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Wife gangbang fantasy/A dangerous reality
Wife gangbang fantasy/A dangerous reality · Non Consent · As usual I was surfing the net
I have seen a small advt. blinking on the screen
It was an intresting one for me
"Fantasise about seeing your wife or girlfriend GANGBANGED?
Do you want to turn your fantasy into reality?
If YES, contact us for more details on e mail address etc, etc "
My heart began beating faster and my cock became stiffer as I re-read the massage. At first I thought that it must be some kid messing about, then I realised that my fingers were typing the address into an e-mail document.
"It'll be a laugh." I thought, as I typed 'Interested. Send details.'
"It'll be a turn on for him to consider banging my wife."
I sent the e-mail never thinking that they were serious or even lived in the UK anyhow.
After about 10 minutes of surfing even darker porn sites, a message 'pinged' on screen. I checked my account to see that the message was from the person that I had replied to.
It read?
We may be interested in your wife but need more details. Send by return.
I smiled and eagerly replied?
Andrea, 27, slim, no kids, 5 foot 6 inches, brown hair and blue eyes and I think she is attractive. I pressed send.
After two or three minutes I had another reply.
Send a picture and her sexual preferences. You could be in business
My heart gave a jump as I looked through my documents for something suitable. My cock was stiffening as I found a picture of her from a wedding we attended earlier in the year. She was wearing a hat and a light coloured dress that emphasised her curves. She looked gorgeous.
"Picture attached. Loves oral (giving and receiving), prefers 'doggy style', enjoys wearing sexy lingerie. Not very vocal but is very orgasmic." I exaggerated about the oral sex, but it was only a bit of fun.
I pressed send, and waited. About five minutes later I had the following reply?
She looks good. What is her bra size? Is she trimmed or shaven? Forward this information only if you are serious.
I wasn't really serious but I was getting very turned on 'talking' about my wife to a stranger.
I sent them the following reply anyhow.
She likes to wear sexy underwear (black or white), usually see-thru and lacy. Also likes (black) hold up stockings. She is a 34B bra size and neatly trimmed.
It gave me a real thrill, and my cock was close to bursting point, as I gave out her most personal details.
Within a minute the next message arrived.
Excellent. Where do you live? We are in Essex.
Without thinking I re posted immediately, Oxfordshire. I was surprised that he/they lived so close. I imagined they would have been based overseas for some reason. The next message they sent had an attachment with the following message.
Is this how you want to see your wife?
I quickly opened the attachment. After about a minute of downloading, it showed a woman on her back surrounded by five men that were mauling her body. Her clothes were being ripped off, and her knickers had been pulled to one side exposing a very hairy bush. A black man was kneeling between her thighs fucking her as she sucked another man at the other end.
It was highly erotic.
I masturbated while I looked at the picture imagining it was Andrea.
Yes I'd love to see her look like that. I e-mailed back, cock in hand.
Seconds later another message arrived that shook me to the core.
Send your mobile telephone number so we can make this happen.
Oh my God!" I thought, "These people are serious." Until that moment I had thought it was just a bit of fun ? a fantasy.
I signed out of my e-mail and turned the computer off. I was amazed and shocked that they were this serious and might actually have gone through with it.
I thought no more about it until one morning the following week when I was leaving for work. I found a message stuck onto my car windscreen asking me to call a mobile phone number. I didn't recognise it so waited until I got to work to call. I closed my office door and dialled.
The phone was answered with a harsh, Yes.
Err hello you left me a message to call you I said.
So you thought e-mail would keep you anonymous did you? The voice grunted.
I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean, I replied puzzled.
You e-mailed me last Friday about your wife ?Andrea. She wears nice black lacy underwear, 34b tits and is nice and trimmed. You told me she likes sucking and fucking. The voice went on.
Suddenly I went very pale and felt my legs go weak as my mouth dried up. I took a gulp from my coffee cup and composed myself.
Err yes I know what you're talking about now. I whispered.
I'm in your company car park. A silver VW Golf on the third floor. I want to see you NOW! Don't keep me waiting he demanded and the phone went dead.
I got up from my chair and told my secretary that I was just nipping out for a couple of minutes. I slowly walked into the car park and climbed the stairs to the third floor. It was enclosed from the summer sun and very dark as I scoured the vehicles looking for the silver Golf. Suddenly a car flashed its headlights at me and I turned around. It was 'Him'. I walked over to the car. The passenger car door was already open. The driver was a big man, over six feet tall with a heavy muscle-bound build, shaved head and goatee beard. His arms were covered in Celtic tattoos.
"How did you know where I worked?" I whimpered.
He turned to me menacingly, I followed you from home. When you joined my site you gave me your real address ? idiot! Now don't piss me off unless you want to be found at the bottom of the canal. It was a mistake fucking me about on Friday.
Shaking, I realised that this man was very serious and if I did not co-operate fully with him he would carry out his threat. OK what do you want I asked him.
We want your wife. He replied casually.
I wasn't serious," I told him, "I'm not sure she would want to take part, I continued nervously.
Look pal, that's not how it is." He glared at me, "You offered her to us ? we want her. It's as simple as that. If she puts up a fight, well that just adds to our fun! You can watch if you want to, with, or without her knowing you're there. Its going to happen anyway, so I don't give a shit if you want to be there or not anymore.
My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to burst.
"We've got a lock up place in London were we hold our parties," he laughed, "we even have a special room for visitors ? twats like you that like watching their wives getting fucked by real men."
What do you want from me? I asked slightly warming to his plan.
I need the alarm code of her car, all of her regular car journeys and I want to know when she is on her period as we don't want to go to all this trouble when she's on. He instructed.
She's just finished her period I replied a bit too over eagerly, then I remembered what I was actually telling him.
Good, e-mail her car details tonight and I'll be in touch, he told me as he ushered me away.
I walked away from his car looking very nervous but I knew I had to get him the information otherwise I would end up with a good kicking and they would probably rape Andrea anyway.
I felt very uneasy for the rest of the day and at about half past two I told my secretary that I felt unwell and was going home.
You don't look too well Rob, she replied hardly looking up from her VDU screen.
Once I got home I looked through the documents for Andrea's car and finally found the alarm code. I sent all of the information along with her movements for the following week by e-mail immediately.
I checked my messages later that night. They replied at 8.30.
"It will happen tomorrow. Be at the address below for about 10.30 if you want to watch.
I checked the address on Routefinder. It appeared to be a scrap yard in SE London.
I rang my secretary and told her that I would not be in for the rest of the week, as I still felt unwell, which was actually the truth.
I was already awake when the alarm buzzed at 7am. I showered and had breakfast as usual. Before I left the house at 7.45, I joined Andrea in our bedroom.
"You okay?" I asked nervously, "Busy day at work?"
My wife was getting dressed, a silky black thong, black see ?thru bra, natural tights, a black and white flowing summer dress and a pair of black high-heeled shoes, she seemed confused at my questioning.
"Yes to both questions," she cocked her left eye at me, "Why?"
"Oh?you know, just ?you looked?.never mind. I'll see you tonight." I smiled and blew her a kiss.
It took nearly two hours to find the address that I had been given. It was a scrapyard in a run down part of Southeast London. I slowly drove my car along the pot-holed road until I came to a cabin next to a metal gate. An old man hobbled to the side window.
I wound it down. "You're keen," he cackled through broken discoloured teeth, "park behind there and follow me."
As I drove behind the cabin two huge German Shepherd dogs began barking and straining at their leashes. I parked next to a BMW, Merc and a Jeep Cherokee.
The old man led me passed the dogs to the side door of a large pre-fabricated hanger.
Inside was a small, unlit room with a tiny table. There was a flask of coffee, plastic cups and a case of cheap beer on top. Standing in the far corner were 3 well-dressed Japanese businessmen nervously looking at me. We nodded 'hello'.
You can watch from there, the old man said pointing to the opposite wall.
There were six spy holes drilled through the brick wall. Each about an inch round, I tentatively looked through a peephole into a stark room.
All I could see was an old sofa a dirty mattress and a strip light.
My heart was racing now as my stomach turned. I couldn't believe what I was doing. What had started out as a wank fantasy was now turning into reality and my wife was going to be gang-banged in front of an audience. I felt nauseous as I took a swig of the beer that I had just been handed.
The door opened again. "We're not too late are we, George?" A small fat Jewish looking man called out, as his taller friend immediately poured them two coffees from the flask.
Looking at his watch the old man replied, "No, they'll be here in a minute, so you'd better get into your positions."
George ushered us to the peepholes, before telling us with a chuckle, "There's plenty of Kleenex on the table, so make sure you use them. I'm sick of having to wash this fucking place after you lot have been in here!"
As soon as I put my eye to the hole the door in the other room burst open and Andrea was dragged in by the man in the VW Golf and another tall, body builder type. A pillowcase was over her head and her hands were fastened with some cord. She was pushed face down onto the sofa making her dress ride up her legs. I could see that her tights had already been ripped at the crotch. My stomach turned over again but my cock ached for relief ? it was so hard. Andrea was sobbing as they pulled the hood from her head. One of the guys undid her wrist fastenings as she now sat, shaking, facing them. Andrea tried to stand up but was pushed back down.
"Sit still, we'll be back in a minute." The older guy grunted, then the two men left the room.
A couple of minutes went by, while Andrea regained some composure. She stood up and walked around a little bit, her dress clinging to her feminine curves. Then she tried to open the door, but it was locked from the outside.
Andrea began banging on the door, "Let me out, let me out. PLEASE! Let me out!"
Suddenly the door was flung open, knocking her back into the room. Five men rushed in four only wearing shorts or track bottoms and old George who had a camcorder. Andrea took a step back as the four men surrounded her dropping their pants at the same time. As George locked the door the fat Jewish man shouted, "Fantastic!" He nudged his friend, who was standing next to me, "The big black lad is Joel. Wait until you see his cock; it's fucking enormous. The big lad with tattoos is Lenny, he organises these things." Then he whispered, "He's fucking evil." He picked up his voice again when the second black man grabbed Andrea's tits, "I think he's called Shola. I've only seen him once before. Ha, ha." He chuckled, "He likes fucking them up the arse."
