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Archive name: crew.txt (MMF, voy, orgy, reluc)
Authors name: Marcia Hooper (marciar26@aol.com)
Story title : Crew, The

------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2002. As the author, I claim all rights 
under international copyright laws. This work is not 
intended for sale, but please feel free to post this 
story to other archives or newsgroups, keeping the 
header and text intact. Any commercial use of this 
work is expressly forbidden without the written 
permission of the author. 
------------------------------------------------------

The Crew (MMF, voy, orgy, reluc)
by Marcia Hooper (marciar26@aol.com)

***

Lacey is so miserable alone in the Philippines. No 
friends, a pig for a landlord, a boss who's worse and 
a cottage that's barely livable. One Saturday morning 
she is startled out of her self-pleasure by noises 
outside. Has she been seen through the open window? 
Did the landlord finally send the promised workers, 
only to catch her off guard? Read this ten-page short 
story to find out. 

***

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to portray 
any person living or dead, nor any known situation. 
It is meant for adults only and is not to be read by 
person's under the age of 18, or the legal age in the 
county/state/country in which the reader resides. 

If you would like a Microsoft Word or Wordperfect 
version of this story (a much easier read), please 
contact me at MarciaR26@aol.com

This story is adapted from the short story 
"Persuasive Workmen" by Svensyn. It was posted in 
Archive 16 of Kristen's Collection. Because the 
author asked that his address be withheld, I was 
unable to contact him in order to secure his 
permission in using his story. I apologize for that. 
I hope the author will understand. 

The original story concerned a young man alone in the 
Philippines. I was unaware at first that the story 
was about a gay man (duh!), but it was so good, I 
just had to finish reading. I loved it. The scenario 
was just so crazy! I thought how crazy it would be 
happening to me, LOL! Then I thought of my character 
Lacey from the story "Hapless," and knew I had to 
write a "girl" version for myself. This is it. I 
apologize again to Svensyn for borrowing his work.


The Crew

by Marcia Hooper (MarciaR26@aol.com)
Adapted from "Persuasive Workmen" by Svensyn.

***

It was her first important assignment, her first time 
overseas and her first encounter with a foreign 
language. It was also her birthday.

Happy twenty-third birthday, Lacey thought.

Landing in Manila on September twenty-third, Lacey 
considered Manila not such a bad city. The people 
were nice, the streets were fairly clean, and she 
enjoyed the food. She didn't get sick from the water. 
But after a week, she was shipped off to Davao, to 
the factory's location, and Davao was no Manila. 
Davao was not even Tijuana. To Lacey, Davao was the 
armpit of the Philippines.

Her first days in Davao were a girl's worst 
nightmare. (Short of being raped and murdered.) The 
cottage had no electricity and no running water; it 
took two days to get the power turned on. Three days 
more for water. Until then, Lacey holed up in a rat-
infested motel, desperate for escape. On hindsight, 
she thought she might have preferred the rats. 

The air conditioning consisted of three window units 
spread throughout the house. The only one in service 
was the one in the bedroom (thank God for that), 
which was where she spent most of her time. The roof 
leaked over the utility room out back, and there was 
a continually expanding circle on the ceiling of the 
second bedroom. She had neither cable TV nor 
satellite service, and it was only on the ninth day 
that her telephone worked. Then, at least, she could 
log on.

Thank God, for AOL.

On the tenth day, Saturday the twelfth of October, 
Lacey celebrated her birthday. Alone. She lighted a 
single candle atop a Sarah Lee pound cake, and making 
a wish, blew it out. She had no friends in Davao and 
other than one girl at work (who brightened Lacey's 
world immensely by inviting her out for a birthday 
dinner), the rest considered Lacey an interloper. No 
one locally spoke English and Lacey knew no Filipino 
at all. The only bright spot in her life was knowing 
that Kenneth was just as miserable.

Perhaps.

Saturday morning, Lacey slept in, enjoying the 
relative comfort of her bedroom. She leisurely 
masturbated, nude except for her panties, which 
gradually migrated down her thighs to her ankles. 
That's where they stayed, where Kenneth would like.

Just over five feet five inches tall, Lacey had coal 
black hair and eyes, a razor thin nose and a wide, 
but thinly-lipped mouth. Her breasts were comically 
small, bearing pea-sized nipples and aureole barely 
large as a dime. Her genitals were free of hair, 
including that area surrounding her anus, into which 
she had placed a finger. 

