ADULT STORIES
(You must be 18 or older to read the following)
Part 1
SoulMates - By TiggerCopyright 1997, All rights reserved
Introduction.
When does love cross over the fine line to hate, or to obsession?
When does a lifestyle cease to be living and become an existence,
or an endurance? At what point does compromise and negotiation
degrade to coercion and capitulation? What happens when two
people stumble onto the other half to their soul, only to find
themselves at odds with each other's physical and emotionalneeds?
I don't know the answer to those questions. More to the point,
perhaps, is the question of what happens to absolute power when
the power is not quite absolute? Can it still corrupt, even
where there is love? Can it corrupt love?
What happens when two people meet, fall in love without knowing
all the other needs of them? What if one of them needs,
requires, the submission of the other, and what if that other
person, in trying to satisfy the need for submission, fears
losing, or even does lose some essential part of himself?
Is that love or is that obsession? I have no answers, only a
story of S and M between SoulMates.Prologue:
To the best of my ability, I am attempting to tell this story
without resorting to histrionics or excessive emotion. It is my
story, and part of the reason for telling it is to deal with the
emotion constructively. If that makes my tale seem bloodless or
passionless, let me assure you that nothing could be further fromthe truth.
During the span of time recounted here, the basic assumptions and
values of my adult life were brought into question. My most
private self image was pulled into the light and held up to
scrutiny, not just by me, but by someone who I wanted and more
than that, who I wanted to love. Such revelations and insights
can be very disturbing, becoming deeply emotional ordeals when
one seeks them intentionally. They can be devastating when they
are unexpected and unplanned.
Truthfully, I consider myself to be a pretty ordinary person, and
prior to this, I never thought that people really had experiences
such as these. Certainly, ordinary people like me did not. None
the less, have them I did, and this is that story.
SoulMates Part One: Just a Walk in the ParkChapter 1: The Beginning.
I put my pen down and gave up with a sigh. Outside my window,
soft, feathery clouds were flitting across the cool spring sky.
They were far more interesting than the new project's cost
projections I had been trying to analyze without much success.
Just then, clouds beat accounts receivable hands down.
I found myself daydreaming far too often of late, but it seemed
preferable to doing useless, mindless make-work. Unfortunately,
whether I thoroughly reviewed the document in front of me or not
mattered very little. My boss would review the same figures and
estimates himself, would ignore my comments and recommendations,
and make his own decision on how to present the project to the
higher-ups. He would recommend the project glowingly if the
concept interested him, personally, or find 'reasons' to kill it
if it did not pique his interest.
I was doing exactly the kind of useless, micro-managing, detail
intensive and ultimately purposeless work that I had promised
myself I would never do again.
My watch beeped, signaling lunch time. My supervisor hated that
alarm, mostly because he liked to take up lunch time with what he
politely called, brown bag meetings ("Since you were going to eat
lunch at your desk anyway, Nate, why don't you come in and talk
to me about this new job"). The alarm placed him in the position
of requesting that I stay for a meeting, which of course meant
that I was on his time, not mine. He also knew, from past
experience with me, that those "friendly little lunches" would be
reflected on my time card and on his budget. He no longer tried
that trick, but I still kept the alarm active. That demanding
little beep served to remind me that I needed to get out of there.
I exited the crowded elevator and was carried along by the
swarming flood of humanity emptying out into the soft, near
warmth of an early March afternoon.
much pavement and too many sunshine-blocking buildings. I badly
needed some space. I fought my way out of the herd of fellow
escapees and headed for the bridge that led over the George
traffic clogged the inadequate roads about
my trek a bit of an adventure, but I managed to get across the
bridge intact. Once I got off the bridge, I turned down a path
that was half trail/half washout toward the bike path that
paralleled the entire length of
The bike trail was crowded, too, with all manner of exercise
enthusiasts. Those folks were too deeply into their aerobic
zones to notice someone walking in the new growth grass along the
black paved trail bed. A sigh of resignation escaped me as I
watched those young, healthy folk, out running, biking, skating,
power-walking. Another casualty of this job had been my exerciseprogram.
I had been in pretty good shape for a forty year old when I had
retired from the Navy six months ago. I was still not overweight,
only 5 pounds heavier than the 160 lbs I had weighed at my
retirement physical. However, the muscle tone was beginning to
droop, the energy level was slipping and I could feel the stress
building up. I had always detested the running I had done
religiously, but now, I missed the benefits of it.
I followed the trail, lost in thought, without really noticing
much of my surroundings. The tunnel that lead back to
City, under the AMTRAK railroad tracks, seemed to appear in front
of me as I wandered along. I went through the tunnel and back to
the main road that skirted the perimeter of the business area.
Heading back in the general direction of work, I went down the
street to the
waterfalls that form the center of the park, is a major lunch
gathering spot for the local federal office workers during the
warmer months. Thankfully, given my desire for solitude, the day
was just cool enough for there to still be a private spot among
the freshly planted flower beds.
Some changes would have to be made in my life. Work was not
satisfying, and yet it was consuming all my time. Consumption of
time was not necessarily a bad thing. I have always enjoyed real
work. I enjoy the challenge of solving problems and of finding
new, better ways to do things. My dilemma was that I was not sure
that my work meant anything. Nothing of much value had resulted
from anything I had done since retiring from the Navy. The sad
truth was that this company had employed me because I still knew
some key people in various Navy offices who might know someone
else who might throw some work the company's way. Who I knew, or
rather, who knew me, was infinitely more important than I,
personally, was and certainly more important than what I wascapable of doing.
And worst of all, I was alone, and I was lonely. The latter was a
first for me. I have often been alone often in the past, usually
by choice, but I had never felt lonely before. I was terribly
lonely and I was not doing much about that state of affairs.
My marriage, like those of many people serving in the armed
services, had died of simple neglect. The Navy is and was a
jealous mistress, and had left too little for my wife, Debbie;
too little of time and too little of me. The end came when we
were expecting our first child. I had been at sea, on deployment,
when during the fifth month of her pregnancy, she had miscarried.
The Navy, in its infinite wisdom, had decided that since the D&C
had already been conducted, without complications, and since it
was so hard to replace the Executive Officer of a deployed
submarine, that I would not be sent home. A month later, when we
finally returned to port, a process server met me at the brow,
divorce papers at the ready.
I resigned as Executive Officer in an attempt to get some shore
time and to effect a reconciliation, but that failed. Debbie
simply could not trust me or the Navy anymore. So, in the end, I
lost my wife and my career. The Navy does not give command at sea
to officers who resign from their billets. I had already been
selected for promotion to Commander, but any chance at Captain or
at my own ship had been lost forever. I was transferred to
subsequently retired as soon as I reached twenty years ofservice.
Debbie remarried again within the year, to a guy who runs a
fitness club in
kids in the last five years and is as happy as I wish I could
have made her. She still remembers me on my birthday and on
Christmas (I hate those cards.).
Maybe that is the problem, I thought. Her card had arrived last
night, reminding me of another birthday approaching. I was
feeling sorry for myself. No wife, no kids, no one to spend a
life with. I had a job that did not provide me any fulfillment,
and that left me devoid of satisfaction or accomplishment. I was
forty years old, well, almost forty one, and I was doing nothing
to make the next thirty years better than the last five years hadbeen.
My melancholy was broken by another beep of my watch. Long habit
made me start to rise when a flash of color caught at the corner
of my eye. I sat back down, staring.
She was the most striking woman I had ever seen. She was fairly
tall, maybe three or four inches shorter than my own six feet.
Her hair was a deep, dark auburn; her eyes were hidden by
oversized, dark sunglasses. She was slender, but not thin. She
was dressed in black slacks and a white blouse, with a vividly
red patterned scarf over her shoulder. She was striding
purposefully towards the park exit when she abruptly stopped.
She put down her leather shoulder bag and then gracefully bent
over to gently touch the petal of one of the flowers near the
brick walk. I watched in fascination as a red tipped finger
caressed the velvety texture of the pansy, her mouth smiling in
sensuous appreciation.
At that moment, my heartfelt wish was that I could meet someone
like her, and share the simple joys of a flower. She left with
the same forceful step she had been using when the flower had
caught her attention. A lifetime ago, I would not have missed the
opportunity to meet such a woman. A lifetime ago, I would not
have sat there bemused, watching her leave without at least
attempting to introduce myself and to learn her name. A lifetime
ago, however, I was not merely living, I was alive.
I stood and started the short walk back to my office, and back to
my cubicle. Yes, some things had to change. Thirty years like the
last five, or worse, like the last six months, was unthinkable.
At the last minute before entering the elevator, I pulled a
Washington Post out of the vendor box, and headed back to work, a
spring in my step that had not been there earlier.
I got back to my desk late, and I left work early that evening.
Of course, I relished the look of disfavor on my supervisor's
face. He wasn't paying for it. I carefully documented, down to
the minute, my time on the job. He could not claim I was
falsifying pay records, and I looked forward to the confrontation
that would come.That night, I scanned the classified ads, and put together a
r‚sum‚ that was very different from the one that had landed my
current position. I worked late into the night, but morning saw a
neat stack of envelopes ready to mail to prospective employers
sitting atop my desk. These went into the mail on my way to workthat very day.
I went to the Skyline Health Club for the first time in months
that day. Fortunately, the young man supervising the workout room
saw me coming and politely guided me into a workout more suited
to my current physical condition. In any case, I was still tired
when I got back to the office, and I knew I would be stiff the
next day. I was, but I went to the gym again that day, and the
next, and the next; until it became a habit again.
Remarkably, the work got done, even though my overtime plummeted,
and even though I took the long lunch hour that my contract
specifically permitted for working out time. Whether that was
because I refused to dither over "make work", or because I simply
became more efficient, I don't know. One thing I did do, much to
my supervisor's consternation, was to stop hitting on friends
from the old days. I refused to call them anymore just to remind
them that I was working for this wonderful company. Ultimately,
that decision led to what was the final confrontation.
