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Ned69: Looking for a woman Central West NSW or Sydney NSW. Email me nedmcelhone@yahoo.com.au
I am 56 professional super sexed
4 Years Ago
Dakmanau: I'm located in Dural, NSW, Australia. I have been Vanilla all my life and have delved briefly into the BDSM scene. I now find myself in a sexless marriage and very frustrated. I am curious now in re-establishing contact with the BDSM community and regain some of the fun and intensity that is a part of DBSM. Question, are there any munches in my area which is near Castle Hill and Hornsby in Sydney, NSW ?
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horny1463: Hi, I am 60 and new. Would love to play with some younger women. The younger the better.
I find as I’m getting older, I’m getting more horny and dirty.
I live in Brisbane The Gap, and work in Murwillumbah NSW (near Tweed Heads) 4 days a week.
Anyone interested?
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Ropes-Crossing Horny Women NSW AU
Hope This is OK...
Hope This is OK... · Erotic Couplings · I work 3rd shift, she thinks I'm staying over tonight, working a 12hr. shift. Truth is, I left early. It's about :20 after 2 am. I'm parked on the street, not in front of our house but down the way just a few driveways from ours.
Currently I'm pondering what it is I'm about to do. I'm either a deviant genius or demented derelict fool.
See, yesterday while she shopped, I made preparations. I left a basement window unlocked and barely open. On the window's frame a few dog treats rest. Intended to quickly quiet the beast, he's also the reason I parked down the street.
I also prepped the bed, using a Figure-of-Eight Hitch knot, I secured one end of a roughly 4' length of 18mm 3 strand spun polyester rope to each of the bed frame's feet. I then tied a Multiple Scaffold Knot in each remaining end which should quickly and tightly secure wrists and ankles. The length of each anchoring line should provide slack enough to toss, turn and writhe about, while lacking only inches from being necessary length to free one's self.
The last trick which I literally have up my sleeve. Is a beautifully constructed silken sack the darkest of dark blue just thick enough to ensure only darkness is seen through with a nice little spring loaded clip to lock the drawstrings good and tight. I think as blinding hood, it will be just right.
Ok, made it through the window stealthy as I could the dog barely growled before frantically snatching the treats I tossed all at once, then recognizing me.
I tip toe up the stairs to the kitchen and make my way toward the second stairway the one that leads to the second floor. Careful to skip the squeaky 2nd, 5th and top steps then, sticking to the far left side of the hall, again avoiding known faults in the floor.
I now stand at the foot of the bed taking in the curves of her body's silhouette, I love her so. Her shapely form turned shadow by the faint blue glow eminating from the television, the title screen to the music channel she's left on to drown out the nightly noises of our quaint little town.
Quietly, methodically I get to work, slowly sliding one Scaffold knot over her hand and drawing it tight but, not too tight. Her terrified tugging will cinch it fully. Like a hangman's noose constricts around a condemned neck. I work my way from corner to corner positioning each limb with 1/4" movements as not to wake her. The process goes quicker and easier than I had hoped.
Now for the final step of prep and the first step of either an extraordinarily erotic experience or an utterly epic fail.
Silk pouch scrunched and held widely open I quickly, and to my surprise, smoothly slide it over her head tighten drawstrings and secure with clip.
I promptly step back. Her reaction is slow, much slower than I had imagined, she reaches to remove the hood and realizes she's bound she pick's up one leg then the other after which she lies motionless for a long 5 seconds.
Then, all at once flails and starts screaming.
Shit, the screaming I had not counted on. Fast as I could I grabbed the T.V.'s remote turned the music channel to Metal, increased the volume to match that of her hollering and plop my ass in the chair that's always half covered with clothes, sitting there beside the dresser.
My actions cause her to freeze, then slowly turn her head. She's scanning the room for sounds of a person or person's I deduce.
Then, more flailing, this time no screaming so I lower the volume. Again she takes an audible scan of the room. I'm watching intently, my pulse and mind racing. Vividly imagining the potential steps to follow.
She attempts to sit up. I'm actually a little surprised at how close she gets. She rolls right, then left, both attempts she nearly reaches stomach and face down position but only with one arm awkwardly stretched across her back and her legs crossed. With the animation of a child's temper tantrum she slams all for limbs to the bed and loudly huffs. Again, she's still. I think the panic is giving way to reasoning and troubling thought.
She is wearing a nearly see through night gown I bought at Vicky C's her last birthday.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't erect.
I stand up slowly, grabbing the scissors from atop the dresser as I do. Her head pops up turns to face me and for a sec I swear she's looking right at me.
I say nothing.
Her legs are closed tightly her head still lifted off the bed and in a nervous and obviously scared voice she says,"Who's there? Untie me you Cocksucker!." Again flailing then hollering, " God damn it you let me go! Who are you? What the fuck do you think your gonna do?"
I step to bedside, her hooded head tracks me. Swiftly, harshly, I place my hand over her mouth, she half ass kicks and tries to swing fists. I shake her head a little and place scissor's edge at her throat's base. She stops fighting.
