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Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 01-06

By: Jigs



1. LUNCH WITH THE GOVERNOR.

I sat down at the elegant table, trying to be ladylike with the best manners I could muster. The Governor of Alabama was talking to me, but I was hardly aware of a word he said. I took a deep breath, trying to relax, but it didn't help. The Governor was so very handsome. His Old Spice aftershave was strong but underneath I could smell his musky male odor. His handshake was firm but friendly, a grip obviously practiced to intimidate men, and melt the hearts of women. He was an old south charmer too. He went out of his way to complement me on my dress, my hair, and my smile. A man like my Governor is simply irresistible to a bitch in heat, and that was me... a bitch in heat. Only such a slut with a pussy on fire would have the dirty thoughts that wandered randomly thru my mind. 

"How big is his cock?" was my first thought, although I quickly decided that a sexy hunk like the Governor must surely have a very big one. I was not yet so panicked as to say anything aloud, but as we talked politely about the weather, my attention remained intently focused on the bulge between his legs. Inevitably, my fixation would lead to yet another question. 

"If I asked him straight out, would he take me to the restroom and show me his big cock, even fuck me with it?" 

I am sure my eyes must have glassed over as that dirty thought grew into a mini-movie churning full bore through my imagination. The mental pictures of this charming stud having sex with me in the hotel men's room were so very crystal clear in every detail. 

I am stooped over a toilet bowl, braced there by my hands on its rim. My legs are spread and straining as my high heels slip and slide on the tile floor. My dress is up over my hips, and my panties are down, hanging useless around one ankle. My blouse is open, and without a bra, my breasts dangle free beneath me. The Governor's huge prick is buried in my pussy, and he is dog fucking me with long delicious strokes that set my tits to swaying. He spanks the cheeks of my ass with the flat of his hand demanding to know if I want him to keep on fucking me. I beg him to continue, pleading for more and deeper, but I try to do so quietly. After all he is the Governor, and I am a widow of a famous preacher. We must be discreet. It is too much for me, however, and in the end I am unable to muffle the scream that welcomes my orgasm.

Outrageous? Of course! I know that! How can a widow of a prominent man of God, and a woman famous as a symbol of morality and piety, sit beside his Excellency the Governor in a public restaurant and wonder about the size of his penis? That I am fantasizing he might take me to the men's room and fuck me from behind as I bend over a toilet bowl is even more impossibly gross. 

Only a female in estrus could be so crass, such a disgusting slut, but I was very near to losing control. Nevertheless, I managed to choke back the lewd and lurid images that were haunting me, and politely agreed that "yes, the weather has been unseasonably warm." Such silly meaningless chatter! How long could I keep it up? My pussy was swollen and open. The crotch of my panties was soaked. A hell fire burned red hot inside my feminine core. I lusted for this man to fuck me, and it was all I could do not to tell him so. 

My Master, the bastard who owned me, instructed me that today I must be prim and proper, a polite and genteel Lady. I knew I would be tied and severely beaten should I fail, but oh my, I almost didn't care. I wanted so badly to be on my back with the Governor's stiff erection stuck between my spread legs. I was desperate to have this man; desperate for him to strip me; desperate for him to yank me by my hair to between his spread legs; desperate for him to make me service his rampant hard-on with my mouth and pussy as if I was his whore, bought and paid for. 

Yet, if he would not take me, in truth any man would do. Governor, fireman, Indian chief, I didn't care, and in the absence of a flesh and blood filled penis, I wasn't too proud to improvise. A dildo! A vibrator! A finger! Something! Anything, to fill my burning pussy, and rub against my clit! I was in such an erotic frenzy that I would have gratefully humped the arm of the very chair I was seated in. Oh Lord, poor me, how I did need the blessed relief of an orgasm. 

You must excuse me, however. I am not really such a slut as all that. Rather, as you will learn, I am a victim, a helpless captive of an evil man who has made me his slave, and used my weakness to drive me into decadence. You see, I do not commonly lust after strangers in a public restaurant, nor was my erotic funk something I wanted, or chose on my own. No, I am not a crazed nymphomaniac at all, but more like a puppet on a string. A cruel man and his bitch of a wife seduced me with blackmail and abuse until I was left without a free will. You would understand had you seen the way I was disciplined for my meeting with the Governor. My abuse was perhaps more intense than usual, but today is a fair example of how for six months now I have been trained and broken to saddle. Let me tell you about it. 

Less than three hours before our lunch, Jimmy Carson hung me by my wrists from a hook in the ceiling, naked and vulnerable, with my toes barely touching the floor. I dangled there, helpless and weeping, as he whipped me across my breasts, belly, ass, and thighs. My beating ended only when he was satisfied with the sincerity of my promises to be an obedient slave who would behave herself at our meeting with the Governor. As always, he was careful not to leave any evidence of my mistreatment behind. The thongs of his cat 'o nine tails were made of plastic that stung terribly, but the red stripes they left on my pale flesh would fade before the day was out. 

After I had been whipped, I was forced to stand at attention and masturbate my pussy with 10 inches of dildo. Master Jimmy, and his wife, Mistress Janet, sat comfortably on the sofa making dirty comments. I am often required to perform for them this way. It pleases my Master and Mistress to watch the push and pull of an over sized artificial penis stretch my hole, and tug at the lips of my tender labia. 

I am always deeply ashamed to play the slut for them that way, but I can never resist the urges that come alive in my cunt when stroked by a cock, whether real or make believe. It was no different this time. I was teetering on the very verge of an impending orgasm when Jimmy interrupted as he so often does. Damn his soul to hell, with one violent yank he pulled my hands away from between my legs, cuffed them behind my back, and pouring salt in the wound, laughed at my distress. 

Oh God! I needed to cum, but my pussy was now hopelessly beyond my reach. Wracked with pre-orgasmic spasms, my belly cramped, my knees buckled, and I began to lose my balance. For all that, however, I somehow stayed on my feet facing my Master and Mistress with my head bowed in shame, and that awful plastic thing still buried to the hilt inside me. Frustrated and unsatisfied, I whimpered pitifully, begging for the release I had been denied, but it was all to no avail. Indeed, my suffering, my trial by humiliation and torment, had only begun. 

Jimmy ordered me to spread my legs farther apart, as far apart as I could make them reach. It was not easy to do that and keep my balance with my hands cuffed behind me, but blushing and mortified, I posed for him in that revealing split while he tested my wet. He ran his finger up and down my slit, and then explored more deeply inside me. I cried out! I could not help it! His finger felt so good! When he took his hand away, his inspecting digit was dripping with the embarrassing evidence of my female excitement. He wiped the soiled finger across my face, before forcing it between my lips. 

Once I had sucked his finger clean, Jimmy made me describe in detail the taste of my pussy. He called me a whore for being so aroused, and insisted that I admit out loud that I wanted him to stick me with his cock. I did as he demanded! Gratefully, and with enthusiasm, I told him I wanted him to fuck me. I even begged him for it. After all, humbled and ashamed as I was to hear the words coming from my mouth, it was true. I did want the bastard to fuck me. I would have given anything, done anything, if only the bastard would have fucked me. 

He did not, however. Instead, next he would make my breasts suffer. 

From his pocket Jimmy brought out a pair of tiny gold rings. They were pretty things, shiny and delicate, especially designed to decorate the breasts of a slave whore. Actually they were not rings at all, but small clasps hinged to open, and then to lock tightly closed around tender female nipples. Jimmy was pitiless as he stretched one teat, and then the other, out to full length, and shut his cruel little tourniquets around each root. 

The rings were too small for my fleshy nubs, but then I knew they would be. I had worn them before, and I remembered all too well how they pinched off the flow of blood, and tortured my breasts. Along with the memory of the hurt, however, I also recalled how exquisite and erotic that dull ache could be. I remembered how the pain ran from my nipples down into my cunt, where it started a fire between my legs, and fed it until pussy fluid overflowed to leak down my thighs. I knew those rings would do the same to me today, and I shuddered at the thought of wearing those awful rings to lunch with the Governor. 

There would be even more, and worse, yet to come. A vibrating egg was stuffed into my wet pussy. Even that wasn't enough for Jimmy. Taped on my shaved pubis was a tiny battery powered magneto that generated a spark at the electrode attached to my clitoris. The operation of each of these devices was remotely controlled. With a simple twist of a dial Jimmy could set the egg to vibrating at an intensity of his choice, and Janet had only to push a button to send an electric jolt into my sensitive clit. 

In the cab on the way to the luncheon appointment with the Governor, my Master and Mistress randomly tested their equipment driving me closer and closer to the orgasm I knew I was not allowed to have. How I did suffer! In pleading for mercy I remember crying out, "Please for the love of God, won't somebody please fuck me!" That poor taxi driver had no idea what was going on in his back seat. He must have thought his fare was some sort of female sex maniac.

It seemed hours, but the ride could not have been more than a few minutes before the car pulled up to the front door of The Jefferson Davis Hotel. The Jeff Davis offered the finest and most extravagant dining room in Mobile. As a girl I had dreamed of dining there with all the beautiful people who were the hotel's clientele. How often I had imagined myself in a designer dress chatting casually over a chocolate moose with some handsome man so enamored with my charms that he hung on my every word and smile. While in Junior College I even took a job there as a waitress, less for the generous tips, than to gawk at the important men in expensive suits and the beautiful wives and mistresses they brought to dine with them. 

The years passed. I matured into a pretty woman with blue eyes, honey blond hair, full breasts, and long shapely legs. Favored with good looks and good luck, I found and married the perfect man for me, the famous TV evangelist Reverend Alexander McWorter. He was a good deal older than I, but as you will find later in this story, he was exactly the kind of dominant male I needed. My marriage to a popular TV personality made me an instant 'somebody' welcome at the Jeff Davis hotel dining room. All that changed suddenly six months ago, however. My husband and protector, my master and lover, my mentor and guide, the man who directed me with an iron hand, was standing at his pulpit one Sunday morning when he suffered a massive heart attack, collapsed and died before a nationwide TV audience. 

Alexander might have died, but his TV ministry not only survived, it prospered as never before from the publicity stirred by the tragedy. Alexander's unfortunate death while 'preaching the word' made him a martyr in the eyes of his devoted audience of fundamentalist Christians. All through our marriage I had regularly appeared on TV with my husband, singing and leading the choir, chatting with him on the air, and giving public witness to the Lord when called upon. My reputation as Alexander's devoted wife, as his soul mate, as his right hand in performing God's work were credentials enough for the TV congregation loyal to their former pastor. Although I was no preacher, and didn't try to be, I was acceptable to our audience to replace my dead husband as the star of the McWorter TV "Gospel Hour". 

