving downward until he was completely between her legs, and his hot breath was washing over the wet flesh of her sex. She didn't feel his tongue, but she felt his fingers. She felt her lower lips being spread. A finger dipped in and out of her several times and then began to erotically circle her vagina and anus. She found herself almost trying to hump his hand as her pelvis seemed to take on a rhythmic life of its own.
He spent long minutes just toying with her. Playing with his fingers. Letting her feel his breath on her super-sensitive flesh. By now, she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her breathing was labored. She felt an intense desire to come.
And just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he buried his face in her sex and began to stimulate her clitoris with his lips and tongue. 'Oh God! That was incredible.' No one had ever taken this much time and effort to turn her on. For the first time in her sexual life, she was the complete center of attention. She had never known anyone with such skills. She had never felt so small and helpless.
He brought her to the crest of an orgasm but stopped before she came. She groaned. He plunged a finger into her, licked her clit some more, and moved his finger like a penis until she was again on the edge. And again, he stopped before she came. Her bound hands were balled into fists. He moved his finger down and circled her anus again, licking sideways against her clit as he did so. She gasped and pressed her pelvis upward against his face. It was difficult getting leverage while wearing the heels. She had a fleeting thought that she might puncture his mattress. He moved his hand back up, and this time, pushed two fingers into her. Despite her height, her sex organs were of average size. She was tight, and as his fingers pressed deeply into her, his tongue went back to work.
Rachel's mouth opened wide. Her breathing was deep and fast. She didn't know whether to laugh or scream or cry. The feelings were incredible. She'd never climaxed during sex before. She learned how to make herself come but only when masturbating in private. This was amazingly different.
His free hand wormed its way under her back and grasped one of her cuffed hands. She gripped him so fiercely she was afraid she might hurt him. But he squeezed back with astonishing force of his own. He pressed his lips quite strongly against her clit. He pushed his two fingers into her – hard, hard, hard. His tongue was whipping her clit with deliberate power.
And it happened.
There were no words to describe it. Her mouth was open, but she couldn't breathe. Her pelvis had ridden high up against his mouth. She screamed silently once, twice, a third time as muscle contractions overcame her. She started breathing again and heard the most astounding sounds of passion. Was that really her?
Javier had ridden her climax with consummate skill. Drawing it out, maximizing the pleasure, tapering off before it became painful or unpleasant.
Rachel found she was crying. Blubbering, in fact. That had been so good. She didn't know what to do.
Javier lifted his face and blew a stream of cool air over her wet sex. She gasped at the new sensation and continued to cry. He rolled her over onto her belly and untied her hands. He removed her shoes. Tenderly, he stripped off her now damp blouse. Rolling her on her side, he removed her bra.
Once naked and on her side, Javier snuggled up behind her. His face rested against the back of her neck. His still hard penis pressed against the top of her ass. He had placed one arm protectively over her and was softly cupping a breast. As she wept, he cooed soothingly in her ear, "Shhh, shhh, shhh" and delicately rubbed the side of her breast with his thumb.
Rachel was almost limp. She was still weeping and didn't know why.
"Shhh, shhh, shhh."
Eventually, she became quiet. For a long, long time, neither moved. At first, she couldn't seem to think at all. Then, she wondered why he had stopped there. Why hadn't he entered her? Was this some kind of rejection? Of course not. In a flash of understanding, she realized his only concern had been for her. A new emotion hit her like a wave. She felt loved. Her tears began flowing once more. She really felt loved.
Rachel reached down for the leg pressed up against hers. It was a strong, well-muscled leg. She moved her hand behind her back and felt his penis. It had softened considerably but was still inflated. She gently fondled it and felt it spring to full life.
Rachel moved her other arm under and behind her. She brought her wrists together and grasped his penis with both hands. She again felt his power and her own helplessness.
Javier waited.
Rachel shifted position, scooted up, and spread her legs a bit. She tried to position him into her from behind. Once Javier was sure of her intention, he sat up and rolled her over onto her belly. Without a word or gesture from him, she had left her wrists pressed together at the base of her spine.
He retied her wrists and massaged her clit until she was hot and ready again. Then, positioning himself between her legs, he entered her doggy style. She felt him pumping with long, measured strokes and could feel his balls swinging up against her clit. It wouldn't take a whole lot of that before she came a second time.
He loved her. That much was clear. He loved her, and he wanted her, and he knew how to care for her. Javier knew how to make her feel like a woman. Her mind was in a whirl. How did she feel about that?
As Javier hit his stride, she heard the passion in his breathing and felt the lust in his movements. She felt his body rhythmically pressing against her cuffed hands and knew she was in love.
* * * * * End of Story * * * * * | 4 |
119,112 | DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Coming to Take Me Away..." | 'They're coming to take me away, Hah Hah!
They're coming to take me away. Ho Ho, Hee Hee, Hah Hah!
To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time,
And I'll be happy to see those nice young men
In their clean white coats, and
They're coming to take me away, Hah Hah!'
-- by Napoleon the XIVth.
[Willowdale Psychiatric Institute, Philadelphia.]
[Case History: Patient - Carmichael, Phillip Owen. I.D. # 000-87-1842]
[Height - 5'8". Weight - 168. Caucasian. Hair - Brown. Eyes - Hazel.]
This man was seventeen when he attempted to rob a Federal bank. His weapon of choice was his hand, bent into a pistol, a fact which was revealed after he received the money his note demanded. He pulled his 'gun' from his jacket pocket and pretended to fire several bullets into the ceiling as he backed to the exit, making the appropriate sound effects vocally. Observing that the subject was, in fact, unarmed, a security guard apprehended him.
Throughout his arraignment and trial, the subject maintained that he possessed a 'real' weapon. A gun that he could make appear with a suitable gesture and banish by opening his hand. He was found mentally incompetent and sentenced to a maximum of ten years in a subsidized psychiatric hospital. The patient's motive for the attempted robbery was reportedly that he 'was out of money to buy bubble gum and comic books.'
During the past year, several experts have tried to show that Phillip was faking his incompetence to avoid incarceration. However, his symptoms have proved convincing to the facility staff. He has proved to be cooperative, but has of yet shown little signs of improving his condition.
Phillip smiled as he put his case folder away. He'd tried to make his commitment entertaining. Even with the dry clinical language they used here, some of the humor showed through. He'd got himself committed because he was tired of living on the streets, and even now he couldn't believe how close he'd come to getting away with the money. But that wasn't the point, so he'd 'shot at the ceiling'. The file didn't mention his knack for getting into places that he shouldn't, but his appointment as a trustee helped there.
He knew he wasn't supposed to be in the patient files, but that never stopped him before. He wondered what his friend's file said. His buddy Rex was a good-looking big man, with the mind of a child. Phillip never did find out how he got here. He pulled the file and sat back in the Institute Director's leather chair, his feet on the walnut desk.
[Willowdale Psychiatric Institute, Philadelphia.]
[Case History: Patient - Timmons, Rex Harrison. I.D. # 000-41-6954]
[Height - 6'5". Weight - 290. Caucasian. Hair - Blonde. Eyes - Blue.]
A varsity Junior in a college football team, this patient was a star Center in contention for the Heisman Trophy. Known for his fearless charges and aggressive playing style, his team was in the first game of the Playoffs, when he was critically injured.
He'd gone literally head-to-head with a defensive lineman at crushing speeds. (See video footage, and photos.) The defensive man's neck was broken, and he remains paralyzed. The patient's helmet split, and a piece of it drove into his brain. Rushed to the hospital, they managed to remove the foreign object. He lay in a coma, while his parents negotiated a substantial monetary settlement from the helmet manufacturer.
Eventually he awoke, but he wasn't the same. His mind had regressed to his childhood. His parents couldn't deal with a 'six-foot preschooler' (their term) who could inadvertently injure them while playing. Regretfully, they committed him to the Institute, where he could be cared for adequately, and watched for any sign of return of his adult mentality. So far, the prognosis for such a recovery has been very poor.
Wow. Phillip frowned. He thought of the crayon picture his friend had drawn for him. Rex said it was puppies and flowers, and Phillip could just about make that out. It was crudely drawn, but painstakingly colored with much effort and concentration from the bigger man. Now it was Phillip's prize possession and hung above his bunk in a place of honor. Rex wasn't a screw up, like himself. He'd had a good life, before he was hurt. It was a shame. If only he could help....
Phillip shrugged. His friend had plenty of food and clothing, and the maid service couldn't be beat. He wouldn't be hurt anymore, and he didn't have to work for a living. Since that condition was Phillip's main ambition in life to achieve, he couldn't imagine that Rex would want anything else. But still....
A knock on the door made him jump up and straighten the files and quietly close the cabinet, retrieving his wire lock pick. Rex's signal meant someone was coming. He scanned the room, making sure it was in order. Phillip took the small bag of waste paper and left the office, locking the door as he did so. His peripheral vision told him the intruder was Nurse Kratchen, the nastiest nurse at the institution. She was one of the few staffers he hadn't been able to charm. He thought she was a prune-faced, dried-up old spinster harridan, and she didn't like him much either.
