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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
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Going-away Party (MMF, rape, tort)
by wiley10 <wiley10@nym.alias.net>
Warning:
This story is quite brutal, and sick. It describes in great detail,
and some realism, the rape and torture of a young, beautiful woman.
If you don't like this sort of story, don't read it.
Author's note:
I wrote this story on a request, so it isn't quite the type of
story I enjoy reading. It is a pure rape story with elements
of torture.
enjoy,
wiley10
Going-away Party
One hundred million dollars, I thought. Five years it
took, five years and two accomplices and a great many lies,
but we had made our fortunes; now it was time to get out.
I had planned this day from the very beginning. All three
of us would meet at the office on a holiday, so no one else
would be in. We would drive together to the airport, and
together would fly to a little island where the women were
beautiful, the authorities buyable, and where there was no
extradition. I glanced at the clock: 6:00 pm, only five
more hours before we had to leave for the airport. I
smiled as I looked at my name-plate across my beautiful oak
desk: Paul Hanson, Vice-President.
A knock on my office door brought me out of my reverie. I
frowned. There shouldn't have been anyone here; John and
Greg should have been down in accounting cleaning up a few
loose endsû didn't want anyone catching on too fast. I
stood up and approached the door.
"Come in, it's open."
The door cracked open and a young woman right off of a
magazine cover stepped tentatively into my office. She was
stunning, standing almost my own six foot one in her shoes.
Oh man, her shoes, black leather calf-high boots with three
inch heels, wrapped what must have been the most delicious
calves, since the rest of her legs were so perfect, their
shape clear behind sheer black hose, a tight black skirt
covering only half her long, lean thighs. A white blouse
and a black jacket couldn't hide that flat, narrow waist or
restrain those full round breasts which I knew were under
there, pressing here and there against her blouse when she
moved. Her neck was a smooth, creamy white, leading up to
full, pale, luscious lips and a face which could have
adored any magazine in the country. She was crowned with a
long mane of straight blond hair reaching past her
shoulders, falling to either side of her face, framing it
as if it were a photo, highlighting those big, beautiful
blue eyes which seemed to shimmer even under the
fluorescence of my office.
"I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "but I'm looking for Mr.
Stone. I'm doing a report on my internship and I thought
he might be in today."
I gave her my best smile as I looked back into her bright
blue eyes. "He was in earlier today, but he's stepped out.
Why don't you sit down," I motioned to the brown leather
couch sitting against the wall, "maybe I can help you?"
She made a move toward the couch, and I moved over and shut
the door, still smiling, my mind starting to cloud over
with adrenaline. I had been in getaway mode, my nerves
frayed by the thought that in just six hours I'd be home
free with a third of one hundred million dollars and then
this girl comes in, this girl who's so damned hot.
She perched herself on the edge of the couch, those perfect
knees together, pulling down her skirt as it rode up
slightly, showing beautiful thighs. She slipped a notepad
and a pen from an inside pocket of her jacket and watched
me as I sat down on the edge of the coffee table opposite
her. "Mrà." she started.
"Hanson, but call me Paul." I smiled again, my world
narrowing to the sight of her, of her face, of her full,
pale lips, of her pink tongue as it snaked out to moisten
those lips. I could hear my heart pound in my chest as I
watched her, thudding heavily as my mind fogged over, and I
knew what was going to happen, knew that I couldn't stop
myself, and knew that I didn't want to stop myself.
"Paul, well, uhàI worked for Mr. Stone last summer as an
internà"
"What college do you go to?" I started, then shook my head,
"I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"Cathy. Cathy Rollins." She fidgeted nervously, unsure of
herself.
"Well Cathy, how old are you?"
"Um, twenty-one. Oh, and I go to Sû."
I grinned at her. She was perfect, just perfect. My palms
started to sweat. "So what do you want to know, Cathy?" I
loved the sound of her name in my mouth, the syllables
rolling deliciously around my tongue.
"I interned with Mr. Stone, so I pretty much know what the
company does." She ran her fingers across the side of her
head, brushing that straight blonde hair from her eyes, her
manner changing slightly, becoming less nervous, more
decisive as she spoke. "What I would like to know is the
strategy your company has for capturing overseas markets,
especially considering the problems you've had in South
Africa."
My head was beginning to throb, but I knew from experience
that she was looking at a perfectly relaxed man, smiling
slightly as he looked at her. It always happened that way,
whenever I got hyped, my whole body would be pounding, my
mind focused crystal clear on one thing, a dense fog edging
out everything else; my body tight, pulled taut as a bridge
support cable, ready to snap. My appearance, though, would
be calm, relaxed, smiling, masking what lurked beneath.