I made my new role work by turning my back on tradition in favor of something new in religious broadcasting. I took the part not of a Minister, but of a mistress of ceremonies to a religious variety show with a more relaxed approach to 'that old time religion' than anyone had ever seen before. We sang and we danced, to rock music as well as the traditional hymns. Humor, and laughter were encouraged, and celebrity secular guests were featured. In this new format, Alexander's former assistant pastor, Jimmy Carson, took over the hell fire preaching, and did it well. He was a handsome man with an impressive style and baritone voice. The TV ratings soared, the McWorter "Gospel Hour" became the darling of evangelist broadcasting, and I was soon being called the 'the Christian Oprah Winfry'. 

Not publicly discussed, however, were the thousands of dollars our listeners contributed to the McWorter treasury each week. Jimmy was a greedy man, and he saw his chance to become wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. He understood, however, that I was the indispensable link between the grieving flock and its departed but still beloved pastor and shepherd. Without me, there would be no money to steal. Thus, Jimmy made certain that he and I were represented to the world as divinely inspired partners working hand in hand to continue on with Christ's work on earth. 

As you might already suspect from the circumstances of my meeting with the Governor, however, the reality of my situation was something entirely different. Alexander's body was hardly cold before Jimmy Carson and his wife blackmailed me into becoming their pawn and powerless front for Jimmy's money machine. Worse, to keep me obedient and in line, they played upon my weakness for sexual submission to make me their slave, both in and out of the bedroom. 

I was held virtually a prisoner inside the church rectory where the three of us lived and worked. I was not allowed to even go shopping alone, and until my meeting with the Governor, I had not made a public appearance outside the scripted TV program since my husband's funeral. The Governor had specifically asked to meet with me as well as Jimmy today, however, and Jimmy had no choice but to risk bringing me along for lunch. 

The Governor was running for reelection. He needed campaign money, and even more he needed the support and endorsement of the McWorter Ministries, and the TV exposure that went with that endorsement. That he would seek to meet with the widow McWorter was a testament to my new status as a celebrity. This was a perfect opportunity for me to take my first step toward a place in the power structure of the state, even the nation, if only I was not the captive of the Carsons. However, their captive I was! As I sat there in the splendor of the Jeff Davis dining room, I knew there was no escape. Jimmy had so bullied me, and fed my need to submit, that I was paralyzed beyond any hope. Even here in the Jeff Davis Hotel with the Governor of the state at my side, Jimmy had me under his thumb. My breasts, my nipples, my cunt, they all belonged to him, and even from across the table he remained in control, never letting me forget he owned me. 

Oh my nipples! How they did hurt! Locked in the cruel grip of those tiny gold bands, my every move brought fresh pain to those swollen sensitive nubs as they rubbed braless against the rough raw silk of my blouse. Then there was my cunt! God, but how Jimmy and Janet could make me suffer between my legs with a simple flick of a switch. Could anyone have more control than a hellish vibrator inside a poor woman's cunt, unless of course it was an electric shock to her clit? Is it any wonder I could not focus on anything but the Governor's penis? The waiter brought the soup course, and as he leaned over to serve me, his crotch pressed against my cheek. His musky male smell was the same as the Governor's, and acted on me as an aphrodisiac. It was all I could do to keep from running my tongue between his legs to see if I could taste his balls and penis. Across the table Janet Carson knew what I was thinking. Janet grinned cruelly as her hand in her jacket pocket turned those hateful batteries on and off sending tiny shocks to my clit that ran all the way up into my already tortured nipples. 

Meanwhile, seated across the table beside his wife, Jimmy Carson was his usual smug oily self. He knew what his wife was doing to me and he was enjoying my distress. His control over me was working perfectly, and Jimmy was at his con man best. He discussed money and politics with the Governor as if the opinion of the widow McWorter didn't matter. Indeed, as he luncheon went on, the Governor sensed that Jimmy was the one making the decisions and began to ignore me. 

I tried to recover, to play a part, to make myself heard. From time to time I could pull myself together enough to speak, but Jimmy snatched every chance away. He would turn up the intensity of the vibrating egg in my cunt, leaving me to fight back the orgasm that would come bubbling up. I would forget what I had to say, and then lapse back into my fantasy about the Governor fucking me in the men's room.

Once in such a moment, however, as our meeting neared is end, my mind cleared despite my torment. "This!" I thought. "Surely this must be what hell is like." ---------------------------------------------------

2. FATHER, MOTHER, AND I.

I would be the one who would know. Hell and sex were two subjects with which I was all too familiar. Hell was a favorite topic of my father. I had heard about it from him endlessly, and in agonizing detail, for as far back as I could remember. Sex I did not become closely acquainted with until the day I was sent home from the seventh grade after I began to bleed from my first female period. 

I was distraught and crying as I told my mother what had happened. Mother was a good woman, tall and pretty with a good figure. She was also smart and capable, but she was a natural submissive, completely dominated by her husband. That day she did as was so often her way, she passed me off to father, and said he would explain when he came home from work.

My father was a stern man who modeled himself after his impression of the prophets of the Old Testament. He explained to me that I was simply becoming a woman in nature's way, and assured me it was nothing to be distressed about. He said, however, that in becoming a woman I would be subject to certain urges and desires that were dangerous. He cautioned me against falling victim to the evils of what he called 'female lust'. He went into great detail about the weakness of women to temptation using as illustrations the fallen and suspect women of the bible from Eve to Bathsheba to Jezebel to Delilah and Salome. 

According to father, God made woman to serve man. He also said, however, that our urge to serve men sometime confused us, and caused us to stray into the arms of strangers who would take immoral advantage of us. He said I must learn to remain committed, obedient, and faithful to only himself and my eventual husband. Such was God's will, he said, and I must not allow my weakness to lead me into the sinful female lust to which my gender was so prone. He told me that now I was becoming a woman, it was time for him to begin training me in discipline and restraint. My first lesson was to be that evening, and I was to report to him after I was in my nightgown and ready for bed.


Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 01-06



It was about 9:30 when I knocked on the door of my parent's bedroom. Father swung open the door. He was dressed only in the bottoms of his pajamas. I had never thought of father as being particularly masculine before, but for some reason tonight there was something very sexy about his broad, muscular, hairy chest. In his hand was the broad white canvas belt that he had brought home from his days in the Navy. 

Across the room standing beside the bed was my mother, as naked as the day she was born, with her arms extended straight up over her head. Her full breasts were lifted and accentuated. She was quite beautiful, but vulnerable, and she looked afraid and unhappy.

"Come in young lady, and take off your gown," my father invited. "Then stand over there beside your mother with your hands over your head just as she is doing. Do you know what is going to happen here?" he asked me.

"No father," I answered. For sure, I had no idea what to make of this strange scene. I knew only that I was terribly embarrassed to be naked in front of a man even if he was my father. I did as I was told, however, and stood by mother nude with my arms raised.

"Mary Beth," father began. "I am going to whip your mother, and then you, with this belt. This is your first lesson in resisting the lusts of your female body. Only by constant vigilance and the regular use of this belt can I be sure that you and your mother will remain chaste, and faithful despite your inherent female weakness for the pleasures of the flesh."

Speaking then to my mother, he asked for conformation. "I have whipped you regularly throughout our marriage haven't I woman?"

"Yes my dear, you have," my mother replied, rather sadly I thought.

"And as a result you have been able to overcome you hunger for the penises of strange men, and devoted yourself only to mine, have you not woman?"

"Yes Arthur! With your help, I have."

"Do you need to be reminded again tonight to control your feminine lust?

"Oh yes my husband, my guide! I am a slut, and you must keep me on the right path. I have such dirty thoughts about large erections, and what they would do to me if only they were in my mouth, or in my pussy, or in my ass. I must be punished for my lust. You must teach me with your belt how to control myself. Please, whip your wife whose thoughts have so sinned against you!" 

Father did not hesitate. With the regular beat of a metronome he began to beat his wife, first on her shoulders, then on her buttocks, and finally across the back of her thighs. She must have been in great pain, but she bit her lips and only whimpered as the blows struck home. Only once was there a pause, and that was for barely the moment it took to spin his victim around that he might whip her down the front of her body. Cruel blows fell upon her thighs and belly, below and above the dark patch of her pubic hair. Eventually her breasts became his target where he repeatedly struck her across her nipples. The abused and beaten woman was sobbing quietly when it was finally over. 

This was when father opened his fly to expose a long cock in full erection, and asked my mother, "Whore, is this what you wanted?" 

"Oh yes my dear sweet husband! You are so good to your whore wife. Please let me suck you. I have been whipped and I no longer lust for strange males and their cocks. I want only yours. Please, I want to taste you and swallow your sperm."

Her begging was real, almost panic stricken in its sincerity. Despite her pain, or perhaps because of it, she was clearly in heat, desperate for the erection that jutted from the fly of her tormentor's pajamas. In her frenzy she fell to her knees and took that blood filled hard-on into her mouth, swallowing its entire length down her throat in a single bob of her head. 

Her full lovely breasts jerked and swayed as she sucked on him like a woman possessed, only to be denied her reward at the end. At the critical moment, he pulled away and began to hand jack himself off into her face. She opened her mouth, desperately trying to catch the spurts of male semen that came flying at her in long strings. Most escaped her tongue, however, and splattered onto her face from forehead to chin. 

"It is now your turn, Mary Beth," father said turning to me. I was standing silent and dumbfounded at what I had just witnessed. "You are still very young. Dirty thoughts of sex with men will not yet have taken hold, and you are still pure in your body and mind. I will take that into consideration tonight, but as you grow older I must see that you stay that way. Keep your hands up high. Be brave, and try not to cry out. Ignore the pain and concentrate on refusing the temptations of your body."

With those instructions, my first beating began. True to his word, on that first night it was not severe. Unlike the way he had whipped my mother, he struck me only across the shoulders, and the ordeal was quickly over. Nor did he offer me his cock after he had finished as he did to mother. Instead he sent me directly to my room and to bed.

This experience of being whipped was to be repeated as long as I lived at home with my parents. Three and four times a week father would call mother and I into his bedroom where we were required to strip naked and offer ourselves to his punishment, always with that white canvas belt. 