"Come on, come on," she said impatiently. "You have two more corridors to finish before dinner or you won't get those privileges you wanted."
Rex turned a frown to Phillip, his big hands tightening anxiously on his mop. Phillip shrugged back. She didn't have the authority to break their agreement with the floor's head doctor, but she could make a complaint if they didn't appear to hop to her directions, as senior nurse.
As trustees, they didn't have to do any janitorial work, but they did it to earn time in the computer lab. Phillip liked shoot'emups, and diplomacy games, while Rex avoided anything that seemed to be confrontational. The big man liked simple puzzle games and simulations, as anything complex gave him a headache.
Ms. Kratchen watched them work for a while, then went about her duties. Phillip nodded at Rex, and went into her office to tidy up. Before he took her trash out to the cart, he hit the catch of her hidden stash of psychoactive medicines. He already knew they weren't accounted for on any inventory in the institute. He used the pills to buy favors from the staff and patients. He had no idea what she used them for. Much the same as he did, he supposed.
The handle of Rex's mop hit the office door, and Phillip cleared out of the secret cabinet in seconds, hiding the bottle he'd taken just as quickly. That was the signal for someone coming so quickly his friend couldn't knock to warn him. He was reaching for the door with the bag of trash when Nurse Kratchen jerked the door open. She scowled at him, as her eyes raked past him to see if anything was out of place.
"Hurry up and get out, you," she grumbled. "I have to make a phone call." Phillip smiled docilely, and slipped out of her way. As her door clicked shut, the two continued with their chores without further incident.
Later that night, after they'd enjoyed their computer time, he made the exchange with Bob, the orderly. Thirty Valium pills were traded for one over-the-counter bottle of chewable Vitamin C for him, and a bottle of Flintstone's Vitamins for Rex. Phillip could have gotten cigarettes, alcohol, or porno for the stuff, but he considered it a good trade. Anything he could do to make his big friend happy was worth it to him.
Phillip started hearing the Congressional hearings about the Debt Crises after he'd been at Willowdale for almost a year. The facility was State funded, and quiet rumors of cutbacks and cost-cutting ran rampant among the staff. The patients were mostly upset that their cartoons and Soaps weren't on. When the Atlanta Riots hit the news along with graphic footage of the Trucker's death, the day room TV's cable feed was disconnected. They only saw videos after that.
He had a bad feeling about the way things were going. Phillip understood the news more than most of the patients.According to the newspapers he 'borrowed' from the trash, Congress was frantically trying to create a special funding bill to at least pay the outstanding interest of the debt the U.S. owed to friend and foe alike, to keep the country's credit good.
But it was mid-Spring, with another scorching Summer forecast, and following a wickedly cold Winter that had killed thousands across the country. FEMA was stretched to the limit, and the projected taxes that were only now trickling in were insufficient. There weren't enough liquid funds in the government to make the budget's frayed ends meet.
Nation after nation turned down humble U.S. requests for loans. They were all being hit hard to pay their own debt, and were demanding that their creditors pay in turn. It was a cycle that proved endless. No country could completely clear their debt to offer help to any other. Wars were threatened, and crippling special taxes levied, but taxpayers the world over rebelled.
Whole armies and police forces began to vanish when their pay disappeared. The Atlanta Riots were the first domestic sign of just how bad it was going to get. When Congress ended the session early without resolving the situation, Phillip began to quietly prepare to leave. It was harder than it used to be, because he had to consider Rex. Phillip knew how to live on the road, but his giant buddy was as naive as a child.
Some staff members stopped showing up after the second IOU in lieu of a paycheck. Others came back just long enough to steal things, like the computers and the televisions from the day rooms. The rest of the staff grimly hung on, surviving on the supplies they shared with the patients. As long as living here was easier than the outside, Phillip would stay.
He and Rex were almost invisible to the tense staff, and Phillip liked it that way. They helped clean the place and didn't make any trouble. He was surprised, though, to see a new face with everything that was going on. Doctor Berger was wheeling in a pretty girl to the women's ward a few days after the facility's Director cleared out his desk and left.
The girl, a Miss Christina Spencer, was a transfer from a private facility across town that had shut down. Doctor Berger wanted to keep her under treatment, it seemed. It looked to Phillip like the man was a little too possessive of the vacant-faced girl. Still, it wasn't any of his business. Nurse Kratchen came up behind Phillip while he was distracted from his sweeping, slapping his elbow, and making him jump.
"Get busy, you slacker," she said. No one had ever struck him here before, and he didn't like it. He didn't let it show on his face, though. The missing Director had a strict policy of not using any force on the patients beyond what was absolutely necessary. It looked like that policy left when he did. Along with the food getting progressively worse, it was just another thing encouraging him to leave.
Over the next few weeks, as he and Rex did their chores they saw difficult patients strapped to their beds, or cuffed into line. Tranquilizer doses were increased in some cases, and a nightly lock-down was instituted for everyone but staff. Phillip stopped most of his usual extracurricular activities, and concentrated on getting the equipment and supplies for his planned escape.
In the day room one day, an orderly Phillip did 'business' with took him aside. "Look, Phillip," Bob said, "Steve and I are going into town to Sammy's Market. We need the food, and there's an attached Pharmacy."
"That's a small store, isn't it?" Phillip said. "What about the bigger..."
"Those are already looted," the orderly said. "The cases are broken and anything frozen or fridged is spoiled. Sammy's is out of the way, and it was still locked last night. Those just going through the area must have missed it. We need a big group though, so we want you and Rex along."
"You know Rex won't fight," Phillip said dubiously.
"Yeah, but he won't need to," Bob said. "He's big enough to scare 'em. You two are reliable, and you're a good scrounger. This will help you too, Phillip. What do you say?"
"We'll be there," Phillip said. He figured getting a look outside was a good idea. "Maybe I can get him to frown at anybody coming near." They both laughed at the idea of raiders fleeing from the gentle man's scowl.
The raid on Sammy's went perfectly. Phillip opened the doors, and the team loaded up the big flatbed. On the way back was when trouble struck. A makeshift barricade that wasn't there the first time brought the truck to a halt. Several ragged men stepped around it to face them, some of them with guns. "Leave the truck and go," one of them said, as the others shuffled nervously.
"Not a chance," said Bob, raising his own pistol. Phillip gingerly fingered the trank gun Steve shoved into his hands. The orderly glared at Rex for refusing to take one. The blonde giant flinched at the look.
"Rex, old buddy," Phillip whispered, "we just need you to pretend to be mad at them. If you don't do something, they could hurt us... hurt me."
"Hurt you?" Rex's blue eyes widened, then narrowed in a frown. "No. I won't let them." His great paw wrapped around a baseball bat next to Phillip, and he climbed down to face the men. They jumped at the apparition of the towering All-State linebacker, and all but one of them broke and ran. The last one swung a knife at Rex, cutting the big man's knuckles slightly, until Rex knocked the blade away with the bat.
Phillip fired the trank gun, catching the bandit in the shoulder. As Rex raised his weapon over his head, the man collapsed. Rex paused, and looked confused. He looked at the unconscious man, and then at his bloodied hands holding the aluminum bat. It dropped from Rex's nerveless fingers, and he whimpered suddenly.
Rex groped back to the truck-bed, ashen faced, rubbing his hands together. "Don't leave anything behind, Phillip," Bob said. Phillip hopped down and retrieved the bat, the knife, and even the trank dart. On the ride back to Willowdale, Rex kept rubbing his hands against his pants, tears flowing down his face.
"What's the matter, buddy?" Phillip said.
"I didn't want to hurt him, Phillip," Rex said, with a sniffle. "But, I didn't want him to hurt you, or me... Oh, I don't want to hurt anyone!" Phillip could hear the anguish in his friend's voice.
"It's ok, Rex," Phillip said. "You won't have to. I promise." Phillip was quiet for the rest of the evening. He'd come to this place to avoid responsibility, but it was time he faced facts; he had one. All six feet five, two hundred and ninety pounds of him.
Sleep that night was difficult for both of them. Rex tossed in the grip of nightmares, and Phillip could hardly sleep. At one point he could have sworn he saw a black shadow flow through the walls and seep into both of them. In the morning he shook his head at the memory. He had dreamed it, or this place was finally getting to him, and he really was going crazy.
They were both gripped in a sudden fever the next day. A few of the others were sick, but none as bad as they were. Rex seemed calmer after the fever broke the day after, and Phillip felt strangely more confident. He prepared for an immediate departure, putting the hunting knife he'd taken in his secret stash of supplies.
He concealed his stash again, and turned to see Nurse Kratchen standing silently behind him. She had a look of pure 'gotcha' on her face. Acting crazy was an old habit that was hard to break, Phillip realized. He straightened imperiously, and waggled his fingers at her. "You don't see anything unusual," he intoned, with his best fake-British accent. "These aren't the 'Droids you're looking for."