Andrea slapped his hand away but he wasn't going to be deterred that easily.
The Jewish man described the characters as if they were actors in a film, not professional rapists. "I've never seen the Asian boy before, but he looks like he's got a big dick too."
"The girl looks nice," he continued, "A bit small but looks like she'll put up a fight!"
"Fucking Hell!" I thought, "What have I done?"
He was right, Joel had an exceptionally large cock dangling between his legs. It must have been over 10 inches long.
I was now very nervous but also very turned on. My own erection was straining inside my trousers. The men started pushing Andrea from one to another getting more and more forceful with every push.
Get off me! You bastards, leave me alone! she screamed at them, which only made them laugh.
The black man with the scar (Shola) grabbed her from behind and started to grope her tits through her thin dress. The Asian man pulled her dress up, exposing her torn tights and tiny thong.
George was moving between them with his camera.
Lenny grabbed her dress too and between them they pulled it over her head and off. Andrea was spitting at them as she furiously tried to fight them off.
Her dress was thrown into the corner of the room leaving my wife standing in her black bra, thong, torn tights and high-heeled shoes.
The men were moving around her like hyenas at a carcass. Lenny suddenly grabbed the waistband of her tights to try and pull them down only for Andrea to grab them herself in an attempt to keep them up. As she held onto her tights, the Asian guy released the clip of her bra, Joel pulled it off exposing her firm tits and large pink nipples. The men around me all cheered as the others started to grope and fondle her naked breasts. She raised her arms to protect her swinging tits. Lenny took advantage and pulled her tights and knickers down to her ankles, exposing her neatly trimmed pubes for the first time and making it difficult for her to move.
Get off me, get off me! she shouted, but her pleas fell on deaf ears, as four pairs of hands groped and slapped her naked flesh.
Andrea was then pushed down onto the middle of the sofa. Lenny and Joel sat next to her. Joel held her wrists with one hand and kissed her hard on the lips as he groped her tits, his massive cock swinging like a baseball bat.
Get rid of her knickers and open her legs! Lenny told his friends as he began suckling on her left tit as his cock slapped against her belly.
Shola and the Asian guy grabbed a shoe each, throwing them over their shoulders. Andrea was still struggling to keep her thighs together as her torn tights and black thong were dragged from her ankles leaving her completely naked.
She looks fucking well tight boys," The Jewish man announced, "They'll enjoy themselves with this posh bitch." I turned to see that he already had his trousers around his ankles and was wanking his long thin cock.
The Asian man sniffed the gusset of Andrea's silky black panties, He, he, he, she smells good. He laughed as he passed the panties to
Joel, who agreed.
Andrea tried kicking and punching, as all four men descended on her like animals. It was no good; they totally overpowered her. Lenny grabbed her head and tried to make her suck his thick cock, but she kept her mouth shut, as Joel and the Asian guy finally pulled her legs apart.
One of the Japanese men gasped as her neatly trimmed cunt glistened with copious amounts of her 'love-juice'.
"Oh man!" Shola laughed as he jammed two long black fingers into her soaking pussy. "Have you seen how fucking wet she is?" He laughed as the others moved their positions so that they could see him easily fingering my slim white wife.
Her eyes were tightly closed and she was grimacing as Shola continued his double finger fucking. Suddenly Andrea opened her mouth for air, only for Lenny to try and force his fat cock in. She shook her head as his purple knobhead went in, making sure it fell out again. Lenny grabbed a handful of hair making her scream, then forcing her mouth back onto his cock, "That's better, now suck it." Andrea tried not to, but his hand forced her head up and down on his cock.
"Come on man," I heard someone say, " let's get her fucked, my balls are aching."
"Okay, get her ready!" Lenny laughed as he let go of her hair.
My wife was picked up turned over and forced over the arm of the sofa, her arse sticking up in the air. The youngest black man, Shola, positioned himself at her arse end and the Asian man sat on the sofa positioning himself at her head.
Andrea was squirming and wriggling, as the two other men held her still so the first two could fuck her pussy and mouth.
I watched with awe. I couldn't stop myself. Just like the others at the peepholes; I dropped my trousers and pants to my ankles and masturbated.
The black man pulled her thighs apart and fingered her dripping fanny again before pushing his thick black cock against her tight pink hole.
No, No, No, she pleaded as he grabbed her hips and began slowly feeding it inside her. His feet and knees kept her legs stretched apart, but her cunt was so wet it offered no resistance at all to his big black cock.
He kept on pushing, as Lenny and Joel held her arms behind her back. The Asian man grabbed his brown cock with one hand and her head with the other, and told her to, Suck! Suck it Whitey!
Andrea very reluctantly opened her mouth and took maybe an inch of his cock in her mouth, Fucking suck it properly rich bitch! he told her and pushed the back of her head onto his cock forcing it right into her mouth until she gagged on it.
That's more like it, now suck it properly. he told her as he grabbed her tits, twisting a nipple between his fingers.
George was still moving around the sofa with his camera recording all the gory details of my wife's debasement.
The other two men were waiting eagerly for their fellow rapists to finish so they could take their turn with my wife.
The Asian man came first, holding the back of Andrea's head as he fucked her mouth, shooting his thick warm salty cum into her mouth. As he withdrew Andrea spat it out onto the sofa.
D$on't you like spunk? he asked her.
No I fucking don't," she shouted back as Shola continued fucking her.
Shame. You're going to have lots more before we finish with you, so you'd better get used to it, he laughed.
As the Asian man moved off the sofa Lenny let go of her arm and replaced him. He aimed his long gnarly erection at Andrea's mouth. She turned her head and looked away.
He grabbed her hair and pulled her face back toward him, Suck it now, and suck it properly if you know what's good for you.
Andrea looked up at him with hatred in her eyes as she reluctantly put his cock in her mouth and started to suck.
The black man inside her vagina was getting faster and faster. As he gripped her hips hard she closed her eyes and grimaced. What she had been dreading happened, he shot load after load of hot black spunk deep inside her.
I came all over the wall in front of me as Shola took his cock out of her pulsating cunt and rubbed his spunky bell-end around her fanny lips.
I was disgusted with myself as I watched Joel move behind her waving his monster cock, Is she tight? He asked his friend.
Fuck me she was, but she wont be in a moment, Shola sniggered.
Joel asked the Asian guy to hold her still for him. The man grabbed her waist and pulled her legs wide apart again.
Shola's spunk dripped down her thighs as he slid his hand between her legs to open her fanny lips ready for Joel's monster cock.
I was amazed when I looked up to see Andrea no longer being repulsed by Lenny. She was actually tickling his hairy balls as she sensually licked his blue veined shaft, in a way that she'd never done for me.
The tattooed black man nudged his cock against her well-fucked fanny. It looked too big for her as he pressed it against the small hole. Andrea's eyes opened wide as he pushed the golf ball sized knob passed her labia and into her love tunnel. Shaking her head she pulled Lennys' cock from her mouth, No stop! Stop! I cant take it you'll rip me apart! she squealed as she gripped the cock in her hand.
Joel kept on pushing as it slowly disappeared inside her once tight fanny.
Please stop, please no! Andrea screamed.
She was now biting her lip and gripping the cushion of the sofa as Joel's cock began filling her cunt like never before. Lenny was furiously rubbing his own cock until he came all over her face, leaving thick white spunk dripping from her eyebrows, nose and mouth.
Joel had got all but about two inches of his cock inside her, I think I can feel the bottom of her belly, he laughed. Then he started thrusting inside her, long strokes, slowly at first but then faster and faster. He thrust his glistening black cock deeper and deeper inside her until after a couple of minutes she had taken his full length. As his balls banged against her he said, See you could take it! Couldn't you Whitey?"
Andrea couldn't answer. She just made grunting noises as she clung onto the sofa, as Joel made her tiny body shake. These grunts had changed from earlier.
I think she's enjoying it, Joel shouted to Lenny who was sitting in front of Andrea stroking his cock back to life.
Lenny looked into her face, Fuck me I think the dirty bitch is, as well.
Look at her tits, said the Asian man. They were swaying because she was being fucked on all fours, but her nipples were now erect, puffed up and very stiff.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Here was my loving wife being gang raped and she was actually starting to enjoy it.
I heard a noise from my left and turned to see two of the Japanese men wanking each other's cocks, as they watched Joel pounding away at my wife. Stretching her cunt more and more with every long stroke of his amazing black cock.
Andrea began groaning loudly with every long stroke.
She had never been very vocal in bed, much to my disappointment, only soft moaning or purring when she orgasmed, but this black man was making her groan with primal pleasure.
Then, starting with a whisper, "Yes, yes. What are you doing to me? Yes, yes YES! AAAAAARRRRGGGH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" She screamed, as an orgasm seemed to blow her head off.
My cock and heart ached ? this was exactly how I'd dreamed she should behave with me!
Andreas mouth was hanging open and her eyes were like saucers when Joel finally flung his head back and thrust even deeper inside my young wife's stretched cunt one last time, making Andrea gasp long and loud.
Joel was shaking as he emptied his massive testicles inside her hot pussy. After a few seconds he slowly withdrew his long shiny cock from her once tight pink pussy. Andrea lay trembling over the arm of the sofa, as enough spunk to have filled an eggcup started to gush out of her fanny and run down her legs.
I too had cum again and my cock was still as hard as ever. This was the most erotic, exciting thing I had ever seen; even on the Internet. Especially now that she was enjoying it.
It was now a free for all as she was pulled back onto the sofa. The Asian guy and Lenny took turns in fucking her while she sucked Joel and Shola's black cocks. Each one ejaculated inside her. Her blowjobs were amazing. Andrea seemed insatiable as she sucked and licked their liquorice pipes.
"Ha, ha, ha!" The Jewish man laughed, "I love seeing their wedding rings when they've got their little white hands wrapped around a black cock! It makes you wonder what their husbands must think, don't you?" He looked at me and smiled. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to wanking for a third time.
At one stage immediately after sucking Joel's monster black cock and swallowing his spunk she begged him, "Let me suck you again."
