As a newspaper reporter I have run across many strange stories of bizarre sex practices. Some of them involve warped, twisted psyches that have reached the point where no normal sexual practices are impossible.
At this point, their strange sexual compulsions drive them to all sorts of off-beat sexual contacts in the hope of achieving satisfaction.
While the daily police files are crowded with stories of rape of one sort or another, there are sometimes cases of such terrible magnitude that the details make the calloused reporter flinch.
To better understand how the mind works in these twisted sexual circumstances, I have drawn upon a few such incidents to outline in detail exactly what happened.
While it is hard to understand how certain individuals derive satisfaction sexually from warped sexual practices, it nevertheless is necessary to completely understand how their minds function in order to be of help in preventing recurrences in the future.
Therefore, we will focus our attention on the minutest details of these strange and twisted sexual psyches, and by looking at these acts dispassionately it is hoped understanding will follow.
These strange people can serve as vivid reminders that these aberrations exist all around us, and they can well serve as a warning to keep our guard up at all times.
How often one reads of two young teenage girls who are hitch-hiking and wind up picked up by two lusty young men. If they are lucky, they get to their destination unharmed. But, if they are like some unfortunate young girls who've tried hitch-hiking they are either molested, raped or killed. The sexual instinct is second in power only to survival in the human psyche. This must be remembered when anyone thinks sex is just a plaything.
The following case histories expose the depths the sexual drive gone awry can take a person.
-Marvin Johnson
CASE ONE - WHITE SLAVERY
For three weeks Helen McGinnis had been a waitress at a topless bar. She was rapidly becoming fed-up with the obscene comments about her oversized breasts. While her well-endowed chest had kept her in great demand for dates in high-school, and she recognized her body as being the thing that had landed her this job, she still couldn't get used to men ogling her and making dirty jokes about the size of her breasts.
Everytime she served a drink to a customer, her large white breasts would instantly attract his eye. And then some of them would try to touch them. And if she pulled away, they liked to smirk and crack a dirty joke about them.
Then one night, just before closing, she was serving a scotch on the rocks to a very distinguished grey-haired man who strode in briskly and sat down at a lonely corner table. The place was nearly empty, and the other waitresses were standing near the bartender, griping about the poor night Helen figured she'd do her best to make up for the night of poor tips by showing him every consideration. "Good evening," she smiled. "What would you like?"
"You!" the man said evenly.
"To drink?" Helen asked nervously.
"You!" he repeated, "but right now I'll settle for a scotch on the rocks."
"Alright," she laughed, "coming up-" A few moments later, Helen placed the drink down before him. He caressed the back of her hand, and she didn't pull away with an angry-comment as she always had done before. Something about this man intrigued her, yet she couldn't pinpoint precisely why he turned her on.
His eyes focused on her breasts, and she found her own body tingling to his touch, to his intense gaze.
A nervous smirk swept across her face and she flushed in embarrassment. She pulled her hand away from the man and moved away from the-table. "I'm John Carmine," he said slowly, enunciating his name with a feeling of great importance. "After work - I'd like to see you-"
"All right," she said softly, nodding, and slowly pulling her hand away. The man smiled, his eyes reflecting the excitement he felt building in his loins at (he thought of knowing her intimately. Then, she thought of what her boss had said about never taking dates with customers for after hours. Turning to John Carmine, she smiled. "No, Mr. Carmine, I can't meet you - I'm sorry."
But Mr. Carmine quickly responded, "Your boss, baby - your boss, Mr. Clark won't care at all." Then, he paused. "We're old friends," he smiled. "Just ask him if you want to." Picking up his drink, he began sipping it slowly.
Now vividly recalling Mr. Clark had told her to check with the bartender, if she thought trouble was brewing, she turned to check out the reaction of the bartender. Sure enough, he was nodding, with a knowing smile.
"You see," Mr. Carmine said gloatingly. "I told you it would be alright didn't I?"
"Yes," Helen nodded, "I get off work here at one - I'll meet you then."
"Meet me at my car," he said," I drive a silver Mercedes and I'm in the parking lot - you won't find it difficult to spot me because there aren't many cars out there tonight."
"I know," she replied. "I'll meet you later."
Raising his glass in a toast to her, his eyes were aglow with anticipation of all the different sex acts he had in mind for her to perform.
Helen liked one thing about him. He was rich. She was tired of counting pennies and going to third-rate clubs and restaurants. Maybe, he could show her the town - on a first-class basis.
When she walked back to the bar, the bartender called her over.
"You're a lucky chick, Helen," he said softly.
"He's loaded."
"I need to meet a big-spender," she whispered. "I'm tired of two-bit tippers."
"Baby, if you play your cards right, you won't have to work in a broken-down spot like this - but don't deny him anything he asks-"
"Anything?" Helen asked, nervously gulping as her mind conjured up all kinds of weird sex acts he might ask her to perform.
"Within reason," the bartender smiled, "The girls who play along with him get nice apartments, sometimes even cars - but they don't defy him. He can get awful mean, too - so play along... play it cool honey."
"I'll try," Helen said quickly, "but I-I don't want to perform any abnormal sex with him - I won't."
"So what's abnormal?" the bartender grinned, and then reaching out to mop up the bar got his hand close to Helen's big breasts. The moment she felt his fingers touching her, she pulled away. "Sorry," the bartender smiled. "I'll bet you are," Helen snapped, glancing toward the clock which was quickly arriving at one a.m.
The other girls began changing, but Helen didn't. She was still undecided as to whether or not she should risk the date with the strange man.
Mr. Carmine sensing she hadn't made up her mind, got up and walked over to the bar, ordering one last drink. As he stood there, Helen busied herself cleaning off a nearby table. Then she heard Mr. Carmine chatting in a low voice to the bartender. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, and this bothered her.
As the other girls left for the night they gave admiring glances in the direction of Helen's date. One overbearing waitress, fluttered by, twitching her body to attract his attention.
"Goodnight Beautiful," Mr. Carmine grinned.
"Good night," she smiled sexily, "and take care."
Helen finished cleaning up, and gave a wide smile to Mr. Carmine who was watching her every move attentively. Helen ordered a straight gin for herself while Mr. Carmine ordered for another scotch. Then, when Helen was out of earshot he asked the bartender about her.
"She's new here and hasn't putout with anybody, dammit," the bartender winked.
"She looks like a might good piece of ass to me," Mr. Carmine said, letting his eyes sweep over her body, and focusing once more on her exceptional breasts.
Then, a grim look surfaced on his face and he whispered, "Fix her the usual-" The bartender nodded, and when the drink was ready, Mr. Carmine called out to Helen, "Join me in a drink, honey!"
Reluctantly, Helen walked over to him, "All right-" she said, Putting the drink to her mouth she sipped it slowly.
They chatted, and joked, but when Helen had finished the drink it hit her like a torpedo, sending exploding rockets of pain through her head. In a moment she was unconscious.
"Give me a hand," he asked the bartender, and together the two of them got her out to Carmine's silver Mercedes. Once he had her in the car, slumping down in the back seat, he got in, handed a twenty to the bartender and drove off.
Helen didn't know a thing until the next morning. She came out of her foggy condition to the sounds of birds chirping. Glancing about the room, she gradually became aware of the fact that she definitely wasn't in her own room. She sat up, and rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to recall what had happened to her. The drink. Yes, that was the last memory she had, and then zoom - out like a light.
Reaching down, she checked herself, opening her legs to peer at her vagina. There was no sign of any foul play - where was she?
She called out, but no one answered. The light shone brightly in the room, and then Helen noticed that there were no windows. She ran to the door, her lush body bouncing with the motion. It was locked and they had taken the key - whoever 'they' were.
She heard approaching footsteps and bounded back to the bed. Pulling the blankets high over her tits she awaited the entrance. The key turned in the lock and the door flew open wide to reveal John Carmine, dressed in his riding outfit, a short crop in his hand.
"Welcome to Birdcliff. I know you will be happy here. Your duties will be simple, and if you do not obey my orders immediately, you will be punished. If, however, you prove to be a good slave, you will find everyone most charming. "John smiled, slapping the crop against his high boots. Helen found her tongue. "What do you mean, my duties? I have a job at the club. I don't belong here. Give me my clothes and let me go."
"You are now my property, Helen. You are my slave. That's all there is to it. You must call me Master and obey... or else."
Helen foamed at the mouth. She was outraged at being called a slave and her quick mind figured out that the club owner had sold her to this man.
"You beast, let me go." Helen flew at him, trying to escape through the open door. John caught her by the wrists and his riding crop lashed out, sending her screaming back to bed.
"You will learn that I mean business. Any more foolishness and you will be punished. Now slave... I want you to meet the rest of my little family." He clapped twice and three naked wenches marched through the door, followed by three men bearing a strong resemblance to John. He introduced them rapidly.
"This is Carol, Samantha, and Sandy, your companions. They are also slaves and have learned to follow or orders... isn't that correct girls?" They nodded, smiles flitting across their beautiful faces.
John continued introductions, naming his relatives. "This is Edgar, Peter and Ralph. You will obey them as myself, and call them 'Sir' or 'Master'. No undue familiarity is allowed."
The men all turned Helen around, admiring her lovely figure, especially her tits which hung low and full, like grapefruits. They made side comments to each other and the talk turned Helen's stomach. She knew she had to get away from here. She was convinced she would find a way out, no matter how long it took. How degrading to be treated like property.
"Carol, I want you to show Helen here the slave's quarters, and let her shower. After that, we'll all meet in the playroom." John clapped again, and the slave girls motioned Helen to come along as they filtered from the room.
On the way to the room, the slaves filled Helen in on the ongoing White Slave traffic in the city and how club owners set up likely victims for rich clients. Helen made all the connections and fumed at how she had fallen into the trap.
The slaves' quarters were a series of interconnecting rooms, lined with overstuffed pillows and thick rugs. The girls hustled Helen into a shower and turned it on full blast.
Helen massaged her body rapidly, letting the soap fill her pores, feeling it swirl between her legs. She gingerly touched her nipples, sensing the hardening and then smoothed her things. The actions felt good but Helen held back from going the full route.
Successful at staving off a masturbation exercise, Helen stepped from the shower feeling refreshed. Her body glowed pink in the softly lit room. Around her the three naked girls lounged, awaiting the call to the evening's activities.
Carol was the most voluptuous one of all, her long, blond hair, covering her back curling up at the ends, touching her slim waist. Beneath that, her ass, inviting touch, swayed as she walked, and those ripe melon breasts moved back and forth, topped with red-tinted nipples.
Sandy was the shortest one, her Rubenesque figure blossoming like a ripe rose. Her hair was short and cut in bangs that gave a pixie look to her cute face. Blue eyes sparkled under the long bangs, and a perpetual smile seemed to play at her mouth. Her tits were small, apple shaped, and capped with brownish buttons. Her cunt hairs flared between her rich thighs, and Helen caught a whiff of perfume emanating from that pretty spot as she passed her.
Samantha was thin, almost to the point of being bony. Her model's figure looked starved without clothes, but Helen knew that she must have looked ravishing in any attire. The pointed tits stuck straight out, standing proud as she tended to her complexion in a hand held mirror.
Helen slowly dried herself, rubbing the towel over all parts of her young body. She knew she was the youngest one there, having just turned twenty-one last month. Maybe her youth would prove to be a valuable asset in this maddening situation. Maybe the whole affair would prove to be amusing after all. Still, a strange fear gripped her stomach and tied a knot in it when a long bell sounded in the room.
Carol explained that they were expected in the game room in five minutes. The girls all hurried to make themselves most presentable. Helen finished drying herself, and pulled her long blonde hair back in a pony tail. She touched at her face with dabs of mascara, but had not the time to do a really fine job when Carol began hurrying her out of the room. The girls proceeded single file down me hall, naked, and smelling like fresh perfumes.
They wandered about the large mansion until Helen thought they must be lost. Just then they turned a corner and entered a large, white room, where the four men stood, waiting for them, their clothes in a heap in the middle of the floor.
Helen glanced quickly at them, watching their pricks wave in the air. John's was the biggest, and the immense tool wagged its red head at her cunt when she entered. The girls each went beside their own 'master', and Helen followed suit, standing next to John. He looked at her, his eyes resting on her large tits, sending shivers of anticipation down Helen's spine. She checked his cock again, and it seemed to grow larger as he stared at her.
Then a hand moved onto her tit. John squeezed the nipple hard, making Helen jump back with a yell. John approached her again, squeezing the other nipple harder. She yelled once more and backed away again.
"Come back here you bitch." John grabbed her waist and pulled her close, thrusting her body against his.
Helen rebelled and twisted away. "Leave me alone, you beast. You don't own me... you don't." She screamed at him, tears covering her face as she yelled, her face turning bright red as her anger flooded over her. This was just what Carol had warned her not to do, but she could not help it. No man had the right to treat her like a common whore or a slave. She was determined to remain master of her own body.
John Carmine had other plans. He motioned to his relatives, and two of them pinned Helen's arms to her sides. Then they dragged her to the far wall, where she was manacled in place, her back to the cold, hard surface, her legs spread wide and her arms stretched high above her.
"Now I'll teach you to obey me, you cunt. When I say stand still you had better react right. When I say jump, you jump. When I say fuck, you fuck, whomever, or whatever I say, I'll teach you some manners!"
John Carmine's face was purple with rage. He was not going to be humiliated like this in front of his relatives or those other slaves. He would prove his right to be called 'master' by using some of the family methods. Over the long years that the family had owned this magnificent estate nestled deep in the woods outside the city, the Carmines had practised many nefarious tricks, most of them leading to higher states of erotic pleasure. They stopped at nothing to gain a small measure of enjoyment, and their secure financial and social position had always shielded them from police action. Now, John Carmine, the youngest of the family, was about to prove his heritage once more.
He whispered to Sandy who left the room quickly. While she was gone, he paced nervously back and forth, feeling the eyes of the other persons on him. His prick had sagged a bit, and hung against his thigh. It flapped up and down as he moved, bringing himself closer to Helen's secured body with each turn.
The door was flung wide open and Sandy entered carrying a flaming torch. Helen gasped as the realization of what was to come flooded her mind. Sandy handed the torch to John and retreated to the side of her master, Peter.
John approached Helen, threatening her with the flame. Helen twisted her head back placing her cheek against the hard wall, trying desperately to avoid the hot fire. The smoke clogged her nostrils, causing her to cough and gag. John backed away a bit and turned to face his compatriots.
"Gentlemen, you man assume a comfortable position and I'll attempt to amuse you with a few fire games." The others laughed and directed the slave girls to assume different positions for pleasure. Sandy knelt before Peter and caught his swinging dick in her mouth, sucking the hardening tool with complete concentration. Peter, stood still, watching John approach Helen once more.
Samantha bent her thin body at the waist and spread her ass cheeks wide in front of Edgar. He probed the spot with two fingers and raised his body on his tip-toes, poised above her crack, waiting for John to begin his activities. Sandy touched the floor with her bony hands and balanced herself, waiting for the thrust of Edgar's prick into her ass.
Carol reclined on the floor, spreading her voluptuous thighs wide. Ralph, his cock already at full erection jumped into the saddle and shoved his handle deep into the slave's cunt, feeling his tip bump against her pussy walls. Carol shifted, slinging her legs over Ralph's shoulders so that he could stroke at ease while watching the masochistic proceedings.
As John approached Helen, his prick began to rise again, sending the fleshy pole up at a sharp angle. Helen watched him close in, fearing for her life. She tensed, waiting for John to pass the torch over her flesh, feeling her bones melt under the mere thought of the heat.
John held the torch high, the kerosene soaked rags flaming and smoking about equally. He kept the torch back, while he inspected Helen's shaking body. Assured that she could not run this time, he plucked once more at her tits, making the girl recoil with panic. A few hairs stuck out from each tit, and John twirled them around his small finger and yanked, pulling them free. The agony was terrifying. John moved to the other tit and pulled the hairs straight out, and moved the torch closer, bringing the flame into contact with the long hairs. They burned quickly, giving Helen a searing pain as the hot end reached her flesh.
By now, all the watching men had begun pumping back and forth in their various positions. The girls, used to such shows by now tried to enjoy the sex as best as they could, shutting Helen's screams from their ears as they sucked or fucked their 'masters'.
Helen knew this was no dream, no solitary nightmare in her small roominghouse space back in the city. She knew she was dominated by this mad man; one who thought of himself as her master, her lord. She tried to sort out the best way to gain her freedom, but nothing seemed to make much sense. She was trapped here, until such a time when she could either buy her freedom or make her way to safety.
Around her, the orgy continued. Ralph pumped his hard cock into Carol's slit, his hands on either side of her opulent body, stroking her as he forced his prick deeper into the crevice. Carol enjoyed the fuck. She had always enjoyed a man's attentions, and now that she was being completely dominated by one, her sense of base womanhood filled her with an incredible passion. She busied herself, providing pleasure for her owner's body. She sucked his chest as he swung back and forth over her. Her legs remained clutched tightly around his neck and together they rocked on the floor, moaning and laughing like young marrieds.
Samantha's asshole was now full to brimming. Edgar had forced his cock deep into the crack and wormed it around inside her, while one hand sought her pussy. He busied himself above and below her, managing to find her clit while his cock still charged inside. Edgar yelled obscenities loud and clear as he thumped at her rear. With each swear-word her lust increased and she arched her back, helping the probing pole reach ever deeper into her tight asshole. She had always enjoyed this ass fucking, and even though it had given her hemorrhoids, she endured the momentary pain for the pleasure that was to follow.
Sandy still sucked on Peter's cock, her eyes wide open, watching the hard member slide in and out. Her hands stroked the base and cupped his balls. The hairs tickled her fingers as she rubbed the hanging sacs of flesh. Peter liked that and moved closer to Sandy as she stepped up her motions. He locked his fingers into her hair and held her tightly against his groin, insuring her full attention. Sandy did not need the encouragement. She loved this better than almost any sex act. The only thing that made her get hotter was when a man or woman ate her while she did the same to them.
Helen saw the merry-makers around her, and knew in her heart that she could not expect any help from the other slaves. How she hated that term. An inkling of what it must have been like to have been a black slave crawled into her brain. Still, if she managed to escape, her white skin would give her at least a chance of hiding. Not so for a black slave.
John had stopped the torture for a moment and watched the lovemaking in the room. Then he turned back to Helen and, putting aside the torch in a special holder, he approached her again. This time he knelt before her wide open thighs, and gingerly touched a finger to her cunt. Slowly he worked the finger around in circles, digging deeper with each pass inside her cunt. Slowly he worked the finger around in circles, probing the tender, pink flesh. He smoothed over her pubic hairs and sent his probing finger sliding onto her clit. She tried to shut the sensation out of her entrapped body; but as John worked over her box, the heat spread of its own accord, disregarding her conscious orders to desist. She shuddered.
Helen writhed slowly against her supporting wall, feeling her loins begin to fill with liquid. Her juices flowed, seeping into the twat, while John caressed her skin and began kissing her thighs. Helen's heat turned up a notch and her fists opened and closed as the sensual feelings flooded her body. She hated John for doing this. This degrading act to her trapped body made her feel no better than a common slut. She didn't know how she could ever get back at him, but she would figure a way. She tried in vain to close her thighs but the leather thongs cut into her ankles every time she tried to move.
John moved his hips higher, reaching the fur covered plateau. Then his tongue flicked inside the hole, sending unwanted shivers over the large tits that hung from her upper anatomy.
"Stop it... you pig... leave me alone... I don't want your filthy mouth on my body... leave me alone." Helen screeched her rage at him, feeling her sense of shame momentarily overcoming her building lust.
"Shut up... slave. I'll do what I please. If I want to fuck you I will. If I want to eat you, I will. If I want to kill you, I will. I bought you, and you're mine to do with as I damn well please. Now shut up or maybe I'll have your tongue cut out." John spread his evil smile over his gums and Helen took heed. She shut her mouth as John returned to her moist pussy.
Her body began to betray her immediately, as John resumed his action. Helen looked around and watched the others, beginning to reach their sexual peaks, while the men watched what devious thing John could think of for Helen.
John managed to squirm three fingers into Helen's hole and began massaging that orifice with a strong steady stroke. Helen's lubrication increased and soon the crack was swimming in liquid. John removed his fingers, satisfied that he had gotten her amply prepared for the next act.
John turned to the assembled persons and called for their attention. He asked for help to strap her to the floor. Immediately, Edgar and Ralph removed themselves from their slaves' attentions while John began untying the leather straps. Helen rubbed her wrists and ankles as soon as she was free, but almost immediately was grabbed and pushed to the floor. Ralph sat astride her, his cock dangling just in front of her head, while Edgar and John tied her to the straps coming out of the floor.
Before long she was in the same position as before, only flat on her back. Her cunt was wide open, and sopping wet. John stood in front of her, his hard cock standing like a tree. He mounted her firm body, and as his hands squeezed her proud tits his cock found her cunt and plunged deep inside. Helen felt the giant tool ram against her womb. John pumped hard and fast, kneading her globes as he thrashed about between her legs.
Behind him, the other males formed a line and Helen dreaded the next sure thing. As the men waited their turn at initiating her into the household, their slaves caressed their skin, helping to keep their taut pricks ready for the fucking. John kept pumping inside and Helen felt her own come prepare its journey. She fought to keep any signs of enjoyment from showing, but her face grew more and more contorted as John plied his cock with expert mannerisms. His rough skin tweaked her nipples while his belly slammed against Helen's midsection. She bit her lips, trying to stem the growing urgency in her cunt, but it was no good. The flow broke free, sending a giant burst of lust through her veins. Helen screamed with the joy of it, giving up her valiant fight and simply riding the wave of pleasure that flooded through her crevice. John pumped twice more and shot his charge, spilling the hot white sperm into her, sending shiver after shiver through her hot body. She moaned in her forced ecstasy, and nearly passed out as John pumped harder than ever before. Finally, he slowed his motion and released his weight from her body. He slid his dripping dick from her, and shook a few drops onto her white skin. Before leaving her altogether, he wiped his cock on her face, smearing the remains of his cream into her skin.
Now Peter mounted her, replacing John. His cock wasted no time. It dove deep into the soaked place and began squirming in the liquid. His fingers strummed over her thighs, and found her hard fleshy clit. He pinched and pushed at it, sending uncontrollable feelings of lust through Helen. Her pinned arms tried to encircle the fucking man, tried to hold him closer to her. She had passed the point of caring about the degradation, and wanted only the good solid cock meat to fuck her silly.
Peter didn't take long before he was set to shoot, and as he rammed his sperm home, Helen felt another spurt of come free itself in her cunt. It was glorious. She had never come so many times before. Maybe this was the kind of treatment that the other slaves regularly got. Maybe this was why they refused to rebel against the men.
Next came Ralph, and finally Edgar. While those two finished their sexual acts, the slaves gathered around Helen and watched her try to bump and grind, try desperately to meet their demanding cocks with her enslaved body. Before Edgar gave his final shot, Sandy lowered herself onto Helen's face, aiming her wet cunt for those lovely pink lips. As the smell of the woman reached Helen, she found herself lifting her head with her tongue extended, trying to make the approaching cunt part of her body. The new sensation was wonderful. She had never had any relationships with a female before, but this soft velvety cunt that she was eating was so nice, so soft.
Sandy rode above her face, slipping back and forth on the slim tongue, aiming her hard clit for her teeth, scraping it along the hard bone. On her part, Helen struggled to please both persons. She couldn't decide which felt better at the moment, the pounding cock in her raw cunt, or the dripping smelly wet cunt squirming on her mouth.
She didn't have much time to think about it. Soon her body was shaking with yet another climax, as Edgar finished his task and Sandy managed to squeeze her cream out onto Helen's face. The three of them pulsed vibrantly as they came, filling the air with whoops and yells of passion.
When it was all over, the men left the room, and the slaves untied Helen, lifting her slowly to her feet, supporting her when they led her back to the slaves' quarters. There they; placed her in the hot steam room and let the rising moisture take the tension and pain from her wracked body. Helen dumped forward on a wooden bench, her head resting on her chest, sleep trying to overcome her returning agony. Her cunt ached, and felt like it had been gone over with a pruning hook. Inside it felt red and sore, and every time Helen touched it, the pain shot through her weary body. She slumped some more and was soon asleep in her seat.