The harridan blinked, and swayed briefly. Phillip's head blossomed suddenly with a spike of pure pain, as he focused all his gift of 'convincing' people into the command. He forced himself to continue when he sensed her confusion. "There's no one here," he insisted in his normal voice.
"No one here," Kratchen repeated dully.
"You have important things to do," he said firmly, trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose.
"Important things..." she muttered, and wandered away down the hall. Phillip ran to the bathroom and cleaned up. His 'Old Jedi mind trick' had really worked! After he came to terms with that, he began to think how he would use it.
The first thing to do would be to avoid the curfew, and see what was going on at night. Rex agreed to pretend his friend was with him, as a game. Phillip locked eyes with the nurse who came to lock them in. She obligingly showed him where the spare set of keys were, and went back to locking doors.
Phillip prowled the halls, telling anyone he met that he wasn't there. Near the women's ward, he saw an exchange made between a young intern and a stranger. The man gave the doctor six cans of food, and the intern let him into one of the women's rooms. From the way the guy was unbuckling his pants as he went in, Phillip could guess what he'd purchased.
It wasn't right, though, he thought. Then he wondered where he'd grown a conscious from. To be sure though, he came in after the stranger, to find him busy fucking the girl in the room. She was bound hand and foot to the bed, totally nude. An open tube of K-Y jelly had been thoughtfully placed on the bed stand, and from the smell the guy had used it, just as he was using the girl.
The animalistic grunting, the primal thrusting motions of the man's hairy flanks, and the wet noises of his balls slapping against her had an effect on Phillip. His cock swelled, and he stroked it. He was tempted to tell the guy to move over, so he could dip his own wick in her now juicy cunt.He moved over to see her better and started in shock. He knew the girl. She was an autistic. Phillip had never gotten her to talk or even to smile in all the time he'd been there, and he'd certainly tried. She was a Jane Doe at the institute, with no one to miss her and no one to turn to.
She didn't make complaining noises as the man roughly twisted and bit her nipples. Jane just stared up at the ceiling, a trickle of drool running from her slack mouth. She was panting from the pounding she was getting, and Phillip thought he saw a hint of tension around her eyes. Her hands were clenched on her pillow, and suddenly he had enough.
He made eye contact with the man. "Pull out, dude. Go sit on the floor." The man slowed down, his face contorting in a grimace. He started to pull back, but his reluctance made him very slow. Phillip barked, "Now!" The guy did what he was told. Phillip rubbed his spiking headache and felt another warm trickle on his lip. Just a trace of blood, this time.
The girl's breathing quieted, and the tension, if he'd really seen any, faded, as her hands relaxed. Phillip still had an aching cock, and the guy was still there. He had to make this look good. "Sorry, Jane," he said. He unzipped and masturbated quickly, bringing himself to climax. He sprayed some on her cunt and then shot on the man's groin.
Catching his breath, he looked at the guy and caught his attention. "You just had a good time with her," he said, "and you feel relaxed. Now get outta here."
The man stood up and wiped up on a provided towel. Then he put on his clothing and left. Phillip wiped up also. He wished he could help her... but no. Jane was a lot of work to handle, and there was no way he and Rex could take care of her on the road. They had to leave her, unfortunately. Back in the hall, the man was talking to the intern again.
"So, how much to get her from you, for good?" he said.
The intern, to his credit, shook his head. "I don't think you appreciate how much trouble it is to care for an autistic. Dressing, bathing, meals, bathroom; you have to help her with everything." Cynically, Phillip thought his show of concern was touching.
"Don't care," the man said. "I want her. I got a whole case of stew and a bottle of something good for you, Doc."
Furious, Phillip grabbed the guy's chin, relying on his standing command to prevent the intern from noticing. "Listen, you. I think you'll leave now and give him all that stuff anyway. Don't come back. In fact..." and Phillip pushed here with everything he had, "...you just suddenly realized you're gay, and you need to come out to all your friends."
The guy turned pasty white, and Phillip didn't feel any better. He felt like his brains were going to leak out of his ears any minute now. It was definitely time to leave the place.
Phillip got his stash, then woke up Rex and got him dressed. As he turned out the lights, he spotted Rex's crayon drawing. Carefully, he took it off the wall and tucked it into the bag his friend was carrying. "Come on, big guy," he said. "It's time to leave."
It was getting hard for Phillip to keep people from noticing. His head pounded terribly, and he felt his energy draining. Still, he had to get them out of there. It wasn't safe anymore. They were almost to the exit when a room burst open, and a naked girl ran sobbing into Rex.
The big man stared in shock. She was naked! Then he registered that she was crying, and patted her head with one enormous hand. "It's ok," he rumbled. "Why are you sad?" She froze for a moment, staring up at him. Then, apparently deciding he was no threat, she clung to him, still crying so hard she couldn't speak.
"Ditch her, Rex," Phillip hissed. "We can't help everyone here. We've got to look out for ourselves."
"No," Rex said. He used that soft, deep tone that Phillip knew there was no arguing with.
The door opened again, and a disheveled Dr. Berger stood there, glaring. He had scratches on his face and a darkening bruise under one eye. His pants were unzipped, half revealing his shrinking penis. The girl 'eeked', and scrambled to hide behind Rex. Rex frowned at him.
"You there," the doctor snapped. "Bring her back in here... say, you're patients. What are you doing out of your rooms?" He raised his voice, "Orderlies!"
"Quiet!" Phillip said. Fear allowed him to tap resources he didn't know he still had. "Sit down. Forget us. You're having a nightmare. You must be asleep." The doctor's eyes closed, and he slumped over.
Rex was still patting the girl gently, and she was trying to articulate something to him. "Help... he... pictures... drugs...."
Phillip sighed and went into the room. There were the usual shackles on the bed, but the room also had an expensive camera on a nice tripod. There were film canisters and piles of negatives and developed pictures of the naked girl. Tucked in the camera case was a large manila envelope with more pictures, nasty ones. The envelope said 'Happy Father's Day, Senator Spenser'. It was addressed to Boston, Mass. Phillip shrugged, it was as good a place as any.
A journal was next to the envelope, and Phillip skimmed it. It detailed the drugs that kept the girl docile for the doctor's obsession, and for his planned blackmail against her father. She had seen him abuse another female patient, while being treated by him for 'nerves'. It was unfortunate that she'd suddenly 'collapsed', requiring the doctor's constant care.
Phillip collected all the evidence, including the camera equipment. He pulled more film rolls from the doctor's pocket. He even woke the man up and made him open the safe in his office next door to get the last of it. In the hall, Rex had wrapped the doctor's lab coat around the girl.
"Come on," Phillip said. "We'll get her some clothes from the nurse's lockers." They turned back into the Institute. "She coming with us?"
"She wants to go home, Phillip," Rex said. "We can take her."
"She's from Boston, Rex," Phillip said, only half arguing. "Do you know how far away that is?" The truth was, Phillip had a very good idea that Senator Spenser would be glad to see his daughter again.
"No, but we can try," Rex said. He looked anxious that his friend agree with him.
"Yeah, we can try, old buddy," Phillip said. Rex's smile made it worth it. It didn't take long to gather some clothes for Christina, and they finally left the institute.
By dawn they were holed up in an empty house across the city. By the end of the week, they were ready to head out of state. They stayed long enough to scrounge the rest of the supplies they'd need for the trip. Phillip didn't think they would get much hospitality.
It was only a thumb's length journey on the map Phillip picked up a month later. He'd found it on the littered floor of a looted mini-mart near their hideout 'du jour'. Only a thumb's length, but that translated to a little less than 200 miles between Philadelphia and Boston. He'd gotten a groggy debutante and a super-sized preschooler over most of that distance.
He worked out a little bottle of Bayer's wedged behind the lower shelf of the minimal medicine section. He seemed to have a headache all the time now. He'd already grabbed everything else useful, so he slipped out the back to meet up with his companions.
Rex had cut his foot walking barefoot in camp a couple of days ago. Luckily Christina didn't need the big guy to carry her anymore, as the drug-cocktail Dr. Berger fed her gradually left her system. She was mostly coherent, but her temper was fragile.
Phillip didn't know if it was because of the lingering chemicals, or just a newly learned distrust of people. Whatever the reason, Phillip was more concerned with keeping Rex's bandage clean.
When he got back, Rex was watching Chris cautiously pet a gaunt, half grown puppy drinking water from a hubcap. It turned and lunged at him when he approached, snarling viciously.
Instinctively, Phillip dropped to one knee and locked eyes with the dog. "Easy," he said softly. "We're no threat to you, but I'm boss here." Cringing back, it lay down, exposing its belly. A female, he noted. He cemented his words by grasping her throat briefly.
He divided some stale beef jerky from the mini-mart between the humans, leaving the last piece for the dog. She wagged her tail as she devoured the scrap, then turned back to the water. Phillip's headache was back, so he took some of the aspirin.