"You need to get up," she murmured.

Right, Annie replied. 

"We do." 

Anne was Lacey's middle name, and her inner 
companion. With her since childhood, Annie was her 
best, and sometimes only friend. 

"Don't make me hurt you," Lacey said.

Rolling onto her stomach, Lacey let the finger inside 
her coax her hips off the bed. They continued to rise 
until Lacey was in a halfway raised position--her 
favorite. Then she inserted the middle finger of her 
left hand into her vagina, and played finger-tag 
through her flesh.

You are such a dog, Annie said. Give me a camera!

"Shut up," Lacey mumbled. Her eyes were shut and her 
breathing forcibly slow; she was long practiced at 
remaining aroused. Kenneth often filmed her that way. 
"I wish I had my dildo," she moaned.

I wish you did too. The guy looking in the window 
would just love that up your ass.

Lacey shook her head. "The window is closed."

Guess again, hon.

Lacey opened an eye. The blind was half-raised and 
the curtains open. As usual, Annie was her 
insufferably, correct self. 

"No one can see in," she equivocated.

Yes they can, Annie said. You better listen.

The fingers came out of Lacey's behind and vagina. 
She turned over and sat up. When Annie said to 
listen, Lacey usually did. About some things, Annie 
was invariably right. 

"Did you see something?" she asked. 

Annie said: Not saw--heard.

"What did you hear?"

A ladder?

"A ladder?" Lacey repeated. "Where?"

Out back. 

Lacey got up and threw on her robe. She went into the 
kitchen. Suddenly, her breathing was very labored. 
"Oh, please," she said. "Please don't tell me."

The day before, her landlord had promised to send out 
a crew. Taking half a day off, Lacey set all 
afternoon and fumed. Only at four-fourty five did she 
call. Of course, the bastard was apologetic.

"I am sorry Ms. Kincaide," he had said. 

Lacey cut the man him off. "One o'clock, you said! No 
later than two, you said! I waited here all 
afternoon! I missed important work! My supervisor 
will kill me! He already yelled at me this morning!"

In truth, Mr. Herrera had called her a ninny. A 
stupid ninny. He berated her in a manner, which no 
American boss ever had. Since first meeting him ten 
days before, Lacey had fought his constant advances, 
growing more alarmed--and repulsed--by the day. 
Herrera was an octopus with hands. With everything 
she did, he found fault. He had threatened to can 
her. With this latest fiasco, she understood that 
nothing stood between her and his office couch if she 
hoped to keep her job. Come Monday morning, baring a 
miracle, her mouth would envelop his penis. 

"Ms. Kincaide," the landlord said. "I am sorry for 
your anguish. I will try to get a crew out first 
thing in the morning. I promise."

Lacey had laughed in his face. "I don't believe you!" 
she cried, a total deviation from Lacey behavior. 
"You better have them here Monday morning, you ass, 
seven o'clock at the latest, or I'll sue your ass!" 

Then she had slammed down the phone.

"I don't see anything," she said now, looking out the 
window. Nothing was visible save the slatted wooden 
fence bordering the neighbor's yard.

Out back, Lace. Not the fucking side yard.

"Okay, okay. No need to get testy."

Opening the door to the utility room, Lacey went 
inside. Windows either side of the small room showed 
no one in sight. "Satisfied?" she asked. 

I know I heard something, Annie said. I didn't make 
it up.

"I didn't say you did. You were just mistaken." She 
shut the door and locked it. "Can I go shower now?"

You may take a bath.

Lacey felt a thrill. "A bubble bath?" she asked.

I should punish you with cold water.

Lacey stuck out her lip. "You wouldn't do that."

Annie said nothing.

At home, one of Kenneth's favorite diversions was 
listening to Lacey talk. She routinely carried on a 
conversation, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for 
hours on end. She talked about her day at work, her 
favorite TV shows, even Kenneth's latest demands. The 
most amusing thing was not that she seemed unaware 
that she did it, but how she kowtowed to herself--or 
to Annie, whichever was worse. Of the pair, Kenneth 
often wished he were fucking Annie.

Postponing her bath, Lacey cleaned. She scrubbed the 
in-need-of replacement kitchen floor, straightened 
the living room, changed her bedclothes, rearranged 
the shelves out back, and scrubbed the back porch. 
All save for the back porch she performed in the 
nude. For the porch, she donned a bikini top and 
shorts. Then she took her bath.

