12 comments/ 237371 views/ 29 favorites Shame By: Mikelh Everyone is caught in the fierce embrace of life. And Jessica didn't know whether she should try to escape, or embrace it back. She'd held her conflict inside for too long and when the first crack appeared, it leaked out in a conversation with her new lover. Jessica sat beside Paul on the bed. They became intimate after an intense two months. He was the trim thirty-year-old she had chosen to be her first lover after her divorce. Jessica at thirty-eight didn't look any older than he did. This 'older woman' excited him, but she wasn't sure if the relationship would go anywhere. So she was almost surprised herself when she said loud what she had been feeling for a long time. Paul was the sounding board off which she could hear her own forbidden words. "Paul," She asked, "do you have a fantasy you've never told anyone...like I do?" Paul skipped over his own answer and said, "What is it you hot thing?" "No, I can't just say it." The conversation went back and forth with, "Jessica, I wasn't born yesterday and I'm not a prude, whatever your fantasy is, let's play with it." "It's too embarrassing...and you're going to be too disgusted by it to even want to see me anymore." "Don't be so dramatic, and you know you're too good a lay for me to let you go, so let's have it." She slapped his arm and laughed, "Okay...it's Anthony...my son...I have fantasies about him." Paul smiled with a leer, "Oh so you're a naughty mama are you? Now what kind of fantasies are we talking here, you doing him, him doing you...are there whips and chains involved?" "I knew I shouldn't tell you anything." "Oh come on Jess, I'm only playing with you, and it's not such a shocking thing for a mother to have fantasies about a nineteen year old son she's living with...and it's certainly not unusual for any guy to get turned on by a great pair of tits like these." He playfully pinched her nipple and that led to roughhouse play with all the laughing, tickling, and poking, that lovers often engage in. When they were exhausted and holding each other on the bed, Paul whispered, "Tell me what you want me to do momma." Jessica got excited with the prospect of the 'game' and said, "I want you to touch me...Tony." Paul fell into his role and said, "Where momma?" She pointed to her breasts and then between her legs and said, "Here, and here." He took her tit in his hand and massaged it. He then reached down between her legs and rubbed it. She began breathing hard and she moaned, in a voice he'd never heard. Paul said, "You're some piece of pussy momma." Jessica became uncomfortable. Even though her son Anthony never called her 'Momma,' it was still becoming too real; she was getting off on it too much. She went cold and said seriously, "That's enough Paul; I don't want to play any more." He shrugged and said, "Okay momma, your loss." As it turned out, it was Paul's loss. Jessica broke it off with him after that day. The crack widened during one of Jessica's late night calls to her sister. "Roe? Did I wake you?" "No hon, the phone did...just kidding babe, you know I don't get to bed until late. How are you; you sound funny." "Roe, I'm going to go crazy if I don't talk to someone." "Hey hon, you know I'm always here, even if we're in different parts of the country. Tell your big sister what's happening." Rosemary was thirteen months older, and much like the mother they had both lost before Jessica turned ten. "Roe, it's someone I can't get out of my mind, and I know it's the wrong thing, and he's much younger than I am and..." "Okay, so you met a guy; younger is good." "No Roe, I mean a lot younger." "We're not talking Mary Kay Letourneau here, are we Jessie?" "No, of course not, he's...Anthony's age." "Wow babe, you're all right, doing a guy half your age. By the way how is my handsome nephew?" "He's fine; Roe, can you stay with me here? I'm trying to tell you something." She became agitated and her sister knew her enough not to get defensive. "Okay hon, tell me, it's all okay, just tell me." "Oh God Roe, it's Tony, I just can't stop thinking about him." It went over Rosemary's head. "What do you mean? Is he okay?" "Yes Roe, he's okay, I'm the one who's not okay. Roe, I'm in love with him, or in lust with him, or whatever else the hell I'm not supposed to be with him." "Jessica...with Anthony? Did you...?" "No Rosemary, of course not, nothing happened, I'm just trying to tell you...it's becoming too much for me to handle." "Baby, I'm not sure what's going on with you, but maybe it's time Anthony moved out." "I thought about that...but I don't want him to, I want him near me...I want him...and I want to tear these thoughts from my head..." "Listen Jessie, maybe that's why you're driving yourself crazy...so you think about it sometimes, it's not a big deal. Don't beat yourself up about thinking about it, it only makes it worse...that doesn't mean you're going to do it...think about taking care of yourself, you'll feel better, and it'll pass. Fighting it just makes it hang around longer. Remember Jason?" Jason was the guy from high school who moved away just as Jessica started seeing him. Rosemary helped her through it, mainly by convincing her to take care of herself until she was tired of him. 'Taking care of yourself' was of course the sister's phrase for masturbation, and it had worked. Jessica did it day and night until the thought of Jason bored her. "Maybe you're right Roe, maybe I was too ashamed to think about doing something like that." When she hung up, Jessica was determined to exorcise her sexual urges for her son. She took her panties down and allowed the thoughts to come. She placed two fingers on the soft lips and began the rotating movement that just came close enough to her clit to stimulate it. "Tony," her mind said, as she increased the tempo. "Tony," as his lips replaces her fingers. "Tony," as his mouth starts sucking on the hood that shields her sensitive trigger. "Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony..." Jessica masturbated three times and finally fell asleep. Jessica masturbated for weeks and during that time she spoke to her sister to keep her resolve and to keep her raging desires in check. But sometimes, the wet paint sign makes it just to tempting not to touch. Is the paint really wet? As Jessica's birthday approached, Anthony asked her what she would like. "How about, taking me out for dinner and dancing," she said. "I haven't done that in years honey." Jessica had taught him to be almost as good a dancer as she was, and it had gotten him into bed with more than one girl. "Sure mom." He winked at her. "But you have to wear the black dress I like." The thought of dressing for him excited her and she knew why he liked that particular dress. That Friday night she was in the bathroom preparing for their 'date' when she heard Tony walk by and called to him, "Honey could you come in here for a second and zip me up please?" He walked in to an assault on his senses. His mother's back was exposed to her waist and he could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. The room was permeated with a combination of perfume from the bottle and the pussy she had been stimulating. When he touched her he involuntarily began to harden. He asked, "Do you need to put on a bra before I zip you up?" "I should," she said. But I don't have one that works with this dress, and the elastic in the top should hold me okay." She was holding the dress to her boobs and it excited him to see his mother with her big breasts in her hands. As he came close, he looked at her in the mirror and saw how different she looked with the make-up that she hardly ever put on. "Wow, you look great mom...totally hot." "Even if I don't, thanks sweetie. Before you zip me, would you put a little of this lotion on my back honey, I can't reach it and it gets so dry." He put the lotion on her soft skin. At that moment he pushed the fact that she was his mother to the back of his mind. He was touching a sexy woman and he imagined what it would feel like to slide his hands around and have her big boobs in his hands, instead of hers. Jessica was also in the grip of the chemicals coursing through her body. She unconsciously flexed at her waist and her ass made contact with her son's burgeoning hard-on as she said, "Don't you think I'm a little old to look hot?" When she didn't move back, neither did he. Anthony hardly heard his answer as the confusion and stimulation began clouding his mind. "No, mom." "That feels good Anthony...it feels good." She imperceptibly moved her hips and Anthony's disorientation deepened. Was she talking about his hands on her back or his hard-on on her rear? He looked in the mirror and saw her eyes closed as she started to softly moan and grind at the same time. His mother was rubbing his cock with her ass and there was no question about that. The sign was right; the paint was wet. "Oh mom, that feels good," he told her. It felt even better when he did reach for her breasts and she allowed the top of her dress to fall, exposing them as they rested in his hands. Jessica's period was approaching so her breasts were swollen beyond their usual fullness, so they felt even bigger to Anthony than he had imagined. He cupped them, and massaged them, and looked in the mirror at the unexpected sight of his mother's big tits filling his hands. He didn't think about what he did next. He lifted the bottom of Jessica's dress to her waist and didn't see the panties he was expecting. His mother's bare ass was grinding as she moaned. Anthony dropped his pants quickly as she leaned on the counter and flexed her hips up enough for him to see her pussy for the first time. His hands were practically shaking as he took his cock in his fist to bring it to her opening. The young man's cock was a thick swollen pipe as he approached his mother from behind. It was unconsidered lust that shoved it into her tender pussy. She was wet enough to allow it to enter, but she was unprepared for his size and the depth to which he thrust on his first entry. It was a yell of pleasure and dismay that his mother let out, "ANTHONY...Anthony..." He drove up into her, concerned only with, and overwhelmed by, his own pleasure. "Oh mom...oh mom..." was all he could manage to say as he sent his hardness in and out of his mother's wet hole. The noise of their fucking reverberated off the bathroom walls. There was none of the lovemaking that Jessic had fantasized when she had masturbated. Unthinking, unbridled lust drove the young man's cock deep, and hard, into his mother's pussy. For Anthony, at that moment, he had what any young man his age wanted, pussy. The fact that it was his mothers didn't bother him; it only made it more exciting. Jessica was in the throes of her forbidden fantasy and that would have been more than enough, until he hit that spot. Either no man had tried, or no man had succeeded before, but Anthony hit that spot. Perhaps it was because of the way she was bent over, or the size of his cock, or the angle of his entry. At any rate, Jessica was unprepared. Again and again her son's big cock sent shocks of pleasure and juices through her. Each contact felt like a small orgasm as her insides convulsed in response to his insistent thrusting. His hands were all over her and when he grabbed her hair as his own moment approached, she let go with a yell. The orgasm rippled and waved from her pussy to every inch of her body. She didn't know that a person could come like that. Anthony fired off one shot of cum after another into his mother's pussy. If the feelings weren't so intense, the loud sounds and frantic movements coming from his mother would have distracted him. She kept calling his name, and she kept coming. Jessica finally caught her breath and felt more fear and confusion in that one moment that she could handle. She looked at herself in the mirror and her eyes filled with tears. Her swollen breasts were exposed and her son was absently holding one as he leaned on her back in relief. The dark eyeliner she had put on for him was beginning to smear as her tears ran through it. He put his arms around her from behind and said, "Don't cry mom...it was natural that we wanted to...there's nothing to be ashamed of..." Her crying became audible. "Oh mom, now I feel like it was all my fault...I'm sorry..." "All your fault?" The words were fighting her sniffles and sobs. "No, no...it was all my fault...and there's nothing natural about what I just did. I'm your mother and I let you...no, I made you do it...oh God, you're my son and you came inside me...I can feel it...I can feel it." "I'm sorry mom, I thought it was okay because I know you take the pill...I wouldn't have..." "NO...you don't understand, it's not about the pill...you're my son...and I made you come in me...and I came...and..." Her body was shaking as she covered herself and ran to her bedroom and closed the door. The bedroom was not where she wanted to be. She wanted to be anywhere else in the world but near her son, whom she was ashamed to face. Tony stood by his mother's door and heard her muffled crying. He knocked gently and when she didn't answer, he slowly opened the door. He sat by her on the bed and stroked her back as she cried. He didn't know what to say, and so he let her cry until she had shed all the tears that needed shedding. Finally she turned to him and said, "I am so ashamed...I'm so sorry baby..." "Mom, I thought it felt good to you...didn't you want to...?" "Yes Anthony, I wanted to, and yes it felt...oh God...just because I wanted to, doesn't mean I should have. Anthony, I seduced my own son..." She wiped the wetness on her face and saw the smeared remnants of her makeup on her hands. "She shook her head and said, "I must look a mess." "You can't look anything but beautiful to me mom," he said. "Oh honey, please don't say things like that to me...I..." she dissolved into tears again and she waived him away. He didn't know what else to do, so he left. They didn't go out that night or any other night to celebrate Jessica's birthday. Jessica felt as if she would never have anything to celebrate again. She avoided her son and wouldn't talk to him about that night. She couldn't even tell Rosemary. Things didn't get better for weeks until Jessica made her decision and put things in motion. She then told Anthony, "Honey I'm going to stay with Aunt Roe...and see if it works out." "See if what works out, mom?" "Well, if I like it out there...and then maybe I'll get my own place to stay. Anthony, Emco has an office there and I got a transfer." "You mean for good?" "Well..." "So you mean you're leaving, and not coming home...it's because of what happened isn't it, and now you don't want to know me anymore...?" "Anthony, that's not true...of course we'll see each other, I'll come home and you'll come there...I'm always going to love you Anthony." "Then why are you going?" Anthony's thoughts were becoming liquid. Sure he wanted to have sex with her some more, but his unease was about more than that. "Honey, it's just something I have to do right now...you'll be fine, you have a new job and I'll take care of the apartment rent, and...it'll be okay." The night before Jessica was scheduled to leave, and they had said 'Good night' with a long hug, Anthony knocked on his mother's door. When he came in, Jessica was under the sheet, holding it up to her chin. He sat down beside her, and after an uncomfortable pause, he said, "Mom, I'm going to miss you." "And I'm going to miss you too sweetheart, but we'll be seeing each other soon and ..." He put his head down on her belly and she was touched by the unusual show of affection. Jessica stroked her son's hair for a while and he turned his head and kissed her abdomen. He could smell her fragrance and he slowly kissed lower toward her pubic mound. Jessica breathed heavier and said, "Oh Anthony, you shouldn't." A million thoughts raced through her mind as her son pressed the sheet onto her vaginal lips with his lips. The thrill was coursing through her body when he drew the sheet down and kissed over her clit. She felt helpless in the throes of her desire as he lifted the silky material and took her into his mouth. She told herself "I'm leaving tomorrow, it's never going to happen again," as she let her son suck on her pussy. Anthony knew she wouldn't let him inside her, but his hard-on was almost painful as it pressed in his pants. He took them off while continuing to attend to the thickening lips and nub that was under the probing movements of his tongue. As he sucked her, Jessica felt as if the pressure that was building would lead her to gush into her son's mouth. She couldn't take it and she moved his hips so she could get to his cock. The young man straddled his mother, and as he licked and sucked on her clit, she took some of his thick flesh into her mouth. He could hear how hard she was breathing as she struggled with the mass in her mouth. She was writhing with pleasure under his arousing attention. He could feel her quivering as he sensed the approach of her orgasm. She was sucking him hard as she began to arch up into his mouth. Whenever he felt her rise, he stopped before she crested. Whenever he stopped, she let out a sigh and returned to pleasuring the big shaft that was before her. After a torturous number of approaches, Jessica went over. When Anthony realized she had begun her orgasm, he drew hard on her clit and lashed it with his tongue. His mother let out a howl that lasted as long as she continued coming. When she was done, she said with a cry in her voice, "Oh, oh, oh, oh." She then grabbed her son's cock and bobbed hard on as much of it as would fit into her mouth. It didn't take long for the young man to be overwhelmed by his mother's sucking. It didn't take long before he was telling her, "I'm coming mom, I'm coming, OH I'm coming, I'm coming" It didn't take long for him to fill his mother's mouth to overflowing with creamy white fluid. Anthony kissed his mother's thighs when they were both done and he felt her turning. He got off the bed and her back was to him. He said, "Mom..." and she raised her hand and he knew she didn't want to talk. The weight of guilt and shame fell on her as he left the room and the only thing that brought Jessica solace, was that she knew she had made the right decision. She had to go away to get away from the desire she wasn't strong enough to resist. The next morning, she wouldn't let Anthony take her to the airport as they had planned. As the cab waited, he asked when she would come to visit. "Maybe three or four weeks," she answered as she touched his cheek and gave him a sad smile. Three or four weeks turned into three or four months and after one agonizingly uncomfortable trip to her, Anthony became resigned to their separation. The sex they had shared became a memory that he could take out for pleasure, but it became somehow separated from the relationship that began to evolve between mother and son. As time passed, she called more, he wrote more, and they were in touch every few days as months turned to years. Their visits were not physical, but warm and loving. He began missing her even before they parted. Seeing his