Calmly I let out a long exaggerated "Shhhhhhhhhh", then step to the foot of the bed, admiring how fucking sexy the scene is for a moment. Then I quickly get on the bed straddling her legs just below her knees and coincidentally the hem of her nighty.
She squirms and twists but her legs are locked there below my cock. She cusses me," You son of bitch get off me! Get off!
To which I reply with loud aggressive "Shhh!!" I place the scissors on her knee delicate fabric between blades I cut *snip* and advance onto her thigh, *snip* and a shrap nervous inhale from her, *snip*snip* now half way up thick, creamy white thigh she writhes frantically, with fear and anger in her voice she orders me, "Stop, Stop right now! Damn it!"
I say nothing. I make no noise at all, I simply place the scissors on the other knee *snip*she's thrashing wildly, grunting and moaning as she does. *Snip*snip* her struggling continues. I place the scissors in my back pocket. I grip the nighty on either side of the left slit and *r-i-p* the shock halts her tantrum. The reality of now being fully exposed sets in instantly. Also changing her hostility to humbled begging , "Please, please don't do this."
I couldn't be any harder.
I grab opposite slit and *r-i-p* simultaneously slippin my straddle over her knees pinning now trembling thighs.
She's scared, badly. I'm a bit scared too, because I'm so turned on and she's so fucking hot, I might need to stop before irreparable damage is done while my sick ass is having fun.
I hop of the bed she tracks my moves this time with an unlifted roll of her head. Again, I take a few long seconds to admire my work, her body and the fantasy we're now in.
I sit back in the chair and begin untying my boots. With a shakey voice she ask,"what's going on? What are you doing?"
I make no sound but toss my first boot as to bounce it off her thigh, she quiets. The second boot I toss towards her cooch. It lands decent, toe down heel up the outer nubs of the aggressive treads found at boots heel hanging off bald lips,
applying slight pressure, a discomfort to which her response is a sexy, swift inhale through closed teeth. I undo my belts buckle and begin pulling it loop by loop off my waist. The sound gives way to her head lifting and tipping as she strains to identify any and all noises that pass her lobes.
Folding belt buckle to tip I swing it through the air gently and clap belts loop across supple, sensuous breast's.
She barely flinches and remains sillent.
I do it again, with slightly more speed, straight across little pink nipples, her alabaster skin rapidly reddening two belt width stripes across her lovely, lovely chest.
Quiet, motionless I chuckle a bit internally as I realize this is her protest, play dead and offer me none of the usual pleasure inducing struggle.
We'll see...
Sliding pants and boxer briefs past knees to floor and after shirt is pulled overhead I stand at the ready. I cup her beautiful, bald pussy as a baseball player might adjust his cup slider to steal a base. Then, keeping hand cupped I mildly slap that clam first twice, then twice again, then with a little more velocity and force I slap that bald cunt once...twice she hollers I instantly cover here mouth and continue slapping that box 3...4..5.6mid swing of the 7th I bend two middle fingers at first knuckle planning to rub lips and clit and maybe excite her pussy enough get wet.
Shit, bet its already wet and my two fingers have already started the: plunge in, curl upwards, retreat then rapidly repeat cycles they like so well.
Removing my mouth covering hand, reacquiring belt and the finger fucking now halted.
*slap*slap*
Belt graces each thigh seperatly. Stepping to the foot of the bed I rest folded belt vertically down center of her chest, buckledropping towards taint as if, it too has longed to cup that shaved wet pussy for days, weeks, even months maybe.
I grip her ankles and pull. She slides till arms are lightly pulled against by taunt ropes.
The adjustment leaves her knees skyward, heels dug into matresses end while her taint and it's two fuckable neighbors sit maybe 10 inches from the beds edge.
Sliding the chair to a position directly parallel to that tantalizing twot. I have a seat, place hands on inner thighs with my thumbs I open pussy lips wide and pin them to her thighs
My first thought was to penetrate and tongue fuck her. But, instead I gently made out with her rather large and sensitive clit. Tonguing it, sucking it, licking it till I noticed how wet my face had become. Damn she came. I slap that pussy one mercilessly hard time. She squeels in a pitch that's new to me. Climbing on to the bed, then on to her I quickly, forcefully slap each of tits 4 or 5 times she's wimpering a bit but definitely submissive at this point.
Now I sit straddling her hips my dick flopped on her stomach just below her tits. If not for the slight trembling of her shoulders, telling me she's crying, she'd be motionless.
Her head is sharply twisted to the right, that is til I take hold and guide her chin, positioning it at center. She starts to twist right, I slap left cheek, she twists left, I slap right cheek. Again I grab chin and center it.
She appears to get the point and holds head steady.
Her whimper has turned more to light panting then anything. I take a moment to admire her slightly heaving bosom. Noting that hood is kind of sexy with it nearly black silky sheen contrasting her ivory white skin.
I then firmly place cupped hand over nose and mouth she pauses as if accepting it for a brief moment.
Then, the struggle ensues. She thrashes about, to no avail. I'm planted squarely over her hips, the ropes are doin there job splendidly, hand still firmly on face I lean towards ear and calmy,"SHhhhh, shhh Shhh".
She's out.
She lies there... still... peaceful.
