3 comments/ 27429 views/ 3 favorites The Big Toe By: bigrimmstales I'd seen her outside with her foot up on the front wheel of my four-track. Her skirt was billowing around her and she had the cutest pair of pink lace panties covering what I imagined to be an equally cute pussy. I didn't pay much attention to her face. No, what fascinated and drew me to her was not the sexiness of the situation and her obvious overall sexuality, but that foot. You see, it was so dainty, with toes painted different colours. I couldn't help but step closer to inspect them. I found myself drawn to her, drawn to those delicate toes. Was I going mad? I had never in my life been turned on by a pair of feet, even less when I had just seen such a beautiful chance sight of her lace-covered pussy. Yet with this woman, my eyes could not leave that foot. Let me tell you about it. It was, as I've already said, dainty and each toe was painted. But it was also more, so much more. It was encased in a finely strapped shoe that was obviously very expensive leather and although like an act of bondage for that foot seemed to caress rather than grasp it. The heel was high. In fact, it was suicidal in rake, yet her calves seemed unstrained and there were no bulging tendons showing, or at least from what I could see. I would have to touch to know. Oh, how I wanted to touch that dainty foot! She seemed in no hurry to place 'ce pied' down on the ground. Nor was she particularly bothered about her skirt that continued to blow around her waist. So would she mind if I took a closer look? "What are you staring at, farmer's boy?" she asked in a harsh, Chicago drawl. It was my chance. I could talk to her. I could get closer and look at her feet. I had an excuse. I was trembling but realised this could be to my advantage. "I don't bite you know," she said, her voice more conciliatory, softening from the 'attack'. I must have looked like a real hick, with my greasy overalls on from repairing my uncle's tractor. Only my hands were pristine as I'd just lathered them in cleanser and picked the oil from under my nails. Though I saw the advantage. She didn't know who I was or what I really did for a living, so I'd play along. It might get me to where I definitely wanted to go. "S-s-sorry miss," I said in a really quiet voice. "I-I-was admiring your art work on your toes." I kept my head down, looking like a really timid jerk, hoping she'd fall for poor ol'me. I even imitated the local accent to make me sound even more stupid, more like Hicksville USA. "Oh, farmer boy, so you really like it do you?" Her voice was so much softer now, caressing my ears with its melody. I guessed she was from Chicago but had come into money, changed her accent to fit, but leaked her past when angry or startled. "Come closer then and feast your eyes on my handiwork. I'm an artist you know, and this is what I did on my way here for the assignment. I've been practicing miniature painting and what better way than on my own feet. Do you like the work?" I moved closer, bending lower to see the handiwork. Should I dare? Should I hold her delicate foot in my hand? I placed my fingers next to her softly tanned skin, feeling the thick tread of the Humvee's tyre and imagined its contrast with her smoothness. My head was so low now that I was under her skirt. I had only to look up and I would see if the lace was folding into her labia, which I imagined to be full and pouting. I don't know why, but I sensed this was as much a turn-on for her as for me. Perhaps a clue was the subtle sweetness that seemed to come from above me, a perfume I recognised but could not pinpoint. "So what do you think?" she asked, her voice now sounding deeper, thicker. Was there some lust hinted at in the tone and pace? Slow and deep; so sexy. "I-I-don't know," I said, still feigning timidity, then added slyly, "D-d-do you mind if I hold your foot in my hand to, er, inspect it?" "S-sure," she said. Was she mocking me or was something more fundamental happening? Was she getting more turned on and perhaps losing control a little? "Yes, hold it and get real close so you can see what a good artist I am." Yes, she was getting turned on. The tone was deep again, deep and breathy now. That scent I had picked out from the myriad of smells by the garage was from her sex. There was no doubting it now. I knew that particular bouquet only too well from my recently failed relationship. 'One last fuck for the road,' she had asked for, and then walked out. Good riddance to the most boring fucker in the world, but oh, her scent was magnificent. Now she had a rival and one who was turning me on in a way I had never imagined possible. I took her heel in my hand, lifting the foot up off the tyre, but careful not to imbalance her. The scent of her cunt continued to waft over me, but now I could also smell the leather of her shoes. They were new, perfectly crafted and clearly expensive. Their art was to bind but caress this delicate foot, stretched to display its obvious beauty. I let my thumb gently caress her ankle as I inspected each toe. On her little toe, she had painted a tiny star in gold on a crimson background. It was simple, but showed off the perfect form of this digit. I felt bolder; squeezing a pressure point below the ankle bone, knowing this secret place would send delights to the apex of her body. I'd learned the technique from a Chinese girlfriend some years ago, but not until now valued its significance. As I gently squeezed, so I moved on to look at the next toe. In fact it was the next three. She had created a scene of a naked woman across the three, with torso and legs on the first two and the arms and head on the third closest to the big toe. The work was exquisite, such detail in so tiny a space. She even had managed to include nipples and a hairless pussy with labia showing. This woman was on a black background, contrasting with her slightly golden skin. It was the head on the third toe that both amused and aroused. Her eyes were closed but her tongue was extended towards the big toe. Instinctively I was blatantly caressing her calf and ankle now, using my other hand to support the sole of her shoe. I felt the contrasting grit of the road in my palm as the other ran up the smoothness of her lightly tanned leg. I heard the sigh above me, and turned upwards to see a patch of wetness creeping over the lacy pink crotch of her panties. Her aroma invaded my senses, but I had more to do. I had not inspected that big toe. "This work is magnificent!" I said, truly marvelling at her skill whilst completely aroused and besotted with this woman. I could not help but stare at the final detail. My cock strained in my overalls. It was unfettered by underwear but aching against the rough working garment. I was looking at a perfect miniature of an erect penis and heavy balls that were being offered up to that long tongue. Although a man, with a more than healthy interest in the cunts of women, I was aroused by this