I answered her, not really paying attention to what I was
saying, watching as she bent her head to write, glancing up
at me occasionally from beneath those bangs, with that
face, with those full fucking lips and those hot fucking
legs and that blouse, that white fucking blouse straining
with those tits those fucking big fucking tits and those
fucking thighs and her fucking flat hard stomach I shivered
inside as I tried to contain myself for just a few minutes
longer.
"àand that's pretty much the plan," I finished.
She nodded, still scribbling, "Mrà. Paul. You saidû "
"I'm sorry," I interrupted, "but I was wondering. Mr.
Stone has, well," I looked away from her for a moment, "a
certain reputation around hereà." She looked up at me, her
face questioning. I looked directly into those big baby
blue eyes of hers, my face a mask of seriousness, "he never
harassed you, did he?"
Cathy looked shocked, and I wasn't surprised. Mr. Stone is
almost sixty and if the old fuck isn't gay, then he's been
castratedû he's got no balls, and all the secretaries loved
him because he's so damned nice. "Nàno." She shook her
head. "He never didàsaidàanythingàno." She was nervous
again, slightly on the defensive. I liked that.
"His last intern, she left because of some of the things he
said," I continued, pressing, "and she was nowhere as good
looking as you." I watched as that small pink tongue
darted out again to like those gorgeous lips, watched as
her hands began to fidget in her lap. I leaned closer to
her, confidentially, my mind tense, driven, crazy as she
leaned slightly away from me. "He used to brag to me some
times, you know, how he liked to fuck college girls up the
ass."
There was a silence as she stared at me with those
beautiful blue eyes, her whole body, her whole damned sexy
body quivering slightly as she tried to decide what to do.
She looked down and stood up quickly, jerkily, stuffing her
notebook and her pen back into her jacket. "I'm sorry,"
she said to the ground, "Mr. Stone never did or said
anything to me which could be construed as harassment.
Thank you for your time."
I stood up with her, my whole body becoming more relaxed as
my mind raged and my vision caught every minute detail of
this hot, hot fucking woman moved toward the door, myself
at her side, my mouth apologizing mildly, saying I'm sorry
for shocking you, but I needed to know. "Now!" my mind
screamed as I felt my hand touch the doorknob, her eyes
still studiously ignoring me as she paused that one
instance for me to open the door and let her out.
She saw it coming, but she couldn't react, didn't have
time. It was an open-handed slap across the left side of
that sexy face. She flinched, she cried out, she stumbled,
shock more powerful than the blow as I moved over her like
a wild beast bringing down his prey. She staggered to the
right and her heel twisted to the inside and she fell to
one knee, her right hand coming down to catch her fall. An
inhuman growl came from my throat as I lashed out, my foot
burying itself into that perfect stomach, making her body
jerk back, a horrible retching sound coming from her as she
dropped to both knees, grabbing her stomach with both
hands, her head hanging as she gasped for air, her blonde
hair shrouding her face as drool wet those luscious, sexy,
fucking lips.
I grabbed that hair, veins standing out on the back of my
hand as I jerked her head up and leaned over her, my other
hand gripping the top of her blouse. "You might be done
with me, bitch, but I'm not done with you," I said, my
voice hard. The bitch, the hot, sexy, fucking hot bitch
was still trying to breath as I ripped down savagely,
tearing her blouse open, buttons clacking against the
closed door, exposing a wide expanse of smooth, creamy,
sexy fucking white flesh, her fucking tits bigger than I
thought strapped down, straining against a white bra.
Her hands reached up to push my hand away as I gripped one
of those full mounds of flesh, so I jerked her head by her
hair, growling, seeing shock and fear in her eyes as she
practically mewled at me, "Pleaseàplease."
I backhanded her, hard, the sound ugly and exciting to me
as her head jerked to the side, my other hand still
entwined in that beautiful, silky, long blonde hair. "Shut
up, bitch," I slapped her again, her cry of surprise and
shock and pain like fucking music, like a fucking
aphrodisiac. "Shut the hell up."
A sound caught my attention, and I turned toward the door,
a savage snarl twisting my lips as I crouched over my
prize. It was opening, and I watched, as if in slow
motion, John and then Greg step into my office. The girl
bucked against my grip, her hands clawing at my wrists as
she tried to stand.