"What's that Whitey? You like my black cock don't you?" Joel asked her as he slapped her face with his spunky cock, "You can't get enough of it can you?"
"No." She whispered again.
"What?" He laughed as he smeared his cock through the spunk on her face.
"YES!" Andrea shouted, "I fucking love sucking your black cock!"
The Japanese men all laughed and chattered to each other. God knows what they would have thought if they'd known that she was my wife.
After a 20 minutes or so, Lenny had her turn over again, this time kneeling on the sofa facing away from the peepholes. George moved in close with his camera, as Lenny parted her cheeks and looked over to the wall that I was looking through, and winked for my benefit.
Andrea spread her legs as far as possible.
Christ! Her pussy was red raw and stretched beyond belief as the spunk of four men clung to edges. It looked really well used and baggy.
Still looking at the peepholes Lenny inserted two fingers into Andrea's gaping spunk filled pussy. They hardly touched the sides. Grinning he pulled his fingers out only to replace them with two more. Andrea began grinding her hips onto his hand.
"Does that feel good?" he asked her. She nodded her head as she pressed her hips down onto his wrist.
"Come on Andrea, does that feel good?" He asked again. The other three laughed, as she groaned, "Yes, yes?. Oooohhhh! Yes it's fucking good!" She squealed when he twisted his hand 180 degrees.
My wife arched her back and pushed her arse further into the air.
Lenny was now working his thumb into her well-fucked cunt too. Andrea gripped the back of the sofa and pressed back onto his hand until his knuckles and complete hand was sucked into her body.
Christ! Yet again I couldn't believe my eyes. My tiny well-groomed wife was being fisted and bloody well enjoying it.
Lenny kept grinning at me as Andrea bounced back and forth on his fist!
Her head was shaking as she screamed out, "Fucking Hell! Fucking Hell! Fucking Hell! I'm cumming! Faster, faster, fucking hell! YYYYEEEESSSS!" Andrea screamed like a she-wolf as her orgasm ripped through her tiny frame. She flopped forward, still with Lenny's hand filling her sweaty cunt.
It took him a minute or two, but he finally disentangled his hand from her body leaving her cunt stretched even more than before.
As she attempted to get her breath back Shola quickly moved behind her and pressed his fat black knob against her anal ring.
"No, no not there." Andrea panted, as she looked over her shoulder, but she didn't sound too convincing.
It took him a few seconds to get the bell end passed her tight ring but when he did, the excess spunk that had slid out of her battered cunt lubricated his shaft. He filled her arse as easily as he had previously filled her cunt.
Andrea let out a muffled scream as she bit the sofa.
The Jewish man kept mumbling, "That's it, fuck the bitch's arse. Go on, faster, faster make her scream!"
Shola obliged; his hips banged his cock into Andrea's virgin hole like a steam train. She made no attempt to stop him and after a few minutes her head was rocking from side to side in sexual ecstasy.
Because he'd already 'came' twice, Shola was taking an absolute age fucking her tight arsehole.
Lenny got bored and told him to stop and put her on the mattress. As soon as Shola withdrew Andrea climbed off the sofa and lay on the mattress without being asked. Her eyes were twinkling like stars.
The gang-bang continued for about an hour, with everyone fucking her fanny and mouth again. Everyone, except Joel fucked her arse. He wanted to and she definitely wanted him to, but however much he tried it just wouldn't go in, much to Andrea's disappointment.
When the men had finished with her, Andrea sat on the sofa with her legs wide apart, very tired and covered in dry spunk, drinking a can of beer that George had produced. The men stood around smoking and drinking. Lenny left the room and came around to where I was standing.
Did you enjoy that, he asked.
Fucking hell yes I replied still standing with my trousers around my ankles and my cock standing to attention.
The Jewish men shook Lenny's hand and thanked him for another fantastic show. George quietly spoke to the Japanese men, who continued standing next to the peepholes.
You should fuck off now before we let her go. He told me in a stern voice.
I nodded as I pulled up my trousers and finally put my sore cock away. I wandered back to my car in a daze, leaving my slimed wife behind.
Mature Neighbor
Mature Neighbor · Mature · The first time i fucked my mature neighbor was when she called one Saturday night drunk at my door‚ now don't get me wrong we had met before and had a few coffees together‚ She a sexy big tit big ass lady that looks good for 46. Well when she knocked at the door she revealed that she had been drinking and could she come in naturally I let her in and with in minutes she was asking me did i shave my ball which i replayed yes. She then asked to use the toilet to which i showed her‚ Say to me to wait on her suddenly the bathroom door opened and there she was standing in fuck me boots‚ stockings and suspenders and a sexy little corset with her boobs busting out over the top. she just stood there smiling and then asked you like what you see‚ to which I nodded‚ pushing me back against the hall wall she dropped to her knees and looking up at me with her tits now swinging freely from the corset she said now let see what you got. Frantically she pulled my belt off jeans down‚ now not to blow my own trumpet I do have a long hard fat 9 inch cock. She just paused and stared at my young 31 year old cock pointing at her and then said that is the most beautiful cock I have seen and I don't know if it will fit in my pussy‚ ass or mouth but fuck it i'm going to try to which she opened her mouth and started to suck on my big cock within ten minutes she had made her way halfway down my shaft with her mouth only pulling off for a breath of air or to tell me she was going to get it down her throat which she did my whole 9 inchs squeezed down her tight throat another 10 minutes and i was twitching and shooting my first load down her throat‚ which she accommodated and drank every drop. still sucking on my cock she proceeded to suck it back to life‚ reaching down I felt her pussy was all wet and moist leading her to the sofa pushing her down I threw her legs in the air stuck my face down on her clit and fingering her wet pussy all the squirts and slopping noises you get with a wet pussy ringing through the air in my apartment. 10 minutes of licking/deep licking‚ ass licking and fingering her ass and pussy she soon was cumming all over my face which i licked up and then plunged my cock deep into her wet soggy pussy taking my cock deep she moaned groaned and twitched on my cock with a good hard thrust i started to bang my neighbors pussy really hard and even with her pussy being all wet she was still surprisingly tight continuing to fuck her hard i mean fucking really hard her cum flowing down between her ass and her big tit bouncying from the deep hard fuck she was receiving. squeezing them hard and sucking on them she screams out cumming on my cock and squirting all over it as i pull out filled her mature body once again with a load of cum‚ sticking her ass in the air the mature slut placed her hands on each bum cheek and pulled them apart her pussy juice glistening in the light around her asshole. Grabbing my cock she forced my big cock into her ass in one go pushing back to feel my balls slapping against her wet pussy which she was frantically finger fucking squirting even more pussy juice over my ball which she then started to rub into her pussy even inserting fucking hell i shouted as i grab her big tits and squeeze the hard making her cum her ass getting loser with every thrust screaming and shouting to fuck her cum everywhere but i wish ball deep in my mature neighbor and she was loving it. I soon was announcing i was going to fill her ass with cum and she screamed with pleasure as my pulsating cock emptied its third load. Pulling out she pounced on my cock again with her mouth and said she wanted to suck it clean taking her time she sucked it clean and left with my cum dripping out of all her fuck holes. The next day bumping into her in the apartment block she smiled at me with a seductive smile‚ and within 20 minutes of me being in my apartme3nt the door knocked it was her standing there in stilettos and a long coat which she revealed that she was naked under placing a kiss on my check she whispered into my ear that my cum was dripping out of her all day and i was all she could think of and when she seen me earlier she got all wet went in stripped off and come to see it I had anymore lovely fresh warm cream to feed her hungry holes. Which started another night of wild sex with my mature dirty slut of a neighbor.
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1)
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) · Fetish · There’s something in the bible I heard preached when I was very young, back when girls were still allowed to go to school. It described Eve as Adam’s “help-meet,” and went on to add that just as with the world with all its animals, women were put upon the Earth to benefit men. The reading came again a few weeks later after there had been rioting in the streets. The monotone voice again repeated that women were intended by God to be the perfect servants of men, a resource to be used and enjoyed—even harvested as sustenance to feed hungry bellies. “Let the woman return to her original purpose,” the speaker had said. “She is made for recreation, for procreation, and above all else—to nourish and sustain men.”
I was twelve when I was taken from my family. I have no idea what became of my mother and two younger sisters, for they had vanished like so many women and blemished girls. My older sister still lives, as far as I know, doing one of the many things attractive girls must do. As for me, my name is Dani, and at fourteen years old I’m almost to the age of usefulness. This camp that I am staying at is actually meant to deprogram boys and teach them God’s will. Each camper is assigned a girl as his project on the first day. For one month that boy is expected to work with his girl, doing his best to ready her for service. This involves a lot of coaching, as our thoughts too, were in need of correction. My boy is Pete, a tall lanky youth with thin hands. Once Pete had played the piano, but now I’m his instrument.
The first part of each day I must spend in the tank. For three hours I’m required to swim without resting—never touching the sides unless absolutely necessary. I am of course naked as all girls are. We can wear robes when we get chilly. But if a male staff member should cross our path, we are to uncover ourselves for his inspection. For we females are lowly creatures. Such things as privacy or pride are a male privilege only.
It would not be so bad, except for the blistering summer heat. The men are never too concerned, since girls are not to live long anyway. But at least most places around the park are protected somehow. The tank where I swim has a wooden overhang. Even the walkways we girls take to get to our meals have covers overhead.
It is a Tuesday and I have finished my swim. I towel off my chilled body, and then I await the arrival of my coach. At age fourteen my breasts are now at last showing promise. I suppose I would be into a C cup by now, if such a thing as bras still existed. Pete will focus on my breasts first in his obsession to make them larger.
I pad into the empty gymnasium beside my tank, starting on the bench press to strengthen my pecs. After this I do my sets of push-ups, followed by cable flies. Pete enters the gym and quietly watches me as I work, his gaze on my chest as I separate my arms. “Done pullovers yet?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Pull downs?” No. Another negative. “You’re behind, Dani.”
I nod, and as I stand, he gestures me over to the freestyle weights. We work together for about an hour, and Pete makes me repeat the sets he missed. “Now stand before me,” he commands in his bossiest voice. I obey at once, my head turning sideways as his hands massage my breasts.