"What do you think of Andre?" she asked, playing with 
her ruby-colored nipples. She teased them into full 
attention. 

Annie sighed. Okay, I guess.

Andre was the plant foreman, and the cutest man 
there. He had eyes for Lacey Kincaide.

"Okay?" she said. "Just okay? I think he's 
delicious."

He's also married.

"So?"

So, he's married. Not that it's ever mattered before.

"Hey!" Lacey objected. "That's nice!"

You want nice? Buy a puppy.

Teasing up soap bubbles around her nipples, Lacey 
played hide and seek. They slowly appeared through 
the foam.

"You know how horny I am?" she asked.

I think this morning made it pretty clear.

Lacey thought of herself on the bed, playing finger 
tag through her flesh. Then she thought of Andre 
Mercurio, observing her through the half-open window. 
She slid way down in the water. She blew bubbles with 
her mouth.

"Nineteen days," she said.

I know how long.

"I haven't been nineteen days without sex, since I 
was twelve."

You are disgusting, Annie said. 

Lacey stuck out her lip. 

Right. Your answer to everything.

Lacey slapped the water. "I can't help it!" she 
cried. "I'm horny! I need a dick!"

You need a good spanking! 

"That too!" she cried. "But I need a dick first!"

Truculently, Lacey crossed her arms over her chest 
and pouted. "I want my Daddy." 

*

Towel drying her hair, Lacey went into the kitchen. 
She wanted a coke. She was very much aroused. Her 
nipples ached. She throbbed deep within her organs. 
Counting backwards on her fingers, Lacey understood 
why. She was ovulating.

Well gee, girlie-girl. Big surprise there.

Lacey was about to shoot back a reply when she 
spotted two men through the kitchen window. She 
nearly freaked.

Ducking down beside the counter, Lacey hurriedly 
covered herself up. "Holy God!" she said. "What are 
they doing out there?"

The men were in the side yard, inspecting what Lacey 
guessed was the living room air conditioner. They had 
either had not seen her, or they didn't let on. 
Peeking out the glass, Lacey wrapped herself in the 
towel and headed back to the bedroom.

The front doorbell rang.

"Shit!" Lacey said, afraid to move. Either side of 
the door was a row of small-paned windows. Through 
them she saw someone stoop and peer in, then put his 
hand to the glass to shade his eyes. The doorbell 
continued to ring.

"Shit!" She repeated.

With nothing on but her towel, Lacey was not opening 
the door. But, there was that damned face at the 
window, and now he was waving at her, making Lacey's 
embarrassment even worse. Then someone pounded on the 
door. Lacey made a fateful decision. Chagrined, she 
clasped the towel tightly around her, and went to the 
door.

"Si?" she demanded.

There were eight of them in all, mostly wearing t-
shirts and jeans. One man, a darkly tanned Filipino 
in his late thirties, had on a badly knotted tie. He 
stepped forward from the group. He touched his 
forehead. 

"Por favor," he said. Then he switched to accented, 
but perfectly understandable English. "We are the 
work crew, sent to fix your air conditioners and 
roof."

"At four o'clock in the afternoon?" Lacey asked. It 
was closer to four-thirty.

The man shrugged. "Si. We only finished our last job 
an hour ago--" he conferred rapidly with a man to his 
left "--but the work took longer than we expected. 
The owner, Senor Martinez, insisted that we come. I 
always honor Mr. Martinez's wishes."

Lacey nodded. Her own run-ins with the landlord were 
anything but sweet. Still, she hesitated.

"We can come back tomorrow," the man said. "But we 
might not be able to get parts. If anything should 
need repair."

Lacey was stuck. Getting the job completed today--
even at this late hour--meant not missing work Monday 
morning. "Okay," she said. "Come in."

Introducing himself as Enrique, the man then 
identified Miguel, his crew chief and Manuel, the 
roofer. The six other names Lacey immediately forgot. 

Miguel, who looked about Lacey's age and was wirily 
built (all the men were wirily built) and had a tool 
belt slung over his shoulder. He would see to the air 
conditioners, along with one other, while Manuel 
tended to the roof. Lacey said fine and headed for 
the bedroom.