cock with its strong veining and evident size in relation to the scale of everything else. I wanted to lick it just as the reclined woman had or was about to do. That was the cleverness of the artist. Was she depicting the act about to happen? Yes, it was impulse, and possibly could be interpreted as a homosexual act by the homophobes out there, but I could not resist. I suddenly dipped my head and found myself licking and licking at that big toe. I heard her moan above me, grasping my hand that was now up to her inner thigh and there was the sound of ripping cotton. "Oh yes, lick my feet, and fuck me with your fingers!" Her voice was a whole octave lower. It was pure lust. Her breathing was harsh, hungry to be finger-fucked and her toes lovingly lathed with my tongue. I could hear her talking constantly, erotically, even pornographically, but I did not care. I was in heaven. I was in love with that big toe... The Big Top Theater It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and my small apartment had grown too close after days of cold weather. It was nicer outside and I thought a stroll to the nearby theater was a good solution for the winter doldrums. I wasn't wrong. Now this theater was not your usual Cineplex – it was an adult theater. I was a 25 year old healthy Hispanic male and so watching a little porn for a couple of hours on a Sunday seemed like reasonable thing to do. This was a common way for me to burn a few hours of wasted time. Today would be my lucky day. The theater was pretty dark but I could tell there were 7 or 8 other guys in there; probably all with their cocks in their hand. I sat up in the back so I had a maximum view of whatever was going on. I had been there about 20 minutes watching this flix of a chick with big boobs getting it put in both holes by a couple of well hung studs, when a couple walked in. My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness and I could tell a couple of things right off. First, these two did not normally frequent adult theaters and they had come here with a plan. From the dim light, I could see that they were both dressed in casual clothes that were not cheap. She was a big gal, dressed to impress with a short skirt, heels, and a sweater that made it obvious that she had tits – and lots of them. He was well muscled and squarely built. I don't think anybody would want to take him on. He commanded the area like she knew, and everyone else should know, he was in charge. They walked in and stumbled in the darkness trying to find a seat and the man urged the woman toward the side edge of the theater. Shortly after they sat down, I watch him put his hand under the edge of her skirt. I decided to move down to better see the action. He had move her skirt up enough that he was clearly getting a good feel of her pussy. As I sat behind I wondered what their gig was. I thought I would test the waters. I touched her neck and got no reaction. I touched her arm and no response. At this point I wasn't sure whether she wasn't sure what to do, wanted it, or thought that is was accidental contact. I decided to make a move that was more obvious. I reached under her arm and around her breast. She didn't move me away and she did make it easier. I then got bolder. I reached around the seat and moved under her short skirt towards her pussy. I encounter her guy's fingers and I pulled back immediately. He looked over at her and said "I think you have admirers." "I have had for a few minutes. I was trying to figure out how to tell you." I overheard her say. "Well, go with it. Enjoy!" He said. I took this as my clue that I was free to explore at bit. I started rubbing my hand across her neck and into her sweater. She had a very exposed cleavage that left only nipples to the imagination. I rubbed my hands across the cleavage and between her breasts.. As I dipped into the cleavage, I grabbed a little titflesh. I move my hand back trying to figure out how much I could get away with. I thought I would try again and I reached into her bra and felt large stiff nipples that were obviously excited. I looked down at the guy's hand whose was still under her skirt. His other hand was rubbing the outside of her nearest tit. After playing with her boob for a few moments, I decided to get bolder. I stood and came around the front of her and knelt down to look under her skirt. My movement must have signaled to the rest of the patrons that this lady was playing today as they descended on her like flies on honey. I moved her legs apart and reached up under her skirt to find a thong -- I didn't know they made thongs in that size but hey it make the getting to easier. She wore thigh high stockings so there was nothing to move there and I immediately begin to finger her. She moaned as I touched her, gently. Her clit was already large from being stimulated by her friend and she was very wet. There were several guys standing around her, most with flies open. Some of them had their hands on her boobs and her neck. One was playing with her ears. As I looked up, her eyes had a dazed looked from all of the attention. "Are you okay?" He asked her. She nodded. "You are calling the shots here. I will do what you tell me to do." She said. "You are a good little sex slave. I think they want you to touch them. Go ahead." He responded. An older guy with jeans, a leather jacket and straggly grey beard, reached for her hand and wrapped it around a short, fat, cock. He over laid his hand over her and moved it back and forth jerking him in a slow continuous motion. I saw two sets of hands stroking her neck and tits. A guy walked in front of her guy and held out another cock. Her guy reached her hand up to grab his cock and she began to stroke that one too. My fingers were in her pussy, she had a cock in each hand, two guy's hands on her tits, and her guy was as happy as a pig in shit. He was getting off on her being the star attraction and she was getting off my fingers. I overheard one guy ask "Does she fuck, too?" "Only me," Her guy responded. "Touching and fingering only. You guys are behaving well. This is good." I continued to finger her and she had cum at least once. She was giving me full access. Another guy moved in to finger her and I stood up. She moved her hand from the stubby old cock to find mine, which was thin and long. She smiled at me as if to say thank you. Her guy then encouraged her to thank us. And she did. She looked to her guy and said, "Please kiss me?" He planted one deeply as his eyes danced around to make sure she wasn't in danger. The old guy took her hand off of my cock and put it back on his. The hands got more intense on her tits and I looked up to find her tits pulled from her bra and sweater and now completely visible. I reached up to rub them and pulled back quickly when I heard her moan uncomfortably. "Too hard." She muttered. Her guy looked to the guy whose fingers were buried in her cunt and said, "That's too hard, don't go hurting her." The guy