mother so infrequently whetted his appetite for her. He was still attracted to her body, but he missed the person more. So when she called and said she had good news, he was excited. "I'm getting married," she told him. It was like a punch in the stomach. Yes, he knew that Paul had been out to see her regularly and that she had been seeing him, and yes he knew they had moved in together, but married? Too much of him didn't want it to be so. "Things happen for a reason," his mother had always told him. His saw no reason in any of it. He went to the wedding, acted pleased, and went home full of dreadful unease. Shame Seeing this girl or that didn't help much. Having one of them move in made it worse. He wasn't nice to her because she wasn't the person she couldn't be. He thought it odd, but he had no alternative, he accepted the fact that a good part of the lust he had felt for his mother had turned to love. He'd fallen in love with his mother. It took him a year before he told anyone. When he did say something, it was to Rosemary. "Aunt Roe, I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I miss mom so much, I can't do anything except think about it all the time." "Oh honey, I'm sorry. Why don't you come and stay with me for a while so you'll get to see her more?" "No, it would only make it worse. You know Aunt Roe, from when I was a kid, I've always been able to talk to you and I always knew you'd be on my side, so I'm going to tell you something. I...I love mom...and I...oh, forget it, it doesn't matter, I'm just babbling." "Anthony honey...I know what happened between you and your mom... she told me...you can talk to me, are you upset about that now?" "No, I'm upset that she's married, I'm upset that she doesn't love me the way she used to, I'm upset that she's with Paul when I want...oh what the hell does it all matter anyhow?" "Oh Anthony, I hate to see you both like this." "What do you mean Aunt Roe?" "I shouldn't say anything, but you're all she still talks about with me, she's not happy, and I don't think she's going to stay with Paul. But she thinks you've moved on and...I don't know what I think about this whole mess, but maybe you should talk to her...and don't say you heard anything from me...I don't know what the hell I'm doing..." "Thanks Aunt Roe, I love you." "I love you too Anthony...lord help me." He laughed and dialed Jessica's number. She wasn't in and he didn't leave a message. He spent five agonizing hours pacing, and calling, and rehearsing, until she finally got home. "Mom? Listen, I never stopped thinking about you and about us." "Anthony...why are you...?" "Mom, no more of that stuff, let's talk straight, please mom, it's been almost four years. Isn't that long enough to be unhappy? Come home mom. Come home to me." For Jessica, it was the release of floodwaters. Her tears poured down and her heart rose. "Yes baby, yes. I'll take care of some things here and I'll be there in a week." It was four days later when Anthony found the note on the apartment door. It said, "Hello baby, come in." When he entered the apartment, there was a note over the light switch with an arrow pointing left, it said, "Come to me." He followed it to the paper hanging off the lamp that read, "You're almost home." It led him to his closed bedroom door and the note said, "Yes, my love." Anthony opened the door to the sight of his mother applying the finishing touch to her red lips. The black gauzy covering she wore was sheer enough to show her nipples and the fact that she had shaved her pussy. She was smiling at him. "Four years..." He shook his head, "I can't believe you're really here." "I'm here baby," she said. "And I'm going to stay here. I know I've wasted a lot of time baby...I'm sorry" "I'm happy you're here mom, but are you sure...are you?" "Yes darling, more sure than of anything before in my life." Anthony's throat felt sore as he dredged his words. "Mom, it was so hard...missing you." "I know baby, I'm so sorry, it hurt me every day I was away from you. I tried to run away from you, and from the situation, and from myself. But I'm not running anymore. This is who I am, and this is who we are, and I know that this is right for me now. I'm glad I love you like this, and I'm praying that you'll still love me back. Please forgive me sweetheart and I promise I'll make up for it." "There's nothing to forgive mom...you're here now and I'll always love you back." His attention moved from the hurt he had felt to the sight of the forty two year old woman's body before him. There was nothing about it that betrayed her age. Her full breasts and slim waist were as striking as when she was ten years younger. The next thing he said was, "Mom, I want to look at you before I make love to you." She slipped off the covering and stood in her heels and stockings. Anthony could feel his cock thicken, harden, and rise, in anticipation of his mother's body. He said, "Mom, I am going to make love to you, and I'm going do everything any man has done to his lover, and any husband has ever done to his wife, and any son ever wanted to do to his mother." "Yes baby," she said, "That's what I want you to do." They kissed longingly, almost painfully, pressing their lips, and tongues, and mouths, against each other's. Her pussy was wet for her son before he touched her. He took one her large breasts in his hand and brought the nipple to his lips. He sucked and drew on it, as it elongated and swelled in his mouth. He urged her to the bed and when was before him with her legs opened to receive him, he went down on the smooth pussy that she had shaved for him. He liked the way it looked and the clean tender skin felt good in his mouth. He lapped her and licked her and in an instant she came with a short, piercing, surprised cry. He licked her some more and before long, she was ready again, ready to take the one cock she ached for into her pussy. And hers was the pussy he ached for. That was the difference for him now. It was no longer just the sex he had craved as an adolescent, it was now the love he needed as a man. The anticipation was sweet for both of them. Jessica lifted her legs and with her fingers she opened the soft lips of her pussy exposing the tender flesh. Her eyes were closed and a hint of a smile played on her lips. Anthony entered his mother, and the gratification he felt was far beyond the physical, and it was far beyond what he had found with any other woman. Velvet in velvet, he stroked deeply as his full erection stretched and spread his mother's pussy. The feeling was as strong as if he hadn't sex since she left. He felt the full pleasure of each inch as he delved into his mother's center. Jessica accepted each stroke of her son into her with love and lust, as his lover and his mother, proud to be both. When he was inside her, he filled more than just her opening; he completed her. As the young man stroked and filled his mother's pussy with powerful thrusts, it now brought her pleasure to think, "It's Anthony's cock inside me, it's my son who's fucking me and loving me." Each of his entries were liberating to her. And what had so distressed her before, she now eagerly anticipated, her son's seed inside her. She ached for the feel of him coming inside of her. She grabbed his ass and pulled him into her holding him so that the full width and length of his erection stayed inside her. It was almost unbearable not to move and she began gyrating slowly, grinding on the large cock her son had pushed to her limit. When she couldn't stand waiting anymore, Jessica urged her son on, "Do it baby, do it." He stroked his full length, long and slow. "Give it to me Anthony, give me what I need love, hard Anthony, hard." He gave her what she wanted as much as he wanted to give it to her, fast, hard insertions that stopped only when they reached the end of his mother's pussy. She thrashed and grunted as the vigor of his youth kept him going in and out of her until they were both soaked from the heat of their passion. Because of his size, her pussy held him tightly and she felt every inch of him as he explored her depths. When Jessica reached the edge, she implored her son, "Come inside me love, come, come with me baby, now, now, now." He balanced on both palms and gave his mother the rapid insertions that brought him to the point of release. "Mom, I'm coming, I'm coming inside you, yes...OH...OH..." He let go and a torrent of cum fired into the depths of his mother's pussy. Her son's hard discharges intensified her own orgasm. "Yes baby," she said. "I can feel you coming inside me, yes baby, yes. Come in me fill me..." With each embedding of her son's cock, Jessica's pussy stretched to hold and draw the seed that she now saw as his love. "Yes baby," she said, fill me with your love." As the pace finally slowed and they held each other, they were both laughing with the joyous release their orgasms brought. Jessica said with a smile, "I can't imagine anything better than that." Anthony kissed his mother and said, "Maybe not mom, but we're sure going to try." The pleasure in that moment came from knowing that his mother's love was his as much as her pussy was his. They stayed in bed a long while in a serene state until the feel of his mother's skin against him began to stimulate the young man. She asked him for a drink and when he returned, he saw his naked mother sitting on her haunches. Jessica drank a bit of the juice he'd brought and she looked up with a loving smile as her son reached for one of her big tits and massaged it through his fingers. She took hold of his cock and opened her mouth wide to encircle the bulbous head with her lips. She sucked on it a few times compressing the spongy mass with her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Her son's cock felt huge in her mouth. As the loving mother began taking some of the shaft toward her throat, she moved steadily and slowly back and forth along the thick mass as mother and son's moans mingled in the air. Anthony went up quickly and when he felt his orgasm approaching, he began pulling back. Jessica held his hips as she was sucking him. She felt free knowing she could accept her desires, that she was a mother who wanted her son to come in her mouth. The sounds she made let him know she didn't want him to pull out. All he could was hold it for a few seconds as she sucked harder and moved her lips along the thick shaft. It was excruciating for the young man to come in his mother's mouth. A long "Ohhhhh..." that was more like a howl escaped his lips as she kept sucking the creamy ejaculate out of him. His mother sucked him as if he could never come enough for her. He was spent and exhausted when he collapsed into the arms that welcomed him, and stroked him, and loved him. They lay together for a while as he gathered strength. He said, "Mom, are you here for good now?" "Sweetheart," she said, "I'm here for good, and for bad, and forever...and if things were different, I would make you marry me...if you wanted me. Would you want to marry me baby?" He put his lips to her lips, barely touching them and said, "Yes, mom." He kept saying it as his tongue teased and his lips brushed her mouth. "Sweet love," she said, "I'm going to be as good as any wife could be to you and as good as any lover could be...and as good as any mother could be, and even better." Jessica could feel his quick recuperation when she gently let her hand glide over his cock and balls. He became erect as she kissed around his cock and on his shaft. She stopped and looked up at him and then asked him the question she had asked Paul those many years before, "Love, do you have fantasies you've never told anyone, like I do?" "Of course mom...they're all about you. I've had them since I realized how sexy you are and I had more of them when I realized how much I loved you, and they became beautiful when I realized how much you love me." Her eyes brightened with excitement. "Yes Tony, tell me about how much I love you." "You love me enough to give me your heart and your body, don't you mom?" "Yes I do baby." "You love me enough to take me in your mouth and suck me until I come, don't you mom?" He put his finger on her lips and she sucked on it and she said, "Yes I do love." "You love me enough to open your legs and give me your pussy, don't you mom?" He licked her there a few times and she said, "Yes, Yes, I do." He turned her over and put a finger on her anus and said, "You love me enough to take me in your ass, don't you mom?" "Yes baby, yes I do." She thought he would finger her at first, but when he came behind her with his cock in his hand, she realized she would be getting more than just her son's finger. The thought of his big cock in her ass terrified and thrilled her. She said, "Yes baby, in my ass, put it in my ass, let momma take you in her ass." He took some juice from her pussy and spit on his hand. He put the fluid on his tip and shaft and approached her small hole. As soon as he tried to push past her tight ring and heard the sound she made through her clenched teeth, he knew it wouldn't work. He pulled back and told her, "Stay right there mom, don't move." She remained on her elbows and knees and when came back with his cock slathered in lubricant, he just looked at her. Her face showed her pleasure in pleasing him and her ass was opened for him while her big breasts hung heavily toward the bed. He said, "Mom, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." This time his cock made it past her ring. She was glad it was her son who was the only man to penetrate here there. She grunted as the big cock began filling her narrow channel, but with each inch that stretched her, she knew how much she loved him. Each insertion the young man embedded into her yielding hole told him, "This is how much your mother loves you." He stroked slowly and evenly as his well greased shaft spread and massaged the walls of his mother's tight passageway. Skin against skin, the friction stimulated then both. Contrary to her expectations, the intense heat and friction of her son inside her ass sent bolts of pleasure through her. All of the older woman's experience came in to play as she worked her body to accommodate her son's big cock. He was almost overwhelming her with the power and strength of his insertions, but she instinctively knew she had to stay relaxed if she wanted him to be able to take her in that way. He asked her, "Is it okay mom?" "Yes baby, it's good; I like feeling you inside me this way." He filled his mother's ass time and again with his massive swollen shaft and each time he filled her, she opened herself for more. She asked him for assurance that it was truly pleasuring him. "Am I good for you baby, is mama as good for you as your other girls?" "Yes mom, yes, and there are no more other girls, there's only you. I always wanted it to be you, I never took another woman like this mom, you're my first and my last. I always wanted it to be you, your ass mom, I only wanted to do it with you." He lifted himself on to one knee and in his excitement he angled his cock deeper and harder into his mother's ass. "This is how I wanted to you to love me mom, with all of you, taking all of me." Each stroke into his mother's ass took him higher and with each stroke she could feel his vow of love. As he went deep into his mother's ass and she accepted the full length and mass of her son's cock, Anthony, for the first time, experienced the perfection of a woman's body. And it wasn't because her body was perfect; it was because it was perfect for him. Just as she had said, "I do," to his questions, when she asked if he wanted her forever, he said, "I do." There was no age difference as Anthony and Jessica's body joined. There was no shame as their two hearts joined. There was no mother, no son, and no taboo. There was only what they would always share, love. Shame This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. THIS WORK CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL, INCLUDING EXPLICIT SEXUALITY. IF SUCH MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER. ******************************************* IN A RECENT EMAIL, I was asked if I'd ever met a 'real' female through an Internet service. Frankly, it's something I've never really given much thought. But the question, innocently asked and truthfully answered, brought back the memories, fresh and vivid as though it was just yesterday. Her name is Madhavi. It's a common enough name and I don't suppose there's any harm using it, since I'm not about to divulge anything more specific about her. She was 32 or so at the time, divorced and living alone in a one-bedroom apartment in one of Bombay's northern suburbs. Her marriage ended, she later told me, the very first night. She wouldn't talk about it, but I got the sense the guy was not just totally twisted, but incapable, too. Perhaps one had something to do with the other, I didn't know and it didn't matter; I didn't ask further. They separated in two days and divorced as soon as the law allowed. She left the city for a few months till the mess sorted itself out and then returned, joined an accountancy firm, got herself a small apartment in the suburbs with the money from the divorce settlement. A little later she got a computer, discovered the Internet and, soon enough, its darker side. That's how we met. I found her personal ad on one of the groups or clubs, I forget which. It said she was a single lady interested in a one-on-one relationship with a man, starting with an exploration of mutual likes and dislikes over the Net. I don't know what drew me to that post. Perhaps it was just her name, which I like very much. Anyway, I wrote to her and we started an email correspondence, hesitantly at first on both sides, and then with increasing candour. Her ad had generated a flood of mail and she was fighting off some really aggressive men. I took a different line, perhaps that's why it worked out for us. I didn't ask her for her real name, address, telephone number, didn't doubt her sincerity, didn't ask to meet, and always asked if I could unburden myself before doing so. I told her about myself without hesitation. I'm 37, unmarried, Bombay-based with my own consulting firm. We're small but well-regarded and business has been good for some time now so I'm financially quite secure. I live alone in a spacious apartment I inherited from my parents, in an upmarket neighbourhood in south Bombay, at least a couple of hours' drive from her place. I'm quite conservative in my lifestyle, nothing flashy, no wild times with women. There are a couple of ladies I see regularly but these are casual, no-strings affairs. I enjoy my solitude. I told her all this. It seemed to draw her out. We got into the chat rooms and on the instant messengers a couple of hours a week. She told me about her childhood in a small town outside Bombay, her family-- that she has a younger brother in college, that her father runs a small business--and hinted, briefly, at her ended marriage. I told her I was sorry she'd been through such a bad time and left it at that. A few days later she asked if she could talk more freely. I asked if she wanted to do this by email or on an instant messenger. She