She awoke early in the morning, just before dawn. She was on a large comfortable bed. Sitting up, she spotted the other slave girls in the dim light. Silently, she slipped from the bed and crept to the window. Her first glimpse of the countryside was breath-taking. The country-manor was situated high on a cliff, overlooking the long green valley that served as suburbia to the city. Around the outside of the mansion a large wall served as boundary. Vines climbed across the top, sending green trestles in and out of the worn stones.
Helen quietly tried to lift the window. It was locked and secured from the outside. There was no hope of escaping through this window. Even if she had managed to get through the locked glass, the drop to below was nearly fifty feet, and the high wall was an unscalable twenty-five feet. It was hopeless to think about escaping.
Helen returned to bed and thought it all through again. She had to admit that once her body took over, the sex was good. Even though the men had been ruthless with her cunt, they had provided good fucking, and Sandy had topped it off by placing those luscious thighs on her face. Still, her pride was hurt. She wasn't going to be anyone's slave. 'Even if the fun was just like yesterday, she was determined to be master of her own fate. Damned if she was going to allow someone to buy and sell her. They'd never get to her soul.
As she thought deeper about it, the rage took hold again, turning her heart hard. She glanced at the sleeping girls, feeling less and less pity for them, and more anger at allowing themselves to be beaten without struggling. She would figure out a way if it took years.
Somehow she must have dozed off again, because the next thing she knew, Carol was smiling down at her, shaking her gently.
"Wake up sleepy-head. It's time to do chores. You'll have to cook today you know."
Helen yawned and stretched, her mammoth boobs shifting as she reached high above her head. Then she bounded from the bed and did her bathroom duty. The other girls were already dressed in simple slacks and blouses, ready for a day's work in the house.
Carol showed Helen some similar clothes that fit well, and soon the four girls were on their way for the morning chores. They hurried to the kitchen, taking up their various stations. Helen cooked scrambled eggs and toast for the men, filling the large coffee pot with the proper amount of coffee and watching it perk itself dark brown and robust.
Breakfast passed without incident, and Helen stayed in the kitchen throughout the whole meal. Sandy and Samantha served the men and quickly returned to help clean up. There was much less ceremony about the morning meal, and in a short time everything was over, and the plates were washed and put away. Then the girls ate the cold cereal that was their portion. Helen raged at this, feeling more and more like the second class citizen in some foreign dictatorship. Every time she mentioned something about the ill treatment they were getting at the hands of the men, she was greeted by silent smiles and nodding of heads by the girls, but no one seemed at all interested in taking action.
After breakfast the girls cleaned house. They acted like hired maids, only they could never expect a day off, and never expect a week's vacation in the summer. They were permanent fixtures in the house. The men's rooms were dusted and the beds made Next they washed the bedroom floors, and moved on to the play room where the gang-bang took place last night.
Entering the room again brought vivid memories of John's rotten mind to Helen's thoughts. She remembered his burning her tit hairs, and pulling the others from place, just to torture her. The feeling of fury verged on insanity now as Helen was ordered to clean and soften the very straps that held her in place during the previous night's rape.
By the time the house was cleaned, lunch time was at hand, and the girl's returned to the kitchen. Helen again cooked lunch, preparing cabbage soup and stew. She sweated over the hot stove until everything appeared perfectly done. Samantha carried the first course to the hungry men.
From the kitchen Helen heard the men laugh as the kitchen door swung open to allow Samantha into the dining hall. A few seconds later, the air was pierced by a terrible cry. Samantha scampered back into the kitchen, crying and calling for cold water.
Helen reacted quickly and ran into the dining room with a pan of cold tap water. She saw what had happened and knew that Samantha was in trouble. The bowl of hot soup had been spilled onto Edgar, and the scorching liquid burned his legs. Ralph quickly grabbed the pan of cold water from Helen and splashed it on the scalded man. A sizzle rose from the spot where the cold met hot, and Edgar glared in anger through his pain wracked tears.
Samantha crept back into the dining area, whimpering, her whole body begging for forgiveness.
"Oh master, Edgar, I'm sorry. I slipped. It was an accident. You know that don't you?"
Edgar reacted true to his upbringing. "Accident my foot. I think you deliberately planned to spill it on me." He nearly yelled at her. "I'll have to teach you a lesson in being careful. After lunch I expect you to be at the target practice area ready for discipline."
Edgar regained his composure and returned to his seat, wet pants and all. The lunch continued as if nothing had happened. Sandy served instead of Samantha, and no further incidents were recorded.
Soon after lunch the four girls made their way to the outdoor target shooting area. The men had already assembled and were busy firing round after round into a dummy. The dummy was extraordinary. It had the full blown figure of a Las Vegas show girl, and was being riddled with bullet holes. As the girls appeared, Edgar lowered his pistol and approached them. He took Samantha by the arm, and calling for his relatives to hold their fire, escorted her to the spot where the massacred dummy stood. Edgar unstrapped the target and strapped Samantha in its place. He silently walked back to his shooting spot and spoke to her.
"Slave... this is an exercise in discipline. If you fail to obey my orders with exact precision you will be most likely shot. You know that I am an expert marksman, so I do not boast idly. Please be sure to follow my exact orders or you will inevitably be sorry."
The man raised his pistol as the onlookers watched, the tension growing minute by minute. Edgar spoke sharply, "Stay perfectly still, and the bullet will miss your ear by a fraction of an inch."
Samantha froze in place, her eyes closed, and the shot rang out. True to his word, the bullet whizzed just to the left of Samantha's ear. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and the men laughed to see such a sport.
Time and again Edgar gave orders and Samantha moved this way and that trying to fulfill his desires. Each bullet landed just where he had predicted, leaving the frightened girl unharmed.
A knot was tightening its grip on Helen's stomach as she watched the proceedings. A feeling of horror had crept inside and was making her nerves rattle. As shot followed shot she got stronger intuition about something dreadful about to happen.
Edgar told Samantha to incline her head to the right and five inches. The girl stretched her long thin neck to the right, and prepared for the shot. Edgar kept her waiting a long time and her head grew tired. She seemed to jerk slightly as the time lengthened. Edgar smiled, his gun raised, ready to shoot. The other men giggled to themselves, sensing Edgar's fun loving spirit build. The time stretched on, causing Samantha's head to droop even more.
"Pay attention slave." Edgar called to her as the tension grew. He kept his gun aimed carefully at a precise spot, waiting for the correct moment to fire. Samantha jerked her head back in place, feeling the pain of waiting begin to tire her neck muscles. She tightened her arms around the pole, and felt her strength flag as she forced her head to stay erect.
Still Edgar kept her waiting. She closed her eyes and used every last bit of energy to keep her head in place. The other girls watched closely, fearing for the worst. The men peered at the human target, only interested in whether Edgar would be able to prolong this torture much longer. He had certainly made his point about obedience.
The shot was made. Samantha slumped forward, her head split open.
"The fool... she didn't hold it where I ordered her to. Now I shall have to buy another girl... damn fool." Edgar turned from the scene in disgust.
The girls couldn't believe what had happened. He had actually killed her for spilling a bowl of soup. That's what it amounted to. The other men shook their heads at the missed shot, and ordered the slaves to remove the body and dispose of it in the crematory.
Helen was shocked into her place. She couldn't move. The other two girls were somewhat more accepting of the inevitability, but the brutal slaying still had touched them. Carol finally shook off her state and slowly helped the dead girl from her position. The tall corpse wilted in her arms, blood still gushing from the head wound. Sandy rushed to help Carol, and Helen managed to summon the will to assist them. Together they dragged her back to the house, and down into the cellar. Stuck far in one corner was a large oven type affair. The girls rested Samantha's body against a wall while they struggled to open the massive doors. Carol lit a match and bent low, opening a smaller metal door. She touched a red button and the smell of gas filled the basement. Carol lit the fumes and a roar of fire whirled inside the oven. The heat was overwhelming, and the slave girls backed off. Finally, they managed to lift Samantha's dead body and toss it into the consuming flames. It disappeared inside, and they quickly shut the iron doors.
They clanged shut, and the lock slipped into place. Samantha was gone.
Helen made her way back to the slaves quarters, barely aware of the two girls that walked beside her. She felt like a living zombie. Poor Samantha. And anyone of them might be next. Anyone of them might slip or fall, or say the wrong thing or put too much salt in the food, or something like that, and soon be cooked in that roaring gas oven. The thought of it made her ill, and when she reached her bed she flung herself across it, crying for all she was worth.
No one bothered the girls the rest of the afternoon, and although the evening meal was served at the normal time, in full undress by the slaves, no undue conversation or erotic play marred the reverent feelings that Helen still carried. She cooked hardly aware of her own situation, and served, simply walking by the talking men, ignoring their very existence. The men left them alone, eating in silence, and quickly leaving the hall.
After cleanup, with no orders to report anywhere, the slaves returned to their quarters, where they tried to pass the hours until bed time. By eight o'clock they were still sadly mentioning Samantha's death, and the cruelty of the event began to penetrate deeply into all the girls' minds. Helen was enraged more as the night progressed and vowed to the others that she would figure out a way to revenge Samantha.
Carol was still hesitant about attempting any sort of mischief, but Sandy was easily convinced of the necessity for action. Helen worked on her fear, explaining in full detail how she might be the next one to provide amusement. Perhaps tomorrow she might slip in the dining room and end up hung from a ceiling with care. Helen knew she had made her point when Sandy rubbed her soft neck, a glazed look in her eye. Together the two girls made Carol agree to helping with whatever plan they devised.
Helen still had no idea of what to do when they went to sleep. That night she dreamt of the shooting again. This time it was her that was getting shot, and the men were around her at the same time, sticking their cocks at her. The come ran in her dream, and she awoke in a wet bed just as her head was at the angle that Samantha couldn't hold.
The rest of the evening was spent tossing and turning. Finally she must have fallen asleep toward morning, for Carol shook her awake about ten o'clock. "Hurry, we missed breakfast and the men are outraged. Oh, how did we sleep so late?"
The three slaves hurried to the kitchen but the men had already ransacked the refrigerator, eating whatever left-overs there were. They were all drunk. Obviously they had been drinking all night, and liquor spun from their breaths as they ordered the girls to clean up the mess.
As soon as that job was completed, the girls reported to their Masters in the dining hall. There they were told that the rest of the day was to be a celebration. The men felt it was time to lift the gloom from the house, and were planning on an all day orgy to initiate the thought. The slaves were ordered to make seven leather masks, one for each person in the house. Then they would meet, completely blindfolded, in the games room, and begin random fucking.
Maybe the party would become even rougher, if the slaves didn't hurry with the masks. That sent the females scurrying off to the costume room. Carol dragged some bolts of fabric suede from a large wooden chest and spread it on the floor. Quickly, she traced a pattern for a large face mask with no eyes, and began slicing the material with a single-edged razor blade. She handed the box to Helen and told her to get busy, too.
Kneeling on the floor, ready to cut the suede, Helen had an idea; percolating up into her head was the answer to her revenge. She looked down at the razor and then at her fellow slave-girls. As she worked, cutting the suede, she explained her plan.
The idea made more sense to her as she began telling it to the others. They decided to carry out her idea, and the girls rushed to complete the masks.
When the girls returned to the dining hall, masks in hand, the men were still drinking heavily. Helen approached John, handing him a mask, and letting her feline body slide over his drunk being. John automatically let a hand fall on those gigantic tits. Helen snuggled closer, working her hand around John's ass.
"Sir, may I request something?" Her eyes purred up at the man.
He grunted approval, and she asked if she could get tucked by everyone again tonight. She explained how she had really enjoyed it the other night and that she wanted to try it again. Only this time the other girls might get jealous, so they'd have to work it out so that they got a fair share. John liked what he heard. Helen explained that the slaves wanted to lie on the floor while the men went in a line from one to the next, filling them with hard meat.
John's cock jumped a bit as he turned the idea over in his liquor soaked mind.
"Wait a minute." He called the men into a huddle and they agreed to the plan. It was an especially appealing one since they were a girl short.
Helen boldly suggested that they make a game out of it. First the men would get undressed and blindfolded. Then the women would undress and he in any position they wanted, while the men wandered around trying to figure out which girl was which as they fucked her. Then they could move on to the next until each man had come. Then it could start over again. For extra fun the girls would also be blindfolded and try to guess which man was where in the line.
The fun appealed to the drunken men, and miraculously they agreed. The slaves quickly undressed them, all three girls working on one man at a time, ending by discarding his underpants and covering his face with a mask. Soon the men were ready, and the girls worked fast in removing their own clothes. They squatted, spreading their thighs wide, enabling them to insert a single edge razor blade in their own cunts. The sharp tip grazed Helen's cunt as it entered, leaving a small line of blood. The cut didn't cause her any pain; the point was too sharp for that, but soon a distinct thumping was felt in her crotch as blood rushed to the wounded area.
Carefully she donned the mask and spread herself on the floor, keeping her thighs wide apart, holding her breath as she placed herself in position. The others had followed her lead, and managed to insert the small blades without damage. They called to the men, all yelling at once to disorient them, calling them to fuck. The men fell over each other, losing their balance and finally crawling to the females.
Now John found Helen. He was sure it was her. No one else had tits that big. He sucked the nipple, letting his teeth graze the point. His hand slipped towards her cunt, but Helen shifted slightly and moved his hand to her other tit. "I want your meat, darling... please put it in my cunt." Helen's hand reached for his long cock and dragged it towards her wet crotch. She placed herself under his body, slipping into place beneath his thighs. All the time she carefully held her pelvis still, not wanting the razor to slip from place.
John responded to her love call. He massaged her breasts as his cock beat at the door of her hole Helen grabbed the tool and aimed it at the entrance. She arched her back and John drilled his pole deep into the crack. Helen forced herself against him, feeling the cock meet the sharp blade.
John had felt a strange sensation inside the cunt, but his befuddled brain didn't connect it with a cut. The ultra sharp blade had made a deep incision in the head of his prick and as he moved, the blood began dripping onto the floor. His blindfold prevented him from visual knowledge. Quickly he crawled to Sandy who greeted him with equal ardor and soon had his prick rammed tight against the searing razor blade. His entrance had caused the blade to pierce Sandy's cunt, and since she had expected the cut it was recognizable as such.
John pulled out quickly, anxious to move on to Carol. His cock was slit twice now but still the pain wasn't the type to clearly register. John knew something strange was informing him about his prick but he figured it was the liquor telling him how strong and virile he was to be able to fuck three girls at once.
Carol pulled him to her, kissing his lips while her hands guided his bloody cock into her razor sharp gift. She dug her nails into his back as she jammed him against the blade. The nails gave John a noticeable pain, and that led him to receive the other signals of agony.
He released Carol and jerked himself from her body, feeling the throbbing head of his bloodied cock. Great spurts of blood were foaming from ail the men's cocks now, each one having followed John at least part way through the line.
Helen ripped off her face mask as John howled his pain, Her own cunt was sliced inside, ribbons of blood flowing through her veins, dripping from the chasm and spilling in a pool beneath her outstretched body. She felt every inch of the blade's cutting edge digging into her warm cunt. It was terrible, but the knowledge of what she had accomplished made her heart smile.
By now John had realized he was cut, and tore the mask from his face. An agonized cry crossed his lips as he sighted his lacerated prick. He moaned at the sight and then glared at Helen, knowing that she was the one responsible for this horror. His bloody prick flopped in his hands as he tried vainly to stop the crimson liquid. He gripped the torn member tightly, squeezing to apply pressure, but the action only forced a larger supply of blood to escape.
Helen watched him, her own pain wracked body taking hope as John staggered back and forth, the sliced meat still in his red hands. Now her feelings were mixed. She dreaded the pain that built in waves through her system, but at the same time she was pleased at having made these men pay for their crimes. She felt like an avenging angel, and as such was willing to pay her share to cleanse the land.
The other self-styled slaveholders had perceived John's cry as one of orgasm, not terror, and continued their fucking until they too felt the sudden rush of pulsing blood push pain into their systems. Soon all four men were writhing in pain as they held their wounded pricks. They had stripped off their face masks and tried desperately to stem the tide of blood that seeped faster and stronger from their tools.
The girls had their own genitals to worry about and began sticking fingers into their extended vaginas, trying to dislodge the sharp razors. It was hopeless; the razors had become deeply imbedded in their soft passages, and every movement made the agony worse. Helen gave up trying to rescue the blade and contended herself by watching the agonized men perform their senseless rituals of walking from wall to wall, their gory pricks leaking red fluid with every step.
Carol cried, her body jerking with the pain, Every movement caused a new gash inside her, and Helen warned to stop moving. The advise was to no avail as Carol continued to make her own cut pussy worse by writhing in the bloody pain. Sandy had drawn her knees up high, opening her red slit wide, and clasped her hands around her knees to keep her legs still. She tried to keep motionless while the searing blade wiggled in the spurting blood.
Cries filled the room, and even Helen, trying her best to be stoic about the whole thing, released some mighty oaths. Her insides were on fire, and the red flames showed as they lapped at the soft thighs.
John watched her, his prick now drenched in red liquid. He made an unexpected decision and slammed his hard body against Helen. Forcing his bloodied prick to a semblance of erection, he shoved the semi-hard tool into Helen's soaked cunt. Helen was so surprised by the movement that she didn't fight back. The prick slid in the gushing blood, as John began fucking her again. Each new thrust drove the blade deeper into both of them. It had turned in the crevice and the edge sliced both persons as the fucking continued. Somewhere, deep inside, a finger of passion spread its remaining strength through Helen's loins and she shoved hard against John's rocking form.
Now John lost control of himself and began tearing flesh from Helen's squirming body. The cries of agony filled his ears, as his own lustful pain made him attack Helen's body with a new fury. He pulled and yanked at Helen's oversized nipples until one gave way, and a fresh stream of blood appeared on the girl's soft white skin. Helen screamed again, and thrashed wickedly beneath John's firm figure. She knew John was about to tear her apart, and decided to get a modicum of pleasure if she could. She flung her bloodied legs high in the air, crashing them down on John's shoulders and locking them securely behind his head. Helen lifted herself higher on the somewhat limp cock and made every motion count as her lust began rising in her pain-filled loins. Her tits were being ravaged by John's teeth as she bit his neck, popping veins in his body. Her hands scraped over John, pinching and twisting flesh wherever she could get a hand-hold.
Somehow a rich feeling began crawling amidst the suffering that overwhelmed the couple. Together they fucked their last fuck, making it an adventure in destruction. As their mutual orgasms neared, John whispered to Helen, "I always wanted to die in bed... Guess I get my wish." With that he clamped his mouth to Helen's and sucked and bit her tongue until it gave way and flopped inside her mouth like a dead piece of flesh.
Helen had readied herself to answer John's last remark, but the words were glued to her mind. The loss of her tongue made it impossible to speak, and her thoughts roared around her head. She felt trapped again, only this time she knew there was no escape. Her body pushed on towards an ultimate release, and John angled his rose-red cock higher to force the issue.
The blade cut and gouged at his prick and at Helen's vagina. Now their passionate remains tried valiantly to overcome the incredible feelings of pain. John gritted his teeth and sent new whoops of lust into the air as he busied himself tearing at Helen's delicate flesh. Chunks of skin gave way and were followed by spurts of rich blood. The end was near and John felt his come begin that long awaited journey. He rammed the battered tool harder as his body reeled under Helen's violent attack. She made every effort to pay John back for his cruelty, and began wrenching at his skin with her nails, making long red openings up and down his sides.
Her pussy felt John's heat, and her own mysteriously began to meet it. Somehow, through all the pain, they came together, spurting a curious mixture of come and blood, John screaming his approval, while Helen, mutely accepted the last climax.
Around them, the other men had taken to frantic attempts at bandaging their wounded cocks. Someone had enough presence of mind to phone a doctor, and began applying tourniquets to the bloody members. Curtains were ripped apart and strips of cloth wound tightly around the wet cocks. Ralph searched the room for sticks to apply the needed extra tension. He spotted a chair and lifting it high over his head smashed it to pieces. The rungs served as pressure tools, and he went about tightening the tourniquets.
Before long, John and Helen lapsed into a semi-coma state, still locked in each other's loins, their torn and ravaged bodies bespeaking the horrid adventure in which they had partaken. The other girls weak from blood loss, did their best to keep still, while the men now reclined with tight pressure on their pricks.
The room was filled with the odor of death. Although the men had attempted to apply correct medical methods, they knew little about tourniquets and in fact had made the situation worse by applying too much pressure for too long a period of time, in the wrong spot. The girls, having no one to help them, slowly sank under a blanket of pain, as the blood continued to pump through their cunts. John and Helen had stopped moving altogether and only occasional muscle spasms gave them a semblance of life.
Time passed, and as it did, life ebbed from all the household members. When a doctor arrived he found the ghastly scene. Holding his nose, so the overwhelming stench of death wouldn't force his stomach to release its supper, he circled the room, insuring that all the bodies were lifeless.
CASE TWO - ANIMAL GIRL
Janice heaved a sigh of relief after her date had gone home. He was one big bore. She'd gone to a lot of work to fix a fabulous spaghetti dinner, and selected a choice red wine to enjoy it with. But Rodger, a history student at the University, rambled on incessantly about the great men of the past, and why he wanted to be like them. She tired of this boring re-cap of his history class about five minutes after he opened his big mouth, but she couldn't tell him to split that fast. But, how she wished she had the guts to throw him out earlier.
Things hadn't gone at all as she had expected. The first date she'd had with him, she thought he was a man of action - but playing it cool.
"How about a show?" he enthusiastically suggested. "I dig those Broadway shows-"
"So do I," Janice had assured him. And so they picked a play to attend. First, it was dinner at O.Henry's in the Village, and then the show. The seats were in the balcony, but the view was still good, and he'd wrapped his arm around her tightly all evening. She thought sure he might put the make on her when he took her home. But he didn't, much to her disappointment.
So, when he called the following week, she was very glad to hear his voice. Just the sound of his voice reminded her of the warmth of his hands as he held her at the theater. How she wished he'd used those hands to feel of her most intimate parts of her body. After they'd had a few moments of chit-chat, she decided she'd have to make the move.
"Roger," she asked, "how would you like to come over to dinner?"
"Sure," he told her quickly, "When?"
"Next week," she told him reluctantly putting it off that long. But she thought it best not to be too fast in putting the make on him because he seemed almost shy.
And then Roger came to dinner and discussed history. Ignoring the fine wine she'd picked, he rambled on about the great men of history and what they mean to us now.
She realized she'd been wrong. Even though they'd enjoyed themselves on their first date because they'd a mutual interest in musk and science fiction stories, he'd never gotten around to history. Even though she hadn't cared too much for the show, she had enjoyed the fact he'd taken her to a big Broadway theater. And more than that, his attentive arm wrapped around her gave her the idea he cared about her.
Following the show, they'd gone to a small coffee house and had a snack. Then, Roger drove her home. He didn't try to kiss her goodnight, but she thought he wanted to do much more and was afraid he might not be able to control himself should he start expressing himself physically.
As she slipped the key in the lock, the heard Marquis whimper and growl Calming him with a friendly word, she went to bed, and promised herself she'd have him laying her yet. It would just require some strategy.
She could hardly get to sleep for she kept imagining what it would be like when he mounted her, and thrust his hard male member into her hot vagina. She'd grip his tool in her snatch, vigorously working her cunt muscles around it. And she'd reach around him, massaging his buttocks, and pulling him tighter toward her body.
But a week later, she discovered her dreams were light years removed from reality. All Roger wanted to do was eat food, and rattle on about history. He ignored his wine, and was totally oblivious that he was talking to a chick who wanted to get fucked in the worst way.
Janice tried to get drunk, hoping to thereby drown out his irritating voice, but she couldn't quite manage. As soon as she could realistically manage it, she claimed a headache from the wine, and after aspirins seemed to no avail, she politely asked Roger to leave.