At this point, things could have--should have--gone 
well. But Lacey's clothes, laid out on the bed before 
her shower, were badly wrinkled. As she set up the 
ironing board and unwrapped the iron's cord, the 
power went off.

Disgusted, she went out to the front porch. Leaning 
over the railing, she called: "What's going on?" 

Miguel, removing the air conditioner's cover, shook 
his head. 

"You speak English?" she called.

Miguel shook his head.

"Where's Enrique?"

Miguel indicated Enrique had left.

"Great," Lacey sighed. "Who speaks English then?"

They all shook their heads. Lacey's stomach began to 
burn.

As best she could, Lacey determined that the power 
would be out for an hour. Why they had pulled the 
plug entirely, she couldn't discern. It was not 
something conveyable with sign language. She closed 
the door and retreated into her bedroom. 

First trying to smooth out the wrinkles by hand, 
Lacey tried stretch-ironing her clothes. That didn't 
work. Then she considered grabbing her discarded 
clothes from earlier that day, but they were sweaty 
and covered with dirt. Disgusted, she pulled a t-
shirt and a pair of shorts out of her drawers. She 
prepared to put them on. Just as she removed the 
towel, however, there was a commotion from the living 
room, and Lacey wrapped the towel back on.

From her bedroom door, she saw that Miguel had pushed 
the air conditioner into the room. Much larger than 
Lacey had imagined, it canted forward from the 
casement, ready to fall. There were shouts from 
outside and suddenly one of the crewmen burst through 
the front door. He rushed over to the dangling unit 
and, struggling mightily, hauled it to a horizontal 
position. Veins stood out on his face; his muscles 
bulged. Looking around, he found Lacey standing in 
the hallway, and motioned her forward. 

"Me?" Lacey asked, a finger touching her chest. You 
must be kidding!

The man nodded.

"No way!" she said, shaking her head and hands. 

But the unit dipped lower as the seconds went by and 
the man began to look desperate. Lacey, torn between 
her modesty and fear of loosing the unit, came 
forward. "Mother fuck," she whispered. 

Taking up position on the other side of the unit, 
Lacey grabbed the frame. The machine was incredibly 
heavy. No wonder he looked ready to burst, she 
thought. Together they brought the unit back level 
and slid it into the casement. Halfway in, the unit 
stuck. 

While Lacey held most of the load, the workman--
Morito was his name--kept one hand on the chassis and 
the other trying to fix the slide. Lacey grunted when 
he released the unit entirely.

"Can't someone else do this?" she complained. The 
weight made her bend at the knees. 

Morito, carrying on a shouted conversation with 
Miguel, outside, ignored her words. Then, to Lacey's 
horror, the towel began to loosen. She jammed her 
breasts against the compressor and her hip against 
the chassis.

"Hurry up!" she demanded.

Morito, reacting to her heated words, looked up. He 
blinked in confusion, then grabbed the machine. Then 
he released it again to grab a wrench and a pry bar 
passed in by Miguel. The unit sagged lower, forcing 
Lacey down too. Her towel loosened almost to the 
point of letting go.

This is not happening! she frantically thought. She 
looked down and saw her left nipple. Oh, Jesus! Oh, 
Jesus, no!

"Morito!" she yelled.

Morito looked up and blinked in confusion, then 
laughed. Lacey lost her temper.

"I'm dropping this thing!" she yelled. "Right on your 
foot!" She started to count, got only to two, and 
then her towel worked free loose. With a swiftness 
that made her heart flip, the towel fell away and 
puddled at her feet. She looked at Morito, who looked 
at her, and then she let out a shriek.

This is not happening! This is not happening at all!

But it was!

With a surge of panic, Lacey dropped the machine and 
grabbed for her towel. Left unsupported, the unit 
began a backwards slide and reaching the halfway 
point, overbalanced and fell. Lacey shrieked as the 
machine swung hard against her shoulder, knocking her 
flat on her can. Then she shrieked again as she 
yanked her feet clear the machine crashed to the 
floor in a shower of dust and debris, burying Lacey's 
towel. She sat there, naked and spread wide, while 
Morito stared dumbfounded at her crotch.

Lacey thought: This is it. This is the nightmare I 
had in junior high. This is getting caught outside 
the girl's locker room with no clothes on and having 
everyone laugh. Then she thought: No, this is having 
Jimmy Maclane and Bobby Rideour and Andy McCall 
taking pictures of me through my bedroom window and 
sending those pictures to all their friends and to my 
friends as well, and then finding them in my own e-
mail.