I tense when he takes my nipples and pinches them gently, rolling them thoughtfully between his fingers.
“Your sister’s tits are huge,” Pete says, “So I know we can get you there, too.” He cradles my right breast, rubbing it firmly between his palms. “She’s a swimmer, isn’t she? That’s the work I want for you. It’ll keep you cool in the summer. During the winter they heat the water so it’s no big deal.”
I nod, thinking of my many long hours each day in the smaller tank behind the aquarium, away from the public’s view. The large glass container had once held salt water and fish, but now the water was pure, slightly warmed and clear. All the girls in the performance pool out front are at least seventeen, with thin waists and jewelry adorned breasts that sway and bob as they move. Some are costumed as mermaids, while others crouch before the underwater glass, spreading their legs for the men on the level below to see. It is a millionaire’s club—or a billionaire’s club. I’m not sure which and I guess it doesn’t matter. Though now I see the police in the parking lots, too. The elite who run this club favor the town’s sheriff, a greasy fat man who supplies them with the prettiest girls.
Pete is crouching before me, his knees spreading my thighs where I stand, then pulling apart my girlhood with his fingers. I continue to look away, my eyes closed as I feel one finger find the wet spot between my legs. He rubs gently, a slow circular motion that spreads my fluids out, making me slippery in every crevice. Then he slides one finger slowly in. I open my mouth, licking my lips as the finger crooks and explores my interior. Pete pulls it back out and shows it to me, flecked white with my juices. He returns to his work, separating my folds and spreading them flat. Two fingers sink in, reaching upward as far as they can. Pete is holding my buttocks close to his chest, his arm cocked as more fingers glide in. Four fingers now, clamped together to form a funnel.
“What are women for, Dani?” Pete asks. He is up on his knees, his strong arms around me.
“To . . .” I am panting. “Please men!”
“Exactly.” Pete tucks his thumb into the funnel of his half-inserted fingers. “Slow and easy,” he croons. I feel the skin around my opening stretch wide almost to tearing.
Remembering my previous sessions, I breathe slowly, deeply, and relax my legs. “Good girl,” Pete observes. His strong arm holds me steady as he works. “Now what is God’s will?”
“That I should please men,” I answer. I lean over his head, my fingers grabbing his hair. He is tilting his hand slowly from side to side, softening the mouth of my pussy even more.
“Dani,” he admonishes. “You’re trying too hard. Shall we give you your pill?”
“Y-yes!” I cry. Smiling, he reaches into his pocket and produces the tiny tablet. I swallow it quickly, gratefully, and then droop forward again, my soft breasts draping over his head.
He continues to smile, his hand maintaining the gentle rocking. His four fingers are half inside me, with the added girth of his thumb. He rotates his hand in a circular motion, tilting it up and down, and then side to side. I am feeling the heaviness begin in my legs. My tongue goes dry, cottony. I feel my eyelids drooping. He removes his hand and lowers me onto my back, his hands separating first my petals, and then my opening. I hear the pumping sound as he squirts lube through a tiny straw directly inside me. “Gently now,” he breathes.
I close my eyes. The fingers are stretching me more with every movement, and I feel them pushing, working their way in. Pete has my pelvis lifted—pillowed on his thigh. My legs are up and flopped to each side, my feet dangling close to my shoulders. The pressure continues as the fingers twist, as more of the thumb makes it in. I feel my muscles submitting around his hand, the tight sensation easing somewhat. There is one more hard push, and then he is in me, embraced by my flesh, his entire hand delving inward.
I am drifting with the currents of the drug, feeling his hand pressing me out, the fingers turning to expand my interior. He progresses until his knuckles touch my cervix. I let out a gasp, though my sleepy eyes are closed.
“Now listen to my voice,” he says. “This camp is about preparing you girls to be women in this new world. Proper women—not like what you were before. The grownups can’t do it. There are strict laws against pedophilia now. But they can watch if they want to, because they are men, and men can do whatever they want.”
“Whatever they want,” I repeat dully.
“This is the first time I’ve had my whole hand inside you,” he tells me. “You’re so amazing, Dani. I am proud of you.”
I nod as his hand glides in and out, exits and re-enters my body. I feel fluid dripping down, the feathery touch of his fingertips on my clit. With every stroke my body submits more, my muscles softening under the pressure and pull of his hand. He seems tireless as he works, his muscles rippling in his arm as he changes angles, sinking deeper than before, touching places no one’s been. He motions me to cross my ankles, then lifts my legs over my belly, holding them aloft with his hand behind my knees. He rolls into a crouch, and now uses the weight of his arm to drive quickly in and out. I grunt rhythmically with each penetration. More liquid dribbles where I can feel it. I can see his hand glistening as it withdraws, his tanned smooth skin flecked white with my juices. He enters again and pauses, then speeds up his tempo, the hand barely entering before snapping back out. I am loose now around his wrist, my flesh yielding as he turns and angles and stretches. Then once more he resumes the deep plunges. A whole hour passes and still Pete works. He is panting hard with exertion, sweat trickling down his neck. I climax twice and still he continues, his face sprayed with my fluids.
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete soothes as he works. “I’ve made a device I want you to wear to bed tonight, and every night. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Okay,” I mumble groggily.
“As much as I’m loosening you right now, in an hour you’ll be tight as a drum again, maybe even more. We need to keep training your body. It must remember how to open, be readily accessible whenever men want it. Most men want to fist, but rarely are willing to do the work. So you must do it for them. Understand?”
I close my eyes as Pete lowers my legs. Now he raises one to his shoulder, my other one dangling free. He rolls again to his knees, and lifts my pelvis with him. The hand is gliding in and out, so effortless I barely feel him.
Then finally he withdraws and sets me down, wiping me out gently with a warmed washcloth. I feel him strap something around my waist. Then something firm and cold slides in. There is a pull and click of a buckle in front, and then another behind. “There,” Pete says in satisfaction. “That’ll hold it in place. Wear this for the rest of the day, ok? And to bed tonight. Over time we’ll swap this out—graduating to larger sizes. But this is good to start.”
“You do nice work,” an older voice said. “Keep track of her depth from now on. Vagina and rectal both, if or when you get that far. You can pass the info on to the next boy assigned to her. I was wondering.” The doctor eyed Pete speculatively. “If you’d like to stay on after next week. Work part time here while you’re going to school.”
“What would I do?” Pete went to the sink to wash his fingers. I climb to my feet, staring at the length of black leather around my waist. I could feel the object hard within me, and the trickle of fluids down my leg.
“Help train the new boys coming in,” the doctor said. “You could also measure these girls and keep a spreadsheet. The measurer’s in your kit. Have you used it yet?”
The doctor turned and I lost track of the voices. My insides were warm and pleasantly achy, the area between my legs throbbing.
“It’s a deal then,” the doctor said in a hearty voice. “Good. I’ve been watching you work and I recognize your skill. It’s not just about getting as much as you can to fit. It’s an artform—as you know. A kind of dance.”
I like to think I’m helping her reach her full potential.”
The doctor coughs. “That’s a great way to see it,” he says. “The value of the woman depends entirely upon her usefulness. Even those we harvest for food—even they have more purpose in life than a woman left on her own.”
There was a pause as the doctor sauntered off. Then I felt Pete’s hand on my bare shoulder. “Think you can walk with that thing?” he asks. I nod slowly and take a few steps.
***
“Get your holes nicely stuffed?” Breanne glares at me across the aisle. The barn is chilly today, its high rafters filled with the chatter of small birds. I sprawl sideways on my bunk, the highest of a stack of three. The barn has been styled in the manner of the Auschwitz prisoner barracks, with long narrow rows of bunks. There are three rows altogether, with the capacity to hold ninety girls in one barn. We have numbers assigned to us, too, like the residents of the Nazi camps. Only ours are hidden—tiny microchips beneath our skin.
I shrug. The blond girl hates me intensely. “Just the one,” I respond.
“She’s jealous of Pete,” another girl quipped. This was Diane, a fiery redhead that the men favored.
“I am not!” Breanne returns hotly. “I just hate how she just lays there. Like she’s not even alive! And look. He’s put a spacer inside her. Gonna stretch her nice and wide!”
I glare at the rafters, my arms pillowing my head. “We’re supposed to stay open, aren’t we?"
“No, we’re supposed to fight!” snarls Breanne. “We are human beings, not livestock. How dare they?”
Another girl peeks out from under my bunk, her raven hair swirling down her arm. “They are following God’s word,” she says. “Have you read it? Women were made for the happiness of men; it’s very clear in the bible. Adam was unhappy, and so God made him a help meet. That’s us. We are here to help however we can.”
“Help the men?” Breanne growls the words. “By letting them torture us? Have you heard the cries from the barn on the hill? Or letting them harvest our bodies as if we are cattle? They have women attached to machines for at least two years. All those women do all day is hang there and produce milk. That’s slavery!”
“The men rule over us.” Helen replies, her blue eyes meeting mine. I like my bunk mate. She is a year younger than me. And just like Helen Burns her namesake from Jane Eyre, she is a calming influence, and very smart. “They decide where we fit the best—where we can be the most useful.”
“And if the men decide you’re best at being ground into hamburger—”
Helen shrugs. “I’m not ugly, so I doubt that would happen.”
I tune them out and return my gaze to the rafters. The dildo inside me isn’t so uncomfortable if I stay on my back.
The girls go on talking around me, Breanne expressing her outrage over my docile behavior.
“She’ll live longer,” Helen says from beneath me. “But with that attitude, Breanne, you might find yourself at the torture barn.”
The torture barn. My innards writhe at the thought, for like everyone else I hear stories. Some men like happy things to do with women, appreciating the beauty of our form, or even our taste alongside beans and potatoes. But not all men have the same needs. The torture barn caters to a gentlemen’s club, and the unfortunate girls carted off into the forest are never again seen. But they are heard. Late at night if I happen to wake, I can catch the sounds of the far-off screaming. Not all the girls cry out. But when they do, the terrifying cries echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts for days to come.
