Bikini Dreams
My sex life in the year since the divorce was virtually non-existent. I had only had two one fighters; both losers and one other fling. I really enjoyed that one. She was the tart that worked in the club that caused the divorce in the first place. Apparently, she liked me and my tongue better than my ex. He couldn’t stand it. I loved it.
From the moment I sat my chair down in the sand, I new that today was going to be a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sea breeze kept the heat from being unbearable and the ocean was calm and clear. I had decided to treat myself to 4 days at the beach. My ex had the kids so I grabbed my sun-tan oils, my books and my favorite dildo and headed for a few days of rest, relaxation and masturbation.
What could possibly make this better, I thought.
When the two young women who were occupying the towels 30 feet in front of me, emerged from the water, I found my answer. These two beauties had sexy written all over them. Each had blond hair bleached by the sun and the sea and each was lightly tan; natural for sure, not baked in a room or sprayed on.
The taller of the two also had the longer, lighter hair. This girl was tall, probably 5'9, with legs that never seemed to end and a stomach that was smooth and tight. Her bikini was bright red with strings tied in bows on her hips. Her breasts were almost certainly a b-cup, shaped perfectly and bouncing lightly with every step. The cool water had her nipples standing at attention and straining to push through the fabric of her top.
Her friend was not quite as tall, maybe 5'6 with a short bob cut of hair. Her boobs were slightly larger than her friends’ with a wonderful swing as she walked directly towards me. I could see the outline of her areola through her white top and could almost see through her wet bikini bottoms. I was delighted to see that there was most definitely no hair underneath.
I closed my eyes and could see them clearly; only now they weren’t wearing any suits. The water was dripping from their hardened nipples and gliding down their legs. My mind was working overtime as I pictured them settling on the towels in front of me.
My mind placed these girls in all kinds of situations. Every fantasy I could devise popped into my minds eye. First they were cheerleaders in the locker room, and then they were nurses, then lifeguards on the beach; and my very favorite, a teacher being seduced by her student. The taller blond was the more powerful presence and dominated my day-dreams. Each fantasy ended with one girl’s tongue lapping at the others clit. I was getting hornier by the minute. I could barely wait to get back to my condo. I knew that I would enjoy myself tonight while my fantasies continued.
When I opened my eyes, I watched as each girl slowly dried herself off. My eyes darted from one girl to the other as they rubbed and patted the water from their suits and skin. The taller girl bent to dry her legs and poked her ass in my direction. I was in heaven.
Her bottom was flawless. It was small and round and firm. She had a small tattoo of a butterfly at the top of her ass and the cutest little dimples on the small of her back. She re-spread her towel on the sand and treated me to a full view of her magnificent legs and exquisite ass as she knelt to lie back down.
She reached around her back and untied her bikini top. I could just see the outline of the tan lines on the sides of her boobs as she lay on her chest. Her hands slipped down her hips and rolled her bottoms down to the very top of her ass.
“Tanya, how about rubbing some oil on my back?”
“Sure Mal. Then you can do mine.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I had lucked into the hottest spot on the beach and was enjoying every second of it. I could feel the warmth in my body growing. My sunglasses could hide my eyes, but my nipples were about to rip through my suit top and I hadn’t even been in the water yet. I knew if either of these girls looked my way, they would know that I was watching them; and that they were turning me on.
I decided to take a dip in the water myself. Maybe a swim would cool my jets just a little. I laid my glasses on my chair and walked by my two beauties. I tried to keep from staring since my eyes were no longer hidden. I knew they would see the lust in my eyes.
Thankfully, neither girl looked as I walked past. Tanya; miss bob-cut, was squirting baby oil onto her friends bare back and smearing it in with her hands. I wanted to sit on the sand beside her and watch each stroke.
‘I would cum all over myself and drool all over her,’ I thought to myself.
I dove into the ocean and tried to shake the scene from my head. I wanted so bad to slide my hand into my bikini.
‘No one will see me out here,’ I thought.
I slipped my hand down my suit and traced a finger over my slit. I felt a jolt shoot through my body into my pussy. I could feel an orgasm building deep inside but I knew I could not finish this in public. I reluctantly withdrew my fingers and decided to return to my ring side seat.
I slipped back past my fantasy friends and filled my eyes and my mind with their lovely shapes once again. My knees trembled as I walked by. I had to keep myself from begging them to let me masturbate for them. They would probably want to have me arrested.
When I sat back down, my mind immediately began to wander. The scenes were more vivid than before. The tall blond, Mal, was standing over her naked friend, naked herself, but for the strap-on dildo buckled around her hips. Tanya turned on her knees and thrust her ass up to her friend.
“Fuck me Mal, please. I want you on top of me.”
“That’s my girl!”
Again my hand began to wander down my stomach. I looked around nervously.
‘Wait!’ I thought. ‘I can lay my magazine over my lap and hide my hand.’
I tore through my beach bag and pulled out my Cosmo. I spread it across my lap and slipped my hand under the pages. Slowly, I tickled my clit through the fabric of my bikini. I bit my lower lip to stifle back each moan and gasp.
I closed my eyes and continued my sex dreams.
This time, the girls were in my condo. Mal, the tall one, was in her bikini and dancing in the living room. Tanya was naked and kneeling in front of her and was untying the straps on her bikini. I was sitting naked on the couch watching the show and was furiously rubbing my clit.
My hand was now inside my bikini and I had slipped a finger into my pussy.
‘I need to cum!’ I thought.
I stood and quickly wrapped my towel around my waist. I ran the last 100 yards towards my condo and tore my bikini off as I pushed through the door. I fell to the floor and shoved two fingers deep into my pussy. I came instantly.
I screamed as the orgasm plowed through my body and fueled the fire inside of me, each wave stronger than the last. I lay back on the floor and pulled my knees to my chest. I continued fucking my fingers and began working my clit with my other hand. I was lost. I could only think of cumming again and again. Orgasms swept through me over and over, soaking my hands and the carpet beneath me
When my body stopped shaking, my mind came back through the clouds. I pulled myself to my knees and licked the cream from my fingers.
‘I have to get back to the beach.’
The End
Drunken Encounter
I’m married with two kids, 36 years old, 5'3", brunette, 38-30-36. My friends and I sometimes have a girl’s night in where we lay on some food and bring dinks, getting our husbands to pick us up later if we are further than walking distance home. On this occasion we went to my friend Tracy’s house.
She is 38 and six of us turned up altogether. Her husband and son spent the evening upstairs out of the way and we all had a good laugh and got well drunk.
As I lived fairly near, I helped tidy up a bit as the others made their way home or lifts arrived. Tracy’s husband came down to help too and the three of us laughed at how drunk the two of us were. Tracy suddenly became all sleepy and Neil took her upstairs while I finished drying the plates, giggling at the sight of Neil trying to push Tracy’s heavy frame upstairs. He eventually came back down and said that Tracy had fallen into a deep sleep, snoring her head off.
He sat on the sofa with a drink and asked if I wanted one. I’d had more than enough to drink and flopped on the sofa besides him, half falling.
I giggled and he laughed, but I became aware of the room slowly spinning as I noticed how drunk I really was.
“Oh I do feel drunk,” I slurred.
“Will you be OK walking on your own, or shall I walk you home” Neil offered.
“I don’t think I can walk just yet,” I slurred yet again as I thought I might recover after a little sit down.
Neil put his arm round my shoulder and I sort of fell towards him, but the effects of the drink made me actually like being held close although I knew if I was sober I would have moved away by now.