Mother's whippings, and the sex that followed, varied some from time to time in the details. Occasionally, father would make her kneel before him with her head and shoulders pressed against the floor. With her buttocks up and exposed, he would concentrate a vicious flogging on her pale cheeks until they were a flaming red. When he was finished with the belt, he would straddle her from behind and take her like an animal bitch, sometimes in her pussy, but as often as not in her ass.

More commonly, however, mother was whipped while either on her feet or on her knees. On those nights he would give her his erection to suck. Sometimes he would finish in her mouth and she would swallow his ejaculation. Other times he would enjoy her mouth and tongue for a while, then take his hard-on away from her, and fuck her either on the floor or on the bed. 

He liked to sit between her spread legs with her hips raised by a couple of pillows, and tease her with his cock. With the crown of his penis barely inserted between her cunt lips, and a finger tip rubbing her clit, he would demand that she beg him to fuck her. Mother was so pitiful. She would whimper and plead with him to take her until tears were running down her cheeks. Whenever he finally did give her more cock, it was usually only an inch or so at a time in order to prolong mother's erotic suffering. 

Father's favorite sex though, and I think probably hers as well, was for her to straddle him and mount his upright pole while he was flat on his back. In that position she was in control and could ride him as hard as she wanted, bouncing up and down enjoying an orgasm every couple of minutes or so until he finally filled her with his sperm. Of course, after every intercourse, whether in her pussy or in her ass, mother was required to dutifully clean his balls and penis with her tongue and mouth. 

For years, however, father's routine with me never changed. As I became older my whippings were more severe, but always while standing, and I was struck only on my back and shoulders. I was neither asked nor allowed to participate in sex with father in any way until I was almost grown, although earlier than that, as he whipped me father would insist that I admit to lusting after my male classmates. 

There was much to confess. By that time, I was quite the little prick tease. I loved the attention of a good looking boy. Just talking to one made my nipples grow hard and my pussy moist, and I had discovered how good it felt to have a hard penis pressed against me. I had become an accomplished 'French kisser', and my boy friends and I were regularly fogging up car windows in lover's lane. I loved having their hands on my body, feeling me, exploring me, teasing me. I think I probably would have fucked one or more of them if only they had pushed me a little harder. 

Father purported to be aghast at my 'female lust', and the severity of my whipping increased accordingly. Despite his scolding, however, I soon began to suspect father was not nearly as upset as he pretended. Indeed I became convinced that he was pleasuring himself on the sexy details of my confession. He was not alone. Indeed, even as he whipped me, I was erotically reliving those delicious passionate moments out in the woods behind the water plant. 

I decided to hold nothing back. Why be bashful about something that apparently gave us both so much pleasure. I even told him about the times my favorite boyfriend ran his finger into my pussy and jerked me off. I began to understand that there was more to what father demanded of me than a mere admission of how good it felt to have my tits and nipples played with. I could see for the first time what father called 'female lust' was nothing but religious crap, and that whipping mother and I was nothing more than a way to get his rocks off. 

Father must have understood that I had seen through his little game, and was growing up into a slut. I'm sure he also knew there wasn't anything he could do about it. What has always bothered me, however, is that I don't think he even cared as long as he could satisfy his own urges with his white belt, and the naked bodies of his wife and daughter. . Once I had turned 18 and was in junior college, father finally began to make sexual overtures toward me even though he still would not fuck me or let me suck his cock. By that time he would have me hold his member in my hand. Since he would not allow me to do anything more, I'm not quite sure why he would do this. Whatever his reasons, however, I am sure he enjoyed it. I certainly did! 

His great big prick would be so hard, its skin so silky smooth, and I could feel the pulse of his heartbeat under my fingers. We would stand there with not a word passing between us, my father in his pajama bottoms, while I, his naked and just whipped daughter, held his penis in my hand. We would stare into each other's eyes, each of us struggling with our own demons, until the air between us scorched from the heat of our passions. Always the same question ran through my mind, always the same hope. Was he going to fuck my virgin pussy and mouth? Tonight? Ever? 

Did my obvious eagerness ever come close to overwhelming him? I think so. There were certainly those times when even his stern Old Testament resolve would melt under the warmth of my hand on his male member, and he would order me to jack him with my hand. I was sometimes allowed to continue until his eyes turned to glass and he was gasping for breath, but never to a finish. 

"I am only testing you," he would tell me as he pulled his cock away. "Save yourself Mary Beth. Your lust must be only for your husband,"

That was a lie! He knew it was, and I knew so too. Worse, he knew I knew, and I hated him for continuing with his pointless half way charade. Night after night, I watched him take his pleasure from mother, and my own pussy would swell and grow wet. I desperately wanted father to lay me down beside mother, and fuck me the same way. I needed it. I dreamed about it. I ached for it. Had I not been so afraid of father and his belt, I would have begged him for it. To my bitter disappointment, however, it never happened. 

In time I learned to relieve the passions that seized me as I watched my father fuck my mother. When I returned to my own room after a whipping, I would snuggle under the covers and masturbate. As my finger stroked my pussy and rubbed my clit, I remembered every detail of what had happened earlier. I could hear my mother, begging father to fuck her. I could see her too...a lovely woman on her back with splayed knees pulled back against mature breasts that lay flat and spread across her chest. Her nipples are hard and erect, her pussy is stretched into a round O, snug and tight around father's cock. From such inspiration, I would reach the most delightful orgasms.

When I was about 16, father invited my brother into the bedroom to watch his sister and mother whipped. Eddie was only 14. Father never explained why Eddie was there, but I'm sure he thought of it as part of a boy's education. Mother and I were mortified to be naked and whipped in front of this child, but that was a bearable humiliation compared to the night about two years later when father handed Eddie the canvas belt and told him to use it. To be stripped and beaten by her own son had to be particularly shameful for my Mother. How can a woman, even one as horny and submissive as she, cope with being demeaned like that? 

It was a question that would remain unanswered until several years later when I was home for the Christmas vacation my senior year in college. Late to arise one morning, by the time I was out of bed father had already left for work. With him gone, I was puzzled by the moans coming from the kitchen. I had heard those sounds often before, and I knew instantly what they were. 

Quietly I opened the kitchen door just a little crack I could look through. Sure enough there was my mother and her son having sex. Both were naked. Mother was stooped over the kitchen table, her arms spread-eagled across it. Her legs were split so wide that her toes could barely touch the floor. Eddie stood behind his mother, fucking her wet and swollen cunt with a huge cock that glistened in the morning sun as it slid in and out. "Yes Yes, fuck my pussy! Hard! Take me hard! Use me! Fuck me." Mother was beside herself, beyond shame, beyond caring, willing to beg her own son for his cock. "Oh-my-God, you are hitting bottom! More! More! Give me more! Please for the love of God give me more! I need it. Give it to me! Fuck me! Please! Please, I'm begging for it! Give me MORE COCK! Don't stop! Don't ever stop! Ever!" 

I stood there for a long time watching him fuck her. He did it very well. Mother's pleasure overwhelmed her, and her orgasms came one after the other in a steady stream. Just as he flooded her pussy with his sperm, Eddie bent forward, and pressed his chest against her back in order to lick her tenderly between her shoulders. Mother cried out "Oh Eddie, how wonderful" even as she convulsed in one final super climax. 

It was all so romantic. My own pussy flowed as freely as if I had been the one who had just been fucked. Emotionally I had been a part of their union, completely intimate with them in their pleasure. I decided it would be unforgivable for me to sneak away like some peeping Tom catching a cheap thrill. No, they had to know I had watched them make love, and that I had shared their tender moment with them. It was, however, a shock to them both when I threw the door open and spoke up.

My mother was flustered and blushing, and I could see that Eddie was so embarrassed that he was unable to speak. Mother, however, gathered herself and attempted to explain. 

"Oh my dear you must forgive me," she began. "Your father is no longer enough, and Eddie has such a wonderfully big penis. He has touched places inside me where your father as never been. I know that this is a sin forbidden by God, and that I am a whore who has given in to my female lust. I don't care! He feels so good inside me that I will not even allow him to use a condom. If it be God's will, I will bear his child and do so without regret. There is nothing, and no one, who can stop me from using your brother's dick for my pleasure." 

I told her I understood, and promised that their secret was safe with me. I did add a condition, however. I insisted that mother share Eddie' talented cock with me. As you will learn later in this story, by this time I was no longer a virgin. To the contrary, by then I was an experienced slut, something I was eager to demonstrate to my mother and brother as I stripped off my nightgown. 

Kneeling before my brother, I took his soft dick into my mouth still covered with the slime of his intercourse with mother. Stimulated by my lips and tongue, he quickly recovered his erection. It was indeed an impressive male organ, as long and fat as any I have ever enjoyed. I gripped it in my hand and led him by it into living room where I laid down on the couch, then spread my legs wide for him. I was surprised by how much my little brother had learned from somewhere about sex and a woman's anatomy. Without any guidance from me, he dropped his head between my thighs and ate my pussy with a delicious skill. God, but his tongue was delightful! 

I had already cum twice before he crawled forward, and settled his hips into my crotch. In a single shove he buried his great member inside me all the way to my womb. I have never been better fucked before or since, and for the rest of my vacation, Eddie and I had sex together at least once each day, sometimes with our mother in bed with us, sometimes alone. Over the years since then Eddie has continued to fuck me as often as opportunity allows, as he also has his mother. I think it very likely that he is the father of the baby that came along unexpectedly to mother two years later.

Father died a year ago. He never knew how badly his belt, and all his effort training of his wife, daughter and son, had failed him, ----------------------------------------------------

3. MY ROOMMATE MAEBELLE.

When I finished Junior college, father shipped me off to a small girls school run by the Pentecostal Church in the back woods of South Carolina. There were few young men nearby, and he was sure that I would be safe there from the temptations of female lust. I'm sure he never gave a thought to the possibility that in such isolation his daughter might become the prey of some lesbian. Certainly he had heard of women making love to each other, but the idea was so far fetched to him that he never seriously believed that such things actually happened. To my father, a lesbian was a myth like a leprechaun or Santa Clause. 

I was assigned to share a dorm room with Maebelle Combs. Maebelle was a big strong girl with short bleached blonde hair. She was pretty enough with a good figure, but she was a little hard looking. She was not at all the type to be in a Pentecostal school. I assumed she was there only because she had the same kind of religious father as I did. 