About two weeks after my walk to the
called me into his "office" (a larger cubicle, nearer the office
manager's still larger cubicle). After I sat down, he assumed
what he thought must be a very strict look. Actually, he looked
rather like a chimpanzee with heartburn. "Nate, I think we need
to talk. Your contact reports are sadly overdue. How can I keep
track of who you are marketing our services to if you don't keep
the reports up to date. I want you to have them on my desk before
you leave today." He smiled at me benignly. "I don't think we
will need to discuss this any further, will we." It was a
statement and not a question.
I smiled back at him, and his smile became wary. This career
civilian contractor did not like nor trust former military, and
my response to his "friendly warning" was not at all what he
expected. "No, we won't. Because I am not making any more
reports, or contacts for that matter. You have no reports because
I haven't made any for the past two weeks outside of documented
contract support services. I think you can take this as my two
week notice, because I have had it with prostituting myself to my
former colleagues to sell them services that are overpriced and
that they don't really need." I stood up. "I think that is all
that needs to be said, don't you?" He continued to stare at me,
dumbfounded. "I thought so." I walked back to my desk, stopping
by the photocopier to get an empty paper carton.
I was packing my belongings into the box with my twaddle dumb
supervisor returned with my twaddle dumber office manager. He
cleared his throat. I merely glanced up at him and continued to
pack. "Mr. Jacobs tells me, Mr. Evans, that you have given
notice, and that you will not be making any contact calls. Isthat correct?"
"Yes, that is correct." I continued packing.
"Do you not consider that a failure to meet your responsibilities
to this company?" He was sounding more pompous by the moment. I
pulled out the contract that I had signed when I joined the firm.
It was not for the position I currently held.
"No, I do not. This contract states that I am a program analyst,
a project planner, not a marketer. You asked me to make some
calls early on here, but that is not part of my job description.
Of course, I know now, that you hired me, never intending me to
do the job that I signed on for. That was too much of a plum job,
far better for it to go to some enterprising young, non-military,
company man. You never changed my job description. For the next
two weeks, I will do what I was hired to do - no more, no less."
"I will take you to administrative action." he blustered. Like
all petty dictators, this man was used to people cowering at thatthreat.
"Go ahead. You have no basis. The contact reports I supposedly
did not do, are not required by my job description. And besides,
it would only give me more documentation when I do start making
calls to my buddies still in the Navy. About the way you use
people here. About how once a retired military's contacts are
transferred out of the DC area, suddenly, there is a downsizing
in his area, or his performance becomes unsatisfactory and he is
'let go'. Matter of fact, there is that Captain who was in here
last week. Did you know he was my skipper when I was engineer on
USS Will
some connections that he was counting on heavily. Too bad for
you, I thought. "Mr. Jacobs," he snarled. "Get him two weeks
severance in lieu of notice. I want him out of here inside of the
hour." He stomped off to his cubicle. Jacobs disconnected my
telephone (I guess he thought I might make that call right away)
and left without another word.
A cheque, the ink still wet, fluttered onto my bare desk just as
I finished taping up my box of personal items. Jacobs, tried to
make a menacing sneer, and ordered "Now, get the hell out of
here." I chuckled, picked up the cheque, and started to leave.
Then I stopped, set down the box, and pressed the test button on
my watch. I left the cubicle to the accompaniment of my watch
beeping, and Jacobs sputtering.Chapter 2: The Second Beginning.
Surprisingly, given that I had just joined of the
Unemployed-of-the-World Club, I was feeling great when I got home tomy town
house in the planned community of
understand that being out of work was a very unique experience to
me. I entered the
twenty years in the Navy after graduating, and started work at
that company the day after I retired. The feeling of freedom wasrather heady.
My already good mood improved further when my mailbox revealed
two invitations for me to interview for jobs. Carrying my
enveloped prizes to the kitchen, I poured the single glass of
wine that I permitted myself daily, and went to my den to see
exactly what I was being interviewed for.
The red light on my answering machine was flashing when I sat
down at my desk. The first message was a phone ad, the second was
a dial tone and the third was a wrong number. The fourth message,was different.
"Mr. Evans. My name is Monique Sanderson, and I am the executive
vice president of" and she named a large hotel chain whose
corporate headquarters is located in the Washington Metropolitan
area. "You sent your r‚sum‚ to us. The position is one I have
personal and final hiring approval. Your r‚sum‚ intrigues me.
Quite frankly, Mr. Evans, you intrigue me. I have sent you a
response to your r‚sum‚, but I find that I have time on my
calendar tomorrow at
working for me, please be at my office for an interview." The
soft, confident alto voice continued for a moment, giving me the
address and directions to her office. "I look forward to meeting
you, Mr. Evans. Good day to you."
I sipped my wine as I contemplated the three responses I had
received. The two letters were for engineering management
positions, suitable to my background and training. The pay would
be high, and the hours long, but it would be interesting work. It
would also be lonely. The other job, however, would involve
people. That was why, on a whim, I had submitted a r‚sum‚ for a
job for which I was either grossly overqualified, or (perhaps
more the case) grossly ill prepared.
Tomorrow was awfully short notice. I swept into the bathroom and
checked out the haircut. A momentary flashback to earlier days
had me in near panic. My hair was over my ears. But I was not "in
the Navy" anymore. It would do, I thought, smiling at how hard
some habits are to break. It would do.
Ms Sanderson's office was located in the hotel complex located in
downtown DC. I took the Metro in from one of the satellite
stations because I did not want to fight for parking. My Navy
habits came to the fore again, however. I was an hour early, so I
decided to take coffee in the hotel's cafe.
To my surprise, nerves prickled as I tried to help the hands of
the clock to move towards
anything I had ever tried to do in my life. My hope was that I
would meet people in the job, and in particular, female people. I
chuckled to myself as I admitted that I wanted to meet single,
available female people most of all. I glanced at my watch again.
I had left my beloved alarm watch behind as I did not want an
inadvertent beep at the wrong moment. I headed for the elevator
and took it to the top floor where a security guard checked my
identification and directed me to Ms. Sanderson's office.
The door with Ms. Sanderson's name prominently painted on it
opened onto a large, well appointed waiting room with
surprisingly comfortable seating. Her secretary smiled when I
arrived, offered me coffee and asked me to be seated while she
announced me to Ms. Sanderson. I _think_ I sat on the edge of my
seat although I don't remember much of those few minutes.
Memories of my midshipman interview with Admiral Rickover flitted
through my mind. The grand old man of Naval Nuclear Power had
lived down to every horror story I had been told about him. This
interview would not be that bad. I hoped.
The door opened and a woman walked out, that smokey alto calling
me from my revery. I started to stand and stopped midway. I am
sure my mouth hung open and my eyes went wide. It was the Water
Park Flower Lady, dressed in a stylish gray business suit and
skirt, but my Flower Lady, none the less. I snapped myself back
and stood to take her proffered hand. Amazingly, my first
reaction was a desire to bow over it and make a courtly kiss.
Thankfully, sweet reason prevailed, and I shook her hand with
what I hoped was a firm, but not too firm, grip.
"Mr. Evans, thank you for coming on such short notice, but your
r‚sum‚ is so interesting, and my need so great, that I decided to
try something... unusual in your case." The accent on "unusual"
sent chills down my back. This woman was completely aware of her
impact on males and was using it to full advantage.
"Thank you, Ms Sanderson. I really appreciate the opportunity to
talk to you." God, that sounded so stilted.
She motioned me into the office and walked me to a pair of
armchairs in an open setting, with a coffee tray between them.
She sat down across from me and poured coffee for us both before
starting to question me. She made small talk, referring to my
r‚sum‚ from time to time, and gradually I relaxed enough to startstudying her.
I guessed her to be in her late twenties to mid thirties,
although given her position, the latter was more likely. Her eyes
were hazel, most of the time, anyway, but I thought that at least
twice they shifted color to green or to yellow. She smiled
easily, and unlike other people of my recent experience, she
smiled with her eyes as well as her lips. The longer I sat there,
the more attractive I found her.
"So tell me, Mr. Evans?" her voice became curious, "Why do you
want to become a personal administrative assistant? Surely, you
have better offers, ones more in line with your obvious training
and background. Why do you want to be what might be called, a
glorified secretary?"The hazel eyes became hard and piercing. The answer to this
question would seal the interview.
I decided honesty was safer. "For the simple reason that I am not
happy doing those things. I am good at that work, and I am proud
of what I have accomplished, but it is not enough. I want more,
and I want to work with people. This job offers that." I grinned
at a thought. "I am detail oriented enough, determined enough to
learn and do what must be learned and done. Even if this is not
what I ultimately need, I will give you good service, and I will
not leave you in a lurch. And I don't think the woman guarding
your door would appreciate or agree with that description of my
duties whatever they are."
The black piercing eyes softened to yellow and back to hazel,
while her smile slipped back onto her lips. "True enough. The job
is much more than administrative. You will speak and act with the
power and authority of my office, and be involved in important
decisions affecting this company. And, I think you will do, quite
nicely in fact. Well, Mr. Evans, when can you start?"
Thought became word. "Today?"
Her eyebrows rose. "OH. I did not realize you were out of work."
I decided the truth would be the best policy again. I told her of
the job I had left, and why. "So, if you would like to
reconsider, or speak to my former employers, I will understand."
Even if it did mean that she would probably tell me to get lost.
"No, I don't think so." She rose and went to her desk, picked up
her phone. "Roselie, please come in here." The door opened to
admit the secretary. It startled me to realize how very
attractive she was. She was not tall, maybe five feet two inches
in her conservative heels and blonde; her hair pulled back into a
business-like bun. Her glasses did not detract from her
classically beautiful face, and in fact, made her blue eyes seem
impossibly large and deep. Her slim figure was turned out to
advantage in a light blue business suit and skirt."Yes, Ms Sanderson?"
Ms Sanderson took my arm and walked me over to Roselie. "Roselie,
this is Mr. Nathan Evans, our new personal assistant." She
looked at me quizzically. "How should you like to be addressed in
the office?" I told her Nate or Nathan would be fine. "Nathan,
this is the best executive secretary in
I shook her hand and made a little bow. "Ms Brent, it is apleasure."
She smiled and corrected me. "Oh, please, not so formal as that."
She gave Ms Sanderson a mischievous grin. "At, least, not most of
the time. Call me Roselie, please, Nathan." I smiled, but caught
a slightly annoyed look from Ms. Sanderson. I chalked that up to
over familiarity and decided to be very careful with the
informalities with this woman.