I was dressed all in black, wearing a skirt and long sleeved v-neck top – with black bra and panties underneath of course - as well as black shoes, and Neil began stroking my right shoulder.
Our legs were innocently resting against each other’s and my left hand was half on my leg and half on his.
I became aware that our faces were very close to each other and I felt a little embarrassed that I would smell of alcohol.
Neil was still laughing and joking and I tried to smile although I was losing track of what we were talking about.
It went quiet and I remember we smiled at each other and then Neil kissed me.
The thought that I shouldn’t be doing this never entered my head, I was so drunk, and I found myself kissing back. My hand gripped Neil’s thigh and he tightened his grip around my shoulder.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I thought to myself, but I swear the drink had made me erotic to a level that I just didn’t care.
Normally I would have never even let someone else touch me, never mind kiss me passionately. We continued to kiss and it felt lovely, and Neil’s left hand started stroking my hips and waist, which sort of encouraged me to put my right hand onto his shoulder.
This seemed to bring us even closer together and our kisses seemed to become more intense, occasionally pausing to take a breath.
Neil’s hand slipped under my skirt and onto my knee and as I gasped he pushed his tongue into my mouth to meet mine. My head was spinning as our tongues met and his hand pushed further up my skirt, tickling my leg as he stroked it.
I then became aware that my right breast was being squeezed as we kissed and that I was slowly sliding down towards the seat of the sofa. Neil seemed to be lying across me, his right arm beneath me and around my shoulder as the room ceiling looked as though it was spinning.
I remember feeling his hand against my skin on my waist and ribs and remember feeling shocked that my bra was somehow unfastened and his hand slipped underneath it and grabbed at my breasts.
But although I knew I should stop I found myself return the harder kisses that Neil was now giving me.
At last he stopped and looked down at me, moving his hand away from my breasts and erect nipples.
For a second I thought it was all over, and felt relieved, but then felt Neil’s hand at the top of my leg. The surprise I felt that my skirt must have been so high up to allow direct access to my bare thigh was nothing to the surprise I felt next as Neil moved his hand up to the side of my hips and onto my knickers and then grabbed them tightly before pulling downwards.
I’m sure I tried to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out and then Neil kissed me as he gave another pull on my knickers.
I was just about to say, “Neil, we cant” as his left hand darted between my legs.
I was shocked speechless that another man was feeling my most sensitive parts and then completely dumbstruck when he slid two fingers into me.
I remember trying to force my self not to react but couldn’t avoid gasping as he found my clitoris and began to stimulate me even more.
I was gasping more and more as he continued to stroke me, conscious that we were breathing warm breaths into each other’s mouths.
Just as I felt I was about to come, Neil moved his hand away and for a second I thought my ordeal was over.
But instead Neil gripped my knickers and slid them past my knees.
Oh no, I silently cried as I finally realised what my friend’s husband wanted to do to me.
“Come on honey” he whispered as I refused to bend my knees, but he leant further down and my knickers slid off the end of my right foot.
I thought I had a chance of calling a halt as I knew he couldn’t really reach my left foot but he didn’t even try to get them completely off and moved his hand to his trousers.
The unmistakeable sound of a zip being unfastened brought me to say “oh no Neil, we cant,” but he just kissed me as he shuffled around obviously pushing his trousers and underpants down.
He lifted my skirt and I closed my eyes almost in shamed embarrassment, as I knew he’d be looking at where my knickers should be.
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I felt the bareness of his thighs as first his left then his right leg pushed between my legs, while his hands lifted my jumper upwards exposing my breasts.
“God I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first set eyes on you” he heavily breathed.
“Oh,” I whimpered not knowing what to say.
“You can’t imagine how often I’ve wanted to feel these gorgeous tits of yours, they’re fantastic,” he said.
Before I could think of anything to say he was kissing me again his knees pushing my thighs further apart.
I started to come to my senses, what if my friend came down or heard us I thought, we cant do this.
But it was too late as I felt his cock starting to enter me.
I gasped as he supported himself on his left elbow and began fondling my left breast with his right hand.
Moaning gently as I felt his cock move further and further into me.
Even in my drunken state I could sense that his cock was thicker and longer than my husbands even though he wasn’t much different in physique, as he began to thrust into me faster and harder and grip my breast tighter.
I couldn’t help moan out loud to some of his thrusts and the more I tried to suppress any noise the louder I seemed to become.
“Oh yes, fuck me darling,” Neil uttered as he kept up his rhythm.
I felt shameful as I realised I was thrusting back against him and we were truly having sex. Unusually, I could sense that I was about to come, and fought against losing control.
He let go of my breast and pulled my leg upwards, and I almost automatically raised my right leg too to wrap my legs around him.
“Oh yes darling, I haven’t had it like this for years,” he grunted as I pushed into me even harder.
My intentions to object to the force were overruled by the arrival of my orgasm as his cock had an effect on me that I hadn’t experienced before.
The only thing I could think of was that I hope his wife and son couldn’t hear me, and he asked “is that good honey, do you like me fucking you?”
I tried not to answer but he added, “Do you like it darling?” to which I gasped “yes, oh yes.”
With that he let out a strange growl as I realised he too was coming.
We lay motionless for a while, both probably hoping that we hadn’t been heard, and then he said, “that was fantastic, you’re a great fuck you are.”
I suddenly felt as though I wasn’t drunk anymore as the seriousness of what we had just done began to sink in.
“Did you enjoy that darling?” he asked.
I wanted to say no but couldn’t bring myself to say anything and meekly nodded in almost guilty admission, as I realised I had enjoyed it.
He kissed me and fondled both my breasts and said “I want you naked.”
“No, we cant,” I replied.
“I want you again darling, that was brilliant sex, we can’t leave it as a one off,” he added.
Even though I didn’t feel drunk, my mind was still spinning, “we can’t do it again its too risky,” I spoke the first excuse that came into my head.
“I don’t want this to be a one-off darling, I need to have you again unless you want to promise you’ll do it again another time, I’m going hard again already.”
That last statement jolted me into wanting to get out of there. Now that I was thinking a little straighter than before there was no way I wanted anyone to see or hear us.
“I’ve got to get back Neil” I tried reasoning.
“Don’t go yet, we can do it again, naked” he replied.
“Its really late,” I said in an effort to be as obstructive as possible.
“Tell me we’ll do it again another time then” he added, as though conceding to my argument.
“I don’t know” I honestly replied.
“It’s got to be now then,” he said, beginning to slowly rock back and forth on top of me.
“No, ok, another time,” I reluctantly said, shocking myself that I’d agreed to it.
“You promise?” he eagerly asked.
I thought for a while, if I refused to promise I knew he would force the issue there and then, if I promised then it bought me some time to try to find a way of backing out of my promise.
“Ok” I quietly replied.
As though he’d just been offered a new job he eagerly replied “you wont regret it, no-one will ever know, and we can have some great sessions, your place, my place, in the countryside, its going to be great” he said.
Inside I thought, hey hang on a minute, but decided not to take this conversation any further. We got up, got dressed and he walked me the short distance home in almost complete silence, exchanging a pleasant “good night” as we parted.
Oh my god, what do I do now?
The End
Fucking Friends
It’s another Friday evening, and I’m getting ready to go out for an evening of drinks and dancing with my 2 roommates after a long week. My name’s Christine and I room with 2 guys, Dave and Troy. They’re great guys, and we’ve been friends now for years, so we decided to split the cost of an apartment and room together for awhile. These two guys are my best friends, and we’ve shared with each other all the ups and downs of our various relationships. After all these years, our friendship seems to be the most enduring, and now all three of us are happily unattached. When we’re not working, we spend most of our time together, and tonight was no exception.