Our room was small. Maebelle and I slept in beds not more that six feet apart. All the rooms on our dorm floor shared one communal bathroom, and there were no doors on the toilet stalls. There was simply no place a girl could go to jerk off, and after two weeks, I was desperate for some private time with my finger. 

One evening late I awoke from a sexy dream half crazy with the need to get myself off. Quietly I began to masturbate under my blankets, but I must have moaned as I neared my orgasm. Suddenly the room was flooded with light as MaeBelle threw back my bed covers exposing my forefinger buried inside my pussy. 

"Well would you look at that," Maebelle exclaimed. "You had me fooled for certain. I thought for sure that you were one of those little praying goodie two shoes. It goes to show how wrong a gal can be. A horny little slut is what you are. Well, honey, if it is a good time you want, your roomy will certainly show you one." 

With that she grabbed my left arm and yanked it into a hammerlock behind my back. My wrist she caught in a slipknot at one end of the belt from her robe. The other end she looped around my neck, and pulled my arm up taut to between my shoulder blades, before tying it off there. Maebelle was so much bigger and stronger than I, and with my arm painfully bent behind my back, I had no chance to resist her. 

She made me sit on the edge of the bed, forced my legs apart, and from a squat between my thighs, she began to tease and torment me. She pinched both my nipples, hard. I cried out protesting my pain. She told me to shut up, and with one hand took a painful grip between my legs. This time I knew better than to complain. She ran her forefinger up inside me, exploring my pussy, and quickly found the hymen hidden there.




Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 01-06



"What is this?" Maebelle asked with amazement. "You couldn't be a virgin, not a hot little slut like you." 

"But I am," I protested. "I have never been fucked, I swear, never." 

"Damn, I don't believe it," MaeBelle said shaking her head. I never knew a virgin before. I didn't think they existed anymore after the age of seven. My Alcee is going to love this. A chance to fuck a virgin comes only once in a lifetime even for a cunt hound like Alcee." 

All the while she was talking MaeBelle continued to frig my cunt with her finger. Poor me! I had been on the cusp of an orgasm when my secret masturbation was interrupted, and Maebelle's finger brought me back to a full boil. My clit was erect, and I was whimpering. Was she simply enjoying me, or did she have something more sinister in mind? Whatever her motives, her head dipped between my legs and her tongue ran across the head of my exposed clitoris. 

I began to come apart at the seams. I begged shamelessly. "Oh yes! More! More! I must have more!" 

My pussy had never been licked before, and I had no idea that anything could feel so good, but Maebelle had only just begun toying with me. First she licked me up and down the length of my slit, then she fucked me in miniature, rapidly jabbing her tongue between my pussy lips. Next she caught my clit between her lips pinching and tugging on it, drawing it even further out from its protective folds, before raking her front teeth across its supersensitive crown. The sensations that flowed thru my pussy were more than I could stand. I went off like the finale at a 4th of July fireworks show. 

"Enjoy that one my little slut," Maebelle said with a cruel smile. It is the last cum you will have without my permission as long as you are here. You can count on that."

Maybelle was still kneeling between my spread legs when she began again, this time running her hands up my calves to behind the knees, and then on to the inside of my thighs. Her hands and fingers slid across the smooth skin of my legs, sensually teasing every nerve ending. God, how delightful, and as quickly as that I was once more on fire. This time, however, Maebelle stopped short of my pussy. My pulse pounded, and I was struggling to breathe. I groaned, I whimpered, I pleaded for more. I had to have those fingers, that magic tongue, inside me again, and I was not bashful about saying so. 

Maebelle, however, had other ideas, and before going further she raised her head and warned me, her ice blue eyes peering deeply into my own, "Don't you dare cum without my permission you little whore. Never! If you do, I will hang you up by your thumbs and take the skin off your tits and cunt with a bullwhip. Do you understand?"

I answered, "Yes Ma'am." What else could I say? I believed her. I had no doubt but that this was a hard dangerous woman who would whip me for the sheer joy of watching me suffer.

Her point made, my tormentor skipped over my burning pussy to sensually stroke my belly with her fingertips, and after toying briefly with my navel, she moved on to my breasts. She was not gentle with them. She squeezed them hard in her hands, mauling them, making them hurt, testing their soft elasticity. 

My nipples were next to suffer. She pinched them one at a time between her thumb and forefinger, then stretched each teat out as far as it would go and held it there until it ached. I cried out in pain, and as if in apology for the hurt her fingers had caused, her mouth now closed around first one tortured bud and then the other. She sucked softly, almost lovingly, at first with her lips before nipping gently with her teeth. With each nip, an electric jolt ran all the way from my nipple into my cunt.

At last she was finished with my tits, and Maebelle's hands slowly retreated back the way they had come, but this time, finally, to my cunt so ready for her attention. A thumb plunged into that swollen slit, even as the fingers of its hand were reaching back, searching for my virgin anus. The hand closed just as its index finger found that little puckered ass hole, and penetrated to the first knuckle. My very core was now caught in the vice between Maebelle's thumb and finger. Never before had I been so helpless. It was to be my fateful first step toward becoming the slave of my roommate. 

Maebelle's head again dropped between I legs, this time to lick the sensitive inner sides of those young thighs. I knew what must come next, and I was eager for Maebelle's mouth to at last return to my core. Finally, just as I was the most desperate, her wonderfully talented tongue raked my clit, I cried out, and jerked with involuntary reflex. I could not help myself. Her tongue circled the sensitive nub of my clit, around and around it went, under, over, and across the head. Incredibly that little button swelled until it stood up like a small penis.

My second orgasm was on its way when Maebelle froze it in my belly. "Don't you dare cum, you bitch, not if you know what is good for you." Afraid, I held back with all my might. Even so, my hips churned in simulated intercourse, trying to hump the hand that gripped me from my pussy to my ass hole. 

Maebelle was stern and unforgiving. She grabbed the wrist that is still tied behind by back in that painful arm lock, and used it to yank me off the bed on to my knees. She took my place seated on the edge of the bed, and spread her legs. Still twisting my arm she jerked me between her knees and toward her crotch.

"Its my turn now little bitch! If you want to cum again you will get me off first. You do want me to let you cum, don't you slut?" she asked, increasing the upward pressure on my poor arm. "Answer me you horny little whore. Do you need to cum, need it worse than you ever have in your life?" 

"Yes Ma'am," I admitted. It was true. I would surely die without a release.

"Yes what, slut?" 

"Yes, I want to cum." 

"Beg me." 

Please! For the love of God let me cum! I do need it so." 

"The payback is hell for a horny bitch. Have you ever eaten a pussy before?

"No ma'am!" I admitted.

"Well you are going to eat one now. The first rule around here is that I always cum first, once, twice, ten times, as many as I want. Then I may or may not let you get your rocks off. It depends on how good you have been and how I feel. BUT ITS ALWAYS UP TO ME, you understand?" 

She grins at me evilly and pulls her nightgown off over her head. Under her gown she wore the traditional pink panties. "Well bitch! Don't just sit there," she ordered leaning back on her arms and raising her hips off the bed. "Get my panties off. Oh darn! I guess that will be hard to do with one hand tied behind you like that. Well, you have teeth to use don't you."

There was nothing else I could do but to stoop forward and grip the bottom of one leg opening with my teeth while tugging at the elastic top with my free hand. As I struggled my nose was practically in her sex, and the odor of female excitement was very strong. Bit by bit I worked the panties down to her knees, and from there it was fairly easy to slide them down her legs and off her feet. 

I knew what I must do next. I couldn't resist looking up for a peek at the vagina I would soon be forced to service with my mouth and tongue. Her pubis was completely shaved of pubic hair, and her bare slit was shining with female wet. Her hands gripped me by the hair and pulled my mouth into her crotch, and held me there so tightly I could hardly breathe. 

I had never made love to either male or female genitalia with my mouth before. To be forced to suck a woman's pussy was humiliating, and more than a little disgusting. Still, did I have any choice? Maebelle was so much bigger and stronger than me. 

Yet, was that the only reason my face was between her legs? Was I truly afraid, or was it the abuse that was turning me into a slut in heat? I hated what was happening to me, but I wanted it too. To be forced to eat that shaved pussy was somehow every bit as exciting as it was shameful. Was it possible it was that very shame that made it exciting? Maebelle's female odor had that same ambiguous effect on me. Strong and pungent, it turned my stomach, but at the same time it was somehow an aphrodisiac, sexy and tempting. 

Then there was my own orgasm, the one that had been denied me, but was still struggling to escape. God, how I needed to have that cum, and I knew that to have it, I must earn her permission. What ever she wanted of me then, I must do. I would do anything for that release. 

In the balance, I gave in to the eroticism of the moment. I stuck out my tongue and licked her wet slit up and down before I pried open her labia, and fucked her hole with small stabbing jabs. She was squirming and thrusting into my mouth even before I reached her clit. 

I must have been doing it right. Her hips humped my mouth as she pressed my face to her cunt. I had barely begun with her clit before Maebelle began to scream out her passion. 

"Oh-my-god! Oh-my-god! Oh-my-god! I'm there, I'm going to cum. Oh-my-god! Don't your dare stop you wonderful little slut! I'm going to cum." 

Minutes later she announced her victory, "I'm cumming, you bitch, you cunt lapping whore. God Damn! I'M CUMMIINNGG!" 

I didn't pull away. I wanted Maebelle to be satisfied, totally satisfied. I knew that only when she was fully sated would she permit me the orgasm I so desperately needed. I had every reason to believe I had been able to do just that for her. 

She pushed me back on to my haunches. "You, bitch," she began, "are one natural cunt-sucker. You may have never eaten a woman before, but trust me, from now on you will have this pussy in your mouth more times than you are going to be able to count." 

I was on my knees at her feet with my face soaked in female pussy juice, totally humiliated as Maebelle explained the terms of my surrender. "You understand don't you my horny little cunt that from now on I own you. I will decide when you can cum and when you can't. I will decide whom you fuck and whom you suck, when and where. I will decide what you will wear, who your friends will be, and how and where you will spend each day."

My new mistress continued to list my duties as her slave. "You will wash my clothes. You will bathe me, massage me, and brush my hair. You will shave my legs, and my pussy. You will service me with your tongue. Above all else, you will always obey me, instantly and without protest or complaint. No matter how humiliating and degrading, you will do just as I say. I will be the sole judge and jury of your performance. I will punish you however and whenever I see fit. That you have not done anything wrong, will be no excuse. I may punish you simply to enjoy watching you suffer." 