"Roselie, Nathan is able to start today. Would you please take
charge of him and get him started with his checking in down at
personnel. Show him his office, help him choose his furniture and
all that." She turned back to me. "I look forward to working
with you, Nathan. I think it will be an interesting experiencefor us both."
I thanked her and then followed Roselie out of the office. My
office, it turned out, was twice the size of the office manager's
boss's boss's cubicle back at the old office. Not only that, it
was an office, not a partition, with one door to the reception
area and another one that opened directly into Ms Sanderson's
office. Roselie noted my preferences for furniture and then took
me to personnel. Once she told the supervisor that I was Ms
Sanderson's new assistant, I got the royal treatment. It still
took the better part of the day for me work my way through all of
the pay, benefits, insurance and tax documents that go with
working in the civilian world. That, at least, is one thing that
the Navy has all over the "real world". You show up, you drop off
your records, and you go to work.
Prison Riot - By Gray Wolf
I got the job at the state prison just five days after my 26th birthday. I
wasn't actually sure that I wanted to work inside a prison, but seeing as
how I had been job hunting for the last two years, and found nothing, I
decided I'd take the prison job. Because it offered me a way out of the
current bad marriage I was in.
I needed the job in order to file for divorce and move out of my husbands
house. Considering he had bought it before we were married, I figured the
courts sure as hell were not going to give it to me in a divorce. Luckily we
had no children, so that made getting a divorce a whole lot better.
My 5th day at work inside the prison started out like any other. I had
quickly ran the comb through my long black hair before I shut the engine off
in the parking lot. And I had climbed out of my car, pulled my purse strap
over my shoulder, and as I walked towards the front gate, I tugged down on
the hem of my sweat shirt. Since I was working in a male prison, I had been
careful to dress in clothing that was large and baggy on me. I didn't want
any male inmate to get the idea that I was sexy or cute, or anything of that
nature. So I wore baggy clothes, and never used make-up or fixed my hair
fancy.
As I sat down at the desk, my boss was getting ready to leave. He handed me
a fist full of forms that needed typed so that we could get transfers done
on some of the inmates. I remember I gave a little groan and he smiled at
me. Typing and forms are not my favorite thing to do, but if it would pay
for the divorce and get me an apartment of my own I'd live with typing and
forms.
The office I was in, had three desks, and one door. There was like a waiting
room outside the door, where inmates would sit in handcuffs and wait to have
one of us take down information from them to put on the damn forms.
I had my head buried in a ton of paper work, and was questioning inmate
#1025, ( I don't even remember his Christian name, in here all the inmates
are numbers). As I was filling in this form for a personal visitor he wanted
to get allowed in to see him, I heard voices raise from a normal dull roar
into a violent level. Just as I looked up from the paper, about 26 inmates
came rushing into the waiting area. As I stood up, so did inmate #1025,
standing on the other side of my desk. He too had stood and turned his head
to see what was going on.
I saw a guard, and I thought to myself "thank God", but that was short lived
as the guard disappeared under a pile of at least 12-15 inmates. I lost
sight of the guard as my office area suddenly filled with inmates, screaming
and rushing in. The desk next to mine was knocked onto its side, and I
jumped left to get out of its way, when I was grabbed from behind.
A hand gripped the front of my neck, and the other hand was down on my
pelvic. I started thrashing my body, kicking out with my legs. "Oh bitch
wants to fight" a voice yelled, and my legs were grabbed by a inmate with
real short brown hair. He held on tight and I keep bucking my body,
screaming "let me go, let me go".
Out of the corner of my eye I saw
the office. She was about 50 years old, real grandmotherly type, right down
to her chubby build. As one of the inmates pulled
her hair, I saw the razor blade held in a huge male hand, his knuckles were
hairy. The blade sliced across
fighting the three inmates holding onto me. I couldn't breath as I watched
through her chubby fingers, and you could hear a gasping gargle sort of
sound as she tried to get air to breath. Her eyes rolled up in the back of
her head, and her muscles jumped and twisted in death.
"Oh God No!" I cried, "please,
and I sort of bent at the waist. The inmate behind me laughed and tighten
his hold on me, forcing me to stand straight, with my back pressed against
him. "
His hand so tight on my neck, and his other hand pressed against my pelvic,
I could feel the heat of his body on my back, feel his breath on my neck as
he ran his wet tongue over the left side of my neck, while my eyes were
locked on
I fought to get control of my violent sobbing, and bring my mind away from
-eagle the guard on the floor in the waiting room.
I felt a hand touch my face, and turned my eyes to look into the coal black
eyes of a inmate I knew had caused tons of trouble inside and outside of the
prison. "Hey bitch" he snarled, and he hooked his fingers under my chin.
The heat of his hand felt like it was burning my skin as I looked into his
eyes. "Glad your alive" he snarled. He tipped my head so that the back of my
head rested on the shoulder of the inmate whom stood behind me, with his
arms locked around me.
I reached my hand up to his wrist, trying to tug so that he would let go of
my chin. "Let go" I snarled looking into the coldest black eyes I've ever
seen. He took hold of my wrist with his other hand, and started twisting it.
I felt the pain and bite down on my lower lip, but I couldn't hold back to
whimper. It hurt and he knew it, as he twisted harder on my wrist and
smiled.
"Be Good cunt" he growled, twisting my wrist until new tears sprung to my
eyes and down my face. And the other inmates laughter filled the room as
they watched him dominate me.
"Please, let go!" I sobbed as my wrist felt like it was breaking into a
million pieces. My head resting on the shoulder of the laughing inmate
behind me, as he grind his hips at my buttocks.
"Please whom cunt?" the cold black eyes stared straight through me.
"Please, Sir, it hurts, please let go!" I sobbed.
"That's better slut. You call me Sir or Master from now on. In fact you call
all of us Sir, and you be fucking sweet and polite when you do it bitch!",
he laughed and finally let go of my wrist.
He took my face in between his huge hands, and put his lips close to mine.
"Now kiss your Master bitch", he growled low in his throat. When I tried to
shake my head free of his hands, I received a knee in the small of my back.
"Kiss your Master cunt" he said again, pressing his lips to mine. When I
refused to kiss him freely, I once again got a knee in the small of my back,
this time my legs buckled and the man holding me almost dropped me to the
floor.
The coal black eyes showed pure hate, and he shoved his lips on mine. He
kissed me hard, and forced his tongue between my lips. His tongue raced in
my mouth, raping me. I twisted and struggled, but with the two of them
holding me, I was pressed between them without room for escape. I though his
horrible kiss would never end, as my stomach threaten to rush into my throat
at his tongue raped my mouth. He tasted of hate, violence, demands, torture.
When he finally pulled his tongue from my mouth and his lips from mine, I
was gasping for breath and praying I was not going to throw-up.
I was shoved down on my knees, and held there to watch as the inmates played
games with the guard. First they beat him with their fists, and then they
undressed him. Once the guards clothes were off, they keep dragging razor
blades across his skin, not too deep but enough to draw blood and have him
crying and pleading for mercy in short order. I tried to look away a couple
times, but some inmate would always grab my chin and force me to watch
again.
I keep asking myself, why the other guards were not coming, where was the
riot gear, why wasn't someone putting a stop to all this.
The hand gripping the back of my neck as I kneeled on the floor, shoved
forward, my forehead hit the floor with a loud bang, and my hands were
grabbed and drawn behind me. Someone tied a cloth from something around my
wrists. The phone in the office rang.
The inmate with the coal cold back eyes, grabbed a fist full of my hair,
jerking my head off the floor and crawling on my knees I tried to keep up
with him so that he didn't scalp me I followed him on my knees back into my
office.
He picked up the ringing phone, and rubbed my face against his outer thigh.
I clinched my eyes shut, and tried to hold my neck stiff, but he held the
phone receiver with his shoulder, grabbed my head in both his huge hands,
and started rubbing my face against the crotch of his prison jumpsuit.
"Fuck you, we got two bitches, and one guard. Now you listen fuck head, we
got demands, and right now I am to busy to talk with you. Call back in a
hour fucker" he yelled into the phone and slammed the receiver back into its
spot.
"Now bitch, I've got plans for you!" he yelled. He drug me back out to the
waiting area, where the guard was barley conious now laying naked on the
floor, with hundreds of razor cuts on his body.
He drug me over next to the guard, and made me kneel there. "Okay gang, we
got there fucking attention. Now we have to get a list of the demands made,
and get this damn thing rolling in the right direction. In the mean time, I
want you to keep the guard alive. You all know your jobs, so get to em. And
soon as I knock off a couple pieces from this slut, then you all can take
turns on her. If we work this right, we got six days we can keep this place
in a uproar, and get ourselves some media attention. In those six days we also have this little bitch for fucking!".
He keep hold of my hair, and made me crawl over towards a corner of the
room. Where he then kneeled down beside me. "Now bitch, you fuck!" he
snarled. He let go of my hair, and grabbed the front of my sweat shirt, he
gave one mighty jerk and the shirt tore apart. "NO!" I screamed.
"Yea, strip the slut ", came a loud voice.
I felt the back of his hand across my face. It stung like crazy. "Shut up
bitch" he growled loudly. He grabbed onto the waist of my jeans, and quickly
got the snap open, then the zipper, I was tossed onto my back on the floor
as he stood up and jerked my jeans off my waist, down my belly, over my
thighs, and finally off my ankles. "Oh yea, nice ass" someone yelled.
"No No NO! I screamed, twisting and throwing my body as hands grabbed my
waist. I felt his breath on my neck as he lend his body weight on top of me.
"Lets fuck , lets fill that filthy cunt full of cum" he snarled to me.
"The slut didn't even have a bra or panties, what a whore she is" I hear
someone say. "Yea, fuck that cunt" "Fill her with prison sperm man". I tried
to close my ears on their taunting words, as I struggled beneath the inmate
with the cold black eyes.
"Please, don't do this, please" I cried as I felt his rock hard cock pressed
into my bush.
"Please don't do this MASTER, say it slut" he snarled as he slide his knees
between my legs.
"Please, don't Master, please don't do this"! I pleaded
"Please don't rape my filthy cunt Master" he growled as he forced my legs to
spread wide.
