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ebonylovesivory: WHITE GENTLEMEN AND EUROPEAN TOURISTS ONLY Are you a white (ivory) gentleman who dreams of experiencing paradise with a young, sexy, beautiful teenage ebony girl? Of course you have - most white guys actually do! That is why you are reading my profile. So relax and read on; you are on the right page.   I am a beautiful and sexy, high-class 19 y.o. ebony girl who loves sex and enjoys nothing more than spending unrushed, quality time with my lover and seeing him 100% satisfied.   I am exclusive, private, honest, trustworthy, respectful and discreet, with a friendly and loving personality. Most importantly, though, I am very focused on discretion, hygiene and safety, and I know this is also important to you.   In terms of my services, please note the following: - I specialise exclusively in making the dreams and fantasies of generous white gentlemen come true. I prefer mature-aged gentlemen with sufficient money. - If you are a true gentleman with excellent, old-fashioned manners and treat me with kindness and respect, then there is very little that I will not do for you to ensure that you are 100% satisfied. - I also specifically cater for overseas tourists who want a young and beautiful local girl to be their travel companion. Your trip to our beautiful country with me by your side will be the most memorable of your life! - My fees are not negotiable. Please don't make things awkward by trying to negotiate. You get what you pay for, and a premier service with an upper-class young girl may cost a little more. In return I will give you what you want, and you give me what I ask. - With discretion in mind, I prefer an outcall to a neutral venue that you arrange. I can also host if that is what you prefer.   To discuss your wishes and requirements and my specific services and fees in more detail and to book an appointment, please feel free to message me - WhatsApp preferred. Love Ebony
11 Months Ago
charliecumboi: Looking to find a bunch of dudes with big cocks that would be interested in tag teaming my clean white sloppy ass Bear back of course and throat fuck me double and triple penetration I want to be your cum slut if someone wanted to film it that would be great I very Deep greedy ass Shoot me a text or whatever
6 Months Ago
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9 Months Ago
ashton187: Locals by the lake that lake that like to partake
8 Months Ago
BigKink69: Headed to lake keowee my spot on the lake near Seneca anybody want to join
7 Months Ago
Riri80: We are an old and mature couple in Jakarta, Indonesia. I am currently 42 years old and husband 48. My posture is a bit chubby but clean. Light yellow skin and sweet face. My bra is size 38D. I am an aggressive woman with a high and wild libido. My weakness is when I see and hold a man's hard penis. My favorite sex position is WOT. It is possible that if my heart feels comfortable and comfortable, I can have fun doing MMF and FFM threesomes, foursomes, swingers and gangbang. My husband is of medium stature and slightly tan skin. Her husband's libido is also very high and he has a tendency to be more lustful and more passionate when communicating and having sex with white/yellow women who are older than him aka MILF. My husband doesn't like skinny women. He is more lust with women with medium or slightly fat stature and has wild and aggressive sexual fantasies and is also very noisy during sex. If anyone wants to be analysed, it is preferable. My husband's genitals is a bit crooked.
2 Years Ago
oursecret470: I am a Masterful orally gifted pussy and ass eater. Long Gifted tongue that never tires, in the south Atl. GA. USA Area. I am mixed raced (Native, Black, White, and Puerto Rican). Very sexually open minded. If interested hit me up. oursecret470@hotmail.com
8 Months Ago
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12 Years Ago
chummybear2014: Athletic‚ outgoing with a great sense of humor. Just like a cuddly teddy bear.
56 Years Ago
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56 Years Ago
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10 Years Ago
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3 Years Ago
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1 Year Ago
charliecumboi: Message me, I really wanna hear from.Maybe I can get Ask fucking public and I really mean that i'm Live in South Dakota.My name is charli want. Some serious a** f****** stretching balls of balls of bear back.F****** my a** pulling out and I'm coming down.My throat repeatedly
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6 Months Ago

White-Bear-Lake Mature Women MN USA

The Facesitting Bar The Facesitting Bar · BDSM · n the wintery sunlight of the next morning, the thrill of the Facesitting bar seemed like a distance memory. Natalie waited nervously at the park, perched on the wall in her black puffer jacket, blue jeans and trainers. Her nerves jangled as Jake approached, unable to believe what they had done together the night before. "Yes, it really happened," Jake smiled, unwrapping his scarf to reveal the depiction of a female bum padlocked around his neck. "You're still wearing it?" Natalie grinned, she seemed to take it as a compliment. "That's how far my hacksaw got last night," Jake replied, pointing to a slight scratch on one of the heavy steel links. "The key..." she whispered. "...is at your flat, yes I know." Natalie looked younger without the makeup of the day before, and the pop socks, ponytail and freckles gave her air at odds with Jake's memory from the bar. As Jake's attention turned to her jean covered hips, Natalie leaned to the side, lifting one cheek to reveal the crushed teddy bear from the bar. "You left it when we kissed last night," she whispered. "I see you kept it company." Natalie nodded, she could feel herself blushing, at least Jake didn't know that the small bear had spent the night inside her nightie. She rolled her hips back down, flattening the small bear once more. "Fuck, Nat," Jake breathed, his erection caught up in his designer jeans, "That bear seems to act like a voodoo doll." Natalie smiled. If only that had been true last night. She swung her pop socks and trainers innocently against the wall, as both the crushed bear and Jake's mind performed imaginary oral sex beneath her tightly stitched up jeans. "Let's walk," Jake insisted, taking Natalie's slim hand and pulling her to her feet. Their lips came close, but both were unsure what to do. They smiled shyly as Jake rescued the small bear from the wall only to discover that the Natalie had padlocked a small chain around its neck too. "That's cute," Jake laughed. He looked back up at Natalie who was now running a small silver key between her discretely glossed lips. "Is that my key? Jake asked. Natalie grinned provocatively as she dropped the key inside the front of her jeans. "I guess we both need to keep you close," Jake whispered, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her into his body as they kissed. He looked back at the bear with a shake of his head and laughed. Its tiny neck was crushed by the short chain that she had wrapped tightly around three times and padlocked in place. "You're a dangerous woman, Natalie." "He tried to resist me," she replied in a breathless whisper. "Did he?" Jake smiled, "And now his key is..." "Gone," she mouthed as she stole the bear from Jake's grip and stuffed it headfirst into the front pocket of her jeans. "Not helpful, Nat," he winced, adjusting his entangled erection while staring distractedly at the padded feet protruding helplessly from Natalie's tight jeans. "Would you like me to tell you what's he's doing in there?" she teased, watching Jake's lips closely in the hope of another kiss. "Stop it Nat!" Natalie just giggled as he took her hand and led her through the park. * Jake and Natalie sat down to eat at the café, but the conversation kept pausing as they watched each other, memories of the night before playing out through their eyes. Jake pulled his stool closer, studying her expression as they kissed. He slid his hand up her leg and squeezed it down between her warm denim covered thighs. "I can't stop thinking about yesterday," he whispered. "There's so much more I could do to you next time," she replied. "And you look so innocent..." She shook her head with waves of blow-dried brown hair, "I'm not." Jake pushed deeper between her thighs until he touched the bear's crush nose that just peeked out from beneath her butt. "I should report you to Amnesty," he whispered, "Bear cruelty." "I'll do a prisoner exchange," Natalie breathed, her glossed lips twitching. "You want to condemn me to being trapped, crushed and pleading for breath?" Jake mouthed the words slowly, watching the effect they were having on her body and her slowly blinking blue eyes. "You'll become part of me..." Natalie could almost feel his warm breath on her naked vagina. "I won't be able to kiss your lips from down there." "Oh yes, you will." Jake kissed her again, a strange confidence was brimming in her lust filled eyes. Her lips were parted and her breathing heavy with soft shrill moans. Natalie raised her eyebrows and trembled as she touched her own lips. "Yeah, I am kind of jealous of the bear," Jake smiled. "He has only one purpose in life," Natalie mouthed, thrusting her hips against the bear. "And that will be my life?" "Until I release you... which I may never do," Natalie could feel her whole body lighting up as she wrapped her hands around Jake's wrist and squeezed her legs together to ensure that Jake's hand couldn't escape from between her thighs. * Jake and Natalie were the first people to arrive at the Facesitting bar. Natalie once again waited until Jake was safely inside and the heavy metal door had clanked closed behind him. She knew he would be waiting for her, the bar having a reputation of persuading guys not to back out from their female serving obligations. The curvy blonde woman again greeted Jake. "Oh, its 'Natalie's guest'," she smiled, her large thighs curving out from beneath a white mini rara skirt only slightly less intimidating that the leather she wore the night before. "It's Jake," Jake replied, hoping her nickname for him might change. "I think it's, Natalie's 'bitch'!" the woman exclaimed, seeing the chain and plaque still firmly padlocked around his neck, "Now why would Natalie be mean enough to keep you in that chain?" "Too busy being wined, dined and spoilt?" Jake suggested. "No. Girls usually like that," the woman replied, "Maybe you didn't give her want she wanted?" "She got what she wanted," Jake smiled smugly. The woman rolled her eyes. Arrogant men didn't always fare too well in her bar, "You know, we have a special box in the bar for unwanted keys," she smiled, taking slipping her hand around Jake's chain, "It's called the bin." Jake climbed into the box, his head tilting slightly forward on the shaped foam, as he waited for the curvy woman to close his lid. Once again, she locked it with the magical key that appeared and disappeared from between her breasts. "Shall I teach you how to serve?" she asked. The voluptuous woman placed one foot either side of his head and rocked her hips to the slow rhythm in her head as she sat down. Her skirt was so short that Jake's face slipped straight beneath it, to be met with her warm satin panties. The room fell quiet as his mumbled words and breath were lost to the world beneath. She slid backward to reveal dazed eyes, "Lick," she whispered. Completely intimidated by her position, he followed her instructions precisely, pushing out his tongue, touching and flicking as she directed. Slower, faster, he followed exactly as the moans above him grew louder and the woman's body trembled until she climaxed. Wow, Natalie hadn't reacted like that and it felt wonderful to be part of such genuine delight. He wanted to look up and enjoy the moment with her, but her large thighs closed on him like a privacy screen. "Honour Natalie like that," she breathed, "and maybe I'll get my chain back." * Jake felt his box move and the lights in the bar shine down into his eyes. Again, he gasped, both thrilled and terrified, totally vulnerable to whoever was waiting for him in the bar. Within seconds everything went black as he was plunged back into the silk and flesh underworld. Natalie's soft curves had a way of sealing in completely as she sunk down lovingly on to his face. "Nat?" he mouthed silently, nothing more than a gentle vibration through her flesh. He was now the bear, effectively an inanimate object until she let him go. She shifted slightly, but only to ease her lingerie to the side so he could slide further between her cheeks. She was teasing him, tensing and releasing her glute muscles, twisting his face into strange shapes. She seemed to now have him where she wanted him, and she relaxed her body to settle down even closer. Finally, she shuffled back and opened her legs a little so see Jake's blinking eyes looked up from between her warm thighs. She leaned forward, long dark hair hanging down over her shiny blue dress. "Do you like my new dress?" she whispered excitedly, "And my new panties..." Jake grinned; her excitement was contagious. "Don't we fit well?" she beamed, "Your nose just there!" The sultry and sensual woman of that morning had bust into life. Jake stretched out his tongue, catching the seam of her white silk lingerie and exploring her shaved crotch inside. He flicked up as the curvy woman had instructed, drawing a cry of delight from Natalie. He repeated his move until Natalie tried to slow her growing arousal by sliding forward and sitting bolt upright on his face. She glanced down at the frantic moans beneath her and lifted herself up break the flesh seal between them, "Sorry," she whispered huskily, sliding back to reveal one of Jake's eyes blinking up between her thighs, "Do that thing you did again..." She spread her legs to let Jake run his tongue across her vagina. She leaned forward to feel his lips against her. Alone in the bar, she pushed herself into him, willing him deeper and closer as she climaxed. Her whole body was on a high, her glutes, her thighs and core muscles gently releasing and floating down to meld with Jake's face. She gently sipped at her cocktail as she tried to stop her body from trembling. She was infatuated by Jake and the amazing high he had given her. She shifted slightly and cracked open her thighs to free his lips. "I can't see you, Nat," Jake panted, again wanting to share the moment with the woman. "Blinded by my beaty," Natalie giggled. She sipped her drink again and waited for a few minutes before exclaiming in a hushed whispered, "Wow, look at that!" "What? Where?" She giggled silently. This was so much fun! * An hour later and Natalie still hadn't moved. She had pulled her dress down over her thighs, leaving Jake inside a hot and sultry cavern. He was desperately trying to obey her command of giving her one thousand kisses, but every time she moved or talked to him, he lost count and had to start again. Natalie wasn't the only one sexually exhausted. Jake's cock was aching from repeated masturbation and his damp tissues did little as he blindly tried to wipe himself clean inside his box. He had to break this woman's spell before he lost control completely. He fumbled to button up his jeans and attempted to reason with the sex bunny on his face. "Natalie?" he panted, fittingly using the full name for the woman who could control his world with just a flick of her hips, "Can I take you to dinner?" "What about the prisoner swap?" she smouldered, "You sacrificed yourself for the bear." "I'll go down on you at the restaurant," Jake pleaded, unable not to touch himself again as he moaned desperately into her immovable body. Natalie pulled back her dress, widened her legs and grinned self-consciously through perfect white teeth, "I just can't stop shaking." "Me too." "I've had too many cocktails." "Let me spoil you some more, Nat." "Can I shower first?" she asked timidly, "I'm a little...wet." She stood up and eased her dress back into place around her glowing thighs. She felt dizzy, steadying herself on the box as she crouched down to kiss him. She wobbled back on to her feet and again pulled the pesky blue fabric back down over her thighs. She hiccupped, giggled and slinked away. * Jake felt his box roll back through the wall and back into the room with the curvy and increasingly amorous blonde. "Natalie's guest," she smiled. "Thanks for the lesson," Jake replied. "So, we have a happy and satisfied Natalie?" she asked. "Oh yeah," Jake replied smugly. "Is that why she's given instructions for you to stay locked up in your box?" "What?" The woman read from her phone, "Natalie box locked. Await further instructions." "What? Why?" Jake cried in disbelief. He pointlessly tried to prise open his lid, stopping only when the short white skirt sat down on the edge of his box. "Natalie wants you to wait for her," the woman whispered, edging closer, her thigh warm against his cheek, "Do you really want to disappoint her?" "Of course not," Jake replied. "Good. Just think how happy she'll be knowing that you've given up your freedom for her." Jake's distracted eyes had already wondered up the woman's curvy legs and up inside her dress, and by the time he realised it was too late. "Naughty," she reprimanded, lifting her skirt, swinging her hips and sitting squarely on his face. * Natalie skipped home and showered. Even the hot water couldn't quell her excitement. She dressed in fresh underwear and then squeezed back into the same short blue dress with the same beads around her neck. She slipped on her black jacket and hurried back to the bar. The street was empty as she knocked on the metal door and was led inside the men's entrance by the blonde woman. Jake stared up, excited to see the only woman with the authority to unlock his box. "Nat, why are you here?" "I thought we could try one of their other services," she replied, stepping with her pantyhose covered legs in an attempt to warm up. "Other services?" Jake asked. The curvy woman appeared with a bunch of keys, "We chain lovers together...