***
I hear the bell for dinner and jump from my bunk, wincing as the dildo bruises me inside. The food is good here. They feed us as though we are prized pigs. Everything is organic and healthy—superfoods to keep us tasty if or when they decide to harvest our meat. I attack my meal with gusto as I do every night. It is a plate of peeled carrots, topped with chickpeas, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and hemp hearts. Added to the mix is ginger powder, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and nutritious yeast. It is delicious and I eat every forkful, washing it down with a glass of iced mushroom coffee.
Doctor Burns appears behind our tables and saunters slowly, his hands behind his back, to the dais up front. The boys from the camp appear in his wake, each carrying a chair that they place beside our tables. The doctor plugs in the microphone at the back of the dais, then gives it a tap to call the room to order. “Pete Jennings,” he calls in his ringing voice. “Has your girl finished her dinner?”
Pete stands slowly and glances my way. “She has, Dr. Burns.”
“Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “Bring her forward along with your tools.”
I tense as I stand, the skin prickling behind my neck. The doctor continues to address the entire room. “This boy performs in ways that outstrips some of our best full-time trainers; hence I have asked him to stay on as part of our staff. I thought it might benefit the rest of you boys to observe his techniques. Peter,” the doctor gestures to the table being wheeled onto the dais. “Do you have everything you need for a demonstration of your skills?”
Peter frowns at me as I step to his side, then turning his body in such a way as to hide his right hand, he passes me the little pill to help me relax. I turn away, gulping it down quickly as I climb shakily onto the table. He gestures me onto my back, then nods toward the doctor.
“What now, Sir?”
The doctor seats himself in front of our tables. “Pretend we’re not here. Consider this another session. Business as usual.”
I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Pete’s hands are on my breasts, kneading them firmly. He pauses as he works, leaning over to finger my clit.
I breathe deeply, a wave of fatigue creeping down my limbs. Pete takes his time with my breasts, his fingers digging through the tissue to find my muscles.
“Why do that?” One boy calls from the left side of the room.
When Pete fails to respond, the doctor speaks for him. “It gets her juices flowing. You should be doing this, too—all of you. A lot of men still get off on the breasts. Better to have our girls ready for whatever comes.”
I float with the effects of the drug, my legs raising up as Pete slides them into the stirrups. He lifts me to the point that I feel a breeze between my buttocks and the cushion I am on. The design of this table is alien to me, appearing to have been created for this purpose. It has a light that Pete switches on to shine between my legs, fully illuminating my groin.
He loosens my belt deftly and slides out the dripping dildo, setting it aside on the bench beside the table. His fingers glide up inside me, two and then three, turning slowly as he applies a slight pressure. He takes his time, bending low to explore my interior and gaping me as he has done before. He adds lube to his hand, then twists in effortlessly, his elbow turning this way and that as he expands my interior. I let my head droop to the side, feeling the drool running down my cheek. The fisting continues for what seems like forever. Pete glides slowly in and out, focusing fully on his objective. His fingers form a fist at my core, his knuckles rubbing against my cervix. Then he draws out his hand with a squelching sound, his fingers glistening.
“If she was a year older, he could double it now,” the doctor says. “Have any of you boys gotten to that part in your books?”
A few raise their hands. Smiling, Peter glances at his fellow campers hurrying to gather around the table. “She’s not fighting you at all,” one observes, staring down. A boy moves next to Pete, his fingers reaching in to spread my folds back, making the entry and exit of Pete’s hand more visible in the light. A few boys trade places with Pete, their hands penetrating me as Pete’s had done, so smoothly I barely notice. I am aware of hands holding my buttocks, lifting my pelvis even higher. Pete’s arm is in me again, the elbow rising and falling, the wet sounds filling my ears.
“She’s a good girl,” Pete said. He is rotating his fisting hand carefully, massaging my sore interior.
***
That night I sleep without the dildo. It is Pete’s idea, since I worked so hard today. I watch a girl braid Breanne’s hair as sleep eludes me. The girls are the rebels in our group, but tonight they seem subdued, as if Diane’s threat of the torture
barn still lingered in their heads. Horror stories abounded of the torture barn. No death was easy there.
“If we’re dead, we can’t fight back,” I hear one of the girls say.
“We can’t resist them,” whispers the other. “Christianity has taken this country completely. It’s worse than Afghanistan now.”
“I don’t know about that,” Breanne says. “They’re probably just as bad. They don’t have red meat, either, right? And real men can’t live without it. Show me a man who’s vegan and I will bet you my last penny he’s gay.”
Pete eats meat, I think as I drift off, dreaming obscurely of men wearing dresses and swimming in the tank with mermaid tails.
***
The new day brings a blast of chilled air onto my face as I jerk awake. The barn doors are open, the bell ringing us girls to breakfast. I stop absently for my shot as I leave the barn, then trot naked, the third in a long line of sleepy nude bodies. The boys and men pause grinning to watch us, and I avoid their eyes as a proper girl should.
Our breakfast is oatmeal, with raisins and honey. Once again it is the best oats money could buy—seeded organic oats with fresh moist raisins. We top this with cold milk and drink it down with mushroom coffee. Dessert is an orange, thin skinned and bursting with juice.
***
I sink into the water of the tank and breast-stroke to the other side. Watching me, Pete frowns. “What have I said about shaking loose first?” He crouches beside the pool and I swim to a stop below him. “Your muscles support your breasts,” he said. “But they are separate. To be a swimmer your breasts must move freely with the water. They cannot be tethered to your muscles. Now go on; assume the position.”
I nod and reach downward with my arms, my legs beneath me as I pretend to crawl on my hands and knees. I hold my arms away from my body and jerk my knees forward and back, the motion of the water catching my breasts, dragging them to and fro. I double my speed until my breasts are flopping back and forth. Then I change my movement, scissor kicking my legs to make my flesh jerk upward and down. Pete is nodding above me.
“It’s good practice letting them hang. This is the position the milkers take. The breasts dangle from your ribcage, the weight of the milk drawn away from the rest of your body. Used to be a girl could produce twenty-five ounces to thirty ounces daily. That was three years ago. Now most of our women pump out fifty ounces per day, with some coming close to a half gallon. The eventual goal is a whole gallon. A carton’s worth per woman. And who knows? With drugs they might pull it off.”
I flip onto my back and swim where Pete can see, the tissue over my ribcage bobbing easily in the water—rippling with the waves. I turn back, pivoting toward Pete.
I start when I find him treading water beside me in his loose red swim trunks. “All girls become milkers eventually. You need to get used to it.” He turns me in the water, then grasps my nearest breast and pulls it downward, squeezing it hard. “Being handled by men, I mean. Once you are a swimmer, you’ll be given the Somatotropin to help your breasts grow. Milkers get huge, you know, which is why they hang from slings. They cannot walk anymore. Or at least not far. Which is why we need to make your muscles stronger for all the weight you’ll support one day. Here,” he says, and hands me over a pool noodle. Seeing my confusion, he gestures. “Tuck it under your arms so it supports you from behind. I’m going to try something new before you swim.”
Mystified, I obey, and Pete pushes at me until my head bumps the wall. “Hold onto the ladder. I don’t want you drifting.”
I grip the rungs, and lay back. My breasts float and point skyward, jiggling under the sun. Pete turns my body, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand—then twists his other into the softness between my legs.
I tense at the coolness of the water entering me. Pete works his hand inside me, the lube making a patch of oil on the water under his chin. “Spread your legs wide. I can’t do it for you.”
I obey as best as I can. The arm pushes in past the wrist, and turns, and I shiver at the water that is sucked in with it, a chillness he pushes deeper before drawing his hand out. He catches one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. Then he fists me steadily, the water entering me again. “A good washing after yesterday,” he says with a grin. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasp, eyeing the white haze forming about me, my fluids snaking around us both.
“I thought it would ease some of the burning. All that work yesterday.”
I recline as far as I can, my one leg bobbing in the tank’s current. With every stroke, Pete angles his wrist deliberately to invite more water in, the coolness filling my depths along with his hand, easing the heat I didn’t realize I had.”
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete croons as he works. “I’m giving you the rest of today off after your swim. Keep the dildo inside you if you can. Even when you’re not in bed and walking around. We need to keep your body open until the men want it —teach it to be accessible at all times, like I’ve said. Most men want to fist, but rarely want to do the work. Do you remember what is most important?”
I nod. “Pleasing the man.”
“Or men,” Pete corrects me. “Sometimes there’ll be men. No matter what they do, or how roughly they do it, you need to always look for ways to please—however they want you to.”
“What if they want to kill me?”
There is a strained pause. Pete stops his hand, his knuckles gently massaging my cervix. “That, too,” he says finally. “A woman with uses is a woman fulfilled. If they kill you for their pleasure, then your life has not been wasted. You’ll be processed into meat and you’ll serve a second purpose—to fill their bellies. Not many women get to have multiple ways to find meaning for their life. That’s why the girls who go up the hill are the luckiest of all.”
I gape at him. “But they’re tortured!”
He sighs, and his hand resumes its work. “It’s just foreplay, Dani. Just a different kind. Those women pleasure the men first, and then feed them. Compare that to an ugly girl who gets carted off from her home, never to be seen again. She serves one purpose only. Just one. Do you think she’ll be remembered for that? No. But you will, and so will the girls on the hill. You represent a pleasant memory for a man. Or perhaps for many men. Isn’t that lucky?”
I nod, genuinely believing it after he puts it that way. But Pete is not finished. He wrinkles his brow, as if trying to remember words he had read. “God created men,” he recites slowly. “We are his creations, and in following our creator’s example, we made women from our rib. You are created from men. We are your gods. Don’t you want to please us?”
I raise my leg from his shoulder in response and cock it high over my chest. Pete, grinning approvingly, turns slightly to drive in his fist.
“So . . . it’s a good thing to go up the hill?”
Pete pats my hip. “All women die young,” he says gently. “Seems to me the more useful the death, the better. The men in that club aren’t so bad. They simply have different tastes than other men. I’ve heard it said that their methods are creative, but for the woman there is always a lot of pain. I think you should try to be like your sister. In a year or two your breasts will be strong and big. You will bring lots of pleasure to the men who visit us here. It’s a good club. Even when you enter your last phase and become a milker—you’ll see. I hear they even have movie nights for the dairy girls.