Oh God please, don't,,,,,,,,,,,,,,rape me,,,,,,,,,,,please,,,,,,,," I
whimpered laying prisoner beneath him, pinned to the floor by his body
weight, as his eyes filled more and more with dominate powers.
He put his hands around my neck, with his thumbs under my chin, he titled my
head so my neck was strechted tight. "Look in my eyes bitch, and tell your
Master not to rape you".
I opened my eyes, and through my tears I saw him staring down at me, his
body weight crushed me to the floor, my breasts crushed under his hairy
chest. His cock was poking between my legs, hitting my pussy lips.
"Please Master, don't rape me" I sobbed looking into his eyes.
He smiled a wicker cruel smile, and poked his cock at my pussy three or four
times. "Now slut, tell your Master to fuck you" he snarled.
I shook my head no as best I could with his thumbs locked under my chin. He
smiled at me, his smile sent shivers down my spine.
I was wiggling my buttocks on the floor, and arching my lower body, trying
to keep him from getting into me with his cock. The struggle I was putting
up was draining me of much needed energy, and I was feeling the terror and
anticipating what he was going to do.
"Alright bitch, I'll let the rest of them fuck you first" he growled and
raised his hips slightly off me. I took a deep breath looking into his cold
black eyes.
"I lied" he screamed in my face, and rammed his hips violently on me. His
cock tore past my vagina lips and buried fully inside my sex. My body
arched. "AHHHHH" I screamed.
Violently his hips pounded, "I lied slut, I lied" he snarled as he dug his
hard cock inside of me. His cock was long and round, it stretched my sex
horribly. I tried to pull my sex away from his brutal cock, but he held me
firm. "Take it" he screamed in my ear.
No, hurts,,,,hurts,,,,,,,please,," I gasp out each time his horrible cock
plunged in and out of me. His strength was amazing and frightening. The pain
I felt was extreme, I was so dry.
After a while, my body responded to the pain and the violation of his
fucking, by growing slightly wet. That moisture mixed with the blood he had
drawn from my sex with his huge cock.
"Fuck it bitch" he grunted as he slammed his cock up me. "fuck it slut, fuck
the prison cock" he growled. His thumbs were cutting into the bottom of my
chin, his hips pounding with each ounce of weight he had, and his cock
ramming in and out, in an out, in and out.
I screamed and screamed, then I pleaded and begged. As I begged him to
"please stop" I could hear the voices of the other inmates taunting him to
"fuck her harder, draw more blood from her cunt". I wanted desperately to
shut my mind down, to just float away from all that was happening, but my
mind stayed locked in place, as my body was raped by this inmate with the
cold black eyes.
My body rocked with sobs, and my tears fell to the floor, yet he just keep
plunging his cock in and out, in and out. I thought he would never stop. I
could feel my sex bleeding on his huge cock, I felt his balls slapping my
ass as he pounded his cock inside of me. His grunting in my ear, and his
heavy panting only made what he was doing that much the worse. He used his
vocal grunts as a sign of his domination over me, and as a way of letting me
know that he was taking pleasure from me without consent.
"Please, hurts, stop, please" I begged of him, yet his cock keep ramming and
filling me with pain..
"Yes slut" he snarled, as my body went into climax, the most violent I've
ever experienced in my life. It was so strong, so hard, and from so deep
inside of me, that I screamed out and bucked my sex towards him. "You like
it" he growled.. But as fast as the climax had come, I was returned into
immediately pain as he screamed in my ear, "Take it slut" filling me with
his hot burning cum.
He collapsed on top of me, panting hard, sweat running from his arm pits.
Cheers and victory roars went up from some of the inmates that had been
watching. I was exhausted and in a great deal of pain as I laid beneath him
now, my body still rocking with sobs as I realized that I had climaxed for
this horrible man whom raped me. I was humiliated, and shamed.
(I had no way of knowing at that time, that many women do indeed climax
during violent rapes. That the woman's body response to her rapist is such a
form still baffles my mind even today.)
I have no idea what the 26 inmates were doing while I was being raped by the
man with the coal black eyes. Most of the time from this point on until the
end of my ordeal, I have no idea what the inmates did around me, I only know
what they did to me.
I must have passed out from the pain, because the next thing I knew, the man
with the coal black eyes was passing a bottle of smelling salts under my
nose. As I slowly opened my eyes, I was looking straight into his. He still
laid on top of me, with his spent cock inside of me.
"Welcome back bitch" he growled. He sat the bottle down to the left of my
head, and I saw a hand take it away out of the corner of my eye.
"Time for seconds " he growled, and started rocking his body on top of me.
My breasts dug so deep into his chest that it almost felt like I was
connected to him. He started sucking on my neck, and I locked my eyes on
four inmates who sat less then 10 feet away from me as they watched him
raping me.
His cock grew hard inside of me, and now it plunged in and out, I was to
weak for screams, but my whimpers came out freely between my lips. "oh yea
your tight" he grunted in my ear.
"Your all going to like this tight cunt " he yelled to the other inmates..
His cock battered away at me, and his grunting and slamming hips down on me,
I started pleading again for him to stop. The pleading only seemed to drive
his violent brutal cock harder inside of me.
"Your going fuck us all a hundreds time slut" he grunted in my ear. I felt
fresh tears flowing down my face, and his breath was burning hot on my neck.
"Fuck it good bitch" he snarled.
"Soak it up" he yelled as he filled me with his hot cum. I laid beneath him
for a good 30 minutes with his spent cock inside of me as he rested from
having his seconds of me. When he withdrew, I whimpered, as his cock slide
out of me. I was bleeding, raw and had major cramps and pain in my abdomen.
"I'll be back for a hell of a lot more of you bitch" he snarled in his
parting promise to me.
He pulled me by my hair until I managed to get my knees under me, doubled
over in pain. He walked around behind me. He lend down and grabbed my
breasts, pulling them upwards and walking back wards. I howled in pain as he
used my breasts as handles to pull me into the center of the room.
"You- (he pointed at an inmate) and "YOU", "hold the bitch on her back, pull
her legs over her head, expose her cunt for some major gang banging ". He
let loose of my breasts, and two inmates he had just pointed to now grabbed
onto me.
I was shoved on my back on the floor, with my ankles pulled upwards towards
my head, my knees almost touching my chest.
"The first ten, get in line right here" he yelled. I rolled my head to see
ten inmates come forward. "Now one at a time, fuck the bitch in the cunt" he
told em.
None of the ten inmates needed a second invitation from their leader. As the
first one unzipped his prison jump suit and walked up to the womans exposed
and waiting cunt.
I felt his hands on my hips as he raised my hips slightly off the floor.
"Fuck me" he growled, and rammed his hard cock into me. I rolled my head to
the right and screamed, as his cock filled me. I was so raw, and in so much
pain that his cock felt like it was a mile in length and a mile wide. "Oh
god no, please" I pleaded as I tossed my head back and forth on the floor.
His cum didn't take long to release, nor did the next three inmates. When
the next inmate kneeled at my exposed cunt, I was to weak to try pleading
and begging, it wasn't doing me any good anyway. As he unzipped his jumper,
I could feel the hot cum of the other inmates dripping out of my sex, and I
started loosing track of faces, and numbers.
After about three hours of steady rape, one inmate immediately following the
other with his cock brutally plunging in me, I had been praying to God to
let me die, to let them kill me now so all this pain, humiliation, the rapes
would be over. I felt myself slipping away, and reached out with my mind for
that empty spaceŠ..
I have no idea how long I was unconsious, but the bottle of smelly salts was
passing under my nose again, and a cock was slamming in and out, in and out
of me. My legs still above my head being held with strong hands. "Please
stop" I whimpered, but no one was listening to me.
I had four more cocks shoved up me, when I must have passed out again.
Because when I came too, there was the bottle of smelly salts under my nose.
I was laying on my back on the floor, in so much pain.
The coal black eyes were looking into mine. "Welcome back" he snarled. He
pulled me to sit up, and I screamed, trying to get my hands from behind my
back to grab my stomach, but the cloth still held firm on my wrists. I laid
my forehead on his chest as he forced me into a sitting position.
"Hurting slut?" he growled. I shook m head yes on his chest. His hand
wrapped in the hair on the back of me head, his other hand supporting my
back. "You've only serviced 18 so far, you got a shit load more to fuck you"
he roared with laughter.
He pulled me to my feet. If his arms had not been around me holding me, I
would have collapsed to the floor. But his strong arms were wrapped around
me tight, my breasts crushed to his hairy chest. "Fuck seven more, then I
will let you rest" he whispered in my ear.
"Please, I can't,,,,, I'm really hurt,,,,,,,,please" I cried on his chest,
my tears washing over his hairs.
"Then suck my cock" he answered.
I shook my head yes. He laid me on my belly across the desk, with my head
hanging off the edge. He unzipped his jump suit and shoved his limp cock at
my mouth. I felt my stomach rushing into my throat but forced it down. His
hands hooked in my hair, and his cock touched my lips. "Suck it or fuck
seven more" he snarled.
I opened my mouth and he shoved his limp cock in. I gagged and he shoved his
cock deeper. "Suck it or fuck" he demanded. I started crying, and he started
pumping his hips and jerking my head up and down, his cock grew hard and
huge in my mouth.
"Go on, fuck her cunt" I heard him yell. Suddenly I felt hands on my
buttocks, spreading my cheeks apart. And I screamed around his cock in my
mouth as a cock shoved into me. He pounded my head on his cock, as someone
fucked my cunt.
His cum shot down my throat, making me choke and gage, he withdrew his cock
just in time of my losing control of my stomach as the pile slide past my
lips. I was still dry heaving when someone shoved their cock in my mouth,
and the one in my cunt was filling me with his hot brand of cum.
"Nine" someone snarled, shoving his cock in my mouth, and I heard "11" from
the man pounding his cock inside my raw cunt. They pumped in perfect rhythm
together. When they had released their cum into me and were withdrawing, I
heard his voice.
"Let her rest". My head hung limply over the side of the desk, my entire
body felt in pain. He raise my head by a fist full of hair, kneeled down on
the floor in front of my face, and stuck his face close to mine. "Say thank
you Master for the rest period" he snarled.