Briefly, Phillip considered a way to tell Rex that keeping the animal was a bad idea. But as he watched them, his friend smiled joyfully as he used his brush on the dog, and even Chris seemed more relaxed. The pup wriggled over to Phillip and submissively licked his hand. He sighed. Like with the girl, he seemed to have gained more responsibility.
"The puppy is cute, Phillip," Rex said. "Now all we need are some flowers."
Phillip gave him a curious look. Rex could hardly remember what happened a few days ago, but it sounded like he was referring to the drawing, from months ago. He was shaking his head at the thought when the pup yelped. Immediately a big pair of hands scooped her up like she was newborn. Rex looked her over and found where she had sliced open a paw on something sharp.
"Poor girl," the big man rumbled, "hurt feet are no fun." He rubbed his hands over her again, and Christina gasped. Rex's hands were glowing. They were surrounded by a softly pulsing golden light. The light clung to the injured foot, and when Rex put her down again, she didn't limp.
His face intent, Rex took off his shoe and unwrapped his bandage. The fading glow picked up again, and as they watched, the cut healed.Rex absently brushed off the dried scab. "I can make hurts better," he said. He rubbed the scar on his temple, and the glow became too brilliant to bear.
It faded after several minutes, and Phillip looked up to see an unfamiliar clarity in his friend's eyes. Rex smiled and took Phillip's hand. Through the golden nimbus, Phillip felt the band of pain that had been with him day and night since they left the institute snap away. He sobbed in relief.
Rex turned to Christina, and he framed her face with his big hands. He frowned slightly. "Those were bad drugs," he said. "I can help, but it will take time. I can help anybody." The big man sat back, closing his eyes. He laughed ruefully. "I can't believe I used to *like* football."
"Rex!" Phillip said, holding Rex's shoulder. "My head feels so much better. But you... you remember."
"A little," Rex said. "Bits and pieces. My brain was pretty badly damaged. I've been remembering stuff for a few days now. It's like it all happened to someone else, but that's okay. I'm a different person now.
"But..." his voice sounded bemused, "I remember most of my schooling, but not my college major. I remember my parents and my room, but not what color the house was. Things like that. I'll probably be able to get most of it back, but some things are gone forever."
"I'm just glad you're okay," Phillip said. He had a queasy feeling in his stomach, but he didn't let it show. If Rex was okay, would they still be friends? So much of his life lately had been wrapped up in caring for the bigger man. If things were different, Phillip didn't know what he'd do.
He should have known better. Rex knew him too well. Before he could react, he was pulled into an economy-sized embrace. "It's okay, Phillip," Rex said in his ear. "You're still my friend, and you always will be. I just don't need you to be 'daddy' anymore. We'll look out for each other."
Tears welled up in Phillip's street-hardened eyes, and he hugged his friend back. He had never had a place to belong since he ran away from his unhappy home years ago. Now, he had a family again.
Two weeks later, two men, a girl, and a dog made their way into Boston. Eagerly, Christina led them to an expensive home. Her reunion with her father in his study was tearful on her part, suspicious on his.
"How much do you want for bringing her back to me?" the Senator said, with narrowed eyes. The two men were scruffy looking; desperately in need of a change and some grooming.
"We don't want any money, sir," Phillip said. "Not that it's worth much now. It was just the right thing to do." He ignored Rex's raised eyebrow and smile. He was negotiating. "We don't even want anything for this," he continued. He handed him a bag with Dr. Berger's journal, the film, and pictures.
The Senator sat down heavily as he looked over the items, cursing steadily. He turned as if to throw it all into the fire, when Phillip restrained him. "We left him alive, sir," Phillip explained. "If a set of laws comes back to the country, you'll need evidence of his wrongdoing to get him punished. Put it in your safe, and wait."
"That makes sense," the Senator admitted. "But what am I going to do with you two?" He looked at them appraisingly.
"We are not without skills, sir," Phillip said. "My friend here can heal people, so he can work at a clinic." Phillip had a small scratch on his hand, that his friend took care of in front of the Senator. "As for me, I can do counseling and behavior modification. For example, Chris told me you smoked."
As he said it, the Senator was putting a cigarette in his mouth. "I'm trying to quit," the Senator said distractedly, fumbling for a lighter. Phillip slapped his hands down loudly on the big desk. Startled, Christina's father looked up, and Phillip had him. Once their eyes locked, the other man could not look away until Phillip allowed him to.
"When you light that," he said, "it will smell and taste like everything nasty and disgusting you have ever seen, felt, or imagined being set on fire in front of your nose. You'll put it out immediately, of course. After that, whenever you get a craving for tobacco, you'll remember that smell clearly. Even the shakes won't be so bad in comparison."
Smiling, Phillip handed the Senator his lighter. The man lit the cigarette with a skeptical look. He drew in some smoke and started choking. Half retching, he stubbed it out quickly. His hands automatically drew out another, but he paused with it halfway to his mouth. He stared at the cigarette, wrinkling his nose at some odor only he could smell. Slowly, he put it back in the pack.
"Just put them in your drawer until you're sure you want to get rid of them," Phillip said. "When you've made the mental adjustment and don't need them anymore, throw them away. Now, can you see how I can help people?"
The Senator nodded, accepting the suggestions. Soon Rex and Phillip were working at a Boston hospital, performing wonders. | 4 |
120,168 | The Shopper's Orgy, Or, The Saturnalia Before Christmas | 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the malls,
Crowds piled to the rafters and massed in the halls,
As bags crammed with gifts swung from fierce clutching hands,
In a hope to fulfill family Christmas demands.
For all of the hoopla through preceding weeks
Changed everyone's kids into toy-lusting freaks.
While Pop's gleaming bonus and Mom's Christmas fund
Had been beaten, and eaten, and long been outrun.
I bought the last present, my money had taken flight.
"Christmas shopping is over!" I cried with delight.
And then as I pictured them under the tree,
I discovered I hadn't got something for me!
A sound from an alley behind opaque glass
Proved the Adult Toy Shoppe was having a blast!
Away to that alley I lunged with a rush,
Pushed open their entrance and joined the mad crush.
And there in the midst of consumer elation,
Stood a nook of resources for sex recreation,
With buxom assistants to show, lest you scoff,
Demonstrating their wares, also how to get off.
So just as I entered, briefly pausing to gape,
A salesgirl swooped down, before I could escape.
With a hand on my arm the girl drew me aside,
And made me an offer I never had tried.
On one displayed breast the girl rouged up her teat
With a peach-flavored blush, so I sampled this treat.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear
But her alternate nipple and its flavor - beer!
Those sweet little salesgirls, so ready to play
In a twink... please excuse me, I thought they were gay!
More rapid than Ronco, calling sex aids by name,
Demonstrating each feature, as customers came.
"Try Anal Beads! Rumble balls, Clit Clamps - they're scary!
Or Beat-Me & Eat-Me-Whips, licorice or cherry."
From the top of the shelf, and from under the counter
Came arcane devices to blow him, or mount her.
Artificial vaginas, cock enlargers and rings,
Cybernetic sex dollies, and other man-things.
Butt plugs and dildos - heads: single or double
Nipple clamps, Ben Wa, or a Gimp Mask for trouble.
The customers crowded the counters and shelves,
To admire the goods - activate on themselves.
They assisted each other, sometimes without asking,
And soon were compelled to commence multitasking.
Till they roused like a dirty old man with a virgin
Or that celibate, sworn to be rid of her burden
As the shoppers around this seductive display
Were clasped in a fog of aphrodisiac spray.
And then, with a flaring of each straining nostril,
The customers turned into Spartans who'd lost will.
And before I could cover my breasts or my rear,
The hem of my skirt had been yanked past my ear.
And all I could see was this wee chubby elf
Who lifted my dress while he kneaded himself.
Before I could flee from this obscene abuse
He grabbed me, and held me - would not turn me loose.
His hand at my loins made a mess of my pussy,
But I, sniffing spray too, was no longer fussy.
He ripped off my panties - pantyhose hung in tatters
Then bunged in his cock with a slap and a splatter.
His saucer-shaped eyes staring up were quite glassy,
As his one hand grasped ass, and the other my chassis.
The drool from his mouth dribbled all down his tie
To mix with our love juice, sometime, by and by.
My taut swollen nipple he held 'twixt his teeth,
While his dick burrowed upwards from somewhere beneath.
His hand on my ass, I could not feel distincter,
I thought, till he entered his thumb in my sphincter.
He was chubby and short, but he really could jump,
As his dick 'gainst my cervix went bumpity-bump.
The bright crimson glow on his glistening bald pate,
Soon gave me to know he'd been desperate to mate.
He splayed me and played from under my chin
As he poked up, fell out, and jumped upward again.
Then I - crouching lower - my knees turned to jelly,
Felt his heat as he massaged his chest with my belly.
He spoke not a word, neither grunting nor groaning
Just silently gave me a masterful boning.
Then hooking a leg behind - and pressing fore,
Till I tripped, and we fell - and then screwed on the floor.