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
Mature Neighbor Mature Neighbor · Mature · The first time i fucked my mature neighbor was when she called one Saturday night drunk at my door‚ now don't get me wrong we had met before and had a few coffees together‚ She a sexy big tit big ass lady that looks good for 46. Well when she knocked at the door she revealed that she had been drinking and could she come in naturally I let her in and with in minutes she was asking me did i shave my ball which i replayed yes. She then asked to use the toilet to which i showed her‚ Say to me to wait on her suddenly the bathroom door opened and there she was standing in fuck me boots‚ stockings and suspenders and a sexy little corset with her boobs busting out over the top. she just stood there smiling and then asked you like what you see‚ to which I  nodded‚ pushing me back against the hall wall she dropped to her knees and looking up at me with her tits now swinging freely from the corset she said now let see what you got. Frantically she pulled my belt off jeans down‚ now not to blow my own trumpet I do have a long hard fat 9 inch cock. She just paused and stared at my young 31 year old cock pointing at her and then said that is the most beautiful cock I have seen and I don't know if it will fit in my pussy‚ ass or mouth but fuck it i'm going to try to which she opened her mouth and started to suck on my big cock within ten minutes she had made her way halfway down my shaft with her mouth only pulling off for a breath of air or to tell me she was going to get it down her throat which she did my whole 9 inchs squeezed down her tight throat another 10 minutes and i was twitching and shooting my first load down her throat‚ which she accommodated and drank every drop. still sucking on my cock she proceeded to suck it back to life‚ reaching down I felt her pussy was all wet and moist leading her to the sofa pushing her down I threw her legs in the air stuck my face down on her clit  and fingering her wet pussy all the  squirts and slopping noises you get with a wet pussy ringing through the air in my apartment. 10 minutes of licking/deep licking‚ ass licking and fingering her ass and pussy she soon was cumming all over my face which i licked up and then plunged my cock deep into her wet soggy pussy taking my cock deep she moaned groaned and twitched on my cock with a good hard thrust i started to bang my neighbors pussy really hard and even with her pussy being all wet she was still surprisingly tight continuing to fuck her hard i mean fucking really hard her cum flowing down between her ass and her big tit bouncying from the deep hard fuck she was receiving. squeezing them hard and sucking on them she screams out cumming on my cock and squirting all over it as i pull out filled her mature body once again with a load of cum‚ sticking her ass in the air the mature slut placed her hands on each bum cheek and pulled them apart her pussy juice glistening in the light around her asshole. Grabbing my cock she forced my big cock into her ass in one go pushing back to feel my balls slapping against her wet pussy which she was frantically finger fucking squirting even more pussy juice over my ball which she then started to rub into her pussy even inserting fucking hell i shouted as i grab her  big tits and squeeze the hard making her cum her ass getting loser with every thrust screaming and shouting to fuck her  cum everywhere but i wish ball deep in my mature neighbor and she was loving it. I soon was announcing i was going to fill her ass with cum and she screamed with pleasure as my pulsating cock emptied its third load. Pulling out she pounced on my cock again with her mouth and said she wanted to suck it clean taking her time she sucked it clean and left with my cum dripping out of all her fuck holes. The next day bumping into her in the apartment block she smiled at me with a seductive smile‚ and within 20 minutes of me being in my apartme3nt the door knocked it was her standing there in stilettos and a long coat which she revealed that she was naked under placing a kiss on my check she whispered into my ear that my cum  was dripping out of her all day and i was all she could think of and when she seen me earlier she got all wet went in stripped off and come to see it I had anymore lovely fresh warm cream to feed her hungry holes. Which started another night of wild sex with my mature dirty slut of a neighbor.          
The Wife Chronicles The Wife Chronicles · Group Sex · Part 1 - Annihilating Her Dignity Dominant, attractive, white and sexist, Leroy - a 29-year-old - thought that the female species was inferior, but didn’t know anyone who agreed before copulating with the submissive, 28-y/o Sylvia during a Halloween orgy. Her large paps were firm as were her haunches; she had nice legs and reddish-blonde hair. Due to her wantoness, though, Leroy demanded that she marry him because he didn't believe in marital sanctity. One August, Thursday evening, however, he joined a ‘Net-group, ‘ThreeHolers.’ In its membership list, he found the white, 25-y/o Jude and white, 23-y/o Adrian’s shared profile expressing their 'disdain for women' and mentioning that they lived in his city. Leroy uploaded her nude picture to a message: - ‘Hello. I’m Leroy and this is my wife, Sylvia. She’s into rough and abusive, though non-violent sex, extremely foul language, degradation and public embarrassment. We’d like to meet you at The Silver Moon Tavern this Friday night.” Jude and Adrian answered: - ‘Hi, Leroy, we’re glad you contacted us and we’ll go to the bar at 10 o’clock.” Leroy replied, ‘Okay.’ At 9:45 on present occasion, he commanded Sylvia to wear high-heeled shoes and a short, low-cut dress. ‘Yes, sir.’ After that, Leroy drove to the bar. ‘Strut your stuff,' he said. ‘Yes, sir,’ - and she arched her back to proudly display her boobs while the couple walked into the tavern and slected a corner table. Jude and Adrian recognized her and Jude greeted her, ‘How are you, babe?’ ‘I’m not a babe,’ Sylvia protested. ‘What are you?’ Adrian inquired. ‘A slut, sir.’ ‘Really? Leroy doesn’t respect you, does he?’ Jude asked. ‘No, sir.’ ‘He shouldn’t,’ Adrian remarked as he sat down beside her. ‘Your husband hasn’t told you we're going to ruin you in a junkyard I manage, has he?’ Jude said. ‘That’s right, sir,’ Sylvia answered. Leroy then ordered coffee, which the bartender served as Adrian lifted Sylvia’s dress and peered at her bare crotch. ‘There aren’t any panties in sight,’ he announced. ‘She’s an immodest lady – oh, shit, the lady’s a tramp!’ Jude sneered. ‘Well, your name’s similar to the Biblical Judas and I hope you’ll betray her wifely honor,’ Leroy chuckled. ‘How about I destroy her reputation, IF she has one?’ Jude asked. ‘Annihilate my dignity, sir!’ Sylia moaned. ‘Trust me, I will!’ Jude snorted as Leroy paid for everyone’s drinks. Having done that, he, Adrian, Sylvia and Jude left the bar, followed by Leroy pushing her into his car’s rear seat. Adrian and Jude slid in on either side of her and Leroy had barely started driving when he said, ‘The only reason Sylvia exists is because she’s whore.’ 'She’s trash!’ Adrian jeered. ‘Are you worthless?’ Jude inquired. ‘Yes, I am, sir!’ she admitted. ‘Yeah, you are!’ Jude said as he spat in her pretty face. When Leroy arrived at the junkyard, Jude unlocked the gate and waved Leroy through it. ‘Show us your body,’ Leroy commanded, She did, while Adrian and Jude leered at her. ‘These jugs are enormous,’ Adrian said as he groped her tits. ‘They have aphrodisiacs in them,’ Jude responded. ‘Yeah, and her ovary glands produce them,’ Leroy said. By then, Sylvia was feeling thoroughly betrayed, though aroused. Falling to her knees, she asked, ‘May I suck your cocks, sirs?’ Jude lowered his jeans and drilled his 11-inched pecker into her mouth, then: - 'Polish my knob, slut!’ Sylvia did while Leroy and Adrian observed the scene. But it wasn’t long until Jude emptied his nuts into her throat and withdrew from it. Adrian stripped and launched his 9-inched pole into her vag. ‘Eeeeh!’ the tart screamed. ‘Shut up!’ Adrian yelled. ‘Yes, sir!’ Sylvia whimpered before an orgasm ignited her loins and Adrian spilled his seed into her snatch. He dismounted her and said, ‘Try embarrassing her, Leroy.’ ‘Okay,’ Leroy answered as he unzipped his trousers and guided his 11-inched penis into her ass. ‘You filthy shit-hole!’ he roared. ‘Even your clit’s filthy!’ Jude laughed. ‘Oh, god, yes, sir!’ Sylvia exclaimed. Soon, Leroy ejaculated into her bowels and discarded them. ‘Crawl over to that mattress,’ he ordered. ‘Yes, sir,’ - and Sylvia complied as the guys dowsed her in urine. However, she smelled so bad that Leroy deposited her in his car-trunk and transported her home, where she took a shower before the studs continued manhandling her. She loved it. ~*~ Part 2 - The King’s Chamber The Sunday afternoon a week following the night Leroy and Sylvia met Adrian and Jude, Leroy commanded her to dress in nothing except a bra, panties and high-heeled shoes, before the couple got in his car and went to The Scarlet Letter Club where adulterous wives were exposed to male scorn. They entered a dining area, with a brunette waitress approaching them. ‘Alcohol isn’t allowed, though I have tea and coffee. Which would you prefer?’ she said. ‘Coffee,’ Leroy answered. ‘Coffee for 2?’ she asked. ‘Please,’ Sylvia responded. The waitress left, returned several minutes later and set 2 cups on the table. Albert’s the club owner, and since you're new here, you’re his guests and I won’t charge you anything if you’ll drink these in The King’s Chamber. It’s down the hall,’ she said. ‘Thank him,’ Leroy replied as he and Sylvia carried their coffee into the room. But they didn’t notice a mid-2o’s white stud following them. ‘I’m Darrel,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’m Leroy and this is Sylvia.' ‘You’re a slut?’ Darrel asked her. ‘That’s all I am, sir,’ she answered. ‘Is it politically correct to say you’re a beautiful 'cunt'?’ Darrel sneered. ‘She’s a morally ugly hooker!’ Leroy said. ‘I admire your husband for marketing you,’ Darrel answered as Sylvia volunteered to disrobe. ‘Your tits are obscenely big,’ Darrel remarked. ‘She's in an obscene business,’ Leroy noted. ‘When did she begin turning tricks?’ Darrel inquired. ‘That’s how we celebrated our wedding 7 years ago,’ Leroy informed him. ‘Wow!’ Darrel exclaimed. ‘That’s astonishing, isn’t it?’ Leroy grinned. ‘Yeah,’ Darrel responded while undressing to expose his 9-inched penis. He then looked up at Albert, the white, 46-y/o ‘king.' ‘You have an audience,’ Darrel said as he bent Sylvia over a couch and penetrated her dung-chute. ‘Sodomize her!’ Leroy uged him. ‘Rip my ass apart!’ Sylvia whimpered, though it wasn’t long until she panted, ‘I’m cumming!’ ‘Quiet, whore!’ Darrel snarled as he plowed his jizz into her rectum. ‘You dirty, little hooker!’ Leroy next quoted a *movie line before he drove his cock into her anus. For 10 minutes, he hammered her, until he unloaded in her bowels. Nevertheless, she couldn’t believe him sliding her cup beneath her ass and ordering, ‘Fart into your coffee!’ ‘Yes, sir!’ - and she’d scarcely done so when Albert crossed the room and ejaculated into her beverage. He then took a $50-bill from his pocket, handed it to her and said, ‘I’m paying your $20 admission fee plus an extra 30. Hookers are always welcome at my establishment and I want to hire you to entertain a large party this Friday night.’ ‘She’ll do it,’ Leroy promised. ‘Good,’ Albert replied as he disappeared from the chamber. ‘Toast him, bitch,’ Leroy said. ‘Yes, sir,’ - and Sylvia swallowed her brew. The next Friday night, however, Leroy and Darrel attended the party, after which they congratulated her for earning $1, ooo, and... ‘... I’m an expensive escort,’ she giggled. *(The Gangbang Girl 29) ~*~ Part 3 - Fuck Me, Jesus! Previous installments haven't explained that Sylvia had rebelled against her religious upbringing, though blasphemy still incensed her. A week after she and Leroy went to The Scarlet Letter Club, he decided to exploit that during a Sunday morning church service. But a Friday or Saturday night rarely passed when a least one other man wasn't in bed with Sylvia and Leroy, including the white, 31-y/o Doyle. He relished Leroy's plan: At 10:45, Leroy had Sylvia wear a long dress and regular shoes, then drove to the church. Doyle was already sitting in the next-to-last pew; the couple sat down behind him. Two days earlier, Leroy had requested the pastor to deliver a sermon denouncing adultery. And, oh, did he ever! 