in her cunt immediately withdrew his fingers and she relaxed. I watched as an older guy who had been sitting down beside her guy reach around to touch some of her tits, with his other hand he reached into the groin of the guy and started to feel his cock. Her guy just looked at him with a look that said "don't mess with me." And he withdrew his hand quickly. I thought what nerve that guy has – there was a gay theater down the hall. He was obviously in the wrong room. I was surprised when her guy didn't get up and take her away from us after that but he held still. I knelt back down to take the place of the guy who had been hurting her. Lifting her skirt above her crotch so it was visible, I put my fingers up her pussy and my thumb on her clit. I moved quickly in and out and around. I watched the downward pressure of her legs and felt her begin to moan. Over the next few minutes, I felt the orgasm grow within her and continuously I kept the motion going that was getting her groaning. She was now making more noise than the movie was. I watched as she slumped into the chair and was spent. As a guy above her, reached in and pulled her breast out by her nipples, I moved in with my mouth and tongue to work on her clit. I licked and sucked and nibbled for and she moaned and writhed. I kissed her bush as I pulled away. I swear she came again, although it was a small one in comparison to the last one. But I could tell she was now very sensitive and she started to withdraw some. Her guy sensed her mood and told her to tell us thank you as it was probably time to go. "Thank you – that was great" She announced to all of us. She straightened up in her chair and pushed her big tits back into her bra and sweater. My cock was still out of my pants and right in front of her as she moved to get up. She reached down and kissed the side of my cock and said. Thanks especially to you. My day at the adult theater was made by a 50 year old broad who had been a sex slave at an adult theater for a little while on a boring January day. The Big Tow It was a cloudy afternoon and I finished up with my work early. I have been having the worst month and wanted to take a ride to clear my thoughts. It seemed as though my life was crumbling all around me. My boyfriend, who I had been living with and supporting for six years, was a cheating bastard, I had to leave him. Because of him and his promises I had racked up some major debt and had to deal with the constant calls from creditors. I just needed to get away. So, I hopped in my hot little car, I knew I wouldn't be keeping it much longer, the repo man was coming to get it soon. I even left my cell phone home, I wanted no distractions. I wanted to drive fast and have a little fun in the curves of the mountain roads, I had no idea what I had coming to me. I was just getting to my favorite part on the road where I could really let loose and go wild. Then, bam, I hit something! I immediately thought it was an animal, I couldn't see anything, so how could it be that I hit something. I pulled the car over to the side and noticed a major problem with the steering and knew right away I was going to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. I got out and inspected my MINI and saw there was nothing visibly wrong with it. I checked the road and saw a huge pot hole about 10 feet back. I couldn't believe it, what a terrible mess. I was so fucked. If anybody out there knows, when the shit hits the fan, it really hits hard. Never wonder if things can get worse, they can always get worse. I got back in the car and started sobbing. Not so much because of the current dilemma but all the shit that had happened in the last month. I was crying so much that I didn't have any concept of time or the fact that I couldn't drive away even if I wanted to. In fact, I only noticed a huge yellow tow truck behind me, when there was a tap at my window. Somehow I managed to roll down my window and there was he was, Martin, a familiar face with a very unmistakable looking tow truck, one of those cab-over, flat bed models. I had needed a tow a few years back when I was driving a work truck that had broken down and he came to my rescue back then, with a warm smile and a skillful knowledge of his work that was very comforting. I remember him clearly because he never really left my mind. Although I was in a committed relationship (so I thought!!!) he and I really hit it off. We flirted while he loaded my vehicle and he was being very professional but a little saucy. I found out from a mutual acquaintance that he thought I was hot and was bummed when he found out that I had a boyfriend. That is probably one of the reasons he never left my mind, he took an interest in me before I openly admitted my interest in him. It didn't hurt that he is devilishly handsome, with the most striking blue eyes, as if they were painted on. Those blue eyes pierced right through mine as I directed my attention to him asking me, "Are you okay? Do you need help". He realized right away that I was not okay and saw not only my tears, but I imagine my eyes were very swollen. I was a mess and I now started to feel self conscious about my appearance. I quickly tried to gather myself as best as I could and replied, "I think I hit the pothole and broke my car". "Is that why your balling your eyes out, I knew you had a thing for your car and all, but this is ridiculous", he said. I couldn't help but burst out laughing, not so much because of what he said, but how he said it, the expression on his face was priceless. I guess you really have to know Martin to understand the depth of his character and individuality that he possesses. "Well not exactly," I said, "It's a long story, but my current problem, and why I am here crying, instead of taking my frustrations out on the curves of the road." "Wow," he said, "You must have some serious frustrations." "Well, Martin, I have gone through the ringer in the last month. I don't want to get into all of it because I think I am done crying for now. But I can tell you something you may like to hear." "Oh yeah, what's that?" "I'm single" "What happened to the boyfriend, the asshole?" "Well, he really ended up being an asshole. He cheated and I ended it." "Good, his loss, can be my gain" he said as he threw me a gorgeous smile. I think that's when I knew. All the girls reading this story know what I'm talking about. That's when I knew I was going to give myself to Martin, all of myself. I know now, while I am writing this, that he was heaven sent. I smiled back and said in the sexiest voice I could muster up, "Can you help me, Mr. Tow Truck Driver". "In more ways than you think, Martha." "Well, let's not waste anymore time, do I need to do anything to help you get my car on top of your truck?" "No sweetheart, just wait for me in the truck and I'll be right there." I gave him a very appreciative look and squeezed his very tight ass as I walked by him on my way to sit in the truck. As I climbed