Clara felt a tingle down deep in her cunt and attributed it to nerves. Her small suitcase bobbed in Wil's easy grasp as he led the way down the hallway to his apartment. She couldn't stop wondering if he had really meant what he had said, or if he had just been talking through his hat.
The strangely shaped, high-ceiling room was certainly hot enough. She dropped her coat, draped it over the arm of one of the easy chairs. She checked her reflection in the mirror on the sliding door of the tiny kitchen. The apartment was in an old brownstone which had once housed a single family. Years before the building had been hacked up into apartments. Bathrooms and kitchens were crammed into unlikely nooks and corners.
"Can I get you a drink?" Wil asked after taking his coat off.
"How about one of your famous whiskey sours?" Clara asked, trying to ignore the sweat on her palms. Cripes, she was acting as if she was still a virgin or something. Probably he wouldn't really do it. She leaned against the doorframe, and watched as he poured out two frothing sours.
"Here," he said, handing her one glass. "Why don't you go out and make yourself comfortable? Put on some music, and take off something else, if you want." He chuckled nervously.
"Maybe later," she mumbled uncomfortably. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, for the tenth time. "I mean, if you mind, I won't do it."
"I don't mind," she said, wishing that he'd just do it and quit asking. Neither of them was a virgin. It wasn't like they hadn't seen it all before.
Just the same, when he emerged from the kitchen, naked, his bobbing hard-on leading the way, she felt a hot burning itch down deep inside her. She took a huge gulp of her drink. When she managed to rip her eyes off his swaying cock she was glad to see he had a fresh shaker of sours in his hand.
"Really feels a hell of a lot better," he insisted. "If you want to do it, too, feel free."
"Maybe a little later," Clara murmured, and sought refuge in her drink. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock. Just the sight of his pink-capped ivory column made her cunt water.
"Been a nudist ever since I got this apartment," Wil went on, sitting down in the other easy chair. His cock stood up like a pole in his lap. With forced casualness, he slouched back and sipped his drink.
"You could turn the heat down," Clara noted, resisting the urge to start playing a game of ring toss with his dick and her bracelets.
"Impossible," he retorted. Then he grinned. "Besides, then I wouldn't have an excuse for running around naked."
He didn't look bad without any clothes. He was trim and firm. His cock jutted up from a thick light brown bush. His chest was virtually hairless. A glistening clear drop of juice appeared at the tip of his dick as he twirled his drink in his hand.
Clara was sweating. Partly from the beat, partly from the drink, and partly from nerves. She gulped down more of the burning, puckery sour. She felt a hot tingle in her crotch as she contemplated shedding her clothes. She knew what it would lead to. She thought of stripping naked, slowly, while he watched, and her insides knotted up. She couldn't do that, somehow.
"How about some music?" Wil asked.
"Sure," Clara answered, her mouth dry. "Anything's fine.
She watched his dick bob and wave as he walked over to the record player. His pale, tight ass was toward her as he bent over to start the music. She could see his balls between his legs.
His dick leading the way, he came back toward her. She had a mad urge to spread her legs and invite the plunge. Her cunt spasmed at the thought of being speared by his jutting tower. She wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't exactly experienced either. Just enough to get horny at the sight of his cock. She hadn't ever been to bed with him, although they had been dating for several months. It wasn't the first weekend she had spent in his apartment, even. But before, always, there had been clothes between them, even in sleep.
She could still keep clothes between them.
"Hot in here," she observed. She fought the urge to ask him if he would mind if she got naked. That, after all, had been his tiresome line.
"Feel free."
"Thanks," she answered tightly.
"Know what I'd like to do sometime? Take some pictures of you," he said thoughtfully.
"You've taken lots of pictures of me."
"I mean some nudes."
"Oh, come on," she snorted, thinking of how she looked naked. "I'm fat."
"You're not fat. You just have a nice softness to your curves.
"Well, anyway, no pictures." She didn't contradict his assumption that she was going to be nude in a few minutes. Because he was right-she would be. Suddenly, she needed to pee.
"Excuse me," she said, setting her second drink aside and getting up. She started to weave drunkenly, then controlled herself. In the bathroom, where she couldn't see his jutting cock, she felt a wave of relief. . . and a twinge of regret, too.
As the water swirled in the toilet, she fiddled nervously with her clothes. Then she took a shaky but resolute breath. Her twat sizzled in anticipation and her guts knotted as she shed her clothes. She glanced in the mirror. Maybe she wasn't fat, but she definitely had a layer of padding. Her pleasantly rounded breasts had faint creases on the undersides. Her pink nipples stiffened with excitement as she watched. She sucked in her gut and studied her muff. It was a delicate brown, almost the same shade as the hair on her head.
"Nice legs," she muttered, pointing her toe, putting off the inevitable. She wondered where her relationship with Wil was going.
She took a long time hanging up her clothes. Then, her pussy seeping excitedly, she grasped the doorknob in one sweaty hand. She stepped out and felt his eyes fasten on her as she crossed the room. In a half daze, she felt warm air touch her, all over.
"Come here," Wil invited, indicating his lap, with its jutting cock.
Clara bit her lip, and changed course. Self-consciously, she sat down on his legs. His cock was a hot bar against her hip. She sat very straight. His arm went around her naked back. Her tits were at the same level as his chin. His eyes were on the pink nubbins. She took her glass, and gulped down the burning booze.
"Who's your friend?" she asked finally, delicately touching his prick.
"His name's George," Wil answered, glancing down at his cock.
"Hello, George. It's a pleasure to meet you," Clara joked tensely, grasping his cock and giving it a gentle squeeze. Under the soft skin it was hard and hot and hungry.
Wil's hand cupped her ribs. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and the magnetic attraction drew her mouth to his. The kiss was innocent, until her impatience made her pry her tongue between his lips. His hand crept up her side, then slid over her naked breast. Her tit burned as their mouths continued the sucking, ravenous kiss. She tightened her grasp on his cock, and felt burning seepings sting her fingers. Her hand slid over his hot meat on a film of juices.
His hand moved from her aching breast to her thigh. She let her legs part. His fingers found her frizzy muff, probed her itching slit, stroking her warm cunt, triggered a hot wave of juice. She turned, rubbed her breast against him, made her nipple flare hotter. Burning trickles of flame surged through her guts as he fingered her cunt.
When he moved, lifting forward off the chair and guiding her to the floor, she kept her eyes squeezed shut. She pressed against him as his finger slid into her velvety tunnel. The rug was hush against her naked flesh. They stretched out on the floor, bare skin to bare skin, her hand in possession of his cock, his hand in possession of her cunt.
"Try two fingers," she moaned, squeezing his cock. The music from the record player swirled crazily, formed a background for her lust.
She felt her cunt stretch as he complied. She knew the greater bulk was going to increase her appetite. His warm palm cupped the soft mound of her pussy, gently pressing her clit against her pubic arch. His fingers stirred in her juicy cavern.
She wished he'd hurry up. She was starving for the shaft in her hand. Her gut was a solid ache of hunger. She dragged on the stiff shaft, tried to pull it toward her pussy. She imagined being spread eagled under him, pinned like a bug, while he fucked her. Her cunt flooded in reaction. She wanted him to rape her, to ravish her.
She rolled to her back, and dragged him over on top of her. She spread her thighs and pushed his hand out of the way. She guided the head of his cock to her twat and squirmed, nuzzled him into her hot crease. She hauled on his firm butt, managed to get part of his cock into her. There was a slight burning sensation because of his bulk.
"Are you safe?" he asked abruptly, pushing up. He looked down at her. His cock was tormenting her with its partial penetration.
"Yes," she moaned, managing to avoid cursing his rotten timing. "Yes. I'm on the pill."
He lay back down on her, and his cock burrowed into her cunt slowly. She writhed insanely. She wanted to get the whole mammoth thing all at once, but his hesitancy made it impossible. She wanted him to do it hard, quick and fast. But she couldn't ask him. She clutched at him, dragged on his tail. She spread her legs wide as he drilled his cock into her burning bush.
Her hips thrust up against him as he penetrated her dripping depths. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, but not as hard as she wanted them to be. He kept treating her as if she were fragile, kept holding back. He kept his full weight up off her until she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down hard. Her boobs ached deliciously from the pressure.
Finally, his cock nudged the end of her tunnel, and his pubic bone pound against her cit. She moaned ecstatically.
"You okay?" he asked anxiously.
"Fuck me," she groaned, cursing him mentally. How could someone so damn big be so damn gentle? Why couldn't he assert himself! "Fuck me," she repeated.
He drew out of her, then pushed back in. Her hips heaved under him. She convulsed from the feel of his cock sliding along her clutching cunt walls. She heaved in reaction when his pubic arch hit her cit.
"Fuck me," she moaned as his cock pistoned in her Nat. Her hips went wild, started a mad jumping, twisting motion. "Fuck me!"
He continued to push into her in a gentle, semi-mechanical manner. She was blazing from the feel of his cock pistoning in her, but wished that he would turn his animal urges loose and really hammer her.
She was rising toward a crest, but too slowly. She was being driven by the need to reach the peak, to hit the explosion point. It was like a spring was being wound tighter and tighter and tighter inside her. Finally, it would have to let go and would fly apart into glittering fragments. Every stroke of the cock in her cunt drove her nearer the breaking point, but slowly, too slowly.
Wil began panting. His breath huffed against her ear as he fucked her faster and faster. The little core of self-control in his screwing remained. He humped and humped. Then he slowed, paused, and humped again. He drove his cockhead deep into her cunt.
She moaned with frustration as she felt his cock begin to spasm. She felt the hot squirts of his semen deep inside her, and shuddered. She was just short of her own release. She clutched desperately at him. Her hips heaved and writhed as she struggled to peak. She failed. He flooded her with cream.
With a groan of exhaustion, he relaxed wearily, pressed her into the hard rug. Dissatisfaction and frustration eating at her like a worm, she lay under him and felt his cock shrivel in her velvet clutches. Then, again too soon, he heaved off of her.
They were self-conscious about their nakedness as they retreated to separate easy chairs. She couldn't help noticing that his cock was already expanding again. She wondered just how much experience Wil really had. She had known him four years, the whole time he was in college. He had graduated and was working in the city. They had started dating a few months before.
The drink tasted great. The whiskey warmed her insides as she slouched wearily. She was still horny, and was encouraged by the sight of his rapidly reviving cock. Maybe next time would be better.
"It was good, wasn't it?" he asked anxiously. "It was good," she answered, telling herself she wasn't really lying. It was only her third time after all, and it had been as good as the first two. Better than the first time.. . and better than the second, too.
The first time had hurt. The second time, the same night with the same guy, hadn't been much better. It had been less painful at least, but still disappointing
"You still seeing Grant" Wil asked.
"No." She hadn't seen him since he had taken her virginity. The carnal act had destroyed the relationship. She wondered what sex would do to her and Wil.
As they talked of this and that, she became aware of shouting from a neighboring apartment.
"Grant Powell," Wil noted, and made a sour face.
"I can replace you in five minutes, bitch!" Grant yelled. There was a low, mumbled reply.
"Five minutes. Want to see me do it? Give me the phone. I'll show you."
There was the sound of a door opening. "So go ahead and replace me!" the girl screamed. "You're crazy. I ain't gonna stay around for your kinky junk!" The door slammed and footsteps retreated down the hallway.
"Guy changes girls like I change my socks," Wil noted. "I'm hungry. How about I order a pizza?"
"Okay," Clara agreed, intrigued by the argument they had overhead.
"Any special kind?"
"No. Just no onions," she said, thinking of the hopes she had for the rest of the evening. "And no green peppers or anchovies, either."
"Plain? Or pepperoni?" "Either's fine."
"What's your neighbor like?" Clara asked later as they settled down to eat. They were still nude. She had a hard time keeping her eyes off Wil's seemingly perpetual erection.
"He's okay, I guess," Wil answered. "Though like I said, he goes through girls at an incredible rate. And he throws wild parties."
"Wild?" Clara asked, intrigued.
"Sexy wild," Wil answered. "Orgies, really." "Oh, have you been to one?"
"No. I just hear them sometimes. I can smell the pot, too."
"I've never smoked pot."
"Me either," Wil said. "You want that last piece of pizza?"
"It's yours," Clara said, wiping her greasy hands on a towel. They were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, leaning back against the sofa-bed. Now the hunger in her belly was satisfied, the hunger in her crotch could be dealt with. She wondered if Wil would make the first move, or if she would have to.
The whole scene was stained, unnatural. There was also a sexiness to it, sort of a slowly building pressure. The tea towel covered the sodden curls of her twat and emphasized her, nudity. Wil's cock was a rigid, towering exclamation point of horniness. But he didn't seem inclined to do anything about it
"Hey, Wil, you in there?" Grant's voice came through the closed window and drawn blind.
"Ahhh, shit," Wil snorted, getting to his feet and going over to the window. With a clatter of slats be pushed the blind aside and raised the window. A gust of chill air raised goose-bumps all over Clara's body. She moved out of sight of the window.
"What do you want?" Wil asked.
"What're you doing?" Grant asked.
"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?"
"Taking a shower?"
"Well, I'm not. My girl's here."
Clara cringed. "What's the matter? Didn't you get her replaced?" she asked acidly in retaliation for her embarrassment.
"You applying for the position?" Grant demanded.
"She isn't," Will said quickly before Clara had a chance to get in deeper. "C'mon man, what do you want? I'm freezing my balls off."
"Hell, you never use 'em anyway," Grant taunted.
"The fuck I don't! Ask Clara."
Clara cussed him silently.
"That true, babe? He know how to use what he's got?"
"Yes."
"If you don't want anything, I'm gonna shut this damn window," Wil announced.
"I was gonna ask you over for a drink. Guess you're not interested," Grant said.
Clara felt a twinge of disappointment and a thrill of anticipation when Wil agreed that they weren't. She wanted to meet Grant. There was a gutsy power to his voice that intrigued her. At the same time, the gnawing hunger in her cunt wanted satisfaction.
"You folks want to come to a party tomorrow night?" Grant asked.
"One of your orgies?" Wil asked warily.
"I'm just having a few intimate friends over," Grant answered.
"I don't know," Wil temporized.
"Sure, why not," Clan spoke up recklessly. After all, Grant knew what she and Wil had been doing. And anyway, if things got out of hand, she and Wil could always retreat to his apartment.
"You sure?" Wil asked her nervously.
"Yeah. It'll be fun," she answered. "Besides, we never go out. Be a nice change."
"What should we wear?" Wil asked cautiously. "Shit, just come as you are."
"Oh sure!" Wil snorted.
"Chicken?" Grant taunted. Clara liked the idea of arriving naked at a party. Then she felt ashamed of herself. It was bad enough to be sitting around naked with Wil, without contemplating any further display.
"What time should we come?" Wil asked.
"Eight or so. If you've got any grass, bring it along."
"I never touch the stuff," Wil answered. "Turkey," Grant grunted.
"Can I shut the window now?" Wil asked acidly. "Yeah. Get back to your slit," Grant growled.
"And when you're done with her, send her over for sloppy seconds, will you?"
"Not bloody likely," Wil retorted, slamming the window. "Jeez, what a character. Why did you say we'd go tomorrow?"
"Why not? It'll be fun," Clara answered. "And besides, we never do go out. All we do is sit around here all the time."
"Okay, okay," Wil said, bending over to pick up the pizza carton. "You about ready for bed?"
She was caught flat-footed by the suggestion. Then she thought about what bed might imply this time, and felt a surge of excitement. "Oh, gosh, I don't know. I think I'd like to shower first."
"Help yourself."
Clara felt a flush of aggravation at his denseness. "I thought maybe we could both shower? Together?"
"Oh. Oh? Oh!" Wil stuttered stupidly. "Yeah, might be kind of fun."
"Excuse me while I use the toilet," Clara said.
"Uh, call me when you're ready," Wil mumbled, opening the sofa-bed.
She used the pot, then turned on the hot water in the small shower stall. It had peeling painted walls. There was a film of green on the cement floor. At one time the entire kitchen-bathroom area had been the bathroom for a single bedroom. When the building had been converted, the bathroom had been restricted to the small corner containing the toilet. A metal stall shower had been crammed in with it, while the rest of the room had been made into the kitchen.
After getting the water right, she stepped in and called Wil. She let the hot river stream over her body. She shifted, made the stinging spray burn her tile.
"Gotta take a leak," Will noted over the hissing of the shower. "No peeking, okay?"
Clara assured him she wouldn't, and fought the urge to break her promise.
When he stepped into the shower, her soapy hands were ready for him. She clutched his cock. Her fingers slithered over his tool. He gasped as she fondled his jutting pecker.
"You may wash me, if you'd like," she noted in a low, throaty voice.
As the water hammered down on her back, his hands cupped the soft mounds of her breasts. His thumbs stroked over her nipples. She smiled up at him. She moved forward a fraction, and the head of his dick poked into her stomach.
His hands slithered down her body to her pussy. She let her legs spread as he lathered her moist curls. His soapy finger slid inside her and triggered a hot wave of pleasure. As fire swept up through her, she groaned softly.
She soaped his balls, felt his little sperm eggs slide around in their sac. Then, with his finger still probing her twat, she eased aside so the shower could rinse his dick.
Her pussy drooled with hunger as his finger explored its slick folds, probed deep into her tunnel. Clara squeezed his wet cock, milked out a creaming wave of juice. Then she smeared it over his hot shaft.
Finally, promising herself she would get it where she really wanted it after the shower, she released his dick. Grabbing the soap, she bathed him from shoulders to crotch, smeared them with lather. Then he took the bar from her, and his hands spread suds all over her warm smooth flesh. His hands lingered lovingly on her full breasts.
"We could try and make it in here," he noted as he pinched her tits.
"It'd be kind of cramped."
"You don't want to?"
She wished he'd assert himself more, though she really didn't want to screw in the shower. "Maybe some other time," she answered. "Let's go to bed now. It'll only be our second time, after all."
"You weren't a virgin, were you?" he noted as they rinsed.
She debated what to answer. She didn't know how much stock he put in virginity. "Not technically," she said at last.
"What's that mean?"
"Uh, well, I mean, my hymen had already been torn," she answered vaguely. "It's fairly common for athletic girls to have it happen."
"Does it matter?"
"I guess not." he shut off the water.
"Brrr, cold out here now," she noted, grabbing a towel. She handed it to him. "Dry me off?"
After a few minutes of brisk rubbing she was pink and flushed, and acutely aware of her nakedness. She scampered across the brightly lighted room to the bed and slid under the coven.
"Want a drink? A whiskey sour?"
"Okay," she agreed, propping the pillows up behind her. The sheet just covered her breasts. She watched his cock sway as he crossed the room. She shivered when she thought about getting that shaft again. The bed sagged as he joined her under the sheet. His skin was hot against her flank.
She let her hand rest on his upper thigh as she sipped the blazing whiskey sour. Then, teasingly, she eased her fingers over to his ready dick. She tickled it gently, lovingly. "Hi, George," she said softly.