Useful. The word echoes in my ears as I stare beyond the buildings.
I go the rest of the day with the dildo inside me. I have the belt around my waist to hold it in, and I have to be careful when I sit on the bench for dinner. I can feel my fluids leaking onto the seat—a trickle I try discreetly to wipe with my hands.
***
The next day I wake early and tiptoe out to greet the sun. The road into the foothills has mist covering its base. During the night I had roused to the familiar sound of the old truck’s engine. A girl had been taken up to the barn in the hills. All night
I had stayed awake listening for sounds of screaming. But this death had been a silent one.
I ask Pete about it during my swim. He sits on a chair working on his computer. He is a junior in High School, and though he is at camp, he still has several projects he needs to finish before the fall quarter begins.
“Oh, did they?” Pete glances at the forest behind our heads. “I didn’t hear it. But your barn is closer to the road than our cabins.
“Did they give her something?” I asked. “Like you give me?”
Pete shakes his head. His blue eyes are fierce as he glares at his computer. “Drugs taint the meat, so no they wouldn’t. They just haven’t . . . done her yet. They might be collecting several girls for something. They do that, you know. Work on more than one per night. If it’s a weekend thing they usually have a barbeque after. They do if it’s sunny, that is.”
I lick my lips, punching the water rapidly with both fists. Pete glances down at my jiggling breasts and grins. “Does this really make them grow?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
Pete laughs. “Nah. I just read a lot so I can sound smarter than I am, and some of this stuff I make up as I go. But it does make sense. Weight lifting makes muscles bigger. Whether or not it makes your tits grow, who knows? But I do know they’ll end up huge eventually. Your owners will see to it in their quest for more milk. I’m surprised you’re not getting the shots yet.”
I nod, and hearing the chime of the clock go off, climb shakily up the ladder. I stand beside Pete, water sluicing down my legs. He gestures approvingly at the dildo still strapped inside my body. “Good girl, Dani. Way to take the initiative.”
“You said I needed to open easily.”
He stands and sets down his laptop. Taking me by the shoulders, he stares into my face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You do want to please.”
Tears burn in my eyes. “More than anything. I want to do what’s right,” I manage. “I thought God created women, too. That’s what my mother said. But—” He was emphatically shaking his head. “I know better now, Pete. And I’m sorry if I ever angered you or did anything disrespectful.”
“Hush now; you’re fine.” He smiles at me, genuine affection on his handsome face. “Come, let’s get you on your table.”
I follow him into the grooming room with its black and white checked floor and big basin sink. There are six tables in a row. What had once been chiropractic tables had been modified so a girl could lay face-down on her belly with her breasts poking through. I settle myself, hearing the squirt of oil from a bottle beneath me. Pete massages the liquid onto my cooled skin. My breasts follow his touch like magnets, the nipples clinging to his hands as if begging for more. He kneads deeply for a time and pulls, sliding the nipples between his fingers. “I do think you’re bigger. Not as big as your sister yet, but there’s definitely some heft here.” He cradles each breast—testing their weight. “How old are you?”
I think about my birthday. “What month is it?” I ask.
“It’s August,” he said. “August third.”
“My birthday was July 31st,” I tell him. “I’m fifteen now.”
“Fifteen. So, we’re now just a year apart in our ages.” He reaches up over the table and presses my back hard against the mat. “Strain down to me,” he commands. “Fill my hands.”
I obey, turning my head to press my cheek into the bed. He grasps each breast one at a time between his hands and tugs downward, the contours of his palms grinding into my tissue. Then he presses up through the flesh, his fingers massaging my muscles.
“I do get some kind of shots,” I tell him finally. “They’re just vitamins though. That’s what they tell us in the barn. Do you think—”
“No, that’s either the Somatotropin for humans I told you about, or something like it.” His heavy breathing pauses beneath me, his knuckles grinding into my breast. “I’m glad they’ve started you on it early. You’ll get big very soon. Bigger than your sister, probably. You should see the ones in the milk barn. They’re actually kind of ugly,” he muses, “by the time they get so big. The slings keep the girls from having to see how bloated they are. And their nipples are as fat as this or bigger!” He brandishes his thumb. “All purple and swollen. As long as my thumb, too!”
Sighing, I close my eyes. The knuckles are mashing into my tissue, my own nipples growing sensitive and hard. I feel the fluid welling again around the dildo. It dribbles onto the table, dripping to Pete’s head.
“God, you’re wet! Here.” Rising to his feet, he reaches around my waist to release the dildo. It jettisons out with a rush of warmth to land with a thump on the floor. “Nice!” Pete exclaims. “See Dani, this is exactly what the men want to see. A female dripping and ready for work, begging to be opened inside. Here.”
He raises the table to his waist. Then standing beside me, slides one whole hand in past his wrist. “Oh!” he exclaims. “Look at you!” Delighted, he moves between my legs, cocking my knees up until my toes touch my rump. With gusto he fists hard into my depths. Then grinning, he shows me his hand, the pale liquid dripping. “Should we try to double fist?” he asks as he resumes. “You’re fifteen now. I bet you’re ready. You’re certainly wet enough.”
I draw a deep breath, eyeing his hands. “If you think I can.”
“Absolutely.” He reaches into his pocket, then hands me a pill. I quickly shake my head.
“I want to feel it as much as I can,” I told him. “I like how it feels. Please, I’ll relax.”
He studies me briefly, then again takes position. I feel his hand gliding in deep, then slowly withdraw as more fingers hug his wrist. “Dani, I want you to think about opening yourself,” he says. He enters cautiously, the new fingers forming into the palm of his fist, sliding gradually in as he twists. The skin around the entrance to my cunt springs tight, painful to the point of tearing. I feel his every movement, each tiny adjustment making me hiss. “Easy,” he urges.
I breathe deeply as I fight to relax, imagining the mouth of my opening yawning wide to meet him. I feel a sudden stabbing pain just inside my vagina, and then another on the opposite side. I have the sensation of being poked three more times around my entrance, but there is numbness now. “Just a little novocaine,” Pete is saying. “There, that should help”
I feel the twisting continue, the pressure deeper now, as if the tightness at my threshold has ceased to exist. The hardness of his hands is rotating slowly, sinking down into my core. There is a sucking resistance as he pulls his hands outward, and I gasp in pain. Then I feel a pricking deep inside, and spot one of his hands between my legs. He is holding a syringe with a very long needle—guiding it carefully in. Another prick I barely feel, followed by another further in. “I know we’re cheating,” he says. “But I want this done right.”
Once again his hands penetrate my body, the walls of my numbed flesh yielding. He groans in delight, his entwined hands twisting hard and fast to loosen me up. “Let’s get you soft while the novocaine lasts,” he mutters. “I didn’t give you very much.” His body rocks as he fists; he is grunting softly in his throat.
“You’re doing so good,” he says, and before I can react, he plunges again, twisting eagerly to reach my cervix. Then he is out, and back in, his hands glistening. He pauses to turn me onto my side. “Can you hold your left foot over your head?”
I obey, holding my leg as far forward and up as I can. He cocks back my right leg with his knee, then drives into me steadily, his two hands as one gliding effortlessly in and out. Fluids are trickling down my right thigh as I writhe on the table. I am starting to feel it, the wide-open stretch and the massage deep within. He pulls out as my fluids gush, then wipes his face with his arm briefly before resuming his work. With my hypersensitive skin it feels incredible, every nerve on fire as his hands punch deep. The sound of my wetness is loud in the grooming room. The world is spinning around me. And still the pounding continues, the sliding of my body up and down on the table.
I pass out at some point, yet dimly I am aware of Pete turning me onto my back, raising my knees to secure them to the rings above the bed. My legs are opened and tied, so widely spread I can feel the tendons at my groin stretching. His two hands enter me again, alternating one and then the other, the hands inside no longer entwined, one sliding in as the other glides out. It goes on like that for what seems like hours, but then, abruptly, it stops. I feel Pete’s hands stretching the entrance of my pussy, pausing just inside and pulling me apart.
“What are you doing?” I mumble.
“I’m gaping you,” he tells me. “Something else men like to do. To see inside after they work. I can see very clearly inside you, Dani. You’ve done very well today.”
I feel my face flame hot. “Do I have to be a milker?”
He pats my thigh, then opens me wider as he bends for a long look. “Don’t be embarrassed now. Pleasing the man, remember?”
I nod, breathing deeply.
“Dani, milkers live two years longer at least. Don’t you want that? You’ll get to have a baby, too. If you’re really lucky, it’ll be a boy!”
“But I won’t get to raise him. They’ll take him away.”
“Girls cannot be trusted with such important work,” he agrees. “The church raises babies for you now. Besides, you’ll be too busy providing milk. For him, and everyone else. Girl’s milk goes into everything, you know. You drank some this morning.”
“I don’t want purple nipples,” I pout. I glare at the ceiling, feeling Pete’s hands deep within me, the entwined fingers holding still, as if feeling my body’s pulse.
“You won’t see them,” he says. “The breasts hang out of your sight, with bracers to support the weight. You forget they’re there after a while, or so I’ve been told by a reliable source. But think of it, Dani. All the healthiest food you can possibly eat. And movies! You get to watch movies!”
I close my eyes. The hands are turning within me, pressing me out. “If I don’t become a milker,” I venture to say. “What then?”
He sighs and the hands stop. “Well,” he says slowly, “if it turns out you can’t have a baby, you’d come to the end of your journey, wouldn’t you? They’d either take you up the hill to entertain those men, or you’d go to the processing plant, which is much more likely. I haven’t seen how it’s done, but I’ve heard there’s some kind of machine that does it really quick. You wouldn’t even feel it.”
I lick my lips. His hands are moving again, gliding slowly in and out. I try to relax despite my raised hips and widely spread legs. He is fisting me with his hands entwined, pumping me vigorously with loud squelching sounds. I am drifting again, my feet going numb from the straps under my knees. I see two men enter the grooming room and stop to watch Pete work. They are talking in low murmurs, their voices appreciative—praising his efforts. One shines a light in when Pete stops to gape me, the two faces rapt as they peer between my legs. My guts squirm as the men take their time, scrutinizing my interior and taking pictures as they talk to Pete.