All through the evening, the dog had sat contentedly at his mistress' feet As the meal had progressed, Janice slipped him portions of her meatballs, as he happily licked her fingers clean. Even after the food was cleaned from her fingers, the dog kept up his slurping motions. Janice liked the wet tongue sliding over her hands. She generally had at least one hand in Marquis' mouth whenever she was home.
They sat on the couch after coffee, watching the TV set in the dimmed light. Janice moved next to Roger and could feel her own body heat escaping through the thin material of her short cotton dress. She had worn a sexy outfit, all frills and lace, in hopes of making a quick interest in Roger's mind. Unluckily, she had competition from the television, as a special show detailed the historical account of the introduction of the horse to the New World. Although Janice enjoyed the wonderful close-ups of the animals, she was quickly bored by the facts. Roger hardly noticed her during the show. Only while a commercial interrupted the show, could Janice begin to note the faintest signs of sexual stimulation.
Even after the show, when Janice purposefully chose slow dreamy music, Roger stuck to his first love. He proceeded to relate more trivia about horses around the world, and ignored Janice's broad hints at lovemaking. Unfortunately for Janice, although she always had enjoyed heterosexual relations, she could never quite bring herself to the point of really initiating the action. Somehow that seemed too masculine for her. She wasn't a liberated woman by any means.
Now, alone with Marquis, she was comfortable for the first time that evening. She draped her slim body in a low chair, letting her long arms dangle over the sides. Marquis licked his chops after the latest meal and cuddled up under Janice's chair. The young woman listened to the dog's sounds, trying to free the last bit of her mind from the influence that Roger had had on it. All night she felt a sense of frustration, not only physical, but emotional as well. She realized, as the evening progressed that Roger was a person very alone in the world. She felt sorry for him, but then her heart lightened with the thought that at least she wasn't alone. She had Marquis. He understood her feelings. Especially when she showed him affection, and offered herself to him. Roger didn't take his opportunity when it was there. Janice felt she had truly offered her soul and body to Roger, but that his self centered ego would allow him to see and capture her beauty.
Marquis was more understanding. He grasped the simple act of love that she had so often offered. Janice smiled down at the dog. His big front paws stretched in front, white markings outlining the toes. The dog stretched, making large spaces between the claws, and resumed cleaning his paws. His tongue worked steadily over the meaty paws until he was satisfied.
Janice loved to watch Marquis care for himself. Of course, she helped him occasionally, like giving him baths. The thought of a bath appealed to her. Marquis always splashed so much in the large bathtub that Janice used to get soaked with every wash. Now she merely removed her clothes before lifting the heavy dog into the water.
Deciding to go bathing; Janice walked to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, knowing that Marquis enjoyed the steam created as the tub filled. She turned on the hot water, letting it spurt full blast from the nozzle. The water pressure was excellent and it wasn't long before the tub was nearly full. She opened the door.
Janice turned on cold water, and began to undress in the steamed bathroom. Marquis, wandered in from the next room as Janice slipped the fluffy dress over her head. Janice quickly shut the door behind the dog.
"There puppy, now the steam will stay in here. Just let me get undressed now, and then I'll help you into the tub. Yes I will."
The dog looked up at Janice as she unhooked her bra, letting the round breasts free. Janice shook them once, getting the stickiness from under the meaty globes. Marquis watched, a dog's comprehension in his brown eyes. He knew what all these preparations meant. When his mistress got undressed and the white tub filled, then he always got a washing. Marquis had always liked water, and played in it, more like a kitten, or a young colt, pawing at it, kicking it, lapping it.
In a moment, Janice was nude, her tanned body golden and brown in a tile room. Wet spots from condensation in the air began forming immediately along her lips and behind her ears. She ran her fingers through her hair once, and bent to the dog. Marquis just waited, and didn't wiggle when he was lifted against Janice's soft body. The woman felt his flat side, full and firm, hairy against her tits and stomach. He was always nice to hold. Ever since he was a puppy he could be carried almost anywhere. Only by Janice. Whenever anyone else tried to lift her, the dog shied away, growling if the person persisted.
Gently, she lowered the full grown Boxer into the warm water. Her arm went in too, as the water level crept up over the dog's shanks. The animal shook once and stood free in the water. Steam still rose from the tub, but the dog, by now was used to bathing in warm water. Janice preferred it that way, knowing that Marquis was bound to splash. Now she picked up the soap and sponge from the tub edge and rubbed them together in the water. This action set loose some bubbles in the water and Marquis pawed at them as they floated by. Janice removed the sponge and soaped it vigorously, raising mounds of suds for the dog. She reached for him, but the dog shied away. This was always the time when Janice had the most trouble with the canine. Whether it was playing or he really didn't like the soap was something Janice had never been quite able to figure out. As soon as she decided that Marquis really hated the brand of soap, and vowed to buy another kind the next day, the dog would act coy and obviously playful. So, she continued using her own favorite facial soap, assuming that he was just playing.
Even though communication was not always perfect between the two animals, Janice knew that beneath it all they knew each other quite well. Whenever they were together they seemed to feel the same way about anyone else they might be with. Tonight, Marquis had almost ignored Roger's presence completely devoting his attention to his mistress' fingers and ankles. All evening, Janice was much more aware of Marquis' physical presence than that of Roger. Now they were together with their favorite play things: soap and water.
Janice had to admit liking this bath time as much as Marquis. Lately she had taken to soaping her own body as she washed the dog, liking the way the thick suds covered her ripe form. The last time she bathed Marquis, she was more than a little tipsy, after a party, and found herself locked in a fierce masturbation scene almost before she knew it. Marquis splashed around in the water watching her gyrations, small whimpers emanating from his throat. She remembered that when she came, the dog barked sharply twice, an unusual occurrence.
These memories flooded through her mind as she started soaping the brown beast. He finally stood still and allowed Janice to rub the suds into his short haired body. The muscles rippled in Marquis' side as Janice massaged as well as washed. She really liked the dog, and on impulse threw her soft arms around the animal's neck. Marquis almost purred and bent his head around to lick at her.
"Yes, my sweet dog. You like me... more man a little... huh? Give me a kiss... yes?" Janice readied her face for the dog's big tongue. She held still as the wide flesh wiped over her face. The wet kiss repeated itself and Janice stuck her tongue out to meet the caress. They rubbed tongues, and Janice concentrated her attention on this action. Marquis' great tongue almost completely enveloped her own, and Janice finally pulled away, wiping the Boxer's saliva from her lips.
"Good boy, Marquis... Yes... good boy." Janice released his neck and passed the wet soap over her own body. Quickly the hands reached her breasts and found her already hard nipples. She was so excited tonight. Now that she had masturbated with such enjoyment while bathing Marquis, maybe tonight's bathing could become even more exciting. She slipped the bar of soap onto her hard point and twirled it, leaving a visible bit of soap suspended like a tiny pastie, covering the nipple. The smoothness there stimulated her hands when she rubbed them along her round breasts. Her full mounds were covered in soap and the sudsing process continued as Marquis watched from the tub. She alternated using the soap on her body and then on the dog, smiling at his strong features as she lathered him.
Her hands slipped beneath his brown belly, and the soap curled around the animal's loins, disappearing in the water. Janice pulled the plug up for a minute, allowing the water level to lower and then resumed her lathering. She reached into his loins and spread a large amount of soap on the dog's balls and cock-sheath. She always washed his penis and ass carefully, for she was quite aware that the doggy animal smell that so many non-dog lovers objected to came from those two places. Since the dog had been a small puppy she had massaged his penis, thoroughly enjoying the Boxer's reaction. After a short time in Janice's hands, the dog's penis always began to peek from its outer skin covering. As the dog matured, his cock got increasingly lengthy, and now when Janice tried her tricks, the dog presented a long hard red cock for her hands to stimulate. For the last year, Janice had masturbated the dog, glorying as the animal shot his sperm clear into the air. The dog seemed to enjoy it, and Janice admitted to her own pleasure.
Now that she had reached a manual climax herself during bath-time, her mind turned to bigger game. She hadn't been a virgin for about five years now, and although her fucks weren't terribly frequent, her sexual appetite was pretty well satisfied by fingering herself and watching her dog shoot his giant load.
Now she was preparing for a new adventure. She circled her hands over Marquis' balls, feeling them flop in their skin sacks. Then her fingers strummed along the dog's prick. She could feel its deflated length nestled inside its protective covering. It was always such a thrill to watch it poke out of the skin casing. Janice stroked back and forth over the cock, feeling it perk into action beneath her soapy touch. Soon it began to really move, and Janice increased her stroke, bringing it rapidly from its hiding place. Her eyes bulged wide as the dog's cock thrust into view. It always was like that. Janice never seemed to tire of the wonder and awe she felt at the sight of that prodigious tool. She loved to run her hands over the full length of the dog boner.
Now she stopped a moment to soap her own genitals. The bar squeezed between her vaginal lips and worked a lather deep in the crack. Sometimes the soap burned her there, but tonight she felt only the tingling sensation the wet cake sent up her cunt. Her motions brought the soap in contact with her clit and the erotic feeling climbed a notch higher as she pushed hard against the knob of flesh.
While she soaped herself, making her eyes become slitty and narrow, she never allowed her gaze to stray from her animal friend. Marquis stood in the water, his long cock reaching up from his rear to touch the bottom of his dripping stomach. The boner was immense and Janice focused her attention on it as she worked over her cunt. One hand flew back to the dog's tool, soaping it as the matching appendage made sensual swirls inside Janice's pussy.
Janice knew if she repeated the hard strokes much longer she would reach a quick climax. She also knew that if she kept slipping her hand over her pet's prick he would shoot his rocks off. Suddenly, she slowed her motion, keeping them both in an excited stage, but lessening the urgency for discharge.
Janice called to Marquis to jump from the tub, and released his prick as he tensed for the leap. He obeyed; and more water splashed onto Janice as he shook the liquid from his hide. She patted him for doing her bidding and bent next to him, her hand slipping back to the long rod. Squatting, she delved back into her own cunt, not wanting to lose momentum in her sex act.
She sensed the nearness of release and released the dog's cock, letting it slap once against his underside and bury its red head in the wet fur. Janice rapidly soaped up her cunt again, adding gobs of suds to the hot hole. Then she bent over the tub, her ass sticking invitingly in the air. Her cunt flared open as she lowered her head and shoulders inside the porcelain tub.
She stuck her hand between her legs, flapping the fingers in the space, calling for Marquis to come around to her back-side. The dog followed her hand and licked at the familiar fingers. Marquis faced Janice's exposed rear end and cunt, his eyes trained on that soapy spot. Janice peered through her own legs and noticed Marquis was perfectly in place. Returning her head to the more comfortable position inside the tub, she called for Marquis to mount her back.
The trick was one they had practiced many times, but never in such a sexually aroused state. The dog placed his two front paws high on the girl's back and Janice buckled slightly under the weight. She pushed back a bit, raising her ass in the process. The water in the tub swirled before her, so Janice shut her eyes. She called once more to the dog and coaxed him up her backside, until his outstretched paws rested on her shoulders.
Janice could hear the dog's panting when he was in place. Her ear was practiced at telling when he was in position on her back. Now she figured she knew why she had been unconsciously training Marquis to climb her back. Now his long cock hovered over her ass, just above the sudsy cunt.
Janice reached back between her thighs, finding the hard cock and adding fresh wetness to the soapy animal. The cock slid in her hands and she pumped it for familiarity's sake before aiming it for her expanded hole. The dog shifted slightly as Janice forced the cock straight at the orifice. She squirmed her ass a bit higher, towards the expected prick.
Next she felt the canine's cock actually touch her box. The hard tip felt good and strong against her lubricated slit. Janice slowly stroked her hands once more up the long pipe, sensing the animal's building tension, while her own body awaited the full impact of that oversized erection. Janice braced herself on her hands and leaned hard against the side of the bathtub, establishing her balance carefully. Then with a thrilling jerk she moved her cunt hard onto the extended pole. The dog bounced on his feet as the cock slipped into Janice.
The girl yelped as the full size rammed into her female opening. She hadn't really been expecting it to be quite so wide, quite so demanding on her cunt, but she was glad the initial point had been passed. Slowly she inched back further as the dog began his own small thrust forward. It seemed that the dog really understood just how tight the fit was and wasn't about to do anything to upset the balance between pain and ecstasy.
Janice felt the cock slip deeper into her cavern, the top of its wide length rubbing full against her erect clit. At the same time the flowers of passion inside her cunt were unfolded by the pressure of dog flesh on the woman's vaginal spots. Janice wiggled slightly, feeling the good burst of lubrication it loosened as Marquis' enormous length squirmed harder against her clit. Janice gave up the notion of pain, and attended only to the building joy. Her cunt had never been used so well. Marquis had come through again, proving to be her best friend.
A feeling of real love surged through her as she thought about the kind dog. He had always been so gentle, and even now, turned to his most primal urge, he remained helpful and strong. Her cunt muscles opened and closed like a fist. The dog shook a little, the long cock shaking Janice's loins in the process. Janice was glad she was getting fucked by the dog. She knew she could not get pregnant which was nice to know. But, even more important was the way the fuck was proceeding. Her full cunt soaked up every vibration from the canine's meat as he began to move faster inside the wet track.
Deep in her genitals the full measure of joy began to be felt. Her come was poised on the tip of its entrance, waiting for the next move. Janice initiated the course of action. Gritting her teeth, and throwing herself into the spirit of the act, she began to pant and move like a bitch in heat. Her mind concentrated on dogs, and on pictures and fantasies she had about dogs fucking. In her head she became the eternal female dog. Her dog cunt moved faster and faster over her dog partner's cock. Her throat gave out cries of canine pleasure. No human words were uttered, but every syllable and grunt bespoke of good fucking.
Marquis began to sense his own rush, even in his dog terms. Automatically, he inched further forward, lodging the entire tool smack into the stretched socket. He moved in response to the bitch's heat, building the pressure for release to the bursting point. Janice bucked under the force of her actions while the dog copied her swift movements. Her lust was completely domineering now, and her ruttiness drove her come through the elongated passage, bathing the dog's cock as it exploded a charge of its own. The hot dog come mixed with Janice's human flow, and she felt the merging of the two species into one. Her orgasm heaved her over the dog's cock, her tender cunt flesh seeming to rip with the spurts of doggy come.
Her climax carried her until the dog stopped his own shaking and together they clenched their genitals into one heap, the dog still buried deep in the wet slit. Janice had whimpered throughout the ejaculation, feeling her heart pound and her tits swing as her whole body rocked with the joy of the fuck. Her Marquis was such a darling. All the evening's tension and frustration had been wiped clean. She knew she could always trust her dog to help her... to do the right thing.
After a moment's rest, time to feel the still hard cock at balance within her hole, Janice ordered the dog to back off. He obeyed immediately, panting a bit more slowly than when he was letting loose a moment ago. During his ejaculation, the dog had barked twice again. Janice took it as a sign that he had truly enjoyed the whole thing. Now as he backed out of her, she felt the long pole recede down the wet crack.
Marquis stepped off of Janice's back and began licking the back of her legs. Janice, come dripping from her box, straightened up, placing her hands on her hips and stretching. Her back snapped into shape, her arms relaxed, and her legs eased the muscle strain that had carried her through the pumping climax.
"Stop now, Marquis... that's enough... good boy." The dog responded and walked away from Janice. She ripped off some toilet paper and cleansed the gobs of come from between her thighs, flushing the sticky paper down the toilet.
Janice opened the bath tap and let fresh water fill the tub. She wiped the dog with a damp sponge, removed the soapy remains of his bath. Then she went over her own body, feeling the sudsy film float away the last remains of leaking cream. When they were both clean, Janice toweled them in turn and then wiped the wet tile floor with the damp cloth.
She opened the door and let the dog bound into the living room. Wrapping a large towel around her, she followed the animal into the room. Marquis headed straight for the couch and curled up, trying to relax his drained body. Janice sat on the edge of the couch, a thoroughly satisfied feeling in her mind. Her body had demanded release and she had accomplished the act with the help of her ever faithful companion.
She watched Marquis sleep. His deep breathing belied the activity he had just been involved in. Every time she had masturbated him, the dog showed plenty of energy. Immediately after the act, however, he always coiled up in some corner and slept soundly. Janice didn't disturb him as he slept, and headed for her bedroom.
The next morning Marquis woke Janice by licking her face. During the night he had changed his sleeping place and ended up in the same bed with the satisfied girl. Now, as dawn was well established, he lapped his mistress' face, rousing her from a dreamless sleep.
"Down Marquis... down now." The dog left her face, but instead of lying still, he burrowed beneath the blankets, bringing his large jaw next to Janice's warm thighs. The dog's panting sent waves of hot air over Janice's cunt as he approached that hole with his wagging tongue.
Marquis had been licking her cunt regularly for about two years now; ever since he was big enough to really follow orders. He came to like the taste or smell so much that now he dove for the human box on his own with no coaxing necessary. Janice didn't mind, except sometimes when the dog started in early in the morning. She felt her pubic hairs wilt under the dog's breath and lay back ready to enjoy this morning's romp. Today, she was willing to let the dog have his way, free of last night's tension.
Marquis licked her stomach and loins with his extra wide tongue. The dog's saliva was always heavy and thick. It left a coating on the girl's soft flesh. Janice wiggled on the sheets, opening and closing the inviting space, while Marquis' active tail wagged outside the covers. Janice slipped one hand under the dog's ass and fondled his balls. They were so long and full. Janice knew, after last night's fuck, she could get the dog to spill his come in her whenever she wanted it. But now she was quite content to let the dog sniff at her cunt, in preparation for the wonderful eating out she knew would follow.
Marquis squirmed deeper beneath the covers, his strong buttocks sticking high in the air as his short curly tail continued to wave back and forth. Janice smiled and petted the beast's back, while her thighs spread wide in anticipation of the erotic dog act. Her eyes closed tight as Marquis sent his long tongue into her special place. The sensation was always the same. Janice always got a chain of shivers up and down her spine as Marquis delved into her crotch. As his dog-tongue lapped at her pubis, Janice moved quickly to shove a pillow under her back, raising the crotch closer to the licking tongue.
Over the two year period Marquis had become quite expert at getting his large tongue folded into her small cunt. After last nights stretching exercises, her cunt was wider than usual and the animal had no problem swirling his tongue into the crevice. As the flesh hit her clit, Janice jumped. The tender knob reacted with tingling flashes as the tongue wiped back and forth over it. Janice stroked the dog's back-side, her long fingers beginning to knead the animal's hidden dong. Her eyes remained shut as the dog continued his animal-human cunnilingus. His teeth pushed against her pelvis as Marquis shoved the tongue further into the already wet hole.
Janice felt the tongue sliding around inside her, and although it wasn't the same kind of complete fullness as Marquis had provided last night, she lolled back, enjoying the now familiar pattern of lust that the action aroused. Her loins were heating up in record time. As Janice managed to raise the red head of the dog's cock, she found her own genitals in a complete state of excitation. The passion spread up to her hands and they whirled back and forth under the beast, bringing his prick to high erection. Janice shifted, making the dog step over her with one hind paw. Now her head was beneath the dog and she stretched up, her mouth open, aiming for the pet's balls. Janice managed to swing them into her mouth, and began gargling them in her throat. They filled her almost to the point of choking, and as they jiggled about she felt the dog increasing his pressure on her cunt.
Now her mind slipped a notch and resumed its animal posture, feeling only the dog things, smelling the dog smells and wanting the dog treatment. The real dog tongue lapped furiously inside her squishy moistness, melting her last reserves as it pulsed like an electric eel. Above her, the dog chest swept over her stomach, the under hairs brushing and caressing her vibrant flesh. Janice lifted her body to meet his, to feel the full dog weight on her. She slipped his balls from her mouth and pulled herself higher, using the dog's back for leverage. The animal bounced on the bed as Janice climbed up, her ample tits, flattened against her chest. The nipples flared like starched ends, long and red under the brown dog's stomach. Somehow she managed to nuzzle them in the dog's fur and the action sent further waves of dampness through her crotch. The dog panted and Janice tried to match his rhythm. She pumped up and down his tongue, feeling its slimy saliva-ladened surface cover every inch of cunt flesh. Drippings from his mouth ran down her thighs, making wet pools on the sheets. Janice threw back the bed covers, wanting to watch as the sex grew more rapid.
The dog's cock was full and big, but Janice couldn't manage to twist herself into a position that allowed gathering it in her mouth. It always pointed up and away from her lips. Instead, she licked all along the insides of the dog's thighs, moving slowly towards his small asshole. As Marquis lengthened his tongue strokes, Janice stuck a tip of her own weapon into the dog's anus. It tasted like dog shit smells, and although the odor was overpowering, Janice reacted like a bear to honey. The further her tongue dove into that brown recess, the more odor floated to her brain. The more smell reached her, the more her mind assumed a dog-like pose. She began slipping her tongue in and out in a rapid pattern, her hands working full time beneath the animal, while her cunt was massaged by that non stop dog tongue.
Together the pair looked like a side-show act, the dog leading the lady deeper into the world of canines. Janice was glad to go. She cleared her mind of any thoughts of disgust as her head bobbed rapidly behind Marquis' ass. She knew only that the dog was helping her cunt fill with lovely love juice, and she would do her best to make him feel good. If that meant tonguing his ass, then so be it.
The dog cock squiggled free of her hands and flapped hard against Marquis' underbelly. Then it shook with a giant spasm, releasing great quantities of come. The eruption made his entire body quiver, and Janice's tongue was nearly caught inside the suddenly restricting asshole.
The woman's cunt was hot as lava. The dog's climax had forced stronger motion into his tongue and it slapped and licked with tremendous speed as Janice began to feel the steaming gurgle of come bubble up from her tender loins. Her legs flapped wildly about the canine's head. She removed her tongue from Marquis' ass and gave loose with an incredible dog yelp. Her howling sent new energy through the dog as he responded to his mistress' love call. A shuddering burning sensation boiled clear up into her dancing tits. The liquid began to flow through her crotch and the squirming tongue seemed to draw it out in its incredible murmuring, almost violent passage. It streamed through her cunt, bringing fresh visions of fucking dogs to Janice's brain, flooding it with animal images.
Janice shook, her entire body going rigid beneath the dog's outstretched body. She rubbed her hands along the firm dog flesh, feeling the latent power in Marquis' flanks. Now, as the tide ebbed in Janice's crack, the dog sensed his mission was complete and drew back, leaving her cunt full of dog saliva and woman cream. Janice was motionless, her mind still flashing big great-danes and boxers fucking in the street, running back and forth, their long pricks lodged in each other's assholes and cunts.
Since her childhood, Janice had always liked watching animals fuck. She went out of her way to follow bitches in heat, waiting for the gang of dogs to do their thing with her. She would happily spend hours in the shade of a tree or a doorway, watching the street scene. All through junior high school she had incessant fantasies about being attacked by a pack of hungry dogs and being raped and later ripped to pieces by their long teeth.
In high school her fantasies lessened as her interest grew in human sex. She was initiated into giving hand jobs in her sophomore year and soon graduated to blow jobs. It was not until her senior year that she lost her cherry, all that time claiming to want it for her husband. Once her hymen had been broken she consented to sleep with just about every boy she met. Her parents fortunately left her alone a good deal of the time and never realized what she was doing.
Her sex life complicated her studies and failing grades kept her from being accepted at any colleges. She stayed back in school a year and became quite a local high school legend, leading younger girls into the mysteries of erotic play and satisfied the most self-conceited, erotically adept boys in school. The majority of her time was devoted to sex.
Finally, she graduated from school, and got a job as a secretary. Now she had been working in the same insurance company for three years. Her job gave her a certain sense of security that enabled her to find an apartment of her own. That was when she got Marquis. Even though she had longed for a dog throughout childhood and adolescence, her mother had always forbidden her ownership of any pets. Fear of dirt and messes in the house made the taboo hard to break. The one time Janice tried to sneak a dog into her bedroom ended in disaster.