in I could see that he kept all his things organized. He had a very neat truck, very clean and smelled really good, for a tow truck. A tow truck that belonged to one of the manliest men I know, the kind of guy that gets a BIC lighter based on which color is seen as the most masculine. I sat in the truck for a few more moments and thought to myself that this could actually be one of the most random sexual encounters I've ever had. I am a fairly conservative girl that has had long term relationships for most of my life. With the last one being a sexless relationship, honestly, it had been over two years since I had had any sex with someone other than myself. Like any woman with a man that doesn't put out, I pleasured myself at least once a day. I felt him reaching for the door to his truck before he even touched it. He climbed in and gave me a warm smile. I started to thank him for stopping and helping me, but I didn't know how I was going to pay for the tow up to my house, when he interrupted me and said, "Listen here Martha, I stopped because I saw your car, I am going to tell you straight up, I think you're hot and I want you more than anything. You make me so fucking horny. I'll tow your car anywhere, anytime to be with you." I responded the only way I could because I felt the same way, I jumped over the center console of the truck and leaned in for a very passionate kiss. That first kiss was unbelievable! He sent a chill down my spine that lit my pussy on fire. He had the softest tongue I had ever kissed, he tasted so good and all I could think about was how to get his pants off so I could get his whole cock in my mouth. As our tongues danced in each others mouth we both felt something that could not be stopped. I started pulling at his belt as he was slipping off my sweatshirt. I don't think either of us knew that this was totally out of our control. Like animals going at it. We needed each other like fish need water, like the sun needs the sky. Somehow I had gotten to my knees and was in position to swallow his rock hard cock. I couldn't wait, I have never in my life before felt such a hunger for it the way I have with Martin. As I gently guided his very erect penis in my mouth he let out a deep, moan. I started very softly, just barely grazing my lips over the swollen head of his cock. I heard him mumble something but couldn't make out what it was and just kept going on my insatiable urge to swallow his load. I just barely parted my lips and let my loose mouth slide up and down his hardening shaft. I let my tongue curiously explore each curve and groove of his manhood. He caressed the back of my head and guided my mouth over his shaft in such a perfect way that made me want it even more. I started to gag a little when his fully erect penis was deep in my throat. Each time his cock hit my gag reflex, it felt as though my panties were getting soaked in a deluge of silky, wet pussy juice. Without even realizing it he had positioned his strong hand just underneath my panties and started stroking my lips with the same rhythm as I was using on his cock. Up and down like a perfectly orchestrated dance. We were both on the verge of explosion. I was so close to losing all control when I felt it coming. His beautiful cock was starting to become more and more engorged. At that moment I felt his other hand grab the base of his cock and hold it very tightly. He shot me a look of surprise and said "Baby, I am going to cum, are you ready for it?" I answered him without saying a word. I simply forced my mouth over his massive man meat and just kept sucking. Harder... deeper... until I felt my gag reflex being teased to almost the breaking point. I couldn't stop my self, I wanted so bad to taste his ejaculation, to have his love juice inside my mouth and going down my throat. He braced himself against the steering wheel and began to moan louder and talk dirty to me. I loved it when he told me in a slow, deep voice, "Ooo Ooo, yeah baby, just like that. I love the way you suck my cock." When he uttered those words and others to that affect, I just melted. I could feel my clit on the verge of explosion, my pelvis was grinding into his magical fingers, I was going to cum at any moment. I kept going up and down on his pole, working my mouth and tongue, very loosely around and around. It was approaching, his climax, my climax. The whole truck seemed to be spinning. Around and around, up and down, in and out. I could feel him and I getting to that place that most people just fanaticize about. We were going to hit the roof together and I felt so lucky to be able to swallow his orgasm. He was quivering beneath me and I was the cause of it. In that moment I realized I was bringing on this excitement to his erect penis, my own fire started to burn, my clit was so stimulated that it felt like a corn kernel getting ready to pop. There was no stopping what was coming next. He let out a very loud, "Oh, JESUS" and started to stiffen his whole body against the back of his seat. I couldn't hold back anymore and began moaning and convulsing my body. It felt so incredible that I could barely take my mind off of it until I felt my mouth being enveloped by a hot eruption of his creamy goodness. I swallowed it as fast as I could, hoping for more to come. I was licking and sucking all of it. I my hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it with a gentle tug, in hopes of squeezing out as much of his juicy goodness as possible. I threw my body across the console and sunk into the passenger seat. He also adjusted himself and we sat back and reached for each others hand. He started up the truck and asked, "Where can we go to get cleaned up and finish what we have started? I have to have you now more than ever. Your pussy feels so good on my fingers, that, I want it wrapped around my cock." "I want your cock in my pussy as much as you want it. Let's go back to my place" Without any hesitation he put his rig in gear and we were on our way to pleasure each other for the rest of the night. And that is just what happened. We had hours of wild sex that night and as many nights as we can get together as possible. He is the most amazing lover and he puts me in positions I never imagined my body could go. Each time we are together I get introduced to yet another way to love and to be loved. I am so glad that I got the "Big Tow" The Big Trick Malcolm tried to open his eyes, they felt like ten pound weights were hanging from each lid. His tongue felt swollen, stuck to the roof of his mouth. He would kill for a drink, let a homeless man piss in his mouth for moisture. The dense pounding in his head was worse than any hangover he ever had. He had no idea how long he had been out, it felt like hours. After great struggle, he was able to crack open one eyelid to take in his surroundings. He was in a windowless room with a hard-packed dirt floor, lashed to a bondage rack, clad in nothing but his French cut briefs. They were his