'Unfaithful wives are sinners!' he thundered as Leroy removed a vibrator from his pocket. He activated the device, reached under her dress and buried it in her muff. 'What are you doing?' she whispered. 'Ask Jesus to fuck you,' Leroy quietly ordered. 'Fuck me, Jesus!' she softly obeyed. In a bit, Leroy thrust a cross in next to the vibrator. That amused Doyle; he flipped her the bird and left. When the pastor finished his sermon, Leroy and Svlvia departed, as well. 'Take the vibrator and cross out,' Leroy said. She did. Next, she and Leroy got in the husband's car and he drove to The City Adult Bookstore. They went into the video-arcade where Doyle was standing in the hall and sneered, 'God condemns paid slummers!' 'Yes, sir.' 'Mary Magdalene's Sylvia's inspiration,' Leroy said. 'Jesus married a hooker?' Doyle asked. 'Yeah, and the 12 disciples were her favorite johns,' Leroy answered. 'She defiled herself for money,' Doyle remarked. 'Sylvia does, too,' Leroy answered. 'She's filth incarnate!' Doyle said as Leroy opened the door to a private viewing room and led her into it while Doyle followed. 'We intend to punish you!' Leroy warned as he and Doyle unzipped their jeans. 'Worship my cock!' Leroy snarlled before she dropped her knees and gulped it into her mouth, followed by Doyle throwing his 10-inched rod into her vag. 'You're a pig. aren't you?' he said. 'Uh-hmmm!' Sylvia nodded. Nonetheless, that aroused her to a climax which Doyle and Leroy ignored until the latter suggested, 'Breed the dumb sow!' 'What?' Doyle inquired. 'Breed her!' 'Her womb had better be fertile!' Doyle responded as he drained his sperm into her snatch while Leroy's cock erupted in her mouth. After a brief pause, he said, 'It's time to complete her shame.' 'How?' Doyle asked. 'Like this,' Leroy replied, with him clutching Sylvia's tresses and towing her into the men's restroom. Four black customers then watched Leroy and Doyle pissing in the urinal and having her lick it clean. 'The 'ho must be the janitor,' one guy remarked. 'She's well-trained,' Doyle answered before he, Leroy and Sylvia left the store. That night, however, Doyle and Leroy commercialized the lowest slut in town. Jesus christ, man! ~*~ Part 4 - Disgusting Leroy was returning from work the following Friday night when he went to a gas station where he met Alvin, his white, divorced, equally-sexist and 35-y/o friend. ‘How are you and Sylvia?’ Alvin asked. ‘We’re fine,’ Leroy said. ‘I’m happy hear that. But you know Jude, don’t you?’ Alvin inquired. ‘Yeah, why?’ Leroy answered. ‘Yesterday, he showed me your wife’s nude picture with his phone while he was repairing my car,’ Alvin said. ‘I bet she incited your lust, didn’t she?’ Leroy remarked. ‘Really!’ Alvin said. ‘Let me finish buying gas and we’ll go to my place,’ Leroy responded. ‘Okay,’ Alvin replied. After Leroy had filled his tank, the men went to Leroy’s house. ‘You remember Alvin, don’t you?’ he asked. ‘Yes, sir,’ Sylvia responded. ‘He’s here since Jude once more betrayed your honor,’ Leroy said. ‘Just as much, you have no virtue!’ Alvin remarked. ‘Yeah. So, confess the awful sin you committed in church on Sunday!’ Leroy commanded. ‘I - I - asked Jesus to fuck me, sir.’ ‘I ought to violate you!’ Alvin snorted. However, he didn’t realize that he coincidentally was indulging Sylvia’s fantasy until Leroy told him, ‘You have her permission!’ ‘Good!’ Alvin said as he undressed to display his thick, 11-inched penis, then tore her clothes off, pushed her knee-ward in the living room and hurled his spear into her mouth. ‘Swallow my dick!’ he snarled. ‘Do it, you demon-possesses witch!’ Leroy ordered. ‘You don’t hate her, do you?’ Alvin laughed. ‘She's too disgusting to hate!’ Leroy sarcastically replied. ‘That’s what Jesus thinks!’ Alvin responded. Having said that, he withdrew from the Sylvia’s mouth and creamed her face. ‘You’re total mess!’ he snickered before Leroy stripped, crouched behind her and aimed his pecker into her guts. ‘Take my cock in your stinking sewer!’ he disparaged her to an orgasm. ‘First, she was ‘a demon-possessed witch’, then ‘disgusting’ and now she’s a ‘stinking sewer!’ Alvin chuckled. ‘Don’t forget she’s morally offensive!’ Leroy added while unloading in Sylvia’s ass. ‘Immoral wives are great, aren’t they?’ Alvin inquired. ‘Yeah, they are,’ Leroy answered, and 'thank you, sirs,’ Sylvia ended the night. However, Alvin moved to Spain and she never saw him again. Crap!
Angela ~Chapter 1 of a book Angela ~Chapter 1 of a book · One on One · The Magic Glade By Nicholas Wolf Angela It was still only 9 o’clock‚ but already the temperature in the cottage was becoming unbearable. The windows were flung wide open‚ but with little breeze to stir the air this seemed to have little affect. “Well I can’t just sit here melting‚” Angela thought to herself‚ ”perhaps the woods would be a bit cooler. At least there would be fresh air and shade.” Her mind made up‚ she took her small backpack from the cupboard under the stairs‚ and went through to the kitchen. Taking two bottles of water from the fridge she dropped them inside. She went back through to the small lounge and looked around‚ searching. “Ah there it is‚ I knew I left it here somewhere.” She said to herself‚ as sun lotion followed the water into her pack. “Can’t be too careful.” She thought. “I know I’ve applied some already‚ but in this sun...” “Book‚ book.” She searched around‚ finally locating it on the table beside her favourite chair. “Can’t go without a book.” It was one of Angela’s pleasures in life to simply sit in a sheltered glade‚ or beside the small murmuring stream‚ and let herself be transported to other lands and times‚ lost in a good book. She took her wide brimmed straw hat from where it hung beside the door‚ and went outside‚ pulling the door shut behind her. Not bothering to lock it behind her she started down the garden path‚ and on reaching the gate turned right‚ and headed off towards the centre of the village. As she walked past the old church‚ making her way to the field beyond‚ a slight breeze caught at the hem of her thin cotton dress. “Aah! Much better.” She thought‚ and moved along more quickly. The field was lush‚ thick with grasses and wild flowers. This was the first really hot day‚ and this coming at the very end of August‚ she could remember all summer. The preceding weeks had been overcast at best‚ it seemed to have rained nearly everyday since April. The wild flowers grew in abundance. Red and yellow‚ white and pick‚ the field was a veritable kaleidoscope of colour. She bent and picked some blue‚ now almost faded to lilac‚ harebells from between the tall blades of grass‚ which she twirled between her fingers as she walked‚ getting ever closer to the inviting shade ahead. Suddenly smiling‚ she placed the flowers in the band of her hat‚ and skipped the remainder of the way. As she passed from bright sunshine into the shade of the trees‚ it was just as she had thought‚ the temperature dropped noticeably. It was cool. She stopped‚ removed her hat‚ and mopped the sweat from her brow and neck. Replacing it she headed off along the well-trodden track heading in the direction of the stream. It was a glorious day‚ and Angela felt good. She smiled at the twittering and chirping of the birds‚ chaffinch and willow-warblers amongst them. She was lost in the colours‚ shapes and textures of the trees and shrubs. There was dogwood and brambles. There were Ash‚ Alder and Oak‚ but her eyes always lingered on the birch. Of all the trees perhaps the silver birch was her favourite. Not long lived by tree standards‚ it gave it a kind of mortality. Not only that‚ she loved its’ silver bark which peeled back and curled in so many ways. She had long ago given up trying to find some kind of pattern‚ and put the numerous different shapes down to the whim of the tree‚ the elements and nature. She couldn’t resist pulling a piece back‚ revealing the brown of the wood beneath. A small shape scurried across the track ahead of her‚ moving to fast to identify. A shrew‚ a mouse perhaps? She sipped some water as she slowly walked along‚ enjoying the peace and solitude‚ the tranquillity. “Peace and tranquillity?” She thought‚ hearing the sound of a flute or whistle coming from close by. The sound was melodic and tuneful‚ the refrain hauntingly familiar‚ although she couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at the back of her mind‚ but refused to come forward. She turned in a circle trying to locate the source of the music‚ and finally drawn by the melody‚ pushed aside two bushes‚ and stepped between. She emerged in a sunlit glade‚ and looked around. Trees and shrubs with various coloured flowers surrounded a circle of soft lush grass‚ which seemed to cushion her feet as she stepped upon it. The scent of the sweet briar filled the air. The grass was cut short‚ which she found surprising‚ but what she found even more surprising was what she saw in the centre. Sitting on a long thick trunk of a tree was the musician behind the music. It was perhaps the smallest man she had ever seen‚ and he was staring straight at her. He lowered his flute from his mouth. “Top o’ tha mornin to ya‚ and how be you this fine sunny day?” “What?” She said. “I said Top o’ tha mornin..” “No‚ no I heard what you said‚ it’s just that you’re ..” Being no more that three feet tall‚ dressed in mainly green and brown‚ red hair‚ a matching coloured long bushy beard‚ and speaking in a broad Irish brogue‚ well he had to be “a leprechaun.” “Well is that what I be girlie‚ and am I not to your liking then?” “It’s just the shock‚ your accent‚ the speed you talk” She stopped‚ not sure how to continue. The small figure seemed to shimmer before her eyes‚ and was then surrounded in a bright white light. She lowered her eyes to the grass‚ shielding them against the sudden glare. As she noticed the light fade she raised her head. Her jaw dropped slightly‚ her lips forming an almost perfect ‘O’‚ and her eyes opened wide. “Well dear lady‚ is this more to your liking?” Angela looked quickly around the glade. “Where?...How?....Magic?..” “ Perhaps it seems magic to you my dear‚ but for myself‚ well. It’s just natural.” He started to explain before disappearing in white light‚ to be replaced by an Elf‚ with his distinguishing pointed ears and upward slanting eyebrows. Again the light flared‚ a giant fully 10 feet tall‚ and once more a glare caused her to avert her eyes. As the light faded a huge black wolf sat staring up at her with dark brown eyes‚ its long pink tongue hanging between sharp pointed fangs from its snout. Tilting its head back it let out a deafening howl‚ before itself being consumed by white light‚ which cleared leaving once more the well spoken man sitting on the log. Angela took a half step backward and just stood staring‚ to shocked and surprised to speak. “I’m so sorry‚ it wasn’t my intention to startle or scare you‚ I just aimed to demonstrate that what you referred to as magic‚ is in fact quite natural to me.” He apologised. “What? Oh that’s fine‚ startled not scared. Just give me a minute.” As she tried to gather her thoughts she focused on the man in front of her. Well spoken definitely‚ and from the accent and manners‚ certainly English. He was not young‚ but neither was he old. He was slim‚ but fit looking‚ she could see little sign of fat‚ his hair was dark‚ showing silver at the temples. He was dressed in a short sleeved shirt and shorts‚ and wore sandals on his feet‚ which rested on the ground. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his stomach‚ and she could see a hint of hair on his chest. As to his height‚ well perhaps two or three inches taller than she was. She stared into his light blue eyes. “The leprechaun‚ are you some kind of fairy?” She asked. “Excuse me!!” “Fairy‚ you know‚ magical folk.” “Would you mind spelling that for me please‚ fairy that is?” he asked‚ his eyebrows slightly raised. “F-a-i-r-y.” she answered matter-of-factly. “Hmm. Pronounced the same‚” he mused‚ “and yes I am a member of the ancient races‚ but we spell it F-a-e-r-i-e. I believe the term fairy when applied to a man has a whole different connotation now days.” Angela giggled‚ a tinkling‚ happy sound‚ and she raised her hand to cover her mouth‚ stifling a laugh. Having composed herself she lowered her hand. “Why yes I guess it does. She continued‚ now unable to contain her laughter‚ as she smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to imply...” “No‚ no don’t apologise‚ it is of no matter.” Her smiled back at her. “Where are my manners‚ won’t you sit down. May I offer you refreshment?” She waved the bottle she still held in her hand. “Yes I see you have water‚ but perhaps some cold juice‚ wine perhaps?” “Juice sounds good thank you.” “And to eat? Choose anything your heart desires.” He offered. “Well I am rather partial to cherries.” “Then cherries you will have. Please‚ do sit.” He gestured behind her to her right‚ and she turned her head. Where before there had just been grass‚ there was now a large coloured woollen blanket‚ with juice and a bowl of cherries at the centre. She moved to the blanket‚ and as he had offered‚ she sat. The blanket was incredibly soft‚ possibly the softest wool she had felt. She ran her hand up and down‚ enjoying the soft‚ almost sensual feel on her skin. She took a deep red cherry from the bowl‚ and sucked it into her mouth. Her teeth bit into the soft fruit and it burst‚ succulent juices covering her tongue. Mmm‚ she moaned quietly and let the juice slide down her throat‚ before chewing and swallowing the fruit. As she reached for a second she turned her head and noticed him moving towards her‚ his fingers undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt. He removed it‚ and dropped it to the blanket. Angela lent away from him. “Excuse me?” She asked. “Oh. I can assure you there is absolutely nothing to worry about. You can rest assured that I won’t molest you in anyway....unless you would like me to of course.” He smiled‚ and she thought she saw a twinkle in his eye. “I was merely going to sunbathe. I do so enjoy the sensation of the suns warmth on my naked flesh. He undid his shorts and let them drop to the ground‚ before stepping out of them. Angela coughed. He stood in front of her totally naked. She ran her eyes down his chest‚ his stomach. Beneath soft curly black hair‚ his manhood hung thick and limp between his legs. She licked her dry lips‚ before placing another cherry in her mouth. He lowered himself to lay face down‚ his head resting on his arms‚ the juice and cherries between them on the blanket. She removed her hat before‚ smoothing her dress‚ she too lay face down‚ her arms cradling her head. After about ten minutes he turned his head towards her. “Do you not sunbathe?” He asked. She turned her head to look at him. “Well not really‚ and well..” Her eyes seemed to scan around the glade. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that my dear‚ we really are quite secluded‚ and people seldom come here. In fact you’re the first in‚ Oh let’s just say a very long time. Do you not like to feel the heat of the suns rays on your naked body‚ it really can be quite invigorating‚ quite sensual.” “It’s just that‚ “she looked down at her dress‚” I’m not wearing much under here‚ and with you lying there‚” she looked down his back to his firm buttocks‚ “naked‚ well...” “Rest assured you are safe here with me‚ we’ll just share in the pleasure the sun gives us.” Not knowing why she even considered the idea‚ she sat‚ her arms going behind her back to the zip on her dress‚ and undoing it. As the straps began to slip down her arms‚ she looked him in the eye. “Well?” “Oh‚ please excuse me.” He turned his head and resting it again on his arms‚ looked away. She let the top of the dress drop down‚ then lay back to remove it completely‚ before folding it and placing it beside her on the rug. Then‚ like him she lay face down to enjoy the sun. He turned his head to face her. The sun did indeed feel nice on her skin. It’s warmth seeming to seep into her. The occasional breeze would stroke sensuously over her naked back‚ as if an invisible mouth were blowing softly. She looked across. The man’s eyes were shut‚ his breathing shallow‚ he looked so calm and peaceful. She felt an urge to stroke his cheek‚ and her hand reached towards him. She stopped. “Just what are you thinking?” She shook her head admonishing herself. “Cherries‚ think of the cherries.” As she lent up on her elbows to reach towards the bowl‚ she felt her nipples rub gently against the blanket beneath her‚ The softness of the woollen fibres seemed to stroke as soft as a feather‚ gently at the tips. She sighed softly. All thought of cherries slipped away‚ as lowering herself‚ she repeated the action‚ making her nipples stiffen slightly‚ to protrude from her breasts. “Mmm nice.” She thought‚ as once more she rubbed her chest backwards‚ and then forwards as she arched her back She stopped‚ now leaning on her elbows. She reached to take another cherry from the bowl‚ and moved it towards her parted lips. Tilted her head back she sucked this third cherry into her mouth. Sweet juices burst in her mouth as she bit down hard‚ and again she let them flow slowly down her throat. She looked at the glass on the rug beside her. “Who needs that?” She thought. After all‚ the cherries did both ease her hunger and sate her thirst. His eyes had been slightly open as she moved her hand towards him‚ and he had sensed the indecision in her. She wanted to touch him‚ but felt cheapened by the thought. He smiled‚ and his eyes moved down from his study of her face‚ to fix on the curves of her white breast‚ a merest hint of it’s dark pink nipple showing‚ its tip being cushioned by soft wool. Mmmm. His tongue slipped out between his dry lips‚ circling to moisten them. He tilted his head‚ returning his gaze to her face. He opened his eyes fully. “Would you like me to apply some lotion to your back? You are after all pale of skin‚ and the sun’s rays are quite powerful.” She reached a hand back over her shoulder‚ and touched her back. It did already feel a bit hot and slightly tender to the touch. “Well if you wouldn’t mind.” She reached for her pack‚ and pulled out the sun lotion. Placing it between them on the blanket she averted her eyes as he started to rise‚ turning so to kneel beside her. “Oohh!!” She shivered and a tiny squeal escaped between her lips. “Cold?” He asked her. “Just a bit. More the shock I think. Carry on.” He had drawn a line down her spine with the creamy lotion‚ and now began to massage it into the soft skin of her back. His hands moved in circling motions‚ moving slowly‚ his fingers stroking‚ up and down. He reached across her back‚ stroking down her side. The tips of his fingers softly brushed the side of her breast. She turned her head‚ once again resting it on her arms‚ and looked at him‚ her eyes barely open. On his face was a look of intense concentration as he stroked her‚ his fingers pushing at her skin as he massaged her back‚ and up over her shoulders. Again he rubbed over her side‚ this time his fingers lingering slightly‚ pushing gently at the softly yielding flesh beneath. She looked down‚ his member was slightly larger now‚ thicker‚ longer‚ and seemed to be growing before her eyes. Her mouth felt dry‚ as she moaned softly to herself‚ her passion beginning to rise. Smoothing the lotion onto her skin his hands moved lower‚ the tips of his fingers sliding inside the waist of her white panties. Her eyes opened wider as he looked down at her face‚ his eyebrows raised in question. She nodded slightly and felt his fingers once more stroke and caress her lower back. Her nerve ends were fired‚ tingling‚ as he expertly stroked and caressed her. Her imagination took wing‚ and carnal images vied for position in her head. She moaned softly as she saw him move down her body‚ and out of her line of sight. She felt her legs eased slightly apart‚ and felt the hot skin of his legs on the inside of her calves. He ran lines of lotion down the back of her legs. With strong fingers he stoked upwards as if easing the tightness from her muscles. He stroked down the outside of her thighs‚ her calves‚ before again rubbing upwards‚ his thumbs this time stroking up the inside of her legs. Higher and higher‚ stopping just short of her panties‚ to stroke softly back down. She felt a tingle exciting her body‚ felt her nipples stiffen against the soft wool‚ felt heat build between her legs‚ as he again stroked firmly up her legs‚ her inner thighs. “Would you prefer an all over tan do you think?” She was started back to reality by the unexpected sound of his voice‚ and turned her head to look at him. She nodded as she slowly raised her hips from the ground. He leant forward and slid his hands under the waistband before sliding her panties over her hips and easing them down her legs. He moved to kneel beside her as he slipped them over her feet‚ and placed them on her dress. He looked up at the curves of her firm cheeks. Round‚ firm succulent‚ like a peach he was eager to bite and taste. He ran his still lotion-coated hands over them‚ stroking‚ squeezing‚ kneading them‚ as she tensed her muscles. Angela could only moan‚ as her body trembled with suppressed emotion. She raised her self on one elbow‚ and looked back at him. She could see the tension in his face‚ the inner tension that had grown as he had massaged and stroked her back‚ as he had caressed her legs and her cheeks. His member had continued to swell and grow. It was harder now‚ not hanging‚ but rather its tip pointing sideways at his hip. She rolled to her back. He stared down longingly‚ taking in the roundness of her firm white breasts‚ with their dark pink nipples jutting proudly from their centres. His eyes moved down‚ taking in the flatness of her stomach‚ her slim waist and small rounded hips‚ finally resting on the dark delta between her legs. He swallowed hard‚ his mouth felt dry‚ and again he circled his lips with his tongue. He looked back to her face. She was wearing a mischievous smile‚ as she picked up the bottle of lotion from where he had left it. He gave a small cough. “The front my dear?” His voice sounding husky. “Hmm.” She lent slightly forward‚ and poured some lotion into her left hand. She slowly raised it moving it up to first cup‚ and then close it around her right breast. She squeezed‚ and he saw the creamy liquid ooze between her fingers‚ and run slowly down her stomach. She held the bottle towards him‚ her eyes now fixed on the wide girth and the long length of his cock‚ which stood fully erect in front of him‚ throbbing. Sighing‚ she moistened her lips. “Legs perhaps.” He took the proffered bottle from her hand‚ and poured the thick lotion onto his palm. Dropping the bottle‚ he rubbed his hands together. Her hand squeezed and rubbed at her breast‚ slowly circling. Her fingers squeezed at the firm nipple‚ pulling‚ leaving it glistening in the sunlight. She stroked across to her left breast and caressed and squeezed‚ tweaking her nipple‚ pulling then releasing. Backwards and forwards‚ stroking‚ caressing‚ pinching‚ twirling her stiff nipples. Her right hand moved lower to trace circles and stroke her stomach‚ the tips of her fingers briefly touching her soft pubic hair‚ before once more returning to the blanket at her side.. He stroked up the front of her legs‚ leaning towards her‚ watching as she gently writhed‚ and softly murmured‚ her tongue licking her lips‚ as she lost herself in her pleasure. Down the outside quickly‚ his needs building inside him. He stroked up the inside of her thighs‚ Angela moaned louder as his fingers reached the top‚ fingers stroking outward‚ circling‚ to meet‚ to twist and tease her hair. She raised her hips as his fingers