During the night the puppy started barking and running around. Janice tried to shut him up, but it was too late. A light switched on in the hall and soon her mother appeared in the doorway, a rolled up paper in her hand. The dog scurried under Janice's bed and the girl tried valiantly to protect it. She succeeded in stopping her mother from beating the dog, but could not manage to escape that fate, herself. The next day, Janice returned the dog from whence it came.
Living alone had taught Janice a few things. Not only could she have a dog of her own, one that was glad to help her fulfill some wild fantasies; but she could also entertain any number of men. She invited some old chums and their dates over. It had ended in a drunken brawl.
After that experience, she had limited her guests to a few at a time. She often brought her dates back to the place, fulfilling their sexual desires while Marquis watched from the bedroom floor, or roamed back and forth from room to room. Usually, after a good fuck session she would jump into the shower to cleanse herself thoroughly before retiring for the night. Invariably, Marquis would jump in with her and they would end up swapping tongues and playing in the spraying water. It didn't take long for this routine to turn into a lovemaking practice. As Marquis grew out of puppyhood he was trained to complete many of Janice's fondest sexual desires. That was when her interest in men began to flag. She didn't see much sense in bothering with male humans when her dog was able to destroy her frustrations with his soft sweet tongue. She loved rubbing his dog prick and watching the sparks fly. In fact, she actually began to love the dog. It became more than a human-dog-as-pet relationship. It became much more of an equal sharing kind of system. Janice would never think of having a snack without preparing one for Marquis. She read aloud to him as he sat on the couch next to her. She explained TV programs to him. And, of course, she showered him with affection whenever they were together. Rarely, she would go out without him, leaving him whimpering at the door. Whenever this occurred, she would bring back a small dog present; perhaps a crunchy bone, or a small cat-shaped toy that Marquis could chase.
She never took him outside without a leash. In her dog watching younger day she had seen many canines hit by cars and was extra careful that nothing of the kind would happen to Marquis. Just the thought of losing him made her heart shudder.
Now that the eat-out session had ended, Janice lolled in bed for a few minutes before getting up for the day. Her vacation was two days old and she hadn't left the apartment. Today she planned to take Marquis to the park, to exercise them both.
Janice showered, locking the door behind her to exclude Marquis. Once in a while she wanted a peaceful shower and that meant leaving Marquis outside. When she felt refreshed she stepped from the tub and toweled her bright skin. Her complexion was clear and healthy. Her bones were strong and her figure the envy of many a girl in her office. She watched herself in the full length door mirror as she patted the wet spots.
"Not bad, Janice," she murmured to herself, Marquis answered her voice, scratching at the door to be let in.
"Hold on Marquis... I'll be right there. Then we'll go for a nice walk."
Janice hurried into her clothes, shimmying into the tight slacks and flesh colored blouse. She checked her make-up less face in the mirror once more and decided she was all set for the outing.
Marquis was leashed up and they paraded from the apartment building, heading for the nearby park. The day was clear and crisp, just a taste of fall in the wind blown clouds that scurried across the pale blue sky. The grass was still green, having been replenished by a recent drought ending rain. The park was noisy, full of running squads of kids on vacation from school. Janice headed to a secluded part of the park, one used mainly as a horse path and dog walking place.
As usual it was quiet there, the trees and meadow like grass muffling the children as they played. Janice relaxed, and walked slowly now, letting Marquis head out on the lengthy leash. He sniffed at every thing, and barked at begging squirrels as they scampered around tree trunks. Once in a while Marquis headed for the trees and sniffed, sensing recent dog smells. He lifted his leg and added his yellow stream to the bark. Janice let him have his way and merely held the leash for her own security of mind. She really didn't ever think that Marquis would run away. He was too well trained for that.
The walk continued, becoming more pleasant as the sun got warmer. Janice removed her covering shawl, letting her flesh-toned blouse and naked breasts beneath feel the sun's heat. The jiggling tits caressed the sheer material and her nipples stretched and nearly poked holes in the fabric. The men she passed all gave her admiring glances, their beady eyes shifting from those luscious globes to the large dog.
Often they passed other leashed dogs, and Janice let Marquis approach and smell the other beasts, keeping a tight rein on the leather strap in case something went wrong in the approach. Most of the masters and mistresses she met pulled their dogs back from Marquis almost as soon as they met. The boxer watched as the dogs receded into the woods and continued heading down the familiar path.
Without warning, Marquis broke from Janice's grip, wrenching the leash from her hands and running at break-neck speed towards a clump of bushes. Janice followed, her tits flopping wildly as her slim legs pumped to keep up with the racing dog. Marquis disappeared into the dense thicket and Janice heard a growling and gnashing of dog teeth. She approached the bushes carefully, not wanting to get caught in the midst of a savage dog fight. Over the green shrubbery, she saw Marquis trying to mount another dog. A pack of dogs walked in circles around them, sniffing and whimpering as Marquis climbed into action.
"Come back here... Marquis... down boy... leave that dog alone." Janice tried to verbally break it up, but Marquis, after giving her one forlorn look continued his canine attack. He couldn't be dissuaded from the effort and Janice wasn't about to step into that prowling dog pack. She watched from a distance as Marquis masterfully mounted the bitch and quickly pumped his hard cock into her dog cunt. Janice watched, pleased that her dog proved so virile in his own world as well as hers. With a series of short quick stabs the dog shot his load, thumping against the heated female. Soon he slipped out and lapped and sniffed at his own deposit.
The female galloped off, and the dog pack followed. As Janice saw this happen, she tailed frantic that Marquis might join the parade. Too late! He leapt after the bitch and trailing his leash, was off on a dog cunt hunt. Janice followed the howling animals, hoping to catch Marquis at the next resting, fucking spot. They disappeared around a grassy bend, their yelping voices carrying to Janice's worried mind. The distance between them increased rapidly as Janice's body tired quickly. Soon she could barely tell where they were. She trained her auditory system to pick up clues and kept going in the general direction of the dogs.
After a short run she sensed she was near them. She hurried again, hearing the cars, realizing that they were nearing a busy thoroughfare. As she reached the edge of the park she saw the pack scurrying across the road. The bitch was leading and the rest of the dogs lumbered after her. Janice spotted Marquis and saw him reach the other grassy bank. Her heart quieted as she knew now that he was safe. Suddenly, a car entangled the long trailing leash and Marquis gave out a terrible cry. His head snapped back and fell straight down. The car screeched to a halt, but it was too late. The dog had collapsed as blood poured from his broken neck.
By the time Janice reached the scene and accepted the fact of his death, the driver was shaking his head, muttering about it not being his fault, and what a freaky accident, and on and on, trying to wipe out the guilt he must have felt about the dog's strangulation.
Janice got close enough to see that her dog-lover was really dead. Then, seeing no sense in staying, or claiming the dead body, she slowly walked back into the park. She was alone now, her gentle animal friend and lover taken from her, just as she had seen so many dogs killed as a child. Alone and silent she walked back to the bridal path, found a bench and sat, trying to sort out her frenzied emotions.
The shock had been terrible for her and her mind nearly snapped from the strain. She must have sat for hours, silent, trying to grasp some semblance of meaning in the sudden act of death. All she could bring herself to remember were the good times she and the dog had enjoyed. She couldn't even really believe that the accident had really happened. Her mind went blank every time she tried to focus in on the dead dog's twisted neck and the red blood spurting from the still warm body.
The strong animal smell snapped her back from her daydream. She sat up and saw a horse, happily sniffing her perfume, on his back a rather attractive stocky man.
"Pardon me Miss, but I've been riding for about an hour now and couldn't help notice you sitting here all this time. Anything wrong? Carlo and I wondered if we could be of any assistance?" He patted the horse's mane as a way of introducing the beast, and dismounted.
Janice looked up again, blinking her eyes to shut out her death wish. "No... I mean yes... I mean... " She laughed at her own mixed up thoughts, the smile coming over her face in spite of her state of mind.
"What I mean is I really don't know what to do... I just lost a very dear friend... a dog... he was really my closest friend... I had him from when he was a puppy... " She looked up at the kind faced man, her eyes filling with the first tears since the accident. The welcome release came, shaking her body as she covered her face in her hands, freeing her pent up emotions. The man sat next to her, silent, holding the horse's reins. Then Janice was against him, her face buried in his shoulder, needing someone to cry on, glad for the chance to let herself explode.
The man gently stroked her hair, trying to calm her and at the same time glad she was able to free herself in this manner. He had watched her for some time and had easily noted her strange pent up tension. He was sure this crying jag was the best thing for her and would set her frantic mind at ease. The horse nuzzled up to Janice, sticking his long snout into the girl's lap.
Janice felt the stallion's presence and shifted in her seat, leaning back from the kind man. She wiped her tears and blew her nose heartily on the offered handkerchief. A smile of gratitude worked through her tear stained face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burst apart like mat. It's just... that well... " He cut her off.
"You don't have to explain to me. I know how hard it is to lose something very dear to you. Crying about it sometimes sets the world in a better light, too. You'll have to pardon Carlo's butting in. It's his little way of showing you that he understands your feelings, too."
Janice looked at the horse, a sleek black and brown stud. Two sad eyes peered at her from beneath the horse's heavy eyelids and she patted the close by nose with an affectionate tap, signaling her gratitude to the animal.
"He seems like a smart animal. Have you had him long?" Janice felt better talking about something other than her departed Marquis.
"Oh about three years now. He has become a very close friend. Very close indeed." The man's eye had a strange look and Janice tried to interpret it but before her thoughts gelled, he began speaking again.
"My name is Ken Robbins. If you'd care to join me in a drink, perhaps I can cheer you up a bit. I'm willing to try if you are." His blue eyes sparkled, and Janice found it impossible to refuse. Maybe he was right... it just might help her forget the tragedy.
They walked the horse back to the park stables where he was kept during the week, while Ken was at work. Weekends he was loaded into a horse trailer and transported back to Ken's country home, about sixty miles north of town. There, Ken rode most of the weekend, camping out whenever possible. During the work week he made it a habit or riding at least once a day for about an hour.
Janice was grateful that Ken talked all the way to the stable. His informative chatter gave her mind a chance to get off the morbid death trip. She was pleased to hear of the close man-horse relationship, and although sometimes Ken spoke like there might be something more then just a horseman-riding game between the man and the beast, she wasn't ever able to pin any definite thoughts on it.
The horse was secured for the night and Ken offered to take Janice for a drink and dinner. Janice begged to be allowed to change, and a chance to freshen up after her crying fit. Soon they had made their way to Janice's apartment, and she vanished into the bedroom to change, while Ken nosed around the apartment, browsing through her book shelf and noting the excess of doggy toys and belongings. Obviously the dead dog had been very pampered.
The restaurant was pleasant and the drinks refreshing. Before the meal was finished, Janice had told Ken the more innocent details of her relationship with Marquis, and the events that led to his untimely death. Ken was truly sorry about it, but his high spirited good humor kept Janice from falling back into a morose frame of mind. They danced to the small orchestra and had a gay old time before leaving.
Ken invited Janice to his apartment for a night-cap but Janice refused, saying that although he had really brightened her outlook, she still felt sad enough at the loss to want some more time alone. Understanding completely, Ken drove her home and left her to her memories. He promised to call soon.
Janice sighed as she entered the apartment and turned on the light. Marquis' things brought back the dog's missing form with a brutal thud. All around her were the remnants of their great love. Weary with an inner pain, tears starting again, she walked methodically about the three rooms, piling all the dog goodies in a heap to be discarded. As soon as the load was ready, she made trip after trip to the incinerator chute in the hallway. She listened as the last bit of Marquis' belongings slid out of sight, consigned to the furnace below. A blast of hot air hit her as she closed the chute door with a final clang.
She had decided to forget the dog and begin a new life. Perhaps it was better this way. Maybe she really needed a new slant on things. Already she had met one attractive man. Her new life would be made up of many more wonderful male friends. Oh, she knew she would have a hard time forgetting Marquis' wonderful faithful qualities, but if she chose her human friends carefully she figured she would be able to provide herself with a well rounded existence. One where she could get a modicum of sexual pleasure as well as emotional joy.
She hit the bed and was soon asleep. All through the night she dreamt of dogs. They ran about her, different sizes and shapes. It was as if all the dogs she had ever seen were paying a final tribute to Marquis. Then towards the end of the dream the images started to change. First the dogs' faces became scarred and torn. Their necks were shattered by cars, one after the other. Janice tossed violently on the bed, nearly awakening, her lips forming words of terror. Then the dogs melted and were replaced by pleasant faced horses, sniffing and walking proudly back and forth, their strong bodies glistening under special oils. She rode the horses as they began to fly. Below her were dead dogs, but finally the flight carried her out of range, where the stench of death no longer reached her, where the fields below were green and gold, flecked with blue streams and lakes.
Finally the dream ended as the horse set her down gently, pawing the earth with its hoof, and whinnying as if to tell her something. A phone rang somewhere, and Janice looked around in the dream but could not connect it up. Then her mind somehow realized the ringing came from outside the dream and woke her up; It was daylight and the ringing persisted. As she grabbed the phone and spoke a sleepy hello, she turned her alarm clock to her, seeing that it was well past ten o'clock. It was Ken, calling like he had promised.
Janice shook the sleep from her head and paid attention. He rambled on a bit about being in the office and about to go into a meeting, but just wanted to say hello and invite her to his country house for the weekend. It would be a quiet place, where she could relax, do some riding if she wanted and simply unwind.
Even in her half asleep state she knew her answer. This would be the start of her new life. She purred her approval into the phone, her soft voice filling the conversation with sensual overtones. Janice stretched, feeling her young body awaken as the conversation ended with a firm promise by Ken to see her at five o'clock on Friday.
The rest of the week flew by as Janice busied herself reading science fiction and looking at picture books about horses. She even managed a trip to the natural science museum and checked into their historical background. Too bad Roger was not around to give her all those 'Important' details. She was out to make an impression and wanted to be ready. By Friday she knew enough to get by with a sense of knowledge, and figured her natural talents would have to carry her through. Not that she doubted that they could do the job.
Friday at five came, and Ken was right on time. Naturally, Janice pleaded for time to fix her makeup and when she appeared from the bathroom Ken decided it had been well worth the fifteen minute wait. She was dazzling in an emerald-green mini-skirt and brilliant blue and green striped jersey top. The tight fabric of her blouse cupped her round breasts and since she wore no bra, the outlines of her nipples traced indelible marks on the material. Ken watched her entire body sway as she crossed to him, her hand outstretched in greeting. He kissed it, trying to think of an adequate sentence. Her whole appearance was simply ravishing and Ken felt his cock move beneath his pants.
Ken carried her overnight bag and Janice managed with a light jacket for the night air. Soon they were speeding out of the city in the fast convertible, the horse trailer hitched behind, heading for Ken's country place. He explained that it was not really much of a house, just a place where he usually went whenever he could to rough it for a while and get a chance to 'commune with nature'. He loved the outdoors, having been raised in the New England countryside. The city had always meant work and money to him, while the country meant play and relaxation. Ken was a strong believer in play.
Janice relaxed as they crossed the county line, the city smog and dirt falling behind. Ahead, in the failing light, she could make out the outlines of the rolling mountains. She looked forward to this quiet retreat, one which she felt sure would give her a new direction to follow.
Ken drove well, keeping just below the speed limit, the trailer making him take the curves carefully. He constantly checked the rear-view mirror to see if the horse trailer was still there. Now and then his eyes traveled over to Janice who sat quietly enjoying the scenery. Her skirt was high on her lush thighs, revealing the edges of her pink nylon panties. If Ken could have looked carefully he would have noted a few wisps of pubic hair sneaking out under the rubberized edge. Janice's proud tits sat straight from her chest like two melons ripe for plucking. She felt his look and smiled at him, letting her eyes drop casually to his lap, seeing the bulge that made itself evident. The weekend should prove to be enjoyable. Janice relaxed again, wiggling once before closing her eyes to sleep away the miles.
The car stopped. Janice awoke to find they had arrived. The country place was really deep in the woods. They were completely surrounded by dark forest and she could not see beyond the range of the car's headlights.
Janice had forgotten how beautiful a star-lit sky was, but all her childhood memories of summer nights sleeping in the yard came back as Ken led her to the house. The sky was covered with white dots, the milky way a broad carpet above them.
The house was more like a log cabin, but spacious and rather charming in its rough way. Exposed beams and a giant stone front fireplace lent the place a quality of old time solidity that appealed to Janice. While Ken secured the horse, she prowled around and managed to start a fire in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the chilly house. By the time Ken returned a comfortable blaze burned in the fireplace and Janice had managed to prepare two stiff drinks.
They toasted the weekend and took steady belts of liquor. Janice felt the burning pass between her breasts and work down into her hungry stomach. It hit like a ton of lead, and a noticeable wooziness passed into her brain. After a few more shots she was feeling no pain. When Ken walked to her and took her pretty face in his hands, kissing her softly on the lips, she was glad he was there. The liquor and his manly presence helped drive recurring thoughts of poor dead Marquis from her mind.
Her face still betrayed her memories, and Ken, catching her sad wistful sighs, tried to persuade her that from now on she would begin a new life.
"Listen Janice, I've got a confession to make. I had a definite purpose in mind when I asked you here this weekend. I want to let you explore a new sort of experience, one which has given me great pleasure over the years, and which I am sure will make you feel reborn." Ken smiled at her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.
Janice looked up quizzically. "What do you have in mind? I really need some diversion, Ken. I try to keep my dog from popping into my mind, but every few minutes I can see him. I think if I don't get rid of his face I'll go mad. Marquis and I had a very special kind of relationship... one few persons would understand." Janice dropped her eyes, hoping Ken would not think to harshly of her.
"You see, we were lovers!" She said it emphatically, proud of her past relationship, not wishing to hide anything from Ken. The liquor helped spin the information from her mouth.
Ken smiled at her. "I know, Janice... I know. I spotted the signs when I was at your place. I know how much the dog must have meant to you. But now he is gone. You must start forming new relationships. That's why I brought you here. I so want to share my own lover with you... to make you happy."
Janice started... what did he mean... his lover? Then it all made sense. Of course! He meant the horse... Carlo. She took a large gulp of her drink. The thought of making love to a horse was something that had never crossed her mind. Now that it was proposed, the idea sounded rather intriguing.
Ken continued, "I think you and Carlo... I can see by your expression that you caught on right away... Well, I think you two will get along famously. He's very gentle, and I've trained him since he was a young colt. Much the same as I expect you did with Marquis. Would you Like to sec him in action?
Janice laughed self-consciously, but nodded her tipsy head. Ken found a high powered flashlight and led Janice out of the house, toward the nearby stables. Once they were within twenty feet, the horse began making noises. It was as if he was talking to them. Janice thought he was reacting much like Marquis used to when she would return home after a day at work. The horse snuffled and whinnied a bit, increasing his agitation as the pair approached.
Ken flipped on an inside light and turned oft the search-light. Carlo was standing in a roomy box stall, his head over the wooden barrier, watching the man and woman. Ken approached the equine and patted his nose. The horse blew air through his large teeth. Janice looked at the large beast, imagining the enormity of his sexual organ.
Ken seemed to read her thoughts again. "If you'll pardon my language, his cock is tremendous. It's long and shiny once it becomes aroused, and as you can imagine, he gets quite spirited when his prick is fondled. Watch."
Ken moved to the back of the stall, stepping inside and reaching for the horse's prick. Like Marquis, it was hidden inside a protective sheath until Ken rubbed a few times, when it began to enlarge and poke out, bright and sparkling in the stable light.
Janice watched, rooted to her spot. Inside a feeling began crawling along her spinal cord. As she watched the horse prick grow to an enlarged state, her loins quivered slightly, sending the first flow of lubrication through her box. She clamped her thighs tightly together, working her leg and pussy muscles at the same time, wanting the good rich feeling to spread rapidly over her liquor soaked body. Her eyes were glued to the animal's long prick as Ken's experienced hands drew it to full erection.
Carlo shuffled inside the stall, his hoofs digging into the turf that covered the stable floor. His flanks shuddered as he let loose with a long whinny, feeling the good hands stroke over his member. All this time Ken was talking softly to the horse, telling him what a good boy he was, how strong and smart he was, and how tonight he was going to introduce him to a special friend.
Janice shifted her gaze to Ken's pants. Beneath his zipper a bulge began to appear, pushing at the trousers for a quick release. Janice felt her own body react and decided to join in the action. She placed her liquor glass on the stable floor and slipped into the stall, next to Ken. Soon she had uncased the human cock, and began stroking the hard flesh. All the while her eyes became more and more engrossed in the animal cock that floated higher beneath the stallion's belly. Ken smiled down at her and his crooked grin sent shivers of expectancy through her ripe figure. She knew that Ken would try to hook her up with that wonderful beast, and although she was anxious to attempt the liaison, her stomach churned at the enormous undertaking that would be involved in making love to that horse cock.
Ken freed one hand from the horse's tool and stroked Janice's breasts, bringing a quick response of lust from that hot body. Janice had abandoned herself to the game, the liquor having loosened any possible inhibitions. When Ken directed her hand to the long horse pole, she put up no resistance and was pleased to feel the strong flesh beneath her working fingers. Now she pulled on two different pricks with two different hands and her own sex drive multiplied as she increased her action.
Ken sensed her state and moved back from her, letting his hard penis flap in the summer air. He then moved in back of Janice and clasped both hands over her tits, crushing the mellow flesh beneath her jersey top. Janice's nipples were hard against his palms and she threw her head back, giving it to Ken's sucking mouth. Rapidly her hands pulsed over the horse's cock, feeling the long hose reach its full length. Ken suddenly dove onto his knees and shoved his head beneath her short skirt, ending up with his mouth on her ass, licking around her panties, while his fingers pulled at the elastic band.
Soon she was able to step from the panties, and Ken probed at her steaming twat with long hard fingers. Janice spread her legs wide, letting him enter her sacred region as her own fingers twirled about the horse's prick tip. She managed to insert a small finger in the front hole, and Carlo reacted by blowing more air through his crooked teeth. Inside her cunt, Janice felt the first blast of come. It shot like a dart, stabbing through her soft walls, pounding like a sea of white foam. She writhed on the spot, knowing this was only the first of many loads to come.
Her mind reeled as she snuggled up closer to the horse. No longer was her head filled with dog images. Now they had been replaced by giant fucking horses, with naked men and women astride. The dream animals climbed each other's backs, mounting their enormous cocks in one another while the girls and boys kissed and spurted their own come. The vision made the drunk woman nearly collapse. Her knees went weak, but Ken propped her up with his hands and head beneath her white fleshed crotch. He slid under her, positioning himself so that he could readily reach her soaked cunt with his tongue. Slowly he wormed the prodding tongue into her twat, tasting the sticky cream that lined Janice's pussy. The smell and flavor drove him on, making his working tongue seem like an integral part of her body. Janice felt the slimy appendage doing a job on her and with her eyes shut she moved even closer to the horse's prick.
She inched her way towards the head of the animal, coming to a stop in a good position to bend to the equine's cock. Quickly, she shoveled a good deal of the prick into her mouth and sucked heartily. Her cheeks puffed out from the gigantic presence, and as she tilted back to accept the tool, she felt yet another stream of come make way between her loins. The heat of the climax tore into her, making a reckless woman of her, telling her to suck harder on the horse's staff. Ken still shoveled the come from her box with his tongue, and Janice tried to fit even more of the charger's hose into her overfilled mouth.
Now Ken reached for his own exposed pole, shaking it wildly as he felt the sperm work higher along his penis. He gasped twice as the orgasm shook him, sending the spill high into the air. He squirmed in the sawdust and grass, still sucking on the woman's cunt.
Janice felt better now than in any of the best love-making sessions she had had with Marquis. Here she was with an enormous cock to suck, while a gentle male worked over her slit, drawing all the goodness from that crack, letting it drip into his mouth while he burst his own bounds beneath her. What a show. Janice knew this was the start of a new interest in life. Now to finish off the horse's urge.