date underwear. The last thing he could remember was pulling up to Shay's dorm, ready to put another notch in his belt. He got out his car and set the remote alarm on his car when things went black. He could barely turned his neck to the left or the right so he fought to open his other eye. He blinked a couple of times and tried to adjust to the dark. He heard a click to his left and saw the wall slide inwards. Three figures entered the room, single file, cloaked in dark robes. "What the fuck?" He rasped, trying to force his tongue to move. None of the three replied, separating to opposites corners of the room. The tallest one stood next to a large table, covered in a white sheet. The second went to the adjacent wall, hitting a switch, flooding the room with harsh lighting, making Malcolm shut his eye to mask the pain. The last figure approached Malcolm, standing directly in front of him. It was holding a riding crop in gloved hands, which it tapped lightly. The tender pop of leather on leather made Malcolm very nervous. He tried to to move away as it approached, but the straps that bonded him to the smooth wood held firm. The figure dropped the crop to the side and removed the hood. Malcolm's eyes widened, a sheet of cold sweat washing over him. "Oh no." ** It was three weeks ago, a crisp October night in Atlanta. A light wind blew through the campus, carrying the faints sounds of lovemaking throughout the air to mix with the rest of the evening din. The source of the sound came from a second story window of the Pi Theta sorority house. Upon closer examination, the sound was not lovemaking, but frenzied fucking. Inside, a young coed was crushed deep into her mattress, neck shoved upon her headboard and limbs akimbo. On top of her was a muscular man, pounding his pelvis as deep as he could go; one hand pressed tightly against her breast, the other gripping her calf and pushing it back as far as it could go till her toes were touching the wall overhead. "Shit, Malcolm," squealed the coed. "Lay up a minute." "Shut the fuck up, I'm almost there." Malcolm kept up his rigorous sexual workout, bed frame groaning under the strain. The cooling wind from the open window did nothing to dissipate the stream of sweat running off of him. He shook his head to keep it out of his eyes, grunted in time with the banging headboard. The female moaned under the strain of her forced contortions and his rough grip, not to mention the stabbing pain from his hurried thrusts. Just as the twinge in her thigh marked the beginning of a cramp, he released his grip and pulled out. She felt the relief of relaxed limbs before she was barraged with bullets of cum, splattering her face and hair. Malcolm groaned as he tugged the remaining seed out of his cock before collapsing on the bed next to her in a panting lump. Shock was quickly replaced by anger as hot semen dripped off her nose, trailed across her lips. "Motherfucking Asshole!" She disengaged herself from the tangled sheets and jetted across the room to the bathroom she shared with her absent roommate. Malcolm chuckled, wagging his softening cock back and forth with his hand before wiping the sticky juices clean with her bedsheets, a mix of sweat, blood from a torn hymen, and moistened vagina staining the cotton. Rolling off the bed, he began to get dressed. The deed was done; another notch in his sex belt marked with pride. He looked around for his lucky drawers, a pair of black French cut briefs that he wore the first time he broke his cherry on the head cheerleader back in prep school. He was fastening the buckle on his belt when the door to the bathroom opened. His date came out, fastening her robe, a towel wrapped around her hair. She stared daggers at him, but he just smiled. "If I wanted to be fucked by a horse, I would have stayed on the carriage ride." She glowered at his casual demeanor. This wasn't the same man that surprised her with flowers in class, left love notes on her car, and treated her to a night on the town less than two hours ago. "Shit, Latisha" drawled Malcolm. "I didn't know you sorority chicks were into that sort of thing. Maybe next time, you freak." He laughed, stroking himself nonchalantly through his pants before buttoning his shirt. "Fuck you!" "Ah, we just did that." He slipped into his loafers and sidled around her to make his getaway. Latisha could only glare as he opened the door to her room and left without another glance. She was steaming, mostly pissed at herself for being duped by his suave repertoire. It wasn't the first time he pulled this stunt, but she refused to believe the rumors around campus. After locking the door behind her, she stripped the soiled sheets off the bed. The roar of a Mazda 3 in the driveway announced his departure. She scooped up the bottle of perfume that he brought for her and ran to the window, chucking it at the departing import. The glass shattered on the gravel, missing his car completely. Malcolm beeped the horn, waving bye as he spent down the driveway. Latisha slammed the window and returned to the bed. She picked up her cellphone and punched in the numbers. After a couple of rings, someone picked up the line. "Hey girl, I fucked up bad." She related the story to the person on the phone, hot tears began to spill down her face. She listened intently for a minute, a sneer slowly replacing the scowl. By the end of the conversation, she was grinning, evil in intent. "That's why you're my girl," Latisha laughed. "I'll tell the others and get back with you." Later that night, three members of Pi Theta gathered in the basement of the sorority house. There was Latisha, a bronze skinned beauty that rivaled Beyonce with the exception of much larger breasts; Malcolm's latest victim. In the overstuffed chair, still dressed in her party clothes, sat Chloe. Her line name was Glamazon, for her large frame and muscular build. She was the only girl on the collegiate wrestling team but had the looks to land her a small modeling contract during semester breaks. The last girl standing by the bar, hair pulled back in a ponytail, tugging at her rumbled pajamas while she mixed a drink was Tracy. Her rimless glasses pushed back on her head as she mixed herself a late night cocktail, she was the most plain of the trio. Spent more time in front of the books instead of the mirror, but had a hidden beauty that few ever saw. "Thanks for meeting me," said Latisha, fidgeting like her bladder was full. "The club was dead anyway." Chloe crossed her long legs, picking at a strand of thread on her dress. "Couldn't it wait till breakfast?" Tracy slurped the overflow from the highball glass before adding a couple of maraschino cherries. "Time is of the essence on this one." She didn't know how to drop the hammer on her sisters; they would freak out when they find out what occurred only a few hours ago. "I guess I should explain. Tonight..." She was interrupted by a tapping on the basement door. Everybody looked in the direction of