retraced their route back around her pussy‚ and then down her legs. Again she felt his hands stoke her thighs‚ and again they parted at the top to toy with her soft hair. Once more he gently stroked‚ her sense of anticipation‚ her frustration‚ building as she yearned to feel his touch between her legs. She stroked and squeezed harder at her breasts thinking‚ “please... please.....” She raised her hips higher‚ thrusting towards him‚ as she felt his hands on her legs‚ stroking ever nearer to the heat between her thighs. “Oooh!! Aaah!!” She moaned‚ as she felt not his finger‚ but the tip of a soft velvety tongue lick slowly up her lips. She looked down to see him looking up at her‚ the bottom of his face hidden between her legs. He lowered his head‚ and she sighed as again his tongue licked slowly up her pussy. Slowly‚ gently‚ sensuously he used his tongue to tease and please‚ licking up her now swelling lips. Up‚ his tongue easing them slightly apart‚ pushing slightly harder. She was hot and wet‚ and her juices started to flow slowly between her lips. “Mmmm.” He licked‚ savouring her taste on his tongue. His tongue moved faster now as he licked‚ up and down. It pushed harder‚ probing. He buried his face deep between her legs‚ pushing his tongue fully out‚ to slide it into her. Again he moaned at the taste of juices on his tongue‚ her heat surrounding it. Angela was moaning softly as she lowered her hands to grip the back of his head as she felt his tongue swirl inside her. Squeezing her thighs in his strong fingers he moved his tongue slowly in and out of her. In and out‚ licking her juices into his mouth to savour their taste‚ before letting them slide down his throat. He stopped‚ and she felt his head push back against her hands‚ and reluctantly she let go. She leant forward as he sat back to kneel between her knees. She sighed at the sight of his member‚ which stood proudly throbbing‚ its’ purple tip shining in the bright sunlight. She reached out and stroked the tips of her fingers down its’ hard length. He closed his eyes‚ sighing at her touch. “Perhaps that would be a little easier.” He nodded back over his shoulder directing her gaze behind him. The trunk was now draped with woollen fleeces‚ which covered the top‚ hanging down over the sides. She nodded‚ and taking her hands in his‚ he helped her to her feet. Hand in hand they walked naked across the glade. Taking her waist‚ he lifted her to the broad trunk‚ lowering her gently onto the fleece-covered top. He eased her slightly back before kneeling between her legs. Stroking his hands up the backs‚ he raised them and placed them over his shoulders. She lay her head back‚ and raised her hips‚ longing to feel his tongue once more buried deep inside her. He bent forward‚ and again started to lick his velvet tongue up and down her wet and eager pussy. His blood more fired his licking became my urgent‚ as his hands stroked up and down‚ and around on her stomach. His tongue stabbed out pushing hard and fast between her lips‚ and into her sweet tasting hole. In and out‚ in and out‚ Angela moaned and her muscles tensed‚ her legs gripping the sides of the head between them. In and out‚ in and out‚ the tongue felt wider‚ longer‚ felt rougher as it now darted in and out of her‚ harder and faster. Her pussy lips parted further as the tongue seemed to grow‚ pushing them wider to take its’ size‚ and licking deeper and deeper inside her. Angela saw an image of a black wolf with shining eyes‚ a long rough tongue hanging from its’ snout between pointed fangs. She looked down‚ it was a man not a wolf‚ but still she couldn’t shake the image from her mind. “Aaah!!” She groaned‚ the tongue seemed to fill her‚ as it continued to slide in and out‚ twirling‚ licking‚ burying itself deep. In and out‚ in and out‚ the tingling between her legs grew‚ spreading through her pussy‚ and out across her stomach and chest tingling her hard jutting nipples. His hands squeezed her breasts. Every nerve end in her body was stimulated‚ excited‚ and she writhed moaning as he continued to lick her inner walls. The tongue slid out to lick hard up over her clit‚ his mouth sucked hard. “Yeeeess!!” She screamed out‚ as wave upon wave of electrical energy seemed to shoot outwards. Her back arched‚ her muscles contracted as she shook and shivered‚ her orgasm electrified and heightened her senses. Her clit and nipples tingled and throbbed. As her orgasm subsided she sat up to see him now standing between her legs. “Mmmm Thank you?” she told him. “The pleasure was mine‚ I can assure you.” She watched his mouth as he spoke. His tongue was quite normal. “I must have been lost in the moment‚ in the intense sensations.” She thought shaking her head slightly. She lowered her eyes to look at the length of hard flesh protruding upwards from his loins. She slipped down from the trunk‚ and extended her hand to wrap her fingers slowly around it‚ and squeeze firmly. “More mine I think‚ but let’s see shall we.” She slowly pulled down‚ exposing his tip. Up‚ then down. She bent‚ her tongue slipped out between her lips. Up then down she stroked before she gently licked the very tip of her tongue along the slit on the end‚ tasting his seeping juice. His eyes were closed as he moaned softly. She took him into her mouth‚ licking around his hard flesh‚ as she gently sucked. Slowly‚ rhythmically she moved her head up and down‚ sliding him between her lips as her hand stroked up and down his cock. He gently gripped her arm and pulled her hand away. She looked up in surprise. “Not that way.” He said‚ and holding her shoulders‚ he turned her and bent her over the tree trunk‚ laying her on a soft woollen fleece. His fingers slid between her legs‚ and started to stroke forwards and backwards. Forwards and backwards he gently stroked her pussy‚ as her juices started to moisten his fingers. Forwards and backwards‚ she felt the heat build‚ her juices begin to flow. He slipped a finger slowly inside her. “Mmmm.” And she moaned. In and out his finger probed‚ as she grew hotter and wetter. He inserted another finger. In and out in and out he pushed and stroked. He moved forwards towards her‚ his hand wrapped around his length‚ lowering it and sliding it between her legs. She reached back between her legs‚ her thumb and forefinger circling his hard cock. She stroked it up and down her slit‚ lubricating the tip‚ before guiding him inside her. Holding firmly on her hips‚ he bent his back‚ easing his own hips forward to slowly push himself deep inside her. She felt his stomach push against her cheeks. “Aah.” He groaned. He just stood‚ his cock fully inside her‚ lost in the sensation of her wetness and her heat surrounding it. Pulling back his hips he slid almost out‚ before once again sliding slowly back inside her. In and out‚ in and out‚ a slow‚ easy rhythm. As Angela moved started to mirror his movements he withdrew his length until just the tip was inside her. “Hmm?” Slightly frustrated she looked back over her shoulder. He drove his cock in hard. “Aaah!!” She moaned as she was forced forward‚ Her hands gripped tightly on the fleece. Again he pulled almost out and stopped‚ teasing her once more‚ before driving hard back into her. Out‚ and he stopped‚ sliding slightly in and out‚ savouring her growing sense of frustration‚ as she squirmed‚ pushing her pussy back towards him. She felt his hands grip over her shoulders‚ and he forced his hips quickly forward to bury his cock hard and deep. “Ooh Yess!!” Angels raised her head‚ words and sounds coming unbidden from her lips. As he pumped backwards and forwards‚ his actions more urgent‚ harder‚ she was forced forwards‚ just the tips of her toes now touching the lush grass. In and out‚ his arms beneath hers‚ his hands clutching her shoulders and pulling back in time to his action. “Ooh ! Aah!” They moaned as one‚ as she felt him‚ move faster and faster. His cock seemed to swell more‚ becoming thicker and longer. “Aahh!!” She moaned as it buried deep inside before sliding out. In‚ and his hands moved to the top of her shoulders. Out‚ his hips moved back. In‚ and she felt nails‚ yet not nails‚ dig into her flesh. No not nails‚ they felt more pointed‚ harder‚ perhaps more like claws. He racked them down her back as he again powered his now huge cock into her. She moaned‚ and groaned‚ pain mixed with passion‚ with lust. He filled her‚ and she could feel her juices seeping round his hard flesh to run down her inner thighs. As he drew his length back he grabbed her shoulders. As he powered back into her willing yielding flesh‚ his nails or claws scratched down her back. In and out‚ in and out‚ his rhythm now regular and hard. Angela looked back over her shoulder‚ not certain what she would see. His cock had swollen and grown‚ longer‚ thicker‚ like nothing she had experienced before‚ as he now fucked her hot pussy harder and faster. His face seemed unaltered‚ his eyes closed‚ mouth open and moaning as he rode her. However his chest seemed broader‚ his arms seemed larger‚ more hairy. His hand on the back of her head pushed her face down. His action slowed‚ his thrusts becoming longer‚ harder as his passion grew yet higher‚ more intense. He lay on her back‚ and she felt his hot breath on her neck. “Oow!‚ Aah!” She let out a groan of pain mixed with pleasure‚ as his teeth bit hard on her neck‚ his teeth feeling sharp and pointed. He raised his head and howled as his cock jerked inside her‚ his hot seed bursting against her inner walls. Angela’s breathing became short‚ as she panted‚ sighing and moaning. Shocks again ripped through her body‚ her swollen clit seemed to spark. Her pussy muscles contracted around his length as he jerked again sending more of his cum spurting into her already full pussy. Every muscle in her body contracted and she writhed‚ as electricity seemed to play over her‚ her nipples so hard now that they ached. He held her hips burying his still jerking cock deep inside her as his lust spent itself‚ and his orgasm subsided. Dressed now in his shirt and shorts‚ he zipped Angela’s dress. When she had finally been able to raise herself from the fleece blanketed trunk‚ Angela had seen no visible evidence that he had ever been other than she had first seen him as a man. He was no bigger and no hairier‚ his member was surely that of a ‘healthy’ man. So why couldn’t she shake the image of the wolf from her mind. Wolf-man‚ Man-wolf‚ no surely not. But then hadn’t he been able to change his appearance? “Did you....did you... well sort of change?” She hesitantly asked him. “Change‚ in what way? My passion definitely rose to great heights‚ and my senses‚ well you all but rid me of those‚ but change? No I don’t think so. I’m still just a man.” “Hmm?” Angela was not so sure. Taking her by the hand he walked her back to the spot where she had entered. “Well my dear‚ I can only thank you for what has been a truly memorable‚ and thoroughly enjoyable day‚ but night draws on and I’m sure you would not wish to be walking these woods in the dark. I would see you safely home‚ but I am afraid that is quite impossible.” Angela looked around‚ and for the first time noticed that the sun was indeed low down above the tops of the trees. “Dusk already?” She thought‚ it didn’t seem as if she had been here that long. “EIGHT HOURS?” She thought with surprise. She couldn’t believe it‚ but judging from the position of the sun it must have been about that long. “No‚ I mean yes. Yes I guess I must be going‚ and thank you‚ I’ll be fine.” It was certainly not what she was thinking‚ but all she was about to say. “Will I see you again? I didn’t even know this glade was here.” “Perhaps my dear‚ for anything is possible. As for the glade‚ well it is always here‚ but can not always be seen. So as I say‚ perhaps‚ and should you want to enough‚ you may find your way back.” He turned her towards the gap in the undergrowth‚ and she stepped through. Turning back to say good-bye‚ all she saw were bushes and wild flowers where just moments before had been a beautiful glade. She shook her head‚ turned and began the walk home. Perhaps it hadn’t turned out to be such a bad summer after all.