surprised me by saying she couldn't do it except in person, not even over the telephone. I surprised myself by baulking. That seemed to frighten her and I hastened to assure her that I was just surprised, that this was unexpected. I felt her starting to retreat hastily and I knew I didn't want to lose the chance. I hurried to make amends and agreed to meet with her. I could sense her nervousness and suggested we meet in a public place at first, perhaps for lunch or dinner. She suggested dinner the following week at a place sort of midway between our houses, and then gave me her phone number, and asked for mine. For a couple of days after that there was a silence, no email, chat, phones. Finally, I put aside my trepidation and called the number she'd given me. She had a lovely voice, low and soft with a hint of full-throated laughter in it, and a gentle, calm quality. The conversation was awkward and stilted till I took the plunge. I told her how much I was looking forward to the meeting and I heard her suck in her breath, then heard the smile in her voice when she said she was excited, too. We spoke daily after that, our excitement mounting. The day we were to meet, I left work early, got home, showered, shaved again, dressed carefully. I keep myself in pretty good shape, work out at the gym three times a week, run six kilometres every other day, regularly swim and play squash at the club. My body's fit and hard and I like to keep it that way. I hate putting on weight. I set out through the mind-numbing traffic. It took me a good two hours to get there. I'd called ahead to make a reservation and, luckily, got there before her. I gave the steward my name and he led me to a decent table by a window in a sort of alcove. I was glad for that little privacy. Madhavi came in five minutes later and was led to the table. I rose to greet her and I remember that my heart skipped a beat and I felt a stab of nervousness again. She was--is--very pretty. She wasn't very tall, about five foot five, with a smooth, dusky complexion. Her hair was dark, silky, drawn back in a ponytail that hung to the middle of her back and held by a simple cotton band. Her face was sweetly rounded, with a firm chin and a lovely soft- lipped mouth. There were a few small dark beauty spots on one cheek and at her throat, something I found instantly enticing. Her eyes were large and dark, lined with eye-black and alive and dancing. She smiled and it was a lovely, genuine, warm smile that reached her eyes. I noticed that one of her side teeth was slightly crooked, another thing I found attractive. Her body looked trim, nicely curved without being voluptuous. She seemed to have nice, full, high breasts and a decent figure. She wore a simple churidar and kurta in off-white, the kurta with a high mandarin collar. I saw a glint of a gold necklace under it. Her fingers were soft and slim in mine and I noticed she wore a gold bangle on one wrist, a gold and diamond ring that matched her earrings. Her left nostril was pierced with a small gold stud. Our table had one of those banquettes, a semi-circular sofa instead of chairs and we sat by each other. We ordered our drinks, a beer for me, a fruity non-alcoholic cocktail for her. When the steward came around for our orders, she told me she was a vegetarian and left the ordering to me. I kept it a simple vegetarian meal and she nodded approval. The conversation was innocuous and totally forgettable, idle chitchat, both of us skirting around the real purpose of our meeting. Slowly, we relaxed, getting more comfortable with each other. When I asked her if she was nervous she grinned and said yes, wasn't I? I had to laugh and I found myself drowning in those warm eyes. We had a second round of drinks, then the food came. We ate slowly, taking our time. The coffee came and with it a little silence. "I really need to talk to you." Her voice was very soft. "Sure," I said. "Anytime." "Not here. It's too public. Somewhere private." I looked at her and asked her if she was sure. She looked down at her cup, nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "I'm sure. I don't know why, but I feel I can trust you." "Thank you," I said quietly and wondered why my pulse was skittering like an infatuated schoolboy's. The steward came and asked if there would be anything else. I looked at Madhavi and she shook her head. I asked for the bill and paid it. She thanked me politely as I did so, I said she was welcome and we stepped out. The night was cool and pleasant, Bombay's so-called winter already in the air. I knew she didn't have a car and, without asking, led her to where I'd parked. Her house was not ten minutes away, in a huge, terrifically ugly complex of tall concrete matchboxes, about ten of them clustered around a large open space with a lawn, kiddie's playground and parking space. Her tower was set back from the road. I pulled into the visitor's lot and killed the engine. She didn't open her door immediately. "Would you like a coffee? Can you come in?" She wasn't looking at me. I said I'd be happy to and we got out and rode up to her eleventh floor apartment. There were many apartments to each floor and we walked down a long corridor to her door. She let us in. Her apartment surprised me. It was just one bedroom with an attached bath, a small kitchen, an open space that served as a foyer, living room and dining room all in one. But it was superbly done, with an impeccable eye for space and light and colour. She'd kept the furniture low and the colours light so it looked a lot larger than it really was. There was a small glass-topped dining table with four chairs, a pair of light cane armchairs with plump cushions and a wide low divan in the living area. Opposite the front door, the living room opened out through folding doors into a long balcony that gave an unparalleled view across the surviving mangroves to the sea beyond. The lighting was subdued and subtle with great warmth. Her upholstery was in subtle pastels with splashes of colour from cushions and a throw rug. The bedroom held a large, low bed, two closets and a compact dressing table. "Milk and sugar?" she asked. "Black, if it's not a problem." "No problem," Madhavi said, going into the kitchen. "I'm afraid it's instant." "That's fine." I heard her in the kitchen as I wandered out to the balcony, trying to get the night to cool the flush in my body. There was a small wrought iron table and chair on the deck. "This is a lovely place," I said. "Yes, I got lucky," she answered from the kitchen. "My father got it for me." "Yes, you mentioned that." "See, the builder owed him some money, so he just adjusted the loan against the place and gave us first choice. I saw many of the places and liked this the best. It's small, but it does for me." "It's perfect, and you've done it very well." "Thanks. She came out with a small wooden tray and two mugs of coffee, handed me mine. "Okay?" "Fine," I said, sipping it. She smiled and again I felt bewitched by those eyes, by that smile. "It's probably the size of your bathroom," she giggled. I grinned. "Something like that. I was lucky too. Inherited the place." She joined me at the balcony and leaned on the slender flat rail, looking out at the distant white caps of the sea. "I like the view and the breeze," she murmured. "I often sleep with the doors open like this." "It's wonderful," I said. "No noise and you can actually hear the sea." "That's what I love." She was very close to me and I could smell her perfume, a low, lemony, curiously enticing aroma. She took a step back and I turned around, leaned my elbows on the rail, enjoying the loveliness of her face. "So what do you think?" she asked. "About what?" "Meeting me in person. After all those months on email. Am I what you expected?" "I didn't expect anything, Madhavi." She smiled, tilted her head to one side. "I did," she said. "And you're everything I expected and more." I felt embarrassed, muttered a thanks and she grinned, mischief in her eyes. "Do you find me attractive?" This was it. The moment of truth. I reached up and put my hand against her cheek. "Yes," I said softly. "I do. I find you very beautiful and lovely and attractive and sexy." "All of that?" she laughed again, softly. "Yes. All of that." The smile went away and she took my coffee mug and set it on the table and stepped closer to me. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Her head bent and then we kissed and it was incredible. Her lips were soft and moist and warm and the kiss was gentle and long and undemanding. We stopped, then kissed again and this time the longing and desire was more apparent and I felt her tongue coming between my lips, her warm body pressing against mine. I could feel the weight of her breasts on my chest. The fires erupted and we stumbled into the living room, knocking over an armchair, finding the divan, tearing at each other's clothes, kissing feverishly. Her body was lovely, the breasts as I had imagined them, full and high and round with lovely long nipples which were already hard. Her belly was firm, slightly curved. Her limbs were smooth and slim and she had a nice sexy butt. Her skin was smooth and silky and firm. She wore a gold necklace. My cock was bursting, throbbing and hot and when her fingers curled around it, I gasped and cried out. She was wet and ready and I entered her quickly and when I did she arched hard under me, her mouth opening wide. Her cunt was hot and wet and very tight and it squeezed down tight on my cock. I sucked on her breasts, and she gasped, kissing me, going "Yes, oh yes, yes," as I began to fuck her quickly and hard, thrusting my cock deeply in and out of her body. There was a wild hunger in both of us and we couldn't get enough of each other. She moved with me, moving her hips up and down under mine, moaning and gasping in pleasure. The heat and fever was devouring us. I moved faster and faster and then I stopped and she cried out and clung to me, tried to bring me back inside her but I resisted and, instead, split her thighs open and pushed my face into her groin. Her pussy hair was nicely trimmed and her lips were open and wet and when I pushed my tongue into her Madhavi moaned and hissed and put her hands on her breasts. I tongue-fucked her for a long time enjoying the taste of her juices till she had enough and pushed my head away. She made me sit up on the sofa and came over me, kissing me, then moving down to my lap and took my cock in her mouth. It was fantastic. In the weeks ahead I was to discover just how much she loved oral sex and how good she was at it. But this was my first experience with her and it was a revelation. Her mouth was warm and wet and she used her tongue like a snake. She kept switching between an intense sucking pressure to a lighter, licking touch, a kiss on the head of my tool, caressing her face and breasts with it, then going back o sucking again. I watched her sucking me off and there was no doubt that it was turning her on because she was caressing her breasts sexily, squeezing them and tugging at her nipples. I saw her move her hand between her legs and she began to masturbate herself gently. It was one of the sexiest things to see. This was a totally different Madhavi from the one I'd met for dinner and earlier on email. The hesitant, gentle, quiet woman was gone and, instead, she was now like a wild, starved animal, with a ferocious, burning sexual desire. She totally uninhibited. When I pushed her head away from my cock at last, she stood up and took my hand and pulled me to my feet. We kissed again and when our bodies pressed together I could feel her wetness. She stepped back to the glass dining table and lay down on her back on it. Without asking, she spread her legs wide for me. Standing between her open thighs, I pushed my cock slowly into her pussy again and gasped at her heat and tightness. I started fucking her again, keeping her thighs open in my hands. She moaned loudly when I entered her and her eyes closed and her hands went up to her breasts. I fucked her slowly, pushing my cock in and out of her cunt, going in as deep as I could. Her body jerked with my deep thrusts. Gradually, I began to move faster and faster and she began to cry out with sharp little gasps and moans and her tits jiggled and bounced. This time, it was she who made me slow down after a while. She got off the table and we stumbled through her little house to the bedroom, knocking things over as we went, kissing and fondling each other. She wanted to suck me again, and I let her have her way. I gasped and called out my pleasure and excitement when she went down on her knees on the floor and took my cock in her mouth. She sucked my cock hard and I could hear her groaning softly. She lifted and squeezed her breasts as she sucked me. A while later, I pushed her head back and moved her to the bed where we rolled over into a 69 with her on top and yet again I licked and lapped at her streaming, juicy slit while she took my cock deep in her mouth. When she was ready, she turned on her front and lifted her body up. I understood and knelt behind her and slowly pushed my cock into her cunt. She cried out in pleasure and lifted her head and I kissed her and squeezed her breasts. Her cunt was squeezing madly on my cock. I began fucking her slowly with long and deep thrusts, pushing my cock in as far as I could. She moaned softly and moved beneath my body. I began to move faster till I was fucking her with quick thrusts and her cries had become loud and shrill. Her cunt tightened on my cock and I sensed her orgasm. Her body shook and trembled with ecstasy joy under mine. I kept on thrusting into her till I couldn't bear it any more. I thrust into her hard again and again and then, with a loud moan, spent myself inside her. We lay together for a little while and I thought she had fallen asleep. I wondered if I should stay or go. I didn't know what she wanted. Her body was half across mine and I couldn't slip out of bed without waking her up, so I lay there, thinking about her and how wonderful the sex with her had been. She stirred in my arms and I felt her lips on my cheek and her fingers traced sensual patterns on my chest. "Thank you," she whispered. "I enjoyed that very much." "So did I," I told her and we kissed again and this time it was long and gentle. "I should go," I said after a while, and it was meant as a question. "No, please stay," she answered in a tender voice. "I want you to stay." A little later, we went out into the hall again. She had put on a long shirt with the top three or four buttons open but wore nothing under it. She looked very sexy. I was wearing only my trousers. She went into the kitchen to make fresh coffee and I stood at the door and watched her. She was humming to herself. She gave me a mug and brought her own mug out into the hall. We sat down on the divan where a little while ago we had been wildly making love. She moved closer to me and put her head on my shoulder. I reminded her that she had said she wanted to talk to me and asked if she felt like doing so now. For a little while she was silent and then she said yes in a soft voice and fell silent again. I did not hurry her. We finished our coffee and still I waited. And then, in a soft voice and without looking at me, she told me her story. II TODAY, I CANNOT RECALL her exact words but what she told me is still vivid in my memory. She came from a small town to the south where she grew up in a large family of cousins and relatives. She was one of the few girls in the family encouraged to study and make a career for themselves and that was mostly because of her father, who treated his son and daughter equally. As a result, she enjoyed more freedom than other girls or her female cousins and after finishing school, she took admission to a college in a city about midway between her home town and Bombay. She enjoyed college and made many friends. She also had her first sexual experience there with another college student. She enjoyed the sex but it was nothing incredible and she did it, she said, principally because there was peer-group pressure. But her boyfriend was kind and experienced enough and he taught her how to enjoy sex. They dated for two or three years and Madhavi was sure she was in love with him and wanted to marry him. Shame But they came from different communities and castes and both of them were pressured by their families who had learned of the relationship. They were forced to break up. It was heartbreaking and it affected her grades. Somehow she managed to get through. It was more difficult because both of them were still in the same college. Back home, even her father could not resist social pressures indefinitely. Before long, he agreed with the family elders that, after finishing college, a suitable bridegroom would be found for her. Madhavi wanted to continue studying accountancy. There were arguments at home, till, finally, her father gave in and compromised: she would be married to a groom of the family's choice immediately after she obtained her license to practice. That gave Madhavi a couple of more years. She went back to the city where she got an internship with an accountancy firm and a place to stay in a working-women's hostel. By then, her boyfriend had left the city. It was a lonely life and though she had several friends she missed the emotional and physical aspects of her previous relationship with a man. Fortunately, she soon struck up a friendship with a young man in the firm, older than her, but unmarried. It started as a casual friendship and progressed to dating. She did not tell him about her previous affair and feared that if she did, or admitted that she was now hungering for sex, he would break off the relationship. When he asked her to sleep with him, she only pretended to resist but quickly gave in. That first night with him was, she said, positively exhilarating. Her new lover was older than her and had his own little flat so they enjoyed privacy. Madhavi would stay over at his place sometimes and most weekends. She felt happy and secure and began to feel the woman of the house, enjoying looking after it. She never told him of her boyfriend in college, but simply enjoyed his company, friendship and the sex. She was discrete, too, about her present relationship; there would be trouble in her family if she was known to have a second affair before the brouhaha over the first one had died down. Yet, she was sure she was not in love with the young man and did not pressurize him for a commitment. A few months before her final examinations she took leave from the firm to study and quietly moved into his house. He helped her with the course work and, after dinner, they went to bed together, having sex several times a week. The examinations came and went. Madhavi did well and was already one of the top candidates for recruitment into a major firm. But the dreaded time had come and she had to keep her promise to her family. She explained this to her lover. He was bitterly unhappy and she realized, with horror, that he was madly in love with her. He offered to marry her but she knew there would be the same trouble as before and, weeping, forced herself to say