Wil chuckled nervously, and put his hand on her sleek thigh. She shivered from the gentle caress. His fingers eased up toward her pussy. She squirmed and spread her legs so he could reach her soft, clean muff more easily.
Wil pushed the sheet down, bared her to the waist. "You have nice breasts," he noted softly, studying their smooth, pale curves, the half-hard nipples. "May I kiss them?"
"Uh-huh," she grunted.
His lips closed on one nipple, and flames lashed through her. Her hand tightened convulsively on his cock. His tongue stroked her nipple. It swelled, demanded more attention. When his finger slid into her cunt her thighs parted reflexively. She let her head drop back as he suckled on her breasts. He shifted from one to the other. The abandoned one always felt wet and cold.
As her passion built, she wondered what Grant looked like. He sounded hard, demanding. So unlike Will, she mused. Wil was so polite and thoughtful it sometimes infuriated her. She loved him, but wished he would be a little more domineering.
Like now, for example. He was tormenting her with his slow, deliberate exploration of her pussy and the way he was nursing on her breasts. She wanted his teeth to be biting into her tender flesh. But she couldn't tell him. He had to do it himself. He had to do it without being asked.
A second finger slid into her pussy, and was greeted with a burning wave of juices. Her hips humped slowly against his hand. Her thumb painted his cock-head with pre-cum. She shoved the sheet down, exposed his cock, her pussy. His fingers still deep in her twat, he threw one leg over hers, and rolled towards her. His lips pulled away from her tit sought her mouth. This time the tongue that did the first probing was his. It slid into her mouth shyly.
His cock felt like a steel burr against her thighs.
She felt a drop of his goo on her bare flesh. She kicked the rest of the coven away so the air could touch them both, all over. The light played over her pale pink flesh. She let go of his cock and slid down farther, so she was lying down instead of being propped up by the pillows. It brought her face closer to his cock. For a brief moment, she considered sucking his dick. Then he slid downwards, and his cock moved away from her. He eased over on top of her. As she spread her thighs in welcome, she felt a twinge of disappointment that she hadn't gotten to taste his dork.
His cock probed blindly at her crotch. She reached down and guided it to her vagina. As he drilled into her soupy depths, she moaned under him. Maybe this time she would reach that glittering cascade of pleasure. She hugged him to her as he pumped his dick into her. His moves had the same hesitancy they had the first time.
Why didn't he hurt her a little? she wondered. Why didn't he drive into her impatiently, instead of throttling down his lust?
He stroked into her cunt. She heaved under him in an attempt to grind her clit into the passion paste it should be. She scratched his back as he fucked her, slowly and easily. His cock stroked her vaginal walls to warm flames.
She was rising toward that peak, but it was such a gradual rise she was afraid that she again wouldn't make it. Thank God this time his staying power was better. She went up and up and up. Her pussy began flooding as she approached the final gusher. Wil's breath was loud in her ear as he humped. The bedsprings protested the pounding fucking.
"Oh," she moaned. "Oh, I'm cuming! Uhhh. UUHHH!" The unexpectedness of the climax tore a scream of ecstasy from her. She heaved under him as her cunt spasmed around his dick. Very vaguely, in the mists of her cuming, she was aware of his dark spouting its load into her clutching hole. For an eternity, she strained against him. She wished he had more cock, so her cunt could be even fuller. Then she faded to a limp mass under him, and her climax died away with the last lingering spurts of his semen.
As she slid into a languid sleep beneath him, she wondered if Grant's parties really were orgies. The thought made her cunt twinge excitedly around Wil's exhausted dick.
Chapter Two
"Hi, come on in," Grant invited politely as Clara studied him. The fortune teller's promise of someone tall, dark, and handsome certainly fitted Grant.
"Lois isn't here yet," he noted with a sigh. "Late, as usual."
"Who's Lois?" Wil asked curiously.
"Girl I invited over tonight," Grant answered. "How about some wine?"
"Sure," Wil agreed. "You want some, Clara?"
"Uh, okay." Clara was a bit disappointed. She had expected something stronger. She didn't think she'd have the nerve to participate in an orgy unless she was drunk. She wondered if it really was going to be an orgy.
The buzzer rattled harshly and Grant, muttering something under his breath, reached out and punched the button that released the downstairs door. They heard footsteps on the stairs as he handed around the wine.
When he opened the door, Clara barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Lois was a very pretty blonde. She was about five feet tall, and diminutive in every respect but one-she had huge, round breasts. Her pale blonde hair was in a pony tail. What had nearly made Clara's jaw drop was Lois' outfit. Though the temperature was hovering around the freezing mark, the girl was wearing a sleeveless, tie-dyed undershirt and a short miniskirt that revealed her sleek, bare legs. Her chilled erected nipples jutted against the taut knit of the shirt. Their darkness was visible through the barely concealing cloth.
Even Grant seemed slightly taken aback by Lois' appearance. "You walk here from the subway that way?" he asked.
"Huh-huh," Lois answered in a breathily sexy voice.
"Get raped on the way?" Wil asked, only half joking.
"Yeah, well, we'll deal with that later," Grant said ominously.
"Okay."
Clara tried to figure out what it was about Lois. There was a kinky sexiness to her. It came from more than just her outfit. Clara could sense Wil responding to it, and felt a hot itch deep in her own guts.
"What's that?" Will asked suspiciously when Lois took a plastic sack from her mammoth shoulder bag.
"Grass," Grant said bluntly.
"I don't think... " Wil started. He changed it to a grunt when Clara dug an elbow into his ribs.
"I've always wanted to try it," Clara said quickly.
"Be just a moment," Grant assured them, and began doing mysterious things with a water pipe and an incredible number of mouthpieces.
"This is the party?" Wil asked.
"This is it," Grant answered. "Told you it was just a few intimate friends."
"Oh, are you two intimate?" Lois asked innocently.
Clara and Wil glanced at each other. Just then Grant announced that the pipe was ready. They all settled on the floor in a circle around the pipe. In moments the apartment was filled with smoke. Clara sucked in a deep breath of marijuana smoke and held it.
It felt like a warm wave was sweeping out through her body, making all her connective tissue dissolve, so she spread out, like a morning mist. She focused her eyes on a modem painting on the opposite wall. She was amazed at the colon she hadn't seen there before.
"Mmmmmm, good stuff," Grant mused.
"Are you two intimate?" Lois asked again.
Clara moved over toward Wil. Her inhibitions were dissolving under the influence of the grass. She leaned against Wil's shoulder and stroked his thigh. She was fascinated by the feel of his leg, by its warmth and vitality. "Uhmm-hummm," she purred. "Since yesterday."
"That's nice," Lois murmured. She had been sitting with her legs together, out in front of her. Now, she crossed them and sat like an Indian. Her skirt bunched up, revealed the crotch of her white panties. A few wisps of pale red hair had escaped.
"I suppose you and Grant are, too?" Wil ventured.
"Oh, yes, Grant understands me." Lois sighed and blinked hazily at Wil.
"You know," Grant mused, "I think a girl's first experience colon her whole life."
"I do, too," Lois agreed. "I know it did with me.
Clara pondered this absently. She felt a warm knot of sexiness growing down deep in her gut. But there was also a vague feeling of disappointment. Somehow, remembering her first time, she had the feeling that it hadn't been all it could have. "I don't know," she said aloud.
"What was your first time like?" Wil asked.
"It wasn't with you?" Lois asked, intrigued.
"Unh-uh," Wil responded, shaking his head slowly.
"You really want to know?" Clara asked him. Just thinking of telling about it was getting her excited.
"You tell about yours and I'll tell about mine," Lois offered.
Clara felt her cunt begin to wet the crotch of her panties. "Okay," she agreed. She took a deep drag on the pot pipe, then followed it with a swallow of wine. She felt the grass and alcohol blend deep inside her, melt her inhibitions. She noticed the ornament restraining Lois' long blonde pony tail-a black leather band studded with chrome. It seemed to be woven into her hair somehow.
"I was a virgin until about a year ago," Clara began, her mind going back to her senior prom.
She had gone steady with Gary during most of her senior year in high school. That night she had worn a low-cut white gown. He had been devastatingly handsome in his tux. It was traditional to stay out the whole night...
"Where do you want to go?" Gary asked as they left the crepe-paper decorated gym, entered the softly-scented spring night.
"Oh, I don't know," Clara answered. When he took her hand, an electric current flowed between them.
"I know where there's a party," he ventured in a tone that made it obvious that wasn't what he wanted to do.
"Oh, gee, I don't really want to go to a party," Clara said, trying to control the quiver in her voice.
"Want to just... drive around?"
Why was her crotch so hot? "Okay."
As Soon as they were in the car she slid over next to him. It was his father's car. It was big and soft and warm, like a bedroom. He put the car in gear and pulled forward out of the parking space.
His arm went around her shoulder, and she snuggled closer to him. She rested her head against him and put her hand on his strong thighs. She felt the heat of his body through his formal trousers. She thought about the small paper bag in the back seat. It held her shorts and top, and her bathing suit. It was just in case they had decided to head for the beach after the prom. She really should change out of her dress, but didn't know how to suggest it.
His hand slid toward her breast, and she reached up to catch his fingers. Her heart fluttered, and her mouth was dry as she kept careful control of the situation. The street was nearly deserted. It was one in the morning, after all.
Without asking, he turned off the main drag, and headed into the secret darkness of a side street. They snuggled together, sharing the music over the radio, while tension slowly knotted her gut tighter. She tugged at his hand, moved his fingers on to the soft slope of her tit above the neckline of her dress.. Her own hand stroked the inside of his thigh. The car lurched slightly as his foot jerked on the gas pedal.
They were on the back road around the Country Club now. On the right expensive houses were surrounded by huge manicured lawns. Most were dark. A few had the porch lights on.
The record on the radio changed, and Clara felt a surge of warmth. It was their song! Gary spun the steering wheel to the left, guided the car into a dirty service road that went through a grove of frees. Clara wondered if he had been here before with other girls. It was the first time he had brought her there.
"Found this the other day," he said in a tight voice. "Nobody else knows about it."
She hoped he was right and hoped that he was wrong, too. She was scared and eager all at the same time. She knew what was going to happen, knew he knew what was going to happen.
She wondered if he had taken precautions, had something with him.
The narrow road curled around toward a small storage shed. Gary drove to the far side of the building. They could see the golf course, all silver and black in the moonlight. The engine whined as he shifted into park, then went silent when he reached through the steering wheel and turned the key.
They were left alone with the soft music from the radio, and the pounding of their own hearts. His hand was stroking her breast gently. Then his other fingered her law, and she turned her head and they kissed. It was a pulse-racing, crotch boiling kiss. His tongue touched her lips. She let him in with virginal shyness.
As she turned toward him, the hand that had been caressing her tit lost contact with it. But his other took its place, slid hesitantly up her side.
His palm covered the warm mound and pressed softly on her dress and bra. She felt her nipple stiffen impatiently. Her left arm was trapped between them. Her hand was on the inside of his thigh. For a second, she was afraid to move it. Then, she did. She felt hot humidity in his crotch, and a hard lump along one thigh. Her fingers delicately traced his swollen cock. It was immense! She was fascinated by the size of it.
She snuggled firmly against him as the kiss went on and on and on. While he massaged her breast, she felt his other hand fumbling at the zipper on the back of her dress.
She could stop him. Maybe she should stop him.
But she knew she wasn't going to stop him. The zipper eased down and down and down her back, loosening her dress as it went. She tightened the kiss as her fear and excitement both grew. Her fingers pinched his rock-hard cock.
Then his hand left the zipper, went to her bra. The hooks popped free with distressing ease. The hand on her breast moved, sought more intimate access to the warm globe.
For a moment, she pressed closer to him, tried to protect her tit from his assault. Things were moving too fast for her. Her lust wasn't keeping pace with her fear. Then his fingers touched her nipple, pinched it, and the flare of excitement that triggered surged past her worry and inhibitions, melted them away. She moaned deep in her throat. Her fingers stroked his cock, then fumbled blindly for his fly.
She found his zipper, managed somehow to pull it down. His cock thrust up against his shorts. She fumbled for the fly, but couldn't find it. Finally, impatiently, she managed to get his shorts down far enough to liberate his towering dick. It jumped out against her hand, drooled into her palm.
Her fingers curled around it with a familiarity that astonished her. She hadn't ever touched a cock before. She wanted to look down and see the jutting tower, but was afraid to break the kiss. Her dress hindering his touch, he probed and fondled her naked breast awkwardly.
A fresh surge of confidence and desire drove her to break the kiss and ease back from him. She kept hold of his cock, and glanced down. In the shadow of his lap, she could see little more than a vague outline. She slipped her dress down her arms. Releasing her grasp on his dick, she pulled her arms out of both dress and bra, and let the fabric crumple in her lap. Her breasts were bared to the moonlight streaming in the windshield, and to his eyes.
Gary sucked in an admiring gasp.
Clara took hold of his cock again, and sat up very straight, thrust her tits out proudly for his reverent inspection.
His fingers touched them, tweaked the nipples, sent hot flashes of lust through her. She saw the desire in his eyes. She liked the effect her body was having on him.
But she felt cheated at his lack of exposure. "Take off your jacket and shirt," she urged.
He stripped them off with shaking, sweating, desperate hands. Clara ran her fingers over his bare chest, twirled the curling dark hair, touched the nipples, made them stiffen. His hands stroked her soft, warm globes, pulled on her stiff nipples.
She felt like she was Eve and he was Adam. Her bare breasts mashed against his hard chest, her nipples dug at his pectorals. His hands caressed her naked back, pressed her against him. They kissed and she squirmed her chest against his, made her breasts ache and burn. Waves of fire and lust threatened her motels.
Morals? They had been lost in the typhoon of lust and love. Her crotch was a steaming, burning tunnel of hunger. She knew it wouldn't take much to get her out of her dress and panties.
Gary broke the kiss and eased her away so he could again study her breasts with eyes and hands. Then, unexpectedly, he dipped his head. Lips touched her tit, and flames erupted in her gut. She curled her fingers in his hair, and tilted her head.
His hands went to the rumple of her dress, and tugged. She lifted obediently, let him drag her gown down. Her panties went with it.
In seconds she was down to stockings and garter belt. His fingers probed the hairy nest of her pussy. She moaned and parted her thighs. She found his belt, yanked it open, and jammed his pants down and grasped his cock ruthlessly. She slid sideways on the seat, and fell slowly to her back. Then she tugged him down on top of her.
"Have you got a rubber?" she asked frantically, fearfully.
"In my wallet, in my jacket," Gary panted.
"Get it," she urged. "Hurry!"
For a horrifying moment, he abandoned her. He groped for his jacket in the back seat. There was a crinkly sound, a soft sound, and then he was back. "Here," he grunted, handing the rolled rubber to her. He was going to make her put it on him!
Clinging to the tattered remnants of her lust, she fumbled with the thin latex. It wasn't the first time she had handled one; a girl friend had had some at a slumber party once. She managed to get it over the tip of his dick. As she rolled the thin sheath down over his pecker her lust came back full force. The rubber was slimy with lubricant.
With a soft moan, she lay back on the front seat. She writhed, got one leg up on the back of it. She was abandoning herself to him. She was a helpless pawn in the grip of their combined desire.
She was aware of him leaning forward over her. He looked down as he bent his cock toward her nest. She felt his dick touch her bush, nuzzle along her slit. He missed the mark. Whimpering, she reached down, improved his aim. Then he leaned into her. There was a stinging, tearing sensation, and suddenly she was jammed hill, and a cry was driven out of her. It was as if his cock had pistoned the air out of her lungs.
He stroked in her, quick and hard. His fingers clutched her breasts with bruising force. Her thighs ached as he forced them apart, pounded their insides. Her cunt was burning with pain and pleasure.
Then she felt his tower lurching in her twat and knew he was cumming. She wondered if she was. If she was, if this was all there was to it, she didn't see what all the fuss was about. It couldn't be. There had to be more to it than this. There just had to be. His pecker ceased its pumping and began to shrink. Maybe it was the rubber; she hadn't actually felt his spunk spatter inside her. Maybe that was it. She clutched him to her as his cock retreated from her depths.
"We did it again that night," Clara concluded, returning to the present and Grant's apartment. "It was a little better, but not much."
"What about you, Lois? What was your first time like?" Grant asked.
"I was raped," Lois announced in hr soft, breathy voice. Instantly, she had everyone's full attention.
"I'm not sure that counts," Clam mused, befuddled by the wine and pot. She and Wil snuggled together comfortably.
"Oh, but it does," Lois answered, wide-eyed. She was still sitting cross-legged.
Clara wasn't sure she wanted to hear about it. Rape had a fear, and a fascination for her. She sought refuge in a lungful of pot smoke.
"Tell us about it," Grant urged.
"Yeah, come on. You promised," Wil said.
Clara let her mind drift as Lois began her tale . .
There was a hot itch in her gut. Such feelings were forbidden by her strict family. It was a hot, summer Sunday. She was dressed, as her religious father insisted, in white shirt, white shorts, white sneakers, and white athletic socks. The only thing that wasn't pure and innocent was something he could do nothing about: the impressive jut of her bust.
"You really want to join?" the boy eyeing her asked. The cigarette between his lips drooped. He blinked smoke tears out of his eyes, then suppressed a couch.
"Uh-huh! I do," she answered.
"Aw, come on Jake," another boy snorted. "Leave her here, for Pete's sake."
"Naw, wait a minute!" Jake said. He was looking at her in a way that made the funny hot itch in her crotch worse.
Charlie, a redhead, snickered and began cleaning his fingernails with his pocket knife. "Maybe she'd like to join in a circle jerk."
"Sure," Lois agreed, not knowing what it was, but willing to do anything to get in with them. She really liked Jake. But he never paid any attention to her. Unless she was dressed in a certain way, that was.
Her answer brought a guffaw from everyone but Jake. He stood there with a calculating smile on his lips, and studied her.
Jake waved his hand at the others, commanded silence. "What the hell, guys. She wants to be in the circle jerk, why shouldn't she be in the circle jerk?"
"She's a girl," one of the others pointed out.
"We use pictures of girls," Jake said mysteriously. "Why shouldn't we use a real one?" "Yeah," Charlie agreed, his blue eyes glittering. Lois noticed that there were intriguing lumps in the boys' pants, especially Jake's. What guys had there was a complete mystery to her.
Evidently what Jake had said was convincing. In seconds she was trailing them into the woods that bordered the railroad tracks. After about a quarter of a mile, Jake halted in a clearing.
"What's up?" Charlie asked.
"Gotta blindfold her," Jake answered. "That's the rule for non-members. Right, guys?"
"Yeah," Charlie agreed. The others looked puzzled.
"Anybody got a handkerchief?" Jake asked. "I always use my sleeve," Stew answered. "I have one," Lois said, digging into the pocket of her shorts.