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Wicked Wicked · Fetish · Part 1 The white, 19-y/o Georg and the also-white, 20-y/o Sebastian, were enrolled in summer classes at a university. And the first Thursday evening in July, they were studying when Georg was surfing online and found a Net-group, “DisreputableTarts.” He scrolled through its membership list until he accessed a naked woman’s picture showing her large, firm tits, trim legs and black hair. He then read: - “Hello. I'm Carol, a 38-y/o widow living in River City. I hope to contact dominant men, being I’m submissive and desperately needing golden-showers, extreme humiliation and safe physical abuse. My hobby is corrupting adult boys, 18 to 21. Please reply to 'thesurpreme_slut@gmail.com'.” ‘Look, Sebastian,’ Georg said as he pointed toward his computer screen. ‘Wow, she’s a sexy, old broad, isn’t she?’ Sebastian remarked. ‘She has a vulgar appearance, though I’ll answer her anyway.’ Georg said as he typed: - “Carol. I’m Georg. My buddy, Sebastian, and I think you’re hot. He’s 20 and I’m 19. We live in River City, too. Can you meet us in Washington Park this Sunday morning at 2:3o?” Carol immediately responded, 'I will, sir.' That morning, the guys drove to the otherwise-deserted park and waited until she arrived in nothing except high-heeled shoes. ‘I’m indecent, aren’t I, sirs?’ she askd. ‘Yeah,’ Sebastian replied, as he clutched her tresses and steered her into the men’s restroom. ‘This is where you’ll desecrate the Sabbath,’ he informed her. ‘Yes, sir,’ Carol said. ‘Are you ready for my abuse?’ Georg inquired. ‘Yes, I am, sir,’ she’d scarcely answered before his palm exploded against her pretty face. ‘Aaah!’ she gasped. ‘The poor thing’s suffering!’ Georg jeered. ‘Good!’ Sebastian said, followed by him inserting his finger in the slit between her thighs. ‘This is a morally primitive cave,’ he noted. ‘What do you expect? She’s a Neanderthal!’ Georg chuckled before Sebastian removed his finger and wiped it across her lips. ‘You’re so, so sweet!’ he snickered. ‘Cunts are known as honey-traps,’ Georg interjected. ‘She has a potty-hole,’ Sebastian referred to her anus while undressing ‘Your cock’s beautiful, sir,’ she told him regarding his 11-inched pecker. ‘You’re in love with it, aren’t you?’ Sebastian asked. ‘Yes, sir,’ Carol admitted. ‘Prove it!’ he snarled as he bent her over and chiseled his prick into her vag. ‘Fuck me!’ she moaned. ‘You contemptible whore!’ Sebastian growled. ‘Demolish the bitch!’ Georg advised him. ‘Yeah!’ Sebastian answered. ‘Uuuh – uuuh – uuuh!’ Carol panted. In a bit, Sebastian came in her snatch and withdrew from it while Georg stripped, brought her to her knees and guided his 9-inched cock into her throat. ‘Suck my dick, you dirty skank!’ he yelled, and Carol obeyed until she had an orgasm. Georg next unloaded in her mouth. ‘Let's relieve our bladders,’ he grinned as the boys pissed in her gullet. ‘Thank you, sirs,’ Carol said. ‘We’re giving you a chance to corrupt us again in church next Sunday morning,’ Sebastian smiled. ‘When, sir? ‘Ten 0’clock,’ Sebastion said. ‘Thanks for mistreating me, sirs,’ she answered, then left. But she didn’t realize that the church was temporarily closed, since its pastor had hired Sebastian and Georg to do some repairs. Still aroused, she wore a skirt, blouse, fishnets and high heels to another meeting when Sebastion and Georg were dressed in priest robes. ‘You understand you’re “wicked”, don’t you?’ Sebastian inquired. ‘I do, sir,’ Carol said. ‘Were you faithful to your husband?’ Georg questioned her. ‘No, sir.’ ‘You were and always will be an adulteress!’ Georg remarked as he led her up the aisle to the altar. ‘Pray!’ he ordered. ‘Yes, sir!’ Carol whispered as she sank to her knees. Sebastian then hammered his cock into her guts. ‘I’m evil!’ she wept. ‘Yeah, and your sins are beyond forgiveness!’ Georg said before Sebastian unloaded in and discarded her bowels. Never in her life, had she felt so degraded and multiple orgasms possessed her with demonic fury while Georg aimed his dick into her rectum. 'Split my ass wide open!' she exclaimed, with Georg indulging her until he spewed jizz into it. By then, Sebastian was holding a communion goblet into which he and Georg jacked-off and urinated. Sebastian then poured the liquids into her mouth. ‘We hereby invoke the Devil’s name and curse you forever!’ he intoned, and... ‘... amen!’ Georg concluded the ‘service.’ However, she wanted him and Sebastian to 'marry' her and a week later, they had a pretend wedding, though the guys demanded that she continue engaging in ‘adultery.' ~*~ Part 2 After the 'nuptials', Carol astonished her ‘husbands’ by confessing to her fantasies involving bestiality. ‘You little pervert!’ Sebastian snorted. ‘That’s what you are, isn’t it?’ Georg inquired. ‘Yes, sir!’ 'That's right,' Georg said. Without forewarning her, though, Sebastian and Georg explained a certain plan to their friends, the white, 18-y/o Elroy and black, 21-y/o Jeremy. ‘Are you serious?’ Elroy asked them. ‘Yeah, we are,’ Georg answered. ‘Carol’s your wife?’ Jeremy said. ‘Unofficially,’ Sebastian responded. ‘The honeymoon’s this Saturday night and we’ve reserved a room at the River City Motor Inn. Come with us,’ Georg said. Next, he and Sebastian went to a kennel to purchase an Australian Shepherd and named him Nimrod. Having done that, they took him to Jeremy’s apartment and left him there until the honeymoon when Sebastian ordered, ‘Wear your red shoes representing adultery and the bridal gown we bought you.' ‘Yes, sir,’ the slag answered before Sebastian and Georg drove her to the motel where Elroy, Nimrod and Jeremy were waiting. Sebastian unlocked the door and shoved her into the room while Georg, Nimrod, Elroy and Jeremy followed. ‘Let me introduce Nimrod, the mighty hunter,’ Georg said. ‘He’s going to shoot his arrow and not miss,’ Sebastian remarked. ‘You fucking hound!’ Elroy disparaged her. ‘Yes, I’m hound!’ Carol said as Jeremy shredded her gown, honked her boobs and said, ‘These milk-cans are enormous.’ ‘Her infidelity’s monstrous!’ Georg sneered. ‘Yep. She wallows in her own filth,’ Sebastian said as he, Georg, Jeremy and Elroy undressed. However, Jeremy’s 12-inched staff excited Carol. She fell to her knees and directed it into her mouth. ‘Suck my cock, you piece of shit!’ he growled. Elroy then moved behind her and hurled his 10-inched spear into her vag. ‘Dummy!’ he yelled. ‘Your brains are in your dung-pussy!’ Sebastian remarked. Hearing that inspired Georg. He went to the bathroom and returned with a toilet plunger. ‘This is her favorite dildo!’ he smiled not long before Elroy soiled her snatch and Jeremy her mouth, followed by Georg slashing the plunger handle into her entrails. ‘Yes, yes, assault me!’ she urged him. ‘I’m not a rapist!’ Georg answered, ‘Me, neither, though I’ve never seen a fouler woman,’ Jeremy said as Georg removed the handle. ‘Foul is as foul does!’ Sebastian snickered while jamming his cock into her ass. He’d barely done that before Georg crammed 4 fingers down her throat. ‘Gag!’ he snarled. ‘Uh-hmmm!’ she nodded while he withdrew his fingers and thrust his penis into her oral gape. In a few minutes, Sebastian jizz-defiled her guts and Georg her mouth. Moaning, the vixen crawled under the canine’s belly and nursed his pizzle into a 7-inched boner. He then reared and penetrated her snatch. Silently, the hunks watched until Jeremy shouted, ‘You’re disgusting!’ ‘Yeah, an obscene abomination!’ Georg replied. ‘Yes, sir!’ she wailed as an orgasm flooded her loins. Soon, Nimrod unloaded in her vag and dismounted her. ‘Okay, let's seal the unholy union,’ Georg said. ‘Union?’ Elroy asked. ‘Her latest husband's tied the knot with her,’ Georg replied. ‘We aren’t selfish, are we, Georg?’ Sebastian said. ‘No,’ Georg answered as he, Jeremy, Sebastian and Elroy pissed in her mouth. ‘Thank you, sirs,’ Carol said. ‘‘Don’t forget that your husbands will never love you,’ Georg remarked. ‘Yeah,’ Sebastian said. ‘You should perform stupid pet tricks!’ Jeremy scoffed. ‘You should turn tricks. How much are you worth?’ Elroy asked. ‘Nothing, sir.’ ‘Your wife’s less-valuable than junk, Nimrod!’ Elroy chuckled. ‘This is weird, but I wish my mother was a dog-fucking whore,’ Jeremy said. 'Me, too,’ Elroy replied. ‘I’ll play your mother,’ Carol volunteered. ‘You little pervert!’ Sebastian repeated. Once the men had driven her and Nimrod home, however, they banged her for another hour and she enjoyed it ~*~ Part 3 The next Friday, Sebastian and Georg went to the university cafeteria where their 21-y/o white friends, Troy and Jim, were eating lunch. Georg and Sebastian bought their food, carried their trays over to the other guys’ table and sat down. ‘Jim and I are having argument. Would the world be a better place if all girls were sluts?’ Troy asked. ‘I don’t mean to shock you, but can I tell you a something?’ Sebastian replied. ‘Sure,’ Jim said. ‘Georg and I are in an unsanctioned marriage Carol who's a slut.’ ‘Really?’ Troy answered. ‘Yeah, and metaphorically, our dog, Nimrod, is her third husband,’ Georg remarked. ‘You’ll let Jim and me do her, won’t you?’ Troy said. ‘Of course. Strange as it might sound, her best quality is her not respecting herself,' Georg answered. ‘Yeah, and I have an idea. Our original meeting happened in Washington Park on a Sunday morning which we’ll do this Sunday at 2:30,’ Sebastian said, followed by him and Georg going to Carol’s house. ‘Do you want us to shame you?’ Georg asked her. ‘Yes, I do, sir.’ At 2:15 on the present occasion, however, Georg had her wear nothing except high-heeled shoes, again. After that, he and Sebastian took her and Nimrod out to his car. Nimrod followed her into the back seat, with Georg and Sebastian getting in the front one. Georg then drove to the park, where seeing Troy and Jim awaiting her induced her to grovel toward them. ‘This is your wife?’ Troy inquired. ‘Yeah, Carol, and this is Nimrod,’ Georg said. ‘I guess you’re trained to satisfy 3 husbands,’ Jim noted. ‘Yes, sir.’ However, Jim and Troy were amazed by her large hooters. ‘Rocks fill those bags!’ Sebastian chortled. ‘Do you have rocks in your head?’ Troy sneered. ‘Yes, sir,’ Carol responded as Jim, Sebastian, Troy and Georg stripped. ‘Choke, you despicable whore!’ Jim snarled while thrusting his 11-inched penis into her mouth. He’d scarcely done that when Troy knelt behind her and rammed his 9-inched tool into her anus. ‘You dirty bitch!’ he yelled. Fifteen minutes later, Jim spooged her mouth and Troy her guts, though Sebastian masturbated into her hair. Next, Georg drilled his pecker into her vag, massaged it until he came in it and withdrew from her. The dog then stabbed his dick into her gooey snatch. ‘Fuck the 666 beast!’ Georg urged him. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ she moaned through an orgasm. ‘Christ almighty, this is unbelievable!’ Troy exclaimed shortly before Nimrod inseminated her vulva and jerked his pizzle from it. ‘It’s your duty to commit adultery, isn’t it?’ Georg reminded her. ‘Yes, sir,’ Carol said. After she. Nimrod, Georg and Sebastian went home, however, Georg filmed her and Nimrod rutting and uploaded the footage a site: The Cage. How appropriate for a beast! ~*~ Part 4 Naturally, Carol's second park experience was debasing, considering that Troy and Jim had learned about her 3 'husbands' while Jim had called her 'a despicable whore.' Since Sebastian and Georg relished opportunities to defame her, however, they requested the 33-y/o Javier to give her an embarrassing interview at The Voyeurs' Den which charged an admission fee. That occurred the Friday night 2 weeks later when she was wearing high-heeled shoes and collar. 'Will you be well-mannered if I release you from your cage?' Georg asked her a rhetorical question. 'Yes, sir.' 'Are you sure?' he responded. 'Yes, I am, sir,' Carol said. 'You promise not to howl, don't you?' Sebastian replied. 'Yes, I do. Where are we going, sirs?' Carol asked. 'You're destined to notoriety,' Georg answered. 'Yeah,' Sebastian said as he, Carol, Nimrod and Georg went to his car and he drove to The Den. 'You're Carol, aren't you?' the Latino Javier inquired. 'Yes, I am, sir,' she answered as Javier ushered her, Georg, Nimrod and Sebastian into his studio having a mirror-window in it. But she wasn't aware about 4 sensitive microphones in the ceiling and that an all-male audience could listen to every word. 'I'm Georg, this is Sebastian and Nimrod, the tramp's husbands,' the former said. 'Great meeting you,' Javier responded. 'Have a seat,' - and he gestured toward chairs before Sebastian, Georg and Carol sat down. 'Are you ready?' Javier said. Yes, I am, sir.' 'First, I must say you're lovely fuck-hole,' Javier complimented her. 'Thank you, sir.' 'You're welcome. How did you get to be a slut?' Javier replied. 'I don't know, sir.' 'Would you agree you're an impure female?' Javier said. 'Yes, I would, sir,' Carol responded, 'Okay, Sebastian and Georg, why do let her screw around?' Javier asked. 'She's worthless for anything else!' Sebastian smirked. 'Besides, nature manufactured her to please cocks by the literal 100's,' Georg remarked. 'He's exaggerating, isn't he?' Javier inquired. 'No, sir,' Carol fibbed. 'Do you have sex every day?' Javier asked. 'More than once a day, sir.' 'Really?' 'Yes, sir,' Carol said. 'Do you husbands ever kiss your wife?' Javier asked. 'Never,' Sebastian responded. 'She's vile, isn't she?' Javier said. 'Arc you, Carol?' Georg asked. 'Yes, sir!' 'Puta!' Javier growled as he exposed his 8-inched prick and stuffed it into her mouth after she'd knelt while Nimrod gouged his dick into her vag. Surprise then erupted among 30 white men who were stroking their pricks and observing the action, as they did unril Javier shot jizz into her throat and Nimrod squirt semen into her snatch. Next, Sebastian and Georg stripped, with Georg invading her ass. 'Uugghh, uugghh, uugghh!' she grunted. 'You filthy animal!' he snarled. 'Tu casa de perro (“you doghouse”)!' Javier sneered before Carol surrendered to a orgasm and Georg sauced her bowels. 