Placing ear to chest, heartbeat's slow, but there. Removing hand reveals shallow but steady breathing rate. Wasting no time I slide my hips between milky thighs, my cock penetrates her still wet pussy and takes a couple slow deliberate strokes, as if lining up a billiards shot pulling the third stroke back till dick's tip is out but softly kissing lips.
Then with all the drive i can muster I ram hard throbbing cock to pussy like I'm trying to pierce steel. The moment pelvic bone collides with the back if those ample thighs, a gasping inhale of breath and she's back.
She's groggy at first, I haven't let up, I make every stroke as long and as hard as I can leaving no gap of time between times in an out that gap.
A dozen or so hate fuck style thrusts and she's alert, squirming and trying to counter the thrusts but, I'm on her like a bull rider. Her movements are limited by the ropes so they become predictable and I easily continue my pelvic assault much to her frustration.
I slow my attack. She slows her defense. I sense it's a break needed by both.
I'm leaned back now, wieght on knees, I press thumb to clit. She shivers a bit, in a counter clockwise motion I circle it. Using force but just enough, careful not to over due it. Occasionally I slip thumb straight over the top of now swollen and hard clit.
She's silently undulating her hips.
Then, as if realizing she had succumb, she's pissed! "Get the fuck off me, you piece of shit! I'll fucking kill you! Untie me mother fuc-KER!" The last syllable sounding unnatural. Shit, if we're being honest a bit demonic.
My response, slap tit... hard, as if bruising was my intent. Then, I grab hold of throat not bothering to center head, not necessary, my grip is good she's gasping already.
I'm repositioning already too.
I've released my grasp of her throat on the verge of pass out and rolled her over to her right. Which realy do the restraints means I've twisted her a bit. Her shoulders lack the slack to roll even a little. Her belly button has made to about the 3 o'clock position. Her hips just make it to verticle and do to the twisted crossing of her legs. I had to slide my outstretched first foot and leg through her legs like stepping through a vertical hole in a chainlink fence.
I'm there now, pretty dick in prettier pussy.
Straddling left thigh, her whimpering again I slap her tit then one after the other I pinch her nipples...hard and pull...hard then, slap the top of the two tittie stack hard, more whimpering, again harder, sniffling alittle coughing, again hard af I throw a quick palm across her cheek, for good measure, on my return swing.
Crying now.
I give her thick ass a hard slap too. Then start pounding the fuck out of her like before strokes as long and as hard as possible with jack rabbit speed and a firm grip on both her shoulder and that top tit. Pulling as much as my cock is drilling.
For whatever reason I'm suddenly aware of the animalistic, primal and somehow sexy sounds filling the room. A chaotic mix of cries, booty clapping, heavy breathing, bed spring creeking, palm slapping flesh cleanly.
Totally fucking hot.... Maybe ya had to be there.
Unintentionally and out of pure pleasure driven passion I blurt out, "mmmm D, Fuck! I'm gonna cum!."
Her body quickly tightens and freezes. I imagine her brain is recoiling, suddenly faced with the notion it's me and has been me all along.
I'd guess her mind is trying to systematically change every second of still freshly traumatizing experience into something acceptable.
I've slowed my pace but, still fucking giving it to her good. I lean forward, loosen The spring loaded drawstring lock and pull hood just high enough to reveal those lucious lips then, kiss her. She's tentative at first. In fractions of a second though, she's convinced and kisses me more passionately, feverishly than ever before.
I pull away from the kiss, "I'm gonna cum D!" I shout through now labored breathe as I remove the hood she blinks a time or two, eyes wide her mouth lunges and locks on mine.
"Oh, shit" I say internally as I feel her Kiegel muscle grip my dick like a python constricting on prey. I hold my cock balls deep. I'm one twitch from cumming when she grabs my bottom lip between her now clenched teeth. Incredible pain as we simultaneously release our lustfull loads. Both our eyes seem to be reflected images of our lover's eyes rolled back in thier head. With a mandatory couple slight tugs from her muscular little cunt and few involuntary twitches of my hips. She releases my now bleeding lip.
I can't say I didn't deserve that yet, still enjoyed it immensely.
I collapse half on half off of her now quivering body. We both roll a bit to straighten her twist.
I'm laying to her side cradling her head with both arms, kissing her temple softly between slightly panting breathes. With out a word she begins sobbing, so many tears, so much convulsing.
"I fucked up... shit...D... I fucked up, I'm sorry...D" I'm stammering, I am starting to panic, "D, talk to me...Are you ok?...Please say something"
And she says....
"How did you know? How did you pull it off? Fuck... I love you!
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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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The Graduation Ceremony
The Graduation Ceremony · First Time · The Graduation Ceremony
I had been a high school teacher for 20 years, and in that time maintained a flawless record of professionalism. As a fit, somewhat charismatic man teaching all senior classes, I had encountered plenty of schoolgirl crushes during my tenure. Never did I even so much as consider, much less succumb, to the temptation of stoking those fires. Then I met her.
Eve was a high school senior in one of my advanced history classes. She had long, naturally blonde hair, played field hockey, and had a defined yet graceful build, striking blue eyes and a doe-like face. At first she was just another student, but a few months into the year, after her eighteenth birthday, she seemed to undergo a noticeable change in her behavior.