I stared into his black eyes. "Thank you master" I told him and closed my
eyes. He laughed and picked me up off the desk in his strong arms. He
carried me a few steps, and then I was laid down on the floor. He covered me
with
I heard angry voices, like they were a million miles away, I woke to find
him climbing on top of me. His legs between mine. He looked into my eyes,
and I looked into his. His cock rammed inside me, and I bucked beneath him.
He locked his lips on mine, forced his tongue in my mouth, his cock went
real slow in and out of my cunt, with deep penetrations that made me whimper
in his mouth. When he finished he slide off me, and picked me up.
He carried me to the desk, laid me on my back. My head was hanging over the
desk, and he cradled it in his hands as he locked his lips back on mine. I
felt my legs being shoved apart, and felt hands on my hips. The cock that
entered me was violent, I screamed in my Masters mouth and he sucked that
scream deep within himself.
"15, let her rest" he said as he pulled his lips from mine. I couldn't cry,
nor could I move. I just laid there with my head hanging off the desk and
cradled in his hands, as his eyes stared into mine.
"Come here" he said, as he let go of my head, grabbed my breasts and drug me
off the desk. My buttocks hit the floor hard, and I cried out. He laughed
and hooked his arms around my waist. He laid me on the top of the desk, on
my belly.
"NO, please" I whimpered as I felt his huge cock shoving at my back door.
His hands were locked in the hair on the back of my head, he jerked my head
back towards him. "Take it up the shitter bitch" he screamed. His cock tore
into me, tearing and ripping me as it plowed its way fully into my back
door. Never has pain been so horrible, as I screamed and screamed. I prayed
for him to stop, I pleaded, I begged, but he keep raping and raping.
I felt my blood running over my raw cunt, down my inner thighs as he pounded
his hips. The sound of flesh smacking flesh, his grunts and snarls loud,
violent.
I felt my body loosing itself, somewhere deep in my mind, away from him,
from the horrible painŠ..
When I woke up I was in the hospital. I had no idea what day it was, what
week it was. But I knew exactly what the inmates had done. How they had
raped me, and used their dominate male powers over me.
When the police, lawyers, judges and even the media will never understand,
is that in a real sick warped way, I feel in love with my master. His coal
cold black eyes haunt me even today, as I watch the TV news speaking of his
last moments in the execution room.
I cried horrible tears as the TV announcer said it was over, that my master
was dead. I cried both for myself, as well as for him, and the guard that
the inmates had killed during that six day riot ordeal.
I cried, that the demands for better medical, better treatment, better food,
better dental,, none of those had been meet or discussed after the riot,
nothing had changed. I'd been raped, tortured, terrorized, and a guard laid
dead, and my master had been murder legally by the state, yet the prison
system and the public,,,,,,, nothing changed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hypno Celeb 50: "Nervous?" Tea Leoni asked David Duchovny as their limo
approached the theater. "Scared shitless," her husband replied. "'Playing God'
didn't get a big premiere like this."
"Well, now you know how I felt at the 'Deep Impact'
premiere," Tea replied. She had gone back to a darker color for
her short hair and was wearing a nice pair of slacks, a white
blouse and a light sweater. David wore a dark suit that seemed to
go well with his film and TV character. "Relax, it'll be okay.
You've got a hundred million people around the world glued to
that show. Half of them show up and it'll be a hit."
"I'll settle for the half," David smiled as the limo pulled
up to the theater. There was a small army of photographers and
newspeople there, waiting for the stars of "The X-Files" to
arrive at the premiere. There were also several hundred fans who
began screaming as David and Tea made their way out of the limo
and down the red carpet. It was much the same as when Tea's movie
had opened a month earlier. They smiled politely, gave a few
soundbites to the right gossip agents and camera crews, and made
their way into the theater.
"Gillian!" David called as they got inside. Gillian Anderson
was surrounded by a small army of well-wishers. She wore a nice
pair of brown slacks, with a light tan blouse and a brown jacket.
Her red hair was nicely combed and a smile was on her face.
"Thank God, I was afraid I'd be mobbed," she said as she and
David had a quick hug. "Seen Chris?"
"Not yet. Knowing him, he'll probably sneak in at the last
moment and leave as soon as the last scene is done."
"David, I'll meet you at our seats," Tea said. "I have to gothe ladies' room."
"No problem," David said as his wife walked off. She smiled,
happy once again that she and David had gotten together. They now
each had a major summer movie and deals were coming in all the
time. She was still debating whether to go back to TV or continue
in movies. They both had their advantages. She entered the
ladies' room, surprised to see it empty. Not questioning her
fortune, she headed to the nearest toilet.
Just outside, a woman stepped out of the alcove she'd
been hiding in when Tea approached. She wore jeans and a red
sweatshirt and her long blonde hair reached to her shoulders. She
appeared to be in her thirties, with good looks and a sly smile
on her face. She placed an "Out of Order" sign on the door andslid inside.
Tea was washing her hands when the woman entered. Tea looked
at her, puzzled. Something about the woman seemed familiar, like
Tea should know her, but she just couldn't place it exactly. It
was like a faint memory pushing at her. "Hi," she said.
"Hello, Tea," the woman smiled. "I'm Sophie."
"Do you work here?" Tea said. "You look more like a member
of the public. No offense."
"None taken," Sophie said. "Actually, you invited me."
Tea furrowed her brow. "I did? Look, don't take this the
wrong way, but I don't quite remember you."
"Oh, we've met," Sophie said, reaching into her pocket. She
brought out a small tear-shaped crystal, attached to a chain and
held it before Tea. "It was first at the jewelry shop."
Tea's face went blank, her eyes glazing over as she slipped
into the hypnotic trance that Sophie had designed so long ago.
Sophie grinned. She had taken Tea several times in the time
since, but she had something special planned for tonight.
Something she'd been dreaming about for a long time. "Tea, I'm
going to give you some instructions. I want you to listen to them
very carefully..."Gillian sighed as she walked into her hotel room. It had
been a long night, with the premiere, the party and several
interviews. She was rather glad she had left Piper with a nanny
for the night. She'd check back in with her tomorrow. She was
still debating between a movie part and just taking a vacation
during the hiatus, but a knock on the door interrupted her
thoughts. She walked over and opened the door, surprised to see
Tea standing on the other side. She had a bottle of wine in one
hand and was smiling. "Hey," Tea said. "Sorry, but David's out with a couple of
buddies and I needed some company."
"Hey, no problem," Gillian said. "I could use someone to
talk to." She let Tea inside, not noticing the woman who sat in a
chair down the halls, near the elevator. A woman whose grin was
widening by the minute.
"A stuffed cat?" Tea laughed. "You're kidding me, right?"
"I can't believe I kept a straight face," Gillian said. She
took another sip from her glass. "It was unbelievable. The
director kept yelling 'Fight it! Fight it! It's a killer cat!'"
She lay back on the bed, laughing. "Oh, god, I think I've had too
much to drink." Indeed, the empty bottle lay on the edge of the
bed. A knock on the door surprised both women. Tea got to her
feet and staggered to the door. Opening it, she saw Sophie there.
Sophie held the pendant up to Tea's eyes. Tea closed her eyes,
then opened them and let Sophie in.
"Gillian, this is my friend, Sophie," Tea announced in a low
voice. If Gillian had been a little more sober, she might have
seen the lack of expression in Tea's face and eyes.
"It's a pleasure," Sophie said, shaking Gillian's hand.
"I'm a huge fan of the show."
"More the merrier," Gillian giggled. "Sorry, I'm not usuallylike this."
"No problem," Sophie said, a sly smile on her lips.
"So, how'd you meet?" Gillian asked, lying herself on thebed.
"Oh, I sold her a piece of jewelry," Sophie replied. She
reached into her pocket and brought out the crystal. She hung it
over Gillian's face, about a foot over her eyes, so Gillian could
see directly into it. The light reflected off the dozens of small
facets cut into the crystal, sending waves of light into
Gillian's eyes. "You like it? I think what draws attention the
most is the center of it. That nice, warm center right in the
middle of the crystal. Just keep looking at it. Look deeply, very
deeply. Just keep staring further into the crystal, Gillian. Keep
looking deeper into it. Deeper and deeper. Try to find the
center. The nice, warm center. Keep looking."
As Sophie talked, Tea took a seat in the bed and began to
undress. Gillian hardly noticed. Her eyes were glued to the
shining crystal spinning above her, throwing waves of light into
her eyes. "It's so nice, Gillian, so warm and relaxing," Sophie
continued. "Just keep staring into the crystal, at all the little
windows inside it, all the lights. It feels so nice and relaxing
to look at it, deeper into it, deeper, towards the center. Closer
and closer you get to the center and you feel more and more
relaxed. So very relaxed. So relaxed and calm and wonderful.
Deeper and deeper. Very relaxed. You'd do anything to stay this
relaxed, wouldn't you, Gillian?""Yes.." Gillian whispered.
"You'd do anything I said if it would help you stay relaxed,wouldn't you?"
"Yes...""Good, good. Then look into the crystal, Gillian. Find the
center. And when you reach the center, you'll feel an
overwhelming wave of relaxation come over you. You feel nice and
warm and totally relaxed. You will feel so good to be this
relaxed. Can you see the center, Gillian? Can you see thecenter?"
Gillian slowly nodded, her eyes half-closed. "Good. Gillian,
are you totally relaxed now?""Yes, I am.." Gillian whispered.
"Gillian, would you do anything to stay this relaxed?""Yes."
"Gillian, you'll do everything I say if it makes stay this
relaxed, wouldn't you?" "Yes.."
"Gillian, you're feeling hot now. Very hot. Not just on your
skin, but inside you. You can feel a rush of heat coming over
you, your arms, your legs, your breasts, your pussy. You feel so
very, very warm. So warm. You want to take off your clothes,you're so warm.
Take off your clothes, Gillian. And as you take
them off, you feel yourself growing aroused. Very aroused. The
more you strip, the more aroused you feel. Go ahead, Gillian,
take off your clothes." Gillian began to unbutton her blouse,
fumbling with the clasps. She pulled it off, showing a white bra
underneath. She unzipped her slacks and began slipping them off.