no. Their parting was intense and painful: she cried in his arms on the last night and they made love all night long. The next day she left the city and went home. Her family had found her a groom. She was introduced to him soon after she returned. He came for a respected and well-to-do family which had a flourishing business in the town. He had a college degree and was now running the family business. Physically, he wasn't unattractive either and Madhavi began to reconcile herself to a life with him. Perhaps, she reasoned, he'd at least be good enough in bed. The horoscopes were matched and the marriage arranged in a few weeks. Madhavi got busy with the preparations for the marriage and spent her last few weeks of freedom with her old school friends and cousins. From the time she left the city, she had no lover till the wedding. The truth about her bridegroom emerged only on the wedding night. There was no indication beforehand of the horror that lay in store. As she spoke of this, Madhavi's voice became soft and then began to shake and she started crying. I held her to my side as she spoke. She had no warning at all. In the traditional manner, she waited in the bridal chamber in all her wedding finery for her new bridegroom. The nuptial bed was lavishly decorated and strewn with rose petals and the room was fragrant with the scent of fresh jasmine. Madhavi had enjoyed the ceremonies and functions and felt curiously excited about this new chapter in her life. The door burst open. Her new husband charged in, and the nightmare began. He wasn't alone. He had brought four of his friends. He was drunk. Madhavi was terrified when she saw the men. She began to panic. The four guys leered at her lewdly. One of them locked the door. Her husband was holding a bottle of liquor and drinking straight from it. He told her to drink too and, when she refused, he grabbed her and forced the bottle to her mouth. The harsh liquor made her choke and retch. The men laughed loudly. Then the man she had just married ripped her brocade silk wedding sari from her shoulder and left her standing in just her blouse with the sari hanging around her waist. In full view of his mates he grabbed her breast and squeezed it hard, laughing, and ordered her to strip. She cried out and tried to struggle free. He slapped her hard across the face again and again, cutting her lip. He ripped open her blouse and tore off her bra so that now she was half-naked in front of them all. When she tried to cover herself he slapped her hands away and told her to behave herself and be quiet and not to raise an alarm or he would burn her with a cigarette. In any case, he said, everyone was out partying and there was no one around to help. Terrified, weeping, Madhavi backed into a corner. She knew what lay ahead. Her bridegroom grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the middle of the room and turned her around to face the other men, keeping her hands bent behind her so that her naked breasts were thrust out. He asked his mates if they liked his new slut. Madhavi was weeping in fear and shame, but he had her pinned and helpless. The man pulled off her sari, laughing while the other men cheered, till she was totally naked. He slapped her again when she tried to cover her pubis. There was nothing to be ashamed of, he said. These are my best friends. We have no secrets from each other. We share everything. We are brothers, like the Pandavas from the Mahabharata. Even they shared a wife. You are my Draupadi. And the pleasures of your body must now also be shared with my brothers. Then he threatened her, saying that it was her duty as his wife to satisfy him, to make him happy and to make sure his needs were met, and just now what would satisfy him and make him happy and meet his needs was for his friends to fuck her as long as they liked. The other guys were like animals. Already, they had begun to take off their clothes. She opened her mouth to scream and immediately her husband hit her again and held her tight and grabbed a cigarette from his friend and brought it so close to her nipple she could feel its heat. He warned her again not to scream or he really would burn her. Weeping helplessly now, she nodded in submission and he released her. He laughed in delight at that and offered her openly to his friends for their pleasure, standing behind her and lifting her breasts in his hands and asking his friends if they liked his new acquisition. Then he pushed her down to her knees in front of one of them and pushed her head forward into his crotch. Weeping and sobbing, she sucked the man's cock while he laughed and jeered at her, fucking her mouth and calling her a whore. Several minutes later, he shoved her head back and dragged her to the bed, flinging her on her back and jerking her legs open. She cried out when she felt him thrust hard into her. "That's right, now you can scream all you want," she heard her husband laugh. "Even if anyone hears you, which they won't, they'll just think how good I am in bed, right?" His mates cheered and clapped. The man kept fucking her harder and harder till he came. Immediately, there was another one to take his place, jumping on the bed, standing on it, feet apart and dragging her to her knees and making her suck his cock. Then he, too, started fucking her, this time from behind, turning her over on her front and ramming his cock into her cunt so deep and hard that she screamed in shock and pain. He kept at it, fucking her hard, slapping her buttocks and squeezing her breasts. This time, even before he was done, a third man joined in. "Hey man, let's fuck her together! I mean, we're all going to share, right? So what's with all this wait-your-turn shit, eh?" He jerked her head up and, for the first time in her life, Madhavi found herself being fucked by two men together. They took her hard till they were done and then the last man, the biggest of them all, with an impossibly big penis came forward. Madhavi looked at his cock in terror and begged and pleaded for mercy, asking them to let her go, to not hurt her, but they just laughed. "Baby, don't you worry none. My friend here knows how to pleasure a bitch. I'm gonna have you singing another tune, whore, before I'm done. You're just gonna love this! Come on! Give me some head! And suck good, bitch, this fellow likes to be worked hard and long, so suck hard!" The man sat up against the headboard and made her bend over his lap and suck him. All the while, he kept squeezing her breasts and kept up a conversation with the other men, as if she wasn't even there. After what seemed like an eternity, he pushed her head back. "Come on, slut, time for the pole dance. You're going for a little joyride now! Bareback! Come on, sit on my cock, bitch!" He pulled her astride him and made her impale herself on his massive penis and then forced her to move on her own over him while he sucked her breasts and fondled her body. Madhavi did as he commanded, unthinking, weeping and numb with fear and pain and shame. "Oh fuck man, look how much she likes it!" she heard her husband saying. "Just look how much the whore likes that big cock in her pussy! Fuck, this is so sexy! We've got to do this often!" "No sweat, chief, she's your wife, remember, you get to call the shots!" one of the others laughed. The man on the bed laughed, too, and then began moving faster, thrusting his hips furiously up and down, slamming his huge cock in and out of her cunt, slapping his thighs at her buttocks, making her scream and cry out and claw in agony at the sheets. Several minutes later, he pushed her off him and jerked her onto her front and began fucking her from behind. It just went on and on and on. The four men raped her on her wedding night, fucking her again and again, one after another. She was made to take their cocks in her mouth, in her cunt and even in her ass. They fucked her in pairs, one in her mouth, another in her cunt, swapping and changing places and taking turns. Then one of them had an idea and the three biggest of the lot took her together, in cunt and mouth and ass together, thrusting into her broken and trembling body, laughing at her pain. It was brutal, terrifying and utterly inhuman. And her bridegroom looked on and laughed in delight as his mates fucked his bride. Several hours later, they left her and lurched out to continue their revelries elsewhere. Madhavi was in shock, bleeding profusely with bruises all over her face and body. It was a miracle that she had survived at all and an even greater miracle that she managed to put on some clothes and escape from hers' house while everyone else was still asleep. Her own parents' house was not far away and she stumbled through the dark streets to it. Her mother, still weeping on her daughter's departure to a new house, opened the door to the panicked hammering. She saw her daughter and her state and collapsed in shock. Her father and brother came running. They understood at once what had happened even as Madhavi wept and wept in her mother's arms. Her father broke down and cried like a child and her brother picked up a big garden scythe and was about to rush out of the house when others stopped him. Finally somebody had the sense to rush her to hospital. The incident completely destroyed her father. He blamed himself for giving in to the family pressure and he blamed the family for their stupid code that had wrecked his daughter's happiness. He was in a towering rage and got violent when someone suggested that they should try and make peace and come to an 'understanding' for Madhavi to return with dignity to hers. "There is no 'dignity' left!" he shouted. "What is this 'dignity' you keep talking about? That bastard had his friends rape my daughter on her wedding night and you talk of dignity? Listen to me carefully, allow of you and I will say this only once: I would rather let my daughter became a whore in my own house than let her to go to his." Although the groom's family was wealthy and occupied a high social station Madhavi's father was unafraid. He went to the family lawyer. In the end, nothing came of it. The lawyer told them that under Indian law her groom could not be convicted of rape because they were married. The other four men could be indicted and her husband could be an accomplice. But she would have to undergo an examination at a government hospital and later she would have to face cross-examination in court when the matter of her previous affair in college was bound to be raked up and she would be accused of being immoral. Their lawyer would make her feel cheap in front of the whole courtroom. Her father was furious and swore vengeance. It took Madhavi many days to recover. For many weeks later, she did not stir out of her room. She lost weight and became pale and weak and wept constantly. She was in perpetual terror and fear. The psychological wounds ran deep. Her parents and brother shielded her from the outside world. Hers demanded her return and accused her of being unworthy and incapable of satisfying their precious son who was perfect in every way. They taunted her father and accused him of breaking his word and being faithless and demanded back all the gifts given at the wedding ceremony. They threatened to ruin him, his business and the family reputation. Madhavi's father did not yield. He threw the money and gifts back at them, which they never expected, told them to go to hell and try their worst. His daughter would not set foot in their house and nor would any member of his family. As to the matter of reputation, he retaliated in kind by assuring them that he would see to it that henceforth no man in the city would consent to his daughter marrying their son. He would expose them in public and in the press, he threatened, and, since his own family's reputation had been totally ruined, he had nothing to lose. The fighting went on for many weeks. The groom's family backed down when they realized how the whole town was looking down on them and their son. The family lawyer was able to persuade the groom's family's lawyer to agree to a divorce as soon as the law allowed it to happen. The groom's lawyer offered a cash settlement; her father told him never to make such an offer again. Madhavi recovered slowly but was never the same. Her parents worried endlessly. It was only her father who brought her back to a steady track by spending long hours with her, consoling her and talking to her, taking her out and slowly drawing her out of her shell. A full year went by and then it was he who suggested that she go to Bombay and take up her career again. Madhavi was still not ready for this and it took her many weeks to agree. Her father contacted a builder to whom he had lent money earlier and it was agreed that the loan could be repaid by taking a flat in a new building. Her parents and brother came with her to Bombay where they stayed with some relatives for a few weeks till the flat was made ready. In the meantime, her father called a friend who gave her a job in his small but prospering accountancy firm. Madhavi moved into the flat and for a few weeks they all stayed together. Her brother left to go back to college and then her father, too, had to return to attend to his business. Madhavi cried for hours after he went. Her mother stayed with her for a few months till Madhavi got fully settled. Slowly she found some inner reservoir of strength and from that she rebuilt her life. She threw herself into her work. She was good at it and the firm rewarded her work with hefty pay hikes and bonuses. She regained confidence and she found some happiness and, for the first time after longer than she could remember, she found herself able to laugh. She began to make friends at work. Her mother saw her recovery but waited till one day Madhavi gently asked her to go back to her father and look after him. "I'm okay now," she said. "Really, I'm fine." For a few months, Madhavi enjoyed living on her own. She had enough money of her own now and began to add little things to the house. III SO MADHAVI BEGAN another phase in her life. Slowly, she blocked out the memory of that terrible night and began to come to terms with her own needs and sexuality. Still she was fearful and haunted and it took her a long time to acknowledge, even to herself, that she had sexual needs, and even more time to venture into it. It was difficult and, at first, she contented herself with masturbation and fantasy. When she acquired a computer of her own at home and got onto the Internet it became easier and she began to crave for a man's touch. It may sound strange but, in Bombay, for a single woman living alone to find a lover is both very difficult and extremely easy. It is difficult because there is a social appearance to be maintained and the woman cannot be openly seen with single men or her reputation is 'sullied'. Madhavi was anyway in a delicate position simply by being on her own and this often raised silent questions about her. But there is no shortage in the city of willing men eager for sex, as she soon found out. She was convinced that she did not want any sort of commitment but was interested only in the purely physical aspects of the relationship. Cautiously, she began to explore. She described it like being blind and groping her way in sudden darkness though unfamiliar surroundings. Her first lover in her new home was a married man from her firm. He was the youngest partner and she found him attractive, handsome and ambitious and dashing. He wanted to make his firm one of the best in the city. He had plenty of contacts and was responsible for a steep increase in the firm's billing. His married life was singularly unhappy: his wife saw procreation as the only purpose of sex. With one son already and another on the way their sex life had come to a total halt. Madhavi found herself seconded to his division and they spent many hours together on different assignments. Sometimes, the work kept them late at the office. It was there that he kissed her for the first time and made his advances. She found the touch exciting and it brought out something in her that had been hidden for a long time. She desired real sex, not the make believe world of masturbation, but she did not want to come across as too available and did not make a further move. But, equally, she did not resist. They started their affair and met regularly. He took her out to dinner frequently and to movies and shows. They kissed and fondled in his car and she allowed him to feel her breasts and her response when he touched her. They had sex for the first time at his house while his wife was away at her parents' place. Madhavi was nervous at first and this pleased him because he thought she was inexperienced and he could tutor her. She realized this and kept up a pretence of being a novice even as she relaxed and succumbed to his caresses. Sex after such a long gap was intense and deeply satisfying. Shame The affair continued for many months. They spent some weekends at a hill resort near Bombay and also at a hotel on the beach where they locked themselves into their room and had prolonged sex. Madhavi knew that though she loved the sex with him, she felt nothing more for him than affection. Their time together decreased after his wife gave birth and returned home a few weeks later from her mother's place with the infant. It was impossible to meet as frequently. Madhavi soon became restless and started thinking of taking another lover. Her next lover was the son of a major client of the firm. Madhavi was part of the team that was involved in some on-site work for the client. The particular project was being handled by the client's CEO's son. He was 25 or so and much younger than her but very sexy with a good body. They went out to a lunch party in a big group and she sat next to him. When he pressed his leg against hers and put her hand on her thigh she did not move away. He got bolder and later asked her out on a dinner date. She agreed. He picked her up from her house in his car and they went out to a fancy restaurant. She enjoyed the evening. He was good company, cheerful and intelligent and a good conversationalist. On the way back he took a detour by a lonely road along the seashore and then parked the car in a small lane leading to the beach. She did not resist when he put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She allowed him to kiss her and then to slip his hand into her shirt and fondled her breasts. In a short while, they were fucking in the back seat of the car. It was the first time she had done it in a car and she found it very exciting and erotic. She remembered quite clearly how, sitting in the back seat, she had bent over and given him a long blowjob. They had sex with her on top and she was pleased to find that he had a strong body and a large penis. The sex was excellent and then they laughed together recalling how the car squeaked with the bouncing caused by their motions. For some time Madhavi continued to see both lovers and kept each one in the dark about the other. The dual life was thrilling for her. In any case, her boss wasn't able to spend much time with her because of his wife and kids, so there wasn't much tension to