We’ve never really thought of each other sexually, but we do get flirty with each other from time to time, and each of us has our own alluring assets that we can flaunt when we want. We sometimes get sexy and fresh with each other, but it’s mostly just playing around. Sometimes we’ll walk down the street together, with me in the middle holding each of their hands, one on either side. We sometimes get strange looks, and the occasional “hey, which one is the lucky guy?”, but we just enjoy being together.
And we like to check each other out sometimes too. To be honest, I’ve always enjoyed seeing how Troy and Dave fill out their shorts. Dave has an average build, and Troy is tall and lanky. They are both hot in their own way, and each has their different strengths. Dave is stockier and possesses a full and meaty crotch that is visible when he sits in the right position, and when I’m viewing from the right angle. Troy has a hot little ass and likes to show it off with tight pants. I also think he has a really long cock since I can sometimes see its outline through his tight jeans.
It has been a rough week, and we’re all getting ready to go out for a night on the town. Dave and I are waiting for Troy to get ready and are just hanging around on the couch. Tonight I enjoy watching the shifting mound between Dave’s legs as he sits there reading the paper. I try to imagine the shape of his cock and balls. His balls are obviously huge, seeing the way they fill out the crotch of his shorts. One thing I know about Dave as well was that he never wears underwear. “Too confining”, he says. So I know that just one layer of cotton lay between my eyes and his hot manhood. Even better, when he shifts around crossing and uncrossing his legs, I can see the shape of his huge bulge change as his balls and cock move around. Sometimes I can even catch a glimpse up the side of his shorts of some of his balls and cock shaft. I am careful to be discrete so he doesn’t know that I am looking. Tonight though, as I watch him, I’m starting to get horny and wet fantasizing about his meat. What would it be like to hold it, massage it, even take it in my mouth as I rub his hot body?
Just then Dave walks into the room and he’s looking good too. True to form, he has on his tight pants, and I enjoy watching him strut around the room, picking things up. I start wondering what it would be like to grab his bare ass and pull him into me as we fuck. Ok, maybe my imagination is getting a little carried away right now, driven by my growing wetness and engorging clit. I decide then and there to play a little game with my buddies. I want to see if I am as hot in their eyes as they are in mine, even if it is just friendly admiration.
I start subtly, by getting up, and discretely adjusting my pants. I pull the waist up fairly high so the pant seam is riding up my crotch and into my ass crack. Then I sit down again, spreading my legs ever so discretely. I glance down at myself and can see my labia clearly protruding through my jeans and my newly tightened crotch. It looked hot, and even better, the front seam of my pant was rubbing up against my clit and making me feel even hornier. But I was careful not to start rocking my hips to further stimulate my clit since that might give me away.
After some time, I notice Dave and Troy are oblivious to my show, so I decide to turn it up a little. With my pants still high, I get up and start moving around the room, hoping they would notice. Shaking my slightly wedgied ass ever so slightly, and knowing that my labia was still clearly visible as I walked around.
“You all ready to go?”, Dave asks.
“Hang on a minute,” I say. “It’s a little warm tonight and I don’t want to sweat too much on the dance floor.”
I go into my bedroom to change my cloths and decide on a casual silky dress. This one is always a little more clingy than I feel totally comfortable in, but I wear this one when I want to feel hot and have others take some notice. And I do one more thing. I strip off my panties and bra too. Too hot outside, I reason. And besides, I want to shake it a little on the dance floor tonight with my guys. Then I come back into the room.
Dave looks up and takes notice, “Hey you look great, Christine. Can I get the first dance tonight?”
“Sure thing, baby,” I say, and smile wryly as we all shuffle off for drinks, one of them on each arm.
This night on the dance floor, I certainly do feel sexy, and am getting more attention than I anticipated. I even think Dave and Troy are getting a little jealous, since they both start hanging around me more closely at the bar, perhaps to keep other guys away. But the only two guys I want to turn on tonight are Dave and Troy, and I think it is finally beginning to happen.
I know what each of my buddies likes. Dave is an ass man, and Troy likes nice boobs. I can give them each what they like, and they seem to start competing for my attention.
Troy is in front of me now, and I can see him stealing glimpses down my bra-less blouse. I casually lean over a little as we laugh together to give him a better view, and I know my erect nipples are clearly visible. I’ve been told I have the most awesome nipples, as they get very long and erect when I get horny, and tonight I am. My nipples are pushing my dress out and making points in the silk, plus my boobs were shaking as we were dancing. I can now see the outline of Troy’s cock and the shaft through his tight pants. He must be getting turned on, but he’s not letting on.
On the other side of me, Dave is sitting at the bar stool, his legs apart and his crotch mound nicely filling out his shorts. He’s an ass man, so I was sure to shake my pantiless booty for him on the dance floor. At the bar, I “accidentally” back up into him from time to time, briefly pressing my soft butt cheeks into his thigh or balls. I know he is getting turned on because the mound in his pants is even larger than usual. I began to wonder if I would even be able to contain the size of his manhood if he were ever within me. But, I think, “hey, we’re just having fun!”
After several more hours of drinking, talking, flirting, flashing and bumping against each other, my mind starts getting more serious about things. I am thinking, “These guys are hot, they turn me on, I turn them on, they are my best friends, so why not? To be honest with myself, I’d love to fuck them. Each one separately and, why not, even both together.”
I was surprised by my thoughts, but as I begin to entertain them, my heart rate starts to increase and I realize my mind is actually getting serious about this and that this could actually happen. How could we start it? I wouldn’t want to do one of my guys before the other, since that would hurt the guy who didn’t get it first. Ok, so it’s settled. I’ll do them both at the same time. If they are game of course. I hope they don’t think I’m a horny idiot or something. Let’s see, there are two cocks, and I have at least three holes to put them, so that works out. Plus, we have three mouths and three tongues between us to round out the pleasure. Ok, time to move on with the evening.
“Hey guys, it’s getting kindda hot in here. What do you say we go home and turn up the music and have drinks there?”, I innocently suggest.
Neither hesitates, and Dave blurts out, “Great idea!” Always the hornier one, he is.
When we get back to our apartment, Troy pulls off his shirt (it was hot outside after all!), we all kicked off our shoes, leaving them at the door as usual. I plop down on the couch, pulling my dress up a little to cool my legs off. Oh, and I also continue my flashing game by pulling my dress up a little too high so they can catch a glimpse of my pussy if they want. Dave notices first. He plops down across from me, pants tight against his crotch, slightly opening his legs, and showing the gap up his leg. I know if I shift my view a little, his balls will be fully visible. Then Troy comes up and sits down next to me, taking time to glance down my dress at my increasingly hard nipples.
“So what tunes should I put on?”, I excitedly ask.
Jumping up, I am sure to wiggle myself a bit from top to bottom. I put on some rock and start to dance for them.
“You look so fucking hot Christine”, Dave declares.
“You got that right”, echoes Troy.
“Hey guys, let’s dance it up”, I say, but as I spin around I lose my balance, fall down, and feel Dave reach out and grab me to break my fall. It was no disappointment to me that my head landed squarely in his lap, and I could feel his bulge under me like a meaty pillow.
He starts stroking my head, asking “hey you alright baby?”
“I am now”, I say.
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Without knowing what I am doing, I start to press my head into his crotch and rub his balls back and forth with the side of my head. I don’t know what he is going to do. Is he going to freak out and stop me? I can always feign dizziness. Instead, and to my delight, he starts to pull my head into him, pressing it into his crotch even more. I can feel his cock start to harden. I turn, look deep into his eyes with a serious and earthy gaze, turn my head, and started munching his mound through his shorts. His hardness increases rapidly and soon his erect cock is bulging under his cloths.