By this point, both Tea and Sophie were naked. Tea was
sitting on the bed, nude, staring straight forward as she awaited
her instructions. Sophie was happy to see her hand lightly touch
her clit. Gillian pulled off her bra, her breasts falling free
against her skin. She slipped off her panties, showing off her
dark-haired pussy. Sophie leaned over Gillian and smiled.
"Gillian, how do you feel?"
"Relaxed," came the reply. "And I'm so hot." Her hands moved
down to her pussy, the fingers tickling at the hair. "Let
yourself go, Gillian," Sophie said, moving herself onto Gillian.
"Let me and Tea take care of you." She leaned down and kissed
Gillian on the lips. Gillian slowly returned the kiss, moving her
lips over Sophie's, her tongue pushing in. They lay together for
several long moments, kissing, before Sophie moved her head down
Gillian's body. She buried her head in between Gillian's breasts,
kissing the tight nipples. She kissed the curves long and slow,
then moved herself down to the sweet-smelling patch in between
Gillian's legs. She licked at it a few times, then placed her
mouth over her pussy, covering the glistening patch with her lips
and inserting her tongue.
Gillian moaned as she felt Sophie's tongue burrow into her.
She suddenly felt another pair of lips touch hers, a tongue
shoving into her mouth. Some distant part of Gillian recognized
that it was Tea, but she really didn't care. She returned the
kiss, wrapping her tongue around the other woman's. Tea broke off
the kiss and straddled Gillian, moving her pussy down on the
redhead's face. Gillian needed no encouragement to put her tongue
inside Tea and begin licking with a frenzy. Her hands moved up
Tea's smooth body, squeezing the pert breasts. Tea moaned and
gently rocked herself on Gillian, pushing her twat closer to the
other's woman's face. Gillian pushed her tongue in deeper as she
felt Sophie push into her. She withered on the couch under the
weight of the two women and the pleasure in her mind. She let
loose, her cum quickly licked away by Sophie. Her tongue spiked
into Tea's pussy and came back wet, juices falling into her mouth
as Tea shuddered.The three women moved around, getting themselves into
another pleasurable position. Sophie grinned as she saw the two
hypnotized stars move into a 69 position, Gillian on top. Gillian
moved her face next to Tea's wet pussy and once again began to
lick at it, this time with longer, slower movements. Tea returned
the favor Gillian had given her just moments before, burying her
tongue in Gillian's pussy, her fingers opening the hole her
tongue made. Gillian's hands moved up and down Tea's thighs asshe licked away.
Tea's fingers moved slowly in and out of
Gillian's asshole as she lapped away at her husband's co-star.
Both women were too entranced and too deeply lost in ecstasy to
realize exactly what they were doing. They both came at once,
their bodies spasming as they ejaculated onto each other, their
tongues overwhelmed with the sweet taste unleashed.
Sophie could barely hold herself. She had been stroking her
pussy as the two licked at each other and she was almost ready.
"Gillian, Tea, come here and eat me out." The two obediently
crawled to their mistress and pushed themselves onto her. Gillian
put her face right in between Sophie's legs and began to mouthher blonde patch.
Tea pushed her face in and began jabbing her
tongue into the glistening blond opening. Sophie moaned and lay
back, running her hands over her breasts as the two ate at her.
This was her dream come true and the idea of what she was going
to do with both of these women under her control was enough to
send her to orgasm, her two mesmerized slaves licking at the
juices spreading on their faces.
"Hey," David said as he entered the room. Tea was lying on
the bed, dressed in a nightgown. "Sorry if I kept you up."
"You didn't," Tea smiled. "At least not yet." She grabbed
her husband and kissed him hard on the mouth, dragging him intothe bed.
In a room on the floor above, Sophie gasped as she felt
herself come again. Gillian was a wonder. It was a shame she had
to leave the next day. Oh well, if the show did move to
they'd have a lot of time to get better acquainted.
A Night by the Fire
My head rest on his shoulder. As I look into the fireplace, the room
seems to take on a magical glow. Laying naked on a blanket, his arm around me,
the heat of the fire caresses our bodies. I can still feel the warmth of my
own cream and his semen leaking out, covering my pussy with wetness,
moistening the side of my legs and down below my vagina. I slip my hand
between my legs and begin to massage the moisture into the skin of my labia
and mons. My fingers seek more from my vagina and I place it on my abdomen,
and breast, pulling the nipples out, moistening each so they glistened with
the reflection of firelight. I want him on me, as well as in me. His eyes are
closed, and he appears to sleep. I retrieve more, and move my fingers to my
mouth tasting the moisture of our lust.
My mind wanders, as I try to understand how I find myself here.
Sometimes control seems to slip away from me. This seems like one of those
times. I don't seek encounters or relationship. I move through my life,
keeping it as simple as possible. NO CONFLICTS. And certainly as few strangers
as possible. I select my friends very carefully. But lately I have
experimented with expression and expression of our feelings is like a disease.
It grows and spreads within you, until you are consumed by its power. Each new
revelation exposes something else and demands even more exploration and
exposure. I find deep, hidden, emotions and desires. I find lust and a sensual
part of myself, sometimes just as well left repressed. I find myself
experimenting with my own body. Shaving my pubic hair. Touching and caressing
my new softness and smoothness. Wearing clothes which slide across my body
making me aware of their texture as they become sensuous touches. When I am
at work and walking from one place to another, I find myself walking naked on
a moonlit beach, and the silky caress of my clothes becomes a soft warm
tropical breeze. And now, here I am, in a cabin, in front of a fireplace,
lying in the arms of an almost stranger, naked, full of his semen.
My hand reaches for more of our wetness, as it leaks from me. I begin
to spread it on his skin, softly, so he doesn't waken. Each stroke touches
lightly, but more boldly. His breathing remains deep, his eyes closed. I touch
his nipple, massage it with our moisture, and find it hardens to my caress. I
plan to move and shift so my tongue can taste him, but decide the danger of
waking him too great. My finger moves to his cock, limp, soft, lying
unconcerned to the side. I begin to draw slow circles on his sacks, gently
testing his sleep and then squeezing ever so tenderly. I have to use all my
self control not to mould them to my palm and press them in my hand, feeling
there strange firmness. My clitoris moves, in response to my thoughts, asking
for attention to its own needs. I look into the fire and my eye loose their
focus as I seem to see an image of two bodies in the fire, naked and entwined
within each others arms. She is on her back, her legs wrapped around his
waist, pulling her pelves towards him. He is on his knees, his hands kneading
her breast, slamming his cock into her with all his power. And yet, her eyes
burn with a yearning for him to pour more of his passion into her.
Staring into the fire, my eyes fog and the room becomes a mystic dream
in which I am the observer as well as the woman in the blaze. The heat and
burning in which she exist, are present within me, within my pelvis, within my
breast and nipples. I am on fire. My hand now finds my own breast and nipples
as I squeeze and pull until my own passion causes me pain. I move my hand
down, between my legs, massaging my mons, stroking my lips, feeling the
increasing wetness seep from my vagina. Caressing the side of my clitoris, I
turn back and stare once again into the fire...
Now he is on his back, and she straddles him, breasts hanging down,
swaying with her motion, her nipples, pushing outward with their own rising
passion, brushing his chest as she rocks back and forth on his cock. Her eyes
stare into his, capturing his lust and revealing her own. His mouth is open,
his tongue revealed between his lips. She answers by cupping her breast in her
hands lifting them as though they were an offering to his desire. The fire
blazes around them, its heat engulfing them. As sweat pours from their bodies,
their skin glistens in the flames. As she moves more rapidly, I hear a beating
sound within my chest, and find my heart pounding like a jungle drum, distant,
steady, erotic, frightening. My hand moves faster. My fingers stroke my clit,
and I join the woman in the fire, sharing her passion. My clit and vagina burn
with her rising heat. As I gasp for air, a soft moan escape from my throat.
Then I realize he is pouring his semen into her and she is grasping his cock
and sucking it into her body with her own orgasm...and I become aware of my
own vaginal spasms as moisture and cream pour from me.
The images in the fire fade, but the magic fog of the flame still
envelopes the room and I become aware of his arm pressing me to his body. His
kisses my neck. My head turns to offer more to his lips. He seeks my lips and
his tongue touches mine. I push my breast against him, asking his arms to hold
me. He responds by pulling me to him with one hand while the other cups, then
massages my breast with increasing passion. I press the nipple into his palm,
giving myself to his touch. I am on my side facing him, one leg over his hip,
holding him to me. His cock is no longer unconcerned or disinterested. It is
hard, the head burning against my clit, raging with passion as it spreads my
labia and strokes between them, back and forth, back and forth. My cream
creates a velvety smoothness for him to slide through, as I rock my pelvis
into him.
Then I am on my back, and my legs are around him. His cock, now
presses and then my plunges into my pussy, no, not my pussy, my cunt. My
raving ravenous cunt screaming for his cock to... "Fuck me." The words seep
from my mouth as the cream seeps from my pussy.
"Fuck me." I plead. I am out of control.
"Fuck me." I beg. He moves deeper and deeper with each stroke.
"Fuck me." I demand. He responds by pounding me harder and harder with
each thrust.
"Fuck my pussy. Fuck my cunt with your cock; your firm, hard, cock." I
feel his heat building, his cock swelling and I know we are both close.
"Fuck me. Give me your cum. Fill my cunt with your semen." I grind my
pussy onto him, my hips arching to enclose as much of his cock as I can reach.
His mouth gasps for air as he drives into me. I'm not sure if he hears me or
if my words are only fuel for my own fires.
"Fuck me. I want to cum with you, NOW. " And with those words he
floods me. I answer with my own orgasm. My vagina grasps, squeezes, sucks his
cum. My own cream floods my pussy with its warmth. I can't hold all we produce
and it spills out covering his balls, my labia, his legs, my ass.
He falls on me, covering my body with his, exhausted from his passion.
I keep my legs around him. My pussy holds his cock without release. Our bodies
are covered with perspiration. As we rest in each other's arms, my fingers
begins to draw idle circles around his nipple.