"Like this!" Maebelle viscously slapped my face. "You deserved that, didn't you bitch?" she asked. 

"No... er... yes... I think so ma'am." Truthfully I didn't know what to say.

She slapped me again, even harder than before. "The right answer was yes! Always agree with me. It will be less painful."

She had hurt me, and I was glad when she changed the subject, even to one as humiliating as wearing a collar. "You will wear a dog collar inscribed with my name. You will wear it always, awake and asleep. You will wear it everywhere you go, to class, to church, on the street, everywhere." 

"And, oh yes! I almost forgot. It may surprise you but I have a boyfriend. His name is Alcee. You and your virgin hole will be my gift to him. After he takes your cherry, he will fuck you often since you are as much his slave as you are mine. I will lend you to my other friends as well, both male and female. You will pleasure them just as you do Alcee and me. Do you understand you slutty piece of female trash?" 

I did understand and I was terrified, but I was so horny I could scarcely stand it. Anyway, what choice did I really have? I had to live with this woman for the next two years, and I was afraid to think what might happen to me if I did not obey her. Confused and uncertain I said nothing in reply, hoping all this would pass, and I could avoid any commitment. 

Maebelle continued to press the issue, however, and asked, "Well, do you want that orgasm or not. If you do not agree, and quickly, I promise you will never have another orgasm as long as you live in this room with me. Decide bitch!"

"Yes, Please," I stammered. 

"'Yes, Please', what, Slut?

"Oh. God, I do so need to cum. I will do whatever you say, I promise."

"You, slut, I didn't hear a 'yes' in that sentence. Yes or No, do you agree that I own you and your worthless little pussy?" 

"Yes ma'am, you own me, and my worthless pussy," I answered. 

"Do you know what it means to be owned?" Maebelle demanded. "You will bathe me, suck my cunt, and fuck my boyfriend. You will obey me no matter what I demand of you. Is that understood?" 

"Yes, I promise." I answered simply. 

"Yes, I promise, MISS MAEBELLE!" she corrected me. "As your owner, from now on you will always address me as MISS MaeBelle. Stand up slut! Spread your legs. Lace your fingers behind your head! Stick out your boobs! Show me that you are my slave." 

I stood there posing for her in abject humiliation. She reached out and began to play with my breasts and nipples. I hated it! I hated her! I hated myself! But it felt so good! Pussy juice ran down my leg. Sadistically she asked, "Beg! Beg me for it. Make me believe you really want to cum." 

"Oh Miss MaeBelle," I whimpered in response, "Please let me cum. I beg! I am begging you. I will do anything, anything at all, if only you will let me cum."

"Anything?" she asked.

"Anything! Anything at all Miss Maebelle!" I confirmed.

"Very well my horny little cunt. Spread wider! Put your finger in your pussy, and frig yourself while I watch. Have your orgasm bitch, and be sure to enjoy it. You never know how long it will be before I let you have another. 

As shameful and distracting as it was to masturbate in front of another woman, the degrading act was mercifully brief. I had been teetering on the edge for such a long time. With hardly a dozen strokes of my finger, an intense pleasure began between my legs and rocked me like an earthquake. My legs buckled and unable to stand I fell to my knees, bent over, and gasping for breath. 

I knew I had taken a step over an uncertain line. My life was fundamentally changed, and it wasn't pretty. I was a slave, a whore without pride or self respect, an empty husk broken by my cruel roommate. My pleasure had been so overwhelming, however, that I did not care. Where might this lead me in the future? I didn't care about that either. Whatever I must do to repeat such intense sexual satisfaction, I would do, and do gladly. -----------------------------------------------------------

4. ALCEE TAKES MY CHERRY.

The next morning was a Saturday. There were no classes. My duties as a slave began early, however. I drew my Mistress a hot bath, and then kneeling beside the tub I carefully washed her. I found it surprisingly enjoyable to soap her long legs, her belly, her neck and shoulders, and especially her pussy and breasts. I took advantage where I could, even tweaking her nipples, and running a finger up inside her. She protested of course, calling me a naughty girl and threatening to punish me, but I knew she was enjoying my liberties as much as I was. As I knelt at her feet drying her off, she said I should kiss her pussy to acknowledge that I was now her property and slave. I gladly did so, and her slit was so fresh and sweet.

Maebelle rummaged through an old footlocker and came up with a large black dog collar that she buckled around my neck. She had not forgotten the promise she made last night. "We will soon have your name plate engraved and attached. I think I will have it say, 'Hi, I'm Mary Beth, Maebelle's Bitch.' Should I include my phone number too in case you get lost and can't find your way home?"

She dressed me braless in a T-shirt and short shorts without any panties. She attached a leash to my collar and led me out to her car like a disobedient pet who might otherwise run away. At first I resented being leashed. I had given her no reason to think I would refuse to do anything she demanded of me, or that I might otherwise to escape from my servitude. Then I understood. She did it to shame and humble me. I was being taught my new place in life... a slave woman on the end of a leash. 

She drove us across the railroad tracks and into the Negro section of town. I was a southern girl raised to be afraid of black people. The deeper into the ghetto she took me the more uncomfortable I became. Finally we parked in the driveway of a tumbledown duplex sadly in need of paint. Maebelle yanked me out of the car by my leash and led me in a front door without knocking. Seated on the couch watching television was a tall muscular black man dressed only in his jockey shorts. Maebelle dropped my leash and crossed the room to crawl into his lap. He took her into his arms and passionately kissed her on the lips. 

With that kiss I began to put two and two together. This must be her boyfriend Alcee she told me about last night, the man to whom I was her gift, the man who would fuck me. I was going to lose my virginity to a nigger!!! The thought struck me like a thunderbolt. I wanted to turn and run, but I was frozen to the spot. Anyway, where could a white woman go to hide in this part of town? 

"Well, Maebelle, aren't you going to introduce me?" the man asked nodding in my direction. 

"Certainly," MaeBelle said, "Let me present Mary Beth, my new cunt slave. She is as horny a young slut as you have ever met, but would you believe it, she is also certifiably still cherry. I brought her to you this morning as a gift, a virgin trophy you can hang on the end of your cock." 

"Get out of here! Surely you're kidding me! There is no such thing as a 20 year-old cherry." 

"Well she is," MaeBelle replied. "I have felt her hymen myself. What is your pleasure Oh Great Penis? Will you have her now or later?" 

"Later I think," Alcee answered grinning from ear to ear.

Oddly my mind wandered as I took stock of the man who would be my first lover. He was quite handsome. "Blacks have such white teeth, "I thought, "or does it only seem that way because their faces are so dark?" 

Alcee was sizing me up as well, and he wanted to see more. "First I want to look," he requested, "then I want her to perform for me down and dirty; and, when it comes time to make her bleed, I want you, Maebelle, naked and in bed with us."

"All right slave whore! Show him!" STRIP!" Maebelle ordered me. "Show Alcee your pussy and how you play with it with your finger when I allow it. Make yourself cum for him! Then you can suck him. He likes that a lot. In fact, a white woman's mouth around his black cock is one of his favorite things."

"That's right you honky bitch," Alcee interrupted. "Let's see what you have for me. Are you really the little slut Maebelle says? Bury a finger in that pussy! Put on a show for me! Jerk off! Make me hard and ready for your mouth." 

That sounded good to me. An orgasm right then was just what I needed.

I did not hesitate. I pulled the T-shirt up over my head allowing my tits to bounce free. I pulled my shorts down from my hips and slid them off my legs. Naked and vulnerable I stood posing before this black man who was going to fuck me. Would it be rape? Not hardly. As terrifying as all this was, it was also deeply erotic, and the more I thought about my fate, the wetter my pussy became. I stood before my African lover with my legs apart, fucking my hole with one hand, and playing with a tit with the other. I jerked my head violently throwing my long curls from side to side in an ecstasy that was only partially simulated.

Despite my passion, I did not forget what I was and whom I belonged to. "Please, please Miss Maebelle," I begged. "Please may your slave cum? Let me show him how I cum." 




Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 01-06



The answer came quickly. "Permission Granted! Cum for Alcee. Show him what a hot little tramp you are."

Thank God! I could not have held back much longer. My orgasm swept over me. I shuddered, and dropped my head to my chest in submission. My legs grew weak. It was humiliating to orgasm on my own finger before this black stranger, but oh it was so delicious. It was so wonderful. 

Alcee sat in his chair with his legs spread, mesmerized by my enthusiastic masturbation. At first, his only movement was a rising hard-on that lifted the cotton front panel of his jockey shorts. Moments later, the pressure became too great and his penis poked through the fly. It was every bit as long and fat as I had hoped. His eyes narrowed to slits and he began to slowly jack his uncircumcised foreskin over the head of that great ebony prick. He wanted to fuck me, but what did I want? He was black and I was white. Black men do not fuck white women in Alabama, but then white women do not jerk themselves off before black men either. 

"Oh God," I thought, "How shameful! What would my parents and friends say if they knew the first penis in my pussy and mouth was black? And might he take me in my ass too?" It was all too humiliating to think about. 

In High School and Junior College, my friends and I often gossiped about what big cocks black men were rumored to have. We even made a game of it, surreptitiously checking the bulges between the legs of our African-American classmates looking for those exceptionally well endowed. We would giggle at our private little joke whenever we found a Negro boy worthy of our highest award, 'Hung Like a Donkey.' 

Of course none of us would ever admit to any first hand experience on the subject of the Negro cock. We told ourselves that our interest in the penis size of black men was only kidding around. We all agreed, to fuck a black cock was simply too shameful, too condemned, and too unacceptable, to be considered by even the cheapest white whore. Still, there was an undercurrent of titillation and temptation to our giggling. If the truth were known, I think we all wondered what it might be like to one day be fucked by a big black stud with corn rows on his head, tattoos on his arms, a gold ring in one ear...and if we were lucky, 'Hung Like a Donkey.' 

A forbidden fruit is always irresistible. Wasn't it so even to Eve when the serpent offered her that fateful apple? What a dumb bitch Eve must have been. An apple for Christ's sake! Anybody could refuse an apple, but to refuse a long fat penis, now that was something else again. I did so want one of those. Did its color really make any difference? Of course not! White meat, dark meat, to be well fucked, that was the thing, and the tube of male sperm injector Alcee was jacking in his hand was certainly impressive. He would have been a prize winner in our little girl's game of 'Hung Like a Donkey'. 