"Help me! Help!" she screamed at them, the hope of rescue
making her frantic, making her strong. She got half way to
her feet before I turned on her, my fist slamming into her
straining body, hitting her directly in the sternum, making
her wheeze horribly, those bright blue eyes clouding with
pain as she fell to her knees, then onto her hands, until
she was kneeling on the ground, a beautiful, hot, sexy,
fucking bitch on all fours while Greg, John, and I stared
at each other.
Greg is a small man, sharp, handsome, and completely
amoral, which is why I chose him. He looked like he walked
out of a factory for accountants, which wasn't too much of
a surprise since he was one. He had a family, two
daughters, but didn't seem to mind the thought of leaving
them, although from some of the things he said I figured he
was fucking them; sick, but they weren't mine, so I didn't
really care. John is something altogether different. He
looks like a construction worker who fell into a suit.
Hell, he looks like muscle, but he's probably the smartest
of the three of us, and a damned fine accountant too,
especially when it comes to cooking the books.
If it had been anyone else who had walked through that
door, I probably would have killed them. As it was I
waited, Cathy on her hands and knees trying to suck oxygen
into her lungs, watching them as they took in the scene.
John turned toward the door, and I watched. A smile spread
over my face as I watched him close the door and silently
lock it. Greg looked at Cathy, then at me, and asked,
"What have we got here?"
"A gift," I said, "a gift for our going away party."
I saw their eyes fall back to the girl, who was beginning
to recover. I knew what they were seeing: a young woman
on her knees, sheer black hose defining beautiful thighs,
that short black skirt stretched across of full, firm, hot
fucking ass, her blouse falling to either side of her body,
her breasts swaying beneath her, her sexy blonde hair
shaking as she breathed in deeply. No man who was a man
wouldn't want a piece of that fucking bitch right then and
there.
She looked up at them then, with those big, bright
beautiful blue eyes, pleading, pleading with them to help
her, "Please help me," she begged, and I saw it hit Greg
like a physical blow, saw the transformation, saw the lust
and the desire and cruelty light up his face as he looked
down at her. She saw it too, and tears began to flow from
those gorgeous eyes, a sob catching in her throat as he
eyes sought out John, finding a blank indifference, a mask
of hard stone with bright, shiny eyes.
"Well, show us what you've got," Greg said, still looking
ferally at her.
I obliged, grabbing the bitch by the hair, ignoring her
hands as they gripped my wrist, and pulling her to her
heeled feet, her legs askew as I shook her. When she was
up, I grabbed one of her wrists and twisted it behind her
back, her ass pushing against my groin, making my sight go
red as my cock throbbed and she struggled. I found her
other wrist with my other hand and brought her wrists
together, encircling them both with my hand as I pulled her
back against me, rubbing my groin against her ass as she
sobbed and pleaded.
I grabbed her hair with my free hand and pulled her
upright, her legs splayed for balance as I held her tight
against my body, her full, round breasts thrust forward,
straining at her bra, her bright blue eyes brimming with
tears as Greg walked close to her. He stared into her
eyes, and I saw her lick her lips and swallow, calming in
my grip. He smiled and reached out to touch the side of
her face. She froze, her body motionless but still hot
against mine. His fingers ran slowly down her cheek across
the tender flesh of her slender white neck.
She spoke, her voice controlled for the first time since I
had struck her, but still quivering slightly from beneath
that control. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone. Just let
me go and I won't tell anyone."
She swallowed again, silent, waiting for a response, and I
waited as Greg smiled, his face shining, his eyes bright,
as put his hands on her shoulders, shoulders still shaking
slightly from fear and shock. A horrible grunting cry
escaped those full, sexy lips as Greg brought his knee up
hard, pounding into her groin, making her legs wobble, my
arms turning to steel as she tried to jerk away from me in
her pain until I was practically supporting her whole body
by her hair.
She regained control, still gagging with pain, her legs now
together, wobbling on unsteady legs, as Greg smiled a
sadistic smile, and I smiled right back at him from behind
her while John looked on, only his eyes betraying his
excitement. "Who told you you could talk?" Greg said,
tilting his head to one side, looking into Cathy's tear-
filled eyes. "What's her name," he asked me.
"Cathy Rollins," I said, savoring the words, savoring the
name as if I owned it, as if I owned her.
"So Cathy," Greg ran his hands over her stomach, causing
her to flinch away from him, but she was a quick learner,
and didn't say a word. "So Cathy, you are a beautiful
girl. Did anyone ever tell you that?" His hand had found
its way to her back, so that he seemed to be embracing her
with one arm, his so close to hers.