“That’s so hot Christine, and you look so beautiful,” Dave says.
His words increase my heat and I slowing begin to unzip his pants, eventually freeing his cock, then his balls, one by one. They are magnificent, and I take each one into my mouth, like large tomatoes and roll them around with my tongue. Then I start to lick his shaft.
I am now laying half on the floor and half in the chair, enjoying Dave, when I realize my dress has ridden up behind me and my ass is in clear view. It must have looked very inviting, because I begin to feel Troy come up behind me, first stroking my legs, then my thighs, then my ass.
Troy asks, “Hey are we all ok with this?”, but I was so into it already, and did not reply.
Both my guys took that as a “yes” and then things begin to get even hotter. Troy begins to rub my ass, squeezing my round cheeks, spreading them open, and working his was down to my asshole. He passes over my anus with a flick, which sends a tingle up my spine, and then he moves straight to my cunt which is now dripping wet. His fingers part my pussy lips and slip past my labia into my silky dark wetness. As soon as his fingers hit my juice, I feel him relax. They both know now that I wanted this as much as they did.
Troy begins pushing his fingers deep into me from behind. He starts with two fingers, sliding back and forth and spreading my pussy wetness everywhere as he pulls my juices out from within me. My pussy is so wet that he is able to easily slide in a third finger and pump his hand in and out, penetrating more deeply each time. With his other hand he reaches around and starts rubbing my clit. He pulls my wetness up to my clit and begins to push his fourth finger into my dripping cunt. I don’t know if I can take a fourth finger, but I want it so bad. I start to arch my back to open my entrance wider, and shift a little to allow the additional size to penetrate and enter me. It does.
At the same time, Troy takes his clit stoking hand, and brings it around to the rear. He picks up some of my pussy juice, which is now starting to run down my leg, and uses it to lubricate and start rubbing my asshole. It is my first time having someone else do this to me, and the sensation was sooo intense. I’ll do it to myself sometimes and imagine how I would pant if I ever had a full cock up there. I press my ass down toward him so he knows that I like it. Troy keeps rubbing, and occasionally begins to penetrate his wet finger into my asshole, feeling it’s tight grip and gentle moving it in and out.
I am so fucking horny now. Dave’s cock is in my mouth, Troy’s four fingers in my cunt, and his other finger teasing my asshole. I imagine how hot my cunt must look with my labia and skin pulling in and out, encompassing Troy’s hand. He begins to go deeper into me now, and starts hitting my g-spot. I feel my cunt walls begin to quiver and begin to feel the increasing wetness of my build-up as my g-spot is poked. Just then, I begin coming hard and start spraying my wetness all over Troy, covering him with my love juice. I am a little embarrassed at first, but his response soothes me.
“That is so fucking hot Christine, I want to eat you and all your wetness,” he pants.
The next thing I feel is Troy’s tongue parting my pussy lips from behind, taking the place of his fingers. I am so fucking wet down there, and then he starts moaning. I start feeling and hearing him slurping up my juice and then listen as he swallows it, moaning deeply! It is so hot knowing that my juice is sliding around his throat.
At the same time, I am still working on giving Dave head. His cock is everything I imagined it to be and his balls are so huge and exciting. I am massaging his balls with both my hands, while working on his cock shaft and head with my mouth and tongue. I feel like I am worshiping his cock, with both my hands and mouth all working on him at the same time. I can look up into his eyes and see the pleasure it is giving him, which turns me on even more. After my long tongue strokes up his shaft, I take his plump cock head into my mouth and began sucking on it hard. This sends quivers through his body and proclamations of “Ohhh yes, Christine, yesss.”
I keep sucking on his cock head and feel his pre-cum starting to ooze. It tastes earthy and sweet. I play with it in my mouth and want more. I begin to suck even harder to draw more of it out of his cock. Then I begin to take more of his cock into my mouth, slowly lubricating his full shaft with my saliva, sucking and spitting him into and out of my mouth. We are making such sexy noises, which turns the heat up even more. The suction sounds fill the air and I hope the neighbors can’t hear! His cock is so big that at times I think I am going to gag, but at this moment, I don’t care.
Dave begins to get more and more wet with pre-cum, and his increasing love juice is mixing in my mouth with my saliva. As I draw his cock out of my mouth to catch my breath, the strings of his pre-cum are hanging between his cock and my wide open jaw. It looks so cool, and I wish I had a camera. I plunge my head back down on him, deep throating his shaft, and see Dave roll his eyes back.
I am feeling very sexy now, having a 3-some with two of by best friends. I feel like a taken woman, sucking one guy from the front, and getting eaten by another from the rear. I totally submit myself to this horny fest, and feel good about giving myself this way. This is so hot, 3 horny friends, panting with passion, dripping with wetness, and loving every second of it. My two best friends inside my body, and all giving each other pleasure and exchanging our sexy love juices. Dave’s cock is filling my mouth to overflowing. My jaw is opened so damned wide, but I just keep sucking and sucking, kneading his balls.
Troy has now finished his eager cunnilingus (and as the saying goes, “eating me like he means it”). He raises himself up, his mouth smiling and glistening with my pussy cum, and he begins stripping off his tight jeans. He fumbles with his fly, and I know he is a raging stallion now. His eyes show his passion and I know he will give me a good fuck. As he strips, I see for the first time his beautiful and incredibly long cock emerge from his jeans. If I wasn’t busy at the moment pleasuring Troy, I would love to go down on him and suck him good. His cock would make me gag for sure, but that will have to wait for the next time we are all together.
Troy comes up behind me and begins to insert his cock head and long shaft into my blazing and dripping cunt. My incredible wetness offers his cock no entry resistance, and I shift and position myself on all fours to better open my pussy up as wide as possible, to give him the deepest penetration opening. And man, is he penetrating me. Long, slow, deep thrusts. His shaft is so long, and his length seems to never end as it slides in and out of me. I have never been before been penetrated so deeply and it feels so fucking good. I can see my abs move as he thrusts in and out of me, and know by that how fucking deep he is in my body. I reach down and start to rub my throbbing clit.
There is only one possible outcome here; I knew my 2 friends’ cum is soon going to spew into me and fill me from both ends. Just the thought of their cum filling me and dripping from me at both ends makes move grind my hips and suck even harder. And it is so hot thinking about all my pussy juice dripping down Troy’s mouth and throat right now. The thought of my cum down his throat throws me over the top and I begin to feel the building orgasm in my pussy walls. My cock muffled groans push Dave over the top as well and I feel his cock begin to spasm in my mouth.
At that moment, Dave begins exploding his cum into me in a torrent of his orgasmic release. He is so deeply in my mouth that there is nothing I can do but swallow his ribbons of cum straight down my throat, but I want to savor some too. As he’s blasting into me, I swallow most of it, but keep a lot in my mouth to savor the taste and texture. And I want him to see me playing with it. I lick my lips with my cum covered tongue, and he holds me closer. I open my mouth, twirling the cum with my tongue, playing with the slippery texture of the earthy nectur. It tastes sweet, like the wine he was drinking. And just moments ago, it was in those beautiful balls. I begin savoring the taste, closing my eyes, swishing it in my partly opened mouth, and then swallowing the last drops down. I return to milk and suckle Dave’s cock.