My reluctance began to fade. Only the worst prick tease strips naked and masturbates in front of a man, and then is reluctant to let him fuck her. The memory of how I had orgasmed on my own finger threw my pussy back into a crisis. All my apprehension about losing my virginity on this man's ebony rod disappeared. I could hardly wait as I thought to myself, "For Gods sake, let's get on with this! Damn you nigger, split me open and make me a woman at last!" Alcee spoke, commanding me. "Come here slut! On your knees! Crawl! Polish my knob with your mouth. Make it shiny and sensitive, rock hard and ready to pop your cherry."

I said nothing in reply, but that was certainly my thought as well. I wanted to touch him, lick him, suck him. I wanted him to need me as badly as I did him. As sexy as submissive as I knew how, I dropped onto my knees, and crawled to kneel at his feet. He lifted his hips and I slid his jockey shorts down and away. He spread his knees and I moved between them. "Oh you honky whore," I heard him say in a whisper, almost under his breath, "Suck me!" 

I was more than willing to do that, but first I wanted to give him a special treat. I had never sucked a cock before but my mother had certainly demonstrated on my father often enough how it should be done. I lifted that great black tube by its foreskin and licked its underside from bottom to end. Then I ran my tongue over his balls and took one tenderly into my mouth. I heard him groan and I knew I was doing well. 

Between those groans, he gave me my instructions "Now, whitey... eat me... suck my meat... make me hard...hard enough to slice your virgin cunt open."

Suck him I did. His prick was already stiff and tall, pointing straight out at me. I slid my hands under his thighs and used them to pull my mouth down over him. He felt so hard and smooth between my lips, an iron bar covered in silk. I would have loved to suck him off and have him cum down my throat. But he would not allow it! His hands tangled in my hair. Using the leverage of that cruel hold, he yanked my head back and my mouth off the delicious prick I was so enjoying. Eager for the virgin pussy that awaited him, he was unwilling to waste his seed on a mere blow job even if my mouth was every bit as virgin as my cunt. 

"Come with me slut, he ordered me. I want you in my bed. I want your legs spread wide. I want to hear you beg for my cock. Otherwise you don't get any. Do you understand?"

I nodded. I understood perfectly. He meant to humble and humiliate me. He meant to make me pay for a lifetime of insults from white women. I would have to crawl at his feet and lick his toes before he would take his pleasure in my white cunt. 

"And you, my other whore," He was talking to Maebelle now, "STRIP! I need you to help me fuck this little slave of yours." 

The three of us piled into Alcee's bed, a single tangle of male and female flesh. Alcee took control. "Lick her sweet virgin pussy Maebelle. Make her hot. Make her horny. Make her beg me to take her cherry." 

Maebelle was willing. She pulled my legs apart, and buried her face between them. Her tongue licked me from thigh to thigh, before using it to jab at my pussy like a small dick. While his girlfriend worked at my female core, Alcee laid his cheek on my breasts and licked at my nipples. He took first one of those sensitive nubs and then the other between his lips, and suckled me like a true lover. 

Hot and horny as I was, however, I still remembered I was now a slave, and whom I belonged to. "Oh Please Miss MaeBelle! I beg! I beg you! Please let me cum." I was sobbing a little, my tears running down my cheeks as I pleaded pitifully for the orgasm I ached for. 

"Not on your life bitch," she answered. "Today you are Alcee's whore, and you will satisfy him first, even before me. You may cum after he has made you a woman by filling your cunt with male seed, and not one second before. 

Alcee raised his head from my breasts and kissed me hard on the lips, exploring the inside of my mouth with his tongue. As he came up for air, he looked deeply into my eyes and demanded to know, "Do you want me to fuck you... is my little honky slut ready for a black cock in her precious stuck up white cunt?" 

"OH YES SIR!" I exclaimed! "I do so want you to fuck me." 

"Beg me then slut! Let me hear you beg for it." 

By this time I was so horny, so in need of an orgasm, I no longer remembered how shameful it was for a virgin white woman to be begging for a nigger to fuck her. I was in heat, without conscience, without pride, willing to crawl and plead for any penis in my cunt. A white penis, a black one, one with poke-a-dots, I didn't care about color or consequences, and I was more than willing to say so.

"Oh yes, Alcee! Take me! Be my sex Master! Fuck me with your big black cock. Fill me with your hard dark meat. Ram me! Pound me! Cut me open! Split my cherry and make me bleed. Make me a woman. Shoot your sperm into my womb and leave me a black baby there." 

Alcee gripped Maebelle by her hair and yanked her head from between my legs. His hips quickly replaced her, and I could feel his long prick pressing lengthwise along my slit. 

"All right white slut, are you ready for me to slice your cherry?" he asked. 

Oh yes! I was ready! I was so ready. He wanted me to beg did he? Well then, I would beg, "Yes please, please, fuck me! 

Satisfied at last that I had been suitably humbled, my ebony stud was ready to give me my reward. "Take me in your hand slut," he instructed. "Start me between your pussy lips. I will do the rest." He raised his hips to give me room, and I reached down between us, fumbling as I found that iron rod and started it into my cunt. 

"Maebelle!" he called for his girl friend to help him. "She has me in! Stretch her arms out above her head and hold them there. I want my little virgin helpless when I slice through her hymen and pin her to the bed with my cock."

At first, his hips dropped only slightly, allowing barely an inch of his manhood to slide past my pussy lips. He waited a moment or two, teasing me, before he hunched again, harder and deeper this time. I could feel the head of his cock pressing against my hymen, but it did not give way. He pushed, and then pushed again, but my virgin cunt refused to give him any more room. 

"Was I not normal? Was my virginity impenetrable and permanent?" No, not quite. Alcee knew what to do. He raised his hips, pulling back, almost all the way out, and then thrust into me once more, pile driving his cock home with the full weight of his ass. This time my cherry gave way.

God, but it hurt, and I must have bled although I was already so wet it was hard for me to tell. I bit my lip, however, and held back my scream. My father had taught me to be tough, and I was determined not to be a baby about this. After all, I was a woman now, and this slut fucker new exactly how to prove it. Neither my pain, nor my blood on his cock, discouraged him in the least from completing my deflowering. With piston strokes he pumped himself in and out of my increasingly sensitive female hole, soothing my hurt with the balm of his slippery cherry busting rod. Within minutes, in place of the hurt, a tide of pleasure beyond any I had ever before experienced came pouring in a great wave out of my womb.

I was about to orgasm when I heard Maebelle speak to me from behind my head. "Don't you dare come until he does bitch." Even tho in my early pain I had struggled briefly against her hold on my arms, in my later excitement I had forgotten all about her. Alcee must have also because it wasn't until she spoke up that he again included her in my deflowering. 

Once reminded, however, he put her right to work. "Sit on her face Maebelle," Alcee instructed her. "Make her eat your cunt while I fuck her." 

Maebelle slid forward over my head, making certain, however, that my arms remained pinned under her knees and calves. Her shaved pussy settled firmly on my mouth. She was very wet, and her fluids ran down my cheeks and chin. 

"Suck me you little bitch," she demanded. "Get me off! Fuck me with your tongue! Make me cum! NOW! 

It was hard for me to breathe, but I welcomed my mistress's pussy pressing on my lips as one more wave in the erotic flood that was drowning me. I had always heard that a virgin almost never orgasms as she is deflowered. That must be another of those myths spread by those who deny the joy of sex, because out of my womb came great tremors that shook my body from end to end. I had climaxed many times on my finger, but Alcee's great black penis shattered me as I had never been before. 

So great was my passion I had no chance to ask my Mistress for permission to cum, but I don't think she even noticed, she was so beside herself cumming in my mouth. Even as I began to explode, deep in my pussy I could feel Alcee's prick begin to pulse, and I knew he was filling me with his male jism. His body tensed, and his hips made one final thrust, shoving his full length inside me. I could feel the walls of my pussy grab at that hard silken cock as it slid past.

"My God but that was good," he said rolling away from me onto his back. "A virgin she may have been, but this little bitch is a born whore. Maebelle! Come here and clean me!" 

Maebelle had rocked back off my face satisfied and a bit exhausted. She looked down at her boyfriend's cock covered with cum, pussy juice, and blood. It was not inviting, and she resisted the order. "No way! Make her do it, it's her mess!" 

Alcee frowned. He didn't like being told no, but he could see her point. "It is her mess, I guess it should be her job to clean it up," was his reluctant answer. 

"Go down on me honky bitch," he was talking to me now, "and lick your mess off my balls. Suck my dick clean." 

In all honesty, I didn't mind doing so. I had been so well fucked, it seemed only fair that my mouth should be the one to clean my lover. Semen, female wet, and the blood from my broken cherry, they were not at all as disgusting to me as you might think. Indeed, still riding on an erotic high, I thought only of how sexy it was to bury my face in Alcee's crotch to lick away the fruit of my great virgin orgasm. Indeed, to this day I believe it may have been the sexiest thing I have ever done. 

The three of us showered together, playing in the water like children while I scrubbed them both. On my knees I first licked Maebell's pussy, and then sucked Alcee's cock. While I gave him his hard-on back, his hands were all over Maebelle, squeezing her tits, tugging at her nipples, running his finger into her slit. By the time he was again an iron rod in my mouth, she was every bit as ready as he was. 

He fucked her standing in the shower with the warm water running over us. She wrapped her legs around his waist holding his belly tight to hers, but hunching her hips to rock the inside of her cunt back-and-forth over his member. He staggered for a moment under her weight and the frenzy of her assault, but bracing himself against the shower wall with hands under the cheeks of her ass, he held her there as she took her pleasure from the great woman pleaser that filled her. I tried to do my part. On my knees under their union I licked at the junction of his cock with her pussy. Her feminine juices ran down my cheeks, and when he finally filled her, I licked away the male seed that leaked out from around his shrinking tube. 

After they were done, I once again carefully soaped and rinsed them clean. This time, however, they were ready to be dried with a rough towel. Then it was back to Alcee's bed for all of us. Alcee was a superb cocksman, and apparently inexhaustible. Maebelle and I spent the rest of the day trading his cock between us, although she did not let me forget that I was only a slave, and not allowed to use her boyfriend's penis until she was fully satisfied. Of course I also had the additional duties of serving them both with my mouth whenever Alcee needed a rest. 