"Answer me!" he commanded, pulling her slightly away from
me even as I was rubbing my groin absently against her
body, the feel of her warmth, of her helplessness between
the two of us, making my whole body throb with lust.
A cracked voice, filled with so much anguish I wanted to
throw her down and rape her right then answered, "Yeàyes."
"I bet someone did, Cathy," he cooed, pressing his body
against hers as he began to nuzzle her neck with his lips,
her sobs seeming to delight him as his hand found her bra
strap and began unhooking it. Tears flooded down her face
as she stood immobilized between the two of us, both of us
rubbing our bodies against her oh so fucking sexy one.
I grunted as I felt Greg free her bra hooks, and I released
her wrists and grabbed the back of her jacket and blouse
and yanked them both free from her body, pulling them down
her arms as Greg held her from the front. I tossed her
clothes to the floor and looked at that back, promising so
much smooth white flesh. She had her hands against Greg's
shoulders, and I could see the way she shuddered her fear,
her fear of fighting, of resisting, and I kicked off my
shoes and walked around where I could watch Greg play with
our plaything.
"Beautiful, just beautiful," Greg whispered, his hand
running across her back. "Let's take a look at your
breasts." He dragged a bra strap from her shoulder down
her arm, still holding her body against his. I looked into
her eyes, staring off into nothingness, and saw them filled
with tears and fear and despair. I dropped my pants, my
hand rubbing my cock through my boxers as I watched Greg
toy with her, sliding her bra completely off, letting it
fall between them to the floor.
He ran his hand up along the back of her head, and I saw
her body start to shake as he stepped back from her, his
eyes devouring her breasts, two full, round, gorgeous
mounds of flesh bulging from her chest, hanging slightly
under their own weight, looking huge on her slender body,
her bright pink nipples hard with fear and the abrasion of
Greg's suit. He pulled her back to her, drowning out one
of her sobs as he brought his lips to hers, pulling her
head down, smothering her with his mouth, his tongue
probing into the hot cavity of her mouth.
Something must have snapped inside her, because she shoved
away from him violently, screaming "NO! NO! You son of a
BITCH!", backing away from him like a wounded animal, her
arms wrapped around her breasts, making them bulge out from
behind them. She looked at me, her hair wild around her
face, her face streaked with tears, her eyes, those fucking
beautiful blue eyes, reflecting terror and despair; she
turned toward John, her eyes pleading, her voice hysterical
as she begged him, "PLEEEZZZE help me, please stop this."
She should have known better. His face changed for the
first time since he had seen her, and he smiled at her, and
I could see the terror build in that sexy body of hers as
she glanced, trapped, from face to face to face confronting
her, seeing only a deep sadism reflected back at her.
She tried to run, slipping past Greg who didn't even try to
stop her, but I did, slamming into her with my shoulder,
knocking her down hard onto her back. Like a pack of
jackals we were on her; I wanted to fuck her, I wanted to
tear her apart with my cock and hear her scream her brains
out as I fucked her. I was shaking with adrenaline and
lust as I tore at her boots and her hose and her skirt
while Greg and John held down her struggling, squirming
body, her screams blending in with my own lust, inflaming
me even more as I stripped her nude.
"Hold her," I heard Greg say, and I grabbed one of her
ankles with one hand while she tried to kick me, my other
hand ridding me of my jacket. I grabbed her other ankle
and held her, looking for the first time at her completely
nude, laying helpless between my and John, who was holding
her hands over her heads. God she had a gorgeous body,
those tits heaving as she still struggled against us, full
and round and firm, her stomach so fucking flat and strong
as her muscles ripples beneath that satiny white skin.
Fuck, and those fucking thighs so lean and firm and sexy as
they writhed in her struggle, her bush a sparse blonde
hiding her cunt. Her fucking cunt which I wanted so bad I
thought my cock was going to burst as I held her and
watched Greg standing over her, his belt in his hand, his
eyes wild with excitement, his breath coming fast.
"Whip her." It was John, and I could see the lust and
sadism in his eyes as they devoured our prize.
"NOOOO!" she screamed as her eyes popped open to watch in
horror as the belt came down on her taut stomach, the sound
of leather against flesh as loud and brutal as her scream.
She bucked in my hands as I held her, her body writhing in
pain as Greg brought the belt down again, against those
tits, making them bounce under the blow as she screamed
again and began sobbing.