“Have you done anal yet?” The taller man asks.
“Yeh,” his companion says, leaning down so I see his face. “First, why not tell her everything, boy? We work at the plant, little Miss. Wanna hear how it’ll go down? A knock on the side of your head to stun you first, see?” He taps his temple. “Then we’ll pop you into the D, D and D device. As in decapitate, dismember, and disembowel. All done by one machine. Thwack, thwack, thwack it goes, and It’s very quick, as your coach boy says. Then someone like old Jake here will get to wash out your torso and cut it in half, then a quick acid dip to loosen breast tissue and skin. And then what, Jake? Scraping, the stamp on the rump, and then the freezer?”
Jake’s mouth twitched. “Something like that. But it’s one big chunk, not three. The head and limbs come off simultaneously.” He stares at Pete. “I hear you’re talented, boy. I want to see your hand up her ass.”
“Not yet,” says Pete tightly. “One new thing at a time. I’ve been vagina fisting her for two straight hours and my hands are tired. I had to numb her up to get two inside. I’ve had enough for one day.”
“Then there was the time the machine wasn’t calibrated right,” the shorter man says. He leers at me, waggling his eyebrows. “Cut her head cleanly in half—it was something to see, I’ll tell you.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow to watch,” the man called Jake says. “We’re not allowed to work on these girls. We only ever see them in pieces.”
Pete clears his throat. “It’s a date. Though I warn you gentlemen, I doubt I’ll get my hand in. She’s never done anal before.”
The two men start for the door. “Oh, you’ll get it in,” the shorter man calls. “We won’t leave tomorrow so easily as today.”
I lay still as the door clicks shut. The cold air wafts between my legs, my fluids chilling my naked skin. Pete is squirting something soothing inside me, using one hand to push it deep. He wipes my exterior with a warm washcloth, clicking his tongue as he releases my legs. “What did I say is most important,” he asks.
I try to swallow. “Pleasing the men.”
He takes my hand and helps me sit up. “Exactly, Dani. Pleasing men. Those men in particular are very dangerous. There’s nothing I can do; as men they have the right to watch. So, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. Do you know what anal is?”
I draw a quick shaky breath. “A kind of fisting?”
“Yes.” Pete sets a pillow on the table, then gestures me onto my stomach. He raises my hips from behind, moving the pillow until it elevates my pelvis. “Only from the back. From here.” He taps my rosebud, as my mother once called it, the one private place I still have. “This is another thing a lot of men like. In fact . . .” Pete slathers on a thick lubricant, using one finger to poke some in. “Men like to see both holes fisted at once. A girl being fully utilized. If they could, they’d stick their penises in your mouth, too. But that kind of thing’s not allowed at this club.”
I accept the drug Pete gives me. Laying on my stomach, I wait as Pete stands beside me. Gradually I feel the weight of my head compressing my cheek on the table. I am drawing deep breaths, sinking rapidly into slumber. Vaguely I am aware of pain as my anus stretches, feeling oddly embarrassed like I’m going to the bathroom. I feel a hard object at first, something small graduating to big, making a pumping noise beside my head. The object is turning within me, straining my anus at different angles. Then it is gone and I feel Pete’s fingers.
Motionless, I try to sleep, relaxing my body as much as I can. The fingers twist slowly in and out. Then there is the object again, with more pumping sounds and the pain of stretching. Now it is Pete’s whole hand working its way in. Fingers are gaping me from behind, then the hand Is pushing inward, slimy with lube. Pete is inside me now, his hand a firm pressure as my tissues guide his way. He leans into me as he turns his arm. I feel the ball of his fist pressing my innards. His other hand enters my vagina, and begins to fist very gently. Groggily I splay my legs, lifting one from behind to give him room.
“You still in here?” A boy asked from the doorway. “It’s past dinner time, you know. I saved you a hot dog.”
Pete pauses in his work, breathing hard. “Trent. Can you help me with something?”
“Sure!” The larger boy hurries to the table. I am aware but not aware, drool soaking the table under my cheek.
“We have a problem. You can’t tell anyone, promise?”
“Promise!” Trent exclaims. “What do you want me to do?”
I blink, feeling the hand in my rectum slowly draw out. “Have you done anal?” Pete asks.
“Not yet.”
“Let me see your hand.” Another pause. “Good, we’re about the same size. Now cover your arm with lube to the elbow. Ease it in, like you saw me doing. Don’t force it. Let her body tell you what to do.”
“Oh God!” Trent groaned, as I feel the hand sliding in. “How far does it go?”
“You’ll feel a soft resistance; once you do, explore around a bit. Go in as deep as you can.”
“So what’s the problem?” Trent leans against my buttocks. His fingers are open inside, stroking my interior as he feels his way.
“Two men are coming tomorrow and they want to see anal on her. I figured it would be better to practice first. Lift her leg with your free hand. Pull the foot behind you and up.”
I feel Pete’s hands at the mouth of my cunt again, the two hands twisting themselves in. The skin is tight—painful to the point of tearing. “Easy,” Pete whispers to me. “Dani, relax!”
I try to sleep, to let the drug carry me back down. Three hands are inside me now, moving and twisting within.
“Three!” Trent exclaimed. “Wait, let me get my phone.” There is a pause as the larger boy makes his video. “Look at this! We’re at camp and he’s double fisting?”
Pete is pumping steadily now, the two hands entering my drugged body easily as I come and go from awareness. This lasts for some time, the double fisting below Trent’s deeply imbedded hand.
“Do you have a light?” Pete asked abruptly. “Oh good. Dani, we’re going to try this again.”
I nodded groggily as the arms inside me slowly retreat.
“Gonna gape?” Trent asked.
“Absolutely. Here, if I stretch the sides, can you get a few fingers in to press out the bottom? Just . . . that’s it. Straight down—firmly. Now hold.”
There was a click, followed by sounds of amazement. “That’s great! I’ve never seen that before.”
“That’s her cervix.” I hear a few more clicks, and then the fingers release. “I want copies of those,” Pete says.
“You got it. Ready for your hotdog? I put it in foil so it should still be warm.”
I am laying where the boys leave me, the two of them sitting on a bench as Pete eats. My stomach twists as I think of the ingredients.
“These are actually better for you than the old pork variety,” Trent is saying. “At least with girl meat there’s nothing disgusted added. Besides, pigs were smart. It was pretty terrible that we killed them for food.”
“Nope, just girl.” Pete makes a face as he stares at his food. “This makes us cannibals, you know?”
Trent shrugs his broad shoulders and grins at me. “If it was made out of men, then maybe that’d be true. But what’s wrong with cannibalism? Pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that condones eating your children. Besides,” He gives me a wink. “Don’t forget what women are for. To be our help-meets. Get it? Help MEATS?”
Pete rolls his eyes. “You ok there, Dani? Want some food?”
“Sure she does.” Trent approaches my table. “Here, let’s clean you up first.”
I submit as the larger boy washes between my legs with the now soiled cloth. “There.” He helps me sit up, and I shakily climb off the table. “Hungry?”
I glance dubiously at the bag on the bench and nod.
“Good, because I brought something from the kitchen for you. They were very clear on the matter that this is for you.” He lifts out a cardboard box and hands it to me. Opening it, I find a large serving of wild rice, broccoli and buttered pinto beans. I stare at the yellow grease congealing beneath the veggies, visualizing the girls hanging from slings in the dairy.
“Thank you,” I say, and accept the wooden spoon he hands over.
“Besides,” Trent continues to Pete. “We were all going to die from overpopulation. This way only half of us live beyond twenty-two. And the other half . . .” He pats my arm. “We have all the food we need for a very long time. You know they had us eating cockroaches before the pandemic. Alternative foods—it’s not like it’s a new concept.”
The rice and beans are good, despite the fact they are now at room temperature. I clean out the box, and even eat the biscuit Peter hands to me. I hesitate at the milk carton and straw Pete passes to me next, eyeing the image of a cow on the front. It is whole milk, and I know very well that it does not come from cows.
“Go on,” laughs Pete. “You’ve had it before. What’s the difference?”
I take a sip and savor the sweetness on my tongue and the rich creamy texture.
“This is actually better for us by far,” Trent is saying. “Cow’s milk was meant for baby cows, not humans. This is one hundred percent for us!”
Drinking deeply, I empty the carton as both boys watch.
“Like it?” Trent inquires.
“Um, yes, actually.” I am staring at the carton. Ingredients: Pasteurized Girl Milk. Girl, I think to myself. Because none of us get to be women anymore.
***
I follow Pete to my barn just as the lights are about to go off. “Get in bed,” the head girl commands with a glower at Pete.
Pete turns me where I stand. “Keep both dildos in,” he says in a firm voice. “The one in the back comes out only if you have to go, understand? You have a very big day tomorrow. Get some rest.”
I squirm uncomfortably and nod. Climbing into my bunk I finally find a comfortable position on my left side. The lights go out, leaving me sore and alone in the darkness. The dildo in my vagina is twice as large as the first, and it almost feels like the two chunks of latex are touching each other. With the one in my rectum, I feel constantly like I have to go. It is only when my stomach cramps that I run to the toilet.
“Where were you at dinner?” Helen’s voice floats up from below as I return to my bunk.
“Getting stuffed,” I snap, and screw my eyes shut.
***
When morning comes I find I can’t eat, and must choke my oatmeal down under the head girl’s stern eyes. The milk for our oatmeal is from hemp hearts, I realize, recognizing its frothy texture and nutty taste. I leave for the gym after breakfast, but find Pete stepping in my path cutting me off.
“No, he says sternly. “Today is about making you ready for those men from the plant tonight. And I am betting there will be more than just the two. Come on.”
I trot naked at his heels, bypassing the tank and the gym and going at once into the grooming barn. He gestures me to the table and onto my stomach. I comply, and tense as he removes both my dildos. “Very good,” he says approvingly. “We’re not going to fist right now, because I know you’re very sore. But a few things.”