And wrapping thick fingers all 'round my soft neck
He gradually choked me - exciting, by heck!
And jumping aboard me he hammered away,
While the milling crowd moved on, or watched our display.
His eyes, how they glittered, his nostrils were flaring,
His hips swiveled 'rounded like 'twere made with ball bearings.
In a flash or a twinkle, he twice made me cum
Him alone first - and once when they stepped on his bum.
Then, "Hark!" As betwixt my thighs I heard a whistle,
He exploded inside, like a Tomahawk missile.
But I heard him declare, just before I blacked out,
"I come only at Christmas, and there's never no doubt!" | 3 |
120,420 | Salma | 'You are going to visit my mother, and I don't want to hear anything else,' Naila shouted. Normally, I wouldn't mind visiting my in-laws, but the trouble was that they had recently separated. Together, they were bearable, but after the separation, it was hard to spend two minutes with them. To be fair, I had only met Naila's mother once since then, and that too for a couple of minutes at the airport. I had been on an official tour, and surprisingly, she was leaving within 20 minutes of my arrival at the airport.
On our way home, Naila had been very gloomy. Being the only child of a recently separated couple wasn't easy, and I hadn't been able to give her much comfort because of my frequent official touring.
When Naila found out that I had to go to Hastings on my next business trip, she had been after my life. She was adamant that I visit her mother since she was so lonely after the separation. I had remained non-committal, but after she started crying, I grudgingly agreed.
My flight was delayed due to foggy weather, and I reached Hastings around ten at night. My mother-in-law, Salma, welcomed me with a big smile and a big peck on the cheek. After having chicken and ham pie, we retired to the sitting room and talked for half an hour or so. She didn't bore me with her broken marriage talk, and I was grateful. No sooner had she shown me the room I would be sleeping in that I changed into pajamas and fell on the bed.
I was tired, but strangely, sleep was miles away. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, I switched on the TV. The screen came alive, and so did Donald Duck. A flick of a button later, I was subjected to a horrific laughter show. I ran through the channels like Marion Jones, and my progress was eventually halted by a naked lady. I had chanced upon a pornographic movie. I wasn't a huge sucker for these kinds of movies, but the girl in the film was one of the sexiest women I had ever seen. Soon, I was engrossed in her fiery red hair, her luscious lips, her angelic face, and her perfect breasts.
My penis had woken up from its slumber and had quickly attained its seven-inch pinnacle. I wasn't even aware of my pajama bottoms slipping off, and my hand running through my shaft like a well-oiled piston. I didn't even hear the soft knock on the door and came to my senses only when I saw Salma walking into the room with a glass of milk in her hand (My wife had apparently told her mother that I had recently been in the habit of drinking a hot glass of chocolate milk before going to sleep.)
I was mortified as she witnessed the awkward scene. Her eyes did a double take as she looked at my penis, and after a few seconds, an amused smile broke on her lips. She giggled, and I looked at her embarrassed. It was a disarming laugh, and even though I had never been close to her, I thought that her laughter was to make me feel comfortable. And that is why her next sentence shocked me like a bolt of 440 volts of electricity running through my body.
'You are a very naughty boy, watching such dirty movies and masturbating on top of that,' she said. 'I must say Naila is very lucky, you are quite well hung. Let me check how hard it really is...'
She put the glass down on the side-table and sat on the bed. She reached out and grabbed my cock without any visible inhibitions. To say that I was dumbstruck by her actions would be a gross understatement. I was dumbstruck at the ease and confidence with which she was feeling my penis. As my shock wore off, another kind of feeling started to cloud my mind. I was getting aroused for the second time, but this time it was under the expert hands of my mother-in-law.
As she slid her hand back and forth, my penis felt harder and bigger than ever before. Almost mechanically, I started to thrust the lower part of my body as if her grip was a pussy of a real woman. I don't know how long this continued, but I felt I was in heaven and wasn't even aware that I was moaning. I was just about to explode when she abruptly removed her hand. Almost instantly, the spell was broken as I stared at Salma's eyes.
She was still smiling in an amused manner. 'It's been years since I have felt as hard a penis.' I remained silent. This was an uncharted territory.
Salma Khan, even at the age of 52, was quite a beauty. She had aged sexily. She was 5'10" with a sultry complexion and rich, green eyes with sharp, chiseled features. From what I had heard from my wife, Salma was a regular at the gym.
For the first time, I had really seen her for the woman that she was, not as my mother-in-law. I think she could clearly see the lust in my eyes as she spoke again. 'If what I'm thinking is correct, then I should be angry since my son-in-law is thinking about cheating on my daughter. But I am not, I am far from being angry. I am, I am...'
The smile had disappeared from her face. I could sense her mind working furiously, weighing the pros and cons of such a combustible situation. I continued looking at her, waiting for my sentence when she smiled again and said, 'You are as guilty as I am.'
Unable to hide my desperation, I got off the bed and said in a romantic tone, 'I plead guilty and would love to be punished by you.'
She looked at me in surprise, and then a truly happy smile broke off on her angelic face. 'Remove your shirt.'
Since the shirt was the only thing that was on my body, I accomplished that task in about five seconds. It was so awkward, but I stood resolutely still, my mind overflowing with lust. She gave my body an appraising look and said, 'Let's go to my bedroom.'
Her bedroom was large and tastefully furnished with a large bed. She motioned me to retire on the bed and opened a cupboard. Standing on tiptoes to reach the top rack, my attention was sharply moved to her exposed calves, beneath her skirt, as they exploded with jagged diamond-shaped muscle.
She threw a condom, which she had extracted from the cupboard, on the bed. Her fingers slid caressingly under my chin. She smiled as her hand left my face and made its way to my chest, massaging it, rubbing my nipples in a sensuous manner.
I could see that she was unable to take her eyes off my erection. She put her hands under my armpits and guided me to a standing position. Taking my hand, she led me to a large leather chair. She plopped on the big chair and ordered me to remain standing.
Reaching out, my mother-in-law wrapped the fingers of her right hand around my large erection. Leaning forward, she began to run her tongue over my engorged cockhead. Suddenly, she stopped and looked at me appraisingly.
'Why don't you do something for me first?' She said. On my nodding acquiescence, she asked me to accompany her to her bed. We plopped down on the soft mattress. 'Lick my feet!' She ordered.
Blinded by lust, I immediately fell on all fours and started licking her feet and sucking her toes. I was alarmed at first by the size of her feet. They were at least 11 inches long and quite broad as well. I had never seen such large feet on a woman. I got a little thrill at the thought of wearing her sandals and noticing that they were too big for me.
While I was sucking and licking her feet, Salma had removed her shirt, and her huge breasts were threatening to jump out of her blue bra. I wanted to release those tits, but I was afraid to take the initiative. After her skirt had come off, displaying long, lean yet wiry thighs, she sat up and, taking my hand, pulled me into a sitting position as well. Then she took me by the shoulder and turned me the other way so that my ass was snugly placed on her thighs. I was surprised at how hard her thighs felt, but I thought none of it anymore because my bare back was gently squeezing her boobs.
Suddenly, she inserted her middle finger right up my asshole. I jumped up, but she held me tight. 'Don't worry, I won't hurt you,' she cooed in my ear, nibbling it tenderly. With her other hand, she started toying with my cock. Her expert handling soon had me begging for release.
She gave a last quick squeeze to my cock before getting off the bed and making me lie down. She was standing there like a Greek goddess, clad in a blue bra and matching panty.
'You are a copy of Naila,' I exclaimed.
'No, you are wrong, Naila is a copy, I am the original.'
Unable to fight my desire any more, I leapt on her and tore off her bra. Her big yet firm breasts jumped out of her 38C bra. She had large pinkish-brown nipples. As I started sucking her boobs like a maniac, Salma heaved a sigh of relief. 'Oh Rehan, it's been so long since my boobs were pumped and sucked.'
She moaned with delight, grabbed my hair, and pulled down my head in the direction of her pussy, which was by now hot like a fireball out of hell. "Lick my cunt!" she whispered hoarsely. In less than five seconds, her panties came off. Her golden-black pubic bush was dense; her clit hidden behind the thick jungle of hair.
I wasn't thrilled with the prospect of licking her cunt and made my displeasure felt. 'Err... Salma, I'm not sure I want to do that,' I said haltingly.
She smiled incredulously and said, 'I'm not sure you are in a position to argue!' Before I could comprehend what she meant, her hands grabbed my hair and pushed me down on my back.
I was caught unaware, but as she sat up on my chest, straddling my neck with her legs, I thought 'what the hell! A man's got to start sometime.'Even while I was making up my mind, she sifted forward so her thighs were around my ears and my face mashed against her wet cunt.
I was shocked to see that my head was entirely lost in her thighs. Her thighs had not appeared so thick, but now that she was straining, they seemed to have bulked up considerably. "Get going, sonny!" she said.