She quickly developed a knack for sitting in her front row desk wearing skimpy, loose shorts or skirts that barely reached the bottom of her ass cheeks. Seeming to know exactly how to shift in her seat, she became expert at crossing and uncrossing her legs to reveal the perfect, budding folds nestled within her panties. I did my best to discourage her routines by simply ignoring them, but that only emboldened her. Eventually it was not just difficult to ignore, it was downright impossible. I finally gave up trying to avoid seeing what she so desperately wanted to show me and instead thought maybe by virtue of staring directly at her she would get embarassed and retreat into girlish self-consciousness. But that's not what happened.
Sometimes she pretended to be unaware of my leering eyes as she pulled the leg of her shorts up and subtly adjusted her panties, just enough for me to see a soft, smooth labia peeking out. Of course, I could do little to contain my cock from swelling within my pants, a sight she clearly also enjoyed inducing. She would stare hungrily at my crotch licking her lips unconsciously, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. It was just a game and nothing more I told myself, and certainly not a new one: make the teacher who's old enough to be your dad as horny as possible and prove to yourself that you have sexual power over all men in the process. The only problem was that she was better at playing this game than any student I'd ever had, and the power she had over me in particular was growing every day.
She spent the remainder of her senior year visiting my classroom regularly, sometimes with friends and sometimes not. She made up new and inventive reasons she needed my help with assignments, even though the truth was she was one of the smartest in her class. One day the subject of candy came up while we happened to be alone together in my room after school. We both agreed that white chocolate, in addition to not really being chocolate at all, was also disgusting. Then she added, "I really like white cream, though." I cocked my head in a confused sort of shocked reaction. "Especially when you have to lick it and suck it out... I love it." I was unashamedly intrigued by her candor. Of course she knew exactly what she was saying, and doing to me for that matter. After all, she was an intelligent, beautifully blossoming woman. Meanwhile she was turning me, a 44-year-old married man, into putty in her hands- hands I was desperate to feel wrapped around the base of my dick, jerking semen into her mouth. A couple of her friends came into the room, relieveing me of having to respond with words, but she could plainly see that my hardening cock had already responded.
When Spring arrived she had to miss a week of school for a field hockey tournament. I found myself staring at her empty desk, and instead of being relieved that I didn't have to be distracted by her, envisioning her sliding her skirt up around her waist, spreading her legs and rubbing her clit as she moaned and brought herself to orgasm in front of the whole class. I knew I had a problem, and if she had been trying to drive me insane- it was clearly working. I laid awake almost every night thinking of her, jerking off and whispering her name.
A couple of months later, graduation was on the horizon, and teasing me continued to be her favorite pastime. How the other students didn't notice is still a mystery, but I was treated to almost daily glimpses of her pussy lips and ass, and she had even taken to going braless so that I could see her perky, puffy nipples poking through the thin tank tops she always wore. Part of me wanted the end of the year to come as quickly as possible and to be done with the constant, daily torture of temptation that Eve had brought into my life. Then there was part of me that felt like tearing her clothes off and stretching her holes until she screamed. That was the other thing she seemed to understand instinctively, that she was toying with the emotions of a grown man who had a big, fat cock that was aching to fill her pussy with cum.
Perhaps it wasn't all instinct, since she had blatantly been studying my bulge every chance she got. Sometimes I wondered if I was just imagining it, but then there were moments where she revealed her undeniable inner-slut. One day she caught a glimpse of the outline of my cockhead, no doubt thanks to whatever show she was putting on in the front row. She looked around the room and saw everyone occupied with an assignment, then stared directly at me while she placed her water bottle on her desk. She slid first the tip of the bottle in and out of her mouth, then ended up taking about half its length into her throat, all the while continuing to stare into my eyes.
I was mesmerized, but also confused since I had overheard a couple different guys she dated complaining that she was a "tease", and that they "couldn't even get a fucking blowjob out of her." Yet, there she was, simulating the act. It was only about 5 seconds, not long enough for anyone other than me to notice, but long enough to make my cock stretch out along the length of my thigh with pulsating agony.
Finally, the end of the schoolyear came, but not before I got roped into volunteering with the graduation ceremony. Against my better judgment, I had also agreed to giving her and a couple other students a ride to the rehearsal. I told myself, if I could just get through the next couple days, I could spend the Summer trying to bleach the memory of her from my mind.
When I pulled up Eve sprang from the front door of her typically suburban house and skipped across the manicured lawn wearing a trademark pair of her all-too-revealing shorts. She also made sure to drop her phone in the grass before turning needlessly around and bending over to pick it up so I could see her perfect ass cheeks. She flung herself into the front seat with a "Hi! Thanks for the ride!" and went on to explain that it was only her that actually needed a ride (her parents were both using their cars), and that she could get a ride home with one of her friends.
"That's fine. But I thought you had a car- a pretty nice one if I recall," I said inquisitively.
"Oh, yeah...it's like, not working right. I think something's wrong with it." I watched her out of the corner of my eye tuck a strand of her golden hair behind her ear.