She moved herself even further under the horse's belly, giving her an even better shot at the cock. Moving back and forth, she quickly sucked on the dong, feeling the quivering horse flesh knock about in her mouth. Her teeth rasped against the hard pole. Her breath spurted in short pants, matching the increasingly rapid releases of air that Carlo gave forth. The horse was terribly excited and began moving back and forth in the stall, making Janice struggle to keep the warm flesh in her mouth. Under her, Ken still stabbed at her cunt, using his hands to probe her tight asshole while Janice's hands busied themselves with the horse's balls. She strummed across the leathery pouches, feeling them droop and rise as she played with them.
Carlo seemed happy and moved his heavy body in a quickening rhythm. It seemed like he was now trying to climb the stable wall, to get in a fucking position. Janice moved with him, and Ken crawled in the dirt, trying desperately to keep up with the traveling erotic scene. The horse reached the short wall at the stable's end and with a mighty effort threw his front legs over the barrier. Now Janice straightened herself against the wooden wall, feeling the obstacle bracing her back. The cock moved smoothly in her lips, stabbing way back in her throat. It was all she could do to keep from choking on the giant rod. Ken was stretched out on the floor, his limp cock dripping come while his hands reached up to drive more come from Janice's cunt.
Pumping hard, Janice felt a glimmer of movement in the horse's cock. She braced herself for the stream of come, and stood ram-rod stiff against the boards. Carlo neighed loud and clear and began shooting his sperm. The woman swallowed, feeling the flow thicken with each jerking motion. The horse pumped. Janice felt the cock dig deeper. She jumped back. There was nowhere to go. She was trapped. The horse spurted again and again, driving the girl into the wall, filling her constricted throat with meat and come. Janice choked, feeling the cream shut out all oxygen. She pulled her head back but the horse followed her, not giving her room to move. She tried to scream, sensing the horrible truth about her predicament. She twisted but was trapped as the horse slammed her hard against the barrier, sending even more sperm into her full throat. No sounds came from the woman as she felt her brain reel with the animal's sexual fury.
Choking, she coughed inside, pushing phlegm up to further complicate the problem. Ken was blissfully unaware of the problem and by now his cock had regained an erect state. He pumped even harder into the girl's box, driving his fingers deep into the crevice, trying to skim more cream from the sucking girl.
Janice, meanwhile, was near the end. The horse's cock was deeper than ever in her throat, the come still dripping onto her lungs, coating her passages with death dealing liquid. Her brain, cut off from oxygen already began to cloud. Her visions of horses were gone, replaced by dark masses, closing in on her nude body. Carlo clattered against the wall, his orgasm passing its height, still pushing his hard tool into the enmeshed woman. Janice lost feeling in her fingers. Her hands dropped from the animal, as her arms lost their sense. Rapidly the lack of air drove all feeling from her trapped body. Finally, pinned to the wall by the still spurting beast, she lost all consciousness. Carlo pumped furiously, feeling the lack of action on Janice's part. With each leap, he drove the spirit of Life further from her body.
Soon it was over, and the horse relaxed. Ken felt the motion stop and moved to help Janice. When he reached the girl's face he realized she was dead. The horse's cock still hung from her lips, but Janice's eyes were rolled back in her head and a look of choked horror was spread over the pretty woman. Ken managed to get Carlo down from the wall, and free Janice from under the tired beast. He lay her on the stable floor, trying to revive her with artificial respiration. He used mouth to mouth resuscitation for about twenty-five minutes, the horse's sperm floating into his mouth with almost every intake of air from her quiet lungs. It was to no avail, and all that remained to do was call the ambulance, which he did.
CASE THREE - UNIFORM FREAKS
Gladys, Claudia and Mary stood in the large crowd watching the on-going parade. The streets were filled with marching soldiers and music-making bands. Around them, flags fluttered from windows and little boys' hands, while the order of march continued straight down the avenue. The annual Veterans' Day Parade was an event the three teenagers had been waiting for expectantly since the parade route had been announced in the local press.
Sparkling in their clean, pressed uniforms, the troops marched on, saluting the large flag that draped over the reviewing stand. The girls watched from their nearby vantage point, one they had secured early in the morning, having come prepared for the full day's events. Line after line of marchers passed, stepping in time to the marshal music, feeling the pulse of the kettle drums as they displayed their precision marching techniques.
The girls watched, silent and reverent as the crack units came into view. The green uniforms dazzled them in the bright sun, sending sparkles of silver and gold into the air as they trooped by. On command they paused in front of the reviewing stand, their bodies erect and ready for the trick movements they had rehearsed long hours. They stood at parade rest, their feet spread wide, their hands behind them, clasped together.
Gladys peered at the closest soldier, her eyes glancing at his face, then caught by the overpowering image his uniform presented. Helplessly caught in the uniform's magic, she allowed her eyes to travel down resting them on the point where the two sharp pants creases met, that point where the soldier's manhood would be found. The crotch was flat, and Gladys shifted her eyes away, somewhat disappointed at not finding a proper bulge.
Her green eyes flitted over the line of strutting soldiers, watching them whirl through their precision maneuvers, stepping off the intricate patterns as the drill instructor barked his tough commands. She smiled at the nearest soldier; but receiving no response from his emotionless face, she turned to her two enthralled companions.
"Beautiful uniforms. I'd love to get at that big one in the center." She pointed a slim finger at the turning soldier who stood about half a head above the rank and file. His piercing eyes looked straight ahead as he went through his paces. Not a glimmer of emotion passed over any of the troops, their steely faces rigid in concentration. Not for an instant did they betray the fact that they were performing for the large holiday crowd. They could as well have been parading back in the Army fort.
Claudia bent closer to Gladys, whispering into her shell-like ear.
"I like the dark one up front." The object of her admiration was a swarthy soldier who kept pace with his uniformed comrades as they completed their steps and moved on, the music picking up a straight marching beat again.
"I can't take much more of these wonderful uniforms!" Mary hissed the words, her frustration rising to the surface. She bent to her purse and removed a picture of an Army general, resplendent in his regalia. Passing the photograph to her girlfriends, she turned her attention momentarily back to the parade route. The others looked solemnly at the picture, feeling their emotions flutter to the surface as the handsome general stared from the old wrinkled paper.
Mary had been the guardian of this treasure for about three years; ever since the three girls had become close friends in school. Soon after meeting, they had discovered a mutual interest in uniformed men and everything the perfectly pleated, creased and cleaned clothing represented.
Since that day, the girls had met regularly to collect and share various pictures concerning uniforms and the men who wore them. Strangely enough they had an intense dislike for uniformed women and whenever they saw a policewoman or a WAC on the streets they made hideous faces and gestures to one another, showing their strong repugnance at the sight. On the other hand, whenever they ran across a uniformed male, their hearts would flutter in a rapid succession of sexual imagery.
They formed a secret club, dedicated to the proposition that all uniformed men were to be sought out whenever possible, and that they would offer their young bodies to the men who wore such splendid dress. After their initial session, they began planning to meet and seduce likely uniformed men. Night after night, during vacations they wandered by the servicemen's bars, hoping to run into uniformed men ready to fulfill their growing erotic fantasies.
Only uniformed men adequately met their sensual desires. Whenever their classmates asked them for dates, they were spurned immediately, with a clear showing of disgust at the prospect of being seen with a civilian-dressed man.
After a few unsuccessful attempts to corral a willing soldier, they turned their attentions to other types of uniformed men, their fetish driving them to seek gratification where they could find it. Their hot eyes searched bus drivers and postmen; Salvation Army workers and firemen. Months passed with still no success in the seductive arts. Whenever they would approach a uniformed man, they made such a squealing approach, their teenage giggles sounding in the street, the object of their admiration became scared off. Obviously they were below the age of consent and it was a rare man, uniformed or not, who wanted to get tied up with a rape suit.
Finally, they succeeded in making a score. One night, two summers ago, after six months of frustration they saw an article in a local paper about an important general who was to visit the city. Mary brought the picture to the next club meeting and the three girls decided to try a new approach. They pinned the handsome general's pose on the wall and paraded in front of it, showing off their growing bodies, as if the picture were the real thing. One by one they made obscene gestures, shoving their pert breasts and tight pelvic sections at the admired photograph. They called to the imaginary lover, using all the street slang they could summon, working themselves into a state of sexual frenzy.
Mary became overwrought with emotion. She ran to the picture and caressed it; rained kisses on the newsprint, and massaged the paper with her sharp nails. Then she began rubbing her body against the wall, feeling her nipples expand under the exerted pressure. Her tits seemed to unfold as she continued the action, bringing the hard tips to an excited state of erection. Staring at the general's visage, she began rubbing her apple-sized tits, squeezing the firm flesh as she dug her nails into the soft bulges. She was silent, her full attention riveted to the general's picture, her body beginning to respond to her sexual foray.
The other girls watched, feeling their own heat rise as Mary led her fantasy attack on the uniformed figure. Mary stripped her blouse off, leaving her bra, hiking those young globes into full view. Even now the air in the room had become heavy with the musky odor of sex. The females were sweating and giving off wonderful sensual smells. Each intake of air drove the delicious odor further into Mary's brain, sent it reeling through her sensory organs, making it dive deep into her damp crevice. The aroma became stronger as Mary stepped from her skirt and panties, revealing her naked loins to the gasping girls.
Claudia stepped toward the frantic girl, but Gladys restrained her, leaving Mary alone in the middle of the floor to dance her erotic steps. Her bra still covered those fleshy mounds, and Mary teased the photo, moving closer and then retreating, throwing her almost naked body at the general's image. Then, with an almost brutal movement she flung the bra at the picture, letting her beautiful tits fly into view. Claudia moved again, this time making her way to the girl.
As Mary massaged her tits again, Claudia moved into action, kneading the exposed thighs and round ass of the struggling youngster. Mary gave her flesh over to her playmate, all the while keeping her head inclined toward that general, inching closer to him as her passion climbed higher inside.
Claudia shifted her flying fingers to Mary's muff, and began twirling them amidst the pubic hairs that fluttered between the young thighs. Her own crotch felt heavy with dew and without even touching them, she knew her nipples were hard as rocks, waiting for some one to pinch and squeeze sexual life into them. Mary had approached to within a few feet of the picture and squatted, flaring her fleshy thighs wide open. Claudia touched two fingers to the wide twat, pressing beyond the outer lips, pushing for entrance to that steaming hole. Mary felt Claudia's advances making way inside her and began smiling at the uniformed figure. Her heart leaped as her mind imagined him doing these wonderful things to her willing body. Now she reached her arms up in supplication to his image, wanting him to climb into her life from his posted spot on the wall, wanting to clasp him to her and feel his correct uniform rubbing over her bare surfaces. Her lips invited him to explore her cunt, her tits, her ass, every part of her yielding form.
Mary called again and again to the picture. Gladys moved closer to the two girls and slowly began stripping her own clothes. Piece by piece she discarded the restricting garments, tossing them aside. Her figure was more mature than those of her girl friends. Her bushy crotch was sopping wet and her pendulous breasts swung like ripe melons as she made her way to the entwined girls. As she reached them, Gladys touched Claudia, helping her to slip from her tight covering. Soon all three were naked and beginning their earnest adulation of their bodies in front of the divine picture of the uniformed general.
Mary still held her peak of passion, reaching her fingers for the paper face, while Claudia worked at her cunt, spinning her fingers in the gooey pie. She was on the floor, stretched out, her lees high against her chest, while she rubbed furiously at Mary's cunt. Mary still squatted, her arms upraised like a praying Hindu before her god the uniform.
Gladys joined the fray, delving into Claudia's wet fur piece with her long tongue. That action made Claudia shiver and begin pounding deeper into Mary's young crotch. Mary shivered in turn, her eyes showing the ecstasy her body felt. Her pupils were dilated as she sensed her come begin to journey up from deep within. Her cream rose swiftly now, taking her by storm. Her mouth sucked at the air, gulping it in as her tits twitched and her cunt shimmied under the force of the orgasm. Around her the two girls played on, while Mary screamed her heavenly praise.
"Oh my... yes... make it come... more... make it come... look... I'm coming for... for the uniform... I love it... I love it Her voice trailed off in a series of unintelligible gurgles as the stream of wet liquid spurted into her hole, drowning Claudia's fingers in the damp whiteness. Mary's love lotion still dripped while her hands covered her tits. The nipples pulsed beneath the caress and soon another shock of come sped through her sticky pussy. She shimmied over Claudia's knowing fingers sensing the vibrations they caused within, knowing that soon her exhausted body would have to relax. But now all she wanted was more good cream. All the time she felt Claudia's hard fingers trapped in her moist crack she thought of the Army man suspended from the wall, gazing in his perfect uniform. She wanted him so badly. She screwed herself down again, hitting the third joint of Claudia's fingers, where they met her hand, and felt the full pressure of those tilting rods as they frolicked amidst her streaming soft spots. Her clit was like a hard knob, pushing at the rubbing hand, urging Claudia to pluck at it. Then Claudia's other hand joined it, picking up the hint, making the clitoris the butt of her attentions. Now together the two hands sent Mary into a new frenzy of action.
While Mary squirmed in obedience to Claudia's ministrations, Gladys obviously was enjoying her own sexual activities. Her tongue was buried in Claudia's slimy cunt while her hands made circles of masturbatory action in her own loins. She built up from a slow pace, climbing in rhythm as her passion pushed higher in her body. Claudia's damp pit tasted good, the love juices filtering over Gladys' tongue as she strove to duplicate her own feelings. She closed her eyes, imagining a strong hard man in an indistinct uniform hovering over her, planting welcome kisses on her stomach and breasts, smothering her face with his maleness, digging deep into her cunt with those manicured hands she knew he had to have. Her own hands copied the imaginary movements and taught her pussy new lessons in the ancient way. Time and again she slipped her fingers in and out, turning them from side to side, wrapping them around her taut clit, plunging back into the moist recess, while her tongue dug deeper into Claudia's rich loins.
Claudia was caught in the middle of this wonderful sea of flesh. Her emotions were strung out like on a rope clothes-line. She had heard Mary's screams of joy and felt the rich fluid burst over her fingers like a giant wave. Now her own box was being twiddled with by the probing tongue of her close friend. Her tits flopped madly against her chest while she strained to control her heated movements. She had wanted to direct her movements, insuring the proper height of passion she swept to a glorious orgasm. Now she was not sure she could keep tabs on the action within her body. Gladys' tongue whirled deeper into her hot box, while Mary's moans rose and fell like a totally enraptured woman. The picture of the general spun as she lifted her eyes to it. It seemed to shift and float off the wall towards her, the ribbons and medals swooping low over her body as she struggled to keep the hallucination away. It was no good; it forced itself upon her, and pushed inside her head with increasing pressure, blocking her functioning, making her forget her plan of controlled response.
Now Claudia relaxed her guard, letting her body flow with the increasing tension she felt inside her loins. The taste of sex flooded her mind, closing in as soon as the general slipped past her head into her heart. Now the thirst built, sending hot flashes of need into her hands. She cupped Mary's ass, squeezing those lovely flanks as her insides were becoming heated to the melting point. Gladys' tongue made a tattoo of eroticism inside her, passing wet passion into the base of her stomach. Her bush seemed to come alive, the hairs standing straight, filled with static electricity. Goose bumps clustered up and down her back, sending shivers along her spine.
Her passion seemed to electrify the room as she pushed herself hard against Gladys' tongue, feeling the girl's nose slip into her cunt alongside the straining tongue. The nose rubbed her clit making even additional wet globs of lubrication fill the slit. Claudia knew her peak was approaching. She felt the warm stirrings of her thick liquids, knowing that with a few more strokes her passion filled river would be liberated.
Gladys felt the shift in tempo as Claudia pressed her thighs down hard on her face. Her tongue still did in and out slowly, building the pace, while her hands fashioned a personal heaven between her thighs. Above her, Claudia squirmed with increasing urgency and Gladys knew she had to shift her full attention to that meaty hole. Her nose shook inside the crack, rubbing against the hard clit, while her tongue caressed the softer recesses of that dark crevice. The chasm opened and closed while Gladys filled it with her probing tongue. Claudia turned her attentions to her cunt muscles and made them twitch, pulling them tight around the squirming tongue while her hands still poked at Mary's ass.
Unexpectedly, Mary tore away from her grip and ran to the wall, flinging her shaking body against it, as if fucking the general's photo. Come seeped from Mary's cunt and began dripping over the white wall, falling with small splashes at the foot of the surface.
She moaned anew, trying still to make the uniformed man her own, frantically endeavoring to integrate the fantasy with reality.
"I love you... general... I love your uniform... your balls, your cock... I love you... " Her groans trailed off in a sea of whimpering and crying, leaving her draining her orgasm against the inanimate wall.
On the floor, Claudia watched the show, wishing the general indeed had come to life and was now fiddling at her crotch. She felt it start, the come action, deep in her pit, then move swiftly up until with one giant leap she pushed it free, made it rush over Gladys' entrapped face. She squeezed her legs tight in the throes of an ecstatic release and felt the dribbles begin in earnest. Wave after luscious wave of come screamed through her body as her mind went back and forth between her own uniform fantasy and the reality of the girl to girl contact. She saw a line of troops standing at attention, their clean crisp uniforms ready for inspection and their hard poles extending in front of them like company banners, ready for action. She was making a review of the troops and as her come careened over her velvety surfaces, she saw the troops pile onto her naked body, their immaculate uniforms giving way to hard masculine muscles, full of red tipped cocks all pointing at her open loins. Then her head spun with yet another spasm and she knew Gladys was working hard at tonguing out her insides, cleaning the squirming box with a deft motion.
Gladys, for her part loved the taste of come as it filled her cheeks. It swirled in her mouth, filling her throat with liquid warmth. Her nose was buried deep in the steaming hole along with her tongue and she gasped for air as Claudia opened and closed her legs rapidly, quaking with her orgasm. Gladys' fingers pulled at her own cunt, sending sublime spears of trembling along her legs. Her toes twitched as her hand touched her clit, making her legs shoot straight out, sensing her muscles tighten for the coming cloud burst.
As her hands made the passage wet with preliminary lubrication, she began her private rites of uniform worship. Ever since she had been a child, and her brother had worn children's army and navy clothes, she had dreamed of the day when she, too, could possess such wonderful items. Now that she was more mature, and fast becoming a full blown woman, she realized that she could only fulfill her fantasies by possessing the men who wore such divine clothes. She began to think hard and long about the general, his handsome face and stirring uniform making deep impressions on her mind as her body pushed her to the brink of sexual release. The general seemed to smile at her, his bright teeth filling his hard mouth. She saw his handsome shape take form in front of her and his hands replace her own in her pussy, pushing at her inner spots, warming to her touch. Now he was in charge, his military bearing and upbringing taking over in this demanding situation. Gladys felt secure in his hands, knowing that he must be an experienced lover. Her heart skipped as he knelt over her, the fantasy filling her every pore with a love bigger than reality.
Her box slipped into gear as her fingers kicked inside, driving a forceful motion through her veins. The blood pumped furiously, making her face pink and then red with passion. Her legs tilted up, allowing her hands more access to the wonders within. Her tongue now lapped slowly at Claudia's quietly dripping cunt, while her passion leaped over physical obstacles to merge with that of her fantasy general. Now she envisioned him above her, a tremendous hardon poised at her slit. Her clammy cunt rose to meet it and as the imaginary prick touched her outer passage, the first spasm erupted. The mushroom of come zoomed into her crack, lubricating her hungry fingers as they vaulted in the inner sanctuary.. Her clit possessed its own throbbing motion as the spasms increased, sending plush billows of cream through her opening. Her head spun between Claudia's thighs managing to claim one more orgasm from that lucky creature, while her own cunt was over-run with come.
After a series of hiccupping spasms passed through her, Gladys felt her body clamor for rest. Slowly she removed her dripping fingers, letting the fantasy general resume his place on the wall. Her tongue backed out of Claudia, her nose following suit and she wiped her face free of come on the back of her hand.
Claudia inspected her distended thighs and wiped the excess cream from her flesh. She looked at Gladys and smiled, receiving a warm reply from that happy creature. They both looked at Mary, who was still hugging the wall, her head against it, sobbing uncontrollably.
Claudia and Gladys picked themselves up and moved to comfort the crying girl. They cradled her in their arms, feeling her crying lessen, noticing her moans decreasing as the minutes passed.
"I... I wanted him to be real... I wanted to touch his uniform... just touch it, nothing else... just touch it." Another round of sobs burst from her lips, sending her shaking body against Gladys. The two girls rocked back and forth, with Claudia rubbing Mary's back, trying all she knew to calm the girl down.
"Listen Mary, you'll get your chance. He's coming to town next week. We'll get to meet him, and when we do you'll get first crack at him, I promise." Gladys looked at Mary when she spoke, hoping the promise of a future meeting would calm her down.
Mary looked at Gladys and then at Claudia, searching for confirmation. Claudia nodded her head giving Mary the needed reassurance that she would have her wish come true.
All that week the girls planned to meet the general. They watched the news media carefully, compiling any information about his coming visit; readying themselves for their big opportunity. The day before his scheduled arrival, the papers were full of pictures and stories about the general and his fabulous army career. He was going to speak at a local business meeting about the current state of defense readiness. The meeting was at the Mark John's Hotel and the girls figured that he would be staying there as well. As soon as they had heard the news they hot-footed it to the spot and cased the place out.
The lobby was busy with large signs being put up to welcome the general, and simply by strategically placing themselves near the hotel manager, whom they recognized by his name tag and lapel flower, they managed to overhear the information they had been hoping for. The general was to stay in the Presidential Suite on the twelfth floor, and he was scheduled to be there at 1 p.m. tomorrow, coming directly from the airport. The manager was concerned about getting everything just right for him, hoping that the army dignitary would find everything to his liking. They knew that he was a very precise man and liked everything just right, just a certain way. Any foul-ups and the manager would never hear the end of it. He closely supervised the whole shebang, himself.
The dinner and speech were scheduled for 7 p. m. that night. That would give the girls ample time to sneak into his room and try their planned escapade. They left the hotel certain they could pull it off. They planned on approaching the suite from the floor above, hiding themselves in a broom closet about an hour before the general was to arrive, then quietly sneaking into his room while he was relaxing after his trip. They had a few ideas of their own on how to help him relax.
The next day the girls assembled near the hotel for a last minute excited conference before boldly trying out their plan. They had dressed casually, yet in such a manner that they would not look out of place in the city's most luxurious hotel. Gladys wore a tight-fitting blouse that gave ample shape to her high tilting breasts, and a short skirt that molded her ass beneath the fabric. Her hair was hanging loose, covering her shoulders, gleaming softly in its just-washed freshness.
Mary was almost jumping with excitement, and as she moved back and forth her small tits jiggled inside her dress. The fabric covered her from the neck to about eight inches above the knees, showing plenty of nice flesh before it hid her quivering thighs. Her crotch was already wet and she told the girls, with a giggle, that she thought she had creamed at least once on the way to this place, merely by repeating the general's name to herself.
Claudia wore a jumper, made of cotton, which flared out at the waist, and swirled high on her thighs every time she turned. Her pink panties showed as she moved and the motion of the ass in those nylon undies was quite enticing. Beneath the jumper top she wore a sheer blouse, letting her arms show through the fabric. If she unbuttoned the two straps that held up the jumper, the blouse would reveal her bra-less boobs, ready for action.
Gladys made everyone repeat their plan. In case they were caught on the general's floor Mary was to pretend to be the general's niece. The other girls would swear that she was telling the truth, sure that if they were made to face the old man himself they could convince him that it was worth his while to allow them to stay.
They started off, happy in their expected dream come true. Maybe now they would finally get a man in uniform to fuck them, to make them feel like complete women. Maybe now they could begin to get some real pleasure from their; fantasy-fetish, and from a general at that. The three girls began whistling army songs as they paraded to the hotel.
Once inside the lobby they walked straight to the elevator and asked for the thirteenth floor. The elevator operator looked at them strangely and informed them in superior tones that the hotel had no thirteenth floor.
The girls became flustered, afraid they were caught before they had begun. Gladys spoke rapidly, trying to regain the initiative.