"Perfect," Jake said, taking the big white hanky from her, and tying it over her eyes.
"Better do her hands, too," Charlie suggested. "Good idea," Jake agreed. "Gimme your belt." In seconds, her wrists were tied in front of her.
The knot of fear in her belly grew as she was led over the uneven ground. As they approached the mysterious hideout, the itch in her tummy became a tingle.
"Here we are," Charlie announced. There was a metallic rattle, and a groan from rusty binges.
Then she was led through a doorway, or something. The breezes faded and were replaced by a mass of strange smells. One was stale tobacco smoke. There were also other, more unpleasant stinks, too. Ones that she didn't recognize.
"Shit, smells like an outhouse in here," someone snorted. "Open the damn window."
Someone did. Cool air brushed her sweaty cheek. There was a lessening of the gloom through the blindfold, too.
She had been left unattended during all this. Finally she asked hesitantly about taking off her blindfold.
"Yeah, go ahead," Jake told her.
Lois pushed the blindfold up off her eyes, and blinked to focus her sight. She looked around the shack curiously. She flushed hotly when she saw the pictures on the walls. They were of naked women!
They did something funny to her insides. The tingle in her crotch increased and her stomach knotted up.
The rest of the shanty was a clutter of empty beer cans, tattered magazines, and old comic books. A kerosene lantern hung from a hook in the ceiling.
"Now what?" Stew asked, staring at her. He looked scared.
Jake grinned. "Can't have a circle jerk unless we all get naked."
"Naked?" Lois squeaked. She hadn't ever seen boys naked. She hadn't even seen her own father naked. To be naked was a sin!
But the idea also brought with it a flare of excitement. She would find out what all the mystery was about! The itch in her crotch got hotter and more desperate.
"You wanted to," Jake pointed out. "Got to get naked to have a circle jerk."
"Oh." She had the feeling she was about to wet her pants.
"I think she has to do it now that she's here," Charlie said.
"Me, too," the fourth boy, Simon, added. There was an excited glitter in his dark eyes.
"Oh." Lois looked from one to the other. They were all staring at her. The lumps in their pants were bigger than before.
"Undo my hands?" she asked softly, holding her wrists out to Jake.
Jake's eyes burned into hers, read her soul. Evidently he saw there the answer she was afraid to voice. He unfastened the belt, released her wrists. "Lock the door, Stew," he ordered quietly in a tone that made Lois shudder.
Lois didn't look at them. Nor did she look at the gross pictures on the walls-all those naked tits and baby crotches. She didn't have much hair down there. What little there was was an almost invisible blonde. But her breasts were almost big enough to compete with those in the pictures.
Her hands shaking, her wrists sore, she unbuttoned her blouse. She heard a collective gasp when her bra-covered boobs came into sight. She carefully hung her white blouse on a nail. Then, not wanting to get her shorts dirty, she got a magazine to sit on, and took off her shoes and socks. Then she stood up and skinned her shorts down.
There wasn't a sound in the cabin. The boys all seemed to be holding their breath. Still avoiding looking at them, she reached back and tried to unfasten her bra. Finally, she had to back up to Jake. She held her pony tail out of the way so he could get at the hooks of her bra. She added it to the clothes on the nail. Her panties followed quickly.
She turned, finally managed to look at the boys. Their mouths were open, their eyes were huge. They stared at her. She flushed and covered her crotch with her hands.
"Aren't you.., going to get naked?" she asked timidly.
"Yeah. Hey, guys, come on, let's get naked," Jake said.
Lois stood there, shivering in spite of the summer warmth, and watched them strip. In seconds they were all as naked as she was.
Their. . . whatever they were. . . pointed at her. What were they called? Something that started with a p.
"Wh. . . what's a circle jerk?" Lois asked, uncomfortable under the concerted stares. Her crotch hurt.
Jake, the leader, took command. "You lie down on the floor, and we stand around you and jerk off."
"Lie down on the floor?" Lois said reluctantly. The floor was dirt. "Do I have to?"
"Hey, Stew, where's that mattress we got?" Jake asked.
"I'll get it," Charlie announced. Lois noticed that his crotch hair was a darker red than the hair on his head.
In seconds Charlie was back with a mattress that was little better than the floor.
"Lie down," Jake ordered.
Hesitantly, Lois obeyed. She lay down self consciously on her back, and folded her hands over her stomach. The boys stood around her. Their penises-that was the name-their penises, dangled over her. When they gripped their organs and began pumping them, she couldn't believe it. Self-abuse! It was supposed to make you go blind. Something like that.
The sight of them holding their shafts made her insides coil into a hot knot of excitement. In spite of all she had been taught and told and threatened with her hands slipped down toward her aching, itching, hungry crotch. She fingered her little slit delicately as she eyed first one bobbing penis, then another. The boys began sweating as they pumped their cocks. She wanted to reach up and touch one of the bobbing cylinders, to feel the dusky tip of Jake's, or the pink head of Charlie's.
The boys licked their lips as they stared down at her, at her breasts, at her crotch. As she lay there on the soiled mattress, her hips began to squirm. Her finger found a special spot. Pressing the little bump in the heart of her sex sent an unexpected wave of heat rippling through her.
A finger slipped into her hole. It was awfully wrong, of course. But what could she do? She was trapped here, at their mercy! She slipped her finger into her vagina and thought about how awful she was. It felt so good, it had to be sinful. It felt so fantastic, it had to be bad.
Jake's thing spurted! Something thick, and white, and burning hot erupted from the head of his penis, spattered down on her bare shoulder. It did it again, and again. Hot drops hit her neck, her dun, her breast, even her lips, as he continued to jerk his spouting shaft. Without meaning to, she licked the searing goo off her lips. Instantly, her mouth was filled with a wondrous flavor. Her own flame-wracked body rose on a searing fireball of hellfire pleasure.
The other cocks were jetting and showering her now, spattering her pale flesh with creamy blobs. Her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, her face, even her crotch-her whole body was being showered with their.., whatever it was. It was unbelievable, incredible, exciting and frightening and exhilarating.
Closing her eyes, Lois abandoned herself to the tidal wave that was lashing her young body. She felt the stuff that had spattered her drying on her flesh. It felt cold and sticky as she spread her thighs wide and wormed her finger deep into her hole.
"Take her arms," Jake ordered.
"No," Lois wailed as they dragged her hands away from her slit. It had felt so good! She didn't want to stop. She glared at them as Simon and Charlie held her arms out like she was being crucified.
"Gotta get into that," Jake snorted, forcing his way between her thighs. His hand was clutching his still-swollen, hungry cock.
"Jesus, Jake!" Stew swore.
"Shut up, you'll get your turn," Jake growled.
"Noooo," Lois moaned.
The huge thing jabbed at her slit, wedged into her. A searing, ripping spasm of pain/pleasure flogged her brain into numbness. Then there was a feeling of fullness.
She felt Jake's penis drive deep into her. She thought she was going to die. Then her weight crashed down on her, and the special spot in her slit that her finger had found was pinched into a mass of pleasure. She was whirled away into the grip of sensations she had never felt before.
Jake pistoned in and out of her, in and out, until she thought she was going to be torn wide open. But it felt so good to have him between her thighs, grinding her clit into a ravaged nubbin of ecstasy. She began whimpering and whining as he pumped in her harder and faster.
Then, suddenly, he drove full depth into her, and his penis twitched and jerked and did strange thing way inside her. She knew he was puffing the same stuff in her that he had showered on her. She jiggled and squirmed and wriggled and heaved as he pound thick juice into her stretched tunnel.
For a minute Jake lay on top of her, panting and exhausted. Then he dragged himself off, and Charlie took his place. Her arms were still being held. By Simon and Stew? It didn't matter who it was. She was helpless was all that mattered. There was nothing she could do. Not that there was anything she wanted to do.
She was jammed full again, full of a mammoth stick of meat. And it was pumping in her, and her cunt was being hammered, and It was frighteningly wonderful. She was rising toward an unknown peak. She felt her insides being pounded and stroked and rubbed and beaten and stirred.
She went, up and up and up and up, as Charlie rammed at her, raped her, then proceeded to fill her with yet another load of cream. She felt his penis leaping and heaving as it spurted in her.
She was beyond struggling now. Charlie finished and pulled out. One of her arms were released, but she did nothing to protect herself as Simon speared her with his jutting shaft. She lay spread on the mattress and let another cock piston in and out of her. It drove her closer and closer to the eruption she had never felt, but sensed existed.
Simon finished quickly. His stuff gutted her until the overflow pressured out and spilled down over her bottom, stained the already-soiled mattress. She was close to her own release point, but not quite there. The tension was unbearable. Then Simon was ripping out of her, leaving her hanging just shy of the explosion that would bring relief.
Stew was there. Shy, fearful, frightened Stew. There, thrusting out from his spine kinks of hair, was what she needed so desperately. But he wasn't going to give it to her!
"Please," she moaned. "Please, Stew."
"I won't, don't worry, I won't," he assured her, misunderstanding her request.
"Go on, man, fuck her," Jake urged. "Shit, she's begging for it. If you don't, I will."
With a groan, he sank down on her. Her hips lifted, welcomed his cock. It thrust into her on a slithery cushion of hot goo. He stroked deep into her, so deep she felt him hit bottom, stab impatiently at the end of her tunnel. She was rocketed upward as he pound against her. She reached that high point and went off like a rocket. Everything dissolved in a glittering cloud of sparkles as Stew's big penis flooded her already inundated cunt with cream. She whirled away on a feathery cloud of pleasure and exhaustion. Finally, she had made it.
"Jesus, Baby, suck it."
Grant's gross words brought Clara abruptly back to the present. She focused her eyes just in time to see Lois take Grant's dick into her mouth. Clara's pussy drooled into her panties as she watched Lois take Grant's entire pecker. Then Lois began bobbing her head eagerly.
Suddenly, Wil was dragging Clara's panties down and baring his cock. In seconds, she felt his shaft drive into her depths. She clutched him as he fucked her, right there in front of Grant and Lois! From the sucking, slurping, swallowing sounds, Grant had already cum.
Clara spread her legs wide, drew her knees up, let Wil rape her. For the first time, he was really, really in charge. He was driving deep into her, pounding at her strongly, impatiently. She clawed his back as he rammed into her again and again and again. He drove her toward her flooding peak of pleasure. Then she was over the top and tumbling down the other side.
In moments the quick animal coupling was done and Clara was lying there, panting under Wil. She turned her head. Grant was sprawled on his back. His dick was drained and limp and Lois was sitting on his face. Clara wished she could see what Grant was doing to Lois. Her hips were bucking madly. Loud sucking sounds filled the room.
Then, with a moan, Lois folded over Grant's face, smothered him with her orgasming cunt. Clara sighed and let her eyes close.
Chapter Three
As hard as she tried, Clara could not get the tale of the gang bang out of her mind. Her feelings about the story astonished her. Rather than disgust, or horror, there was envy. She had the feeling that she had missed something, rather than escaped it.
Her memories of her experiences with Wil added to her dissatisfaction. There must be more to sex than what she had felt so far. What was the song? "Is that all there is?" If that was all there was, then she would keep dancing.
She thought of how her parents would feel about what she had done already, and shivered guiltily. As she looked down at the dark campus, she thought of her home, and her gut knotted. What had she become?
Then she thought of Lois being the helpless toy of four boys, and getting cock after cock. Clara's pussy began to drool with hunger.
The ringing of the telephone in the hallway interrupted her reverie. For a moment she let it ring, hoping someone else would answer it. Then she remembered that the dorm was virtually deserted-everyone was at the movies-and hauled herself up off her bed. She tied the belt of her robe and wiped her slimy fingers on the quilted cotton. She hadn't realized she had been fingering her sopping cunt as she daydreamed. Her gut was an aching knot of horniness.
"Hey there, anybody home?" a strange male voice asked when she answered the telephone.
"Yes, me," Clara said, a little nettled by the bluff breeziness of the caller.
"Well, whoever you are, you sound beautiful and sexy," the voice went on.
"Do tell," Clara sniffed, "anyone special you want? Or are you just getting warmed up for the heavy breathing? Or maybe the dirty words?" She figured it was one of their regular obscene callers.
"I'm calling to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime," he went on with unabashed enthusiasm. "You, and any other lucky ladies there, are invited to a come-as-you-are beer blast at Hemlock House!"
"Oh?" Clam asked warily, interested in spite of herself. Hemlock House was a notorious off campus dorm. She had heard of their parties, but never dreamed she'd consider accepting such an invitation. "Just when is this blast going to come oft?"
"Right now, of course."
"And it's come as you are?"
"Affirmative."
"What," she began, trying to still the tremor in her voice, "if I am naked?"
"Fair lady, why do you think we give such short notice?" His tone raised the hair on the back of her neck, and made her insides coil into a hot knot.
"Do you really think I'll show up?" she asked, knowing what would happen if she did, knowing she was going to.
"Aren't you?" he taunted. Obviously, he knew the answer.
"Half an hour," Clara said. "No," she corrected hastily when she realized that if she took that long, good sense and fear would keep her from going. "Fifteen minutes."
"Right ho!" he responded, and hung up.
For a moment, Clara just stood there, the receiver in one sweaty hand, and wondered what she thought she was doing. She hadn't even asked if there were going to be other girls there. She really hoped there wouldn't be. The call, coming light in the middle of her daydreaming about Lois' gang rape, had caught her at a vulnerable moment.
She knew she shouldn't go. She hurried into her room and ran a comb through her hair. Then she glanced down at herself. The robe was ankle length, and looked enough like a coat that she could get away with it. She slipped her panties off and her shoes on.
Ten minutes later eight men were escorting her down to the combination bar and game room m the basement of the rambling old mansion. Downstairs were two other girls, and four more men. She knew them only by sight.
The guys were dressed in blue jeans and sweat shirts. The other two girls had either cheated on the "come as you are" part of the invitation, or been caught in jeans and tank tops. Clara, in her bathrobe, was immediately the center of attention. She was surrounded by men, and a drink was pressed into her hand.
Someone slammed the juke box into action and music dinned around her, battering her already swimming senses. She began to dance. As her guts boiled, she tied to tell herself she was drunk.
She knew she wasn't The robe whipped around her bare legs as she danced dreamily. The faces around her blurred as she spun. They were clapping for her. Even the other girls were watching as she whirled around the room. Everyone was watching her! Everyone!
Her belt loosened as she swirled. A hand reached out, tugged, and the knot gave way. Just a single twist was holding the belt closed now and only the belt was holding the robe closed. The twist loosened, the robe loosened, and the neckline deepened towards her waist. The robe opened, upwards from the bottom, toward her boiling crotch. Air touched her bare flesh, as did the hungry stares of a dozen pairs of eyes.
There was another tug on the belt, and it whipped free. Clara clutched at her single covering, restrained it enough to keep a few secrets, but not enough to discourage her audience. She continued to dance. Something was driving her on, forcing her to keep moving. She knew if she stopped she would panic and run. One part of her wanted to run. But another part wouldn't allow it, because running away would mean the hunger in her groin would continue eating at her like a hot, cancerous worm.
So, she danced. She kicked away her shoes. Her bare feet whispered over the cold, dusty tile. The robe slipped until it was flickering open and shut over her brown muff, and just barely concealing her tits.
Another drink was thrust at her. She reached for it.
As her hand closed on the glass, her robe spread open, bared her tits and cunt. As air whipped over her skin there was a bellow of admiration from the crowd.
There had been a subtle change in her audience as Clara danced. The other girls were each with two men. The men's hands were fondling and probing and touching one of the girls was up on the bar. Her shirt was shoved up so her lush jugs were bare. She was hugging two men to her. As they fed on her boobs, their hands probed her crotch, fondled her through her jeans.
Someone tugged on Clara's robe from behind. She let them drag it off her shoulders, down her arms. She whirled away from it. She was ravishingly, excitingly naked and free and unfettered. She danced for the hungry men, not about to let the other girls steal her attention.
There were hands on her now. They were probing and touching her, bruising her, bringing her to a searing boil. Her breasts were clutched and touched and brushed until they ached. Her ass was patted and stroked.
She stopped as bodies pressed in around her. Then the men were stripping off their clothes, baring their cocks, cocks that were drooling for her. Hands gripped her, probed her naked pussy, found the swamp of her hungry hole. In a whirl of wanton horniness she was passed around the circle of men. Hand after hand felt her up. Every touch made her pussy steam hotter than ever. Then the hands on her became bolder. Her cunt was drilled, her clit was punished, her labes were pinched and tormented by rude fingers.
She was guided back through the crowd, away from the bar, away from the other girls, who were now as naked as she was. As the men closed in, Clara saw a mammoth cock drill into the blonde pussy of the girl on the bar. Mother man was at the girl's head. He was leaning over her and pistoning his penis in her mouth.
Then there was something hard behind Clara's ass and she tumbled backwards. The green felt of the pool table was harsh against her naked ass as she was bent back over the rail. Hands were clutching her legs, forcing her thighs wide, opening her pussy. Other hands were dragging at her arms, spread-eagling her on the table. The rail was under her butt. The cold metal lifted her hips, invited penetration of her gaping cunt.
Clara surveyed the men leering at her. Waving, dripping cocks surrounded her. They all wanted her. All those cocks had one target. The knowledge brought fear, a feeling of power, and joy, and anticipation.
Then someone was leaning over her and she felt a dick poke at her twat. She let her eyes close as a wave of lust roared over her. It was happening!
Cock slid into her, drilled her, pressed open her inflamed cuntlips. She moaned. Her breasts were being squeezed and pressed, bruised and twisted. She was being glutted with dong, crammed with cock. The man pistoned in her swampy hole, pumped his towering shaft deep into her. While the one man raped her, the others watched, held her spread wide as they impatiently waited their turns. She struggled weakly against their grasp.
The cock pistoned in her forever. She rose closer and closer to her own searing climax. Then she felt spasming and spurting in her. Hot cum filled her sucking cunt. She writhed ecstatically. She was so close to cumming.
The jetting stopped and the cock was yanked rudely out of her. She moaned and heaved as her cuming receded.
"Fuck me," she wailed. "Fuck me!"
A cock slammed into her brutally. She groaned. Her hips bucked, her pussy flooded. The cock pistoned in her, quick and hard. She was jarred by each impact as the dick burned her twat hole with friction. She was lifting up toward the peak again, up toward the glittering explosion.
But before she could crest, the dick in her unloaded, fountained wave after searing wave of goo into her pussy. She writhed and struggled in a desperate attempt to reach the summit of pleasure. She fell short. Her second attacker abandoned her, left her with just swilling cum and a memory.
Then there was another prick. Things were beginning to get a bit hazy. The new cock slammed into her. She didn't know, or care, if it was the third or the fourth, or the tenth or the hundredth. Her pussy was a bruised, battered mass of meat. The man ground her labes, pistoned his dick in her cunt. She heaved and writhed as the cock pumped in her cunt, and then flooded her with waves of thick creamy jizz. She felt hot rivers of goo streaming down over her butt, down past her asshole.