"Oh, well that's good, actually," I said as I pulled out of the drive. "Because- I was actually planning on kidnapping you and taking you out to the woods." I couldn't believe my own ears as the words spewed forth. It was as if the primal part of my personality, which had been dreaming of doing exactly such a thing to her, had suddenly taken over. I glanced over expecting to be met with a look of disgust, but instead she was smiling at me, beaming in fact, from ear to ear. I smiled back reflexively and added, somewhat awkwardly, "That was a joke, by the way."
"Oh...okay," she said as she giggled and stared straight ahead. I detected a twinge of disappointment in her voice. Suddenly I had encountered yet another twist, one which actually made me feel guilty. But it was not for wanting to fuck her and leave her whimpering and covered in my semen. In fact, it was for seeming to dismiss this idea from her mind immediately after I had been the one to insinuate it.
I was trying to redirect her attention, but, feeling like I'd hurt her feelings, I ended up telling her what a special student she really had been to me, and how much I wanted to keep in touch after she graduated, or maybe even see her before she left for college... "Okay, like graduation night? Do you want to see me then?" she asked with a hint of girlish hope. "Like tomorrow night?"
"What do you mean?" I replied. "Like see you where?" I could feel my heart racing, barely able to remember where I was supposed to be driving. "At graduation?"
"No, like after that."
"Ok, where?"
She sang the words "I don't know" in a teasing melody. "Wherever you're gonna be... I guess." At that moment our eyes locked, and any secrets or doubts about what the other had in mind were completely washed away.
"Ok, then," I said. "Let me figure that out and I'll let you know."
The rest of the car ride was mostly awkward silence, curtailed by the palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air. Whatever feelings of guilt and loyalty bubbling to the surface of my mind were stifled and drowned out by the intoxicating thought of Eve's body. I stared at her long, tan legs and her hard nipples, only to feel her eyes gazing at my swelling crotch. What am I doing? I thought. Now I was in a position of either following through or coming off like a scared little boy to her. I kept telling myself the old adage that in the end it's the things we never did that we regret the most.
The next day was the ceremony itself, and I used the excuse of being a graduation volunteer to work out the logistics of my plan. A suite in one of the nicest hotels in town, all the necessary lies put in place, and all my tracks covered. My wife thought I was hanging out one last time with an old (nonexistant) colleague who was (conveniently) moving out of town. Yet, despite our conversation from the previous day, I was fully prepared for her not to show up. There was always the possibility that it had been nothing more than a game to her all along.
At the graduation she seemed aloof, not even looking my way. I was hesitant to find her afterwards, but soon saw her taking the typical post-graduation pictures with her mom, dad, and younger brother. She smiled nervously and waved me over, to which I complied. The last thing I wanted was to appear uncomfortable or suspicious, especially around her parents (who I was actually a couple of years older than). "Hey, Mr. H! Dad, take a picture of us." Her dad, clean-cut and of a slightly smaller build than me, smiled and shook my hand as her mom told me how much they'd heard about me- all good things of course- and how thankful they were for her to have had a teacher like me. After the photo, I casually slipped Eve the key card to the hotel, wrapped in a note with only the room number written on it. I figured if she was brave enough to actually go through with this, she was capable of getting herself there.
I tried to act as natural and disinterested as possible as we conversed. The truth was, I was imagining her mom, who seemed herself to be an older version of Eve, dropping to her knees right there in front of everyone gathered outside, undoing my pants and pulling my cock out with a smile on her face, then eagerly gagging repeatedly on it. I smiled curteously at her dad and imagined him resting a forearm on my shoulder, looking down at his wife and saying, "There she goes...God, you love that cock in your mouth don't you, honey! She's one helluva cocksucker, man..." Meanwhile I could see Eve rolling her eyes and folding her arms in a huff, yelling "Mom! That's for me!" Then it occured to me that if all went according to plan, my now former student would be the one on her knees gagging on my cock.
I searched Eve for the faintest glance; any indication she was still planning to follow through. "Oh, don't forget guys I'm going to that graduation party and then spending the night with Maya tonight." Her parents nodded in understanding, and so did I. As I walked across the parking lot to my car I just kept thinking to myself, Jesus, I'm going to hell.
I'd been at the hotel for an hour when I started to wonder if she was actually coming. I assumed she would in fact go to whatever party she mentioned, but my hope was that at any minute she would come through the door to the suite. After another hour had passed I had recreated every possible scenario. She was so horny she saw one of her ex-boyfriends and finally put out, or maybe she was busy getting every graduating senior on the football team's cock shoved into her. Or, maybe she just chickened out. Either way, the thought of her being gangfucked made me swell until the length of my shaft was hard against my thigh.
I stripped my clothes off and stood completely naked in the middle of the room, gazing down at my aching dick, stroking it with one hand and craddling my balls with the other. I sat down on the couch and slowly massaged my shaft, first with one hand, then with two. As I stroked rhythmically I could see myself in a full length mirror directly opposite of where I sat, and saw a man who wasn't in half bad shape, especially for his age. Jerking off while staring only at myself was something I had never tried, but even so I couldn't help imagining the back of Eve's head bobbing up and down while she kneeled between my legs, and the feeling of her soft, young lips slurping precum from my cock. I became so enthralled that I didn't even hear the key card slide in, or realize the door was opening before it was too late.