Miguel and two others stared wide-eyed at her through 
the open casement, and then Manuel rushed in through 
the back door, a helper right on his heels. She had 
just begun to cover herself when the seventh and 
final worker burst in through the front. Everyone 
stopped dead. Everyone except Lacey, who screamed at 
the top of her lungs as she covered herself up and 
ran frantically to the bedroom. 

*

What happened up to that point was unfortunate, but 
forgivable. What happened later was not. 

The workers, amused by Lacey's plight, joked the rest 
of the afternoon. Manuel took his men back on the 
roof, and before sunset arrived, had found and 
patched all the leaks. Miguel discovered the air 
conditioner to be undamaged and, after repairing the 
slides, remounted it in the wall. Aside from needing 
a charge of Freon, it worked just fine. At seven 
o'clock, when the work crew finally left, the living 
room was practically frigid.

As you might expect, Lacey was devastated by the 
event. For a time, she hid behind her bedroom door, 
tucked into a shivering ball. She fought hysteria and 
hyperventilation. Finally, she did what all women do 
to maintain their equilibrium in a sex-crazed world: 
She adjusted. She coped. She contended. 

Getting to her feet, Lacey put all thoughts of what 
happened out of her mind. She hummed to herself, 
softly. She lowered the blinds. She plugged in the 
iron and spent half an hour ironing her clothes. 
Then, still totally naked, she stood by her bed and 
examined her white cotton slacks and peach colored 
top. Then she began to laugh. 

Oh, my God, she thought. Did that actually happen?

In commiseration, Annie said: I'm sorry. I'm afraid 
it did.

"I am so embarrassed."

You have a right to be, Annie said. Even I wish I 
weren't there.

Putting her hand over her mouth, Lacey said: "Did you 
see their faces? My, God, Annie! I showed them it 
all."

Annie couldn't stop laughing. 

Lacey repeated, "I am so embarrassed."

Facing her chagrin, Lacey dressed and left the 
bedroom. She stood at the end of the hallway, red 
faced and insecure, watching Miguel and Morito.

As soon as they saw her, everyone laughed.

"I am so sorry," she said. Her face, were she to 
touch it, would surely burn her fingers. She 
apologized again, and so did the workers.

At six o'clock, she fixed them all cokes and 
something to eat. Morito, famished, gulped the 
sandwich down in four bites and Lacey just had to 
laugh. They laughed along with her. 

Over the next hour, Lacey and Miguel grew to know 
each other fairly well--as well as pantomime and hand 
signs would allow. Miguel showed her the inner 
workings of the machine that had nearly killed her, 
and Lacey explained--or tried to explain--what was 
wrong with the washer and dryer. The kitchen faucet 
she forgot. 

By seven o'clock as the men prepared to leave, Lacey 
felt a growing chagrin. She could not deny her 
growing attraction to Miguel, and she felt it from 
him. She also felt, had either one spoken the other 
one's language, Miguel would have asked her out. 

*

Three blocks from Lacey's cottage was an eatery 
called Reynoldo's. There, she and Maribel ate. Lacey 
had smoked Mullet and seasoned vegetables, while 
Maribel ate a local dish Lacey could not pronounce 
and would never eat. At nine o'clock, after walking 
Lacey home, Maribel disappeared into the night.

At nine-thirty the doorbell rang. It was Miguel, 
Manuel, and three of the others. 

They all carried cameras.

It took a while, but Lacey eventually grasped it was 
she they wanted to photograph. Flabbergasted, she 
poked her own chest.

"Me?" she said.

Miguel nodded.

"But why?"

To her mortification, they made Lacey understand.

"In the nude?" 

They all nodded yes. They understood what nude meant. 

Aghast, Lacey shook her head, no.

The men argued among themselves, then Miguel made 
digits with his hand. "Two hundred dollar," he said.

Lacey laughed. "You've got to be crazy!"

The men argued some more. Finally, Miguel took out 
his wallet and extracted a trio of one hundred dollar 
bills. He raised his eyebrows.

"No," Lacey said.

But between her thighs, something had stirred. She 
shifted uncomfortably.

"Listen," she said, motioning to the door. "You guys 
better go."