'You're still a pervert!' Sebastian remarked while sinking his penis into and unloading in the same orifice. 'I always will be, sir!' 'Si, si, puta!' Javier grinned as Carol, Nimrod, Georg and Sebastian left, though she'd always remember that she was a 'vile!' ~*~ Part 5 Twice a week, Carol went to a beauty parlor. Throughout the next week while was she gone, Sebastian wore surgical gloves to collect Nimrod's sperm in jar which he stored in a bedroom refrigerator until a Saturday afternoon when she was drinking coffee in the kitchen. As well, she was dressed in panties and a bra. 'Did you buy some new clothes?' he inquired. 'I prefer being half-naked, sir,' she replied. 'Your immodesty suits you,' he answered. 'So does your depravity,' Georg remarked. 'Yes, sir!' 'You belong in the gutter!' he said. 'You're rude!' Sebastian chuckled. 'Thanks,' Georg answered, then: - 'Caffeine's an aphrodisiac.' 'Yes, sir,' Carol said. 'Are you horny?' Sebastian inquired. 'Yes, sir,' she answered. 'Take your bra and panties off,' Georg instructed. 'Yes, sir,' - and she stood to obey before Sebastian disappeared into his bedroom to bring the jar and a douche-bulb to the kitchen. 'Nimrod's supplied a drug,' he said as he opened the receptacles and emptied the jar into the bulb. He replaced its spout, thrust it into her ass and administered her an enema before he took her cup and held it under her. 'Defecate!' he snarled. 'Yes, sir!' Carol said as she complied. Next, he slid the nozzle out and buried it in her throat. 'Taste your poop!' he commanded. 'Uh-hmmm!' she nodded. Sebastian finally unplugged the spout and handed the beverage to her after she'd sat in her chair. 'Swill that, pig!' he laughed. 'Yes, sir!' Carol blushed. 'Our wife's a sow!' Georg remarked as Nimrod entered the kitchen, reared, aimed his dick into her snatch and triggered her orgasm to end the afternoon. ~*~ Part 6 Since Carol had received a large inheritance from her real husband, she didn't have a job until a company hired her to promote its business. And during supper the next Thursday, she announced, 'I'll be working, sirs.' 'Doing what?' Sebastian said. 'Demonstrating sex-toys. A customer's scheduled an appointment for tomorrow evening at 5, sir.' 'Your employer provided your phone number?' Georg asked. 'Yes, sir.' 'Congratulations. I'm proud,' Sebastian responded. 'Thank you, sir,' Carol replied. However, she didn't know it was the company's policy to send representatives to initial demonstrations, though she was wearing a short dress when she answered the door that evening. 'Hi, Carol. I'm Liam,' a white man startled her. 'H-e-l-l-o, s-s-sir.' 'Liam's an Irish name, isn't it?' Sebastian said. 'Yes, it is, and my ancestors kissed the Blarney Stone,' Liam replied before Georg whistled and Nimrod sauntered into the living room. Georg lifted his tail, shoved her to her kness and growled, 'Kiss your husband's stones!' 'Yes, sir!' Carol murmured as she started dehumanizing herself. 'Did you say husband?' Liam asked. 'Yeah, I did,' Georg answered as Liam dropped his jeans to display his 9-inched pecker. He began fondling it while Sebastian forced a vibrator and a dildo into her muff. Nimrod then turned and emptied his balls into her mouth. 'You shameful hussy!' Liam snorted. 'You're a slattern, aren't you, Carol?' Sebastian inquired. 'Yes, sir!' she admitted while an orgasm surged through her loins. 'Nimrod should divorce you!' Georg replied as he and Sebastian directed sperm into her oral pit. Nevertheless, Carol flinched when Liam shot jizz into her eyes. 'Weep, you poor, poor baby!' he taunted her. After that, he drew his jeans up. 'I'm finished and ready to report to my supervisor,' he said. 'Is she allowed to sell these devices?' Sebastian asked. 'Yeah, at a 75% discount,' Liam responded. 'Thank you, sir,' Carol bid him farewell, then: - 'Please don't divorce me, Nimrod!' But the dog's only answer was to bark! ~*~ Part 7 The following Saturday was the honeymoon's 3-month anniversary and Elroy's nineteenth birthday, with him, Sebastian, Nimrod and Georg celebrating both events at Carol's house. 'Time flies and I can't believe we've been hitched that long,' Georg said. 'Me, neither,' Sebastian replied, then: - 'You don't love your mother, do you, Elroy?' 'She's an obscene abomination,' Elroy quoted Georg. 'Yes, I am, sir,' responded Carol who was naked. 'You're glad Nimrod didn't divorce you, aren't you?' Georg asked. 'Yes, sir.' 'That's because he appreciates your promiscuity,' Georg said. 'Incest isn't any worse than bestiality, is it?' Sebastian inquired. 'No, sir.' 'You're an adulteress, aren't you, mom?' Elroy asked. 'Yes, sir.' 'That characterizes the sleaze-bag you are,' Georg answered as he, Sebastian and Elroy stripped. She lay on the floor; Elroy thrust his dick into her mouth while Nimrod steered his into her pussy. 'He's going to breed you!' Sebastian warned her. 'Whelp Nimrod a litter!' Georg suggested. 'I wouldn't mind sharing your motherhood,' Elroy said. 'You're generous,' Sebastian remarked. But Carol was taking pill. Nevertheless, Elroy battered her throat until he came in it and Nimrod her muff. They withdrew from her before Georg began destroying her snatch. 'Hurt me!' she begged him. 'You bet, I will!' he growled as he slimed her vag. However, he'd scarcely done that when Elroy flipped her off and said, 'Bless you, mother-dearest!' 'We cursed her in church, huh, Georg?' Sebastian inquired 'Yeah, forever!' Georg replied. 'I'm damned to hell, sirs!' Carol sobbed while Sebastian ejaculated into her mouth. 'Swallow your disgrace!' he ordered. 'Yes, sir.' 'Happy birthday, Elroy. Would you marry me?' she asked. 'You're twisted! But, why not?' Elroy answered. 'Thank you, sir.' She now had 4 'husbands,' though regretted that she couldn't 'whelp' Nimrod a 'litter.' (to be continued)
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Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense! I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands. Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air. Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs. Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties. Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face. “What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?” Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.” I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard. I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs. I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river. For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog. The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls. I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think. The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles. John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?” I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus. “Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet. “You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly. “I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?” I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears. The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.” John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?” The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.” “Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.” He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.” “Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.” “It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.” Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?” “We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt. Shivering, I close my eyes. “Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?” “Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad. I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light. “Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall. They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel. John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open. “There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.” Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.” “I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.” “Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.” “Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp. John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.” “Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?” “At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt. Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!” “Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?” “No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening. The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out. “This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.” John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling. John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me. “I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more. “This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.” “My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?” “If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.” Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face. “Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips. “Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?” Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue. “You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.” “I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently. “That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.” I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—” “That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.” John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.” I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.” “So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .” “Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.” I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?” The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.” I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.” John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.” I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy. “That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.” “More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John. Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.” “That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?” I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.” I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.” “You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.” I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.” “Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.” The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?” “Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?” John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?” I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee. “You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.” Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in. “Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.” Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works. “Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.” I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.” I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . . My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend. “Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep. “Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.” I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!” He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.” I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts. There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.” I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles. “Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!” “Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out. “I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.” “Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.” I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth. Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers. “Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.” I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly. I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out. John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue. At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.” I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.” “Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face. I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.” Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.” I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!” “Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works. “If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.” I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?” Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins. End of Part 2