Again and again he brought the belt down, driving the
leather into her soft white flesh, against her tits, her
stomach, her thighs, turning her skin a bright shade of red
as she screamed and sobbed and thrashed as John and I held
her down. I couldn't take my eyes off of her straining
body, her bucking, thrashing, twisting, screaming fucking
body. Let me tell you, let me fucking tell you, there is
nothing more erotic than a woman in pain; I had to fuck
her.
I let her go and stood up, tearing off my boxers and my
shirt as she pulled up her knees to her chest, her arms
still bound, the only sound in the office now her sobs,
horrible, wracking sobs of pain and despair which seemed to
penetrate my mind and make my cock throb harder and harder.
I knelt down and dragged her knees apart, my mind fogged
with lust as I fell on top of her, making her gasp between
her sobs. I felt those long sexy legs slide down my side,
down my legs, sending shivers up and down my body; I felt
those full round breasts squashed beneath my chest, that
hot stomach heaving against mine, her whole body an engine
running for my pleasure, for my fucking pleasure.
I reached down and grabbed my cock, looking at her profile
as she turned her face away from me, her eyes clenched
shut, her face strewn with wisps of blonde hair sticking to
her tears. I wedged myself against her cunt, my precome
wetting her, helping me push past her labia until I felt
myself up against her hole. She squirmed and struggled
still, her teeth clenching as I reached up and grabbed her
fucking hair, that fucking blond fucking hair and jerked
her head back and smashed my lips against her fucking sexy
oh so fucking soft and sexy lips, tasting her scream as I
jammed my cock into her dry cunt, tasting her fear and pain
and despair as I raped myself into her fucking snatch.
I drove my tongue into that hot, wet cavern of her mouth,
my whole body on fire as her cunt spasmed around my cock as
I smashed the head against her cervix, her legs drawing up
in pain and a whining echoing from her throat. Her whole
body was taut with denial as I began fucking her hard,
drawing my cock from her gripping fucking cunt before
driving it back in to pound into her cervix. She was so
good, so fucking good, still struggling beneath me, still
running her legs alongside my own and my sides as she tried
to futily close them, still sobbing and crying and gasping
as I tasted her every emotion with my tongue.
I had found that wetness deep in her cunt, or maybe it was
my own precome, but the ride got easier, and my cock began
to thrum along with my body. Each time I drove into her
body she grunted. I slid my mouth from those so soft lips
and dragged them to her neck, stopping my brutal fucking,
wanting this to last, wanting to feel this forever as my
body shook uncontrollably as I began sucking on that
beautiful white neck, my cock buried to its hilt in her
steaming hot fucking cunt.
I ground my cock around inside her, savoring the
sensations, savoring the sobs of defeat coming from her
throat. I started fucking her again, slowly, brutally,
feeling my own pleasure build up, forcing myself to go
slow, to keep my rhythm steady, feeling my orgasm coming
from a long way off, knowing it was coming, knowing I would
be spitting my come deep inside the belly of this gorgeous
young woman as she mewled and squirmed beneath me. I
sucked harder on her neck, then started chewing on it, my
hand tangled in her hair, my body alive with the sensation
of her beneath me, her neck, her chest, her breasts, her
stomach, her cunt, her sweet, sweet cunt, her thighs, even
her calves. I felt everything as a low moan began to come
from deep within my chest.
It was coming, it was coming, I was about to explode even
as I held back but I couldn't stop it as I let out a
guttural, animal yell, my thighs quivering as my cock
throbbed buried deep within her clutching pussy, spitting
wad after wad of come into her writhing belly, pleasure
almost akin to pain crawling along my spine, making me gasp
again and again. She knew, she fucking knew I was coming,
and that made it even better, to know that she knew I had
raped her, had taken her brutally and filled her with my
fucking seed. I lay there on top of her for a long minute,
my body suffuse with pleasure, rocked gently by her sobbing
body.
I lifted myself off of her, my cock still hard as I pulled
it from her raped snatch. I stood, looking down at her, at
that beautiful, sexy body I had just had. I squeezed my
cock, feeling it jerk in my hand with pleasure, as I gazed
at those long, lean legs, slightly parted now in defeat, at
those slender yet womanly hips, at that flat, gorgeous
stomach, at those incredible breasts heaving with her
sobbing, at that face, that model's face, more beautiful
now streaked with tears and pain. I shuddered and looked
at John who looked at Greg. "Who's next?"