Reluctantly, I started licking her pussy. It was easier said than done as she started grinding my face in her hairy pussy as her clit started to thrust against my teeth. "Oh, yeah, baby, that's it, keep doing it... unh!" she screamed. I uttered a scream too as she muscled in on my head with her hard, beefed-up thighs.
With her right hand, she started working my cock, making it hard in her educated hands. Her hand job was remarkable, and I wondered if I'd last more than a minute. But then she grabbed my nuts, squeezing them in her strong, sturdy fingers. I screamed again as she took both my balls and squeezed them in her rough palm. I thought they were going to burst if she applied even a little bit of extra pressure.
Thankfully, after a few moments, she slid down to maneuver my ready-to-burst erection inside her incredibly hot cunt. She purred, actually she growled, as she impaled herself on my throbbing penis and started working her tight cunt on my dick.
She leaned forward, taking my hands in hers, pinning them, and began thrusting up and down. I noticed the striations in her upper arms as she supported her weight on them. They were lean but vascular; her upper arms swelling and thick veins forming around her forearms. I had never realized how muscular her lean build was. Her shoulders were narrow and thin but quite muscular and wiry. Her skin gleamed and shimmered with sweat, which made her stringy body look even more glamorous.
Beads of sweat rolled off the top of her back, down her veiny neck, and dripped on my face. I was pleasantly surprised how easily she was able to move me along with her. She started riding me hard now, and I felt as if I was on a roller coaster. Her body writhed and strained with each wave, and before I knew it, I was being tossed around. It was awesome having sex with a woman who was so strong, so experienced, thin, and yet so muscular.
I felt wonderful surrendering myself, succumbing to the horny assault of a stronger female as I came, pumping wave after wave of my semen into her dripping pussy. She came hard herself, drenching my penis with a humongous amount of her love juices. She kept at it long after I had ejaculated until it started to hurt me. I pleaded for her to stop, but she wasn't listening. I tried to push her off, but that was easier said than done considering my hands were pinned.
After what seemed like hours, she slowed down to a halt and rolled over, throwing her body on the bed next to me. She was sweaty all over and looked hot as she laid there resting. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back to my wife. | 4 |
121,686 | Here Kitty Kitty | 'Here, Kitty Kitty,' crooned the neighbor again, like he did every night. Katie rolled her eyes while she sat on the back porch, texting a friend about that very thing.
'There's the cat called again by the dope next door.'
Katie had just turned 12, and like most girls her age in the neighborhood, she was bored senseless this summer. The usual trip to the resort with the family had just ended, and now she just had chores, summer sports, and trying to get out of the house to hang with her friends. She had her long black hair, just a few inches down her back, in a ponytail, and its end always flicked around to her nose when she turned her head quickly. She had pale skin that she learned to keep out of the sun, and not a freckle or mole on it. She kept her almost 5-foot frame trim and tidy, participating in most sports from field hockey to climbing, although she always hated swimming.
Tonight, the sun was setting in the front of the house, turning the back garden into blues and purples. The neighbor called again, although lately his voice was funny, like he had a cold or was speaking through a fan. He'd been over a few times, once as part of his job recording their stories about a nearby tragedy for a radio program, which despite staying up to listen to, wasn't used. 'Edited out for time,' he said.
His black cat finally slunk over the other fence, and as usual, took a detour to get a stroke from her. She reached out and did so as it tilted its head for a scratch. 'Ugh,' she grimaced, hand returned all wet, and instinctively raised her hand and smelled. Some sort of incense, not anything really nasty, but still sticky.
'Mr. Doppler, um, Doppler,' she called out. 'I think your cat fell into a pool or something!'
'What's that? I'll get you something to wipe it off with,' he came over to the fence then down to the bottom of his garden, opening his gate and then standing at hers. 'Come here, Katie.'
And she stood up and went to the gate, holding up her hand. 'See?' The cat leaped over the fence behind them and in for its supper.
Mr. Doppler stood about a foot above Katie, and was old, like 40 or something, his dark hair graying at the temples, and an unkempt goatee on his otherwise shaven face. He was nice enough, and had a fit body (Katie had seen him in just shorts on warm days around his garden, but not like she really was looking), but was, well, dopey, and with thick lenses on his glasses, seemed to always be looking dopily at her.
'Yes, it was good of you to come here, Katie. I'll wipe it off.' He had some cloth that he spent some time rubbing her hand with, and she stood there for a couple of minutes, not minding the attention. Some sort of music, a beat like a heart chiming, came from his shirt pocket.
'What's that sound?' she asked, as he rubbed her wrist.
'Oh, must've forgot to turn it off.' He pulled out a device like an old flip mobile, and pressed a button. Out came the call, 'Here, Kitty, Kitty!'
She jumped, hand away, then laughed, and Mr. Doppler laughed as well. 'See, I got so tired of calling the damn cat, I decided to record it.'
'Doesn't sound right, though,' she replied, not quite realizing she'd put her hand back into his, without the cloth, and feeling him massaging her wrist gave her tingles.
'Ah, good girl, you noticed. Has to be distorted to be ambient enough for the cat to hear it far enough away,' he grinned.
Katie nodded and felt a rush of butterflies in her stomach as he complimented her, then disappointment as he let go of her hand and wished her a good night.
A few moments later, she was heading inside, texting her friend about the wet cat and the dopey neighbor.
And, a few minutes later, she was saying good night to her parents and stripping off her clothes, putting on light cotton pajamas, hopping into bed, switching off her light, and then tugging down her pajama bottoms and rubbing her hand on herself until the rush of butterflies returned and flew around her. | 3 |
126,557 | Buffy's Bad Bet | 'It was just a stupid little bet!' Buffy incredulously thought for the umpteenth time as Faith led her into the crowded Bronze. But the dark slayer had taken their little wager very seriously and already taken things MUCH further than she had ever expected. 'Yet here I am, wearing a freakin' collar and being led around in public on a leash! Faith is literally making me her bitch!!'
The tiny slayer blushed as she noticed the numerous strange and lustful looks they were getting. Even in Sunnydale, USA's capital of weirdness, it's kind of unusual to see a beautiful young blonde wearing a collar and a very slutty outfit being meekly led around on a leash by a stern-looking, stunning brunette dressed in an incredibly sexy, black leather dominatrix outfit.
~~~~~a few hours earlier~~~~~
Not wasting any time to assert her newly won dominance over her friend-slash-adversary, Faith insisted on picking out Buffy's outfit for the little victory party she'd already planned at the Bronze. And naturally the wicked brunette made it a personal challenge to put together the sluttiest ensemble she could.
The first item Faith selected made the dark slayer snicker the moment she spotted it: a bright red, very tight, tiny tank top with BITCH written on it in big sparkly golden letters-a quite recent and somewhat unexpected gag gift from Willow.
"Now that shirt just screams you, B," Faith commented with a grin as she held it up in front of her sullen sister slayer.
"I've seen a matching one with SLUT written on it that really suits you, F," Buffy wryly retorted, earning her a chuckle from the unusually good-humored brunette.
Picking the right underwear for the occasion took a bit more time. Buffy looked on annoyed as the dark slayer gleefully dug through her underwear drawer, scattering panties and bras all over her room.
"Cheer up, B. Look on the bright side: I could be making you go commando," Faith teasingly told the scowling blonde. And after dismissing most of B's underwear as too plain, she was actually starting to give that option some serious thought, but then she came across a small paper bag that contained a set of very sexy black lace underwear.
"Nice! And still brand sparkling new. What's up with that?"
After a little prodding, Buffy sighed and explained that she ordered the underwear from a Victoria's Secret catalogue about a month after she'd started dating Riley, but simply hadn't gotten around to wearing it yet. "With all that Initiative stuff we had to deal with, I kinda forgot about it."
"Tsk, you should always make time for romance, B."
"Why, thank you, Dear Abby," Buffy dryly responded. "Even when a crazy scientist and her Frankenstein pet-gone-wild is trying to kill me and my boyfriend is going through some kind of weird 'roid rage?"
"Especially then," Faith over-earnestly said, earning her a small smile from the blonde, which she cheerfully returned. Looking at the sexy underwear and then back at Buffy, the dark slayer's dazzling smile suddenly turned decidedly mischievous. "Who knows, maybe tonight's the night that soldier boy will finally get to see you wear this," she muttered under her breath.
Buffy's slayer hearing picked up on that and she shot the younger slayer a suspicious look. 'What the Hell kinda party does she plan on throwing? It's at the Bronze and you can't get much more public than that, so she can't be planning anything too crazy... right?' she anxiously tried to reassure herself.
Seemingly unaware of the unease her offhand remark had caused, Faith was once again digging through Buffy's closet for an appropriately slutty skirt for her new slave girl. Without much success it seemed, because the dark slayer suddenly declared that none of these did it for her. "But, luckily, I remember seeing a wicked lil skirt back home in your old closet that's pretty much perfect."
"What? Are you blind? There are already like four gorgeous mini skirts hanging right there in front of you!" Buffy pointed out.