He inserts a large needleless syringe into my vagina and I feel a coolness flooding my body. “This will help you feel better,” he tells me. “It will keep you numb for the next fifteen hours. Trust me, you will not be hurting tonight.”
I heave a sigh of relief as he repeats the process with my anus, inserting the fluid deep into my rectum. I am smiling as I lay there, oblivious to the stretches Pete is putting me through. He starts with several bottles, each progressively larger than the first, though for the life of me I can’t exactly say which orifice each bottle is for.
We work for about an hour, with me lying still and Pete standing beside me, both of us waiting for my body to adjust.
“You’ll do just fine tonight,” he tells me. “These men just want something different, that’s all. They get tired of only seeing the dark side of our new society. They want to enjoy some of the benefits. I can understand that.”
“Somebody has to do what they do,” I hear myself mutter.
He looks at me sharply. “That’s exactly right, Dani. These men do the dirty work to keep the rest of us from going extinct, including you girls. Men cannot survive without these resources you provide us. It’s a hard fact, and one we must live with.”
“Do you think . . .” I hesitate. “Your God is punishing you for letting women be equals?”
Pete taps his fingers on my head. “Could be,” he muses. “I never thought of that, but maybe so. If we had used you from the start the way God intended . . .” his voice trailed off. “Could be . . .”
He moves in behind me and slides out the bottles. I am shaky as I stand, my entire pelvis numbed from my belly button down.
“Ready for a swim?” he asks, eyeing me.
“I think so,” I tell him. I am eager to get to the tank—to swim off my anxiety and fear. The expressions on the faces of those men last night—like they were inspecting raw meat.
***
My stomach gurgles loudly in the grooming room as we wait. I sit on the table, my legs swinging back and forth over the side. The table with the light has been brought from the clubhouse, complete with its “hi-lo” stirrups and bright adjustable lamp. Trent stands to the side with his arms crossed. Pete has asked him to assist, and the larger boy agreed.
“You’re still a bit numbed now, but you’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Pete tells me quietly. “Please go along, and trust me. These are dangerous men. If they want to kill you for their pleasure, they can. They can even ask me to do it, and I’d have no choice. You are nothing but meat to them. That’s what they see all day long—that’s how they have to be to survive their jobs. If they see you as human . . .” He fidgets uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “Just know . . . whatever I do tonight—I’m trying to save your life."
“And act like you enjoy it!” Trent put in.
“But I do,” I say, gazing dazedly at his face.
The men from the plant are arriving in their cars. I can’t see them because the parking lot is to the back of the building. But I can hear the gravel crunch under the wheels, and then the hurried footsteps. Three men enter and jerk to a stop, surprised to find us waiting. The man I know as Jake motions his friends to gather the chairs stacked high in a dusty corner, placing them in a semicircle behind the table’s bright light.
“Are any more coming?” Pete asks. His hands are folded across his chest. Stupidly, I nod, the double dose of pills in my system are kicking in.
Jake smirks as he cracks a beer. “Two more. Larry, the fellow you met last night, is one.”
As the tall man speaks, the new arrivals appear in the doorway. Both are wearing work clothes from the plant, their white bloodstained shirts untucked. I am staring at the floor as the men join their friends.
Trent catches my shoulders. He pulls me back, settling my head on a pillow. Pete raises my thighs, lifting my buttocks off the table as Trent stuffs pillows beneath my hips. My feet are placed in the stirrups and tied, then with mechanical clicks my legs are spread wide, a clamp on each side immobilizing my knees. A rubber device the length and width of a ruler is placed vertically between my labia folds. Pete bends it to the shape of my pelvis, and then turns a knob at its base. The device separates down the middle, and as the two halves widen, the folds of my girlhood are stretched apart and flattened, held in place against my body and out of the way.
I close my eyes as the mouth of my cunt is revealed for all to see. Though I am still
partially numb from my navel down, still I can feel the anticipating pulse of my tissue under the light. The men lean forward, and one of them points. “My God, she’s wet!”
Pete smiles and steps in close. “Dani’s always ready,” he says. “Easy to open and obedient.” He tosses a pillow on the floor and kneels down. Sliding in a few fingers, he stirs my juices slowly as wet sounds fill my ears. He widens his circles, his fingers gliding over the spade shaped contours of my vagina to coat my girlhood, drawing the moisture down to my anus and back up. “Best lube on the planet,” he tells his observers. Slowly then, he inserts his whole hand, twisting slightly as he pushes in.
“Would you look at that,” a man exclaims. “No resistance whatsoever!”
“I told you she’s easy.” Pete smiles, fisting gently in and out, his action steady and smooth. He adjusts the light so the men can see, fisting casually, languidly, his free hand catching my fluid welling to the surface and spreading it around his wrist. The wet kissing sounds of my tissue yielding to his strokes is pleasant and relaxing to hear. I turn my head, smiling as he works. I feel disembodied, as if I’m levitating from the table as I stare blankly up. Pete pauses to lube both his hands, and I draw a deep breath, exhaling as I feel him twisting two-handed into my exposed and vulnerable cunt.
He slides in with a firm push, the mouth of my pussy hugging his wrists. His body rocks forward and back slowly as he pumps me deep. I moan as I feel his hands separating within me. In this position he draws his hands up, pressing my pussy apart as he halfway exits, then holding his hands static, pushes back in. He turns his hands, his knuckles rubbing my cervix as once more he unlocks his fingers and pulls. “Do you see what I’m doing?” Pete asks his rapt audience. “By loosening up my hands or even pushing in opposite directions, I can expand her as I work.”
I take deep breaths as Pete sinks widely back down. With every stroke he separates more, pushing hard against my interior. His hands break the surface and holds me stretched, his half-immersed fingers rotating slowly. “And now I can do this,” he says.”
Embracing his fist with his other hand, he plunges in hard and snaps out. I am grunting along with his strokes, my thighs trembling above my immobilized knees. Pete is turning his hands as he thrusts, twisting more of my juices to the surface. I watch the clock, feeling dizzy as the pounding draws out, the sound of flesh slapping flesh as he connects and sinks down. Ten minutes, and then twenty, unendingly he thrusts. I feel cool air inside my cunt, my pussy staying open as he exits—too relaxed and stretched to spring back. The fisting continues as the men look on, with some of them leaping forward—eager for a glimpse as Pete stops and gapes me, my vagina yawning for the men to see. He fists me again with even more vigor, the men gathering at his back.
“Won’t this destroy her?” one asks as Pete works.
Pete laughs. “Naw, girls are made for this. Why do you think she was wet before I started? She knew it was coming and her body was preparing itself. She hungers for this. It’s a well-known fact; the female body yearns to be opened wide. To be prepared for motherhood.”
The man looked down at Pete. “You sure know a lot of things.”
“He reads,” says Trent with a chuckle. “As in all the time! Mr. Bookworm here.”
“I also talk to my girl.” Pete nods at me. “Ask her yourself. Dani, do you enjoy being fisted?”
The men wheel toward me, the ones still seated tilting to see my face. I moan and lick my lips, trying to think beyond the pounding.
“She’s still too drugged,” Trent says. “I don’t think—”
Pete cuts him off. “Dani,” he repeats loudly over my grunts. “Do you want these hands inside you?”
I fight to focus on his face. “I . . . “
“Yes?” Pete urges.
“Yes!” I gasp. “Yes, I want . . . yes, please!”
“There you have it.” Pete parts his hands again as he works, the airy noises from my cunt filling the little room. Again he gapes me, holding me open for the men to see.
“Can you try fisting one handed while your friend does that?” The man who was Jake’s partner askes. “So we can see your hand inside?”
Pete brightens at this idea and nods to Trent. The larger boy reaches past Pete with both hands, his fingers gripping the bony top of my vagina for leverage while he stretches my lower wall down. Pete adds fingers to press back one side as his fist passes into my gaping cunt. Slowly he fists, his hand and wrist more visible now as it penetrates my body.
“Okay, now do behind,” Jake says, licking his lips. “I assume you prepared her for that ahead of time, too?”
“You men work hard; we wanted to give you a good show,” Trent replies. He is grinning as he hurries to flip me onto my side. My leg is lifted, held aloft by the rings above the bed. I am scooted down until the lower half of my buttocks extends over the table. My right foot drifts limply to the floor before Trent scoops it up, pushing my knee forward against my chest and securing it with straps to my body.
Trent smears lube on his arms while Pete adjusts the light. “Do you want me to start her for you?” he asks, and Trent shakes his head.
“No, I got this. It’s pretty easy once you get in.”
Pete moves up beside me, catching my closest breast and kneading it hard. I feel Trent probing my anus with his fingers, slipping in fingers one by one. Slowly the hand works itself in, the fingers clamped into a cone shape. I feel the soft give as Trent slides into my rectum all at once, the tissue yielding as he ventures inward. “Nice,” Pete croons gently. “You’re a very good girl, Dani. Open wider for him, will you?”
I sigh as the hand sinks into the deepest well at the core of my being. Trent leans his body forward, his knuckles rotating back and forth. Ever so slowly he withdraws his arm, then with a firm solid pressure, thrusts in to his elbow.
I lay very still. I had never experienced just the anal by itself. The strokes are long and easy within my half-numbed body, the hand rising shallow toward my anus, then plunging back deep. The gas escaping from around his wrist makes my face burn hot. “Remember what matters,” Pete whispers in my ear. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He moves to crouch beside Trent. The larger boy is standing, using the weight of his body to pump in and out. Pete stirs the fluids of my cunt with his fingers, playing at the edges of my opening, using the lamp to explore it out. He expands it wide with two fingers from each hand, then inserts three as far as he can, reaching in and drawing out. He moistens the pink interior of my opened folds with my juices, then dives back in with four fingers now, turning them slowly within my opening. He stretches the lower wall of my pussy, then plunges deep with his free hand, fisting hard and fast alongside Trent. I am groaning now despite myself, the two hands filling my body. Then Pete clamps his free hand around his wrist, sliding in to my half-numbed cunt with just the slightest pause of resistance. The men are around us now, some taking pictures with their phones. The three hands plunge and retreat, dive in and pull out, my body rocking in time with the rhythm of their thrus
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