"We know that my dear man... we know that. Just a little joke. What we want is the fourteenth floor. Glad to see that you are up on your toes." Then she turned to her companions and remarked loudly enough for him to hear, how nice he looked in his uniform.
The girls agreed with Gladys and gave the elevator operator warm, inviting looks that made him turn away in embarrassment. With a final shout of "Going up," he shut the elevator doors and the foursome rose in the car. The girls continued to stare at the man's back, tracing the uniform's creases as they folded into his ass, and down his legs to his shiny shoes. Once, the man turned to them, but found them staring so intently that he blushed and turned back to face the front.
They reached the fourteenth floor and the elevator man called it out. The girls demurely thanked him, one after another, as they stepped from the car and headed down the corridor as if going to their own room. The elevator man watched them disappear around a corner and then closed the doors and descended back to the lobby.
As soon as the car was gone the girls checked the hallway for a suitable hiding place. Mary had an idea to go immediately to the General's floor and hide there. Then they would be able to sneak in quicker, with less chance of being discovered after his arrival.
The idea made sense and the girls quickly started down the stairs. When they neared the general's floor, they heard a few persons hustling about. Voices floated to them and they stopped, crouching in the stairwell, listening to what was going on.
"I'll go down and tell the manager everything is all set. You tell the wine steward to bring up the gift champagne. Tell him to close the door when he leaves, and we'll be all ready for General Eastland's arrival."
The girls waited until the voices disappeared in the distance and the elevator doors opened and closed again. Then, waiting another thirty seconds to be safe, they stealthily made their way from the stairwell. They found themselves opposite the Presidential Suite. The door was open and the Presidential seal was emblazoned on the door. Without hesitation, the girls scampered across the hall into the general's room. Looking around they decided to head for the bathroom and hide there. The wine steward was not going to leave the champagne in the John; and they figured once the door was closed behind him, they would have nothing to fear. They crossed the large entrance room and ambled through the dining area. This room was large enough for an ample banquet and the girls giggled softly as they traded jokes about eating out in the President's dining room. Next they surveyed the bedroom, noticing the large bed. Mary tested it for springiness and was happy to report it had plenty of bounce.
They headed quickly for the bathroom when they heard the elevator doors open on their floor. A man told the elevator to wait as he would be right back. Footsteps approached the general's room as the girls crouched in the bathroom.
There was some noise in the dining room and then footsteps going back through the reception hall, and the suite door closing behind the man as he left. The girls stood still, listening for the elevator door to signal their success. It came and they hugged each other, careful, even now, not to make too much noise in the empty rooms.
They had a half an hour to kill before the general arrived and they took turns using the toilet, waiting before they were all through to flush it, and then prettying their hair and faces in the mirror. Satisfied that they all looked their youthful best, they sat on the toilet seat and bathtub edge, waiting for the uniformed man to come.
Time passed slowly, with the girls trying to control their excitement by closing their eyes and listening for telltale noises from the hall. They had closed the bathroom door, and now, secreted behind it, had no choice but to wait for the man's arrival.
Then they heard a great commotion in the hall. Evidently the elevator had arrived on the floor without their hearing it, and the party of persons was heading for the Presidential Suite. The girls felt their lips go cold, their blood freeze in their veins. They were committed now, no going back. If only things would work out as planned.
The people entered the suite, and a hubbub of noises reached them. The manager was showing the general the suite, pointing out conveniences, mentioning the gift of champagne. The general answered these over-solicitous remarks with stiff responses, obviously trying to hurry the tour and get rid of the intruding manager. The manager headed for the bathroom, telling the general about the supply of hot water and fresh towels. The general stopped him before he could reach the bathroom door, and the girls sighed a breath of relief.
"Thank you, manager, for your trouble; however, I believe I can figure out the shower myself. Thank you for your trouble. Major, please show the gentleman out now. I want to rest a bit before dinner."
The manager wished him a happy stay in the city and his voice faded from the room. The general tossed his braided hat on a chair and slumped wearily into another.
The major reappeared, asking if there was any other way he could be of service. The general thanked him and told him that he could wake him at five p. m.
The major saluted and left, closing the door behind him. The girls felt their blood flow again, the old excitement beginning to creep into their loins. They listened carefully as the general discarded first one shoe and then the other. He began whistling and headed for the bathroom door. Just before he reached it he stopped and returned to the living room, where he turned on a radio, tuning until he found some soothing music.
"Ah!" he exclaimed to himself, his bass voice penetrating the girls' finely tuned hearing, "Music to shower by." He headed back towards the bathroom.
Gladys began to undress, practically ripping the clothes from her body as she motioned the others to follow her. As the general got closer to the bathroom, they all hurried out of their garments, flinging them on the tile floor. When they were naked, they climbed into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, hiding themselves from the door's line of sight.
The general had been dropping his own clothes as he approached the bathroom. At fifty-one he was still an imposing figure. He had always been in fine shape and prided himself on being able to do more than thirty push-ups a day as well as jog two miles each afternoon. His gray hair was full and thick on his head, and he had his own teeth, due to careful, meticulous dentistry and self-disciplined nightly massaging. His thighs and stomach were still rock hard and his reputation for being a tough commanding officer came as much from his physical shape as his insistence on complete devotion from his men.
Now he felt like taking a long, hot shower and then crawling into the sack for a few hours sleep. He hated these business meetings. If only those Pentagon bastards would leave him alone with their public relations chores and put him back where the action was.
He opened the door, still musing about his tired body, and not even noticing the girls' clothing scattered about the floor. He Made a bee-line for the tub, and yanked the shower curtain aside.
"Surprise!" the three girls yelled in unison as the startled officer jumped back a few feet. They outstretched their arms, wide grins covering their youthful faces.
The girls did not know it, but the one soft spot the general had was for nymphets like them. He had been married for thirty years now and his wife's sagging tired body had ceased to interest him about fifteen years ago. As he grew older, he found himself more and more interested in the younger girls. Now, after his initial shock, he carefully checked out the three figures displayed before him.
"Okay, girls, who set it up... Major Cromwell?" He smiled, showing his even teeth. He smoothed back his gray hair and stepped closer to the tub, smelling the girls' perfume as he neared their naked flesh. By itself, with only the visual stimulation to prod him, his prick began to rise.
Gladys answered for all of them. "No sir, we thought of it ourselves. You see, we knew you were coming to town today, with your uniform and all, and we wanted to make you happy... and ourselves, besides." She blushed, dropping her eyes. They landed on his cock. The head was beginning to lift at them, showing signs of turning purple-red.
The general stepped into the tub and Mary stepped back, a little afraid, now that she was faced with the reality of the man. The general reached towards her, but his hands went past her and turned on the water. He closed the shower curtain around them as the hot water squirted down at them. He adjusted the temperature, mixing cold with hot until they were all covered with a stinging spray of just right water.
"Well, no matter, girls... now that you are here... let's make the best of it... Give me the soap. Say, what are your names?"
They introduced themselves, spitting water as they spoke, and as they finished, the general began soaping their rich bodies with the lather. He worked the suds on one and then on another as they giggled and laughed beneath the water. Soon they were covered with lather; and the general had managed to work up a considerable erection while fondling them. He stuck the soap out toward the girls, inviting someone to soap him up. Mary grabbed for it, moving her body close to the soldier's. She pressed against him, letting the soap and water drip onto his lean hardness, while she worked the cake across his muscular back. His cock nestled between her thighs as she continued to cleanse his body. The general stroked her fine body, closing his eyes in the water and letting his hands wander over Mary's soft skin.
When he was completely soaped, he gently pushed Mary away and washed himself clean, letting the spray run over his entire body. Then he placed the girls one by one under the water and rinsed them, again letting his hands rub them intimately as he worked.
After that he shut the water off and stepped from the tub. The girls followed suit and soon the foursome was toweled dry and in the comfortable bedroom. The music still wafted in from the next room, while the girls raced to the general's uniform and began rubbing it, feeling the fine, neat, cloth between their fingers. They passed the front over each of them in turn, letting the fetish work them into a near-spiritual state, verging on religious ecstasy. The general watched from his bed, wide-eyed as the females continued to rub the uniform about them. They anxiously took turns with it, passing it between their thighs, covering their tits, nearly shoving it into their cunts.
"Hey... enough of that... come here... e at a time." The war-horse reclined on the bed, his pole extended high above his loins, like an oak tree from the midst of a mighty forest. Mary approached first, pushed forward by her girl-friends.
As she reached the bed the general ordered her to suck his cock. She reached for it, feeling the flesh between her hands and gobbled it, sucking the firm meat with her tender lips. She moaned softly, knowing a man's cock in her mouth for the first time. Guttural sounds escaped as she reeled under the thought of actually sucking a three star general. She remembered his uniform and his picture. It was all coming true. Her ecstasy made her work rapidly, letting the prick roll on her saliva-coated tongue, feeling it cook in her oven-like mouth, tasting the tingling cleanliness of his just washed cock. It pounded inside her mouth as the general began his movement. He pressed his thighs tight around her ears, shutting out her own sounds. Mary felt her come quicken down in her cunt. She moved up on the bed and twisted around, letting her body fall above the general's, keeping her tongue busy with the hole in the tip of his hard rod. Her thighs slowly came in contact with the officer's lips and he parted them sucking greedily on the tender cunt. Little by little he drew her cunt into his sucking jaw, seemingly turning it inside out. Mary pumped above him, driving the hot meat further inside, expecting to feel his come shoot at any moment. The man pumped regularly, lolling on the bed, letting her do most of the work. He felt himself stiffen as her mouth marched double-time over his length. He suddenly pushed her away, calling for a new body.
Mary reluctantly let go and returned to fondling the man's uniform while Claudia walked to the bed. Her passion was already in full flower, having been aroused by her foreplay with the fetish. Although she was technically a virgin, her masturbation in the past had broken through her hymen and now, her steaming cunt was ready for the mammoth cock that faced her.
The naked general ordered her huskily to climb aboard and straddle his cock. She hoisted herself up on the bed and assumed the desired position, her cunt spreading wide as the copious cock pressed against her outer hips. Then the head passed into her wet slit, and with a single daring move, he slammed the fully extended length into her. Claudia was taken by surprise as her cunt sank back onto his cock, and her eyes filled with tears. This monstrous engine filled her to bursting and she began to sob with the goodness of it all. General Eastland pumped harder now, drawing the long tool almost all the way out and then jamming it hard inside the tight pussy. It had been a while since he had fucked one as young as this and the tightness was delicious. Every inch of her small valley was clinging to his cock. There was nothing like young cunt.
The general poured it on, bringing Claudia to a surprisingly quick orgasm. The come flooded her, shaking her body violently as she swore at the man beneath her, calling him wonderful obscenities, trying to drive her passion yet another notch higher. She swirled above the steel-tipped joint as her boiling liquid gurgled inside the stuffed chasm. Again and again the man pounded her, stopping short of releasing his own wondrous load, wanting to save it for still another girl.
Mary had succeeded in coming by rubbing the uniform over her tits, while she watched the general fuck Claudia. Although he had not made her come himself, she was more than happy with using the uniform as a suitable fetish.
The general stopped short of coming and roughly pushed Claudia from him. He waved to Gladys, motioning her to the bed. The girl was ready and willing to try anything, now, her body clamoring for some sort of action. She had worked it up with the uniform and watching the two previous shows. She was glad it was her that would feel the hot male gism flow into her belly. Eagerly, she strode to the bed, her tits swinging in step as she moved. The general got off of his back and told her to get on her hands and knees in front of him. Then he placed himself directly behind her and pushed his wet cock into her asshole slit. Gladys was taken by surprise when she felt the hard top push at her rear end. She had never had more than a slim finger encased there and when the hard knob of flesh pounded at that door, her stomach tightened. The general backed up a moment and then made another attempt, placing his full weight behind the motion. He spread her cheeks with his muscular hands, and then it was in. It stopped after an inch and then he proceeded further into the dry cavern... two inches... three... then he was hard against her, his cock fully encased in her shit hole, his fingers playing with her cunt while he moved steadily back and forth. Gladys closed her eyes, weak from the near-pain that coursed through her body. The prick was bigger than anything that she had ever encountered or hoped for, and lodged deep in her asshole it made her feel like crapping. She fought down that urge and concentrated on the great feeling of sexuality that welled up in that crack. Her pussy responded to the general's prodding and showed signs of muscle spasms. The general leaned on his cock, driving it hard against her rectal walls, sliding it roughly about in her crack.
Her thighs stiffened and then relaxed as the movement spread its goodness throughout her body. Her tits flopped above the bed and she lowered herself so that the flowered tops could rub against the sheets and covers while her cunt was massaged by the hard knuckled fingers of her lover.
In a few strokes of hard muscles she was ready to climb the bedroom walls, her joy was so strong. He rested his weight on his heels, thrusting stronger with each push, until he heard her scream like a mad-woman.
"I'm coming... I'm coming... oh please fuck me beloved... fuck me harder." Gladys raised her ass and slammed it time and again against the general's crotch, feeling his balls swinging between her jiggling ass cheeks while her tits rubbed hard against the bed. Her spasm swam over the general's fingers as his own dark passage began to fill with come.
Inside her ass, Gladys felt the sudden rush of fluid. It warmed her like nothing had ever done before. It seemed to carry her dreams as it soaked into her ass. The general moaned some, himself, as he squirted his hot sperm into her yielding ass.
Together they flopped on the bed and pumped in complete unison until there was no more to be gained.
When everyone had suitably rested and it was nearing time for the dinner, the girls began getting dressed to leave. As they tidied themselves up and planted kisses of gratitude on the general's head, Gladys worked up nerve to make a request.
"General, you know we have a small collection of uniforms, and wonder if... well, if we could perhaps have some part of yours. It would certainly occupy the place of honor in our assemblage." She paused waiting for the answer.
The officer looked up from the bed, and raised one eyebrow.
"Well, since you've already managed to get some cunt stains on that rag, why not take it with you. I have another one in my suitcase and a closet full of them at the base. Enjoy yourselves." He smiled his famous grin and winked as the girls rolled up the pants and jacket with great haste. Just as they were finishing, the general looked at them and spoke again.
"One thing though... you best leave the medals and ribbons here. Those are a might harder to get than uniforms." He winked again and the girls quickly unbuckled all the medals and ribbons, pleased to have the fabric to themselves. They thanked him profusely and backed their way to the door, opening it just as the major was about to knock.
"Excuse me... Excuse me... Excuse me... " the trio stuttered as they brushed by the astonished soldier, hurrying away with their prize package.
Two summers later Mary still had the crumpled newspaper photograph with her at all times. Now, as the parade ended, she secreted the picture in her purse and began casting about for the day's likely sexual victim. The soldiers were all more relaxed now, lining up to return to their barracks, waiting for the trucks to fill and move off. Their uniforms were hot and sweaty.
They looked absolutely magnificent!
The three teenagers flaunted their bodies in front of the finely uniformed men, wanting all of their male hardness thrust at them. The G.I.'s took notice and gave out cat-calls and low whistles, remarks and laughter, trying to play with the young girls' emotions, not knowing that these particular girls were more than willing to take them up on their offers.
Sadly, as the teenagers walked slowly back and forth in front of the troop staging area, the trucks pulled away, leaving them with only the memory of those handsome men in their thrilling uniforms. Since their experience with the general, the girls had managed to collect quite a group of uniforms for their fetish assemblage. Whenever they met, preparing for a new excursion into the street, they would arouse their tender bodies by dressing in the various uniforms and frigging each other while dreaming of tough male hands sweeping them away on a sea of passion.
They had collected a uniform from each branch of the Armed Forces as well as a Fireman's outfit. They also had pieces of bus drivers' uniforms and clothing from an old tug boat captain. All of these were gathered from their sexual conquests, and while they had managed to fuck many more than this meager display of clothing would imply, they were relatively happy that they had collected a number of different uniforms. Their fantasies, while inside the clothing would allow them to assume many different masculine roles, and as they finger-fucked each other and ate one another out, they cried out orders like those that would come from the owner of their uniform. What fun they had!
The girls wandered back over the parade route, pin pointing the day's events and trying to firmly implant wonderful memories of the uniformed throngs that had gone by all day. A few hours passed, and almost before they were aware of it, darkness began creeping over the tall buildings. Slowly they began wending their way home, still somehow hopeful of capturing another soldier, but the hour was too late and the streets nearly deserted; all the holiday-enjoying families were tucked happily in their homes, getting ready for dinner. Here and there young couples walked by.
The girls approached the city park. Even though darkness was falling, and the park was reported to be a dangerous place at night, the girls decided to cross its green hills, hoping to find a helpful soldier or sailor out looking for a pickup. Stars began to appear in the twilight sky as the girls wandered about the tree-lined lanes. Everything was quiet and empty. Two bicyclists rode by, waving their arms and tooting horns as they careened past the girls.
Down by the central lake they threw stones into the water, watching the ripples form, feeling more and more depressed as the minutes of darkness spread thicker. The park lights came on, bringing pools of yellow shining onto the black asphalt.
The girls were just about ready to return home, having given up the day as a sexual loss, when Gladys spotted a blue-clad figure coming around a corner of the walkway. Quickly pointing out the policeman to the other girls, Gladys directed them to seats of a park bench under a nearby street lamp.
The night was getting chilly and the girls huddled together on the bench their legs crossed, showing lovely pink-white flesh and well-turned ankles. They watched the cop approach, ready to try their generally successful techniques for picking up men on this specimen of the city's finest.
The policeman was whistling a happy tune as he casually made his rounds.
He neared the teenagers, unaware of their presence. About fifty yards from them he stopped and buttoned the top button on his blue coat, breaking the wind that had come off the lake, he swung his hefty night-stick, tall and handsome, looking like an advertisement for recruitment to join the Police Department. As he got closer, Gladys stood and ran to him, smiling and skipping like a gay school girl. The others still sat, intently watching their friend lure the cop to their web.
"Hi, officer," called Gladys. "Nice to see you here tonight. My friends and I are here from out of town and wonder if you could talk with us for a while. We're very lost... don't know how we wandered into this big park... " Her voice trailed off, and batting her long eye lashes, she took his large hand in hers and pulled him along to the bench.
The officer went, his long legs easily keeping up with the girl's pace. He smiled warmly, his young rookie face showing signs of interest in all this lovely flesh.
"I'm Gladys and this is Mary and Claudia." The girls all bowed when introduced, acting most courteously in front of the peace officer, making him relax his guard and approach them without fear.
"Officer Galligan. How can I be of service?' He sat next to Claudia, his blue uniform rubbing lightly against her exposed thigh, sending extraordinary chills along that girl's back.
"Well... " continued Gladys, "as I was saying, we are lost. I just don't know what we should do. It was so nice of you to stop and talk with us. This is such a big city... so many people... so many buildings."
The policeman looked at the girls, watching their pretty faces, all upturned toward him, watching his eyes caress them. He obviously liked what he saw.
Claudia inched closer, pressing her hot skin against his pants legs, testing his awareness. The cop stayed where he was, and, if anything, seemed to press back.
"Oh officer, you're just what we needed. A few moments ago some awful boys almost ran us over with bikes. We just barely got out of the way. Thank you for coming along. You must be so brave." Mary let her eyes lock with the policeman's and then directed them at his lips. Her tongue darted out, licking her soft lower lip, making it glisten in the gathering night.
"Just out doing my beat, girls. Nothing special about it." The officer watched Mary, feeling a hunger crawl inside him. He braced himself, not wanting to get too involved with these youngsters. He had to be careful.
"Oh... but we were just getting very frightened and you came around that corner back there, all magnificent in your uniform... " Claudia took up the conversation, piling compliments onto the young cop. He almost blushed and twiddled with his long night-stick, nervously. The girls noticed that he wore no wedding ring.
The policeman began telling them exactly where they were, and the best way to get back to a busy down-town street. He pointed his stick and spoke of going this way or that. The girls feigned looks of innocent misunderstanding, appearing like they would never be able to follow such bewildering directions.
Gladys spoke again, "Oh... I just don't know. It's all so confusing. Could you show us?" As she finished speaking she uncrossed her long legs, managing to let a bit of her panties flare beneath the skirt. Just the nearness of that wonderful blue uniform was enough to wet her crotch.
The other girls did the same thing, and their skirts all flew up high on their luscious thighs.
His eyes focused on hers. In that flash of an instant, Mary imagined he was unzipping his pants. She could almost feel herself reaching inside, and pulling his penis out. Then, she'd drop to her knees, and gripping his legs, with one hand, she'd pull his penis toward her with the other.
Circling his pecker with her tongue she'd let it slip around its meaty head. By now, he'd be so hot he'd have to give in and ram his dick down her throat With his club still in his hand, he'd grip her head and beg her, "Suck my dick, baby- suck me!" How she'd thrill to him, as he'd ram his rod down her throat. She would shake in anticipation of the hot juice splashing down her throat.
"Oh, yes - like that ohhhh, baby, suck my cock, suck it off!"
By now, she'd pull off a little, so she could watch the saliva-slick penis pushing in and out in and out. The beautiful, hairy balls bouncing on her chin, the sweet smell of his sweaty loins and then his grunting body demanding his satisfaction.
She imagined just how he'd say it. "Go after the juice, honey - I've got a good load in my balls for you, baby - suck it out!"
And then it would come, erupting in a blinding spasm of thick, white sperm.
"Ohhhh, ahhh, yes - yes, suck that prick," he'd groan in delight as his hands would hold her tight, and she'd even feel his stick pressing down on her head.
"Do I taste good, baby - yes - yes - suck it off. Eat that prick - suck it off!"
As the hot spasm of prick-juice would flash down her throat, she'd feel satisfied at last.
And the officer would be grateful to have gotten such a first-rate blow-job.
But, then she looked at him again - it was all her desire - and not reality, a dream of sucking him off that flashed through her mind. But he read her, and his body trembled with desire. Yet he dared not let himself go - the price was too high.
Officer Galligan wet his own lips, beside himself now. He could not help the feeling that these girls stirred in him. He decided to direct them through the maze of park lanes and then resume his assigned beat.
"Come on, girls, I'll show you." He raised his tall body from the bench, embarrassed at the bulge he felt in his crotch, hoping the girls would not notice.
But, of course they did, and exchanged sly glances about it. The officer led them alongside the pond as it disappeared into the dark trees. The girls walked steadily, alongside him, keeping their bright eyes glued to his penis. The cop felt their stare, making him uncomfortable. Nervously, he fiddled with the stick some more, then realizing what he was doing, put it down at his side.
Mary asked if she could see the stick. The cop did not see what harm there could be and handed it to her. The girl stroked the hard wood as if it were a live penis - no, as if it were a sacred penis, an object of love. "This fine prick," she thought to herself, "has about it the power of total authority, a symbol of power. How good it would be to tame his stick... this representative of symbolic good. How grand it would be to place it between her legs and coax and tame it to orgasm."
She was dreaming again, and the other girls sensed her mesmerization of this piece of wood as she continued to wave it around in the air. "How beautiful it would be," she thought, "to have control over things of this nature."
She stroked the wood as if it were a prick, rubbing her fingers up and down, caressing it, making obscene gestures with it as she stabbed it into the air.
She passed it around among the girls and each one took her turn at playing with the phallic symbol. Finally, through with their obviously sexual parlay, Mary returned it to the officer. When she handed it to him, her hand lingered on his, rubbing the calloused surface, feeling him hesitate before removing it slowly. She smiled up at him, seeing his dark-brown eyes flash to her round breasts. She made them jiggle a bit, just for his benefit.
"Do you like me... just a little?" Mary surprised herself with the abruptness in her voice. She sounded like she was demanding an answer of 'yes'.
The officer swallowed hard, catching his breath as he led them deeper into the park. The pond could still be seen close by, but now the path they followed narrowed as it would between the trees.
Mary leaned close to the cop, asking him to bend down so she could tell him a secret. He smiled and did as she asked, his loins tingling with erotic excitement.
"I want to fuck you... you're so yummy." Mary kissed his ear, sending a wave of hot breath into his insides. The cop straightened up, not quite sure of how to react.
Here was a girl trying to put the make on him. She was with two more just like her, all seemingly hot to trot. They were in the woods at night with no one around. Maybe he could get away with it.