trouble her. Both affairs cooled off on their own, and now Madhavi didn't mind very much. She had convinced herself that what she wanted was sexual pleasure and not a lasting relationship. That made things easier for her in many ways. Over the next several months, she took a succession of lovers. There was a young apprentice from the firm with whom she enjoyed passionate sex for a while, and, later, a teenager from the building across the yard. Basically, all she wanted was a warm, hard body to satisfy her physically. She enjoyed and even hankered for the hot, hard, thrusting heat of a man in her flesh, his hard hands on her soft, smooth flesh. All that changed, she said, when she met me in the chat rooms. Very soon after we met, she had begun yearning for something more. She had never felt lonelier in her life, she said. Till tonight. IV IT WAS WELL PAST MIDNIGHT when she finished. I couldn't understand why she had told me all this and I asked her gently. She sighed and slowly moved away from me and got up. She opened her shirt and let it fall to her feet. Naked, she went out on to the balcony, and put out her hand behind her without looking back, signalling to me. She looked incredibly sexy framed against the dark sky. The wind ruffled her dark hair. I got up and dropped my underpants and went to join her, my cock already hardening just looking at her. When I came up to her, she took my cock in her hand and leaned back against my chest, closing her eyes. I caressed her breasts gently. They became tight and heavy and her nipples grew hard. "I like having sex out in the open air," she said to me. For some time we remained in that position while she jerked me off slowly. Then she turned around and without a word went down on her knees in front of me and slowly took my cock in her mouth. It was sexy to be sucked off in the open air. Now I knew where she had gained experience in cock- sucking and sex. But right then I didn't concern myself with all that but only enjoyed the feeling of her tongue and mouth on my cock. When I looked down I saw that she was fondling her breasts slowly, lifting and squeezing them and pulling her long nipples. I grew more excited. After some time she stood up and again turned her back to me and, leaning on the balcony railing, pushed her buttocks at me and spread her legs wide open. "Come on. Take me," she said softly. I wanted to taste her juicy pussy and I kneeled behind her and pushed my face up between her thighs. I heard her moaning and she moved her hand down her belly, spreading her cunt-lips open for my tongue. I pushed it in deep, tasting the aromatic nectar of her cunt. Her legs trembled and she gasped and her moans became louder. I pushed one finger into her cunt, right up to the knuckle and her body became stiff and she grabbed my wrist, keeping my finger inside her. Her moans became louder. "Quickly! Now! Fuck me!" she gasped. I got up and stood behind her, pushing my cock between her legs. She was ready for me, wet and open and my cock went in smoothly, all the way. She flung her head back and I leaned forward to kiss her hard, squeezing her breasts in both hands. Her hands were tight on the railing and her cunt was squeezing my cock. I started fucking her, holding her waist and moving my hips back and forth, pushing my cock in and out of her cunt. Madhavi gasped and moaned in excitement and begged me to fuck her harder. Her words aroused and excited me and I responded in kind. She began to orgasm and I moved even faster and harder, ramming my cock deep into her cunt, making her cry out. My hands crushed her breasts. I let her orgasm pass and continued stroking in and out of her but held back. I wanted to enjoy her still. All that she had told me started forming images in my head and, despite the fact that it was a story of sorrow and shame, I began to feel aroused. In my mind's eye, I saw her having sex with different men, even strangers, more than one man at a time. I saw her body writhing and twisting between their bodies and her face twisting in excitement and arousal. I imagined the sight of seeing her suck one man while another took her from behind in her cunt or even in her asshole. I did not know if she had tried that. But now the thoughts and my imagination excited me tremendously. She somehow sensed my mood and tension and when I slid my cock out of her, she turned around and pressed her body against mine. "What do you want?" she whispered to me. "Tell me what you want." And then I saw the tears shining in her eyes. An icy hand gripped my heart and I lost my arousal. "Nothing," I stammered in shock. "I want nothing from you, Madhavi. Nothing at all. Truly." "Are you sure?" she said in a trembling voice. "You can have me again in any way you like. I don't mind. Go ahead ... take me as you want." "No," I said and kissed her gently, caressing her. "I don't want to take anything from you, Madhavi. Not now. Not ever." She bowed her head against my chest and I could feel her tears on my skin. Her voice was soft and muffled when she spoke. "So many," she said. "There were so many. And they just took and took and took from me. And I gave them what they wanted but they never stopped to think about me. They all thought I wanted what they wanted. But it was never like that. Yet they all did. All of them. Took me as they liked, when they liked, as often as they liked. It is almost all the love I have ever known. Why should I expect you would be any different?" Now her tears were a flood and her body was shaking with her sobs. I held her close to me, soothing her, stroking her hair, pressing my lips to her head, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. I only knew what I was beginning to feel, and I had no words to say it yet. So I just held her, close till, gradually, she calmed down. We stood for a long while in the balcony, in the cool night, silent together. At last she stepped away from me. I watched as she pulled off her hair clip, held it between her lips, shook her hair, tilted her head back, pulled her hair back, gave it a little twist and then fastened the clip again. "You must be hungry," she said softly, rising on her toes and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Come, I'll make some sandwiches or something." She started to go past me but I stopped her and turned her around and pulled her close to me and kissed her, gently but deeply. She returned the embrace without hesitation. This time there was no lust but there was much desire, much longing, and, above all, deep tenderness. "Let me do it," I said. "I'm quite good in the kitchen." Madhavi looked up and her eyes sparkled in that infectious smile. "Not just in the kitchen, apparently." I grinned. "You go on in. I'll make something." "Will you find what you need?" "I'm good at exploring." She giggled. "So it seems." I slapped her gently on her naked butt and she turned and went into the bedroom. I watched her go, heard her go into the bathroom and heard the shower running. For a minute I stood in the balcony, looking out at the darkness, trying to sort out my emotions and feelings. No other woman I had been with before had made me feel like this. It wasn't pity. She didn't pity herself and didn't ask for it from me, neither pity nor even sympathy. It was a totally different feeling. My image and impressions of her had changed, too. Now she seemed frighteningly lonely. But there was something else also. It was as if she felt ashamed. She had nothing to be ashamed of, as far as I could make out. She had done no wrong. Yet it seemed as if her heart and soul had been torn out, ripped up and destroyed by other men, leaving an empty shell deep within. She was trying, I felt, to fill that void. Slowly, she was coming to terms with herself and her terrible past. She had allowed others, as she said, to take from her. Now she needed to be the recipient, to have someone else give as she had given. She had chosen me, or maybe I had let myself be chosen. Whatever it was, I knew only a feeling of warmth and a deep joy like I had never felt before. In the hall, I turned on her stereo system and selected a disc, some gentle instrumental easy listening. Humming to the tune, I went into the kitchen and started poking around. I was in luck. I found almost everything I needed. I've lived alone for so long that rustling up something quick and tasty has never been a problem for me. I found fresh crusty bread, some mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic, a small bottle of olive oil and, best of all, fresh basil. I chopped up the garlic. I set a large, deep pan on the burner, threw in a generous wad of butter and began to sauté the garlic. When it was done, I put in the washed, sliced mushrooms, covered the pan and let it simmer. Meanwhile, I diced three large tomatoes and washed, cut the basil fine, sliced the bread loaf and lightly toasted them in the pop-up toaster. After a while, the mushrooms were soft and had released their water. I tossed in the basil and stirred the pan till the basil was nicely mixed up. I emptied the pan into a large glass bowl, tossed in the diced tomatoes, drizzled it with olive oil, a squeeze of fresh lime, a little salt and pepper and mixed it up. I set the bowl in a tray with two smaller bowls and forks, buttered the toasted bread, arranged the slices on a play on the tray and brought it out. Madhavi came out of the shower into the hall. Her hair was wrapped up in a thick white towel but she was otherwise nude. "Oh my, that smells wonderful!" she said as I put the tray on the dining table. "So do you," I laughed. "Tell you what. You eat the salad, I eat you. Deal?" "You're a sex maniac," she laughed. "No deal. We both eat." She loved my little warm salad. We ate together and after we were done, I cleared the table. She told me to leave the dishes; the part-time servant would clean them the next day. I rinsed them nonetheless and stacked them neatly in the sink. I went back into the bedroom. She was lying in bed with the covers up. I slid in beside her and she immediately turned to me, came into my arms. I kissed her and rolled her on her back. Her eyes were dark and somber. "You asked me why I told you all that about myself," she said. I kissed her and stopped her from saying any more. "I don't need an answer to that any more," I said. "I know." "I know you know," she said softly. "Thank you." "Don't say that." "It's been a long time since I had anyone to say that to," she said. "It feels right." "That's the best part, isn't it?" I smiled. "How it all feels right? I mean, all of this, every minute?" "No," she said quietly. "What feels right is that till last evening, I didn't know you and you didn't know me. It feels right that I was right in feeling I could trust you. It's been really long since I felt like that about anyone." I had nothing to say to that and she didn't expect an answer. She moved under me, and her lips were soft and open under mine and her hand was between my legs. For the first time that night, we made love. We didn't just fuck, we actually made love. It was intense, long and deeply satisfying. Our orgasms were explosive and sharp and she clung to me as I took her again and again and again, making her gasp and moan in unashamed joy. V WE ARE STILL TOGETHER, SHE AND I. We live together now, though we're not married and have no plans to be. We've kept her house, too, and sometimes we stay over there for a weekend. We go to movies and dinners and plays and parties together and everyone thinks of us as a couple now. We enjoy each other's company. The sex is great and we've experimented, found new things. I enjoy watching her masturbate, and she likes doing it. I confessed to her that I was aroused by the idea of watching her have sex with another man and we experimented with group sex, swapping and voyeurism a few times. But those were just idle fancies, to satisfy our lust of the moment. Invariably, we wind up with each other, enjoying our nights together. It doesn't get better than this. There has been some loose talk at her office, but she doesn't let that bother her. She has told her parents and family that she is seeing me. I have met her family. I could sense the resistance, but her father put up a brave front and, after a while, he relaxed and we got along famously. They're really very fine people. Sometimes it seems like I speak to her father and brother more than she does. No one asks us about marriage any longer, at least not seriously. "He has promised to marry me when I am 65," she teased her mother once and everyone laughed, even her father and brother. A few months ago, her father was in town on work. He stayed with us as he always does now and anyway my place is larger and more convenient for his business. Late one evening, we went out for a walk, just he and I. Madhavi shooed us out of the kitchen where we were generally making an infernal nuisance of ourselves. "Promise me one thing," her father said to me after a bit. "Certainly, sir. Anything." I replied. "Promise me that you will look after my daughter always. I am not asking you to marry her. Just to please look after her." "Sir, you do not need to ask that from me." "But I do ask it. She has known too much unhappiness in her life." "Yes. She has. But that is in the past. It's over. And I would rather die than add to what she has already suffered." Her father stopped and looked at me. "Does it trouble you? Upset you? Knowing all that happened with her, all that she did?" "No, sir, it does not," I said quietly. "It never has, not from the first day she told me, and she told me on the first day." "That is all I needed to hear," he said. "Thank you." "Sir?" I asked. "Yes?" "You just said 'all that she did'. With respect, sir, that is totally and utterly wrong and I beg you never to say that to me again. What did she do? She certainly did no wrong. She did nothing wrong. She was the wronged person. Let me also tell you, sir, that if I felt like that, we would not be together and you would not be here, because then my being with her would come from pity or sympathy. What Madhavi and I share is not pity. It is a friendship, trust and respect. That is our understanding of love, both hers and mine. It is something she may have had once, but which she lost. I hope she has found it again with me. Certainly, I have found it with her. Quite simply, sir, she is my life. Without her, I have nothing and I am nothing. That is what she means to me. And so I do not think there is anything she 'did' in that sense. She did nothing shameful. She has nothing to be ashamed of." We were standing by the sea and the air was still and warm. There was a full moon out and in its pale light, I saw tears shining on the old man's cheeks and felt my heart breaking and put my arm around his shoulders. "Forgive me, son," he said softly. "Forgive me. You're right. My daughter has nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all." ****** ------------------------------------------- Glossary of Indian (Hindi) words used in this story: Sari : Indian garment; six or nine yards (yes, yards) of fabric wound around the waist, one end then draped over the upper body. Churidar : lower garment, like leggings or harem-pants, cut close down the calves and ankles. Kurta : upper garment, like a long gown, usually calf-length. This story was originally published under the pseudonym Philogyst. A first draft was reviewed and later drafts edited by the late Mary J Gandmar, whose erotic writing inspired the story, and to whose memory this story is dedicated. Comments are, of course, welcome. This story is copyright Mix O'Scopist, 2001-2005. Please do not republish, repost, transmit or distribute without permission (which will be readily granted, without fee, but only on condition that the authorship is acknowledged and credit lines and copyright notices, including this one, are retained intact). ------------------------------------------- Shame Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action, and till action, lust Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody full of blame, William Shakespeare, Sonnet 129 Are some of us born more naked than others? Brought into the world ready to take in every criticism, suggestion, or unkind remark as gospel, increasing the shame and humiliation delivered along with the placenta? If so, maybe that manner of coming into the world created my submissive nature – or maybe my submissive nature merely makes me comfortable with embarrassment and shame. In the daily rush of getting through life, these are questions I don't need to answer. However, I think understanding requires going all the way back to the beginning. Firstborn, with three years of being the only child, I competed with careers, a marital relationship less than a year old when I was born, and utterly incompatible spouses who had no idea how to parent. I needed the attention every child needs, so I learned to try harder, to try all the time, and to get used to disappointment and failure. I didn't learn to love failure and disappointment, but I accepted that they were and always would be part of my life. When my brother arrived, I became the little mother at age three, seeing that caretaking might be the way in which I could get attention and love. Instead, I set a pattern for life – being the caretaker, the provider, the lover. These were roles I would fully inhabit without receiving those things in return. Continuing the pattern of my childhood, I believed it didn't matter what I did, since no one cared about me anyway, and I fell into the pattern of telling people what I thought they wanted to hear, and then doing what I wanted. I have focused on my dogs, going to great lengths to give them a good quality of life, love, attention, and care – because, in a life devoid of warm contact and happiness, my dogs have always made me feel I matter to them, that they love me, and that they are always happy to be with me, even when I'm not doing anything for them. I never got that from any people in my life, so it was easy to understand why dogs became so important to me. It didn't hurt that they didn't constantly criticize and demand more, more, and still more of me, either. People have taken all I have to give, only to demand greater sacrifices. People have watched me change myself to meet their specifications, only to seek more alterations. I have been in never-ending spirals of defeat and despair, trying to please people without pleasing myself first. Despite the certain knowledge that such a life could only end in despair, incorporating new self-affirming behaviors my daily life has been a nightmare. Since I started life as a submissive in service in January 2008, many of my ideas about who I am and what my life is about have come under attack. While the concept of being in service, of submitting myself to a Dominant, resonates with me on a very primal level, the actuality of giving up everything, of having no control, has been shattering to adjust to and to accept. The fact that I am relinquishing all of my life, my self, my ideas, my goals, and my desires to another is nearly impossible to comprehend, much less accomplish. The reality that I have spent most of my life trying to