"Oh fuck," a familiar voice said. As the door closed behind her, Eve stood motionless, staring directly at my erect cock. Then, slowly, her eyes moved over the rest of my body and finally around the room. "Wow. That's um...wow, that's..." she almost mumbled as she walked towards me, my cock resting against my stomach, still throbbing on the verge of orgasm. "This is a really nice room," she almost whispered, as if her parents were sleeping in the next room. I took a deep breath as she slipped effortlessly out of her tank top and covered her breasts with false modesty, biting a finger nail and smiling mischievously as she did. She turned around and bent over as she slid her sweatshorts down, revealing her bare ass with no panties. She stood and turned to me as I sat on the edge of the couch, my cock hanging heavily. "That looks nice, too..." She walked nervously closer, looking directly into my eyes as I touched her perfect skin for the first time, caressing her hips and drawing her closer.
Her aroma was intoxicating, like peaches and strawberries, and feeling the softness of her torso across my lips was like an out of body experience. My hands cupped her ass, tracing the outline of its perfection and weighing each ass cheek before squeezing and gripping them hard. She squeeled as I began sucking and licking her nipples, which her body responded to with a quivering of her pussy that made her legs tremble.
My adrenaline rushed as I licked my way down her defined belly, into a small strip of blonde pubic hair, then slid my tongue across her warm, wet slit. Her juices immediately spilled across my chin, dripping onto my chest as her breathing became sporatic and sharp. I ran my tongue up against her clit over and over, flicking it and then sucking it hard, slamming her against my face. She let out a long moan and dug her nails into my shoulders as her body began convulsing uncontrollably. I then gently slid my finger as deep as I could inside her, which was not very far. Her velvet walls tightened as I continued sucking her clit, realizing for the first time, just as her pussy began creaming heavily on my face, that she was actually a virgin.
I lapped up her sweetness until she couldn't take it anymore, and it occurred to me as she stood panting with my arms around her waist that I had yet to even kiss her despite having her juices all over my face. "Oh my god," she said as I kissed her belly and hips. "I've never had one like that before. I mean, no one ever has...only I have, but not like that...holy shit." I finally stood up and pulled her against me, my cock stretching up against her sternum. I stroked her soft, golden hair and gently touched her cheek, drawing her face upward as I pressed my lips against hers and slid my tongue into her mouth. She kissed me back, opening her mouth and letting me glide my tongue against hers. "Do you like tasting your pussy on my mouth?" I asked her after a few minutes of exploring her mouth, to which she simply nodded obediently and licked her lips with her eyes closed. I kissed her again, harder this time, and gripped a fistful of her hair. Without warning she was pulled down to her knees, where I let my cock rest on her upturned face. A bead of precum dripped onto her forehead. "Have you ever felt a man's cock on your face?" She shook her head slightly. "Do you like it?" She nodded with embrassment. "Do you know what I want you to do now?" I said as I wrapped my hand around her delicate throat.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"And what's that?"
"To...suck..." she trailed off as her mouth widened and her lips wrapped tightly around the head of my cock, looking up at me for approval.
"That's correct, Eve. Very good," I said, as if she had gotten a question right in class. It was clear she didn't have much experience, but her instincts soon took over. She began opening her throat to make more of my veiny, muscular organ disappear. After several minutes of guiding her and staring into her blue eyes, I said, "Remember when you told me how much you love that white cream?" I slid my cock from her mouth and presented my balls, which she greedily licked and began sucking like she had been practicing for this moment. "Mmmhmmm," she moaned, then stopped and looked up at me. "Yes, Daddy." As she went back to sucking my balls I guided her hand to my spit covered cock. Hearing her call me "Daddy" was enough to make me blow my load by itself, but I fought back the urge.
She worked my shaft with one hand and began rubbing her clit with the other. I shoved my cock back into her mouth and held her head in place, thrusting until my balls were audibly slapping against her wet chin. I felt my semen beginning to surge, begging for release. "I'm gonna cum, baby..." Moaning and gagging, she nodded in approval as I pulled my shaft from her mouth and began spurting. "Open wide for Daddy." She allowed her mouth to catch as many thick jets of cum as she could, while it continued streaking across her face and lips. She never once broke eye contact with me, licking her lips and giggling as my warm semen continued dripping into her open mouth. "Mmm. Thank you, Daddy," she said as I squeezed the last few drops into her mouth and watched her swallow what she had collected. Then I watched her open wide to show me what a good girl she was.
"God you look so beautiful," was all I could think to say. And she did, looking up at me with my cum all over her face. Just the sight alone was enough to keep my cock hard as she continued sucking the head and teasingly biting it.
"Thank you," she laughed. "I bet you really wanna kiss me now," she said sarcastically with a wink. But I pulled her up to me without a second thought and leaned over, kissing her passionately and tasting my salty, acrid semen on her lips and tongue.
"Mmmm, that's so hot," she whispered.