Someone ordered her to turn over. She tried to, but was too weak. Hands pushed and shoved, rolled her over. She was bent over the rail so her ass was high in the air.
Another cock drilled her pussy, rammed into her already inundated depths. She felt a wave of cum pump out of her flooded cunt as the cock penetrated her sodden channel. Her ravisher leaned over her, pound her gut against the rail and fucked her with powerful thrusts. She focused on a hard-on near her face. She swallowed, and sought the erect tower of meat with her mouth. She failed. The man screwing her pushed against her and began to unload in heavy spurts. Foaming waves of goo drizzled down her thighs. She moaned as her twat was drowned by another load of cum.
There was a bellow of laughter as the next man came up behind her. Something pushed at the wrong hole! She thought for a moment it was just a case of bad aim. But then the pressure increased, and she knew it was deliberate. It felt fantastic! She tried to open her asshole. As the cock slowly pried its way into her ass, she felt her ring of muscle stretch. It began to hurt. Her mouth gaped as the hot cock was slowly driven into her tiny hole.
There was a slithering snap as if something had broken, and then she was being stuffed with dork. It felt like a mammoth turd! Only it was going the wrong way! It was bringing her pleasure she had never believed possible. Pinned down on a pool table, she was being overwhelmed by the searing glory of a cock up her tail.
Her pussy was pinched by the mass in her bung. A wave of cum spurted from her empty hole and dribbled in thick gobs down her thighs. The cock in her tail began to piston in her depths. It burned in and out of her tortured anus until she thought she was going to be turned inside out. Then it began to leap and jump in her rectum and she felt hot cream hosing her bowels. The blazing enema went on and one and on, until there was barely a twitch. Then her guts went into action and crapped out the shriveling invader.
Another cock plunged into her pussy. She felt herself floating away in a haze of pain and pleasure. The world was a blur of pounding cocks as she was taken again and again and again.
Then she was rolled over on her back. Someone got up on the table with her. They straddled her, and pushed a cock against her lips. Someone else held her head up, and her face was getting fucked. She sucked and tasted thick waves of something, and then she was choking and gasping as semen spurted down her throat.
When she finally returned to reality, she was being helped off the pool table. Weakly, she focused her eyes. The other girls were supporting her. She felt a wave of cum stream out of her as she staggered weakly along. "More," she groaned. Her cunt spasmed.
"Come on, honey, time for a shower," the blonde who had been on the bar ordered.
"Jeez, she really took a load," the other girl noted as they guided Clara toward the stabs. Clara gazed around. The men were in a self-consciously noisy knot. They were still naked, but their cocks were all limp. She knew, somehow, that they were ashamed of what they had done. She wanted to reassure them, to tell them it was okay. After all, she had asked for it, hadn't she? But, before she could say anything, she was hustled up the stairs.
"Crazy kid," the blonde commented as she carefully washed Clara's asshole. "You're not the type for this kind of shit."
Clara wanted to argue, but was too exhausted to talk.
"Where you from, honey?" the blonde asked they had dried her off and gotten her robe back on her.
Clara managed to croak out the name of her dorm. Then there was a car, and her bed, and deep, deep sleep.
Chapter Four
"I don't know if we should be going," Wil said, leaning close so Clara could hear him over the clatter of the subway. It was a week later, and they were headed for Lois' apartment in the Village.
"Oh, Wil! Don't be a party pooper," Clara grumbled.
"We could have just as good a time at my place," Wil argued. "Besides, she's awful kinky."
"Not that kinky," Clara snapped, remembering how she had been aroused by Lois' tale of the gang rape.
"Grant said he was going to punish her for being late so much," Will went on. "We shouldn't be there for that."
"Why shouldn't we? If they don't mind?" Clara asked.
"Grant plays kind of rough," WII answered. "He kind of scares me sometimes."
"Shit. You're just chicken!"
"Watch that," Will growled.
"Or you'll do what?" Clara taunted, again put off by Wil's lack of forcefulness.
"Just watch it," Wil repeated.
Clara let The subject drop, and instead thought back to the previous weekend. It hadn't been an orgy, really. But it had come close enough for her first time. Then she thought about the way Lois had sucked Grant's cock. The memory of his hard meat between Lois' lips did things to Clara's insides. Grant had been so totally in charge, too. He had clutched Lois' hair and forced her head up and down. His hips had heaved, thrust his cock into her.
The fuck Clara and Wil had shared after that had been their best ever. Better than the slow one the next morning. For a change Wil had been demanding, impatient. But after that night he had gone back to being his usual polite, timid self.
"Fourteenth Street," Wil noted as the train squealed to a hilt. "Next stop."
"You've been to her place before?" Clara asked.
"No, but the directions are rather simple."
At the Fourth Street Station he led her up the maze of ramps and out on to the slushy sidewalk. Then minutes later they were on the top floor of an old loft, and he was ringing the bell at a shining, jet black door. The air was thick with the smell of incense.
The door opened and let loose a blast of music. Lois smiled and yelled something over her shoulder about turning down the volume. She was dressed more exotically than before, though just as erotically. Her shining black hot pants were tightly molded to the roundness of her butt. The bib top left her back completely bare. It fastened at the nape of her neck. It was made of a translucent black stretch lace that covered, but did not conceal, her large, firm breasts.
The music sank to a bearable level, and Lois turned back to them. Clara felt Wil reacting to Lois' sexy outfit, and her aggravation with him increased.
"Doesn't the noise bother the neighbors?" Clara asked, then felt foolish when she recalled that with the door shut, not a whisper had leaked out.
"Not the way I had the place soundproofed," Lois answered. "And besides, there aren't any neighbors."
Clara controlled her urge to tell Wil to stop ogling their hostess and turned her attention to the apartment. It had two rooms, apparently. The one they were in was a living room. It was garishly decorated with strange modernistic paintings and sculpture. Brightly colored pillows of all sizes were scattered over the thick black carpet.
"C'mere, baby," Grant told Lois. His fingers closed around her ponytail, held her for his kiss. Lois leaned back. Her hands were submissively at her sides as her mouth locked with his. Enviously, Clara studied the domineering lust behind the kiss.
"HI, troops, Grant said cheerfully after breaking the kiss with Lois. He didn't release his grasp on her hair. "Come on, let's go into the studio. Got some good grass tonight."
The studio was even more intriguing then the living room. One huge wall was mirrors. A ballet bar bisected them. At the other end of the room slanting windows revealed the velvet night sky. An easel and paints stood in one corner.
"You paint?" Clara asked Lois, somehow surprised.
"Lois is all things to all people. Aren't you, babe?" Grant asked her. As she mumbled her agreement, he gave her a pat on the rump and told her to go get the wine. "Lois is an artist, a model, a dancer, and an actress. But above all, a woman."
"It's not hard to see that," Wil said headily. Clara glanced at him sourly.
"Did she furnished this place?" Clara asked.
"Used to be a dance studio and an art school," Lois answered, coming back into the room. "I just asked a few... special features of my own."
As they lounged around talking, Clara wondered what special features Lois meant. She began feeling more favorably inclined toward Wil. He pulled her to him, and curled his hand around the underside of her breast. She was glad she had worn her short lace dress. In it, even though she was wearing bra and panties, she was almost able to compete with Lois. Clara deliberately let the skirt ride up on her thighs and snuggled against Wil. She wished he'd move his hand over her breast. She wanted Grant to know Lois wasn't the only wanton in the world.
"Are you going to beat me for being so late?" Lois asked Grant during a lull in the conversation.
"Of course," Grant said quietly, his eyes locked on hers.
"When?" she asked in her soft, breathy voice. Her big tits were rising and falling tensely. Her nipples were hard as rocks.
"Now," Grant answered.
"Clara?" Wil whispered.
"Oh, shut up, will you?" Clara snapped. "They want us here. Watch! You might learn something." "Don't hurt me too much," Lois pleaded softly. "No more than you deserve, baby! Go let down the hook."
"Yes, Grant," Lois whispered, raising gracefully to her feet. She undid a rope from a cleat on the wall and a length of chrome chain descended from the ceiling. After lowering it until it was about four feet off the floor, she handed the end of the rope to Grant.
Clara's chest tightened as Lois obeyed Grant's next calm order. She walked over to the hook, and turned to face them. She fumbled with the end of the chain, and with the black leather ornament that was braided into her hair.
When she lowered her hands to her sides, Grant took a deep drag on the marijuana. He pulled on the rope, and Lois' hair rose. There was a flash of pain on her face as she went up on her toes. Clara felt a wrench of sympathy in her guts, a twinge in her scalp, and a hot sizzling in her pussy.
"Here, hold this," Grant ordered, handing the rope to Wil.
"No, I. . ."
"I will," Clara said quickly, grabbing the rope out of Grant's hands. "Chicken," she hissed at Wil.
"Let's get out of here," Wil said softly as Grant got up.
"Oh, shut up," Clara snorted, deliberately moving his hand up over her breast and pressing his palm into her soft mound. She wished she hadn't worn a bra.
Using the long, silky coil of Lois' hair, Grant tied her wrists together behind her neck. The position made her breasts lift almost out of her sheer top. Clara felt Wil's grasp on her own boob tighten. She saw a faint cloud of marijuana smoke drift from his mouth. She sucked in a deep drag of her own, and felt her mind fogging as the grass did its work.
Grant took the rope from Clara and wound it around the cleat. Then he stripped off his shirt, and was naked to the waist. His torso was strongly muscled and hard. Clara wriggled lower in Wil's grasp and leaned back against him. She carefully squirmed her dress up so her panties were exposed, then parted her legs a little. Feeling a powerful desire to be in the same position Lois was, Clara sucked in a deep draught of smoke which increased her horniness.
Much to her surprise, Wil reached down and hauled her loose dress up. He bared her panties, and finally her bra, as he bunched her dress under her arms. Grant caught sight of her near nakedness, and studied her boldly.
Then he turned to Lois and reached behind her neck. The front of her outfit dropped to her waist, exposed her magnificent globes. Lois looked up at
Grant worshipfully as he fondled her bare jugs. Then he pinched her nipples, and her adoration was tinged with pain and lust.
The sight of Lois' tits really turned Wil on. His hands clutched Clara's tightly. His fingers dug into her through her bra. She reached behind her back with both hands, found the lump of his dick, and squeezed. With both hands behind her, she could pretend she too was bound helplessly.
Lois began writhing as Grant toyed with her tits. It was impossible to tell whether it was from pain or from lust. Her eyes glittered as he pinched and tortured her pink nipples. He twisted and tugged first one, then the other.
His other hand held a short thonged cat-o-nine-tails. Clara wondered where on earth it had come from.
Wil was getting more and more turned on. He had the mouthpiece of the water pipe clamped between his teeth so both his hands were free to work on Clara's aching tits. When he yanked upwards on her bra, she moaned. Her breasts were crushed and mangled as he dragged the bra over them, bunched it with her dress.
Then, amazingly, he wrestled her completely out of her dress and bra. Clara was shocked and incredibly aroused by his unexpected display. She turned half toward him. He grabbed her hands, pulled them, dragged her back against him again.
There was a meaty smut. Clara winced. Grant had swung the whip against Lois' tight gut. She flinched, rocked reflexively away from the blow. Still tormenting her tits, Grant brought the whip around and smacked the small of her back.
"Open my fly," Wil ordered Clara softly.
Fumbling awkwardly, she found his zipper, and managed to loosen it and drag it down. His cock tented up his underpants and jutted into her hands. Frantically, she freed it and got her fingers around it.
She was bare to her waist. She was wearing only panties, garter belt and stockings. She saw Grant glance at her, but did nothing to shield her thinly-covered pussy from him. Wil was fingering her tits, fondling them, pinching and rolling them, sending hot 'waves of lust through her.
Lois' torso was pinking up from the slow beating she was getting. The blows were obviously just hard enough to sting without really huffing. But the hauling and twisting at her hair as she writhed in reaction to the beating had to be agony. Her total helplessness really appealed to Clara. The idea of being so totally at the mercy of a man made her pussy spasm.. She wished Wil had had the sense to tie her hands, instead of leaving them free, so she had to pretend she was helpless in his grasp. He could have used her bra.
Out of the corner of his eye, Grant was keeping track of Wil and Clara. Wil was showing up better than he had expected, but clearly wasn't aware of what he had in his hands. Clara was ripe for the picking if Wil handled it right.
Oh, sure, Wil and Clara had fucked a few times. But Clara was one of those slits that need to be dominated. Which was the reason for this scene with Lois. It had been set up on purpose, not that they didn't frequently enjoy this type of action without any excuse at all.
And he sure was enjoying it. He studied Lois lovingly as she hung there with her hands tied behind her head. Her tits quivered with every stinging stroke of the whip against her gut. She was getting incredibly turned on, more from her helplessness than from the pain.
Grant wondered how Lois would take it if he left her hanging there and went over to Clara. Clara was squirming on the floor in just panties and garter belt and stockings. Christ! What a body she had! Just the right amount of padding to take her soft and desirable.
"What do you think, baby?" Grant asked Lois. "Is she ripe for it?"
"Forget her, Grant," Lois moaned. "Do me."
Grant pinched one of her tits and watched her eyes haze over with pain and ecstasy. "Is she ripe for it?"
"Yes, Grant," Lois moaned. "But let Wil do her.
If you leave me now I don't know what I'll do."
"No sweat, baby," Grant assured her. "Unless, of course, you get me really pissed."
"I won't, Grant. I promise I won't!"
The devotion and need in her eyes confirmed her statement.
He stroked her taut, drawn body, lifted and pressed her fantastic tits. His cock was as hard as iron. Its chance would came, soon. Very soon.
Giving Lois' pinked gut one last slap with the whip, Grant strolled over to where the rope was fastened to the wail. Undoing it, he cased the tension off a little, so Lois could get her feet flat on the floor. Then he refastened it and went back to her.
"Bend your knees, baby," he ordered.
"No, Grant, please," Lois pleaded.
"Bend your knees," he repeated. "Or I'll kick your feet out from under you. You know how much that hurts."
"Yes, Grant," she moaned. She bent her knees, slowly, until her hair was drawn tight again.
Grant went and eased the tension on the rope, slowly lowered Lois until her knees were almost touching the floor. But not quite. She was suspended by her hair. Her knees were an inch from the floor. Then he went back to her, and pushed her around sideways so that he could see Wil and Clara and they could see what Lois was doing.
"Open my fly, baby, and get my dick out," he ordered.
She tugged at her hands, which were still bound behind her neck by her hair.
"Use your mouth," Grant said, grinning down at her.
Lois groaned, and made a thrust at his pants. She swung from the rope and braced her toes against the floor for traction. Her breasts heaved, and a big drop of sweat traced a twisting path down between the big mounds. She managed to close her teeth on the tongue of his belt and shove it free. Grant braced himself as she fought to pt the buckle loose. Finally, she succeeded.
She got the hook at the waist of his pants by twisting her head sideways against the tension in her hair, clamping her jaw on his trousers, and jerking hard.
Then it was just a matter of tonguing up the tab of his zipper and dragging it painfully downwards. His pants loosened. Grant let them drop and gazed down at the jutting lump in his underpants. Lois got a grip on them with her teeth, and hauled them down, lower and lower. His bush sprang into view, then the tip of his dick, which was tilted up against his gut. She squirmed and writhed. The chain fastened to her hair groaned. His pecker tilted out and down, toward her face. She pulled his pants lower, and lower, and lower.
With a final moan of agony and satisfaction, she sagged back and drew her feet under her to take the strain off her hair. Her face was slick with sweat.
"Suck it, baby," Grant ordered, waving his drooling dick in her face.
With a sigh of pleasure, she complied. Her mouth gaped open as she sought his swaying tool. Her tongue touched his pecker, guided it into her gaping maw. She caressed his dong with her lips and tongue. He felt her teeth gently, very gently, scrape the flesh of his dork. She knew how to do it. Most women were hopeless at sucking cock. Lois knew how he liked it. And she could do it with both hands tied behind her!
She leaned forward, took his dick to the back of her throat. She changed from her squatting position and hung from her hair again, and used the pendulum of hair and chain to swing gently. She slid his dick along her tongue. The stroking caused a hot sizzling in his nuts and knotting in his prostate.
Tearing his eyes off the sight of his dick spearing her mouth, Grant looked over at Clara and Wil. Wil was fondling Clara's naked tits with one hand. His other was buried inside her panties. She was writhing against him. Her hands were behind her back. Grant wondered if Wil had actually tied her.
No. Not Wil. Nat yet. She was pretending to be tied, though. Jeez! When would Wil get the message?
As Grant watched, Clara spread her thighs. Grant imagined how her hot twat would feel around his finger. Wil was doing that much, at least.
Lois' tongue swirled around his dork, and Grant's attention came back to her. Her breasts heaved as she sucked his dick. Too bad he hadn't thought to get her naked. But then, there was pleasure in being naked himself, while she was just topless.
Her eyes closed, her face beaded with sweat, Lois sucked on his dick. His nuts began to boil. Her face was a mask of lust as she drew on his meat. He wondered if she was going to cum just from the pain and the humiliation.
She choked and gagged on the monster shaft stuffing her mouth. But she didn't stop. She just sucked harder. The fireball was getting bigger with every hot stroke of her tongue on his pecker. Spit gleamed on her chin. His hips began to push at her, to fuck her face. As his horniness built, he reached down, grabbed her ears, and used them to guide her fucking. He dragged her on and off his cock. He felt the head of his tool jam the back of her mouth. She choked. His balls felt as big as apples they were so loaded with cum.
It was coming: the express train load of jizz was coming Grant let it loose and held Lois on his cock. She didn't like the taste of cum, and he knew it.
That was why he made her do it. He felt his semen spatter her mouth, her tongue, saw her gut knot as she gagged. But she swallowed it. Her tongue rubbed his dork as she gulped down wave after burning wave of cream. His balls twisted, wringing themselves out in her sucking mouth. A dribble of jizz escaped her sucking lips, spilled down her chin, and dripped to the floor. He kept thrusting at her until his guts ached. Then he let go of her ears, let her lick his dick clean.
He glanced over at Clara and Wil. When Clara saw him looking at her, she squirmed around, slid down on Wil. Her mouth sought his jutting cock.
Her lips closed on his hard, hot meat. She felt the blood pulsing in his veins. She tasted his first seepings. She knew Grant was watching her go down on Wil. She gripped Wil's dick and drew his hot shaft into her mouth. Her gut knotted with revulsion as she tried to take more of his throbbing shaft into her mouth.
A clink and rattle distracted her. She looked over and saw Grant release Lois' hair from the overhead chain. Using the loop of hair from her head to her wrists, he hauled her across the floor. Her heels bumped along behind her.