My head turns and once again I look into the fire. The images have
returned. They hold each other in the now softening flames. As I look into the
fire, I see the glowing embers reflected on their bodies and I realize they
are staring into our room. I realize they are looking at me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Secretary's Revenge
By Author
We were sitting together in the hotel bar together on April 22,
Secretaries Day. What a waste of Corporate time and money! I had to buy
my secretary flowers, be nice to her all week, and then take her out to
lunch! True, I could do this on my corporate expense account so the
taxpayers were paying for it. But still, here we were, having drinks,
instead of working. And time is money, after all.
Me? My name is Frank, and I'm a Corporate Manager. I had to work hard,
brown nose, and backstab my way all the way to my position, and I didn't
care just how many bodies I had to dispose of on my way up to the top. It
never mattered to me just how many employees I had to use, abuse, or take
advantage of to get my way.
And now I really resented the fact that I had to spend an afternoon away
from the office, buy her flowers and a card, and waste the day. Not that I
already hadn't had a good week already.
Because the only way to keep your employees working is to keep them
terrified. On a daily basis, I haul one of my people into my office, give
them a shitload of tasks, then talk for at least an hour or more. If they
can't complete their jobs in a workday, well then they can work past
quitting time or at home. In addition, I keep telling them that they'll
get fired if they don't perform.
But the part I like most of all is where I involve myself in their
personal lives. Now when I was growing up, all I concerned myself with was
cars, girls, and clothing. I didn't care how much I made, since I spent it
all. So I tell every single guy in the office to do what I did, no matter
what their interests. I just love annoying the one guy who wants to write
mystery novels, telling him that I never read a book when I was young and
that writing is for sissies.
So here I was, in the bar with my secretary, Ingrid. What a piece! My
regular secretary Ruth was recovering from a car accident (her fault, since
she's a woman) so she had recommended her friend, Ingrid.
Wow! Ingrid was 35, blonde, with high breasts, and a tight firm ass. She
worked out, and her figure was nice and lean, and well muscled. If there
ever was a piece of ass I'd like to have, it was hers, even though I was
married.
"What's the matter, Frank?" asked Ingrid, putting her drink down on the
bar.
"Just thinking."
"About what?"
"How nice you look."
For the past few weeks, I'd been dropping subtle hints about how nice she
looked and how desirable she was. God! What a piece of tail!
"Thank you. You're pretty good looking yourself," she answered.
"Thanks," I replied, wondering just where this was going to lead.
"You know, ever since I started working with you, I've had a secret."
I merely nodded and kept quiet.
"I've always been attracted to a good looking, strong guy like you, who
knows how to order people around."
"That's nice," I answered, my hopes up and my dick getting hard.
"Still want to have lunch?" she asked.
"Sure," I answered, taking a sip of my drink.
"Perhaps we can do something better," she coyly suggested, a smile on her
lips.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked.
"Why don't you buy a bottle of something at the bar, and get a room, and
you'll find out," she answered.
"What about lunch?" I asked.
"The menu's changed," she said, "now you go get the room, and I've got to
get a bag from my car, and I'll see you in the lobby."
"Sure," I answered.
A few minutes later, I had done as she asked, and we were alone in a room.
I had bought a bottle of Whiskey, and some condoms and rented the room.
Ingrid had gotten a small suitcase from her car (she had insisted on taking
her own car for some reason instead of letting me drive her) and I was
eagerly waiting for what would happen next.
"How about a drink?" she asked.
"Fine," I answered.
"I'll pour," she offered.
Ingrid took the ice bucket and put some ice into two glasses, then opened
the bottle and poured the Whiskey straight over the ice. She handed me the
glass, and to prove just how manly I was, I drained the glass in one gulp.
"Pretty good," said Ingrid.
Than the lights went out and the room started to spin.
"Nighty night," was the last thing Ingrid said before the lights went out.
* * * * *
When I came to, I found that I was naked on the bed. I felt the presence
of a leather collar around my neck, my hands were bound behind my back, and
something was locked to my ankles keeping me legs apart. I was laying on
my stomach, helpless! I turned my head around, to see Ingrid sitting in a
chair, reading a magazine.
Ingrid had changed into a leather bra, skirt, and high heels. Around her
waist was a belt, from which I glimpsed a riding crop, and other things.
"You shouldn't drink Frank," she said, "you can't hold it."
"Let me go," I protested.
"Why? You wanted to have a little hanky-panky with me every since I
started. You've got your wish, except that we're going to have a little
different fun than the sort that you had imagined."
"What's going on?" I asked, "why am I bound like this?"
"Surely a big boy like you can figure that out, can't you?" she asked.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Like my Dominatrix outfit?" Ingrid asked as she stood up and displayed
herself.
"Dominatrix?" I repeated.
"Sure. For years. Pretty good at it, too. Especially since I had a good
trainer myself."
"Let me go, damn it!" I cried.
"Not just yet, Frank," said Ingrid, "I'm here to teach you a lesson."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You really think that you're something, don't you? When Ruth told me
just what kind of boss you were, I didn't believe her at first. But after
working with you for weeks, I've concluded that you really are a real piece
of work yourself."
"What do you mean, let me go!" I cried.
"You like to abuse people, you little tin god. Did you really give
Greenberg a hard time last year about getting the Jewish holidays off? Or
that kid that wants to write mysteries a bad time too? Just what kind of
manager are you, anyway?"
"A good one," I protested.
"Really? Threatening to fire your people every chance you get,
interfering in their personal lives, beating them up every chance you get?
You know that all of your employees hate your guts, and can't say I blame
them. That's why I'm here," said Ingrid.
"To do what?" I asked.
"Why, to teach you a lesson, silly boy," she said.
"You abuse people too, bitch," I said.
"Not true," she answered, "I know to stop long before my slaves call for
mercy in the power exchange we call B&D, and they all have safewords too.
Pity your employees don't have a safeword before you call them into your
office for a little tongue lashing. Why I'll bet that your people would
rather have a session with me rather than one with you. At least I know
when to stop, bigmouth."
"Let me go, damn it!"
"I've been called in to teach you a lesson, asshole. Now ordinarily I
don't engage in non-consensual D/s, but in your case I'm going to make an
exception. It's time that someone show you what it means to be on the
receiving end for a change."
"No!" I cried, as she produced a red rubber ball with straps attached that
she forced into my mouth and buckled at the back of my neck.
"Mmmmmmmph!" I cried with the gag in my mouth.
"Most intelligent thing you've said all day," commented Ingrid, "now lets
get started, asshole."
She opened the suitcase and emptied the contents on the table. She picked
up a jar and a flesh colored object that I didn't recognize.
"Since that lovely ass of yours is just so accessible right now, that's
where I'm going to start," said Ingrid.
She put on a pair of rubber gloves and opened the jar, taking out a glob
of jelly on her fingers. Then she opened my ass cheeks and inserted her
fingers into my butt, massaging my behind, relaxing my muscles.
"No need to worry, big boy, I'm also a trained RN. You might say that I
already have seen assholes like you before. That's better, open that tight
hole of yours, cause I'll do this all day if I have to."
I grunted in response, only to watch in horror as the object was soon
inserted into my behind. I winced as the wider section was gradually eased
past my anus, then moaned when my muscles closed when it narrowed.
"Good boy!" cried Ingrid, "your first butt plug."
Vainly, I tried to force the thing out of my behind, but it was firmly
locked it by my muscles. No matter what I tried to do, I couldn't dislodge
it!
"There now," said Ingrid, as she removed her surgical gloves, "that wasn't
so bad, now was it?"
"Mmmmmph!"
Ingrid then proceeded to begin to play with my cock, which quickly
stiffened in response. She pulled roughly at my dick between my legs, and
when I got hard, she proceed to spank my behind several times with harsh
blows.
"Better not cum!" she ordered, "not until your Mistress tells you to! Or
you'll get punished, slave!"
I remained silent in my gag, fearful of what was going to happen next.
"That's a good boy," she said, "I think that this side of beef isn't done
just yet."
She produced a riding crop from the table, and displayed it for me.
"You really are quite a horse's ass, you know. I've been waiting to use
this crop on you for some time now."
She then flexed the crop in her hands, showing me just how stiff it was.
"Do you give your employees a choice before you let them have a tongue
lashing? Or a safeword when they've had enough? I don't think so, tough
guy. Let's see how that ass of your holds up to a few strokes of the
riding crop, hmmm?"
Ingrid then began to massage and pull at my ass with one of hands. Then
she began to strike my ass with the crop, each stroke slicing across the
skin.
"Mmmmmph!" I groaned.
"Now when I do a scene, my submissive and I work out a safeword in
advance, usually mercy. And when they call mercy, I stop. Period. But
you just like to hear the sound of your own voice, now don't you? Are you
that insecure?"
I pulled without effect at the leather holding me, bouncing on the bed as
each stoke cut a path of fire across my behind.
"There now, I think that you're medium rare by now," said Ingrid.
My ass was a solid mass of pain, and I felt like screaming when she turned
me over. When my ass hit the bedcover, I felt like jumping to the ceiling.
"Now my slaves can take a hell of a lot more punishment than that. Except
that they're experienced, and you're just a virgin asshole, in my opinion.
Now it's time to take care of the front, hmmm?"
If I was afraid before, I was doubly worried now. My cock lay exposed for
whatever was going to happen next. I watched as Ingrid put on her rubber
gloves again.
"Ever see them milk a horse for sperm, stud muffin? Well, lets see what
you've got?"
She took a small plastic bag and placed it over my cock, then proceeded to
pull and arouse me to an erection. I have to admit that she was good, and
my cock was soon erect. In no time at all, I was climaxing my cum into the
bag.
"Whoa, Seabiscuit, Whoa!" cried Ingrid.
After cleaning off my dick with a paper towel, Ingrid then delivered a few
more strokes with the riding crop onto my exposed thighs. I groaned with
each stroke of the crop.
"My, you do shoot a good load," said Ingrid.
She then spread the cum over my exposed nakedness with her rubber clad
fingers, tickling me into laughter if I had not been gagged.
"All done for today, Frank. Usually I charge a lot for my services, but
you'll be paying quite a price for your attitude towards your employees."
I felt a needle prick my arm, and everything went dark after that.