Thinking about what we’re doing, my pussy walls begin to violently contract, providing the most amazing orgasmic sensation. My contractions in turn set Troy over the top. I feel his body begin to shudder and his monster cock repeatedly plunging deep into me. His cock begins to swell and pulsate, and he begins gushing his hot cum into my body.
The three of us keep sucking and sliding until the pulsating orgasmic contractions finally began to ebb. We then begin to slow the hungry rhythmic pace, and milk out a few more final orgasmic pulses before we all collapse on top of each other, drenched, sated and happy. We are best friends, and nothing is going to change that now.
The End
Brockton’s Big Booty Librarians
There is nothing quite like the feeling of sheer pleasure and accomplishment I get when I put in my time and energy towards a worthwhile enterprise. Just call me a modern man at work, know what I mean? Well, if you don’t know then you soon will. My name is Barry O’Shea and I am a young man of Haitian-American and Irish descent living in the great city of Brockton, down in the state of Massachusetts. Oh, and I’m a closet bisexual too. Hope that’s cool with you. In case it isn’t, you can kiss my ass. This here is my story. It takes place during the Summer of 2008. Right after school closed and summer began.
I attend the little-known establishment of Brockton State College or BSC on a student-athlete scholarship. Football, to be specific. I’ve been a great football player ever since my days at Brockton High School. And I was one of the few hyoung men out there who were good enough to play college football. BSC is a small public school with eleven thousand students. Most of the student body is African-American, Latino or Asian. More than half of us are racial and ethnic minorities. And that works just fine for me. A biracial brother like myself doesn’t feel so out of place. BSC has excellent varsity teams in Men’s Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Football, Wrestling, Soccer, Rugby, Swimming, Volleyball, Wrestling, Ice Hockey and Lacrosse along with Women’s Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Field Hockey, Rugby, Equestrian, Soccer, Swimming, Volleyball, Wrestling, Ice Hockey and Lacrosse. We compete in the NCAA Division Two.
The Brockton State College football team had a tough season this year. We lost in the division championships to Stonehill College. I was on the bench during the final minutes of the game and I hated it. If you ask me, we would have won had I played. Wishful thinking gets you nowhere, unfortunately. Sucks, huh? Oh, well. There’s always next year. The summer of 2008 had come and I found myself quite bored. I was spending a lot of time at the Brockton Community Library. I was one bored brother. So I found some way to kill time. By seducing some of Brockton’s big-booty librarians.
There were a lot of plump beauties working at the library. I hooked up with a nineteen-year-old plump black chick named Sabisha Johnson in the archives room of the Brockton Community Library’s Main Branch. Sabisha works at the library but she isn’t one of the librarians. She’s more like an assistant or something. That’s okay with me, though. This chick was hot. She was around five feet seven inches tall, large-breasted, wide-hipped and big-bottomed. I noticed her checking me out when I sat in a corner reading. I also couldn’t help noticing her seriously huge ass. So I wanted to get me a piece of that. And so I did. Sabisha was easy to get. She already had a thing for me. I can’t blame her. A six-foot-two, 250-pound, pretty-faced brother like me was definitely a catch for any female with common sense. We had some fun together.
Sabisha was a pretty dark-skinned plumper with some big lips. And she knew how to use them. I leaned against the wall of the Archives room and whipped out my dick. Nine inches of long and thick, uncircumcised black dick. Yeah, I’m uncut and proud. If nature didn’t want men to have foreskin, she wouldn’t have given it to them. And nature never makes mistakes. Sabisha sucked on my long dick and licked my big hairy balls. This broad definitely knew what she was doing. I gently stroked her pretty little head as she worked her magic on me. Man, this was fun. As reward, I gave her a pearl necklace. For those of you who don’t know what that means, I came all over her damn face. And she apparently liked it. She licked my dick and balls clean. All without spilling a single drop. What a woman!
After this, things got a little bit more serious and dare I say more interesting. Enough with the frigging preliminaries and onto the main event. I bent Sabisha over a table and spread her plump brown butt cheeks wide open. I fingered her pussy and licked her asshole. She was a bit surprised but not turned off. What can I say? I am a kinky man and I do have a way with females. Sabisha liked getting her booty hole licked. So when I began fingering her tight asshole, she didn’t protest. She giggled and urged me to continue. Once I stretched her booty hole and got it nice and loose, I told her what I had in mind. Sabisha stared at me with wide eyes. She was surprised by my proposal, to tell you the truth. However, I talked her into it.
Smiling, I took out the small can of lube I never left home without. I smeared some lube all over my cock. I did the same thing to Sabisha Johnson’s puckered asshole. Slowly, I worked my cock into Sabisha’s asshole. Her ass was incredibly tight. That’s more than okay with me. I like to fuck a tight asshole. Doesn’t matter to me if it belongs to a man or a woman. I don’t discriminate. I fuck all assholes with equal vigor. It’s the bisexual American way, you know! Sabisha grunted as I began working my cock into her tight asshole. I gripped her wide hips tightly and started giving her ass the pounding I knew it righteously deserved. Sabisha Johnson had one of the most tempting ghetto booties I had ever seen. The city of Brockton was packed with big women with big tits, wide hips and huge asses. However, even in this crowd, Sabisha stood out. She was simply something else, you know? So I took my sweet time with her. Savoring every thrust of my cock into her asshole.
As my cock began stretching her tight asshole, Sabisha screamed. Having a woman or a man scream as I penetrate their asshole is really nothing unusual. I clamped my hand over Sabisha’s mouth and whispered into her ear. Did she forget where we were? Did she want her co-workers and bosses to walk in on us? I didn’t think so. I removed my hand from her mouth and she changed her tune. Actually, she shut up rather quickly. I sighed in relief and resumed fucking her in the ass. This time, I noticed a change in her body language. The big young black woman was no longer as tense as before. She relaxed, and enjoyed. Thrilled, I shoved my cock deep into her asshole. I love the feeling of a tight ass around my dick and if loving it is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. This was fun. So much fun that I came shortly after, flooding Sabisha’s asshole with my cum. The plump young black woman squealed as my cum filled her booty hole. I roared victoriously. Her screams were music to my ears. Slowly, I squeezed my cock out of her asshole. Isn’t that something?
A few moments later, Sabisha and I left the Archives room. I went back to reading and she went back to work. As if nothing had happened. I picked up a book and left the library. I was heading to the Dunkin Donuts near the Bus Station. I always feel drained after sex. Brockton’s big booty librarians and their assistants will do that to you. I was feeling a craving for a hearty meal. And so I had myself one. As I ate, I watched three plump, big-bottomed young women walk in. A black one. A Spanish one. And an Asian one. They looked at me. I smiled at them. One of them smiled back. The Spanish chick. Then for some reason, she dropped her purse and bent over to pick it up. I looked at her fat ass. Hot! I let my mind wonder as to what I’d do to her if she was willing and I wasn’t busy. Oh, well. Can’t win them all. I ate my food and drank my coffee. As the three young women left, a waiter approached me with a note. It was from the Spanish chick, apparently. She wanted me to have her number. Man, I don’t even have to try. Am I good or what?
The End
The Visitor
A young woman craving touch, craving attention of a specific kind, lays out on her bed with nothing but a light blue football jersey to sleep in. The room is a converted corner of the garage, built so she could have privacy. She pulls out her toy and pictures the body of her partner…
His strong muscled arms wrapped around her, his hands moving over her as he lowers his head and breathes across her neck and the back of her ear. She softly moans leaning her head back on his shoulder, arching her back so that her ass presses against his hard cock.