"My turn to tell you something." The young officer leaned over again and blew back into Mary's warm ear.
With that response, Mary threw her arms around his neck, and kicked herself high off the ground, allowing the policeman's strength to keep her in mid-air. With one more violent swing of her body, she threw herself even more roughly against the man.
Mary crawled onto the cop, smothering his surprised face with kisses. The other girls scrambled into the bushes anxious for a piece of the action. By now Mary had loosened the top coat button and was slipping her fingers onto his chest, straining to get beneath the high collared shirt. The cop shifted, giving her better access to his body.
Claudia and Gladys swarmed beside the couple, rubbing their hands over his legs and thighs, heading for his covered crotch. Mary was helping the cop out of his coat while he kissed her neck, sucking greedily on her soft skin. He had committed himself to trying his luck with this threesome. He wanted to fuck them one at a time, taking his sweet time about it, knowing he had plenty of time until he was to be replaced for the rest of the night.
Mary squirmed as she undid his shirt, letting her body climb over his chest, rubbing those ripe tits along his hardness. Down below, the others worked frantically, loosening his belt and pulling his pants down. He helped them, lifting his legs high and kicking his still tied shoes off one at a time.
Mary started undressing, quickly giving the hot cop a chance to fondle her rose-tipped tits. Her nipples were hard and the soft undersides of the hanging mounds were neat counterpoints to those stabbing tips. The policeman let his hands wander aimlessly over Mary's anatomy, not knowing where to start first. His appetite had been whetted and now, his building lust gave him no choice but to play the game to its end.
Mary hoisted her skirt, feeling the night air caress her thighs. Her hairy box was still hidden behind her panties and she allowed the cops fingers to snap the elastic, pulling the nylon undies from their place. Now her damp cunt faced him, its savage odor calling him to test his manhood. His cock was freed from its confines and stuck high above the reclining figure.
He shuffled along the ground, feeling Mary cuddle in his arms, while he tried to aim his rigid pole for a quick delivery. Mary played on, teasing him with her youthful ways. First, she ran her fingers along his neck and shoulders. Next, her tongue followed her hand, making small circles of wetness creep over his flesh. After that, she giggled, rubbing her hands deep into the policeman's clothing, feeling the rough fabric cover her wrists and arms. The uniform continued to work its magic as she smoothed her body over his, sensing the cloth work between her breasts, down on her stomach, even over her pubic area.
The policeman was bewildered by the turn of events. Here he was ready to satisfy this girl's wishes, ready to fuck her silly, and she kept fondling his bloody uniform. She continued to paw at the fabric while Claudia and Gladys stood back for a moment watching the fun.
They wanted their turn at the clothes, but knew Mary deserved first crack. Last time they made it with a uniformed man, Mary had been last.
Now the cop sat up, trying to unravel the chain of events that had led to this weird predicament. He was in the bushes with his pants down and his cock stiff, with three luscious youngsters who had proclaimed themselves ready to make love, Now this! He didn't understand at all and tried to say so.
Every time he attempted to talk, Mary would push his head back, stabbing her hot tongue deep in his throat, letting her spit roll into that cavity, working herself back over this hard flesh. Then, as he relaxed, she went back to rubbing the cloth vigorously between her legs.
Mary had never had a policeman's uniform to fondle before, and she was determined to make the best of it. Summoning her vivid imagination she thought of policemen attacking her, shoving their long billy-clubs into her twat. The scene made her even hotter and she felt the lubrication begin to drip into her crotch. Now the policemen were mounting her, their blue uniforms parting to reveal long dicks, ready for a sublime fucking. Mary opened her eyes and recalled where she was Officer Galligan was prone beneath her, his long prick extended in the cool air. She bent to it and sucked daintily on the head, making the cop give out a long moan. From his loins he felt an irresistible urge to charge the girl and attack her, sticking his cock far into her belly. He wanted nothing more than to impregnate her with his full meat, to fuck her until she pleaded for him to stop.
He raised himself onto his elbows, preparatory to shaking the lapping girl free, wanting to force her beneath him. Mary hung on, her mouth glued to his crotch, her fingers tracing designs along his balls, The cop struggled to get free.
Claudia and Gladys saw him move and made their moves at the same time. They dove for his uniform, smothering their faces in the blue material, sucking in the stale odor of dry cleaning and cheap cologne. It was like ambrosia to them and heated their fetish ridden bodies to fever pitch. They began stripping his pants from him. The cop became even more bewildered. Now he feared being robbed of his clothes and left to suffer the naked consequences in the bushes. How awful! He fought back, pulling his pants up as the girls pulled them down.
Their combined strength more than equaled his. Their passion lent them still more courage; and they tugged the pants free, retiring to the side, rubbing the legs into their respective crotches.
The cop sensed the madness build around him and feared for his life. His gun was lying out of reach, having been unstrapped with his belt; and his club was somewhere out of sight. Mary still hung onto his cock and she plied her tongue along his skin, making the tense cop realize he still had a chance to get in a good fucking. Even if those crazy girls loved his clothes, he was going to love up their cunts.
He fiercely shoved Mary aside and mounted her, his passion seemingly unquenchable. Mary opened herself like a flower, wanting the full force of his red-purple prick pumping at her pussy. Her head bobbed up and down in a continual yes-sign as she drew her legs back, waiting for the cop's full thrust. He roared into her, his body cracking hard against her belly, filling her cunt with ripe meat. In and out the hammer rammed, drawing new wetness from her overflowing pussy, making it Mary's turn to groan with joy.
Delirious with the new uniform, Claudia and Gladys had reached manual orgasms, managing to come at the same time, with large wet spots appearing on the cop's pants legs. Now, panting with heat, they closed in on the rucking cop. They rubbed his ass as he stroked his giant hard-on about in Mary's snatch.
The feeling was wonderful, and Galligan guessed he would soon get a shot at the other girls. Around him the night birds sang, while he pumped vigorously in the jelly-fleshed cunt. Ripples of liquid gave him lubrication and he slipped easily in the mucky darkness. Mary rode under him, lunging against him with every movement. Her come crashed all at once, shaking her with a fearsome spasm, filling her twat with greasy cream. Then it was the cop's turn. He battered at her cunt hard and swift, releasing his oozing lead, shoving harder into her overloaded slit. It was over in a moment, and they lay back, the cop all the time thinking of the two ripe bodies-in-waiting.
Gladys and Claudia had other ideas, however, and as the policeman reclined, having roiled off Mary, they quickly finished the job of undoing his coat and shirt. They wanted the whole uniform and were intending on stealing it for their collection.
The cop let them undress him, now figuring they were getting him ready for a further sexual treat. Mary pulled herself together, replacing her blouse and smoothing her skirt. The other girls were still dressed, having masturbated by simply shoving the cloth under their skirts.
Galligan watched from his half-closed eye-lids. Then it hit him. The girls intended sneaking off with his clothes! He shouted for them to stop; and when they continued away from him, picking up speed with each step, he chased after them. His still dripping cock waved madly from his come-covered loins.
"Stop... thief... stop!" he yelled, running like a lunatic after the fleeing girls.
Gladys clutched the clothes in her arms and ran back the way they had come-by the lake. The other girls went off the path into the woods, making their apprehension that much more difficult. The policeman took off after Gladys, hoping to, at least, retrieve his uniform.
Just as he was about to clasp the strong arm of the law on Gladys' shoulder, something smacked into him from behind. His head spun. He fell forward, landing about two feet from the water's edge. He was on his back, his half-stiff cock still pointing upward. Over him stood Mary, the cop's billy-club in her hands.
The girls looked at one another and knew they had to finish the job. When he came to, the cop would be able to identify them. Then they would be in big trouble. But if he never came to, there would be no one to identify them. They decided to kill him.
The lake was near-with a quick movement, they shunted his heavy body forward until his head was just above the water line. Slowly, they angled his head into the quiet pond, watching the water level rise above his half-opened lips, bubbles floating to the surface as his face displaced water.
"Wait... don't let him sink in yet. Turn him over onto his back." Claudia frantically called to the girls. "I want to ride that tool while the water soaks into him. Might as well get the full measure of fun from this man." She grinned, a demoniac look coating her pretty face.
Together, the trio managed to swing his unconscious body around, landing him on his back again. Now the prick sagged, its erotic life seemingly gone forever. Keeping a close watch on his face, Claudia rubbed her fingers over the nude thighs, drawing nearer to that fabled tool. Slowly live began to creep back into the cock, the head began to fill with blood, and Claudia soon was astride the policeman, her wide spread hips gyrating down onto the ready meat. Closer and closer she came, smiling all the while, Her twat was juicy and wet from her masturbation, and the lubrication aided the stiff rod in past the pink lips.
The cock beat inside her, responding to Claudia's practised massage. She clutched her cunt muscles feeling them grip and release, suck and push. The cop stirred, his eyes beginning to blink. Claudia motioned with her hands and Mary and Gladys pushed his head under water.
High atop the naked form, Claudia could see the policeman gagging. His head sank further and further under the man-made waves as she cunt-gulped his knob, sending twisting goodness into her womb. Her clit was riding hard against his flesh making her writhe in ever increasing divine palpations. Her cunt was rich with love cream, the staff keeping its hard edge in her soft buttery flesh. The cop choked, water seeping into his lungs as he futilely struggled to regain consciousness.
His body felt the water choke out life, and as the gurgling increased in his lungs, the blood drained from his cock, threatening to deflate it entirely before Claudia had her come stirred into motion. Wild with worry the girl jiggled on the boner, expending all her sexual energy trying to drive the cream through her twat. She jostled herself, making her firm tits swing in the air, feeling them slap against her like fresh mounds. She closed her eyes, listening for the lust within her to tell her when the come would shoot. The prick inside was fast flagging. She was frantic. Suddenly, she felt the cop's uniform on her face. She bit it, tasting the glorious fabric, sucking it into her mouth, pulling and tearing at it as she doubled her thrusting movements against the nearly dead officer.
Mary held the uniform close to Claudia, letting her get the full benefit of the cloth. Gladys meanwhile finished the job of drowning the policeman, and as the last bubbles floated to the top, signaling the water logged lungs could hold no more, Claudia spurted her love juice.
"Ahhhnnn. Love... Huhnn... fuck, shit... cunt... suck... prick... Ahhn.' Her words seemed to make the cream squirt in even greater quantities, filling her cavern with the welcome thrill. By now the dead man's cock was all but useless, and still ejaculating, she slipped form the pole and rubbed the come on the blue uniform.
They all pushed together, and the body slid with a noticeable splash into the pond. It floated off across the dark water, the wet come still sticking to the cop's thighs, a strange twisted smile pinned to his face.
Quickly, the girls gathered up his uniform and headed back into the city streets, sure of another uniform conquest. It wasn't until almost noon of the next day when two nursemaids, strolling along by the pond with their baby carriages, noticed the naked body washed up on the opposite shore. They shrieked in horror and ran off in separate directions, wheeling their charges ahead.
By then the uniform snatchers were fast asleep, dreaming of more clean pressed suits to add to their collection. They each kept a piece of their latest addition under their pillow for good luck. The blue uniform was still hanging in their collection when the police finally came to take them away.
CASE FOUR - INCEST
John and Harriet Savage were a year apart in age. Forced by economic necessity, their parents had them sleep in the same room as they grew up. They were wonderful playmates, always happy and laughing, only rarely fighting over belongings. Of course their mother found it easier to bathe them together than not, and this family tradition extended in the children's tenth and eleventh year, respectively.
Harriet, being the older of the pair, had begun to mature before her brother, and by the time she was nearly eleven had experienced her first period. Her mother explained it all very calmly, soothing the girl's tears and telling her that from now on she was becoming more than just a little girl. She told the youngster that her body would be changing and growing. She made her undress and pointed out where her breasts would form, and indeed there were already some early signs of such growth.
She suggested that Harriet might feel more comfortable about not undressing and dressing in front of John, and perhaps it would be best if she took separate baths. Harriet wasn't sure she really understood why, but went along with the idea.
When John was told that they wouldn't bathe together that Friday evening, he was visibly hurt. He had always enjoyed splashing in the tub with his sister and if that was going to be denied him, he wanted a good reason. Harriet just told him that she was growing up and big girls grew different things that boys shouldn't see.
"Like what?" John demanded.
"Well, Mother told me about breasts that I will grow. See, they've already begun to start coming in." She lifted her jersey high over her head, proudly thrusting her tiny knobs of flesh at the wide-eyed boy.
John touched her nipple with a finger-tip and Harriet felt a strange reaction in her chest; one she had never felt before. In their younger days, she and John had often played doctor and nurse by themselves, touching and poking around their genitals, but it had never gone beyond the stage of curiosity, and neither of them had experienced any sexual feelings.
Now Harriet felt warm and good as John moved his hand to her other nipple. The point hardened as he pushed it, springing back longer than when it was shoved in.
"Stop that, John. It feels funny."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. It feels good, but kind of funny... all warm and gushy. Besides, it made them grow. Look." She pointed at her tiny tits, the nipples obviously having expanded greatly since they had begun the examination.
John stared hard at the points of flesh, trying to figure out why that had happened. His never grew when he poked at them in bed at night. Sometimes he twisted them and although they sort of tickled, they never grew way out like Harriet's.
He told his sister this, and showed her his chest, the button-like nipples brown against his white skin. Harriet touched them gingerly, half expecting the same reaction to happen to him. When it didn't, John covered himself up and frowned.
"Don't worry, John. Remember I'm a guy, and besides, I'm a year older."
"Yeh... I guess so." He walked away, dejected at not having any breasts that grew when touched.
Friday came and John had his bath, leaving a boy-sized ring of dirt around the tub. His mother came to the bathroom door and tried to enter to wash his back, but it was locked.
"Johnny, let me in, honey. I want to wash your back."
"No Mom, let me alone. If Harriet and I can't bathe together anymore, then I'm old enough to wash myself." He splashed in the water, making sure she heard the water swish around the porcelain.
"Well... I guess so, darling. If you want help, though, let me know. Okay?"
"Sure, Mom."
The boy went back to his bathing, still trying to figure out why he and his sister couldn't do things together like they used to. Now that they were older it seemed to him that they should be able to do more things together, like bike rides in the summer, camping out in the back yard... all sorts of things. Just because she was growing some stupid old bumps on her chest, and had blood in her hole didn't mean they were so different. After all, just because he had a thing between his legs that she didn't have, he never said they shouldn't be together. He had even let her touch it sometimes. Big deal.
When the bath was over he pulled the plug and watched the water swirl around the drain before disappearing into the pipe. Ignoring the ring of dirt, he wrapped a towel around him, and still dripping wet, left the bathroom.
His sister was all ready for her bath, carrying a large towel with her as she brushed by John into the tile bathroom.
"Have a good bath... alone." John taunted her as she closed the door.
"Oh John, don't be such a baby." Harriet started the water running, and let the towel fall to the floor near the toilet. Then she stripped off her pajamas and stood on the scale, seeing if she had gained any weight since last week.
Her eleven-year old body gleamed in the harsh light as she inspected her newly sprouting knobs. Her nipples were small now, but Harriet knew if she played with them a few times they would grow firm and strong. Ever since she discovered that trick, she had done it every night before falling asleep, making her blood race a bit. The warm flashes she got always made her head spin a bit, and sometimes she played so long she had a hard time sleeping. Those nights she would just he in bed listening to her brother's breathing, trying to see his nice face in the darkened room. She had always liked John, and even though he was acting like a brat lately, she understood his feelings. To be suddenly disrupted in a long standing ceremony like sharing a bath could be quite a problem, and although Harriet thought it was probably for the best, she had to admit she missed it herself.
The tub was full, and the steam filled the room, making her tender flesh look pink and rosy. She slipped into the bath, first testing it with a toe, then daringly plunking both feet in together. The heat was nice... almost unbearable, but nice and relaxing. She slid in, letting the water cover her new tits, feeling it swirl between her legs, up into her hole.
The bleeding had stopped, and her cramps were gone now. What a pain... to have to expect cramps like that every month. Still, it was all part of growing up and Harriet accepted that. She spread her hole open a bit, prodding a baby finger into it, seeing the water slap against her vaginal lips, sensing the soft inner walls that she couldn't sec.
Her mother startled her when she came bursting through the door, and she barely had time to get her hand away from that forbidden spot. Her mother had told her about fiddling with herself a few years ago, when she had caught her sticking popsicle sticks in her hole. She had been afraid to really touch herself there ever since, and it was with considerable relief that she saw her mother hadn't noticed what she was doing.
"You look comfortable, darling... having fun?" Her mother leaned over the tub, her pendulous tits nearly hitting the water.
"Oh, it's a bit lonely without John... but I'll manage." Harriet wondered if her breasts would ever get that big. If they did, wouldn't they be awfully heavy? She thought of asking her mother but decided it might sound silly and instead began soaping her face and arms.
"Well, if you want me to soap your back later, give a call." Her mother headed back to the kitchen to do her evening newspaper reading.
As usual her mother and the children were alone at night, Dad having called to say he had to work late and not to wait up. Almost every night for about three months now, Dad had been late, and Harriet thought she saw a worried look on Mother's face as she took the phone message.
In about the middle of the bath, she heard her name being whispered quietly and looked at the door. John was there, ready for bed, his hair neatly combed and his feet in fluffy slippers.
"Can I come in Harriet? I just want to keep you company until I have to go to bed."
"No." Harriet whispered back, the word hissing through her teeth. "Mother will spank you if she catches you in here. If you stay awake until I get into the room, we can talk then... OK?"
"OK... see you in bed." John slunk away, keeping close to the hallway walls so his mother wouldn't spot him and snuggled under the covers, waiting.
Harriet hurried with her washing, forgetting to call her mother, and she stepped from the tub and wiped herself rapidly, water dripping from her rear end. She checked her face in the mirror, pleased to see her complexion clear, and brushed her teeth hastily. Then sticking her head into the kitchen, she called out good-night to her mother, tossed her mother a good night kiss and crossed to her shared bedroom.
John was nearly asleep, and Harriet had to shake him a bit to be sure he was really awake. She licked his ear, a favorite habit, and he squirmed, snarling at her. Then he smiled, his bright eyes opening as Harriet gently shoved him aside and crawled into the same bed.
As they had grown older, the children had always liked to sleep next to each other. They would sneak into one bed when their parents thought they were sleeping and manage to be apart when morning came. Now, Harriet felt her brother's warmth creep into her as she snuggled close. She put her head next to his on the pillow, and John turned around, his thin structure pressing close to her front.
"Let's see if I can make those things get big again, Harriet."
Harriet responded by pulling up the front of her pajamas, letting her tiny tits come into full view. John reached a young hand to them, testing them. They jiggled as he increased pressure and once again the magic growth took place. A hot flare went through the girl and an involuntary gasp escaped her lips. She shuddered as the boy pressed harder against her body. Beneath her bottoms, Harriet felt her small slit quiver slightly. She didn't understand what it meant, although she remembered that every night when she played with her own breasts the same thing happened.
"John... want to see something else... something new?" Without waiting for an answer she stripped her pajama bottoms off, leaving her loins free. She spread her legs wide and directed John to peer between them. He stuck his face down on the bed, looking hard at the crack in the dim light. He couldn't see anything new and said so.
"Don't you see those little hairs... near my belly-button?" Harriet pointed a delicate finger at the beginnings of a bushy triangle, the first blush of fluffy hair curling down towards her cunt. John followed her finger and located the hairs. He pulled tenderly, watching them spring out between his fingers. Then he stroked her skin, letting his hands wander lower, until they encountered her pussy itself.
Now Harriet liked this and she clamped her mouth shut, careful not to make any undue noises that might encourage her mother to investigate. John continued his play feeling her cunt hips, all soft and gushy. Harriet knew he would be surprised to find a damp streak inside and as she shifted to give him access to that moist place, her tits rubbed hard against John's legs.
Without warning she reached for his small prick, sticking it through the button fly, letting it's wrinkled head lay in her hand. In years past this small thing had fascinated her. Now she wondered if she could make John feel the same heat he was giving her. She squirmed as John probed deeper into the wet slit. His fingers burned inside her, making more sweaty stuff appear in the vaginal opening. Her budding breasts had tough hard nipples standing from them as she began poking at John's prick.
John felt the action on his penis and a strange warmth made him copy Harriet's wiggles. He had played with his rod once or twice, but never got very far, always afraid someone would come into the room. Now he closed his eyes as his sister rubbed her hands over it. She used both hands, rolling the floppy meat between her palms, stirring it to its first hardon. Surprised, she saw it begin to stiffen and get longer. She liked the way it changed size and the growing hose fitted so nicely in her soft hands.
John played harder inside her moist box, sending his hands around in circles, as if trying to scoop out the wetness. She clenched her thighs over his hand, locking it in place, and as John struggled to get it free, he knocked against something that made her almost jump off the bed. John continued shoving inside and once again his hand hit that tender place. Harriet was wracked with hot goosebumps, the insides of her thighs soft and tender as John somehow hit again and again at her little clit. Harriet aimed her cunt at the hand, making the little knob hit his stroking fingers as John massaged her like a born lover.
Meanwhile, her own hands were busy bringing a new freedom to the youngster's tool. She flipped it back and forth from hand to hand, watching it change shape and size as the minutes passed. Soon its head was full and Harriet changed her motion, rubbing along the full length, sending long strokes that sometimes continued down until they touched John's small balls.
John wiggled now, sensing a new found pleasure in his sister's body. Maybe they couldn't bathe together anymore, but as long as they were sleeping in the same room, they could get together like this, and no one would ever have to know. Without knowing why, be bent his head close to the girl's cunt and kissed her thighs. The sensation that flipped through Harriet almost matched the one when he hit her fleshy point inside the hole. She rolled around as John licked at her flesh, sending ripples of lubrication through her cavern. It was all so wonderful... new and wonderful.
Harriet freed one hand from John's stiff cock and rubbed it over her hard nipples. This motion compounded the goodness even more forcing still newer lust higher into her pit. Harriet didn't know what to call any of this, but it felt good. Warm blood spread the sensual clamoring into her every muscle, making her demand more and more action between her thighs. She pumped vigorously back and forth on John's stroking fingers, hitting her clit against his wrist as the hand nearly disappeared inside her. Now another new feeling welled up, churning her stomach, making it flip-flop unexpectedly. Then it swept by her, leaving her senses naked to the onrushing come. A string of nonsense came to her mouth, but she bit her Up, managing to suffocate the inner screams, while her cream erupted Like a new volcano. She kicked her legs high, nearly knocking John from his perch, making the boy turn his attentions to her sticky spend as it oozed over his still working fingers.
This was a new one... he liked the smell and liked the way Harriet seemed to go for the action, but the stickiness was something he wasn't sure about. Back and forth they rocked, John valiantly pressing his hands to her cavity, rubbing his palms over the hole while Harriet managed to get through the climax without muttering a sound. She loved it. It was a hundred times better than kissing. A hundred times better. She wanted to do it again, but her stomach felt weak. Her hands had gripped John's cock tightly while she came, and now she played with it again. Her head was in a line with the point and she leaned to it, returning John's previous kisses.
The boy rolled under her mouth, feeling his spine tingle. Harriet wanted to complete her job, sure she could make him do the same thing as he had done to her. She mouthed his prick, tasting the small amount of pee that still remained in his pee-hole. She let the acidic taste flow through her, wilting to endure it for the sake of pleasing her brother. She wanted to make him jump Like a kangaroo, make him shimmy like she had.
John lay still, his hands still covered with his sister's cream. His fingers drew lazy circles on her thighs, spreading the warm come up and down her nice legs. She sure was pretty. Much prettier than the girls in his grade at school! And better to be with, too. None of them had breasts like her... and probably didn't have any hairs down below either. She was so nice.