Her gut wrenching with sympathy for her helpless hostess, Clara went back to Wil's cock. She began fondling the tender eggs of his balls. Wil was slouched back on a stack of pillows. His ass tightened, lifted his dick in a fucking motion. His hands came down to caress her head as she sucked him.
Clara traced the groove between cock-head and shaft and felt his cock quiver. She brushed the underside, and felt stinging fluid on her tongue. Her head was filled with the rich stink of his juice. She pressed against the underside of his cock, pinched it against the roof of her mouth, against the sharp edge of her upper teeth.
Wil groaned. His fingers curled in her hair, gathered a fist-full of her soft locks. He began guiding her head in an up and down motion. His hips thrust in counterpoint, drove his dick-head bruisingly, gaggingly, to the back of her mouth. Clara rose and tipped her head so she could get his prick down her throat. She wanted to swallow his thrusting shaft. She fingered his nuts and twisted and gulped. An inch at a time, she gained on the enormous block of meat.
Her breasts hanging, her ass high, Clara swallowed cock. She fingered Wil's balls, willed his cumming. She wanted his spurts to spray her throat, to boil in her stomach, to flood her mouth and coat her gullet.
She felt his balls knot up against his groin. The first thick mass burst over her tongue, coated her mouth with essence. She gulped, drove his cock to the back of her mouth. She fondled his pulsing, squirting nuts. She choked as a globule of jizz hit her throat. Slurping and sucking, she drew his thick cream from his guts. Deliberately, she let a thick, white drop escape her lips and spill down his cock. She wanted everyone to see what she was swallowing so eagerly, so willingly. Her head was swimming as the cock in her jaw pulsed. She didn't release his pecker until it was shrinking and drained. Then she leaned forward and rested her cheek on Wilts hard belly.
Chapter Five
"Or you'll what?" Clara asked, more than a little disgusted with Wil's toothless threats. She had been baiting him, deliberately, for over a week. Ever since she had seen Lois strung up by her hair, Clara's cunt had urged her to seek a similar humiliation. She was beginning to think she was going to have to turn to Grant for satisfaction.
"You're getting to be a real bitch, you know that?" Wil asked bitterly. "You're just begging for. . . far the type of thing Lois gets from Grant-"
"You haven't got the balls to do it," Clara said sourly.
"Now that's enough," Wil warned. For a moment, Clara was afraid he was going to order her to leave. That wasn't what she wanted at all. "I don't need all the fancy hardware they have. A few neckties and my belt would do the same thing."
Clara felt a surge of hope. Wil had been thinking about how to do it, at least. "So, why don't you go ahead and do it?" she asked. "Or are you too much of a eunuch?"
Wil fidgeted, trying to make a decision. Then he turned to the bureau near the bed. "Come here," he ordered. For a change, there was real forcefulness in his tone.
Clara complied. Fear tingled in her gut as excitement wet her pussy. Her tits ached in her bra. She wished she hadn't worn it.
"Turn around, and put your hands behind your back. I hope you meant what you said about these old rags you're wearing."
"Why?" Clara asked, her throat tight.
Wil took her hands. Instead of crossing them, as she had expected, he pulled them, so her arms were parallel, and each hand was by the opposite elbow. The position strained her shoulders back.
"Because after I get you tied up, I'm going to tear them off of you," Wil noted tensely, tying her wrists.
"All of them?" Clara asked softly. Her pussy was a sizzling cauldron of lust.
"All of them," he answered, giving her a rude push toward the bed. "Sit down."
Clara stumbled and sat down awkwardly. At Wil's next command she flopped to her back and lifted her feet. After he had bound her ankles with one of his neckties, he told her to stand up. To do it, she had to first roll over on her belly. Then she heaved herself upright. She hopped precariously, then turned so she could face him.
"Just remember, you asked for this," Wil warned with a hint of his old timidity.
Clara faced him as boldly as she could. The way her arms were bound made her chest stick out. Her breasts jutted forward at him.
Instead of starting on her clothes, he reached out and fondled her thrusting breasts insolently. She was totally helpless. She writhed as his fingers glided over her still-covered globes. His face gleamed with excitement as he fingered her tits. Clara's head sagged backwards as lust boiled through her. It wasn't so much from his touch, as from her total helplessness and the anticipation of what was to come. Just how was he going to get her out of the old tank top she was wearing? And what about her bra, and the tight jeans?
Wil seemed to be enjoying the chance to toy with her. He squeezed her soft breasts, watched how they took the pressure of his fingers, watched the play of expression over her face. She didn't try to conceal her growing lust. She let it twist her features as he fondled her jugs.
"Don't go away," he joked, turning his back on her. He sauntered to the bathroom. For a moment she thought he was going to strip. Then she heard him using the toilet. He was still dressed when he came back into the room. He went over to his cluttered desk.
When he turned toward her again, she cringed. He was holding a gleaming pair of scissors. Light flashed from the sharp points. She wasn't sure how he was going to use them, but hoped he would be careful.
Cold steel touched her upper tit as he slid the point of one blade in the arm hole of her top. He carefully avoided clipping her bra strap. The scissors slid over her flesh and the point emerged near her tender throat. He closed the blades.
With a soft, whirring snick he sheared through the flimsy cloth. The severed material flopped down, bared the bra cup on that side. He grinned and pricked her throat with the point of the scissors. She flinched away, and her cunt flooded with excitement.
For some reason, she had expected him to cut the other side of her top next. He didn't. She felt goose bumps ripple her flesh when the point of the scissors touched the side of her waist. With a series of soft chomps, he gnawed his way up her side. He cut upwards toward her armpit until the point of the shears jabbed her there, and the last strip of cloth was cut.
The top flopped open.
Starting at her neck, Wil angled the scissors under the strap, and, with a single slash, cut it. It dangled limply. It was hanging precariously, concealing nothing. Clara writhed with horniness as she watched Wil. He used the point of the scissors to catch the tattered top and drag it off her. He let it drop on the floor. She was now down to bra and jeans.
Two quick snips and he had cut her bra straps. She felt her tits sag from the lack of support. The cups slipped down a fraction of an inch. Grinning, Wil used the point of the scissors to tease the cups down her soft boobs. He deliberately scraped her tender flesh with the sharp metal. She looked down as the point of the scissors furrowed her pale flesh. She was helpless to defend herself!
Then, instead of simply unhooking the now strapless bra, Wil slipped the scissors up between the cups. She looked down. The blades were pointing straight at her chin. She saw them begin to close, cut into the strap between the cups. She saw the last covering of her breasts severed, until only a thin ribbon of cloth held the bra together. Then that was gone, and her bra was clinging precariously to her jutting globes.
Again, cold steel touched her breasts. This time, it slid over the full bulk of her globe and scratched her aching nipple. The point of one blade caught in the depths of one bra cup and dragged at it. She felt the other cup scrape and tug her other breast as the bra dragged around from behind her back.
Her boobs swayed and jiggled as they burst free. Her nipples were aroused and anxious. Her tits heaved as she panted with excitement.
Wil stood back and studied her bare breasts admiringly. He looked like a tailor examining the cut of a new suit.
When he came toward her again, she wondered how he was going to deal with her tight pants. He tossed the scissors aside and yanked off the button at her waist. Then he ran the zipper down. The touch of his hands against her pussy made her slit drool anxiously. Brutally, he jerked the jeans down around her ankles.
She was left in only her panties. Her cunt was a swamp of horniness. Her legs were pressed tightly together.
When Wil picked up the scissors again, she assumed he was going to cut her panties off her. He grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the bed. Caught by surprise, she almost fell. She hopped along on her bound feet as he pulled her. Then she felt the icy touch of the scissors at the small of her back.
He cut the panties down between her ass cheeks. The shears slid along the crack of her ass like a snake. Her twat dribbled with horniness as he neared it. But, he cut only to the crotch, left the panties sagging down over her ass.
Then he moved in front of her and brandished the scissors in her face. Then, his eyes on hers, he dug the point of the shears in between her stomach and the waistband of her panties. She sucked in her gut and bit her lower lip. The scissors moved toward her pussy. She felt the blades close to cut, then slip lower. Cold steel slid into her already dripping slit as Wil angled them back between her thighs. Teasingly, he wiggled the cold metal in her cunt. Then, with a final snick, cut through. The two halves of her panties dangled around the tops of her thighs.
Wil slipped the point of the shears along the inside of her left thigh, and cut. That piece of tattered material fell off in seconds, he had done the same to the right half. Only her jeans, uselessly bunched around her ankles, were left to her. Their existence made her feel even more naked and exposed.
"You've earned a thrashing, you know," Wil informed her.
Clara nodded her head tensely and swallowed hard.
"Turn around and get on the bed. Head toward the wall," Wil ordered.
Awkwardly, Clara hopped to the bed. All she could do then was fall forward. She landed hard on her cheek. The bed squeaked. Her feet and knees were on the floor. She felt cool air on her naked, exposed ass.
"No. Get your knees up on the bed."
Squirming awkwardly, she somehow managed to double up and get her knees on the bed. The position lifted her tail high in the air, made it an extremely inviting target.
There was the sound of Wil's belt buckle being undone. Clara twisted her head, looked over her shoulder, watched him drag the belt out of his pants. His cock was a monstrous lump in his trousers. She half expected him to expose it. Instead, he calmly folded the belt double in his hand.
The first blow against her tight tail was gentle. The next was harder. She jerked in reaction to the pain. Then the dam broke. Wil's tight control dissolved. He slashed at her, forehand and backhand. Cracking like a pistol, the belt seared her flesh.
Clara yelled with pain.
Wil grabbed one of the scraps of her panties and rudely stuffed it into her mouth. Then he flailed at her until she was sobbing and bawling. Her ass was on fire when he finally stopped.
Her tail aching, her cunt a swamp of horny lust, Clara cried and cried. She couldn't move because of the pain. Something was going on behind her, but she couldn't see anything through her tears.
Suddenly, there was a touch at her pussy. A hot probe was digging at her from behind, driving in between the pouting lips of her streaming cunt. Wil had shoved his pants down, and was pushing his hard cock into her. The pain in her ass was forgotten as that wonderful, glutting shaft jammed into her ravenous hole. Clara moaned around the gag still in her mouth as Wil leaned forward and speared her with his cock.
On her knees and face, her arms bound behind her back, her ankles tied, Clara let lust boil through her as the cock raped her slit. Site moaned with pain when, as he sank the last fraction of an inch into her twat, he leaned against her burning buttocks.
Grabbing her waist to steady her, Wil began pumping. Gone was his usual gentleness. It was rape. He rammed into her again and again, totally oblivious of the scorched condition of her tail. All he was interested in was satisfying his own lust, which sent Clara's pleasure higher than ever. The pistoning of his dick set her entire tormented body afire. Moaning around her panties, she squirmed, welcomed his cock into her cunt.
Wil rammed at her hard and held on. She felt his prick jump and jerk inside her. She felt cum spray her guts. Her vagina began convulsing around his erupting shaft.. The searing waves of her cumming drowned the burning pain in her tail.
She knew it was over when she felt his dick begin to shrink. He pulled out abruptly, abandoned her brutally. All she had, besides a memory, was a burning ass, an aching cunt, and cum trickling down the backs of her thighs. With a soft groan, she flopped over sideways on the bed. Finally, she managed to tongue out the sodden gag.
Wil, nude, was leaning casually against the mantels. He had a drink in his hand. He was studying her calmly. For a moment, she was terrified he was going to apologize. He didn't. Evidently, he was intrigued and pleased by her helpless state.
"Untie me." she croaked. Her mouth was dry as dust.
Wil cocked his head thoughtfully. "No, I don't think I will," he said at last.
Clara felt a thrill when she realized what kind of a monster she had released. Things were turning out even better than she had hoped!
"Well, could I have a drink, at least?"
Wil nodded and came over and held the glass to her lips. Never before had a whiskey sour tasted so good! He made no move to untie her. Her total helplessness made her steam with horniness. The way he had her arms tied made her tits thrust out boldly. He sat beside her, giving her sips from the glass from time to time. She watched his cock as it slowly swelled and expanded. Her gut tightened as she wondered what he would do next.
"Sorry I had to gag you," Wil said, "but I was afraid your yelling might bother the neighbors."
"I understand," she assured him submissively. "Is Grant home?"
"He's down at Lois'. We were invited, but I told them we couldn't make it tonight."
"Oh." Clara felt a twinge of disappointment. She wished Grant had seen her humiliation.
"We'll see them again sometimes," Wil assured her, reading her thoughts.
"That's nice," Clara murmured, sipping the sour. It was all madness. Sitting here on the bed, arms and legs bound, nude, talking casually with Will, who was also nude, was crazy.
Wil began to toy with her, began gently stroking her naked thigh. She wanted to reach over and grasp his swelling dick, but couldn't. She was forced to sit in an awkward position by the tension in her anus. She put all the longing she could into her soft whimpers. His fingers tickled her sleek thigh, inches from her starving cunt.
From her leg, Wil moved up to her tits. He lifted each, weighed them. His thumb stroked over a stiff nipple, made it throb and ache hungrily. He pinched it, sent a flash of pain darting after the pleasure.
"Like it!" he asked.
"Yes.," she choked out. Her chest began heaving as her lust grew.
He pinched harder and there was another flash of pain. Her pussy drooled between her clamped thighs. She groaned as he raked her nipple with his fingernail.
A casual push and she flopped to her back. Her arms were under her, so she had to arch over them. Her feet were on the floor. The arch in her body made bier knees part naturally.
He put his chill glass on her tight gut. She moaned with agony at the sudden, unexpected, icy touch. Slowly, he slid the glass down her bare stomach, down toward the curling brown fuzz of her pussy. She could do nothing but squirm as he drew tantalizingly near her steaming twat. Wil smiled, and studied her helpless writhings.
The glass touched her overheated twat, froze her tender tissues. Then Wil angled the glass so the bottom edge was in her furrow. He moved it slowly along her gash. The touch of the icy coldness against her clit made her convulse. Her thighs flopped open against the bonds and jeans around her ankles. Her hips bounced and thrust in a mad fucking motion, searched for something to fill her void.
"Please," she moaned when the burning in her clit became first numbness, then an agonizing ache.
Wil took the glass away, and her clit flushed and burned with relief. She sighed. Her cunt spasmed as if it was cumming.
Wil shifted, and was suddenly straddling her. His cock lay between her breasts. He leered down at her, and slid his dick forward toward her chin. She felt his prick leaving a slimy trail on her bare flesh, felt his balls slither along her chest. He moved his cock toward her mouth. There wasn't anything in the world she could do but lie there, and wait for it.
"Lick it," he ordered, sliding his dick-head over her chin to her lips.
Opening her mouth, she licked the heavy bar of meat. She tasted his jizz and her own juices and his fresh seepings. He thrust, and the rubbery tip of his dick rammed her nose. She continued lapping its underside. Her insides were a cauldron of hunger, lust, horniness, and disgust, as she licked his dick tenderly. She was looking up at him, and he was looking down at her. His cock slithered around under her wet caressing tongue. Hands on his hips, he studied her helplessness and humiliation and the naked horniness in her eyes.
She couldn't see the object of her tongue's attentions. She was barely able to see the brown bush al: his groin. His balls rested against her throat. Her tongue stroked his hot meat, made it squirm and dance over her lips. Tipping her head to one side, she tried to catch his dong between her lips, but couldn't. Then he eased back a little. She lifted her head and managed to get her lips around his cock.
She wanted him to cum in her mouth. She wanted his thick cream to spurt over her tongue and down her throat. Ignoring the pain in her neck, she slurped and sucked on the head of his cock, tried to make him jet his jizz into her mouth.
"Suck it, baby," Will groaned. He linked his hands behind her head, and hauled upwards so he could jam his cock farther into her sucking, working mouth.
Her cunt was in agony. It needed filling. But there was nothing she could do about it. She wasn't controlling what happened to her body.
She curled her tongue around Wit's hot, throbbing cock-head and managed, somehow, to bob her head in a vague fucking motion. She sucked and slurped, fought to trigger the steaming jets she wanted so much.
Wil was grinning down at her. He looked like a fiend. There was a hot glitter of savage lust in his eyes. He crawled atop her and swung his hips, fucked his dick into her mouth. He was almost sitting on her chest. His nuts slapped the underside of her chin each time he entered her.
Her nostrils flared as she inhaled and drew on his dick.
It felt like her head was about to be ripped off. She wished it would be, because then, she would be able to get his whole cock in her mouth, instead of just part of it.
"Gonna cum, Wil announced, not releasing his grip on her head.
"Mmmmpph," Clara mumbled in encouragement and milked the underside of his cock with her tongue.
With a growl of animal lust, Wil spurted into her. His cock pumping, his balls tight against her chin, he spouted thick, scalding jizz into her. Clots splattered the roof of her mouth, drowned her teeth and tongue, rushed toward her throat. She swallowed the thick goo, felt the steaming wads slide into her throat. Her mouth was coated with fragrant slime and her head was filled with the musky scent.
Her cunt spasmed around nothing in a blind, unfulfilled orgasm of frustration. The empty cumming cramped her double. Her thighs clamped together in search of the body that should have been between them.
Wil's dick gave a final feeble fucker, emitted a last dribble. Eagerly, she sucked down his last watery emission, then, wearily, let her head flop back onto the bed. Her neck felt like it had been twisted. The muscles had been strained beyond belief. She suddenly realized she had no feeling in her bound hands. Her back ached from being arched so long.
When Wil heaved himself off of her, his dick spattered her cheek with spit and cum. She moaned, and rolled over to her side, then, slowly over onto her stomach. She was absolutely beat. She was also unbelievably, exquisitely horny. Her ass was sore, her back was sore, and her neck was sore. But her cunt was hungry.
She heard Wil using the toilet. Then the flushing sound made her realize that she needed to go.
"Wil?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to go to the john." "Be my guest."
"Untie me?"
"Unh-uh."
She felt a flash of anger and pleasure. She rocked back and squatted awkwardly.
Her joints popping and creaking, she made it to her feet. Then, ludicrously, she started for the bathroom the only way she could: hopping.
The short, awkward jumps made her breasts bounce and jiggle crazily. Wil watched as she bounced her way to the bathroom. Her tits flopped at every jerky leap.
When she reached the toilet, she turned around, and tried, unsuccessfully, to shove the door closed. Finally, she lowered herself to the seat. As Wil watched from his easy chair, his legs spraddled, his cock hanging limply, she leaned forward. By levering her legs apart she managed to piss without totally soaking her thighs.
Then she realized there was no way she could wipe herself. Dismally, she told Wil her problem.
"I suppose I could leave you that way," he mused. "But I guess I wouldn't like that very much."
She cringed with shame as he took some toilet paper, and proceeded to wipe her cunt carefully. He lingered over the task until her clit was on fire from the stimulation.
After he flushed the toilet, he heaved her unceremoniously over his shoulder. Like a sack of potatoes, he carried her back into the other room and threw her onto the bed.
She was ravenous. "Wil, I need you," she moaned.