He softly growls as he pulls away turning her around in his arms, holding her firmly by her chin. She licks her lips in anticipation but he sees the look in her eyes and grins. Pushing her back he shoves her over on to the bed
Her right hand slowly moves down her body, passing her breasts and stomach, pressing down on the juncture of her legs as she arches her back. Her left hand bunches the blankets next to her…
He lowers his head to her stomach, his teeth grazing over her skin. She moves her hands to grab his head shy of what he means to do, but as her fingers brush his hair, he grabs her hands and moves them under her own hips; holding them in place.
She closes her eyes…
His lips skim down the last of her torso, the breeze from his mouth tickles the short hair covering her lower lips. She lifts her head to look down sighs as she watches his tongue extend and tease her. Barely touching her, his tongue floats down her slit, his warm breath heats her.
The tip of her middle finger glides down her slit, having licked the tip, its wet sliding down her skin…
There is nothing stopping him from going deeper, nothing to halt him from dipping down and tormenting her. Her hands clench beneath her body, her eyes tightly shut as her hips press to him. His finger slips between and brushes her vulnerable clit. Her moan catches in her throat and she sighs as his tongue swirls and dances over the sensitive nub.
He goes lower, the tip of this tongue drifting over the entrance of her tunnel. Taking his sweet time making her squirm, making her want to beg. He chuckles as he leans back to see her face. The need written in her eyes, her mouth, the way her neck is arched pressing her head back into the mattress.
Lost in her dreams she misses the door at the other end of the long room opening and quietly closing…
He stands and flips her over. Her arms move out as she raises her hips his entrance. His hands graze over her ass cheeks, pressing into the flesh as to claim. The hands move around and grip her hips holding them in place. One hand moves away, to help guide his hard penis in.
She presses her toy to her folds as the cock in her dream pushes in…
Just the head moves in, and she wiggles hips enough to make him growls and grab her by the back her head. Soon he moves slowly, a bit at a time, in to the hilt and back out rubbing at her entrance, scratching over the surface of her inner spot.
Pulling and pushing the toy to match his movements she moans as he watches her…
He moves with in her, slowly picking up speed
Her head falls back as one hand works the toy between her legs and the other grabs the back of her neck, her back arching from the bed, as her leg ticked in her orgasm.
A hand reaches out and grabs her spread leg, opening her eyes she cries out in shock and fear, her heart beating to fast. The hand grips tighter pulling the leg open to look at the little blue string attached to the toy inside of her.
Her breathing returns to normal. Looking at the face from her dreams she reaches for him, taking the hand he raised…
…she pulls him down over her. His long body covering hers, his jeans scratching her bare legs, his heavy chest pressing down on her silk covered breasts. As they kiss passionately, she reaches between them and unbuckles his jeans. He grins as she presses, pushing him over, she straddles him. Yanking down his pants over his hips and down his long legs. Raising the band of his boxers, she pulls the underwear down and throws to them to the floor to join his jeans and her own clothing from the day.
Crawling back up his legs she slowly makes her way up the limbs with her mouth so close but not, darting her tongue out to leave a trail of nips and licks. Reaching his manhood she cups his balls in one hand, playing with them with her fingertips. Griping his hard cock with the other she licks her lips and slowly plays him as he had done to her in her dreams.
The tip of her tongue slid around the edge of the head and then down the ridge along the underside, flicking at the junction of the cock and sack. Licking her way back up she takes him to her mouth and sucks him as far she can take him, touching the tip to her throat.
He growls as she plays with his cock enjoying the taste and texture of him. Soon his hips raise from the bed, his hands holding her head tightly by hair and neck, “oh fuck yes…”
She moans happily as he take his pleasure. A moment before he would loose control he stops, pulling her roughly from him. He sits up, grabbing her flinging her to her stomach, pulling her hips up and driving into her wet passage. Her soft scream didn’t leave the room but she felt it with in her body as he shoved deeply in to her.
Take me sir, take me as you will… her thoughts screamed to him. Behind her his movements speeding up, become erratic. She could feel the pressure building, it had been getting ready to break for some time and now it crested at it’s most fragile point. The time when everything seems to hold still, as if the universe stops to take a deep a breath before the oceans erupt and waves crash, fires burn through her veins as her body shook, his seed exploding into her.
As they catch their breath, he slowly lowers her hips, his member sliding out of her. The friction on her opening making her squirm and cry out softly again. He lays his body over hers, curling up onto his side, pulling her back against him, he brushes her hair back and kisses her cheek.
She smiles and turns to kiss the hand that grazes her face and to receive another kiss this one on her full lips.
The End
The Prisoner, The Slave
In a tiny, dim room in an unknown locale lay a small cot. Beside it were a metal sink and a steel toilet bowl. The place was nothing more than a prison cell.
A young woman named Stacey lay in the cot whilst crying herself to exhaustion. She was starving and severely bored. Nothing was present to stimulate her mind: no books, writing equipment, music, human interaction, or television. Her only highlights were when her captor decided to feed her. Her only diversion was experiencing daily torture sessions.
Her sobbing began to taper, though the boredom still seized her. She wiped her wet face and decided to try out an idea that had come to her earlier. She got up and unwound a copious amount of toilet paper. Wetting it, she turned it into a pulp. Mr. Kennedy Monroe, her abductor, had ordered her not to waste the tissue, but she hoped that she could rationalize its use.
Stacey sat on the floor, sniffling while trying to sculpt the tissue pulp into something artistic. She was enjoying her activities as she shaped the small form.
Suddenly, the door was unlocked and yanked opened. Her heart leapt and she tried to hide her activities as Joe rushed inside.
“What the fuck did I tell you about shit like this?” he nonetheless barked.
He had his long, heavy chain in hand. He lifted it over his head; Stacey tried to scramble out of the way but he brought it down right across her back. She gasped at the burning pain it produced.
“You know what this little stunt means, don’t you?” He looped the chain around her neck like a leash and padlocked it in place.
Fresh tears moistened her eyes and her heart raced. She looked at the portly but burly bodyguard with his shiny skull and sweaty skin. No amount of pleading would make him sympathetic to her; he’d only be entertained. He stripped the short blue smock she wore off, leaving her nude.
He yanked her out of the little cell and into the den room, which was filled with furniture more suitable for the Inquisition. There was a table reminiscent of The Rack with iron shackles at each corner; pillory and stock devices were bolted to the floor and a chair was present with straps and electrical-shock wires. An iron cage was in the corner and opposite that a spanking bench.
Joe took her to none of that furniture. He bound her into a strappado position: her hands were behind her back and lifted as far up as they could go. They were attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling. This left her bent completely over, placing strain on the ligaments in her shoulders and knees. Joe then attached a spreader bar between her feet to keep them static. Stacey had no energy to fight him and flee during the trussing: she was too weak from hunger and crying.
She panted and trembled but remained stoic. She had learned his repertoire of violence; she also knew that it would eventually come to an end.
He chose the biggest, thickest wooden slapper and began to alternately spank each of her buttocks as hard as he could swing the instrument. She flinched and cried out with each stinging blow. She whimpered in agony, desperate for him to stop. Finally, after a few minutes of three dozen blows, he was finished.
Before shoving her back into the cell, he bound her in a reverse prayer position: her arms were twisted up behind her back and her palms were pressed together. He kept them in place by tying her wrists with nylon rope. Again, there was intense strain in her shoulders. Joe then confiscated the soggy statue and locked her in the cell once more. Stacey lay in bed on her stomach with a burning bottom. Even further depleted, she wept internally.