Faith pursed her lips as she shot another glance at the cute little skirts and stubbornly shook her head. "Nah, those won't do, I'm looking for something shorter and sexier."
"Like what? A freakin' BELT?" the exasperated blonde called out.
"Not a bad idea, B, let's keep that as a backup plan in case that skirt at Casa del Summers doesn't pan out," Faith grinned.
"Seriously? You want us to go halfway around town just to make me wear a skirt that's a tad shorter and sluttier?"
Faith just smiled innocently and shrugged. "Hey, you gotta be willing to put in some effort if ya wanna look good, right? Besides, I'm in charge, so whatever I say goes."
"You're seriously quoting Cordelia Chase now?" Grumbling to herself, Buffy helped Faith pack up the clothes she'd already selected and followed the infuriating brunette out the door.
For the finishing touch, Faith brought along a gorgeous pair of black leather thigh-high boots with stiletto heels for her to wear. Buffy really loved these boots, but knew that in combination with that slutty top and a mini skirt she could easily be mistaken for a hooker. 'Which is probably Faith's intent,' she figured with a sense of foreboding.
***************************************************************************
As Buffy had feared, the sexy little skirt that Faith had in mind turned out to be her former favorite mini skirt, which had shrunk to indecent proportions after an unfortunate laundry mishap. That's why she left it at home when she moved into the dorms. Sure, she liked dressing sexy, but that skirt didn't even completely cover her butt anymore!
"Oh, c'mon! I can't wear that!" Buffy protested. "I'll be arrested for public indecency!"
"Nah, once it gets dark there's never a cop to be found in Sunnydale."
That didn't exactly make Buffy feel much better about walking around in public with her ass hanging out, but it was pretty obvious that Faith wouldn't change her mind about the skirt, at least not without some serious begging. 'And I'm NOT gonna give her the satisfaction of making me beg.'
As if wanting to dress her up like a freakin' prostitute wasn't twisted enough already, Faith then casually informed her that she was gonna stay and watch while Buffy changed into her slutwear.
"I meant clubwear ... Heh. Sorry, B."
Now normally Buffy wouldn't consider changing clothes in front of her sister slayer to be such a big deal, but the shift in power between them had added a strong sexual vibe to the situation which made the whole nakedness part of it a tad uncomfortable.However, she didn't want to be a stick in the mud and welsh on their bet, so she grudgingly obeyed the dark slayer's cheerful demand to see her in the buff.
But, as a small act of rebellion, Buffy kept her back to the brunette while taking her clothes off. Unfortunately, this meant having to endure a lot of mocking throughout her disrobing, including some inappropriate comments about her "cute little bubble butt" the moment she took down her panties. Still, it was worth it to deny Faith the chance to ogle her goodies; she definitely didn't want the brunette seeing her snatch and discover the special grooming job she'd done after the Dracula affair.
Completely naked now, Buffy took a moment to try and figure out how to swiftly dress in the "clubwear" Faith had selected for her without flashing the avidly watching brunette any of her naughty parts. She stiffened when she suddenly sensed the dark slayer approaching her from behind. 'Uh-oh... knowing Faith, she could be planning anything from tickling my sides to sticking a finger up my ass.'
But what she didn't expect was for the other girl to put a collar around her neck.
"What the fuck, Faith?!" Buffy exclaimed as she swiftly turned to confront the impudent brunette, remembering just in time to place her arm in front of her breasts and a hand in front of her slit.
"You lost our bet, so you have to be my obedient little slave girl for the next 48 hours, remember?" Faith explained with a smirk. "And slave girls should wear a collar."
Buffy's mouth dropped open at the other girl's unbelievable audacity. Trying hard to think of the right words to properly express her outrage, the only thing she could come up with at the moment was, "What?! Are you freaking KIDDING me?!"
"Oh relax, sweet-cheeks. It's no biggie," Faith waved away the blonde's outrage. "There are plenty of cute Goth girls who wear collars as a fashion statement, so you won't even stand out much."
"Oh really, ya think so? 'Cause last time I checked, I'm like the freaking opposite of Goth!" Catching sight of herself in the mirror, Buffy discovered that not only had Faith the nerve to fit her with a collar, it even had an ownership tag hanging from one of its four metal rings. Just like a dog! Her indignation exceeding her modesty, the irate blonde moved her arm away from her boobs and grabbed the weirdly shaped, shiny tag, pulling it closer to her eyes. 'What the F-it says "Buffy"?!'
"It has my name on it!" she yelped wide-eyed. "And on the other side it says... "Property of Faith"?! You got me a personalized dog collar declaring me your property?! What the HELL, Faith?!?!"
"Well, you ARE pretty much my bitch now, B," Faith grinned, obviously enjoying her time in charge to its fullest. "And you shouldn't have made the bet if you didn't want to be my pet."
'OK, I really should be kicking her ass right about now,' Buffy thought to herself as she glared at the infuriating smirking brunette. 'But... I don't know... I guess the bitch does have a point... I did promise to be her slave for two days if I lost the bet we made... And Giles always told me that it's very important for a Slayer to always stay true to her word, even when dealing with the demonic underworld, which I guess includes Faith as well. So I suppose I actually have to honor this stupid bet... SHIT!! What was I thinking?!'
Pouting adorably, Buffy shifted her glare from Faith to the degrading dog tag again. "You certainly managed to get this done pretty damn fast."
"Bought it and had it engraved right after we made the bet," Faith smugly declared.
"Wow, aren't you little Miss Confidence all of a sudden... And why exactly is this tag in the form of a pentagram?" Buffy questioned as she suddenly recognized the tag's odd shape.
"This is Sunnydale," Faith said with a shrug, knowing those three words basically explain anything weird in this town, "they even sell pentagram shaped cereal in the supermarkets. And it seemed kinda fitting considering the supernatural theme of our bet... Alas, they didn't have one shaped like a stake."
Suddenly noticing that the brunette was checking out her bare boobies, Buffy let go of the tag and quickly placed her arm across her stiff pink nipples again, but this time Faith wasn't gonna let the other girl's modesty ruin her fun. "Nuh-uh, B, no more covering up your naughty Buffy bits. Seeing you act all shy was fun at first, but now I wanna inspect the goodies I won with our little bet."
Buffy hesitated... Part of her, probably her common sense, was telling her that she should simply scoff at the brunette's crude demand and get dressed as quickly as she could, but another more forceful voice (her sense of honor perhaps?) insisted that she had to keep her word and therefore do what Faith tells her to, no matter how stupid or twisted it may be.
'Oh what the Hell,' Buffy decided, fed up with agonizing about a bit of nudity. 'I'll just show Voyeur-girl my boobs again and hopefully that'll do.'
Following intent with action, Buffy lowered her right arm to her side, revealing her pink-tipped titties once again to the brunette's eager eyes. "OK, so here they are again. Satisfied?"
"Uhm, no. I want the full Buffy, not just your tits-nice as they are."
"Oh, c'mon!" Buffy pouted, sending her friend a pleading look. "Isn't this enough for now? You've seen me naked before."
"Yeah, exactly... You know that I've occasionally peeked at you in the shower and already seen that the carpet matches the drapes, so why the sudden modesty, B?"
'Occasionally peeked at me? All that was missing were a pair of opera glasses and a subscription to Nude Buffy Daily,' the blonde wryly considered, remembering the long lustful looks the bi-curious brunette would direct at her during their showers after slayer practice. Being proud of her well-trained, tight sexy form, she never really minded Faith's suggestive stares and casual flirting, though. Especially since the other slayer's admiring looks would always result in a pleasant tingling sensation in her lower belly. Truth be told, she'd snuck some peeks at the Bostonian babe's fabulous body as well.
But Buffy had a special reason to be feeling shy right now, something she knew Faith would tease her mercilessly with if she found out. "Uh... I just think this situation is awkward enough as it is without rating it up from R to NC-17."
"Oh, poor, sweet, naïve B," Faith chuckled. "You made a bet with me where the loser becomes the winner's SLAVE GIRL for 48 hours, and you lost big time! What did ya think was gonna happen? Now I know that if you had won, you'd probably have me doing your laundry or something equally lame. But with me as the winner: slave girl equals lots of NC-17 fun-that's pretty much a given."
'She's right, well except about me losing "big time". But what DID I think was gonna happen? Well, I thought I'd beat her, of course, but still... why make that stupid bet in the first place?!' Buffy wondered, once again pondering her folly. 'Because you were goaded into it, you dumb bitch,' she wryly answered her own question.But, as it turned out, our "impartial" referee looked at it a bit differently and wasted little time in declaring Faith the victor. Because, as she so "logically" explained: "The bet's about who the best Vampire Slayer is, and Faith slayed six more vampires than you. So... I'm afraid that means you're gonna have to be Faith's bitch for the next 48 hours, Buffy."
Though trying to appear sad about this, the excitement in Willow's voice as she declared me Faith's bitch was pretty darn obvious, and erased whatever doubt I had left that my once trusty BFF just royally screwed me over. Not only did she turn out to be about as unbiased a judge as a turkey doing a report on Thanksgiving, but I'm also fairly sure it's her and not Faith who came up with the idea of this kinky little wager.