Miguel pulled another from his wallet and Lacey, 
exasperated and surprisingly hurt, wanted to scream, 
"No!" But, she also wanted to say yes. If for no 
other reason than her frustration and disappointment. 

So much for him liking me, Annie, she thought. He's 
no better than the others.

Fuck this joker, hon, Annie replied.

Fuck him is right! Fuck him and Kenneth and Martinez 
and especially that son-of-a-bitch Herrera! 

Instead, Lacey shook her head. 

Frustrated, Miguel took her hand and placed in it the 
four one hundred dollar bills. He added a fifth one 
hundred dollar bill. Five hundred dollars to pose. 

"No!" Lacey exploded, pointing at the door. "Now get 
out!"

Then Miguel said, "One thousand dollar," and Lacey 
stopped dead.

A thousand dollars? To pose in the nude?

Annie said: Go for it, girl!

And Lacey did.

*

At the small bar, Lacey brought out her full array of 
bottles. A fifth of Jack Daniels, a bottle of wine, 
and a fifth of Philippine whisky. She took out six 
glasses. 

"Help yourselves," she said.

Miguel and one of his helpers, Roberto, fixed their 
drinks straight up. Antonio and Juan, who belonged to 
Manuel, made theirs with water. Manuel asked for a 
beer; Lacey pointed him toward the kitchen. Then she 
poured a shot of Jack Daniels for herself, and drank 
it neat.

"Miguel?"

Miguel looked up from his camera.

Moving her hands one over the other in a negative 
gesture, Lacey said: "No sex. Understand?"

Miguel grinned, but nodded his head. He repeated 
Lacey's words: "No sex."

"None," Lacey said. "Nada, Nine, Kaput."

Miguel nodded again.

"Okay," she said. "What do I do?"

Indicating Lacey should remove her shirt, Miguel 
raised his camera. As she undid the buttons, and drew 
her shirt aside, Miguel, Antonio and Roberto fired 
away.

What, Lacey wondered, am I doing? 

In just her brassiere, Lacey moved this way and that, 
posing with determination, if not much grace. She 
felt so utterly weird. Miguel, seemingly an expert 
with the camera, directed her actions. Soon, Lacey 
had warmed to the job and began to lithely pose.

"I need to shut the blinds," she said. Arms currently 
over her head, and her belt unbuckled, Lacey felt 
eyes staring in. 

Miguel shook his head. 

Pointing to the window above the air conditioner, 
Lacey made closing motions. Miguel shook his head, 
no. She put her hands on her hips. Did he not 
understand? Or did he not care? Or did he want them 
to see? 

Pursing her lips, she said. "Fine. Whatever you 
want," and unzipped her pants.

From all directions, shutters snapped and flashbulbs 
burst; Lacey continued to pose. When her pants were 
off and she wore only her panties and bra, Lacey 
whispered, "He's going to make me to take them off. I 
don't want to take them off." She knew exactly how a 
centerfold felt.

Instructed by Miguel to sit down, Lacey sat in the 
middle of the floor. He had her recline and stretch 
out her legs. For the next five minutes, Lacey did 
everything but expose herself.

But she knew that was coming

"This," she muttered, "is utterly gay."

Focusing his lens on her crotch, Miguel had Lacey 
lean far back. She drew up her knees and spread her 
legs wide. Then he made her spread them some more. He 
motioned her to draw aside her panties.

"I won't do that," Lacey said to them, softly. Then 
she did.

Oh, my God, Annie. What have I done?

Annie remained silent. Lacey could sense her fear.

Coming in for a close-up, Miguel photographed Lacey's 
crotch. Then he shot her from different angles, 
always with hands in the shot. She did whatever 
Miguel said. She put in a finger, then a second. She 
alternately wanted to cry, and to laugh out loud.

I am such an ass! 

Calm down, Lace! Annie warned. She sensed Lacey's 
panic. It's not as bad as you think.

How bad does it need to be, Annie!

Going to one knee, Miguel placed his hand on Lacey's 
right hip. Knowing what he intended, Lacey lifted her 
butt. Miguel took off her panties. She began to 
shake.

Okay, smart ass! What do I do now?

Just try to hold on, okay? It'll be all right.

All right? Annie! I'm gonna fuck five guys!

Do only what you want to, Annie said.

I don't want to do anything! Lacey wailed. Then 
Miguel removed her brassiere.