At thirty years old, she had been a destitute nobody in society. She lived out of a cheap hotel with no family or friends. She worked as a maid and a newspaper deliverer. Her wardrobe mostly came from the Salvation Army and daily meals consisted of cheap fast food. Sometimes she ate at soup kitchens. During a couple of desperate occasions, she had been forced to sleep in homeless shelters. Life was a bleak, hand-to-mouth existence.
As a maid, she worked in one of Mr. Monroe’s high-rise towers. He was a real estate tycoon that owned several properties in the city. Wealthy and a minor celebrity in enterprise circles, he was conspicuous enough to warrant Joe as an ever-present bodyguard.
Mr. Monroe mesmerized Stacey. Her heart had always sped up as she surveyed the handsome, impeccably dressed man. He was in his forties but looked better than most men half his age. Joe was always at his side. In the year of her employment, Stacey had observed the bodyguard chauffeuring him around in his black Mercedes Benz, stepping out to fetch him meals, and carrying his larger items. As well as a protector, he was clearly a flunky and an image accessory.
She mopped his floors in her cheap frock but the tycoon always smiled at her with greetings, much to her elation and insecurity. She yearned to be good enough for him. She couldn’t resist daydreaming that he’d rescue her, as Prince Charming had done with Cinderella.
After a few hours, Joe came back inside the cell wearing a leather apron, galoshes, and rubber gloves. The chain was again in his hands. Stacey knew what the sight meant. It was time to be tortured for Mr. Kennedy Monroe’s entertainment.
To her relief, Joe untied her hands and her arms fell out of the agonizing reverse prayer. He collared her with the chain and yanked her up. She moaned out as the blood painfully coursed through her liberated arms. Her mind spun.
“Please, Sir, I’m so tired,” she moaned.
He drew his hand up and brutally slapped the left side of her face. She crashed onto the floor and tasted the saltiness of blood in her mouth.
“Are you too tired to remember rule number one, bitch?” he growled.
She panted weakly. “No, Sir.”
“What is it?”
“…Never tell you what to do.”
“So if you haven’t forgotten it, then it means you knowingly defied the rules.”
“No, Sir, I mean- No- I’m sorry.”
“Get your pathetic ass up!”
When Stacey pulled herself to her feet, he pushed her face-down onto the bed. He shoved two suppositories into her rectum along with a harnessed plug. After a half hour, she was drenched in sweat and rocking back in forth in a desperate need to use the toilet. Finally, Joe allowed her to, never leaving the room.
He then pulled her from the cell and into a short hallway. It wasn’t a residential hall, but looked like one in a commercial building. Over time, Stacey had figured that they were underground: no windows were present but a couple of air ducts were.
In a tiled shower room, Joe thoroughly soaped and scrubbed her body. By hand, he thoroughly massaged soap onto her breasts and hairy crotch as she cringed. After rinsing her, he took her into a small medical room where there was an examination table and a dentist’s chair.
He secured her in the chair and gave her hair and combing. Afterwards, He dressed her in a black bustier that pushed her medium-sized breasts firmly up, a spandex mini skirt, and a pair of black pumps. He led her out of the room and back into the den. Mr. Monroe sat on the sofa, sipping on a tumbler of cognac and as usual looking breathtaking.
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He puffed on a thick, sweet-smelling cigar and stood up. Predictably, the tycoon was dressed in a consummate three-piece suit, that one navy blue. His silk tie was scarlet. A large face Rolex was on his right wrist and a pinkie ring was on his left hand. The diamonds studs they both contained were huge.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked Stacey.
“…Weak, Master,” she honestly replied, wavering on her feet.
“Good. That means I’ll get to test your endurance.”
She took a weary inhale. Mr. Monroe lacked any compassion for her. Though he was clearly dominating the entire situation of her imprisonment and torture, he never abused her personally. The expression he wore when she suffered was more enchanted than sadistic. In contrast to Joe, he spoke softly to her and didn’t call her names. He gazed at her not with anger or detachment but appreciation. He didn’t terrify her the way his bodyguard did. He was the closest thing to kindness that she then had contact with.
Joe removed the chain from her neck. The tycoon lifted the lid of the wooden pillory up while Joe forced her neck down into its largest groove. Mr. Monroe held it in place while his bodyguard put her wrists into the smaller slots on either side of her head. The diarrhea that the suppositories had induced had left her limply compliant.
Fighting had always proven to be useless, anyhow. Joe just ended up badly beating her and serving her less during meals.
He closed the pillory lid and padlocked it into place, leaving her head and hands trapped inside of the holes. She felt like a town drunk in the Dark Ages as she watched Joe retrieve a small black whip.
Behind her, he yanked off the skirt she wore. She then felt the sting of the whip as he started to mercilessly flog her backside. It felt like the tail was searing her skin off and she whimpered and thrashed around in anguish.
Mr. Monroe stood nearby, his face placid while watching the torture. Sometimes, he took pictures or masturbated during his voyeurism, particularly when Joe had sex with her. Right then the crotch of his slacks was full and protruding and she knew that the beating was immensely arousing him. He reached down and squeezed his erection. Joe continued to whip her; Stacey stared into space through heavy tears. She once more focused on the notion that her acute pain would eventually conclude. She didn’t want to scream because it would just make her throat sore. Her attackers would ignore or ridicule her begging so she refrained from that, too. The best thing to do was to silently endure it. At least she was getting out of the little cell, even if it was to be tortured.
Soon, Mr. Monroe came to stand behind her. She felt him grab her hips and roughly push his penis into her canal. He penetrated her with rapid strokes, pausing every so often, then ramming into her. It was how he always did it. Stacey experienced some stirring, and a heavy contraction when he reached to caress her clitoris. Joe could only sodomize her, but only his boss had access to all three of her orifices.
He climaxed about ten minutes later. Afterward, he ordered his bodyguard to completely disrobe her and lay her eagle-spread on the rack-like table. He did so and shackled her wrists and ankles. He clamped excruciating clothespins onto her nipples and began to drip burning candle wax on her body while the tycoon recuperated on the couch with his tumbler and continued his observation.
Stacey flinched with each hot dropping, but she remained composed. Her stoicism was a contrast to her beginning behavior. During the earliest torture sessions, she screamed loudly, tried to bargain for mercy, and blubbered so much that she’d repeatedly choke and dry heave on her phlegm. Over time, though, she had come to fear the pain less. After a few weeks, it still filled her with dread but she had was almost indifferent to it.
“That’s enough, Joe,” Mr. Monroe announced after a short spell.
And just like that, the bodyguard removed her from the table and took her back into her room. She thought that the abuse would be more severe because of the toilet tissue she had wasted. Stacey was instead relieved; Joe had cleansed her rectum that day for naught.
She began to pick the wax drippings from her body. It was one of her favorite activities to do besides light humming. She made a game of out trying to pull pieces away without breaking them.
Mr. Monroe soon came inside. She halted her actions and stared down at her wringing hands.
“Keep on,” he mildly urged her.
She obeyed self-consciously. The tycoon watched her deeds with intrigue.
“You were very good just now,” he tenderly said. “You didn’t cry… you didn’t scream… I never even had to reach for the gag. And Joe told me that you were just as well-behaved during your punishment earlier.”
She nodded. Stacey liked it when he spoke to her. She wouldn’t get any conversation at all, otherwise.
“I have a gift for you,” he said.
She remained tense; she hoped that it was her freedom.
He left the room momentarily, returning with a tin box. After he set it before her, she opened its lid.
Inside were three paperback books, a blank notepad, and a writing pen. Gloomy joy filled her. Finally, she had something to stimulate her languid mind with.
“What do you say…” he stated.
“Thank you, Master.”