* * * * *
When I awoke, there was no sign of Ingrid. My restraints were all gone,
including the plug that she had inserted into my ass. I cleaned myself up
and left.
After arriving back at the office, I learned that Ingrid had quit, without
giving any reasons, and I relaxed.
Two days later, photos of me in bondage arrived, and were sent to everyone
from the company president on down. I was maneuvered into resigning, and
cleaned out my desk that afternoon.
At my next job, I had the misfortune to have a Vice-President that would
call me into his office for a daily chat lasting 1 or 2 hours a day. He
especially delighted in abusing me, of all people in the office. Turns out
he was a writer and wanted me to hear his stuff.
I wish that I had a safeword to use with this guy!
THE END
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Callie's Story Today is my birthday, and I'm forty years old. I look
back at my life in the late 60's and early 70's while
attending San Francisco State, and wonder how we all
made it through in one piece. Of course there wasn't
anything like AIDS back then, which helped.
My story is a true one that took place in 1974 when I
was 22 years old. We were a wild bunch and thought we
knew everything, and had done everything, I was very
jaded back then. We had this tradition of daring each
other to do crazy things, and I was the "Bravest" onein our Sorority house.
One day the house bought a closed circuit TV system
for security, but we quickly turned it to another
purpose. We set it up so a sister could bring her
intended victim home and do her thing with him while
the rest of us watched on the closed circuit TV from
another room. We'd done some really strange things
like betting each other who could seduce which pro-
fessors, or who could get the oldest man to have sex
with them. (By the way I won that one, I had the old-est one at 79 )
Well, this story really starts with a visit from the
president of a sister Sorority from UCLA who came to
talk to us about a problem they were having with
their house. It seems that a Fraternity house wanted
their building for expansion, and being as wild as us
their Sorority was vulnerable, and the guys had filed
a morals charge against them with the college govern-
ment. If their Sorority was actually brought up on
charges, they might be evicted from their house, then
the guys could get the property.
We talked over many ideas, when I came up with "fight
fire with fire", get them into a compromising situa-
tion, and blackmail them into withdrawing their
charge. I came up with the idea of installing our
closed circuit camera and recorder, in a house off
their campus, and holding a "special" party for the
Fraternity guys. I had a plan, and told the visiting
Sorority president that we'd take care of theirproblem for them.
Several of us drove down to LA, bringing the equip-
ment with us, and set it up in a borrowed house just
off campus. I took time to scope out the Fraternity
brothers, and had a chance to meet Gene Benjamin, the
house president at a dance that first night. After
dancing a couple of times with him I told him I was
new in town and was having a get-to-know-you party,
and would he and his house brothers like to come. He
made it plain that he would, and said that he thought
I was beautiful, and if the other women at the party
looked half as nice as me, he could get most of hisFraternity brothers to come.
Well, party night rolled around and everything was
setup. The plan had evolved into "Me" doing every-
thing. I couldn't back down, I had my pride to look
after, so to speak. The plan was for me to greet how-
ever many guys showed up and to get them somehow to
gang-bang me with all of them in the same room, while
on camera of course. They all had to be filmed in one
room with me to prove what their intentions were to
the College government if necessary. (Can't believe Italked myself into this.)
Well, you can imagine where I was at. Here I am the
craziest girl in our group, basically setting myself
to be screwed by as many men as happens to walk
through the door, and pretending that I was cool with
it. I tried not to think beyond the moment, I threw
myself into setting the scene. We got a huge thick
white throw rug, and placed it were the camera could
get all the action, set the lighting as low as pos-
sible while still showing details.
Truthfully I was loosing my nerve bigtime! I was
scared to death, there could be 100 guys showing up
for all I knew. All I could think about the day
before was, I can't loose face now, but I did make a
silent pact with myself that if more than 10 guys
showed up I'd chicken out and take the consequences.
( Tells you something about me then, That I'd
consider having sex with 10 guys in a row.)
The time came - and we heard the door bell ring, my
heart jumped into my throat, and all the girls ran
into the "monitor room" and locked themselves in, so
no guys looking for the bathroom would inadvertentlystumble on them.
There was Gene, and 5 other Fraternity guys from his
house, Well, I thought, there goes my excuse for not
doing this. As I lead them into the living room where
everything was supposed to happen, I was already hav-
ing thoughts about what it would feel like to have 6
guys in one night, while being watched by 7 girls and
all these guys. I was thinking whether all the guys
would be able to perform their duty in front of the
other guys, things like that were running through myhead.
They all came into the room and Gene looked around
and asked if they had gotten there early, I said that
I had brought them here under false pretenses, that I
was a nymphomaniac and needed to have multiple men to
have an orgasm. While I was telling him this crazy
story I undid the strap of my sun dress from behind
my neck and let it drop to the floor, leaving me com-
pletely nude. Guys today would never fall for the
story I was telling these guys but things were dif-
ferent then, and back then I had one of those body's
that glowed with health, and "exuded sexiness", soI'm told.
Gene said that he would be glad to help me out, and
the guys with him said that if I really needed sex
with them who were they to argue. Well, Gene took my
hand and started to lead me to the bedroom, I pulled
back and told him I needed to do this with other men
watching, I couldn't get off otherwise. Gene looked
a little disconcerted at this, so I played on his
masculine ego, and asked him if he was able to do it
in front of his pals. He took the challenge and pull-
ed his pants down immediately, and popping into view,
was this gorgeous erect cock all slick and swollen.
All of a sudden I settled down, I was on home turf,and could handle this.
I stepped up to Gene and pushed him up against the
wall rubbing myself against him slowly, quite enjoy-
ing myself. I used to look at myself in the mirror,
and I used to feel so goddam proud of my body. I
used to fantasize sometimes that I could have as
many lovers as I wanted. And here I was getting
ready to live that fantasy, I began to get so wet I
had to have him inside me, I put my hands on Gene's
shoulders, and lifted myself onto his big warm cock.
He held me by the ass and manipulated me in and out,
and side to side hitting perfectly right from the
start. The thought of so many people watching us was
incredibly sexy to me. I came before he did, and I
really let myself go, I screamed and clawed at his
back as he came into me. (I thought it would lookgood on tape.)
I climbed down from an exhausted male body, and went
down on all fours in front of the intense crowd of
young men. I told them that I wanted them all to
strip for me, if we were going to have a party, we
should all be dressed for action. You should have
seen the speed those clothes flew into the air. Gene
just stumbled to the couch and slumped down with avery red chest and cock.
I said, "Next!" and one of the guys dropped down be-
hind me and inserted his cock into me from behind.
(No I'm not into anal) He slipped in very easily
because I was dripping with both Gene's and my come.
This guy was so worked up he just started slamming me
real fast, and came in less than a minute. As I
pushed him backwards off of me, I rolled over on my
back and looked at a very horny surfer type.
I pointed to him, and held my arms wide for him. He
knelt between my legs and immediately went down on my
pussy. I couldn't believe this guy. Two men had come
inside of me and here was this guy licking and suck-
ing me with a vengeance. But soon I didn't care why
he was doing it,he was really good at it. Just before
he brought me to the top he plunged into me and came
immediately. ( Figured that he was a quick cum, and
that's why he did face.) Didn't matter to me though,
because I came right along with him. Couldn't believe
it, I usually only have one orgasm a night...
Well, surfer boy gently disengaged, and slowly
licked his way out of me. I was thinking about the
fact that I had three different kinds of sperm, all
mixed up inside my vagina, and how fantastic the
feeling was, when the tall dark one kneeled down
beside me, and began to French me, while very lightly
fingering me. I could see his beautiful cock quiver-
ing beside my face, and I knew what he wanted. He
smelled like heaven, and that cock looked so smooth
and clean, that it just seemed like the right thing
to do. I moved my head two inches over to take that
fat purple head into my mouth, and to my surprise he
moves to put his lips on my clitoris. We just stayed
in that position massaging each other with our mouths
until he came all over my face. (These guy's were
strange) As soon as he was over his orgasm, and could
move, he turned around and licked his sperm off myface. Weird huh?
As I was begining to recover from my latest partner,
I began to think, "This is it, we have all the mater-
ial we need to screw this fraternity. Why go on?" But
as I was thinking of getting up and making some kind
of excuse, the youngest looking guy jumps me, and
slams his cock into me without any preamble. I can
tell right away that he's a virgin, and that it's
taking all his courage to screw me in front of his
peers. So I settle down and let him have his big ex-
erience. I always like to be the first for a guy, I
make sure he thinks he's wonderful. I squirmed under
him and pushed against him, and reached under his
left leg and took hold of his cock with my special
"thumb-forefinger" hold, and felt his cock going in
and out of me. I find that when both partners are
real wet, men love this hold. It enhances their ex-
perience, and I like the feel too. Having a virgin
in me turned me on again and as he pumped his seed
into me, I had, wonder-of-all-wonders another orgasm.
Well, here I was, going to stop with four guys, but I
couldn't very well leave this last guy with some kind
of complex. So as my sweet virgin lay beside me in a
sated daze, I looked at the last guy. When he saw me
look at him, he just dropped down on me and started
to fuck me. That's all you could call it, "fucking".
He was hard and violent and he had an appetite for
sex like none of the others. He fucked me so hard it
hurt. I wanted to cry out, but he knew what he was
doing, and even though it hurt, somehow the hurt was
too nice to complain about. He was all over my body
at once, he moved like an eel. We both came together,
and the whole thing shook me. My pussy was so sore
after this guy had finished with me. He bit my ass-
hole and my lips and he nipped my clitoris, and it
was painful but it was just incredible. A fleeting
thought went through my mind about asking him to move
up to
There I was laying on the rug after we'd finished,
covered in sweat and sperm, and I felt used up and
quite whorish, but somehow I was pleased with my
performance. After I had ushered all the guys out of
the house, having to plead a sore pussy to Gene, who
wanted another go, I went back into the house, and
all the girls were there cheering for me. I guess
that at least half of them had to relieve themselves
by masturbating or being masturbated, I don't know
which. They all loved my performance.
We left the next day for
I walked a little funny for a couple of days, but
quickly got back into the swing of things. I've never
done anything quite as crazy as that since.
Oh, by the way, the Fraternity brothers mysteriously
dropped all charges against our sister Sorority
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