"I'm all used up," he answered casually, gesturing at his withered dick. He slouched back in the easy chair and studied her.
"Don't you want me?"
"Sure.. But I can't fuck you when I'm like this." "If I get you hard, will you fuck me?"
"You get me hard, and I'll fuck you."
"Come here," she purred, her voice warm with promise.
"Unh-uh. You want me, you come to me."
She squirmed to the edge of the bed, and, after a brief snuggle, managed to sit up. Then she started to get to her feet.
"On your knees."
Meekly, submissively, she sank down. Then she realized she couldn't crawl with her ankles bound together.
So she started toward him in an inchworm sort of motion. She bent over and pressed her cheek and one shoulder to the floor. Then she dragged her knees up to her chest. Then she reached forward again with her cheek and shoulder, and repeated the motion. The fresh humiliation brought her horniness to a new, agonizing level. If she didn't manage to get him hard, and get his cock into her, she would die from frustration.
Reaching him, she dragged herself up to his lap, and contemplated his drained, crusty prick. She sought it with her mouth, then tongued it lovingly. She mumbled his drained penis around in her mouth, desperately tried to arouse the rubbery, soggy sausage of flesh.
Slowly, so slowly she wasn't even sure at first, his dick began to respond. While she sucked fresh life into his prick, he stroked her head as if she were a pet dog. Her pussy drooled hungrily as she tongued his gradually-swelling pecker.
Bit by bit, his cock expanded, filled her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the rubbery tip, around and around the conical knob. She was tasting his cum, her spit, and the juices left from his first penetration of her.
His cock was half hard now. She felt the blood pulsing into it, distending it, inflating it. She sucked, drew still more blood into it.
Her cunt was a seething cave of hunger. This time, she would get it. The first time had been such a shock she hadn't really had a chance to enjoy it. And it had been from behind, so her clit had been unstimulated. This time, somehow, she would take him face to face, so her clit would be ground into a flaming smear.
His cock was nearly ready. She sucked on it, then let it flop against his belly, so she could lick the underside from balls to tip. Then she tongued his balls. When she stroked his dick she felt it shudder and swell still more.
When Wil pushed her away from his erect cock, she was terrified he was going back on his promise. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the bed and dropped her on her back. Her legs trailed off the edge. Bending down, he untied her ankles, then pulled her jeans off.
With a moan of gratitude, she spread her legs wide and thrust her cunt at him. She put all the longing she could in her eyes. He hovered over her. When he finally lowered himself onto her, she thought she was going to die. His cock nuzzled into her pussy, slid deep into her hole. The way was well greased by the hours of stimulation she had endured. His cock sank into her, pushed blindly against the end of her tunnel. Then, he rested. After an eternity, she felt his fingers pry behind her back and fumble with the ties that held her wrists. Suddenly, she was free!
Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she humped madly, ground her clit between them. Wil hugged her, and began to piston his cock in her swampy shaft. Their bodies met with a wet, smacking slap. He pounded her crotch tissues to a soggy pulp. His fingers dug into her tail, pried her ass cheeks apart, probed her crack. She clutched his tight, hard butt, urged him to thrust deep into her.
She began muttering and moaning as fire raged through her. The flames surged higher every time he hit her clitoris. She figured he would be able to go for a long, long time, because of his two earlier cummings. She prayed she would have the stamina to take advantage of it.
The bed squeaked and groaned as he hammered into her again and again. The insides of her thighs began to feel as raw and sore as her tail had after the spanking. She humped her pelvis madly, and her pleasure grew and grew and grew. His finger touched her asshole, and she wailed with excitement. She felt him twisting into the tight ring of muscle, and yelled deliriously. It felt so good!
She was cumming. It was a flaring, fuckering, gushing climax that went on and one. It climbed higher and higher as he drilled his finger into her asshole and pistoned his dick in her cunt. She clutched at his butt, sought his crapper with her finger. As she orgasmed, she returned his favor, drove her finger slowly into his shitty depths. She felt his prostate spasm, felt his dick leap. Then, his cock rammed full depth into her, he froze. His dick pumped and jerked. She wondered vaguely if there was any jizz left for her cunt, but didn't really care. Her own cumming crested in a glittering fireball that tumbled her down into delicious exhaustion and blackness.
She felt wonderfully, satisfyingly abused as she fell asleep. His lowly-shrinking cock was still in her sodden hole.
Chapter Six
Clara stared out the dorm window. Below, a couple walked arm in arm through the pool of light cast by one of the street lamps. Clara wondered what it was like to be comfortably in love, wondered if she ever could be, or would be.
She wondered if a simple, straight-forward fuck would ever bring her satisfaction. The blazing ecstasy she had felt when Wil had bound her with neckties was still fresh in her mind. And there was also the gang rape she had experienced at Hemlock House.
It was awful the way her pussy steamed up when she just thought about what she had done. She was dominated by her unholy sexual desires.
What if she couldn't find satisfaction in a normal relationship? What if she was doomed to go through life a slave to her perverted lusts?
The idea horrified her. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.
A surge of restlessness drove her up out of the chair. Going over to the closet, she yanked out a coat and put it on. Without even bothering with her purse, she stamped out, and down the hall.
Outside, the cool night air washed over her. Sucking in a deep breath, she tossed her head, tried to shake the knots out of her mind. The night beckoned. She struck off across campus, not paying any attention to where she was going.
And still her mind ran down the same depressing paths. What if the only satisfaction she could find involved bondage and humiliation?
The thought made her gut knot with fear. She had to prove it was false. She wasn't sick. She wasn't a pervert. She would prove it.
But how? With Wil? She couldn't do that. She had gone down a one-way road with him. And besides, she had tried it the other way with him before, and there had been no satisfaction.
She looked up and realized she had unconsciously chosen the path to the library. Behind the glowing windows she could see a few students grinding away. She wondered how many of them had heard about what she had done at Hemlock House. She had seen the speculative looks people have been giving her, and knew that the story must be out.
"Hi, Clara," someone greeted her casually as he headed for the parking lot.
"Hi," she answered vaguely. Then she placed him, and turned. "Hi!" she said eagerly. She didn't know his name, but his face was familiar.
"Can I give you a lift somewhere?" he asked, unlocking the door of his car.
How could she prove she wasn't a helpless victim of her own sick desires? Suddenly, she knew. "Where are you headed?" she asked while she searched frantically for his name. Red hair and freckles, blue eyes, glasses, a grind . . Larry!
"Back to my room," he answered.
She wondered if he had heard about her performance at Hemlock House. "I was just out for a walk. Why don't we go for a drive or something?"
"Oh. Uh, okay," he agreed, puzzled.
Once in the car, Clara leaned against the passenger side door and eyed him speculatively. Hunger was a growing knot of fire in her belly. She was afraid he would reject her.
"Where to?" he asked.
"Anywhere." Where could they go? She was only a freshman and didn't know the private places, the area make-out roads. She cursed herself for not dating students more.
"Want a pizza?" Larry asked. He evidently suspected what she was leading up to, but didn't want to take it for granted.
"No," she answered. Her voice was soft and husky. Suddenly she was glad she had on a skirt and blouse instead of her usual jeans. "Let's just go someplace.. . quiet. Where we can talk."
"Talk?" Larry croaked. "Okay."
The way he said it made her afraid he thought she really did mean talk. Her chest tight, she toyed with the buttons on her blouse. She didn't want him to make any mistake about what she wanted. Her loafers thumped to the floor of the car. She slid one foot across the seat and gently rubbed her toes along his thigh. He shot her a tense glance. She released the first button of her blouse.
She leaned back against the hard knob of the window crank. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples burned as they rose and fell against her blouse. She undid another button, and another. Soon, her blouse was open to the waist.
"Turn the heat up," she urged softly. Then she gave him a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts as she writhed out of her coat. She threw it casually into the back seat. His hand shook as he leaned forward and adjusted the heater. The fan blew gusts of warm air around her, stirred her soft hair.
When she slid over next to him, her skirt rode up high on her thighs. She tucked herself against him and slouched low as his arm went around her shoulder. She nuzzled her head against him, then reached up and gripped his fingers with her right hand. She put her left on his thigh.
He gulped. "Are you sure?" he gasped.
She eased his fingers down to the soft swelling of her breast. He fingered her nipple through the loose cloth. "I'm sure," she answered. "I've had my eye on you for a long time," she lied easily.
His fingers pinched the nubbin of her tit, made hot sparks flare through her. When he began to push her blouse aside, her chest tightened and her pussy clenched. She let her fingers trickle up to his cock. She inhaled sharply when she felt his shaft. It was enormous!
His fingers touched her bare nipple. She whimpered as flames lashed through her. She squeezed his monster cock through his pants. The car swerved on the dark road and he laughed nervously. "Watch it, or you'll kill us before we get there."
"Drive: carefully," Clara urged softly. She found his zipper and eased it down. He squirmed and wriggled as she dug for his dick. Her fingers closed around the rock-hard shaft and levered it out of his fly. It felt like a telephone pole! His fingers clamped down on her naked breast. She moaned delightedly.
She wanted, suddenly, to be naked. The little that she had on felt confining, suffocating. She tried to get out of her blouse without dislodging his hand from her breast, or hers from his dick. He sensed that she wanted and released her tit just long enough to help her out of the right sleeve. Desperately, she let go of his pecker and shed the blouse. It fell into a rumpled tangle behind her. The lights of an oncoming car swept over her bared chest, picked out the pale globes and the perky points.
She humbled with the zipper of her skirt, then shoved it and her panties down. They wound up on the floor of the car. She was naked. She curled her hand around his cock again and let him fondle her naked breasts. She felt pussy juice drying on her cunt lips as warm air from the heater blew up her naked thighs. She slid her right leg out to the side and straightened it, opened her snatch to the hot gusts from the heater. Then she reached up over head and fumbled for the switch to the light.
Suddenly, she was bathed in a yellow glow.
Exposed and naked and wanton, she lounged beside Larry as he drove through the night. Cars swept towards them, bathed, her with their headlights, then blazed past. She pumped her fist on his mammoth cock, coated her palm and fingers with his juices.
"How long?" she asked desperately.
"Few minutes," he grunted, flicking the turn indicator and steering the car off onto a narrow back road.
"Hurry," she urged, squeezing his cock. Then, twisting, she squirmed down and drew the Throbbing knob of his dark into her hot mouth. She bathed his thrusting shaft with her tongue. As he pinched her breasts, then slid his hand down to her ass, she began humping her hips gently.
She remembered getting cock up her butt as Hemlock House and thought of taking Larry's mammoth tool up that same tight road. She recoiled with terror. She wouldn't dare even try! Would she?
She smothered that thought by stuffing herself with cock, squirming it to the back of her mouth. She gagged. The car lurched, swerved around a turn, and she found that she had swallowed the head of his prick! Her stomach heaved. She choked and backed off.
"Sonofabitch" tarry groaned as his cock suddenly erupted in her mouth. The unexpected fountaining caught her off guard, flooded her mouth before she could swallow. For a moment she was drowning in goo. She sucked and swallowed frantically as he spouted.
"Awwww, shit!" Larry cursed as his balls pulsed their load into her slurping mouth.
Clara fondled his spouting dick and caressed his pulsing balls. As she savored his salty jizz, her guts coiled with the knowledge that this could turn out to be a good thing, rather than a disappointment.
When the car slammed to a halt in the darkness, she barely managed to avoid biting his jutting dong. Carefully, while he panted, tried to catch his breath, she licked off the last creamy drizzles of cum.
Then, still holding his shrinking dick in her hand, she came up for air.
"Jesus, I'm sorry," Larry moaned miserably. "That caught me totally by surprise. I guess.. . I guess it's been too long since I've had a girl," he said sadly.
Clara gave his shrunken dick a squeeze and asked, "Have you ever had a girl?"
"Yeah!" he retorted, insulted. "Once," he added softly. "I'm not like you. I'm kind of inhibited."
Clara wasn't sure it was a bad thing, but didn't argue the point. "You heard?"
"Heard? About what?" Larry asked.
Clara decided he'd find out about the gang bang soon enough. "Nothing. What makes you think I'm not inhibited?"
"Well, stripping naked while we're driving through town is hardly inhibited."
"I guess not. And I'm still naked, aren't I?"
"Uh, yeah," Larry agreed.
"Why don't you strip, too?" she asked, watching his dick. It was beginning to show signs of life.
When he hesitated, she pointed out gently that she had already seen the really important part. There were a few moments of elbow-bumping awkwardness, and a jarring toot from the horn when he inadvertently leaned on the steering wheel. Then he was as naked as she was.
For a few tantalizing minutes, Clara kept away from him. She let him study her soft curves, her brown muff, the stiff points of her tits. Then, she began fingering her pussy. Spreading her smooth thighs, she slid a finger into her slippery hole. His cock responded gratifyingly by thrusting upward eagerly. It looked like it was a foot long!
Reaching out, she brushed the purple cap with her fingers. "Pretty big," she noted softly.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"Too bad it's so cold," Clara noted.
"How come?"
"If it was warmer, we could go outside."
"We could move into the back seat."
"That's a good idea." She got up and started to climb into the back. She turned away from, waved her lush ass in his face. Then she eased one leg over so she was straddling the back of the seat. She knew she was giving him an unparalleled view of her cunt and her asshole.
When she paused, as if searching for a place to put her foot, he cupped his hands under her ass. When she gave him an encouraging smile over her shoulder, his fingers slid into her hot depths. With a delighted chuckle, she humped, told him to explore her slippery tunnel.
Then she rolled gracefully the rest of the way over. She stretched out on her back on the back seat, and put one foot on the floor. She braced the other against the rear window. Her crotch gaped wide, beckoned him.
He scrambled over. And then he was with her, crouching on the floor beside her, feasting his eyes on her incredible, wanton display. He leaned forward. His mouth found one of her tits as she tangled her fingers in his red hair. His teeth cut into her tender flesh as he sucked on her pert bud. Flames raged through her.
He moved from one tit to the other, got them both spit-slick. Her cunt was simmering. She thought of his monster prick jamming into her hole, and knew that if she couldn't find satisfaction with his monster tool, she was surely doomed to the perverse drives she feared so much.
His tongue flicked her nipples, first one, then the other. She moaned and guided his head from one aching tit to the other. Then, slowly, she forced his head down, down toward her gaping cunt. He didn't resist at all. Actually, he seemed eager to comply. His mouth sucked and nibbled along her soft tummy. His tongue probed her belly button, and she sucked in her gut. Then he continued lower, and lower. She felt his breath on her pussy. When his tongue combed through her soft fuzz, her hips heaved eagerly.
Then his mouth fastened on her twat and a geyser of flame roared through her. His tongue found her seething cunt and drilled into it. His nose was grinding her clit as he probed his tongue into her slippery tunnel.
It was heaven! But it wasn't what she needed so desperately. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she shoved his head away from her pussy and dragged his mouth up to hers. Her tongue raped his mouth, tasted his spit and her own juices. She tugged him in between her gaping thighs. As the dome light shone down on her face, he settled himself between her legs. His cock ground against her pussy hair. Then the head of it slipped into her slit and started in search of her hole. A squirm of her hips and she felt it nuzzle her gate.
He thrusted. She felt like she was being torn in two by the monster invader. Reaching down, she clutched his ass, urged him deeper. His cock plunged its way into her slick depths. She felt every ripple in her cunt walls being stretched by his monster bulk. She felt his shaft drive deeper and deeper and deeper. It seemed like there was no end to his monster rod. She spread her legs wider and felt the head of his wang hit the end of her hole. Then he actually stretched her twat lengthwise, drove his whole tool into her tunnel.
It was like she was being gutted by a dull javelin. She lay under him and willed him to run her through with his monster dark. She felt her cunt stretch and stretch until she was sure she was going to tear.
"Gaawwd," she moaned.
"Shit, you're hot and light," he grunted.
"Fuck me," she urged, clawing at his back. "Fuck me dl you come out my mouth!"
He tied. He pistoned in her, in and out, in and out, a carnal machine in her cunt.
He drove at her forever. She was sure that this time, with his tool, she would cum. And since he had spurted into her mouth she was sure he would have the staying power to ravage her beyond belief, to drive her to orgasm after orgasm.
She reached a high point, and hovered there. She couldn't get any higher. His cock pumped in her cunt and pounded her clit to a pulp. It was good, ecstatically good: except for one thing.
She wasn't cumming. And she wasn't going to cum. She fought her tears of shame and fear and horror. The coupling went on and on and on, but there was no release for her.
She clutched him, and remembered the pool table, remembered the endless series of cocks. She began to edge toward her peak. She remembered being rolled over, remembered the rail grinding into her belly, and edged a little closer to her cumming. Then, as Larry pistoned his mammoth prick in her cunt, she remembered the rape of her asshole. And reached the glittering, geysering peak of pleasure. While Larry's cock fucked her numb, she climaxed from the memory of the gang rape. Now she knew what it took to make her cum. She felt Larry's cock spurting in her stretched depths, felt his cream hit the end of her cunt. She moaned as her orgasm raged through her. Desperately, she clung to the man between her thighs.
She thought of being bound and gagged and ravished, and her cumming flared up one more time.
Chapter Seven
Clara was bound spread-eagle on Wil's bed. Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the door. Wil frowned and finished pouring his drink. He was stripped to the waist. His torso was trim and hard. The lump of his cock was impressive even though he was wearing tight jeans.
"Who the hell is that?" he mused when the knocking was repeated.
Clan's gut knotted as she watched him walk toward the door. She was nude and totally exposed and totally helpless. She tested the ropes that held her wrists and ankles. This week Wil had been better prepared. When she had arrived, the first thing she had noticed was the rope. In addition to the four short lengths on the bed, there was a long coil on the wall.
One drink and she had stripped as ordered, and let him tie her. She had wanted him to dominate her, and now he was. She did as she was ordered. If she argued, it earned her a beating. She was content.
She lay stretched out on the bed with her legs spread. The air dried her juice as fast as it seeped from her slit. Wil had stripped to the waist, and then puttered around the room. Her helpless excitement had grown steadily as she wondered when he would do more than just sweep her naked display with his eyes.
She knew he was carefully building her anticipation. He was torturing her, making her wait.
Now he was at the door. He was probably looking through the peephole. If he let whoever it was in, there was no way she could cover herself.
She heard the lock click open. Instantly, her cunt knotted with lust and her gut knotted with fear. He was letting whoever it was in! Was some stranger going to witness her wanton degradation? The thought made her insides coil into a tight swirl of horniness. She writhed against the bonds holding her wrists and ankles.
"Well, hello there," Grant said. His eyes played insolently over her naked display. They lingered on the ropes, on her aroused tits, and on her cunt.
"Hi. Uh, forgive me for not getting up."
"Sure Thing!" He reached down and stroked one breast with insolent casualness. "Very nice."
"Care for a drink?" Wil asked Grant calmly.
"He makes great whiskey sours," Clara said huskily.