Greg nodded to John, who smiled, and lifted Cathy up by her
arms. She staggered as he grabbed her by the forearm and
led her over to my desk. She didn't make a sound as John
bent her over my desk while I went to the other side and
grabbed her wrists. An idea occurred to me and I pulled
some scotch tape from my desk drawer and wrapped it around
her wrists. She didn't even look at me, just stood there,
half bent over my desk, while I bound her arms. God she
was a good looking cunt, I thought. Finishing, I grabbed
her wrists and pulled them down on the other side of the
desk until her head was hanging over the edge, her breasts
pillowing themselves beneath her, pressing into the warm
mahogany wood of my desk. "She's got a nice ass," John
said, running his hands over the twin mounds of her ass.
She did have a great ass, especially for such a slender
woman; shapely, full, the skin soft and white and smooth.
I was going to fuck her there, I thought as I looked across
the table at John rubbing and pinching and slapping her
ass, making her jerk against the table where I held her.
He quickly stripped, staring at Cathy's gorgeous ass.
John's cock popped out, and I smiled. It was big, very
big, almost eight inches of meat he was going to feed her.
I wondered how she would feel having that thing in her,
fucking her, hurting her. I grabbed her by the hair and
lifted her head up so I could look into her face, her tear
streaked face with those gorgeous lips and those gorgeous
eyes. Her eyes were closed, but I could tell just by the
expression on her face what John was doing. It must have
hurt when he put it in, even though I had lubed her cunt
up. Her face twisted and she shuddered, a soft sob
escaping her lips at the same time. I heard John gasp, and
the sound of flesh against flesh, and I knew he was inside
her. Her lips quivered, and her eyes teared up again as I
heard the slap of flesh against flesh again, and again, and
again, John brutally fucking her abused cunt from behind,
like an animal, while I held her head up, watching her
face, breathing my breath into hers, watching her pain and
her humiliation flash in expression after expression across
those gorgeous features, knowing that she knew that I was
watching and that it was almost as bad as being raped.
I was lost, drunk by the sight of her face, when I heard
another sound, and saw her eyes pop open in surprise and
pain, those deep blue pools shiny with tears, saw her lips
widen in an O as she grunted out a cry of pain. I knew it
was Greg, knew it was the belt against her back or her ass,
but I couldn't look away from those eyes, from those
gorgeous eyes so filled with pain and despair they were
actually shimmering. I shivered in pure lust, my cock hard
again, hurting, as I watched that beautiful face twist
itself into a mask of pain and shame.
I heard John grunt, and then grunt again, and I knew he was
coming inside her, and she knew, and she closed those eyes
running with tears and started sobbing again, each blow of
the belt dragging another painful sob from her chest. Then
the sound stopped and I dropped her head, letting it fall,
and stood, thinking that I should just take that sexy mouth
of hers right then, right there, but Greg hadn't had his
turn yet.
"She's a good fuck," John said, still looking down at her
ass. "A sweet goddamned fuck. And when you hit her with
the belt, Greg, I thought her cunt was going to snap my
cock off." Greg just smiled, and we all looked at each
other and smiled.
Greg made a motion, and I nodded to John. He grabbed
beautiful Cathy Rollins by her beautiful blonde hair and
dragged her from her bent-over position, making that
beautiful back of hers arch, her breasts jutting out before
he threw her rudely to the floor, that hair covering her
sobbing face, her hands, still bound, supporting her torso
as she lay on her side, those gorgeous legs bent at the
knees. I grabbed my cock and gave it a squeeze, feeling it
pulse with pleasure in response. Cathy, Cathy was one hell
of a looker.
Greg went around and rolled my chair, a large leather-bound
model befitting a vice-president of a major international
corporation, in front of her and methodically stripped off
his clothes, his eyes never leaving her prostrate form.
The room was filled with silence except for the sound of
his clothes sliding from his body and an occasional sob
from Cathy.
When he finished disrobing he sat down, slumping forward,
holding his cock in one hand, straight up in the air.
ôCome over here, Cathy,ö he said, his eyes bright with
lust, ôand suck my cock.ö We all waited, watching the
girl, half wondering what she was going to do, half hoping
that she would resist, that she would give us one more
excuse to abuse and defile that gorgeous body. She sobbed
once, and then began moving, crawling on her knees, toward
Greg, her head down, that long blonde hair sticking to the
sweat on her shoulders and breasts and back.
I watched, my cock in my hand, as she reached Greg, as she
took his cock at the base with her bound hands, as she
opened those gorgeous, full pink lips and slid her mouth.