Alcee has fucked me many times since then, and in my every hole. Over my next two years in college, Maebelle and I would regularly visit him at his duplex, and other times he would come to our dorm room, often even spending the night with us there. If I was not a slut before I became Maebelle's roommate, she and Alcee certainly made one of me. 

Not that I regret a thing you understand. Every girl fondly remembers her first lover, and Alcee was mine. Such a stud he was too as he pleasured me, and one after the other took each of my cherries, my mouth, my pussy, and my ass, with his ebony penis. God almighty, how I did enjoy every minute I spent on the end of that magnificent hard-on. 

I even enjoyed the times he would punish me for some real or imagined misfeasance reported to him by Maebelle. He would handcuff me, and hang me by my arms from a hook in the ceiling of his duplex. I would dangle in the air, my feet not even touching the floor, while he beat me with his belt. It hurt terribly, and weeping I would beg and plead with him to take me down and fuck me. Eventually he always did. To me, the pain was well worth having his cock in me afterwards. Sometimes I intentionally misbehaved in order to be whipped and then fucked by my big Negro sex Master. -----------------------------------------------------

5. MONICA AND MONIQUE.

Alcee was not, however, the only sexual experience introduced to me by my new roommate. Monica and Monique had been a part of Maebell's kinky little world of sex from the time she first arrived on campus two years earlier. Neither were students at the college. Monica was a restaurant waitress, and Monique was a teller at the only bank in town. They lived together in an apartment just down the street from our dorm. Monica was blonde, tall and thin, but with an amazingly large set of boobs for her lanky frame. Monique was petite and dark with raven black hair, but quite well built. 

Monique was Monica's sex slave. I gather she had been for a long time, well before Maebelle first knew them. Both, like Maebelle, were bisexual, although Monica was by far the most "butch" of the three, and I think Monique, given her druthers, would have always preferred the penis to the vagina. 

I first met Monica and Monique when they dropped into our dorm room the day after Alcee sliced my cherry. Maebelle was quite proud of me, and eager to show me off. I think before I came along, she had been envious that Monica owned a slave and she didn't. 

Anyway, I had hardly been introduced when Maebelle ordered me to strip and show her friends my tits and pussy. These women were strangers to me. At the time I didn't even know of the Mistress/slave relationship between them. I wasn't a slut, not yet anyway, and I was terribly embarrassed to be ordered to perform like one in front of people I had never even seen before. 

Maebelle was furious at my rebellion. "Look here you worthless little cunt, you will do as you are told or I'm going to take the skin off your ass with a bull whip." 

"She isn't very well trained is she? " Monica asked condescendingly. "Would you like me to have Monique show her how to behave?" 

That it did it! Monica's smug superior attitude really set MaeBelle off. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to my knees. Her right hand came around in a haymaker that landed with a slap on the side of my face that left my ears ringing. "Well are you going to strip or not?" she demanded to know. 

The way she bit off her words made it clear she was not asking a question, but making a threat. An "or else" was not said but it might as well have been. 

I answered the only way I dared. "Yes, Miss MaeBelle, I will do is you say."

As I began to undress I could see that Monica was thoroughly enjoying my reluctance to follow my mistress' orders. With an air of superiority she spoke to Monique. "Strip yourself girl! Show Maebelle how a real slave obeys her mistress." 

Within the next minute or two, both Monique and myself were standing naked before our respective mistresses. Monique cupped her hands beneath her heavy breasts and lifted them in an offering to Monica. I sensed that this was an unspoken contest between Monique and I to see which Mistress owned the most obedient slave girl. Not to be outdone, and I offered my breasts in the same way to Maebelle, but went one better using my thumbs to flick my nipples. My little touch of sly gamesmanship did not go unnoticed by Monica. 

Trying to recover the initiative, she spoke to her slave. "Monique, Beg Miss Maebelle to let you eat her pussy." 

"Miss Maebelle, may I please eat your pussy," Monique echoed her Mistress, and then for emphasis, she added with admiral sincerity, "please, please, Miss Maebelle, I promise I will make it so good for you." 

Maebelle could see that her friend had outmaneuvered her. There was nothing she could do but play along, and hope for the best from me. 




Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 01-06



"Of course, sweet thing," she replied opening her knees and pulling her panties to one side, "but it wouldn't be fair for mine to be the only pussy serviced." She stared at me with a warning look in her eye that I had better not screw up, and said. "Mary Beth, ask Miss Monica for permission to suck her cunt also." 

"Miss Monica," I begged in the most humble tone I could manage, "it would be an honor if I could suck your lovely cunt. Please, may I be allowed to lick your clit and fuck your crack with my tongue. I will give you great pleasure I promise, and you may come in my mouth if you would like. I'm sure that your lovely pussy and its cum will taste so good."

Monica frowned. That was a damned good speech, and I was lucky to boot. Everyone but me knew that there was nothing 'lovely' about Monica's cunt. I had just trumped her own slave twice in a row, and Monica didn't like the way things were going at all. She had started this, however, and she couldn't quit now. 

Her air of smug superiority was gone as she snarled at me, "You may, bitch, but be damn sure your mouth swallows my sex, all of it, and your tongue goes in deep."

I dropped to my knees and crawled between Monica's spread legs. Her skirt was up and she wore no panties. She had the largest vagina I had ever seen. Course brownish black pubic hair ran up her slit and on to her belly where it ended in a big dark shaggy mat that belied the blond hair on her head. At that time my familiarity with pussies was limited, and compared to the neat trimmed or shaved pubis of my mother, or Maebelle, Monica's sex was disgusting. 

I knew, however, what Maebelle expected of me. If I failed to suck this unappetizing vagina with all the enthusiasm I had promised, my Mistress would be ashamed of me, and I would probably be cruelly whipped as a consequence. An unkempt bush over an unusually large and ugly female gash was no excuse. Abruptly, I wedged my head between Monica's thighs and began. I was determined to make my Mistress proud of me. 

To my left I could hear Maebelle began to whimper as Monique either found her G-spot, or captured her clit. "GO!!" I thought, just a little desperate. I must not fall behind. Redoubling my effort I began to lick Monica's ugly gash even more frantically. 

At the top of her pussy I found her little nub of a clit buried in pubic hair and under its folds of protective flesh. My tongue quickly isolated that super sensitive tip of nerves, and I concentrated all of my efforts on its head. It worked! That clit was Monica's trigger and when I pulled it, she went off like a shotgun. Her fingers tangled in my hair pulling my face deeper and harder into her crotch. Monica's cunt may not have been attractive, but it was certainly sensitive. She gasped, then squealed, and then began to beg. 

"More! More!" she pleaded. "Damn you! Don't you dare stop!" she threatened even as she shuddered with orgasm. Then to no one in particular, she announced, "Oh Lord! It's so damn good! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" 

I had won! I had beaten Monique in Monica's little game, but only barely because Maebelle went off in Monique's mouth seconds after Monica had exploded in mine. 

"Call it a tie Monica", Maebelle offered her friend graciously. "Our two girls are both as good as they come...or should I say 'cum'." Maebelle giggled at her bad pun, then asked, "should we reward them? " 

"I suppose so," Monica answered. I could tell she was still little a cranky about having cum before my Miss Maebelle. "Who should be on the bottom?" she asked."

Mary Beth I think, "Maebelle answered. "she's so tall. It will be easier for Monique if she is on top." 

"Come here Mary Beth!" Maebelle ordered. "Lift you're arms over your head. I want to play with your tits while I talk to you. 

I did is she asked, exposing my breasts to her hands. They felt delightful, stroking and squeezing my soft globes, stretching and teasing first one nipple and then the other. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Monique standing before her Mistress in the same exposed pose as myself, offering her breasts to her mistress in the same way. 

It seemed to me that Monica's hands were more harsh and cruel than those of my Mistress. Monique didn't seem to mind, however, To the contrary I could hear her moaning in pleasure. Indeed, the whole thing was so intensely erotic I could not help but moan also, and my wet overflowed my pussy and ran down the inside of my thighs. 

Before I began to orgasm, however, Maebelle explained that she and Monica were going to allow Monique and I to eat each other's cunts until we came. She asked if I've ever done a 69 before and I shook my head, 'no.' 

"It's going to be great fun Mary Beth," she assured me. "I'm sure you're going to enjoy it immensely. Now lay down here on the rug. Once Monique is on top of you, circle her thighs with your arms and pull her pussy to your mouth. Do good job, and I'm sure Monique will do the same for you." 

I did is I was told. On my back on the floor, Monique straddled my face, and stretched herself down the length of my body until her chin rested in my pussy hair. Her soft breasts felt so good on my belly, and mine must have been equally sensual rubbing against hers. 

As instructed, I wrapped my arms around the outside of her thighs and pulled her cunt into my mouth. Monique was already licking my slit up and down as I set to work fucking her with my probing tongue. She found my clit and began to nibble me there. I retaliated by swirling my tongue around and around the sensitive little nub I found already out at the top of her pussy. 

Shortly we were both whimpering and squealing, although the sounds that vented our pleasure were muffled, choked back by the female flesh that smothered our lips. Monique was so wet that the juices from her pussy were running down my cheeks, and I am sure I was giving her a face full as well. I wanted badly for her to climax first to show Monica that I was every bit the equal of her slave. This time, however, I lost our little game, and with an explosion that I could not control I came in Monique's mouth. She tightened her grip around my thighs to control my bucking hips, and resolutely held back her own climax until I had finished. 

Both Monique and I could have easily cum again, and indeed we would have dearly loved to do so, but from behind me I heard Monica say, "THAT, is quite enough girls. Maebelle and I'm can't be expected to wait around here all day while you two pleasure each other. Go shower now and then get dressed. We have shopping and other things to do."

Once in the shower, Monique hugged me to her body and rubbed her breasts and nipples against mine. "Did you enjoy eating my pussy? Did I taste good?" she asked. 

"Oh yes! I did! Your pussy tasted so sweet," I answered, "And you did such a good job sucking on mine. God! Your tongue was so good." 

Monique smiled, then kissed me on the lips, and ran a finger deep inside me. With her other hand she lifted one breast in order to press its nipple directly against mine. I responded with a finger in her cunt as well and we stood there under the warm water jerking each other off until we both came once more. 