"A sour would be fine," Grant said, sliding his hand down to Clara's tight gut. Her flesh was crawling with horror and horniness. His fingers probed her pussy, slithered between her labes, explored her sopping, slippery folds. "Man, is she hot!" he reported to Wil.
"Is she? I hadn't checked," Wil responded casually, handing Grant a glass.
"Check it out," Grant offered.
Clara lay there helplessly as the two men discussed her. Wil's hand replaced Grant's on her pussy and probed rudely into her juicy snatch. She moaned as he fingered her clit, then the slithery inner lips. His finger slipped into her cunt, tested the wetness of her hole.
"Sopping," Wil agreed. He withdrew his hand from her muff and held it an inch from her nose. "See how wet you are, Clara?"
"Yes," Clara choked out huskily.
"Smell it!" he coated the tip of her nose, then her upper lip, with slime. She couldn't avoid the smell. It made her gut knot with excitement.
"Where's Lois?" Wil asked. His hand was still in front of Clara's nose.
"On her way here," Grant answered.
"Lick it off," Wil ordered.
Her stomach rolling with disgust at her eagerness, Clan obeyed, licked her cunt juice off his hand. The taste brought a fresh flood from her pussy.
"Horny bitch, isn't she," Grant mused, staring down at her. She met his gaze defiantly. But then the defiance melted into horny longing, and she writhed with need.
"Properly treated she is," Wil answered.
"There's Lois," Grant noted as the buzzer in his apartment sounded faintly. "Where's your door button?"
"By the kitchen," Wil answered.
Clara strained stupidly at the ropes as Grant pushed the button and let Lois into the building. The thought of having Lois witness her bondage made Clara's gut tighten further, made her pussy spasm hungrily.
Lois came into the apartment, caught sight of Clara roped to the bed, and grinned. "Boy, that looks like fun!"
Clara squirmed feebly.
"Have you tried blindfolding her?" Lois asked Wit
"Not yet," Wil answered. "Get raped today?" Lois was wearing her outrageous tee shirt and short skirt outfit, in spite of the chilly drizzle. The shirt was posted to her lush breasts.
"Not today. Gosh, I wish I was like that." She gazed longingly at Clara.
"Care to take my place?" Clara said in a choked voice, not sure if she meant it or not. She felt humiliated, but was enjoying the humiliation.
"Gosh, it's awful nice of you to offer. But you were here first, after all."
"Why don't we have some fun with the two of them?" Grant suggested.
"How?" Wil asked, intrigued.
Clara's cunt twitched with fear. Grant's ideas of fun were pretty extreme.
"Lois will do anything I tell her to," Grant noted. "Won't you, baby?"
"Sure, Grant. But right now I'm thirsty. Can I have a drink?"
"Get naked, baby," Grant ordered. "Then you can have a drink."
In seconds, Lois a naked. Clam sucked in her breath when she saw Lois' tightly erotic body, the great globular breasts on her dainty frame. Her long, pale blond ponytail hung down to her ass.
"Where's my drink?" Lois asked. Clara felt a flash of anger at the way Wil was staring at Lois.
"Right there," Grant answered, pointing. "Right between those legs."
Clara wondered what Grant meant. For Lois to suck him oft?
"She's as wet as a swamp," Grant said. "And you're thirsty. So go get a drink."
Clara felt a surge of horror and disgust and lust. She wasn't unfamiliar with the act, there had been discussions of lesbianism since she had been in high school. She even knew some of the girls who had fried it. But she had always shied away from it because she thought it was perverted. Wil had never eaten her, never shown any interest in it, even.
"Me? There?" Lois asked, pointing at Clara's crotch. Her tits were rigid with excitement.
"Right, baby. And after you're done drinking, we'll give Clara some refreshment." Grant chuckled.
"Do I have to?" Lois asked.
"Yes," Grant answered firmly.
"No, please," Clara whimpered, writhing against the ropes.
"Well! Just how do you think you're going to avoid it?" Wil asked, a hint of cruelty in his voice.
"Please, Wil, not that," Clara pleaded.
"That, and more. That's the whole point, isn't it? You're helpless. You've got no choice in the matter. It's too damn bad, but you'll just have to endure whatever perversions I decide on."
Clara felt sick, but knew he was right. She could do all the forbidden, awful things, with no guilt. Because, after all, what else could she do? She was helpless.
She thought of another woman's mouth probing and sucking and lapping at her and writhed with horniness. She thought of plowing through Lois' blonde snatch with her own tongue, and her excitement welled higher. Her stomach knotted with revulsion.
Lois, whether she had ever done it before or not, seemed ready. She stood over Clara and studied Clara's stretched, lush body, her fuzzy brown muff, her sleek legs. Clara writhed, saw that she was the center of attention.
"Oh, God," she whimpered, lifting her head as Lois joined her on the bed. She looked down the taut length of her body as the sexy blonde knelt between her gaping thighs. Lois' hands touched Clara's tight gut. Clara flinched and heaved involuntarily.
Lois slid her hands slowly down toward Clara's crotch. Clara moaned and writhed as flames lashed through her. Her Nat was flooding in anticipation.
She wondered if she would cum. She prayed she would, and hoped she wouldn't, because cuming would reveal a hideous facet of her sexual character she hadn't even suspected existed.
She lifted her head again as Lois' fingers parted her cunt. Her neck aching, she watched Lois' blonde head draw closer and closer to her groin. Lois' eyes were gleaming with excitement as she spread Clara's labia, let chill air cut into her pussy folds.
Lois flicked Clara's clit, and Clara's body convulsed. Her head flopped back on the bed as searing flames ripped through her. Clara gazed longingly, desperately, at Wil, begged him to release her from this misery/ecstasy. He ignored her and watched hungrily as Lois' mouth neared Clara's cunt.
Lois' breath burned Clara's pussy. Clan moaned. Her cunt spasmed stupidly as Lois blew on the exposed petals of aroused meat. Clara's thighs were jumping and twitching involuntarily. She tugged mindlessly on the ropes around her wrists. The harsh ceiling light hurt her eyes, and revealed all her secrets to the watching men.
Something hot, and moist, and delicate touched her cunt. Clara bucked violently. She let out a desperate "nooo" as the hot worm stroked her petaled folds, upwards, toward the nubbin of her but.
Lois' tongue touched Clara's cit. It felt like a hot electric wire had touched her. She thrashed and heaved as flames lashed through her. Then she gave up. Her head rolling from side to side, she abandoned herself to the searing ecstasy.
Lois slipped her hands under Clara's ass and her mouth and tongue became bolder, more confident, as they explored Clara's slippery gash. Clara felt Lois probe deep into the flowing tunnel of her cunt, felt Lois' tongue wiggle deep into her hole. It felt like a live animal was burrowing into her. Clara felt her cunt spasm.
When Lois abandoned her honey hole, Clara whined with frustration. Then Lois' mouth damped down on her clit, and Clara thought she was going to tear her arms out of their sockets as she strained against the ropes binding her to the protesting bed. Lois sank strong fingers into Clara's ass as she sucked as Clara's cit.
Clara felt as if her clit was being ripped out by the roots. Then Lois began battering the little nubbin with her tongue. Every stroke sent a wave of ecstasy blazing along Clara's nerve paths. Her hips heaved and humped in a flicking motion as Lois tongued her nerve bundle. Then Lois dug her jaw into Clara's cunt, and sucked and tongued the aroused bump.
Clara began cumming. Thrashing blindly against the ropes, she felt fire slash through her, batter and tear her naked flesh. She gargled at the ceiling and at the watching men. Her cumming had destroyed the last shreds of her inhibitions.
Clara felt a burning, searing finger drive up into her butt. Her rectum spasmed orgasmically, her cunt convulsed around nothingness. Her clit was reduced to a glowing puddle by Lois' busy mouth and tongue. The room whirled around Clan as her cumming crested, and left her flopping like a fish out of water.
It was a long time before Clara realized that Lois had at last abandoned her cunt. Her guts a solid ache, Clara came back to awareness of her surroundings. She looked at Wil's grinning face and his jutting hard-on. Wil had stripped off his pants sometime during the past eternity of pleasure. His cock stood out lewdly, and he leered down at her.
"Wil?" Clara whimpered.
"Loved it, didn't you?" he asked.
"Oh, God, yes."
"Now me," Lois urged in a horny whisper.
"No, please," Clara pleaded.
"It's only fair," Wil pointed out. "And besides, what choice do you have?"
Clara looked at Lois as the blonde moved upwards, her pussy spread wide. Qua really did want to do it. She wanted to taste those juicy folds, to probe Lois' hole the way Lois had probed hers, to suckle on Lois' clit until Lois was wracked with muscle-wrenching convulsions.
And as Wil had said, what choice did she have?
Lois eased her legs over Clara's arms, pinned Clara's shoulders to the bed. Lois' blonde Nat was inches from Clara's chin. Clara could smell Lois' musky scent.
Lois eased her pussy toward Clara's waiting mouth. Clara turned her head away in disgust. Then, curiosity and wantonness overcame her inhibitions, and she reached her tongue up toward the fur-fringed gash of Lois' twat. She felt Lois' fuzzy blonde curls on her tongue, then warm flesh. Clara inhaled, sucked in a lungful of Lois' sexy smell. Then Clara wriggled her tongue between Lois' soft labia, and tasted the seepings on the soft, slippery, inner folds. She had a striking view of Lois' impressive torso. Her jutting breasts were quivering as she breathed raggedly.
lifting her head, Clara wriggled her face into the furry nest, probed deeper with her tongue, stroked the petals of the inner labes, searched for the funnel, tunnel of Lois' cunt. Her nose in the soft nest, Clara dug deep into Lois' vagina. The invasion was greeted with a flood of slippery juices and the thick smell of lust. Clara wiggled her tongue farther and farther into the rippled tunnel, reached for the dripping depths. When Clara battered the slimy walls of Lois' hole with her tongue, Lois sucked in a great, shakey breath of air. Her face was a study in wanton depravity as she gazed down.
Clara gulped and swallowed wave after wave of woman-cum. She was inhaling through the sodden, muffling mass of Lois' pussy flesh. Her own cunt was simmering with horniness.
Then she tore her mouth away from Lois' honey hole, and groped for the nubbin of her cit. As Clara nibbled her way up Lois' slit, Lois eased her cunt down. In seconds, Clara found the hooded bump. Carefully, she tongued the squirmy button around. Lois moaned and her fingers tangled in Clara's hair. Lois hauled Clara's face against her crotch, hard, ground Clara's nose against her pubic arch. Clara clamped her lips around Lois' clit, and sucked, dragged on the button and the surrounding folds of sensitive tissue. Then Clara began flicking her tongue back and forth over the tip of the swollen bud. Lois reacted with a wail of ecstasy that made her pussy shiver with horniness.
Clara abandoned herself to suckling on Lois' clitoris, and to bringing the other woman off. Clara's hips heaved and rolled as she sucked and tongued Lois' cit. Then Lois was humping against her face, blindly, madly. Wailing and moaning, she drove her twat down on Clara until Clara's head was pressed deep into the mattress. It was as if Lois was trying to drive Clara's head up into her cunt.
Clara was smothering! She wan drowning in Lois' flood, and being suffocated by the sopping folds of her twat. Clara's eyes began to sparkle, then everything began to turn gray, and then black. As she fought for breath, everything was forgotten but the struggle for survival.
She came to when Lois tumbled aside, or was dragged off. She could feel Lois' juices drying on her cheeks and chin. Her lips felt bruised and swollen. She looked blurrily at the rest of the room.
She was horrified by what she saw. Lois was with Wil! He was fondling her breasts, probing the pussy that Clara had so recently devoured. He was watching Clara as he did it, waiting for her reaction.
"Wil." Clara moaned.
"Not a damn thing you can do about it," he taunted.
"Please, Wil," Clara moaned. Jealousy raged through her as Lois wantonly presented her lush, aroused nakedness to Wil. Facing Clara, with Wil behind her, Lois guided his hand to her snatch, put his linger in her sodden slit. She spread her thighs, forced Clara to watch Wil hook his finger deep into her oozing gash.
"I'm going to fuck her," Wil told Clara. "Grant gave her to me to fuck. And you're going to watch."'
"No, Wil. Please!"
"That's what a slave is," Wil went on. "A helpless possession to be loaned or given away. Or swapped."
"Swapped?" Clara glanced at Grant. He was sitting back in an easy chair. His cock swollen and throbbing, he savored his drink and the impending action.
Wil chuckled and pumped his finger in Lois' crotch. "Sure. You don't think Grant would let me have Lois for nothing, do you?"
"No," Clara whispered, straining against the ropes.
"He gets you," Wil said softly. "After I've finished with Lois, that is. I'm looking forward to watching him drive that thick cock of his into you.
Clara cringed with horror at the idea. She also felt a surge of lust. She was Wil's, and Wil could do what he wanted with her. She looked at Grant again, and thought of that mammoth tool of his jamming into her. Her cunt began to steam with hunger.
It was wrong. She was Wil's. But she was also helpless.
Lois was down on her hands and knees now. Clara could see the sodden folds of Lois' blonde pussy. The same pussy that Clara had just tongued. Wil bent his dick into the soft nest, and slowly sank his shaft into Lois' hole. Clara's pussy spasmed with hunger as she watched the dick she knew so well drill into the pussy she knew so well. She could almost feel the penetration as Wil's pecker drove into Lois' belly.
Clara struggled mindlessly against the ropes. She wanted to be in Lois' place, to feel the towering shaft in her own twat. But all she could do was watch.
Wil drove full depth, and clutched Lois' tiny waist. His belly pressed against her tight, white ass. Then he glanced over at Clara.
"Hot," he announced. "It's hot and wet."
"God that feels good," Lois moaned. Clara heaved against the ropes as jealousy ripped through her.
"Fuck me, Wil," Lois begged. "Fuck me while she watches."
Wil drew his dick out and rammed it back into her blonde snatch. Clara felt as if her guts were being shredded. As she watched in agony, her cunt spumed hungrily around emptiness. How could she want to fuck after the cumming she had just felt? It didn't matter. She wanted cock, Wil's cock. But he was gleefully delivering his meat to Lois, ramming her with loud, soggy smacks. Her breasts jiggled and swayed each time he hit her tail.
He reached around under her, and Clara knew he was digging into her cunt, fiddling with the clit that she had just sucked. Clara bucked against the ropes as Lois moaned with pleasure, and rocked her pelvis ecstatically. Wil grabbed Lois' heavy tits, dug his fingers into their softness. He backed out and pumped into her, again and again and again. The sight of his dick emerging, glistening and dripping with her juices, and then disappearing back in, made Clara's insides knot with frustration and jealousy and envy and horniness.
"I'm going to cum, Clara," Wil told her in his hips pounded against Lois. "Going to cum in her like a geyser. Cum I've been saving all week for you, she's going to get."
Exhausted, Clara wriggled feebly against the ropes. She wanted to shut her eyes and her mind to what Wil was doing, but couldn't. Some hideous demon down in her guts forced her to watch Wil's pecker piston in Lois.
Wil rammed into Lois hard, backed out, then rammed into her again. His balls knotted up against his dick base and his tight buttocks spasmed. Clara knew he was emptying his cream into Lois in quick, hot bursts.
"I feel it," Lois groaned. "Awww, jeezzz it feels great! God that was good!"
Clara's cunt spasmed in frustration as a thick, gooey wave of Wil's jizz oozed out of Lois' tunnel. It dribbled thickly down his balls and pattered to the carpet.
Wil cased back, and his dick flopped out of Lois. Clara licked her dry lips. Wil glanced over at her.
He was enjoying her misery, gloating over it. "Give Clara the cum," Wil ordered.
"What?" Lois asked, still half-dazed from her cumming.
"She wants what I gave you. So, let her have it." Wil chuckled wickedly. "Grant'll get his chance at her in a minute. Give her a drink first."
"Yeah," Lois said hotly.
"Noooo," Clara moaned, rolling her head in denial.
Her pelvis carefully angled up so the cum pooled in her couldn't spill out, Lois crawled over to the bed. She kept her vagina tilted to hold every creamy drop until her bush was over Clara's face. Once again, Clara found herself staring up into Lois' blonde muff. This time there was a crimson flush to the labes, from the pounding of Wil's cock. Pearly drops of Wil's jizz clung to the hairs.
Watching carefully, Lois lowered her Nat on to Clara's mouth. Then, just as carefully, she sat up. The cum Wil had dumped in her hot hole spilled down over Clara's lips.
In spite of her aversion, Claris mouth opened to accept the flood. Eagerly, her tongue reached for the pearly stream. Her lips puckered, sucked in the thick fluid as it poured out of Lois. Clara savored Wil's sex juice as if it was fine wine. While he and Grant watched, she lifted her head and sucked and slurped shamelessly at Lois' dripping pussy.
Then, at last it was all gone, and Lois eased off Clara let her head drop back. Her stomach churned as she tried to catch her breath.
Suddenly, something crashed down on her. A cock slammed against her cunt, found her hole, and rammed deep into her. There had been no warning at all. It was brutal rape. Her body responded with a bucking heave, welcomed the burning dick into her sodden depths. At last she had a cock! Her cunt, after being kept empty for so long, was stuffed. Her entire body reacted with animal gusto.
Grant was clutching her, reaching for her ass, digging in between her tail cheeks. His fingers dug at her asshole, tore at it until she screamed with pain. Then she felt him pry two fingers into her shitter. She yanked and heaved against the ropes that kept her from tearing at his back. Her hips writhed and jerked and bucked. She began to own. Wailing with pleasure, her mouth still thick with Lois' and Wil's cream, Clara became a glittering fireball. She felt the cock in her cunt begin to twitch.
She knew now that there was absolutely nothing in the world she wouldn't do, if Wil ordered it. And she would love it. She would love it. She was his slave.
Chapter Eight
"Lois is having a party?" Clara asked excitedly. "A coming out party," Wil answered. "For her, and you."
"We're hardly the debutante type," Clam pointed out as she followed him out of the apartment.
"Uh, how many people are going to be there?"
"I don't know. More than just the four of us. I think the usual ratio is three escorts for each deb."
"Who. . . are the other men?" she asked.
"You'll see."
"A debutante party," Clara mused. "So that's why I'm dressed like this." Wil had specified a formal, the one she had worn to her high school prom, when she had lost her virginity. She wondered if there was any particular significance to that.
"Are there any other debs besides Lois and me?" she asked.
"No, but there will be other girls."
"Now, no more questions," Wil ordered curtly as they reached the subway.
The ride downtown seemed to take forever. Clara felt exquisitely conspicuous in the strapless formal, since Wil was wearing casual clothes. He had refused to let her wear a coat. As a result, she was aware of every passing breeze, every glance at her creamy shoulders and throat.
The dress had been a little small when she had first worn it the year before. Now, her more fully developed breasts bulged up from the cups. She had three crinoline petticoats on under the full, knee-length skirt. She sat very straight, intensely aware of the curious stares she was getting. She twisted her white-gloved hands in her lap as the train rattled through the black tunnel.