Miriam Miriam · Fetish · MIRIAM It was the curve of her high-arched foot that first caught my attention. I was sitting in the graduate library trying to digest the impenetrable opacity of Kant's A Critique of Pure Reason for my upcoming Philosophy final exam, when I noticed her foot and quickly lost interest in Kant. I must have been staring at her feet, because she asked, "See anything you like?" I blushed vermillion and looked away, back to Kant, but the words merely danced before my eyes. I gazed back at her and saw her smile at me. I was a twenty-three year old virgin. I'd only gone out on a few dates and had never even kissed a woman. It wasn't that I hadn't any sexual desires. I had an overload of sexual urgings and desires, wants and needs, and was a chronic masturbator, typically masturbating 2-3 times a day. But when it came to asking women out, I was an absolute loser. The dates I had had been on had been set up with by friends or family. None of them lasted more than 2-3 dates before the women would quickly lost interest. When I gazed back at her, she suddenly arose, slipped her bare feet back into her flip-flops, and walked over to me sticking her hand out for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Natalie Goldman. And you are?" I mumbled my name to her and had to repeat it. "Well Jack Simms, nice to meet you." I told her it was very nice to meet her, too. "I'm sick of studying, want to go get something to eat?" She had such a pretty smile. Her black hair set off her olive-skinned face and dark brown eyes in the most captivating way. I realized that I was staring once again. "Sure. Where would you like to go?" She named a local pizza joint and we walked the three blocks there. We ordered a pizza and shared a pitcher of ice cold beer while waiting for our pizza. The place was half-filled with raucous rock and roll and undergrads on the make. Notwithstanding the myriad of conversations sprouting around us, we managed to have a conversation above the din. You know the type of conversation: What's your major? What year are you in? What's your favorite movie? Do you like reading Faulkner? We just clicked. I had never felt so comfortable with a woman. When there was a lull in the conversation, she looked intently at me and asked, "Back in the library, you were staring at my feet, weren't you?" I felt trapped, like beetle that's landed on its back and can't right itself. I blushed, I stammered, I looked away from her. "It's okay, you know. Nothing to be ashamed about." I attempted to respond to her question, but was torn by my humiliation. We continued eating and drinking in silence. After finishing the pizza, she invited me to the apartment that she shared with a roomie, and we had another couple of beers there, continuing our getting to know each other conversation. I realized that I was crazy in love with her as we shared our likes and loves and lives over the next couple of hours. She played a few LP's on her turntable as we sat on large pillows on her hardwood floor. We listened to Stevie Wonder and Al Green, Bill Withers and The Four Tops. I found myself staring at her feet as she sat cross-legged. I would turn away, my face flushed scarlet, only to slowly gaze back at her lovely feet, and see her smiling. This was my secret shame. I had become attracted to women's feet as a little boy, crawling around on the floor of our home, staring at my mother's feet and those of her friends that visited, fascinated by how pretty their feet looked. I had slowly graduated from the attraction stage to sneaking into my mother's closet and sniffing and licking the insoles of her sandals and open-toed mules, and later pulling her stockings out of her clothes hamper and inhaling that vinegary-cheddary scent from her feet that would cause my little penis to stiffen. Later yet, I would sit on her closet floor licking her shoes, sniffing and licking her stockings and panties, and masturbating by shoving my ever stiff cock through the toe hole of her well-worn mules or through the opening of her sandals. Somehow my mind had become cross-wired in such a way that women's feet were an instant sexual turn-on, and seeing women's bare or nylon clad feet was akin to seeing them naked. Every time I indulged in my mother's closet; I would walk away from there swearing that I would never do it again. But my oaths were empty and useless, and I would always return to worship there at her secret altar. Years had passed and my secret had remained hidden, concealed from the world. My own secret shame. But now, here was this very attractive young woman who had realized my secret. Upon her relentless questioning, I admitted that I had been staring at her feet and that I had a thing for women's feet and had since i was a kid. I apologized and moved to get up, thinking that I'd ruined any chance at having a relationship with this beautiful young woman. As I stirred, she reached over with her leg and pushed her left foot against my groin. "Don't go." I felt her grind her foot against my stiffening penis. I sat still feeling the pressure and movement of her foot against my now throbbing erection. Natalie smiled, "What have we here?" She grasped at the bulge with her toes as I shuddered. "Don't tell me that my feet have caused this?" I looked at her and nodded, blushing. "So my feet have that kind of power over you?" Again, I nodded, humiliated, wanting to leave, but unable to move out from under her foot. Natalie led me to her bedroom and after kissing and sniffing and licking her pretty feet, we made love again and again and I was a virgin no more. After that, we became inseparable. I soon proposed to her and she accepted. All of my life’s dreams were coming true. I was head over heels in love and happier than I’d ever dreamed of becoming. I met Natalie’s parents at a dinner celebrating our engagement. Her father was a large quiet man, who barely ever got a word in edge-wise as her mother was very opinionated and domineering. There was no question as to who ran that household. Her mother was brassy and loud and often obnoxious. She was a dead ringer for the late actress Colleen Dewhurst, not beautiful or even pretty, but handsome. Her voice was a bourbon and cigarette smoked croak. Her hair was a reddish-brownish dye job, and her eyes were her daughter's eyes, dark and mysterious. The dinner was held at their cottage and dress was casual. Miriam, my soon to be mother-in-law wore a cotton blouse, shorts and sandals. Her skin was bronzed from having spent so much time in the sun. She had large pendulous breasts and appeared to have put on quite a few pounds over the years. She had a beautiful butt, and thick meaty thighs. Her calves were muscled and her feet were every bit as sexy and shapely as her beautiful daughter's, but in a different way. I found myself mesmerized by them. In a moment alone, Natalie upbraided me for staring at her mother's feet. I apologized, but found myself staring at them again as we sat out on wooden lawn chairs on their deck overlooking the lake, having after-dinner drinks. Miriam wanted to know everything about me and I was inundated with a barage of questions from her. All the while her husband, Dave, stood by like a wooden Indian saying nothing. I noticed that he would refill her drink and asked her if she wanted anything. He doted on her and was quite attentive to her every need, yet she was dismissive of him, and occasionally openly hostile towards him. As we were talking, Miriam told Dave to massage her feet, and Dave dutifully knelt on the patio floor beside her lawn chair and began to knead her feet. Miriam croacked, "And after twenty-five years of marriage, Dave has gotten very good at massaging and pampering my feet. Haven't you, Dave?" Dave nodded in agreement as he continued to massage her sexy feet. "Natalie, does Jake massage your feet for you?" Natalie smiled and said, "Every chance he gets." It was strange hearing her tell her mother that I loved massaging her feet; it felt like a betrayal of sorts. Miriam moaned, "Nothing like a man who knows his place in life." There was a long pause and then Miriam said, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Jake. Natalie tells me that you love to lick her feet and suck her toes." I was stunned, Natalie knew that no one else in the world other than she knew my secret. What could have prompted her to share this secret shame of mine with my mother-in-law? I stared at her not knowing what to say. "Cat got your tongue?" Miriam asked. I watched as Natalie kicked off her flip-flops and stretched her legs until her feet were resting inches from my lips. "Go ahead, baby, show my mother how much you love licking my feet." Miriam was staring relentlessly at us in anticipation. Even Dave had turned his visage away from his wife's feet to see if I would lick his daughter's feet in their presence. When I didn't act, Natalie raised her right foot to my lips and dutifully, I began kissing and licking her right foot, as her left foot rubbed against my crotch. Dave managed a smile. "Looks like Natalie has found herself a foot man like her dad." Miriam slapped him across the face with her foot. "Who asked for your opinion, you moron? Get to it. Lick my feet!" And with that the twilight air was filled by the lapping of the waves of the lake against their seawall, the intermittent cries of seagulls, and the squishy sounds of our tongues licking our women's feet. Miriam smiled. "This is the life, Natalie. Looks to me if Jake is a keeper," before adding, "How well have you trained him?" Natalie responded, "Oh, I think you will find that i have him at my beck and call." Miriam peered at her, "Does he satisfy you sexually?" Natalie laughed, "He has a magical tongue, mom. He can make me cum again and again." I couldn't believe the direction this conversation was taking. But I continued licking Natalie's feet for her, or perhaps I should say, for me. "What about dick-wise?" "Oh, well, you can't have everything," Natalie answered. I was stunned. She'd never complained to me about the size of my penis or my ability to fuck her. Natalie turned to me, "Show mom your dick, baby." My mind was whirling. it was as if I had dropped out of everyday existence and found myself trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. "Go on, show her." I looked up at Natalie, my eyes begging her to save me from this further humiliation. But she was having none of it. "Now!" I stopped licking her feet, stood up and dropped my khakis to the patio floor. "You're not done yet, mister, drop your Jockeys, too." Sheepishly, I stepped out of my briefs, my cock semi-hard from having licked her feet and from the embarrassment of this humiliation. "Nothing to brag about, that's for sure," Miriam said. "Dave show him yours." Without missing a beat, Dave stood up and dropped his shorts. He was obviously going commando, and his cock slapped up against his gut. His cock was much bigger than mine, thicker, longer, and his balls were huge, like a pair of jumbo sized eggs. "You see, Jake, now that's a cock," Miriam seemed proud of the prodigious size of her husband's penis. "Poor Dave. He doesn't get any attention to his dick. We haven't had sex in years and I only allow him to masturbate once a month or so." I stared at the man's veiny throbbing erection, never having actually seen one that big, at least not in real life. "Perhaps you should get a better look at it, Jake." This was from Natalie. I stared back at her perplexed. "You heard my mom, dad only gets relief once a month, why don't you go over to him and give him some relief." She lifted her foot in the air towards me, and I felt powerless. I reached back over to her and licked and kissed her foot. Natalie said, "Enough of that. Now show dad what a magical tongue you have." I stared at her in disbelief. "You mean you want me to suck his cock?" Before Natalie could answer, Miriam piped in, "That's exactly what she wants, you twit. How can she make it any plainer for you?" Perhaps if I threw on my clothes and bolted for the car, I could escape this madness, get back to the lonely virginal existence that I had before I ever met Natalie. But Natalie became irate at my dawdling; she shot up in a sudden fury, pulled me by my hair and dragged me to her father's feet. "Suck his cock!" she yelled loud enough for the neighbors on both sides of them to hear. I tried to protest but she was pulling my face forward to his bobbing cock and balls. "I want you to lick and suck every inch of his cock, and do it now!" I'd never seen her like this. Sure she was dominant, but rarely in public. In the bedroom it was quite a different story, but I preferred it that way. Dave waited patiently as my lips brushed against the slippery head of his enormous erect cock. He was already dripping pre-cum in anticipation of having his cock sucked for the first time in years. For me this was new. Although sexually submissive and although I had masturbated looking at pictures of guys' cocks, I had never actually sucked one before. I opened my mouth and took his cock in, slipping my tongue and lips around his massive cock head. Miriam bellowed, "Natalie, you have trained him well. Look at him suck your father's cock!" It took only a few minutes of sucking him before he groaned and shot his thick, musky seed into my mouth, coating my tongue and tonsils with his gooey white semen, forcing me to swallow load after load of the stuff. It took a few moments but at last I’d sucked every last drop from his cock and Dave wiped his cock against my mouth before thanking Miriam and returning to his place at her feet. The night ended up with all of us naked in their king-sized bed. I ate Miriam's hairy pussy and lapped at her malodorous hairy asshole, working my tongue deep into her rectal recesses while she clenched and unclenched her anal spincter, squeezing and unsqueezing my tongue. I performed another round of fellatio on Dave and he ended up fucking me as I ate his wife's ass and pussy. Natalie sat and fingered herself to multiple orgasms. By Monday morning, having spent three nights at her family's cottage, Natalie and I drove home to her apartment, she as my mistress and I as her slave. We were married three months later and the chains that bound me to her became ever tighter, ever closer, evermore inescapable. As the years went by, Natalie took a series of lovers, all with larger penises than mine, all better suited at satisfying her sexually. I would lick and suck their cum out of her openings, bringing her to orgasm the only way i could, orally. I orally pleasured Miriam, licking her feet, eating her hairy pussy and licking and sucking her asshole, sometimes meticulously clean and other times quite ripe, my tongue coated with the remnants of her morning shit. I sucked Dave's thick cock and learned to love having him fuck me as Miriam and Natalie reveled in my utter submission. In my moments of solitude, I would think back with wonder that all of this was as a result of that fateful day in the library when the curve of Natalie's arch made me stare at her, winning my lust and my heart in the bargain.
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