Harriet smiled as John kissed her thigh again. Then she sucked faster and faster on his small dong, feeling an urgency grow in the boy's loins. She stroked his rear, her fingers softly caressing the bouncy flesh. Her own heat was building without any help from John, and she concentrated on the boy's pulsing penis, letting her loins take care of themselves. The boner sloshed in her spit-filled mouth, sending thrilling charges along Harriet's spine. John felt the new energy surge through him as Harriet kissed and lapped at his dong. He thought it was strange that she liked doing that, but guessed if it felt so good to him, it must be all right to do. While his sister struggled to keep up her frantic pace, John found himself smacking his belly into her, fucking her mouth with his newly found toy. Then he reached his tongue back onto her thighs, bringing it all the way down to that steaming crack. He moved it slowly into her hole, tasting the sticky white spend that lined her. Around and around he twirled as Harriet made his body glow with the precome blush of lust. Not knowing quite why, John dove head-first for the glory hole, as his cream moved, picking up steam as it gathered for its release.
He hollered his love into her cunt, and Harriet closed her thighs, locking the noise in her once again shooting hole. John squirted into her mouth, ricocheting the spinning excretion off Harriet's teeth, forcing it into her gulping throat. All the while he was lapping madly at his sister's cunt, knowing now why she had moved and jiggled while sending her own brand of liquid out. He gave vent to his body's desire for freedom and swerved back and forth, his pin point attention directed in his sister's lips. Harriet sucked him dry and when she finished swallowing the last of his come, she slowly drew the cock out and patted it like a pet dog, before wiping the excess on the sheets.
John lapped his sister clean, and swallowed what he managed to collect. Then he kissed her once again and pulled away from her cunt. He turned about, coming face to face with the girl. She smiled at him warmly, and suddenly pressed herself to his body, forcing her slippery tongue into his wet throat. Their tongues twisted together, lashing themselves into a lover's knot, slipping and sliding like two experienced Frenchmen.
They separated, gasping for breath. Harriet put a finger of silence to her lips and cautioned John. Then she got her pajamas back in order and climbed from the small bed. She leaned over and kissed him once more, lightly on the cheek, and crawled between her sheets. They both were soon asleep, dreaming of each other.
The next day, when they were able to get alone outside, they spoke of the night's pleasures, pledging eternal secrecy to each other. They would never reveal anything that happened between them, and promised to experiment some more with their newly discovered erotic toys. They played calmly all day, storing their energies for the expected night's sex.
That night, as usual, their father called, saying he'd be late. The kids got on the phone and pleaded with him to let them stay up later than usual to watch TV. He relented and they jumped with joy. Their mother looked sad as she hung the phone on its hook and prepared supper for three. The kids noticed her look of anguish, but beyond her evident loneliness, they didn't understand what might be wrong.
After supper, Mother did the dishes while the children turned on television, switching channels back and forth between stations, not satisfied with much of anything.
Finally they settled back to watch some show.'-and their mother joined them. She switched her attention back and forth from the TV to books, trying to blot out her suspicions about her husband's fidelity.
At ten o'clock she finally shooed the children to bed, planting wet kisses on their foreheads before they went to the bathroom to wash up. Soon the children ran chasing each other into their bedroom and the woman yelled for them to get into their beds and be quiet.
The children complied, quieting down, pretending to sleep, simply waiting for the moment when they could resume their sexual adventures. Just as Harriet was ready to join her brother in bed, she heard the front door open and her father come in. He was drunk and blustering about now that he was home, where his warm and friendly wife was to greet him. Needless to say, his wife was in no mood to kowtow to his drunken wishes and stomped into their bedroom slamming the door behind her.
The children could hear her crying and then the sound of their father entering the bedroom, trying to calm the woman down. She screamed at him about leaving her alone every evening; not caring for her, and not having made love in a month. She cried more and the children crept to their bedroom door to hear better.
Their father slammed the bedroom door, and resumed his belligerent attitude. "You don't know how hard I work at that stinking job so you can sit here all day watching that damn television."
"How would you like to be cooped up here all day with nothing to do but keep house and cook meals. Besides those kids aren't exactly my idea of sexual pleasure... or have you forgotten what that means." The woman countered with her usual approach; accusing her husband of not loving her properly.
The man decided to fuck her then and there and began undressing. The woman backed up on the bed, watching the drunk tangle his hands in his trousers. Finally he managed to get everything off and staggered towards her, his face red as a beet, and his hands outstretched for her large tits.
The woman's anger dissipated with each step he took. Her eyes locked on his swinging cock, that red hunk of meat she yearned for. It had been so long that she had been tempted to masturbate tonight. Now that her man was here, that wouldn't be necessary. She could argue with him tomorrow. Right now her body needed him too much to fight.
"Oh darling... I need you so much... please take me... please make me feel like a woman again."
In their room, the children exchanged glances, deciding to enjoy the lovemaking show. Silently they crept into the short hallway. Crawling, they reached the door to their parents' room, where the keyhole allowed one at a time to peek at the ongoing scene.
Harriet looked first and watched as her father undid her mother's dress, flinging it onto the floor. Then her bra was unhooked and those golden tits flopped into view. Harriet was still amazed at the size of monstrous boobs. Her father caught them in mid-swing and nuzzled his head between them. The woman threw back her head, a small laugh catching in the back of her throat.
Harriet backed up, giving John a chance to see. As she crawled back, she felt her own nipples grow bigger. John poked his eye to the key-hole and watched as his father sucked on his mother's tit, bringing her nipple to full erection. He saw his father's prick grow rapidly as his mother's hands did what Harriet had done to him the night before.
Now both parents stretched out on the bed, completely naked. John saw his father swing his large body over his mother and tilt that large red rod at her hair-covered cunt. He watched as his own hair mixed with her pubics, making his prick completely disappear into her dark slit. They moved quickly together, expert at this maneuver.
He gave the peep hole back to Harriet, as his cock grew to a respectable size in his pajamas. Harriet knelt in front of him, watching the fucking, her own loins completely swamped with wetness. John wiggled up next to her and pulled her pajama bottoms down, exposing her round ass. Lightly, his tongue began making delicious marking on her butt while he fingered his own prick under his sleep clothes. Harriet spun around and grabbed at his pole, yanking it free from its binding. Then she resumed her pose, pulling John tight against her backside, his penis lodged into her ass crack. She rubbed up and down the point as her mother and father shifted position again.
Now they began eating each other, their lips and tongues flying over the exposed genitals. Harriet saw her father's long cock delve deep into her mother's mouth and wondered how that fat tool would feel in her cheeks. She thought she'd never be able to swallow all the come that he would spurt, and wondered if even her mother could handle it.
John pushed at her crack, his joint pressing tight against her small opening and Harriet wiggled on it, almost hoping that it would penetrate into her shithole. In the bedroom, her parents shifted again, having tired out their busy jaws. Now they assumed a position like Harriet and John. Her father spit on his hands and rubbed the saliva over his red cock, putting the excess into his wife's ass. Then with a mighty leap he charged at that spot, twisting the prick into that dark place.
Both children jumped as their mother yelped with pain, and Harriet shut her eyes and pulled away from the hole, afraid to see what had happened. She was sure her father had split her open and blood must be spurting from the poor woman's backside. John was too curious to stay away and he rushed to fill the vacuum. Inside, the married couple pumped together, no sign of discomfort evident on anyone's face. The man humped her ass, while the woman twisted her hands into the crumpled bed sheets. They rocked on the balls of their feet, locked like Siamese twins while the bed creaked beneath their combined weight.
John played with his cock while the act went on before him. He wanted to replace his father and get some of that real woman's flesh. His lust filled him with shameless thoughts, driving his hands faster and faster over his own body.
Behind him Harriet had recovered her senses and wanted to try out the positions they had seen. She whispered softly to John that they should return to the bedroom, where they could play like their parents. John agreed, and taking one last look at his balling parents, followed Harriet's lead into their dark room. They closed the door securely and climbed into Harriet's bed. It was cold and they snuggled close, filling the blanket covered space with body heat.
Harriet licked at John's eyes, her breath panting and short. John felt completely awake to his body's needs and wanted another session like last night. He thrust his tongue at his sister's mouth, forcing it beyond her teeth, scraping it along her gums. She sucked it in, playing with the tip. Her own tongue began to explore his mouth, dowly copying his gum treatment. They breathed into each other's mouths, feeling the hot air blow into their throats, warming their lungs.
Harriet pulled away and shifted up higher, removing her pajama top as she went. Her tits were hard, like tacks sticking from her chest. She shoved a nipple at John's mouth and he greedily gobbled it, sucking like his father had done. Back and forth he stretched the flesh, making Harriet feel every stroke of his tongue across her hard point. His hands flew to her free tit, pressing and releasing, massaging and stroking, all the time making the flesh tingle with fresh jerking lust.
As Harriet let her brother suck and fondle her tits, she felt her cunt begin to vibrate, the motion of her hips straining to get at the wondrous feeling inside. Her hand crept to her box and as the lubrication readied it, she stroked her hidden clit, already wise that her great source of pleasure came from this little mound of flesh.
John's cock flapped back and forth as he played with his energetic sister's body. Her flesh was soft and resilient and his boy's hands drove her deeper into the den of incest. Together they climbed that agonizing wall of love, a wall that society says should separate two persons from the same parents.
Noises of lovemaking sounded in their young ears as their parents continued their bout in the next room. Sucking, swirling, lapping, licking noises came at them, drowning out any thoughts of wrongdoing, making the youngsters only more aware of the locked pleasures in their own skins.
Harriet shifted her position, freeing her taut nipples from John's tormenting touch. Her loins were fired up, needful of the boy's touch and she yanked on his spongy prick, aiming the head for her steaming twat. John moved forward, sliding his body next to the girl's. Her cunt and his cock were an inch apart and the magnetic attraction between the organs drew them together. As John's prick made contact, Harriet thought she would swoon. Her cunt was sweet and warm now, demanding attention. Harriet rolled onto her back, pulling John on top of her. She spread her thighs, letting her cunt stare up at the boy's rod. She giggled a bit as the cute stick pressed at her lips, trying to enter the virginal hole. John pressed hard, gritting his teeth, determined to make a complete lunge like his father. He lifted his ass and dove down, sending sparks through Harriet's tight snatch. The pain was unexpected. She thought the hole would give him easy entrance, but each stroke of his stiff cock brought new agony to her body. She pushed back at him now, overwhelmed by the force in his ten-year-old body. John wouldn't be denied, though, and battered at her hymen, anxious to gain full entrance to that soft flesh hole.
Grunting like a deranged pig the boy wrenched at her middle, crashing like a wild stallion, willfully pushing his cock though her membrane. The blood spurted over his log as it reached its goal. John felt his cock deep in the mire, and Harriet relaxed, the pain subsiding as the boy's stiffness moved about with freedom. Her cunt was drenched with pink lotion, the blood staining her bed. She would have to tell her mother she had a nosebleed while sleeping.
Now her thoughts returned to the charging cock. Her pelvis squirmed and frantically shunted from side to side as her come began that wonderful journey again. She held tight, her hands gripping John's ass as her legs flew into the air, slamming down with each new squirt. She splashed her hot come, feeling the warmth flood over her brother's smoothly running engine. Suddenly a fear crept into her bones. She thought John might shove his load deep into her and make her have a baby. She remembered that it could happen. They told her about it in school.
Quickly, while her own climax still roared in her body, she wrenched free, grabbing her brother's extended tool in her hands and sliding her expert touch about his prick. She barely missed a beat. From next door the fucking went on, louder now, with screams of joy mixing with the slapping of bodies flung together in the act of love.
John listened, his ears perked to pick out the significant words. His father screamed now, his cock shooting like a rocket, sending flames of cream into his wife's cunt. She met his cries with yelps of her own, driving him on with loud obscenities, rending the air with her vicarious words. "Fuck me... harder... yes, shove it in... oh my god... my god... I'm coming."
With his mother's swears ringing in his ears, John spread his gism. It coated his sister's hands and flowed in gulping waves onto her stomach, forming pools in her valleys, leaking over her sides to wet the bed. He jerked like an epileptic, seizing the soft body of his wonderful sister as she taught him another love tune. Her hands rapidly drew his cream from the shaking stem, sending it high above them, lining her ever-stroking fingers with the blessed release.
As things quieted down in the parents bedroom, the children crept into their separate dream-worlds heavy with the sleep of satisfied lovers. Their hearts were full of tender thoughts of each other, sure they were meant to please one another like this, anxious to continue and to build the relationship from its solid foundation of pure pleasure into a platform of erotic bliss.
Sunday was a family day, and the household slept late, not interested in church or the morning papers. The father slept off his drunk, and the mother her fuck. Similarly, the children slept off their sexual adventures, rising about eleven o'clock, with exchanges of tonguey kisses and thigh squeezes.
They crept into the parents' bedroom and pounced on the sleeping forms, kissing them awake. More than a little erotic play happened then before the parents were fully awake, and when the children saw the adults spring into life, they backed off, their innocence coming to fore. The parents suspected nothing.
After the noon meal, everybody lounged, watching TV and joking. It was a happy family scene and all seemed right with the world. At about four p.m., the phone rang and the father answered it, speaking softly into the mouthpiece. His wife was conveniently in the kitchen at the time and unaware of the halting conversation the man carried on. Finally, he agreed to be somewhere at 6:30 and saying a soft-sweet "See you then," hung up the phone with a wistful smile. He spotted the children staring at him and glared back at them, realizing they were on to his little game. They knew their father wasn't meeting a business acquaintance, not with the way he handled that phone call.
Telling his wife the convenient lie about the bosses' orders, the man proclaimed that he had to leave the house about 5:45. The kids watched as their mother's day of happiness turned into a shambles.
The man left at his appointed time and the children were once again alone with their unhappy mother. She attempted a brave smile, all the time knowing in her heart that the children were on to the disintegrating family situation. After dishes she settled into the living room, mindlessly watching the babbling TV while the children played at her feet.
Before long it was bed time again, and the children dutifully kissed their mother goodnight, did their bathroom chores and hustled into the bedroom. Harriet closed the door, shutting out the hallway light.
She turned to John. "Did you get it?" She grinned hopefully.
John nodded his head. "As soon as Dad left I snuck one from his drawers. I saw him put one on once and I think I can-do it OK." He held out a rolled up prophylactic, stolen from his father's supply. Tonight he wouldn't have to pull his throbbing penis from his sister just at the best part.
They chose Harriet's bed again, hugging and kissing in their routine preliminary style. John seemed extra excited tonight. The thought of using one of his father's rubbers drove new erotic feelings through his young body. He held his sister tight, feeling his prick grow hard against her sleek body. They rapidly undressed leaving nothing between their touching bodies but their passion. Harriet quickly began rubbing along the full length of her brother's anatomy, feeling her firm breasts stabbing at his boney chest. Slender hands began moving stealthily over his form, lowering themselves into his crotch area, seeking that small pleasure vehicle he had recently learned to wield so forcefully. Harriet felt the rubbery tip as her hands met his cock. It squished between her fingers as she tugged at the trunk, sending increasing desires into her own loins.
John complimented her fingers with his own exacting motions. He smoothed them over her face, letting his sister suck on each finger tip and then continued to raise her intensity level by scraping his nails over his front, resting them finally on those blooms of flesh. Harriet's nipples were fastened to his palms and the fire they stirred spread through them both. John's hands twitched as he plucked at her elongated tips, sensing his sister's growing need.
Harriet carried out her part with wonderful precision, first stroking, then kneading, then jabbing, then pulling as the boy's penis became completely rigid, its full head clam me ring for more of the same. While Harriet played on his flute, John reached for her love instrument, and finding it open and ready for his driving fingers, struck up a quick melody on the passion strings. Around and around his fingers flew, drilling deeper with every pass, plucking at the channel walls, past the broken hymen, deep into the dark cavern. Harriet climbed high, her legs split apart, waiting, pushing, longing for the release she had grown to need from her brother's body.
"It feels so good, John... do it some more... I love it John, I want it all the time... I think about you all day," Harriet whispered the endearing words as she jerked on the hard pecker.
"I know... I like it too. Every night I can't wait to touch you and have you send that sticky stuff into your hole. I love it."
John slipped his fingers about in the oily lubrication, telling himself that he was only acceding to his sister's wants, not doing anything bad. Once more he convinced himself that there could be nothing the matter with this wonderful relationship.
His mind swirled with remembered images from last night, and lifting his body into a new position, he muff-dived at his sister's cunt, landing his tongue directly in the humid hole. Harriet stiffened, her legs pushing still further apart as John sought her clit with his mouth. Sucking and pulling with his lips and teeth, John found the fleshy knob and gave it full attention as his head swam with thoughts of his mother's ripe body.
In his fantasy he became his father, only he would never leave his beautiful mother for another woman. His prick grew harder as he imagined his mother's love sending new shock waves along the pipe-length. Back and forth he rode, his tongue massaging the taut cut, wishing he could stick his entire head in that wonderful hole. Then he could get his whole body inside and make her feel better than ever, even better than his father had done last night.
Harriet brought him back to his senses as she slipped onto his cock with her lips, mouthing the stem, slurping the boy's meat into her saliva-filled mouth. He gurgled into her hole, spitting a bit, then retrieving the spit with his slapping tongue. Harriet spit on his prick, watching the saliva dribble down his tool, seeing it curl over his hairless balls onto the bed. She followed the path with her tongue desperately trying to recapture her precious fluids. Her tongue licked at his ass, poking into his crack and retreating again, teasing the boy's backside.
John imitated the movement, shifting his mouth from the girl's cunt to her anal track, tonguing the cleft, his tip unashamedly thrust into the rectum. Harriet squirmed as the tip made its way into her ass and gave her incentive to renew her own ass licking maneuvers. Locked together, their fingers aiding their tongues, they kissed the shit holes, tasting the cruddy flesh as they pumped harder at the tempting backsides. Endlessly, their tongues dug in, cleansing those erotic spaces, now helped by the flying fingers. John spread his sister's cheeks and stuck two fingers into her wet ass, the nails scraping the anal walls. Up and down she rode, her head slamming into the ass in front of her as John massaged her rectal area, his tongue back at her cunt.
The sensation was incredible. John felt his fingers deeper in the pile, struggling to catch ahold on the full flesh. His tongue slipped far into her cunt. There, on the inside of her pussy, his tongue felt the probing fingers through the thin skin wall. He pressed his tongue against them, lapping in time with his twirling fingers.
Harriet was saturated with sweat, her body sticky with anticipation. Then it came, her senses nearly numbed by the overwhelming richness of her ejaculation. Thick mucusy steams rampaged through her twat, while John forgetting all sense of shame, grunted and groaned, his hands and teeth scraping the flesh at his command. Back and forth Harriet carried the fight, steaming like a boiling kettle, the come jetting like a loosened slime, squirting inside her fuck-hole. Her ass reacted like a muscular wrench, tightening over her brother's fingers, opening and closing like a fleshy fist.
John slowed his motions, trying to keep her on a more even keel, while he fixed his cock, ready for action. He picked up the rubber from the floor, and removing his hands from his sister's rear end, placed the lubricated safe on his slim pole. Harriet watched carefully. The sight made her cream spurt again. Soon John had managed to encase his hard cock in the prophylactic, and although it drooped at the end, he filled it surprisingly well.
John directed Harriet to recline on her back, her legs wide open, the dripping come-filled twat ready for his insertion. John climbed over her, his face twisted into a semblance of sexual attacker, his spittle drooling over his chin. His body was fully awake, fierce and poised above her. Harriet moved her legs back and forth, feeling the motion push still more dribble of cream escaping.
John leaned forward, the rubber covered prick slipping easily into her waiting cunt. Tonight there was no pain as the boy's cock made its way into the dark wet cavern. Harriet squirmed again, her legs ending up on John's shoulders, hanging limply over his back while her hips thrust back and forth in the air above the bed. Careful not to make any creaking bed noises, John silently pumped into his sister, working around in the vagina, his sheathed cock like a sensitive handle, grabbing at her insides like a meaty hand. Harriet felt his fullness fill her tight hole. Even in the slimy recess, she could feel every inch of his young manhood making her belly tighten with the expectation of still another round of orgasms. Her brow was sweaty, but Harriet ignored it as her brother played inside her.
John was hard at work, feeling his own load move into place. This time he would continue to shoot until every last drop was extracted. The boy's prick snapped about inside, driving with all John's energy. Harriet scrunched up higher, sending her legs into a kicking motion, slapping them again and again on John's shoulders. The boy didn't feel the kicks, busy with his own heated groin. Now he fucked her harder. Then he came, all of the pent-up come rushing through his hose like a train into a tunnel, hard and fast, whooshing into the protective covering, still managing to send hot sensations through Harriet's cunt, making her rock with yet another orgasm.
Like a circus act, they moved on the bed, heedless now of any squeaks. Writhing, the children shot their full spend in a growing frenzy of noise. Harriet couldn't help herself, and bit John's shoulder, her legs still flapping against him, the ankles locked in an ancient love position. John yelped with the sudden piercing pain. His cock still moved rapidly, and his head now sucked greedily on his sister's nipples, first one that the other.
Neither of them heard the bedroom door open. They were locked in an incredible spasm of fuck when their father, once again heavy with liquor, approached the bed, his eyes wide in disbelief. Before him were his two lovely children, performing like stuck dogs. His anger rose and the children completed their groaning orgasms, their eyes closed, imagining their lovers to be bigger and stronger, in fact imagining them to be their parents.
"Animals... Pigs... Dogs... Animals... Fucking together... My children fucking together... like animals," the man screamed at them, his fists striking out at the same time.
The children were horror stricken, realizing what was happening. They were caught. Their father had returned and before going to bed had heard the bed creak and the moans from the bedroom. Assuming the children were dreaming he went to check on them, and found instead the incredible incestual scene. Now his rage was heightened as Harriet and John separated and he saw the full, sticky condom on John's cock.
"Fucking your sister... sticking that tool of yours into your sister. You animal. You, letting him do it... enjoying it... you're no better."
He slapped at the kids, but they ducked. His drunken brain slipped gears, trying to catch the squirming naked bodies. His eyes filled with pure hate as he came closer to John, pinning him against a wall.
"I'll teach you... you animal." He stripped off his leather belt and swung it menacingly over his head. John scampered out of reach, and the lumbering man followed, his belt ready. Finally, cornered, he fell to the floor.
"I didn't know it was wrong, daddy. Honest. It just felt good. I saw you and mom do it and I thought... "
The belt snapped, hitting him across the back of the neck. John cringed. His father yanked him onto his feet.
He dragged the boy to the scene of the incestuous act. John was placed roughly over his father's lap and spanked severely. The red marks raised on the upturned ass drove the man on, the blood forming lust patterns in his mind. Finally, he dropped the boy to the floor and stepped down on his back, driving the limp cock down hard against the rug, bruising the love tool and wrenching the condom from it. Then, he turned to Harriet.
Her cunt was wet again. Secretly, she hoped her father would fuck her, just like he did to her mother.
The older woman, awakened by the noises, stood in the doorway. As her husband reached for Harriet, she found her voice. "Ron, she's only a baby," she sobbed.
"This baby acts like a whore!" He grabbed her by the hair and threw her face-down across the bed. Her pink ass quivered as her father slapped it viciously... and her cunt ran with the juices of her orgasm. "That'll teach you," he said, stomping out of the room.
Soon, the beaten, bruised children heard his rhythmic snoring. Waiting until the sound of his breathing deepened, they wormed their way out into the hall. John made his way into the kitchen where he secured a large knife and rejoined his sister outside the bedroom door. Then, tiptoeing, they entered the bedroom.
Hushed and tense, the children approached the sleeping form. Harriet searched the room for something big and heavy. She spotted the table lamp, its hard base weighing enough for her purpose. She unplugged it and removed the shade.
Side by side, the children watched their hateful father sleep. Harriet looked at John. He signaled and she raised the lamp, ready to spring at her father if necessary. John carefully lifted the covers from the sleeping man.
Now, the boy lifted the gleaming knife. He looked down at his father. If only the man hadn't beaten him. The pain still throbbed through his flesh. If only he hadn't made his mother cry...
With a giant swoop, he was on the man, the knife cutting into his prick, severing it from his groin. At the same instant, Harriet crashed the lamp against the man's head. The man's body jumped and twitched and then lay very still.