Shooting her from every angle and direction, the men 
encircled Lacey. They had her on her back, on her 
sides and on her stomach. They concentrated on her 
small breasts, making Lacey jut them forward. She 
teased her nipples erect. She wet them. And all the 
while, Lacey's arousal and fear factor grew, hand in 
hand.  

Annie?

Yes, Lace?

I'm going to fuck them.

Is that what you want?

That's what my insides tell me.

Then do it, Lace.

Flat on her stomach, head on her right arm, Lacey 
waited. When Miguel indicated for her to raise her 
rear end, Lacey complied. The room became very still. 

Moving directly behind her, Miguel shot from low 
level, moving slowly away. Lacey rose higher in 
increments, chest flat to the floor, her hands by her 
sides for support. She felt like a Hustler 
centerfold.

"I want to stop," she whispered. She continued to 
rise. 

Eventually, Lacey could rise no more. Her tail, now 
fully splayed, lay bare her anus. Cool air kissed its 
surface. Antonio and Juan captured her from behind 
and she could here their ragged breathing. Miguel's 
cock showed clearly through his pants. He was 
powerfully erect. 

"You are in trouble," Lacey whispered. "So much 
trouble." She closed her eyes. When she opened them 
again, Roberto was stripped to his thong. He was 
huge. The outline of his cock ran ten inches in 
length, maybe longer, maybe as long as a foot. The 
head was a form all it's own. 

"Wait!" Lacey exclaimed, beginning to panic. She 
tried to rise. Manuel restrained her. He sat beside 
her on the floor and put an arm around her shoulders; 
he elicited a smile. "Is okay," he said, in broken 
English. He also, was stripped to his thong. 

After a dozen shots, Miguel had Manuel remove his 
thong. Manuel was big--not the size of Roberto--but 
big enough. Eight inches long and cocked sideways and 
down, his thick penis ended in a small head. Veins, 
like jagged streaks of lightning, ribbed the shaft; 
the color was a bruised purple.

"Wait," Lacey said, again. 

The remaining four stripped off their clothes. Each 
wore a thong. When Roberto removed his, Lacey nearly 
died.

"Wait a minute!" she choked. Her heart trip-hammered 
and her stomach clenched.

A foot long and three inches wide, Roberto's cock was 
nearly beyond description. The head was the size of a 
large plum, and the same color. It looked like a 
dinosaur's head. The shaft was monstrously veined and 
bulged hugely in the middle. It looked deformed. What 
orifice could possibly take that? she thought, 
wildly.

"I can't do this! I have to go home!" she wheezed, 
backing away. To her horror, Manuel took himself in 
hand and began to stroke. Breath lodged in her 
throat. She began to shake. Then Manuel laughed and 
the laughter spread to the other three. They 
continued to shoot.

"Please," Lacey begged. "Let me go." She looked from 
one man to the other, shaking. 

Roberto, his testicles swinging obscenely side to 
side, motioned to Juan, who took up position behind 
her. Antonio moved behind her as well, and then 
Manuel. They struck a pose; four waving erections and 
glittering smiles. 

"Let me go," she pleaded. "Please."

Then they pretended to fuck her.

Antonio, holding his penis right at her mouth--its 
aroma made Lacey lightheaded--made vulgar noises in 
his throat and snickered like a horse. He was the 
smallest of the group, a mere seven inches. Juan, 
nine inches long and proportionally thick, pretended 
to stick himself into her rear. Everyone laughed. 

Then Antonio touched her lips.

Unsure if it were intentional or not--Antonio jerked 
nearly as badly as she--Lacey yelped. The men 
exploded in sudden agitation and everyone yelled. 
Lacey understood nothing. Miguel, flushed and angry, 
berated Antonio, gesticulating with his camera. 
Sensing things would totally unravel, Lacey put up 
her hand. The men grew silent. 

"Look," she said, slowly. "I'm petrified, but it's 
what I want to do." She raised her eyebrows, 
questioningly. "Do you understand?"

Miguel blinked, then nodded slowly. 

"I have to do it on my own, though," she said. "Or 
not at all."

Miguel nodded again.

Going back to all fours, Lacey leaned forward and 
took Antonio into her mouth. He exclaimed loudly. His 
penis contacted and swelled. Lacey trembled in shock. 
Unsure what else to do, Miguel took pictures. The 
rest did as well. Lights snapped from every 
direction. 