the knocking, counting the taps to indicate the secret signal. After the seventh tap, followed by two long knocks. Latisha strode over to open the door. In bounded a thin man, dressed in purple slacks and matching sport jacket with a scarf wrapped around his neck almost trailing to the floor. "Hey Babies," squealed the flamboyant guest, doing a pirouette to show off his wardrobe. "Juicy!" the girls shouted in glee. Juicy was their unofficial sorority sister. The gay male loved the Pi Thetas, but pledging was out of the question. He was always over to the house, cooking scrumptious meals, dishing the dirt on fellow coeds, and using them for models when he designed his over the top fashion designs. After a minute of hugging and pleasantry, they got down to business. Latisha repeated the events that she relayed to Juicy earlier. Chloe uncrossed her legs and stood up. She strode over to Latisha, towering over her by a couple of inches. "What did I tell you about Malcolm?" She hissed through the teeth. "You get the highest grades every semester, but you're too stupid to stay away from the son of a bitch?" "Not you," chimed in Tracy slamming down her drink. "I thought he was never to darken this threshold again." Juicy stepped between Latisha and Chloe, putting a reassuring hand on their shoulders. "Now, babies. Whats done is done, but I have a plan to end this once and for all. The one thing that everybody in the room had in common was humiliation at the hands of Malcolm. Tracy was swayed by the only guy that would talk to her Freshman year. She never wore make-up, dressed down, kept to herself. Malcolm was nice to her, always walking her from Biology. They dated for a brief period, going to a movie or studying at night. When she gave herself to him the last night of the term, he became a beast. He fucked her on the cold metal bleachers of the football stadium, leaving his signature all over her new red blouse, and then refused to give her a ride back across campus. She walked home in a cum-stiffened top; his mark visible to all parties hanging out in front of the dorm. He stopped taking her phone calls, pretending she didn't exist. She couldn't do anything from legal standpoint because the sex was consensual and there is no crime in being an asshole. Juicy, who use to go by David, a quiet boy on the third floor of the freshman door, became a web sensation overnight due to a snooping Malcolm and his new camera phone. A naled rendition of Dreamgirls in the dorm shower made him the laughing stock of the third floor, confirming what everyone speculated. A public outing on campus that reached his small hometown, resulted in the abolishment of his full scholarship from his family's church, made Juicy wish for the day that Malcolm got his due. Chloe didn't fall for the charms of Malcolm; her younger sister did. A fraternity party was the scene of the crime, but over 50 independent witnesses saying it was a consensual event. Once again, Malcolm skirted trouble and Chloe sister left school shamed. The other thing the quartet had in common was revenge. Juicy licked his lips. "What does he have that get you girls all hot in the vajayjay?" His eyes cast a far away look. "I'd like to see for myself, I deserve that much at least." Chloe shoved him on the shoulder. "Stop getting hot and bothered. What are we going to do about this menace?" "Bring me a Cosmo and gather round, children." Clapping his hands together and placed himself in the chair that was vacated by Chloe, he unwrapped his extra long scarf and got comfortable. Tracy mixed a fresh drink for her companion and the rest pulled some chairs together to listen to him hatch his scheme. Three hours later as the sun began to rise, the house above them began to stir with life. Juicy took his leave the same way his came and the female trio retired to their rooms with revenge cooling on the brain. ** Malcolm was having one of his narcissistic episodes. He stood in front the mirror after having gotten out the shower, dripping water on the tile floor, towel hung limply by his side. He couldn't help grinning as he admired his bowflex shaped abs, flawless cocoa skin tone, and movie star looks. He wiped away a bead of water from his brow, smoothing a hand over his trimmed goatee, staring as if seeing himself for the first time. He dropped the towel from his left hand and picked up his flaccid cock. He hefted it, studying it like it was fresh picked produce. In it's limp state, it was something to admire. Almost nine inches with an impressive girth of porn star caliber, tapered with a bulbous head. He knew he had something special when he exposed himself during a gym class back in prep school. The looks and gasps from his classmates solidified what he assumed; he wielded the Excalibur of cocks. He's never disappointed when those black briefs were peeled down. He would hear the gulp of breath, see the widened eyes, the unconscious swallow of trepidation; he knew right then and there that she would be ruined for others. He was taught in the art of "laying the bone" by his favorite uncle. "You gotta show those bitches what you're made of," his mentor would school him between gulps of scotch and drags of menthol. "They scream cuz they can't believe their luck." He made it a rule to only deal with virgin flesh. He dealt with a minor bout of the clap back in his rookie days, vowed never to play with used pussy after that. He kept that promise, hunting down only the unexperienced and naive during his quests. He hated using condoms, they hindered the sensation. He only had three accidents so far, but as long as his father's checkbook was fat, he didn't worry about bastard children. "They love it." Malcolm thought as he began to apply moisturizer to his chest and arms. He squirted out an extra dollop before painstakingly applying the white cream to his member. He felt himself harden and willed it away. "Down, boy," He chuckled. "Why waste a good thing?" A banging on the door interrupted his vanity session. It was one his countless fraternity brothers begging to unload some greasy leftovers and beer. He quickly finished before wrapping the towel around his waist and opening the door. Letting his brother in, he whistled a tune as he sauntered down the hall towards his room. His Blackberry hummed on the nightstand as he closed the door. He read the name on the faceplate; Shay. She was ranked pretty high of his soon to be conquest, a runners body with a pair of tits that screamed for release from those colorful sports bras she wore around the gym. He let it go to voice mail, wiping the excess moisture from his face and got ready for bed. No need to gorge, he had the rest of the semester to satiate his sexual quota. ** Three weeks later, Malcolm was putting the final touches on his appearance before preparing for battle. He decided that Shay was ripe enough for his glorious dicking, plus he noticed the starting quarterback with an open nose, hanging outside her dorm. Shaking out