I was beginning to whimper quite loudly, but Monique put a finger against my lips and whispered to me quietly, "Hush now Honey! You must be quiet! We will be whipped if our Mistresses learn we have made love and cum without their permission. We are slaves you and I. You can be sure that we will always be treated that way by our mistresses, forced to eat their pussies, sold as whores to service the cocks of strangers, and whipped if we resist in the slightest. Our own satisfaction will seldom be of any consequence to our owners. Still, if we are clever and careful, we can make our own pleasure. We must love and pleasure each other, Mary Beth. There is no one else to care for us." --------------------------------------------------------

6. SOLD AS A WHORE.

Once dressed, Monica drove us in her car to a novelty store where our mistresses bought each of us a new dog collar and leash. The shop owner inscribed our nameplates and affixed them to the new collars. As promised yesterday my nameplate described me as "Miss Maebelle's bitch." The one for Monique's collar was the same except of course her owner was named as Miss Monica. The owner of the store gave us a strange look when he was told the inscription's we wanted. His eyes became even bigger, however, when Miss Maebelle and Miss Monica put the collars around my neck and Monique's, and led us out of the shop by our new leashes. 

Monica then drove us to the home of the president of the bank where Monique worked. I was surprised when a pretty but rather heavy woman answered the door. "Our whores are here dear," she called back into the house. "Oh my, what a nice treat," she said as she turned back to lead us into a large and expensively furnished living room. 

Her husband, a tall man in his early fifties wearing a bathrobe and apparently nothing else, came in right behind us. He was staring at me quizzically, "And who might this be?" he asked. "I don't think we have met before."

"This is Mary Beth. Maebelle's new slave," Monica answered him. "She has a great mouth and a sweet pussy. I'm sure you're going to enjoy her. Of course the price is going to go up, doubled in fact, because you now have the use of two slave whores rather than just one."

Monica and the tall man began to haggle over price, and I pretty much lost track of what they had to say. I was being sold as a whore, and I didn't want to hear about the details. Instead I watched the woman who had greeted us at the door strip off her dress, bra and panties. Hanging heavily from her chest was a pair of the very large breasts that plump women almost always have, and they dangled and swayed enticingly as she stooped to pull her panties off her legs. She had very large areoles, and each of those fat nipples had been pierced to accommodate a little gold ring. I suspected that it wouldn't be long before my mouth would become acquainted with those nipples and their rings ...up close and personal.

Naked, she broke into her husband's debate with Monica over my price. "I don't give a fuck what she costs, she's fresh meat. Pay her! I'm all hot and horny to see her jerk off, and then have her eat my cunt. After that, if she also feels good on the end of your cock, then she is a bargain at any price."

It was clear who was boss in this House. He argued no more and quickly agreed to Monica's new price. "All right Susan", he said turning to his wife, "It was more than I should've paid, but she's all yours. What you want her to do for you first?"

"Have both slaves strip and masturbate while we watch. Clear the magazines off the table in front of the couch. They can stand on that where I can get a good look at them stroking their pussies."

Monique and I were not wearing any underwear, and it wasn't more than a minute before we were standing naked on that low table. Monica handed Monique a vibrator shaped like a penis, and told her to get busy using it in her cunt. I ran my index finger up inside me and started to finger frig myself. 

"No, No! Not with your finger!" my mistress interrupted. "Susan here wants to see your cunt lips stretched and grabbing on something long and fat. Anyway, you will find using a dildo is so much better." 

With that she snatched my hand away from my pussy. Monica handed her a long black artificial penis that Maebelle cruelly jammed full length into my poor hole. Until moments before when Monica handed Monique one, I had never even seen an artificial cock. I hadn't a clue about how to use one... and it was so big and it stretched me so... I thought it would split me open. Maebelle jacked it in and out a couple of times before she took it all the way out, put it in my hand, and ordered me, "Now you do it!" 

Oh my, how my pussy walls did complain about taking that thing. It didn't take long, however, before it found my G spot, and my pain gave way to intense pleasure. With every in-stroke its head pressed against the opening to my womb. With every out-stroke its plastic crown tugged at my labia. In each direction it raked my inside so deliciously. I think I might have cum right then had Susan not interrupted by lashing the back of my thighs, and then my breasts, with a belt. 

"Fuck yourself, you little whore. Show me how a whore diddles her pussy. Tell me slut, does this hurt?" she asked as she struck me again and again with that stinging belt. "Well it should. You deserve to be punished. You come into my home to fuck my husband, and expect me to stand for it? Well, you're here. I might as well help you do what you came for."

With that she grabbed me by the arm I was using to fuck my pussy with the dildo, and threw me off the table. My fall left me seated on the floor with my back against a wall. The dildo was still in my hand, but not for long. Susan cursed me a she snatched it away just before her husband stepped across my legs. His robe was gone, and as he straddled me, his cock stood out stiff and straight just above my eyes. Bending his knees into a half squat, he lowered his cock directly into my face. Any doubt about what he wanted disappeared when he braced himself with his hands against the wall, and leaned forward to press his prick head against my lips.

I opened my mouth and swallowed as much of him as I could, alternately driving him deep down my throat, then pulling back until my lips barely held the tip of his crown. I must have stroked him that way a dozen times or more before I heard his wife hollering at us. She sounded very angry. 

"Suck him, damn you! Suck him you little whore," Susan commanded after letting fly with a string of cuss words, and then calling to her husband, "And you Arthur, God damn your ass, you don't get hard like that when I suck you. You don't get hard for me at all any more. Just look at you with your prick in that whore's mouth. Disgusting! You like a whore's mouth better than mine do you? Perhaps I have something that will teach you a lesson." 

Arthur screamed in great pain, and for good reason. From behind him his wife had stuck the dildo I used to masturbate up to its hilt in his ass. Fortunately, it was still slippery from my pussy, but it was also very large, and his wife showed no mercy in the cruel way she thrust it up inside him. The thing must have raked his prostrate as it went in because great spurts of semen immediately filled my mouth. I swallowed frantically. It was either swallow or drown. 

Susan yanked her husband away from me, and shoved her crotch into my face replacing her husband's cock with her pussy. "Now you little bitch, let's see if you are as good at sucking cunt as you are cock. Eat ME! You WHORE! Run your tongue in deep! Tongue fuck me, and be sure to take good care of my clit." I didn't think she was bluffing when she added, "And if you don't make me come in the next two minutes I'm going to take a riding crop to your ass."

I didn't need to hear anymore. I went to work on this angry threatening woman's pussy with everything I had. I will always be grateful to Monique for coming to my aid by pressing her body against Susan's back. Monique has such lovely breasts and nipples. Soft and feminine they must have been delightfully sensual to Susan's spine. Even more so must have been Monique's hands reaching around Susan's broad body to squeeze those fat tits as she tugged and pinched at the nipples. It may not have been exactly two minutes, but it wasn't much longer than that before the orgasm Susan had demanded arrived, bringing with it what seemed to be a gallon of female juice that spurted into my mouth and across my face.

"All right children, you're not playing nice together." I heard Monica say from across the room. I cleared my face from Susan's snatch and looked to see. Maebelle and Monica were both holding riding crops, and both were naked except for black boots, and a leather something halfway between an uplift bra and a vest that tightly zipped underneath and lifted their breasts. On the floor all around them was cuffs, chains, and shackles. "You, Susan." Monica commanded, "crawl over here to me and take your medicine. You have been such a bitch. You have a lot to pay for."

Just that quickly the attitude and demeanor of our hosts became craven and submissive. Arthur crawled on his hands and knees to kneel abjectly before Monica. She held out her foot to him, and wiggled her toes under his chin. Arthur needed no further instruction. He took her foot in her hand and kissed its top before beginning to suck her toes, then cleaned between them with his tongue. 

The change in Susan was even more dramatic. The angry mean bitch we had seen up to that instant disappeared, and in her place was a pitifully shy totally submissive slave woman trembling on her knees before Maebelle. As eager her husband to pay homage, Susan wrapped her arms around Maebelle's hips and pressed her mouth against that shaved pussy. For some minutes Arthur and Susan continued their tribute, long enough for Arthur to suck clean the toes of both Monica's feet, and for Maebelle to have a small orgasm on Susan's tongue. 

"All right you two worthless pieces of trash, stand up and assume the position," Monica ordered. Arthur and Susan scrambled quickly to their feet, spread their legs to shoulder width, and locked their fingers behind their heads in the posture of a prisoner in surrender. They seemed quite practiced and familiar with 'the position' Monica wanted. Obviously this was something they had done before. 

"Tell me Arthur ", Monica continued, " Have you have enough of your wife's bitchy demanding shit?"

"Yes Miss Monica. I certainly have. Sometimes she pisses me off so bad I could just... " his voice trailed off in anger and frustration. 

"Would you like to punish her for it?" Monica asked. 

"Yes ma'am. I would give most anything for that." 

"Well, Arthur, this must be your lucky night. At absolutely no extra cost, Tonight I Miss Maebelle and I are going allow you to use this riding crop on your nagging bitch of a wife. Hit her anywhere you like, on her fat ass, belly, or tits, nipples too. You get only ten licks tho, so make them good ones. Susan is going to count each one for you, and after each one she's going to thank you for correcting her bitchy behavior." 

Monica took a pair of handcuffs from the pile of restraints and walked behind Susan to lock them on her wrists. "This is just in case you forget and let your hands come down from behind your head when you start to hurt." 

That was not all she had to say, however. She grabbed a fistful of Susan's hair and cruelly yanked her head back as far as it would go. Speaking softly into her ear, she gave Susan her instructions. "Now, you fat bitch, remember to count, and to thank your husband after each lick. Anytime you forget, that one doesn't count as one of the 10, and should you forget twice in a row, or lose count, he gets to start the 10 over from the beginning. Do you have that straight pig? What about it? Do you think you can do this properly?" 

Monica walked back to Susan's front where Arthur was waiting. She handed him the riding crop, and said, "Have fun kids because when we're finished, there will be some entertainment special for MaeBelle and me that you might not enjoy as much." 

Arthur moved to stand at one side of his wife, and drawing the crop all the way back, he struck her a vicious blow directly across those plump breasts leaving a flaming red mark behind. Susan screamed, and then counted, "one." Monica waited for moment before marking her mistake. "You dumb bitch. You didn't thank him. That one doesn't count. We start again at number one."

Susan began to sob, but when the next strike came, this one across her belly just above her pubic hair, she screamed again, but she remembered. "One. Thank you my husband. Thank you for teaching me to be a better wife."