"Yeah?" I replied. "You know what's really hot? Losing your virginity with cum on your face, baby." She looked suddenly embarassed.
"Wait. How did you know?" She asked.
"Honey, it's not that hard to tell," I said. "Your cherry's obviously never been popped...but we can fix that." She had a nervous expression as I took her hand and walked her to the king sized bed.
"I'm a little scared," she said, to which I responded by turning her around and grabbing her firmly by the throat without squeezing her windpipe. "Good," I said, pushing her onto her back. Her legs fell open to reveal her perfectly shaped, firm pussy lips, moist and slightly parted. I kneeled between them as she propped herself on her elbows and watched me rubbing my cock just inches from her clit. She moaned and grunted with excitement, running her hands across her breasts as I moved closer and gently stroked the head of my cock up and down against her wet slit.
As I began pushing against her I could feel her body and hips pushing back, and the resistance of her tight pussy. I jacked my cock vigorously, watching the tip of my head parting her lips and then pressed harder. "Mmmm is it too big? I'm so scared..." I pushed it in as far as I could, until my cock bowed against her unbroken hymen.
"Listen," I said, "once I do this there's no going back..." she nodded with her mouth open and squeezed her nipples. "I'll be as gentle as I can, but I'm going to do whatever I want to you, and make you do whatever I want you to..." Considering I'd already blasted one load on her face, it hardly needed to be said, but she was, if only for a few remaining seconds, still a virgin. I tickled her clit with my thumb, producing a spasm of moisture around my cock.
"Yes, sir. Use me, Daddy. Please," she whimpered. "I want it so bad..." I shoved as hard as I could, both of us watching my cock disappear into her pussy as her hymen gave way to the warm rush of her inner walls. I began working it in and out, feeling the vice-like grip of her pussy lips as I tunneled deeper. "Owwwww...oh god! No no no...oh, yes. Are you fucking me, Daddy?" "Yes, baby." "Is this what fucking is...Daddy?" Her moans began rhythmically pulsating with the thrusting of my cock. I was making short quick strokes, pulling it almost all the way out and then pushing slightly deeper with each repetition.
"You're doing it, baby. You're fucking Daddy like a good girl." She looked at me full of wonder and awe, her eyes widening and squinting with my quickening pace. "It feels so big. You're opening me up." I put my hand behind her head and yanked her hair while I drilled even deeper into her. Her gutteral vocalizations mixed with the sound of her gushing pussy, and I began to see blood on the shaft of my cock. She saw it too.
"Am I ok? That's normal right?"
"Yes, baby, I just broke your hymen. You've been such a good girl saving it for me," I grunted, continuing to pound her. "I know. I really was saving it for you, I mean it, Mr. H." "Good girl." The fact that she was still calling me Mr.H made it hard to resist fucking her as hard as I could as I worked it in. "Am I a woman now, Daddy?" "Oh, yes. Daddy is definitely making a woman out of you." "I feel like you're widening my hips every time you push it deep." I began fucking her slightly faster until I could feel my balls slapping steadily against her asshole as she moaned with pain and pleasure.
She instinctively began rubbing her clit, which made her pussy tighten even more around my cock. Her eyes rolled back as her legs quivered and shook, and the warmth of moisture welling up from her pussy engulfed my cock in a flood. It made a sucking sound as I pulled out of her and slapped my cock against her clit, the juice beginning to erupt. "Mmmm, a squirter. Even better, baby." She spread her lips with both hands to expose her clit as I continued rubbing my head against it and slapping it, making her juices spray out of her "OH FUCK!" She began in a high pitched, long wail that sounded like she was trying to hit a note she couldn't reach. "Ohhhhhhhh fuuuuuccck!"
Her pussy began spouting fluid all over my cock, balls, chest, and legs. I leaned down and let it shoot in spurts onto my face and into my mouth, sucking her pussy as she laughed hysterically and grabbed my the back of my neck to shove my tongue into her. Then, after a few minutes of lapping up as much of her cream as I could, as if possessed, she slid down under me while I lay prone and took my soaked cock in her mouth. I felt her hands grip my ass begging me to fuck her mouth while I lay on top of her, which she could hardly take.
Gagging, she pulled my cock out and sucked on my balls, this time using her tongue to reach the base, just an inch from my asshole. I quickly turned around so that I was kneeling directly over her face, my balls never leaving her mouth while she obediently continued sucking, and then reached down between her legs and caressed her clit with one hand while rubbing my cock against her breasts and nipples with the other. I felt her tongue lashing against my asshole and moved lower so she could get to it more easily. She pulled my cheeks apart and rammed her tongue up my ass as far as it would go. "Oh, baby, Daddy likes that." I pulled her legs up so that i could get my face between them, then kept pulling until her little asshole was exposed. I plunged my tongue into it as she licked me, beginning to groan loudly. I was actually amazed by the flexibility of her body and how easily she could be bent into such a compromising position. She continued rimming me as I penetrated my tongue into her ass, alternating between twirling it around in little circles and jabbing it in into her hole.