"Come on," Wil ordered, hurrying her up the stain of the Fourth Street Station and out under the theater marquee on Sixth Avenue.
"Are we late?" Clara, skipping nervously along. The chill wind was cutting her exposed flesh, seeking up under the full skirt, brushing her panty-less pussy intimately.
Wil glanced at his watch. "We're right on time." At Lois' door Clara fidgeted nervously, and realized she needed to use the toilet. The door opened at last, and Lois dragged her inside, past Grant. Clara had a few final moments of peace and quiet as she used the toilet. Then, stripping off her gloves, she rejoined the others in the living room. From the closed door of the big studio came the muffled sound of laughter and music.
Lois too was wearing a strapless formal. Hers was a dramatic jet black. It was the perfect foil for her pale blonde beauty. Her hair was coiled up on her head and pinned with onyx and silver needles. The cups of the dress pressed her full, round breasts in and up, produced an exciting cleavage.
"You ready?" Lois asked.
Clan nodded tensely.
The studio, with its wall of mirrors, slanted windows and ballet bar, was dim and mysterious. All the people were strangers. They were all casually dressed. Along the wall with the mirrors and ballet bar stood the remains of a buffet. Obviously, it had not been intended for her.
Two pieces of rough cut lumber, each about five feet long and four inches square, hung vertically from chains in the ceiling. The bottom ends were about two feet from the floor and were anchored by similar chains.
Fascinated, Clara stared at the spot-lighted lumber. Because she and Lois were the only ones formally dressed, they stood out just as the lighted wood did.
"No drink," Clara said when Wil offered her a brimming glass.
"You'll need it," he said.
Clara shook her head tensely as fear knotted her throat. "No drink." Whatever she faced, she wanted to face it stone cold sober. She wasn't sure whether it was because she didn't want to miss anything, or as an experiment.
Two men broke away from the crowd and flanked her. She saw two other men join Lois. She cast a lingering, defiant, fearful glance at Wil as she was led away from him, toward a spot-lighted pillar.
At the columns, she and Lois were turned to face the rest of the gathering. The men took her hands, drew them behind her. She felt the rough splintery wood between her wrists. As her shoulders were drawn back, she felt the overhead spotlight spilling down on the exposed slopes of her breasts. Had they used a sun lamp?
She felt rough, harsh loops of rope binding her wrists. In seconds she was helpless. The column of wood was between her back and her bound wrists. Turning her head, she looked over at Lois. Her eyes were glittering with excitement. Her lush body was drawn taut. Her tits were almost falling out of the small bod ice of her gown.
Then Clara turned to study the audience. Everyone seemed to be commenting on her and Lois. Clara's pussy began steaming just from having her wrists bound. Pear gnawed away at her guts, fed her lust.
Grant nodded curtly toward Lois. Her two escorts reached between her and the post, and unzipped her dress. Pushed by the impatient thrust of her jutting breasts, the bodice surged outward.
Lois was as naked under her formal as Clara was. In a moment the dress crumpled around for her feet and the spotlight caressed her lush, creamy curves. Lois made no attempt to shield her body from the audience, not that she could have. Her full breasts rose and fell excitingly as she breathed.
Clara's chest felt like it was wound in steel cables. Lois was staring at the watching crowd. When Clara's escorts reached for the zipper of her white, virginal gown, Clara, too, turned her attention to the guests.
She didn't flinch as the zipper was edged down to the curve of her ass. She didn't look as the bodice fell away from her tits. Cool air brushed her breasts, dried the tense fear-sweat in the valley. The dress was dragged down and her belly was exposed. Then her navel. Finally, the formal fell around her feet. Daintily, she lifted one foot and then the other, let them remove the dress. Then they pulled off the three petticoats, and she was naked.
She stood proud and straight as the watching crowd murmured, commented on the roundness of her breasts and bottom, the pink of her eager nipples, the hazy brown of her pussy.
A rope was slipped around under her arms, just above her breasts. It scraped harshly against her tender skin as it was slowly drawn tight. She was pulled back until she was pressed against the four by four. Then the rope was drawn tighter. It cut into her, rasped over her, burned her, ground her back against the rough, splintery column.
She looked over at Lois, and saw that she, too, was being cinched tight by a loop of rope. It was strung through a steel ring on the back of the column. The men each held a neatly coiled end.
They began to wrap Lois in rope. They wound it around her, owned it over her breasts. Clara watched as the harsh hemp cut into the lush, full mounds. The men criss-crossed the bindings, formed a rope bra for Lois as they bound her to the lumber. The end of the column dug into the top of her ass as she was lashed tight.
The men didn't stop until Lois was covered with loops, from her armpits to her lower belly. The ropes cut deep into her waist. Her head was pressed back against the post, and she was biting her lower lip.
The men finished, tied the ends to a second ring near the bottom of the post. When Lois shuddered, her belly tippled and her chest heaved against the unyielding coils. Her stiff, rigid nipples bulged out from between the amber hemp.
Clara felt the rope under her arms being yanked tight, and sucked in a desperate, fearful breath. Her consorts began winding the coils, began securing her to the wooden shaft. She didn't look down as the rope cut into her breasts. It angled from the top or one to the bottom of the other. Barely missing her blazing tits, it tore into the soft mounds. She inhaled sharply as the rope was pulled tight. Pressing her head back against the post, she let her lust boil upwards. She loved the pain and the helplessness and the humiliation, needed it to turn her on.
Coil after coil wound around her, dug into her, pound her back against the splintery four by four. She felt the end cut into the base of her spine.
Then, at last, they were knotting the ends behind her, and she shuddered on legs suddenly gone rubbery. She sagged gently, and felt the rope pull against her flesh, against her breasts and her armpits. She glanced down and saw her nipples protruding like little berries. She looked at Wil, and saw the hot desire in his eyes, the enjoyment of her helplessness, her torment. She wondered what would happen next.
When she looked over at Lois she found out. The blonde's attendants slipped a noose around her right ankle and fed the loose end through the ring near the bottom of the post. Slowly, they drew the length of rope tight. Lois was forced to balance on one foot as the other was hauled up behind her.
They didn't stop until her heel was against her ass. Her knee was spread outward by the tension, so her pussy was even more exposed than it had been. She teetered on one foot, and her belly and chest began to heave. Clara wondered jealously if Lois was cuming already.
A second loop was forced around Lois' other ankle. In a moment, both heels were drawn up tight against her ass and she was hanging from the four by four. Her thighs were spread wide. The shaft of wood began to turn towards Clan. Lois' red, aroused, inner cunt lips protruded from her blonde pussy.
A touch on her ankle made Clara flinch. She felt a coil of rope strangle her ankle, and braced herself as the end was drawn up behind her. She teetered precariously as her leg was pulled back until she was kicking her own ass. Then she was left without a leg to stand on. The rope cut into her as it took her weight. She heard the chain groan as the column began to turn slowly.
The combined helplessness, pain, immobility, and shame made Clara's eyes blur with tears, and her cunt drool with horniness. As she hung there, trussed up like a pig ready for slaughter, she felt her twat spasming and gushing. A raging cumming was ripping through her helpless body! She revolved slowly, felt cool air on her aroused pussy folds. She didn't care that her legs were spread wide, that everyone could see her gaping cunt.
Then she felt the men unsnapping the chain that anchored the post to the floor, and wondered what could be next. She began to swing very slowly, like a pendulum. She turned, and saw that Lois' post had also been unshackled. Then, as Clara rotated helplessly, she saw her two men release a rope from a cleat on the wall. Her post shivered, sank toward the floor.
Then, unbelievably, she felt herself begin to rise. The floor sank away beneath her as she was dragged toward the high ceiling. Something groaned ominously as she went up in a series of jerks. The post began to spin. She saw Lois rising beside her, an obscene chandelier of naked helplessness. Lois' mouth gaped open as they went higher and higher, closer and closer to the hot spot-lights that were bathing their naked bodies.
Clara was reduced to a quivering mass. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried not to look down. From below, the ceiling had looked about twenty feet high. Now, from her increasing altitude, she doubled her estimate, though she knew it wasn't possible.
"Oh, God," she moaned as she glanced up and saw the ceiling. It was less than two feet above her. The ropes dug into her, and she felt another orgasm raging through her.
"Clara?" Lois called softly.
"What?" Clara whispered, and squeezed her eyes hut.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh God, I am so scared," she whimpered, trying to clutch the post tighter. "And I love it so much I can't believe it."
"They'll lower us in just a minute," Lois assured her.
Clara kept her eyes closed against the incredible height. "I think I've cum six times already."
"Me, too," Lois answered. "But we haven't seen anything yet."
"You know what's going to happen?"
"Not all of it."
There was a yank on the rope, and Clara felt herself dropping. She screamed. The fall ended with a sudden jerk that felt like it was going to rip the ring out of the post. She heard a curse from Wil, and then she was being lowered slowly. She leaned forward and looked down.
A bench had been moved under Lois. A naked man, a stranger, was stretched out on it. His jutting cock stuck up toward the helpless woman.
A quick glance directly below confined that the same fate was awaiting Clara. She closed her eyes, and felt her cunt sizzle in anticipation.
As she was lowered down and down and down, she waited breathlessly. Then, it was there, the first touch on her pussy folds! For a tantalizing, frightening, stimulating instant she hung motionless Then she was lowered more, and was drilled by the jutting cock. She felt it slide deep into her swing hole, gutting and stuffing her. The only point of contact between her and terra firma was a hard-on that was jamming up into her steaming Nat.
"Awww" she moaned ecstatically as she was skewered by the towering cock.
The man screwing her gripped her waist and said something softly to the men controlling her. She rose a few inches and his dick slid out of her. Then he began to fuck her, to thrust his prick up into her streaming, gaping pussy. She soared to a raging, towering orgasm as his prick pistoned in her spasming cunt. She was nearly oblivious to his orgasm, to the hosing of her insides with sperm. Then he was gone, sliding out from under her. She swung like a pendulum as cum dripped slowly from her twat.
On an order from the next man, she was lowered nearly to the floor. He didn't tell them to stop until her knees were brushing the slick wood. His cock was right in line with her mouth! The sight of his jutting tool, a shining drop of arousal hanging from its tip, made her mouth and her pussy water. Knowing what was expected of her, she licked out, managed to barely brush his cock. She felt his juices film her tongue.
Then he eased his cock between her lips, and steadied her by gripping the shaft she was tied to. She felt his cock slide farther and farther into her mouth. Her gullet spasmed as she swallowed the waves of spit the invasion triggered. She stroked his pecker with her tongue as he fucked himself on her face by simply swinging her on the end of the chain.
She couldn't believe the sexual pleasure that was raging through her. This was her fate, her goal, her future: to be a helpless plaything. The ropes cutting into her body increased her already monumental lust. She wasn't able any more to separate one cumming from another. They blended together into a single flaring haze of unbelievable rapture.
The cock in her mouth began to spurt. Desperately, she tried to swallow the creamy gobs that were hosing her tongue and throat. He let her capture only the first few globs, then yanked his prick out of her gaping maw. She felt sperm spattering her cheeks and nose, pattering down on the protruding masses of her tits. The unexpected dousing made her lust rage even higher. He wiped his still-drizzling dick on her eyelids, her cheeks, and her nose. He left her whole face sticky and crusty with jizz.
As she hung there, Clara had the feeling she was being slowly pinched to a pulp by the harsh windings around her body. Her legs were on fire from being folded back for so long. The center of her spine felt like it had been rubbed raw by the wooden post. Her shoulders felt like they were being dislocated.
The lust that raged on inside her left her shattered and feeble.
Then, Wil appeared in front of her with a knife in his hand. She thought for a moment that he was so disgusted by what she had become, that he was going to kill her. The idea terrified her, and increased her pleasure. It would be the ultimate experience to feel that razor-sharp blade cut into her.
He severed the rope holding her ankles. The pain when she unfolded her legs were unbearable. She forced her feet under her body so she could take a little of the weight off her chest. She looked over at Lois, and saw that she, too, had the use of her feet again. It was obvious that the big-breasted blonde had received basically the same treatment Clara had. Lois' finely-fuzzed pussy was matted with cum. Globs of semen streaked her face and tits.
Clara swayed woozily. She was still bound to the post, but was standing after what seemed like hours. Then the coils holding her to the four by four were cut, and the stake was drawn out. She stood there before the watching people. Her hands were still bound behind her. Her naked, cum spattered breasts thrust out boldly.
Wil appeared in front of her. His expression gave her the creeps, made her guts simmer. His domination of her was complete. She loved his ropes, the humiliation and helplessness. He could do anything he wanted with her. And they both knew it.
"Come on," Grant ordered. Clara and Lois were escorted to a low platform.
A small hibachi stood on a metal table in front of an open window. A small fan drew the smoke out of the room. The charcoal Wowed dully through the powdery white ashes. Two wooden handled steel rods nestled in the coals. The ends were buried in the glowing embers.
"Lois first," Grant ordered. He looked at her. There was fear and unbelievable lust in her eyes. She was staring at the coals as if hypnotized. "Are you going to scream?" he asked.
Lois shook her head.
"What's happening?" Clara asked fearfully, glancing at Wil for reassurance.
"Watch," he answered. "So you can brace yourself for it. I'll be very unhappy if you have to be gagged."
Clara looked back at Lois, and shuddered. Lois' escorts had trapped her upper arms and her legs, spread her open and bent her backwards slightly. A black blindfold had been tied over her eyes.
"It's so you two will never forget who you belong to," Wil told Clara. Fear sweat was trickling from her armpits.
Grant took one of the steel rods from the bed of coals, and eyed the glowing tip. It was a branding iron! Heat waves shimmered off the orange letters.
Lois writhed against the hands gripping her, then relaxed. Her head twisted as if she was trying to see through the blindfold. Clara's guts knotted tighter and tighter as Grant moved toward his helpless woman. Everyone was around the platform, watching hungrily- Clara noticed that all the men had monster hard-ons. The women were licking their lips in anticipation.
Grant moved the glowing branding iron within an inch of Lois' straining gut, down low, near her pussy. From the way she stiffened, it was obvious she could feel the heat. She sucked in a desperate breath, and braced herself against the anticipated pain.
Her teeth clamped down on a thick leather strap. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled and inhaled quickly.
Clara stared, fascinated. She was horrified, terrified and unbelievably aroused by the sight. Grant thrust, held the branding iron against his woman. There was a sickening, sizzling hiss, and the stink of burning flesh. Smoke burled up from where Grant was still holding the branding iron against Lois' pale flesh. She fought the men gripping her, but it was useless. Her head tossed and turned and the cords in her throat stood out as she sank her teeth into the leather bit.
It seemed like the iron was going to burn clear through her. Grant held the searing metal against her gut for what seemed hours. For hours Lois fought the urge to scream in agony as Grant's initials were burned into her belly. Finally, when the branding iron was removed, she gave a gut-wrenching moan.
The blindfold was ripped off her eyes, and someone smeared salve on the charred letters. Lois glanced down at the "GP" and smiled tenderly at
Grant.
Then Clara felt her arms being grabbed, and her legs being caught and dragged apart, and shot a look of stark terror at Wil. Tenor, and then love, because she wanted to belong to him, wanted the visible symbol of her love burned indelibly into her flesh.
"No gag," she assured him. "Just the bit."
"And the blindfold," Wil said, waving the black cloth.
Clara bit back her protest. She was Wil's to command. The blindfold was obviously part of the terror, part of the symbolic subservience.
He slipped the black cloth over her eyes, shut out her view of the brazier and the branding iron. Her terror rose. So did her lust. She shuddered in the grip of the men holding her. She waited, listened, heard the soft rustle and clink of the coals as Wil took the red hot iron out of the fire.
Then there was silence. Something brushed her lips. She opened her mouth, and the thick leather strap was slipped between her teeth. It was still wet.
Clara clamped her jaw on it, hard. Where was Wil? Why was it taking so long? She turned her head, and listened. She tried to see out under the blindfold, but couldn't. The room was silent and waiting. Where was he going to brand her? She hoped it would be in the same place as Lois, where anyone thinking of using her pussy would see it.
She froze when she felt a wave of heat against her lower belly. She smelled some of her pussy hair being singed. Frantically, she sucked in a desperate breath and tried to brace herself for the pain to come. She prayed it would come soon, and wouldn't last too long.
The touch of the branding iron felt cool for the first fraction of a second. The sound of her own flesh sizzling filled her ears. Then came pain, like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. The pain bored straight through her and into her soul. Her muscles knotted and writhed with bone breaking force as the branding iron burned into her naked gut.
Worse, almost, than the pain, was the stench. Her face was wreathed in coils of smoke from her own burning flesh! Her stomach heaved reflexively, and bitter bile stung her throat. Still sinking her teeth in the leather bit, she fought the vomit down.
The pain went on and on and on, until at last she could bear it no longer. A soft moan escaped her just as she realized that the branding iron had been withdrawn sometime before. The pain was losing its sharpness, fading into a dull ache. She tongued the leather out of her mouth and blinked against the glaring lights as the blindfold was removed. Then, she looked down. She flinched as the man who had tended Lois gently smeared anesthetic ointment over the charred welts of her marking.
Site looked at Wil devotedly- When his eyes met hers the love she saw in them made her heart melt and her pussy bubble with desire.
Lois was lying near the edge of the platform. Grant's cock was in her pussy. Her hands were still bound behind her back. The two men who had escorted her since the beginning were hastily stripping in anticipation of their reward.
Clara felt a surge of affection for the men who had been supporting her for so long. When they began dripping off their clothes, she sank down to the floor and offered her cunt to them as Wil stripped slowly.
The first man settled between her thighs, aimed his dick into her streaming cunt, and rammed into her belly. The pressure of his body against her fresh brand only added to her ecstasy. His dick drilled deep into her cunt.
The way her hands were bound behind her back made her uncomfortable, so she kicked and squirmed, rolled him over so he was under her. He grasped her waist, and fucked his cock into her spasming tunnel. She writhed and squirmed on him. The pain from her burn was an added stimulus. Her clit was being ground savagely.
The touch of a cock between her ass cheeks made her moan. She felt a dick push against her bung and fought to let it in. The unlubricated penetration of her asshole felt fantastic. As the dick drove slowly into her tail she had the feeling she was being torn open. She felt like she was going to rip in two from her crotch upwards.
Her lust raged higher and higher as the shaft drove into her greasy rectum, and the cock in her cunt pinched the invading ram, squeezed the thin baffler between cunt and asshole.
"Suck it," Wil ordered. Her mouth around his cock, and everything vanished but the pain from her branding, and the cocks. She had cock in her ass, in her cunt, and in her mouth.
She was a three-cylinder engine of lust. As the three dicks pistoned in her, everything hazed out. She began to cum again. She felt the dicks hosing her with thick semen, flooding her. She floated away an a foaming tidal wave of jizz...