accomplish this does not make it any easier to do, since I have never had anything remotely like this in my life before. To make the transition from being responsible not only for myself, but for all the other people and things whom I hold dear in my life, to relinquishing all responsibility to the Dominant has so far been impossible for me to accomplish. I accept that the Dominant I serve requires this; further, I know from the many ways the Dominant I serve has stepped in to help me when I have been overwhelmed that he deserves that level of trust from me. But I still have yet to reach that level of submission, to attain that goal of reliance on the One whom I serve. My failure to trust adds to my constant sense of falling short; of disappointing the primary person in my life; and of never being good enough. My fear of failure, my tendency to avoid it at all costs, sets up a constant stream of advice: "Get out now. You have been in this situation before and it never ends well for you!" Yet my need for submission, for service, and for the feeling of self-esteem that I earned through expressing my true self to persevere compels me to stay. Through intense self-examination and discussion of my feelings with the Dominant I serve, I have come to realize that my past experiences with men were failures not just because the men to whom I gave myself were dismissive of the true gift they received, not just because the men whom I loved did not love me in return; or even not just because the men were selfish, self-absorbed boors who had little concern for anyone other than themselves. I have begun to understand that I chose to be in relationships with men who were all those things, not just because of my low self-esteem and unhappiness, but because, by being the giver, the facilitator, and the caretaker, I was IN CONTROL. I could give all or a little; I could try hard or coast; and I could keep most of my life separate from the relationships. Submission and service do not allow me control. The Dominant I serve wants to know everything; he requires the truth even when the truth will be unpleasant or hurtful to him and/or to me; he will be the only one in control of our relationship and of me, or he will remove himself from the relationship. Wrapping my head around the reality, which is so far removed from the fantasy perception I have had of all my past relationships; recognizing that I always was in control in the past, has been a tough journey for me. It hasn't been completed yet; I'm not "home free" with an understanding and willingness to abandon the behaviors and patterns of decades for flying on an emotional trapeze without a net. But I am trying . . . . At the moment, feeling fat and being fat seems like a fitting punishment for refusing to speak up for myself. I was too terrified of facing the Dominant's anger, disappointment, and censure to be honest with the Dominant about what was going on with me physically and emotionally. My fear encouraged me to give up, to let go of my goals, and to make myself so disgusting that the Dominant would dump me and release me from the never-ending cycle of disappointment and failure that was eating my soul alive. The submission and service that started as a voyage of discovery and personal expression was becoming my desperate chore that could only end in defeat. When the truth finally came out, as I know it always will, the shame and despair I felt at my weight gain and esteem loss was exacerbated and heightened by the Dominant's reaction, by his experience of my failure, disappointment, and shame as his own. I did not appreciate how personally the Dominant would take what was, to me, a completely personal defeat, just as the Dominant seems unable to accept the killing punishment and ongoing humiliation of once again having lost my battle with weight. And yet what has been most difficult for me to accept and understand has been the Dominant's refusal to give up on me; his determination to hold me accountable not only for my failure to be honest with him, but for whether my life in submission continues or is cut short. Every day, I take photos that feel like mug shots, standing convicted of being fat and ugly, and preserving the evidence for the rest of my life. Every day, I stand in a park and urinate, fearing discovery and arrest. Every day, I read stories that are full of violence and disrespect, making me fear that I am heading toward abuse and despair because I am becoming habituated to relationships that require a submissive to be less than human, whilst my goal and belief in submission has been that it makes me better and more than I was before I found that way of life. Every work day, I squeeze between the arms of a desk chair that used to be inches away from my hips. Every work day, I creep up and down stairs like an elderly woman because I fear my leg will collapse under me and people will laugh at the fat woman sprawled up the stairs. Every day, in every way, I am getting sadder and sadder. And yet, every day, I face the facts the Dominant refuses to let me hide away from: the Dominant chooses to have daily photographs so as to maintain his connection with me despite the geographical distance between us; and the Dominant uses the stories I read and write about to help me understand the wide gulf between the service some submissives endure (or perhaps enjoy) and the service I am privileged to have found. The reading helps me appreciate my needs and desires in submission, as well as the parameters of submission set by my burgeoning self-esteem and pride in service. Recognizing and accepting that the Dominant I serve, who like the men in my past told me that he did not and would not love me, expresses that denied love for me every day. The Dominant is there for me every day; his number is the first one I call when there is an emergency; he offers sympathy, understanding, and encouragement; and he cares about me – not just the part of me that is his serving submissive, but me as a professional, as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend, all the persons I am even when those persons don't touch his life in any way. The Dominant I serve went so far as to lend me a large sum of money that was required to secure specialized medical care for one of my beloved dogs, care I could not afford on my own, despite the Dominant's dislike of dogs in general and the annoyance my attention to my dogs in particular brings him. Even through my despair at my weight gain, and the hard acknowledgement of the underlying emotional issues that contributed to it, I have been encouraged by the Dominant I serve to claw out of my shame and disappointment. The Dominant I serve believes, and frequently tells me, what I have to KNOW -- that I am not as worthless and undeserving as I have told myself I am. I have begun losing weight yet again, but this time I am not just watching my food intake and increasing my exercise. Instead, I am working on ALL my weight issues, including the insidious emotional and psychological ones. I am utilizing an online program that provides me with daily contact with others dealing with many of the same (and more severe) emotional and physical issues I face. Being a part of a community of people (mostly women) who openly and honestly express the emotional, physical, and psychological impact on their lives of being overweight and unfit physically has been tremendously liberating and empowering in a struggle that has consumed much of my adult life. Being a serving submissive has taught me many things – things I didn't know about myself, things I didn't know about love, and things I didn't know about life. Submissive service not only teaches me how to serve, but how to learn all I can about the One I serve. Submissive service helps me appreciate some of the burdens and responsibilities accepted by the Dominant I serve as part of his acceptance of my service. All of these are important, vital lessons for a submissive, and for a fully functioning human being. The primary lesson I have learned and continue to learn is that being my true and authentic self, in submission, or in any other relationship, is the only way to escape shame. Shame Hey guys, this is just something I am trying out. If you don't like first person stories you will not like this one. As always feedback is appreciated. No editor for this one if people like it I will continue with one :) ****** At what point did this all spin out of control? I know I saw this coming. At what point did I lose myself to become this person? I wondered all these things as I sat on the back of the fire truck with holding ice on my swollen lip, fingers trembling. Police were walking around the scene; I could hear their hard bottom shoes crunching over the shattered safety glass. Some type of steam was rising from the hood of my car. Which was currently hugging a light pole in a warm steel embrace, its fucking totaled I just know it. It was dark outside, only the lights of the parking lot were illuminating the area. The moon was a half crescent my favorite of its shapes, the stars were bright in the clear sky. For a moment I could look up and think I was somewhere else. Wishing it with all my heart I was somewhere else and this was a nightmare. I was quickly brought back by the sounds of dispatch radios and the flashing lights all around me. A handsome firefighter came tell me I was going to be transported by ambulance to the hospital to be checked out. I just nodded His eyes matched his strong voice, intense blue with what looked like golden flecks. A hot guy was the last thing I needed to be concerned about. News crews were beginning to arrive... I heard the other fire men talking to the police about my car possibly catching fire and that it needed to be moved it out the area asap. I saw a detective eyeing me from the police car where he was talking to a woman, a desperate woman, who was cuffed in the back. I met her eyes, her hazel bloodshot eyes, so worn, so sad, and so angry. She had a look on her face was easy to read, I could feel her rage, she wanted me dead. Damn, I can't believe I almost looked death in the face. How am I going to go to work in the morning? God it's no way no one saw, could this put my job in jeopardy? This situation is just oozing with juice for local media. A million question going on in my head and I felt like shit for even being so concerned about myself. I couldn't help but feel the woman in the police car and I should switch places. The damage that I had done on her life seemed equal. I am a heartless bitch, a home wrecker that just destroyed a family. I deserve the excruciating pain I feel all over my body... ***** Maybe I should start at the beginning , maybe you will be able to help me understand. I am not looking for sympathy, no, not at all. I just want to know at what point did I lose myself? If I can find that maybe I will be able to get some of me back... 4 months earlier I saw him sneaking glances at me. His brown eyes always started at my feet and worked their way my legs and continued until they reached my eyes. I was use to people staring at my eyes. They were striking grey a contrast to my dark brown skin. They ran in my family I got mine from my daddy, he got his from his mother and so on and so on. I was the only child to get them out of my immediate family; I was called the lucky one. It would seem they got me more attention than I wanted growing up. I had been called stuck up, freak, or even a witch because of them. Children are so creative... Needless to say I was use to people staring at my eyes. He was on a weight machine working on his arms, I had started watch them flex every time he curled them. He was solid, but not stocky. Honestly, I probably would have never noticed him if he hadn't kept staring at me. I could feel it, I tried to ignore but it literally felt like someone burning a hole in me. Finally I looked out from the stair master and met his eyes. I had seen him once or twice in passing. Yes, he was attractive, he was dark and handsome. Olive skin and dark brown eyes, his dark brown hair was long enough for the front to reach his eyebrows. He was taller than me about 5'10-5'11. His roman nose made me think he was Italian or something. Not that I am an expert. I also noticed his wedding ring. He was just another good looking guy at the gym, another married guy. I can't say why that day he decided to stare me down. I don't know why I didn't bitch up and say "what the fuck are you staring at?" I also, can't say why I blushed and smiled in response. What I do know is that was the beginning of the fall down the rabbit hole. I saw him, I acknowledged him and though no moves were made that day I feel, I welcomed the advances that were coming. We didn't speak that day but there was a connection. It could have ended there when he didn't have a name, he didn't have a personality. It could have ended while he was just a handsome face and a hard body. If I had never seen him again outside the gym, I would have forgotten about him. But life doesn't mean to make things easy. It seems to want a little chaos, sometimes things need to work out just right so that certain moments can fall into place. ***** I was at a happy hour after work. I am not a daily drinker, usually only at socially or an occasional glass of wine at home. That day, though I felt I needed it. My work seemed to come crashing down on me. I was a Human resource manager a financial investment firm, and my HR assistant made a royal fuck up. Due to an over sight the commission numbers were not added in with the hourly pay for the previous pay period. Meaning a lot of checks were going to come up short if everything wasn't manually done by the next day. The problem was fixable but no one likes their money messed with, I knew some people would have to wait. I was going to get chewed out for the mistake. This one had come too soon after a pervious mistake the same assistant made. I didn't want to think of having to fire someone. I was sitting at the bar in Pappasitos drinking my skinny margarita when I felt the stare. I really wasn't in the mood for some perv undressing me with his eyes. I made my today is not the day face and got ready to turn. I even had the first curse I was going to use picked out; it was one of my favorites, asshole. But when I turned it was him. His dark looks wrapped up in a suit, he was drinking some type of cognac. I knew I was in trouble because I recognized him immediately. As casual as our encounter was he had a place in my brain. Inside I was happy to see him, surprised and excited. It didn't matter that his ring kept catching the light. When he moved to the seat next to me; I leaned in instead of leaning away. His smooth voice drew me in as he spoke. "Your eyes are beautiful, not just the color but the shape, I think they would look good any color really. It's something about their shape," He was looking directly in my eyes the pull was magnetic and I couldn't look away. "You must think I am crazy, to just stare like this. I just wanted to give you that compliment." I finally could look down for a second when I brought my eye back up it seemed I had found my sense. "Well thank you, do you usually go around staring at and complimenting women who aren't your wife? Or is this always your opening line? Assholes like you are all the same." I nodded toward his hand. He didn't turn away or bow his head in shame. He didn't smile like a douche bag. It would have been easier if he had done those things. He kept his sincere face, looked in my eyes and said "No." "I haven't asked you to get a room with me or to take off your clothes and let me fuck you till your knees gave out. I just gave you a compliment." It was inappropriate; I could hear anger and sarcasm in his voice. A crass way of being honest but also telling; truthfully I was being a bitch. "I apologize I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, and my bad day is no excuse. My name is Torrie," I stuck out my hand. "Let me get the next one." I gave an apologetic smile. He took hand and gave it a gentle but firm shake." I am Ignacio, but most people call me Carlo my middle name. I am a little on edge too, but seeing you made me feel better. That was until you verbally kneed me in the balls." I laughed. "I can't blame it all on you, my mama taught me it was rude to stare. So, accept my apology for that. How about we pay for each other's drinks?" His smile was warm sexy sideways smile. Not boyish but it was mischievous. "Fine with me, what are you having?" I motioned for the bartender. "Can I pick both?" "Sure I am no light weight. "But, are you brave enough? "He met my eyes again with a look that made me ask myself if all he was talking about the drinks. "I am very competitive don't challenge me. " At that point of was just ten toes deep on the hole we were digging. The bartender had come over by then Ignacio ordered two shots of Partida tequila chilled. I hadn't taken a shot in it seemed like ages. The bartender was generous with the shot, it was more like 1 ½ . We toasted to better days, and then bottoms up. It was a toast to the beginning of the end. ****** We had left pappasitos after talking about our bad days and another round of shots. Ignacio told me about another quite bar in hotel Derek, I followed him. I knew I should have just went home but I felt so good. He had touched my thigh in the restaurant not in a sexual way in a drunk let me lean on you real quick way. At the new bar something had changed. It seemed like he had made a decision during the drive. He ordered our drinks and we continued, this time it seems a different tone was in the air. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Torrie?" he asked me with his head down "No I feel real relaxed thank you for the drinks." I smiled and put my hands on the bar and focused on my drink. "I don't know what I am doing here with you...ever since I stared at you the first day gym...I am not thinking straight I'm just taking action on what I feel." He had looked up at me. "I know, I don't think we should be here. We don't know each other this is so random. Sure you may be attracted, there is chemistry. We had a good time but now, you can walk away. We can walk away and nobody is hurt, only if we do it now." I was begging him to let me out . I turned to face him and he had moved so close his thigh was between mine. He pushed his leg further bringing it in contact with my pussy. Every little move he made it brushed against it. He had to be doing it on purpose. "Ok, let's go. Get up and leave Torrie. Get up before I tell you want I really want." He locked his eyes on mine. I had to be so tipsy that it didn't matter he had spread my legs wider making my skirt raise to my upper thighs. Ignacio definitely was now purposely rubbing his knee against my pussy making me wet. I never moved away or slapped him. Now, he was looking in my eyes telling me how he wanted to fuck me. "I wanted you at the gym, Torrie, I saw the way your body twisted with each step on ur machine. I saw how your breast moved with each hop. I saw the sweat all over you and your pretty eyes. I wanted to fuck you in the locker room. I wanted to fuck you in front of all those people" He was serious. "Go home and fuck your wife." I begged. "I did. I didn't think about you anymore. Not till I saw you again." He had an edge like he was mad life was tempting him, testing him and he was losing. We were at the corner of the bar. So my body was shielded from almost everybody by the bar. My face was not, and nobody was deaf. I could hear little moans escaping me, but I just didn't care. "I want to fuck you now, right now." He had moved his knee back I felt his hands moving towards my heat, I was burning up. When his hand moved my panties to the side I let out a low cry. The bartender shot me a look. This time I found enough sense to be embarrassed. Ignacio did not relent; I felt his finger slide into me. I felt his thick finger slide out of me. It was like being around people made me more aware of my body; because I had to prepare myself to keep my reactions under control. I felt his finger slide into me again, I moaned softly as he curled his finger in me. My left hand was gripping the bar my right around his wrist. As if I was trying to stop him, but I couldn't put any force behind it. He pulled his finger out I could hear my wetness against the movement. The bartender was staring as he dipped it quickly in his drink. He brought it out and tasted my juices mixed with his Hennessey black. "It's a good mix, but I think it would be better as a chaser, why don't you finish that drink." He looked at me like it wasn't an option. I finished my pom margarita while he gulp down the rest of his drink. He pulled me up into him. I had to spare a glance for the stool; I just knew I left a wet spot. I felt him pulling my skirt down, while he was in still front of me, a gesture to save me embarrassment I guess. My nipples were at full attention evident through my blouse. They were brushing against his chest making me hotter. I had to gain some control before I fucked him on the bar. I moved his hands away with a little force, "I can do that myself I do have some class left in me, to make sure I don't stumble out of here like some drunk half dressed hoe." I scowled. This had gone far enough. sure I was drunk but I refused to be a hoe for some married man. Yes he just fingered me at a hotel bar but you can always draw a line right? His dick didn't penetrate me yet, so I could salvage some of my dignity. I just needed to find another gym. I walked towards the restrooms "Torrie, I know you are not a slut." He half tripped over his feet to come after me. "I didn't say slut Ignacio I said hoe. Hoes fuck with married men." too much tequila always made me feisty. It needed to be said. I walked in to the women's restroom. "I, I am a little drunk I don't know why I kept pushing this. I just can't stop it's too late." He had followed me in. I knew what was coming I could see the imprint of his dick starting towards the leg of his suit pants. I just knew he was about to turn me around and fuck me against the wall. He walked me back to the wall I felt it when my back met it. I could see our reflection in the mirror on the side. He tried to kiss my lips but I turned my head. Too intimate. This was going to go down into my place where I kept me deep dark secrets, that I didn't tell a soul. It would never be brought up again. I could move on like I never did it. He moved down to my neck while he unbuttoned my blouse. His lips were soft to the touch on my skin but rough with how he was using them. Like an animal. I heard his teeth tear some of the lace on my bra. I pushed his face into my breast like his aggression was channeling into me. I didn't care when he ripped the middle apart. Watching my breast spring free in the reflection turned me on so much, I was so hot my hand instinctively went to my skirt. He must have read my mind because he pulled my skirt up so fast I heard the split rip farther up towards my ass. He pushed his finger back in me in and then out. He added another while he made his way to my belly button. I began to shimmy out my panties to save them from being ripped too. Just in time. His mouth was on me. The tip of his tongue grazing my already swollen clit it was sticking out ready to help with my release. He moved his tongue against it while still fingering me. I took it upon myself to raise one leg on his shoulder. I pushed his face deeper to me, "Suck it. Suck it baby yea". He moved his fingers and wrapped my other leg around his shoulders. In the mirror I could see my chocolate globes bouncing as I jerk from pleasure it turned me on even more. I brought my hands up to rub and pinch my nipples. I was about to come. All I could see of Ignacio was his hair peeking up above my thighs. His head was moving from side to side rapidly. Each turn grazing his tongue against my sensitive bud. He was driving me insane. I was grinding my hips into his face like I didn't care if he could breath. I had lost all reason, I didn't care there was no lock on the door. No one came in that I could tell, but if they did I wouldn't have cared, I was going to fuck this man. I was going to fuck the shit out of him. My pussy ached to be filled, It was past the point of return. I creamed all over his face and wouldn't let his head move till I finished. He looked up at me with a grin. I thought he was setting my legs to the floor but he hooked them around his waist as he came up. "Mmm sweet and aggressive, now it's my turn to show you what aggression means. And you will like it." I had no doubt. I could feel him pressed against me, it felt thick. I quivered with need, I needed to feel him in me. I wanted him -at this point- in every way. My mouth watered with the thought of taking him in my mouth. My need to be filled was taking precedence though. I heard his pants fall to the floor. The belt echoing in the empty rest room as it hit the floor. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard foil tear, at least one of us has a brain. When he entered me I let out a cry so loud anyone in the vicinity heard. Ignacio only spared me a few slow strokes as he began his assault. He brought his hand up to my neck slightly pinning my head back against the wall. Then he slid his hand down between my legs again and played with my clit. "Oh God..." was all that escaped me. He leaned down and bite my shoulder, I yelped quietly. He bent further and took my nipple in his mouth sucking hard I cried out again at the pressure, the pain felt so good. His tongue circled it then he bite and sucked right above is causing me to jerk. "Shit!" He began picking up speed and force, pounding me against the wall. He brought a hand back up to my neck and applied pressure. I couldn't breathe, my breath was getting caught in my throat. Not because he was choking me; because he was mercilessly pounding me into the wall. It was endless. I had stopped making sound a long time ago when had he moved his hand back under me to spread my ass cheeks to go in deeper. I felt his fingers close to my other tight spot, spreading me as far as I could go. He was like a machine. I loved watching him work in the mirror, the clench of his muscles as he pushed inside me like he was trying to get lost. I held on for dear life as I came again, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tears running down my face, it was buried in his shoulder. I turned my head to bite his ear, I hear him moan my name. I tightened around him and I felt him tense under me and came after me. I didn't know how much longer my legs could grip around him. We slid to the floor tangled in each other. I don't know how long we stayed that way. I made the first move shakily getting to my feet. I felt lucky that my panties were still around my ankle, I leaned my back against the wall and pulled them up slowly. I tucked my ripped bra in my purse, then buttoned my blouse. My nipples were even more noticeable; my breast jiggled with ever move since they were now free under my shirt. I closed my jacket and pulled down my skirt, thankful the rip stopped b4 it got to my ass. I smoothed my hair as best I could trying to look respectable as a woman who just got banged in the restroom can. I walked out without a word to the man I just fucked in a hotel bar restroom. He had began to collect himself I could feel his eyes on me but I refused to acknowledge them. I walked out into the bar was completely dark it had close. I was now positive the bartender had come to check and heard us. It must be pretty late. Part of me had the urge to walk back in and tell him was could go another round we were even more alone. No. I walked to my car quickly, I had sobered enough to drive. I'd rather risk it then call someone and have them asking me questions. I could smell him all over me, his cologne, his sweat, and that musk everyman has mixed to make his own sexy scent. I had to get him off me, I had to lock it away. I knew I couldn't erase it and forget. At least I could cleanse my outside. The warm water ran over my body as I scrubbed away every trace of him I could think of. My left nipple felt tender every time I went over it. When I was as clean as I felt possible, I stepped out the oil myself. Replacing him with my own comforting smells, "I am still good. I am still good." I repeated it was a chant, a mantra the more I said it the more I could force myself to believe it. Shame I looked in the mirror at myself. The darker, pulm-like skin above my nipple mocked me. It laughed in my face of my "cleansing ritual". Here was proof I was a low down dirty hoe, the bastard had marked me. The proof would be there for at least a week. My eyes watered at the shame of everything, the flirt, the public acts, the hot dirty adulteress sex. The best sex of my life, the shame I didn't let myself cry for. Shame and Consequences David is a person of very regular habit. He would always tell Margaret when he would be home and if plans ever changed, he would telephone. This was as much to ensure that she was ready to receive him with a fresh meal and the close attention that he demanded as it was for her peace of mind, but it did mean that he was very predictable. So it was an action entirely out of character when on that Thursday morning he realised that he had forgotten to pick up some vital documents when he left for work and returned to the house less than half an hour after he left. He parked the car outside the house and walked up the drive selecting the front door key. With a shock he saw that the living room curtains were closed. The curtains were automatically opened on a timer and closed with a light sensitive switch and they had been open when he left for work. The only way that they could now be closed was if Margaret, or somebody else, had overridden them. Why would that be? She would not want or need the curtains to be closed for anything she would be doing. It was too early for the children to be taking a nap. What could be going on? Slowing his step and moving very quietly, he eased the front door silently open. As soon as he entered the hall, he heard moaning from the curtained room. A feeling mixing shock and anger struck him. He moved with as much stealth as possible. Holding his breath, David eased open the door to see the room brightly lit and his naked wife on her knees lying over the pouffe with their, also naked, maid vigorously licking her arse. "Stop." He barked. Both women froze and Margaret let out out a little squeal. David removed his belt and without a word grabbed the maid by the hair pulling her alongside his wife. With all his strength he thrashed the buttocks of both women for more than five minutes. They writhed and screamed as their arses became livid and welted from the flailing leather. Their legs flew and tears dropped freely to the carpet, but neither woman attempted to escape the onslaught or protect themselves from the instant punishment. Dripping with sweat and his arm tired, David replaced the belt around his trousers. Taking Margaret by the hair he dragged her, rubber legged and sobbing, up the stairs to their bedroom. He tied her face down and spreadeagled onto the bed before taking a large butt plug and pushing it fully into the flaming red arse that had been so well spit moistened before its beating. Returning to the living room where the maid remained exactly as he had left her, he commanded her to get up and kneel before him. "Sorry Master." She quivered. "I only serve Madam just as I serve you. Please forgive me. Please let me serve you now Master. Please!" "How often do you do this to her?" "Every day Madam has her shower Master." "Did she tell you to do it?" After I watch Madam do it for you Master and I dry her after shower, I get my face near her bottom and I kiss just a bit. She say yes do that and it start." "What else do you do?" "Nothing Master. Just help Madam with shower." "Does she lick you?" "No Master. That not right. I serve." "OK. So your duties just extended." David took his rock hard prick from his trousers, grabbed her by the hair and thrust himself roughly into her mouth. At first Su tried enthusiastically to suck him, but the aggression of the face fuck was too great for her to handle. She was only a small woman and the prick seemed huge as he forced himself down her throat. She gagged and coughed, then David shot a very large load into her. Su desperately tried to keep it in her mouth and swallow, but she could not help choking and cum dribbled out of her nose and mouth. "Clean yourself up. You look after the children and get my food ready this evening. The bitch stays where she is. Don't speak to her. Don't even go into her room." David returned to work and came home at his usual time. He was interested, amused and rather pleased to find Su kneeling naked in the hall to meet him when he walked in the front door. She had her hands clasped behind her back and her eyes cast to the floor. "Get up. Is my dinner ready?" "Yes Master." "Get me a whisky and go and serve the food." As she scuttled away to the drinks cabinet David looked with some satisfaction at her heavily bruised and welted buttocks. He sat in his favourite armchair and when Su came with the drink, he grabbed her damaged flesh hard and squeezed. She let out a little whimper, but said nothing. "You understand that I should throw you and her out of my house don't you?" "Sorry Master. I didn't understand. I just want make Madam happy. I want make you happy too Master. Please don't send me away." "I wont send you away, but you are going to do a lot more for me in the future. Do you understand?" "Yes Master. Thank you Master. I do anything. Anything at all. Thank you Master." "OK. Go and get the food.." David took his whisky and went to the bedroom. Margaret was as he left her except that her face was now in a tear stained pillow. Her livid arse shone out from her pink body. Without saying anything he took his cane and gave her three hard strokes on her damaged buttocks. Downstairs Su heard Margaret scream as she put the food on the table and she trembled. Although she hadn't eaten or drunk all day Margaret's bladder had not been emptied either and when the third blow of the cane struck her she let go, soaking the bedding with hot piss. David untied her, removed the butt plug to reveal a gaping arsehole and then told her to clean up herself and the bed. Before leaving to eat his meal, he told her to present herself in the bedroom at 9pm. David took a leisurely dinner, savouring the food and the anxious ministrations of Su who frequently topped up his glass and scuttled about removing spent crockery and ensuring that David had all he wanted and the food was to his satisfaction. When he was finally finished and he had instructed Su to briefly put on a dressing gown and ensure that the children were asleep, he told her also to go to the bedroom and present herself. David went to the bathroom and took off his clothing. At precisely nine-o-clock he went into the bedroom where the two women were kneeling naked to receive his judgement on their actions. The stimulation created by satisfaction at his authority and the overwhelming desirability of his errant women mingled in his mind with the erotic images of the petite maid tonguing his beautiful wife. Until this time he had dominated and disciplined the maid, but he had not had her sexually. That had been part of the deal with Margaret. Everything was different now. He could not have controlled it if he wanted, but he was not interested in doing so anyway, David's prick stood rigidly to attention. He took a leather paddle and slapping it into the palm of his hand he approached the kneeling figures. Both were shaking and had their eyes cast to the floor. Placing his hand under his wife's chin he raised her face. As she looked up at him he took Su's hair and pulled her onto his throbbing dick. She opened her mouth instantly to take him and he thrust hard into her throat. "A wife." He said, as Su struggled to take the throat fucking and make it as pleasurable for him as she possibly could. "Can have her function replaced. And a servant serves her Master. Nobody else." He pulled Su's drooling mouth off him. He picked up a tube of KY and threw it to Margaret. "Lube her arse." He instructed. Margaret hastened to open the tube and Su obediently went onto her hands and knees to assist. David knelt down behind her and told his wife to guide his prick into the maid's arsehole. He fucked her hard with his full length while she wriggled and squealed, then, holding Margaret tightly by the hair, he withdrew and shoved his soiled dick into her mouth. She sucked and licked frantically hoping to pleasure him although the taste and thought repelled her. After a few seconds he pulled her face away and thrust again into the waiting arse of his maid. He continued to switch between his servant's arse and his wife's mouth until he shot his load down Margaret's throat. When Margaret had cleaned him fully and he had gone soft, he told both women to face him on their knees with hands clasped behind their backs. Almost idly he slapped their tits with the paddle as he explained that for the next three nights there would be sessions of discipline and service as a consequence of their misbehaviour. Each evening after dinner both of them were to present themselves in the bedroom at nine. Every night Su would cast two dice. Whatever the score on the dice would be the number of strokes that Margaret would receive in punishment for having misused her maid and betrayed her husband's trust. On the first night her cunt would be punished, on the second her tits and on the third, there would be a return to her beaten arse. For each of these three nights Su would sleep with David and Margaret would have the maid's quarters. From now onward, David would use Su sexually in whatever way he chose. There was no sign of assent or rebellion on the faces of either woman. Each just winced as she received a further stroke of the leather strap onto her burning tits. David returned the paddle to its hook. He told Margaret to clear the dinner things and wash up. Su was instructed to fetch him a drink and join him in the bedroom. David slept well that night. He was sated with drink and the earlier exertions so he did not engage in any vigorous fucking. He enjoyed the unfamiliar