The animal-like sounds she made urged me on. My cock throbbed against her torso, hungry to be stuffed back into her, so I finally climbed off and flipped her over. I pulled her effortlessly towards me and propped her ass in the air, her asshole still glistening with my spit. I rubbed my cock between her lips and shoved it back into her pussy. Having never experienced getting fucked from behind, I wanted her to know what it was like.
Her face still had remnants of cum on it as she closed her eyes and let me rail her, and her wet asshole looked as delicious as it tasted. I pressed my index finger against her ass as I continued throttling her from behind, then ever so gently slid it into her anus. She only fucked back harder. It was not as tight as I had thought it would be, so it didn't take me long to get two fingers in, still penetrating her pussy with my cock.
"Yeah- do it," she said, and I wasn't sure what she meant by those words, but part of me didn't care. I pulled my cock out of her pussy and thrust it against her asshole, spitting on it, then forcing my head into her until it disappeared. She grunted in a low, primal moan and pushed her hand against my thigh, then pounded it with her fist as I slid deeper into her. She screamed as I began fucking her ass with half my cock. She cursed and said a lot of things, some of which I could barely understand, but she never said "no" the entire time I was impaling her.
It was hard to believe she'd never taken a cock in the ass before, considering the way she was able to ride my dick. She would later tell me that she had resisted penetrating her pussy, but not her ass, but that she'd only managed to get two fingers in- nowhere near as fat or as long as my cock. But I was definitely thankful for her having had some type of practice.
I started to consider where to shoot my next load of cum as my testicles began getting tense. As they slapped repeatedly against her pussy, I had an idea. I held my ballsack out of the way with one hand and started fingering her pussy with the other. Shoving two fingers into her, alternating between my cock thrusting into her ass. I continued until I had hammered all resistance out of her and she seemed to go completely limp.
She was motionless, and for a moment I thought she had passed out, but then she looked as if she had simply broken. Tears streamed down her face as she began howling like a wounded animal. I stuffed her face into the pillow to muffle her cries and then fucked her even faster and harder. She sobbed uncontrollably, overwhelmed with a flood of emotions. But she kept bucking and pushing herself against me, begging me not to stop. "Yes! Fucking ruin me!" She screamed. "Daddy, you're fucking my ass, Daddy! Are you fucking me in my little ass? Oh my god, Daddy, I'm your slut...I'm Daddy's slut, I'm Daddy's slut..." Then she became almost violent and grunted through her teeth. "Use my ass! Use me! Fill my asshole with your cum, please, sir...Do it Daddy!" I could feel her pussy beginning to gush and squirt as she orgasmed intensely. My balls released a flood of cum, spurting deep inside of her ass at the exact same moment. "Oh my god I feel it...I'm still cumming!" She buried her face in the pillow and screamed again for what seemd like several minutes. I watched her asshole constricting around my shaft as streams of milky cum oozed out of it, then pulled out in one quick motion as she grunted, the rest of my load spilling from her puckering asshole and dripping down over her swollen pussy lips. She stayed on all fours panting for several moments, seemingly afraid to move. I simply sat back and admired the view.
Neither of us complicated anything with awkward conversation as we laid side by side, until she finally just said, "Thank you. I've been wanting that for a while."
"You're welcome. And so have I, so thank you, too. I hope I didn't hurt you."
She smiled. "No. It was great...I'll probably never be hurt so good again, actually." She sighed and ran her finger along my aching cock, then slid herself down and began kissing it, then licking it, then sucking the head as if it were soothing to her. A few minutes later she was fast asleep, my cock still in her mouth. I stroked her smooth, silky hair and drifted off.
In the morning I awoke to the sensation of her sucking the head of my cock and stroking me, semi-flacid. As I grew harder within her mouth, she bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically, wrapping her hand around my balls and raising them to where she could just barely graze them with her tongue while she shoved me down her throat.
I could see the first rays of sun peeping through the windows. I stroked her head gently. It was like a dream. Here I was, watching a beautiful sunrise while a beautiful girl, one day of high school, sucked my cock like her life depended on it. I relaxed, feeling the swell of what was sure to be another huge orgasm surging from my testicles, and then emptied any cum that could possibly be left in them into her mouth. I spurted in steady, thin streams against the back of her throat and could feel her sucking and swallowing my cum, humming in approval as she did. After she had sucked every last drop that could be squeezed from my head, she giggled and thanked me for breakfast, then told me she wished she could cum again but her pussy was wrecked and would probably need some rest. "I'm sure I'll be thinking about how good you taste next time I touch myself, though," she said with a laugh.
After we parted ways, the summer brought no more encounters with Eve. I did my best to go on with my life and play the part of faithful husband, telling myself my lustful vices had all been satisfied. It was a secret I sinply had to keep to myself, and hope that Eve did the same.
Once she was off at college, she broke the months of silence with a "Hi" text followed by a picture of her perfect, and now hairless, pussy lips. I responded in kind with dick pics and eventually short videos of me cumming on some of the pics she had sent. Our exchange went on for some months until our interactions waned and she eventually quit texting, which I assumed meant she had finally gotten a serious boyfriend. For all intents and purposes, it was over. Or so I thought. We both had gotten what we wanted, even if only for one night. Now all I had to do was live with it.
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