Telling Antonio to sit, Lacey dropped to her elbows 
and took his cock in her hand. Antonio reclined to 
get a better view. Lacey masturbated him and began to 
suck. She used her lips and her tongue first, then 
began to lower and raise. She coordinated her 
movements with her hand. Antonio's testicles rose up 
and down as she stroked, and Lacey caressed them with 
her fingertips. She kissed each one and drew it into 
her mouth. She sucked them gently. Antonio rubbed her 
head.

I like this, Annie said.

I like it too.

Will you swallow his come?

Do you want me to?

Annie didn't answer. 

Lacey thought of the millions of tiny sperm, awaiting 
her decision.

Moving behind her, Manuel put a hand on Lacey's back, 
the other on her rear end. He asked permission, and 
Lacey moved beneath his hands, consentingly. He 
placed the head of his cock in her crack, stopped on 
her anus. Lacey moaned. She closed her eyes and 
sucked Antonio's cock.

I'm afraid, Annie.

I'm afraid too.

I've never had one this big, she thought. Not there. 
Not in my ass. She jerked in sudden pain. 

Ouch! they cried, in unison.

Miguel sent Roberto to the kitchen for some 
lubrication, and he returned with a bottle of oil. 
Juan took the bottle and lubed the head of his cock, 
then the puckered circle of Lacey's anus. He worked 
himself in. It still hurt, but not so bad that Lacey 
could not bear it. She began to rock back and forth. 
Manuel took her more deeply.

My God! she thought. This is incredible.

Annie replied: Don't go going hog wild, okay? This 
guy is small. Juan and Roberto are monsters. Miguel 
might be too.

Will they all want my ass?

Annie laughed. Do men want anything else, nowadays?

Concentrating her will, Lacey ignored the discomfort 
in her rear and concentrated on her mouth. She worked 
Antonio slowly into her throat, forcing flat her 
tongue and opening her jaw wide. The head blocked her 
throat, then went inside. She gagged

"Easy girl," Annie cautioned. 

Lacey relaxed her throat. Her gag reflex eased. 

Better, Annie said. Can you take him all?

Lacey took him all.

At her other end, Juan pushed deeper inside. He felt 
mostly in. Slowly, holding her behind, he moved 
himself around in Lacey's ass, and she began to 
relax. Pain gave way to discomfort and discomfort to 
pleasure. Manuel began to ride her. 

They would sell these pictures to a web site, she 
knew, and every eye that wanted to see, anywhere in 
the world, would witness her sodomization. She should 
ask for more money, she thought. Or a portion of the 
take. Set up her own web site, maybe. Wouldn't that 
be brave?

Things became frenzied and soon reached a crescendo. 
Lacey let go of Antonio's cock and placed both hands 
on the floor. Manuel rammed her behind. She made 
atrocious noises. She began to come.

Oh God! Oh God, Annie! Jesus God!

Manuel began to come and tried climbing atop her. Her 
rectum screamed. He came again, harder, and Lacey 
felt his gushing sperm. It was very hot.

Oh God Annie! I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh Jesus Christ 
I'm coming!

Then Antonio was coming also, and jammed himself into 
Lacey's mouth. Come shot onto her tongue. She 
swallowed convulsively, fighting a gag, while Manuel 
came in her ass. 

Oh my God! Oh my God! This is not happening! This is 
not fucking happening!

Annie could not reply. Her mouth and rear end were 
otherwise engaged.

*

Lacey never asked for the pictures, nor any more 
money. No one important would see. No one important 
to her, anyway. It was enough knowing that those with 
interest could observe her with Manuel, Antonio, Juan 
and Roberto. 

As for Miguel, he was doting and kind and truly 
immense. Lacey sat in his lap for a long time that 
night, willing him in. She wrapped her arms around 
his neck, and sometimes cried. Miguel kissed away her 
tears. Language was not a barrier, only her pain. 

Afterwards, they lay together in Lacey's bed, spooned 
together, his cock buried deep within her ass. It 
stayed there all night. In the morning, Miguel 
removed himself gracefully from her bed and left. 
Except for occasional trips to the bathroom, Lacey 
remained where she was all day. 

In another four months, Lacey returned to the United 
States and rejoined her estranged boyfriend, who soon 
thereafter gave Lacey good reason to wish she were 
still in the Philippines.

The End

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. 

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Kristen's collection - Directory 20