He tenderly caressed the right side of her face.
“May I please eat soon?” she dared to ask.
“You’ll eat when I decide it’s time to.”
“…Yes, Master.”
He departed and she began reading one of the novels. It was food for her malnourished brain.
She went on to use the pen and notepad to engage herself in drawing. All of her earliest efforts depicted the few items inside of her cell: the heavy, windowed door, the sink and toilet, the cot, the books, and the tin box. She also began to mark the days off, too, without reprimand. One order she had to heed, though, was to never write ‘Stacey’ down for any reason. Neither Mr. Monroe nor his bodyguard ever uttered the name. She held onto it, however, for her self-awareness was all she had remaining.
It had occurred to her before that compliance might garner her perks from her captor. But like most anyone else, dignity and independence had prevented her from submitting to Mr. Monroe’s twisted desires.
The long exile from society and the daily dominance took a huge toll on her will, though. Mr. Monroe kept telling her that he was her Master and, after enough reinforcements in the forms of torture and rapes, she accepted it. He regularly told her that she was a powerless nothing and that he was omnipotent in comparison. His reasoning was always logical and it soon sunk into her head despite herself.
“I know your thoughts at all times,” he’d often tell her. “…You didn’t know that? I’m reading your mind right now…”
And she’d tremble, because she was usually thinking of how much of a crazy pervert he was.
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“You were made to be my slave,” he’d also say. “Why do you think that of all the places you ended up working, it was in my building? Because it was destiny, that’s why. You were a slave finally being sent to your Master. You were a nothing whose existence was finally being merited.”
Stacey would often sit in her cell, distressed for hours by the latter idea. Her imprisonment began after he had kindly invited her to become his personal domestic. He had warned her that the work and living conditions might be “hard” and he might require some “unorthodox” service from her. Conversely, he had promised that she’d never live in destitution again. Due to her poverty and her intense attraction towards him, she agreed after brief contemplation.
Immediately after consenting, though, the tycoon and his bodyguard literally kidnapped her and brought her to the unknown location.
“What are you doing to me?” she had implored upon being forced into the cell.
Mr. Monroe stood there calmly. “I’m making you more than my servant, Stacey. You see, I’m making you my slave.”
Her eyes narrowed. “…Is this some sick joke?”
“No, it’s not. A long time ago, I decided that I wanted to own another human being, a woman that would be my personal property. And after a long and thorough search, I discovered you.”
She was flabbergasted and in disbelief, but there she was bound up in a vault. Each of her wrists was tied to its corresponding ankle. She sat on the floor as her voice resonated in the small enclosure.
“Why me? What have I done to anybody?”
“Why you? Because you’re a nobody. You’re a nothing in this society, and-”
“I’m somebody.”
“You were a bum with a job. Granted, an upstanding one, but a nonentity regardless. You had no friends; you had no family; You had no money. There’s no one to report you missing. There’s no reason for anyone to. No one out there’s going to stop to wonder why some maid living out of a hotel disappeared.”
His placid words deeply wounded her, but she resolved to remain civil. “Please, don’t do this to me. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone what’s happened, I swear.”
“You’ll get used to it here, I’ll see to that.”
“I won’t.”
“But there’s no other option. You were a nothing before I took you. Now, you have value because you’re my possession.”
Mr. Monroe entered the cell some days later, carrying a shoebox. She got on her knees for him as he always expected. Stacey hated herself for it, but she knew that he’d reward her somehow for such obedience, and after the gift books, she was willing to compromise her pride for a while.
He offered her the shoebox, which she hungrily took. Inside was her dinner: a turkey sandwich, a ripe pear, and a carton of skim milk. She ate heartily. He was meanwhile looking at her newest little sketches in the notepad. He didn’t take his eyes from the pages, but smiled slightly like a proud father.
“You’re getting so much better at drawing. Soon I may get you correct drawing tools. And I can get you some real modeling clay. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Master. Thank you for considering it.”
Through his constant verbal training, she had learned the proper way to respond to anything he said. She continued to eat whilst staring at the box lid. In permanent marker was his handwriting declaring ‘Property of M.’ He always scribbled that on items that he gave to her. At first, she thought that he was reminding her that the items didn’t truly belong to her.
But soon after he had forbade her from writing her given name down, she realized that ‘Property of M.’ was what she in fact was. He was placing her name on things.
Mr. Monroe tested her in the ultimate way the next day. Joe gave her a black silk designer dress to put on and shiny, heeled slippers. He installed a mirror in her cell and for the first time in months, she saw her own reflection. Her face had become slim from the meager meals, her skin was chalky from lack of sunlight, and her eyes were lifeless. The tycoon had presented her with a makeup kit and she embellished her face with lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara. She brushed her hair. He then blindfolded and fettered her feet. She followed him into the open air and he held her hand while they drove a long distance. Light Classical music played.
“You’re going to be very well-behaved out here,” he said.
“Yes, Master.”
“You’re going to keep your mouth shut and only do something when I give you the signal to. I want you to keep your eyes down at all times, unless you look to me for guidance.”
“Yes, Master.”
After a long drive, he took the blindfold off and she discovered that they were in the back of a stretch limousine. She looked out of the window and saw the familiar metropolis surrounding them. Several people were walking the streets. She was observing natural light and rustling breezes for the first time in months. It overwhelmed her, but she was overjoyed with the change in her dismal routine.
He took her to a dentist, who cleaned her teeth and proclaimed that several of her molars and incisors needed to be removed in favor of crowns. Years of poverty had deteriorated them before the kidnapping. Mr. Monroe set up a return visit. Then he took her back to his penthouse suite, where he ordered her into the king-sized bed.
She got undressed as he directed. Then as he commanded, she undressed him. They laid in the bed together and as he wished, she began to slowly, leisurely suck him off. She then straddled him and moved on top in slow, thorough motions, never letting him slip out of her silky-wet canal. As he commanded, she reached an explosive climax and lay relaxed in his arms a while afterwards.
“Was I good, Master?” she asked on the drive away. She was once again blindfolded and restrained.
“You were just perfect,” he said and held her right hand tenderly.
Back in the torture den, he commanded her to kneel. She immediately complied and he picked up a collar. It was black leather with large diamonds, no doubt real, lining it. A large platinum ring was in the center.
“Come here.”
She crawled across the floor and came to a rest before him.
He looked down at her and asked, “What am I to you?”
“You’re my Master,” she said with humble sincerity.
“And what are you to me?”
“I’m your property.”
“….And now it’s time to make it official.”
He buckled the collar around her neck. He hooked a fabric leash onto the metal ring and led her into the examining room. She climbed into the dentist’s chair. He didn’t strap her in, though she had no intentions of getting up, anyway.
“You behave yourself in here with Joe,” he said.
“Yes, Master.”
He left and soon the bodyguard came in. She hated being with the sadistic bully. He pulled up another chair and sat before her. Then by way of paper, he began to rub a transfer image onto her left pectoral. There was a stand nearby topped with a tattoo gun and cups of inks that he reached for. She remained still.
He took a hold of the tattoo machine and began to use it on her. It’s little needles smarted, but her threshold for pain was so high then that she silently endured it.
“How ya feeling?” he asked after a while.
“Fine, Sir.”
Hours passed. When he lifted the machine up for the last time and dabbed away ink and blood from her flesh, she looked down and saw a large trademark expertly tattooed over her heart: ‘M’. It was Mr. Monroe’s official business logo, and adorned every piece of real estate he owned.
After Joe bandaged the brand, she was put back into her cell. She began to doodle in her pad, patiently waiting for her dinner…
The End