the collar of his coat, he left the house and strolled to his ride with a spring in his step and an itching in his groin. He maneuvered his four-wheeled chariot carefully through campus, the Halloween festivities in full swing. Some of the Houses sponsored a trick or treat for younger children from low income neighborhood; the streets teeming with youngsters dressed in all manners of costume. What would have normally took about five minutes, took twenty. Malcolm got antsy as he got caught at just about every crosswalk. Finally, he pulled up to the Shay's dorm. Parking was ridiculous and he was forced to go to the back to find a spot. Getting out of the car, he popped an Altoid and check his image for the umpteenth time. Right as he was standing up, he felt a crushing weight against the nape of his neck and everything went black. When he came to, he was in the earthen dungeon, staring in horror at a glowering Latisha. To her right stood Tracy, a black medical bag clutched in her hands. Chloe stood on the left, wielding a Barry Bonds edition ash bat, next to the table covered with a white sheet. "Oh No?" quipped Latisha. "What, you expected someone else?" She took the riding crop and traced a circle around his nipple, tapping lightly on it to make it rise. "How many women have you fucked and left in the exhaust of your pussy mobile." "Hey, whatever misunderstanding we had.." he searched for the words to make things right, but couldn't get his brain to function. "Boo, what we had," Latisha moved closer, drawing the crop across his dry lips. "Was no misunderstanding." She turned to a cloaked Tracy, clicking her fingers to snap her out of a daydream. Tracy fumbled with the bag, setting it on the floor and rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for. Producing a hypodermic needle, alcohol swab, and a brown vial, she approached Malcolm who began to struggle even more. The door slid open again and another person scurried into the room. "I know you aren't starting without me," lisped the hooded figure. "No, ma'am," replied Tracy. "Just prepping the patient." "Patient?" Malcolm jerked around but the bonds held firm. "What the fuck is going on here?" Tracy didn't answer him, instead slapped on his forearm, looking for a vein. "Shouldn't you tie him off first?" asked Latisha. "Oh shit." Tracy reached under her robe and pulled out some surgical tubing, handing it to her cohort who quickly wrapped it around his elbow. Quickly, a vein popped up and Tracy continued, injecting the syringe in the bottle, drawing a small amount. She wiped his arm with the swab and before he could protest jabbed the amber liquid into his vein. Malcolm moaned, not from the pain, but from the apprehension of what would happen. He didn't know if he was poisoned, drugged, or both, but the increasing warmth in his arm scared the daylights out of him, his black underwear soaking with his own urine. Tracy pulled out a tape recorder and a stethoscope. As she measured his heartbeat, she began to speak. "10:15. Subjects heartbeat strong, pupils still normal." She turned to the rest of the group. "We have about five minutes." "Perfect," said Chloe. "More than enough time to explain." Malcolm eyes darted back and forth the room and the people surrounding him. Other than Latisha, none of the others revealed themselves, but it was obvious who they were. He sowed a multitude of flesh since arriving here, too many to remember, but he was about to reap, severely. Latisha stepped forward again with the riding crop. "Malcolm, you have a gift," she ran the leather fob over the outline of his groin. "But, you have no idea how to use it." "Please." He begged before she shut him up with a smack on the mouth. "In your famous words, 'Shut the fuck up, I'm almost there.'" She continued. "You, like to fuck. You enjoy it, as long as you can get your nuts off. You have no idea how many women you have hurt. While you may not have raped us, you did abuse us." She began tapping the crop against his thickening member. "You didn't just tear out our hymens, you took our hearts along with it." Malcolm felt the warmth spread throughout his body, centering on his dick as if someone laced his groin with icy-hot. He began to squirm, pushing his pelvis away from the board. "Oh my," drawled Juicy from the background. Everyone, including Malcolm followed the sound of his voice and then his masked stare to see what made him speak up. Five pairs of eyes looked down at Malcolm's crotch, the head of his cock protruding from the waistband of his briefs. There room fell silent except for the panicked breathing of their captor. Malcolm felt nothing but heat as he hardened before the room. He had no control over it, could only watch with the rest of room as he pushed father out from the constricting material. Tracy checked her watch and breathed into the recorder. "10:19. Subject fully engorged. Automated gestures starting." "What did you stick me with?" "My thesis." Tracy began to explain. "It's a rouge compound that I've been testing out, sorta like Viagra, but a much bigger beast." She laughed. "To even compare it to the thrill pill is an insult." The Big Trick Malcolm began to hump the air, like a male dog without a partner. He desperately wanted to fuck, something, anything. His brain was telling him the only way to cool off the intense burning was to stick his cock into something. "See," Latisha took the lead again."We figured since you like to fuck, we'd let you." She jerked him underwear down, letting his throbbing cock bob free. "Only thing is, it won't be us." Malcolm was barely hearing her words now, thrusting at nothing. Juicy couldn't contain himself any longer, pushing past Latisha, grabbing a handful of swelling penis. "Girl, this is should be in a museum," he chirped as he ran his hands back and forth over the girth. "Or on my dresser." Malcolm pushed against the manicured hands, drool forming at his lips as he felt the soft fingers squeezing around him. Juicy pulled out his Iphone and took a snapshot for prosperity. "Stick to the plan, Missy." Latisha pulled him back and beckoned Chloe. Together they went behind Malcolm and loosened the straps so he could put his hands down to his sides. He grabbed himself at once, jerking and tugging on his cock with both hands. He was no longer in his right mind, not bothering to fight his bonds. He did reach out for Chloe, grabbing a breast as she skirted by out of his reach again. She went to the table, flipping the sheet back to reveal an array of items. Picking over them with care like a budget consumer, she finally chose her first item. Malcolm was still tugging at himself, grunting, but feeling no reprieve. When he looked up, Chloe was holding a large watermelon in her hands. He saw pussy. His eyes said watermelon, his brain told him vagina. She dropped it into his outstretched hands and they watched him attack He dug at the rind with his fingers, tearing at it until red flesh was exposed which he promptly