Despite the redhead's repeated reassurances that we're "A-OK", Willow's obviously still harboring plenty of resentment about my somewhat undiplomatic opinion concerning her level of gayness. She probably thinks I'm homophobic or something. And since Will is well aware of Faith's crush on me, tricking me into becoming my sister slayer's slave girl must've seemed like a pretty good way to get back at me.
The witch's parting words as an impatient Faith practically dragged me to my dorm room pretty much confirmed this, "Now I'm not sure what Faith has planned, Buffy, but if she ends up getting handsy with you, then just think of it as a bit of college experimentation."
Replaying it all over in her head, Buffy still couldn't quite figure out how she'd let herself get baited so easily. 'Part of me suspected I was being set up pretty much from the start, so why--'
"Hello? Earth to Buffy?" Faith's mocking voice interrupted her contemplations. "We don't have all night, B: there's a party waiting for us at the Bronze. And besides, this ain't rocket science: ya lost the bet making you my slave girl, so when I say I wanna see your naughty Buffy bits, you go ahead and flash me your tits AND your pussy-pronto!"
Biting her bottom lip, Buffy desperately tried to think of something to spare herself this latest humiliation, but she couldn't think of anything. In fact, the only thought that appeared in her head was that annoyingly insistent voice, which kept reminding her, 'You have to keep your word.'
Unable to think of a good excuse to get out of this, Buffy sighed in defeat and allowed the hand that had been shielding her snatch to drop to her side, surrendering her final vestige of modesty to her victor.
Buffy inwardly cringed when she saw a look of utter delight appear on Faith's face as the dark slayer discovered why she had been so reluctant to reveal her pussy: her golden pubes had been neatly shaped to form a crucifix-something she'd come up with after Count Dracula had seduced her with some vampire mind-control mojo.
"Oh, B, so you've done a bit of landscaping," Faith snickered as she stared at the blushing blonde's snatch with rapt fascination. "That's just... priceless."
Buffy's eyes widened when Faith suddenly squatted down in front of her with her face only inches away from her pussy, and let out a tiny gasp when the bold brunette tenderly petted her pubes.
"Mmmm, soft," Faith purred in a way that made her legs quiver. "So tell me, my sweet little slave girl," the dark slayer huskily questioned, "did you get this 'do for that good Christian boy-toy you're dating, or is it meant for lil ole me?"
"Uhh neither," Buffy replied, licking her suddenly dry lips as she stared down at the beautiful brunette's smiling face, so very close to her pussy, breathlessly wondering if Faith was gonna do anything else besides pet it. "It's sort of meant as a last line of defense against horny vamps."
'She does have a very nice laugh,' Buffy absently noted as the brunette's delighted laughter filled the room.
"I wonder if this would actually work?" Faith speculated out loud while tenderly tracing the blonde's cross-shaped pubes with her index finger.
Buffy let out another gasp as she suddenly felt Faith's finger rub across her clit, triggering a tiny explosion of pleasure from the swollen little nerve-bundle. 'OH!!! Sweet Holy Mother of Muppets!! I'm not actually enjoying this, am I?!' she thought mortified.
Trying hard to hide her growing arousal from her sister slayer's supernatural senses, Buffy fixed an annoyed glare on her face and called out, "OK, so you've seen my tits AND my pussy-are ya happy now?"
"Almost, but I think there's still some room for improvement," Faith answered; a blissful smile on her face as she gracefully rose up and slowly circled around her longtime crush-so disappointedly unapproachable in the past but oh so deliciously at her mercy in the present.
"Whenever I'm inspecting you, B, I want you to pose for me like a proper slave girl, so there'll be no doubt who owns that cute lil bubble butt," the brunette cheerfully explained while affectionately slapping aforementioned ass, eliciting an outraged yelp from the naked blonde.
"You're REALLY pushing it here, Faith," Buffy growled through clenched teeth, although her menacing expression kinda lost its impact when she childishly rubbed her tender backside with both hands.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet, B," Faith responded with a wicked grin. "Oh, and from now on you should start calling me Ma'am or Mistress." Her grin grew bigger upon seeing Buffy's adorable expression of disbelief.
"Now let's teach you the standard "slave girl standing for inspection" pose..." The implication that there were more "slave poses" to be learned worried Buffy, as did the sudden realization how much thought and preparation Faith had obviously put into this stupid slave girl bet. "Fold your hands behind your neck and place your feet further apart... No, a lot further than that-I wanna see you spread wide, B."
'Have. To. Keep. My. Word.' Buffy once again thought as she spread her legs so far that her pussy-lips spread open as well, which she knew was what Faith wanted to see.
"That's a good girl," Faith patronizingly praised while hungrily eyeing her sister slayer's golden snatch, taking a good long moment to savor this wonderful sight before sliding her gaze upwards across the tiny blonde's tight abs to those well-formed firm B-cups capped with the cutest looking pink nips she'd ever seen.
"Now arch your back and stick out those perky tits for me," Faith excitedly commanded next.
Buffy blushingly obeyed, which earned her a satisfied "Atta girl," from her "Mistress".
"THIS is how you're gonna present yourself from now on whenever I wanna inspect you, B," Faith seductively whispered in her slave girl's ear while once again circling her prey like a horny wolf.
Sensing the other girl's rising lust, as well as her own, Buffy swallowed nervously before bravely replying, "From now till about 47 hours later when this dumb bet is over, you mean. After that, I'll present my foot to your ass whenever you wanna "inspect me"."
"We'll see," the brunette chuckled from behind her.
'What's that suppose to mean,' Buffy somewhat suspiciously wondered. "Uhm, excuse me... "Ma'am", but you do realize there is no way in Hell I'm gonna be your freakin' slave girl for a second longer than the agreed upon time, do you?"
"Oh, I dunno, B," Faith answered, smiling seductively as she once again faced the now uncertain looking blonde. "Who knows what'll happen in the next two days... perhaps you'll enjoy being my obedient little slave girl so much that you don't want it to end."
"Wha-you think I enjoy letting you order me around and humiliate me?!" Buffy replied, trying to sound outraged at the mere notion of it.
"We're just getting started, B: the real fun hasn't even begun," the dark slayer chuckled in response. "Plenty of time to change your mind... Besides, judging from the way those cute pink nips have been saluting me since ya got naked, I'd say you're not hating this as much as you pretend... Ain't that right, my lovely slayer slave?" Faith huskily questioned while impishly tweaking Buffy's stiff nipples.
"No! They're just... really sensitive to the cold," Buffy lamely denied while instinctively lowering her hands to cover her tender teats, trying very hard to hide that she's indeed turned on already. 'But I'm sure it's just the whole being naked thing that's getting me aroused! NOT the Faith ordering me around part-it... it just can't be that?!'
"I didn't say you could move your hands!" Faith admonished her friend with a stern expression on her face as she swiftly delivered a couple of hard spanks unto the blonde's cute ass, eliciting an adorable little yelp from the petite college girl. It also made Buffy's hands swiftly migrate down to her blushing backside again.
"Now you better get back in the proper position, slave girl," the brunette haughtily demanded, smiling impishly as she wagged her finger at the glaring blonde. "Or you'll be getting a proper spanking from me."
To soothe her bruised pride, Buffy tried to summon the satisfying mental imagery of her giving Faith the much deserved ass-kicking of a lifetime, but for some reason the mental picture that came to mind instead was of herself lying bare-assed naked across the dark slayer's lap getting the spanking of a lifetime.
Not wanting to give her "Mistress" any excuse to make that disconcerting mental image come true, Buffy let out a sigh and obediently folded her hands behind her neck again while thrusting out her tits. Catching the look of triumph in Faith's eyes, the blonde's infamous pout made a reappearance. 'I can't believe the kind of dumb, twisted stuff I'm forced to do here! I've never felt more humiliated! Stupid bet!!Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, followed by Dawn's voice calling out, "Hey, Faith, can Janice and I come in? We wanna run something by you."
Looking at Faith with a wide-eyed, panicky expression, Buffy's desperate hope that the brunette wouldn't be so mean as to reveal her humiliating slave girl status to her bratty kid sister and her equally bratty friend Janice was quickly dashed when she caught the look of wicked delight on the dark slayer's beautiful face.
Despite having promised herself earlier that she wouldn't plead for leniency, Buffy frantically shook her head while softly mouthing, "Please, no!"
Unfortunately, the only noticeable effect her pathetic plea for mercy had on the mischievous brunette was that it made her insufferable smirk grow even bigger.
"Faith?" When Dawn knocked again, Buffy was ready to offer the dark slayer to go down on her right then and there if only she'd tell Dawn and her friend to skedaddle, but as she opened her mouth to make this mortifying proposal, it was already too late.
"Sure, come on in, girls!" Faith gleefully called out. | 3 |
Subsets and Splits