plunged his cock into. He pumped furiously away at the oblong fruit, juice running down the sides, seeds and red bits splattering against his thighs as he fucked away. The group watched in amazement as Malcolm fucked the fruit into pieces. The watermelon split into two hunks, falling away to the ground. He reached for it, but was out of reach, the straps not giving too much. He went back to using his hands, sticky with watermelon residue. "That, was different." said Tracy. She put the tape recorder to her mouth but couldn't find the words to describe what just transpired. Juicy licked his lips and tittered, "What a waste of good dick." "What a waste, period," spat Latisha. "I wonder what else he will fuck." She moved over to the table, and after a few seconds picked up an item. She returned with a wheel of cheese; swiss. For the next hour, the items on the table disappeared. They went through all the basic food groups, watched in muted awe as he mangled a Boston shoulder. They watched Malcolm as he fucked anything put in front of him. It it had a hole, he plowed through it. As much as he fucked, Malcolm couldn't relieve the burning. Everything was a wet slit, begging for penetration. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't reach that feeling that once encompassed him. "He hasn't come, any reason?" asked Chloe. "The drug inhibits ejaculation." replied Tracy as she scribbled notes down in her journal. "It started out as a male form of birth control, but impotency was the endgame." She looked up at the group, who was watching the action with apt attention. "So, I had to create a stimulant to produce a heightened libido, but I had no test subject, until now." "How long will he go?" asked Latisha. "That," Tracy looked back down at her notes, "Has yet to be determined." Malcolm heeded none of this as he kept fucking. He heard the voices, but couldn't make out the words. All he wanted to do was come. His thighs shuddered with exhaustion, cramps riding up and down his legs as he kept up the frenzied pace. He no longer sweating, slowly dehydrating in the musky room. He wouldn't have stopped if he wanted to. He felt the urge to blow, but every time he felt the crest of an orgasm, it subsided and he had to keep going. A spasm in his lower back caused him to howl in pain, scaring the others in the room. He couldn't, wouldn't, stop. The bag of recently cooked pasta began to spill, wet noodles falling around his feet. "Malcolm," Latisha called out to him. He paid her no mind as he struggled to keep the ziploc of spaghetti intact. She lashed the riding crop across his face, but got no reaction. He was gone. "Time for our exit plan," remarked Chloe with an exasperated yawn. The table next to her was bare, sans two items. As the others began to pack up, making sure to leave nothing behind, she stared at the humping figure. She felt a tiny pang of remorse for the bucking creature, but the look on her sister's face that fateful weekend clarified why they were doing this. When everything was removed from the room, they tossed him a cantaloupe, this time Chloe was kind enough to make a hole for him. As Malcolm busied himself with the tough hide and Chloe armed with the same bat she used a few hours ago, Latisha crept around the back of the rack and prepared the straps for his release. She cut enough of the leather that a few good tugs would break them. She then joined the others at the door right as he finished off the last of the fruit. He looked for his next conquest, lips caked white from exhaustion, eyes darting around the room. When they gave him the Jack o Lantern filled with crushed glass and honey, a present from Tracy, he grabbed it with no forethought. He shoved in with full force, gasping as the minuscule shards dug into his flesh. He began to speed up, desperate for ejaculatory release, the strap began to give and he fell to his knees, cock still impaled inside the pumpkin. He began to bleed from the tiny cuts but he didn't stop, feeling the familiar rise again. As soon as it subsided, he chucked it at the wall in frustration, immediately sorry that he did it. He scanned the room for another pussy, finding none, scrambled to his feet and staggered to the open doorway which the foursome left open on purpose. Two sheriff's deputies found a naked Malcolm in a field, miles from the university. They stared in disbelief at the man, frothing at the mouth tried to chase down a herd of once sleep sheep. Only when he succeeded in catching one, did the lawmen spring into action. Grabbing Malcolm by the elbows, they pulled him off the shrieking ewe, then had to fight tooth and nail when he turned his lust onto them. A couple well-placed tasers subdued him enough to place on the handcuffs, but once they got him to the car, he renewed his humping with vigor, finding the crack in the backseat sufficient. They took him straight to the emergency room, where the doctors had a hell of a time trying to find out what was wrong. Tracy did an excellent job on the masking agent as his toxin screen came up negative . They had no idea who he was as he wouldn't talk, just grunt and moan. He never was fingerprinted before, so there was nothing to identify him except his dental records. They sedated him and prepped him for surgery to remove glass and other objects from under the skin of his still erect penis. A chemical castration was administered after a couple of hours to prevent amputation, but he kept thrusting anyway. It was a week later, when Malcolm was identified. He had been under heavy sedation, strapped down to the bed after trying to fuck the surgeon and two recovery nurses. His father claimed him, whisking him off to a private clinic in Switzerland, threatening lawsuits all the way out the door. Even in his unconscious and impotent state, his pelvis jerked slightly. Rumors flew around school like the autumn leaves; numerous stories about what may have happened to Malcolm. Shay was interviewed by campus authorities, but her roommate confirmed the fact he never showed up for their date. Back in the basement of Pi Theta, Chloe, Latisha, and Juicy sat around the bar while Tracy made drinks. Pushing glasses in front of each one of them before taking her own and raising it, she made a toast. "To sweet revenge; served lukewarm, it's still delicious." Everyone clinked glasses and swallowed their mixed drinks. "Do you think he'll ever come to?" asked Latisha. "I don't care." answered Chloe, pouring more alcohol into her glass. Tracy pulled her notes from her bag, flipping through a page or two, before answering. "Think of his brain waves like an actual beach." She took a sip from her glass. "Right now, he is in the middle of a tsunami and when it's over, it'll be a miracle he learns how to blink. "I'm scared of you, girl." said Juicy, pointing a pinkie in her direction. Chloe stood up, glass half full. "I have another toast." The group joined her, glasses raised in a semi-circle. "Don't fuck with virgins!"