feel of the small lithe body next to him. He had her lick his arse for at least twenty minutes and then slipped his prick in her mouth before drifting off to sleep. Margaret fretted alone in the single bed that felt so small and unwelcoming. She was sore, humiliated and frightened at whether she had lost her husband. She thought too of the cunt whipping that she was going to get tomorrow. How many strokes would it be and what would he use? That was very worrying, but she knew that she could get through the beating. It was maintaining the love of David that really troubled her. o0-0o In the morning Margaret was awake very early,but she did not leave the servant room. After he got up, David went to her. He ordered her to her knees beside the bed, put his limp prick in her mouth and emptied the night contents of his bladder into her. Margaret managed to take it all without spill. Before leaving for work he instructed Margaret to remain unclothed and to do everything that she was instructed by Su. He had already told the maid that she would be in charge of the house for the day. The only constraint was that Margaret was to be kept out of sight of the children who would in any case be going to their nursery school. When David returned that evening he ate his meal and then put down a plate of leftovers on the floor for Margaret. She'd had nothing all day except a belly full of piss and she lapped up the food remnants eagerly. Having finished eating, David took himself a drink and relaxed in his favourite armchair until he was ready to go and deal with the women who were naked and ready for him in the bedroom. He picked up his dice and went to them, "Su take the dice and throw them onto the table." She threw the dice and they fell as five and four. "Very well then, nine strokes on the cunt for the cunt." He smiled as he spoke to Margaret. She didn't see love in the smile. Her cunt had been beaten before and she knew that it hurt terribly. She also knew that this time there was a greater feeling in the punishment than there had been previously and nine was a lot of strokes. The smile had a look of cruelty in it and she wondered what David would use to beat her. She did not have to wait. "For variety I think I will give this thrashing with three different tools." He took a flexible leather paddle from the rack. It was eighteen inches long, two inches wide and made of thick cowhide. A pattern was cut into the surface which went through into complete holes in places and elsewhere was just indented. The implement was stitched all round the edge with a thick thread. When used on the buttocks it left complex marks that changed as the colours developed. On cunt lips it would not be so likely to show the patterns. It would surely bring misery and tears streaked down Margaret's cheeks. He picked up the dice and strapped her down to the coffee table that was really a whipping bench. She was on her back. Head hanging down over one end and her cunt level with the other end. Her wrists were loosely cuffed together under the table and her ankles were secured to the legs beneath her arse. To finish off, he fixed a spreader between her knees. Picking up the paddle again, he pressed it to her face for her to kiss. David removed his clothes stood astride the immobilised body of his wife and brought down the paddle in a long, strong arc. The crack of the leather on the hairless cunt lips was followed immediately by a sharp scream before a trembling voice said "One Master." David looked at the brilliant red flesh where his paddle had fallen perfectly. He raised his arm and brought it down again even harder than the first time. She screamed again and only just managed to call out the count for the second stroke. Now the labia were very swollen and beginning to go purple. The third stroke, just as hard again caused spasms to run through Margaret as she sobbed and struggled to say the 'Three Master' that was required. David replaced the paddle on its rack, but rather than taking another implement he instructed Su to lie down over Margaret with her face to Margaret's burning cunt. He pushed two lube covered fingers into Su's arse and then fucked her anally just above Margaret's tear stained face. After about ten minutes of pumping the pretty little arse to his full depth, David withdrew and pushed his prick into Margaret's mouth. Vile though it was to take his prick straight from the arse of another woman, and her servant, the familiar presence of his prick in her throat gave Margaret a comfort that nobody else could know. She sucked and licked for all she was able, but before he came he withdrew. Su was instructed to get off and David returned to the rack where he took a riding crop. The next three strokes were delivered with the same force and accuracy as the first three. The crop fell just a little lighter than the paddle, but the pain was exquisite nonetheless. Each cut of the crop bit into the inflamed flesh. The leather flap at the end of the crop stamped a further flush on the livid skin. These three complete, David returned the crop to its rack and sent Su to collect him a drink and to bring two plugs of root ginger from the fridge. While she was away he stuck his rock hard prick into Margaret's scorching cunt and poked her a few times. He then went to her head and put his arse to her mouth for her to lick while he waited. Usually when Margaret licked his arse, he was fresh from the shower and tasting as clean as any other part of his body. Today he had been at work and now he had exerted himself so the hairy hole was sweaty. She nestled her nose in and pushed her tongue to his sphincter. When Su returned David pushed a large fig of the root ginger into Margaret's cunt and arse. She gasped at the intrusion and the terrible tenderness. He took two clamps from the tool rack and attached them to her swollen labia. Margaret bit her lip with pain as the clamps dug unto her flesh. The cords attached to the clamps he tied off on the knee cuffs of her spreader bar so that her cunt was gaping wide open showing its soft, pink interior and the yellow end of the ginger stuffed right inside. Next he took down a medium weight cane. With careful aim he caned her hard on the left cunt lip right where the clamp was fixed. The labia was pulled from the jaws of the clamp and it flew free to hang limp beneath her leg. Margaret's scream of pain was so intense that it made Su jump, but still she had enough composure to be able to say. "Seven Master." As soon as she was able. The next stroke of the cane with the skill and accuracy of much practice did the same to the right cunt lip as the previous had done to the left. When the stroke was called he positioned himself across her body again for the final blow. Right hand raised high he brought the cane down to inflict an angled welt from the top of her right labia to the bottom of the left. All three cane strokes had struck exactly as he intended onto the fleshy sensitive parts of his wif'e's cunt without risking damage to the clitoris and avoiding the heavy bruising that comes from a hard caning onto the pubic bone. With tears streaming and through deep sobs, Margaret managed to call the last stroke when her scream finally subsided. The terrible pain from her beating mixed strangely with the indescribable sensations of the ginger in her insides and she writhed in her bonds. David instructed Su to release her. As he left the room he gave Su permission to lick Margaret's cunt if she so wished, but the ginger was to stay in for thirty minutes when he would return. When David came back Margaret was still lying on the table. Su had been soothing her punished cunt with her tongue amid muttering apologies for having thrown such a high number although they both knew this was no fault of hers. Still Margaret lacked the strength to get up and any way she had not been told that she could. David simply told Su to kneel before him and fucked her face until he came a huge load in her mouth. He told her to show it to Margaret and him before swallowing it. He then sat Margaret up on the table and emptied his bladder into her mouth for the second time that day. Finally he allowed Su to help Margaret to bed in the same place as the previous night. -o0o- On the second night of punishment, Margaret only managed to walk into the bedroom slowly and painfully. She stood with her legs apart until it was time for her to kneel to receive David. Her day had been very similar to the previous one. First thing in the morning her husband had come to her and pissed the whole night's contents of his bladder into her mouth. He left the house in the control of Su and Margaret did little during the day. She was not fed. Su had slept with David and he used her much as he would have done his wife. He fucked her a little in the cunt or arse, but mostly he required her to lick his arse or take him in her mouth. He always came in her mouth or throat. Now they waited expectantly as Su threw the dice again. A three and a two. Margaret quietly allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She had taken many beatings on the tits and often there were more than five strokes. She could take it, but what would it be done with? David had her kneel. He secured her wrists firmly behind her and then tied her hair to her cuffs so the her head was tilted back. He took two strong elastic circles from the rack and forced one onto each tit so that they stood out very firmly and they immediately began to darken in colour. From the rack he selected a heavy leather flogger. It had a handle in the shape of a large dildo and about twenty thin leather bootlaces fixed in it. Each was around two feet long with a small silver tip on each one and a single knot at various distances from the end of the thong. He slipped the dildo handle into her mouth to let her know what she was about to receive and before starting the thrashing he pushed it down her throat and held it there for a few moments. Margaret gasped as the flogger was removed and already there were tears filling the corners of her eyes. David stepped back, raised his arm and brought it down hard on her right tit. The breast leapt wildly at the impact of the flogger and the purple flesh was immediately streaked with welts. The bruised flesh was covered in livid blotches caused by the silver tips and knots. Shame and Consequences Margaret managed to call "One Master." Through her sobs before David raised his arm again and brought the flogger down very hard on her left tit with the same effect. She screamed before calling out "Two Master." In a faltering voice. David replaced the flogger on its rack and selected a long school type cane. Without any hesitation he stood back, cast his eye to get a clear aim and brought the cane down just above the nipples of both breasts. Tears flew from her face as Margaret squealed and cried out 'three' as her head shook and her tits bounced in their elastic bonds. David lit a cigar and released Margaret's hair so that she could look forward. He sat down and ordered Su over to suck his prick. After a couple of minutes of cock sucking with Margaret watching her husband enjoying his maid rather than her, he ordered Margaret to get her face down and lick Su's arse. He continued to enjoy his cigar until he finally shot his load into Su's throat and he then secured Margaret's hair to her cuffs for the completion of her beating. He took a riding crop from the rack. Without hesitation, David raised the crop and brought it down very hard on the centre of her left tit. Margaret screamed. After a few seconds hesitation, she managed to call out "Four Master." In a faltering voice. The fifth and final blow fell immediately. Margaret, knowing the ordeal was finished, collapsed and just managed to call her final number amid a torrent of sobs and tears. David pulled the elastic from Margaret's tits and she screamed again as the blood flow returned. Turning from deep purple to bright red, the breasts swelled from their bruising and the marks became more raised. The beating was over for today. Committed once more to her servant's bed, Margaret contemplated her last night before her punishment was completed. She wondered what the score would be with the dice and speculated. What would she be beaten with? Would there be another, and further, act of humiliation? The next morning followed the routine to which she had become accustomed. She swallowed the bladder full of hot piss almost with gratitude. It confirmed that her husband had not given up on her. He was still using her in the way that he chose and the way which gave him pleasure. Sadly, she knew that he was also taking pleasure from Su and she feared that he may prefer her small young body. David told her nothing of what he had in store. When evening came, David rang ahead and informed his wife that they were to have guests. She would not be present at dinner and she was to wait naked in the bedroom until she was required. Su was instructed to prepare dinner for the Master and two guests which she would serve entirely naked. David arrived at his usual time and with him were two senior colleagues from his club. Margaret was already familiar with them because she had serviced them orally on a previous occasion, but now she did not know who to expect as she waited on her knees. The men took their time over dinner. They were relaxed and enjoying themselves. Su served an excellent meal and they touched her frequently as David had invited them to do. There was particular interest in running their fingers over the fading welts on her buttocks before slipping a couple of fingers into her sopping cunt. While they were eating, David explained that Margaret and Su had behaved unacceptably, but his wife bore the real responsibility as mistress of the house and she was now in the last stages of her punishment. The first time the men had met Margaret they had been astonished and delighted to find David offering her exquisite cock sucking skills to them and they were more than ready for a repeat performance. However, he made it quite clear that there was something different on offer tonight. They were to play a role in his wife's punishment and he promised that they would find it pleasurable although Margaret could not expect to enjoy herself. Once they had their cigar and brandy and the table was cleared away, Su was ordered to the bedroom and David invited his guests to remove their clothing and accompany him. Once there, David ordered Margaret to her feet and had her stand with legs apart and hands clasped behind her back. He then invited his friends to examine her punished tits and cunt. They were only too happy to run their hands over the bruises, slipping fingers into her damp cunt and running their touch round to the older welts on her arse. Margaret never uttered any sound or showed any reaction to this intrusion. David instructed Su to throw the dice. A six and a five. "Eleven." He called out and Margaret flinched a little. Her nipples hardened beneath the touch of her examiners. It was not because of their attentions, but the anticipation of a further eleven strokes on her recovering bottom. She would surely not be able to sit for a long time. David sent Su to get beers for himself and his guests and he invited each of the men to select a punishment instrument from the rack. Before they made their choice, David took down a severe nylon cane. Following the guide of his host, William selected a heavy rattan cane and George took a heavy leather paddle patterned with holes. Margaret saw what they had chosen and her apprehension increased. Each man took a large glass of beer from the tray as David explained that Margaret would adopt a position with her arse high and her forehead on the floor and each of them would apply one stroke in turn until the eleven were completed. If any of the strokes were not called, or the number called was incorrect, that stroke would not be counted. At a nod of David's head, Margaret adopted the required position and he delivered the first stroke. A loud 'crack' rang out and an angry red welt rose immediately across the centre of her buttocks. Margaret was determined not to scream in front of the guests and she stifled any sound as she drew a sharp intake of breath. "One Sir." She called out firmly and clearly. David indicated for George to come forward. The 'thwack' of the paddle was much less sharp than the cane and George may have applied a little less force than David. Even so. The red mark with its pattern of holes and the sharper cane stroke through its centre showed that she had received another painful assault. Another strong breath and she called out. "Two Sir." William positioned himself and took aim to hit a little lower, below the first strokes and closer to the tender thigh. Having seen the vigour of his host in punishing his wife and having examined the blows inflicted on her tits and cunt, William determined to give her the full force of his rattan. Margaret bit on her lower lip and panted quickly two or three times before she managed to utter. "Three Sir." But she did still manage to stay silent. The new welt was broader than that left by the nylon cane and you could see the variations where the natural material differed along its length unlike the plastic. David took a new glass of beer and drank deeply before applying his vicious cane again. Margaret sobbed a little, but succeeded in suppressing a scream. This time the mark was on a diagonal, like the bracing strut on a farm gate. With just a slight hesitation she called. "Four Sir." George emptied his first glass and accepted another from Su, but then before he went forward to administer the next stroke he said. "I'm sorry David, you must excuse me for a moment. I really need to pee before I can do another thing." He made to go to the bathroom, but David placed his hand on his shoulder and said: "No George. No need to leave us." He placed the tip of his cane under his wife's chin indicating to her to raise her head. Margaret realised immediately what was intended. She flushed bright red at this further humiliation despite having already been horribly exposed and degraded before these guests. What was now required of her left her without the slightest shred of dignity. However, there was no resisting it and she knelt upright, hands behind her back and mouth open ready to do her duty. "You see George. Your urinal is here for you and ready to provide first class service without you needing to walk a step. Go on, piss into her and if she should spill any you may have the pleasure of giving her the extra thrashing she has earned." George didn't move or speak. For a few moments he looked from Margaret to David and then back to Margaret. Without daring to move or say anything Margaret tried to show assent with her eyes and by attempting the merest of smiles with her open mouth. "Go on man. She's yours." Said David. "Come to think of it I could do with a piss myself." He edged in front of George, put his prick to Margaret's lips and waited. As his piss did not flow immediately she put her tongue forward and licked the hole in the end of his dick until it came. He gave her three or four mouthfuls before shaking his prick and she sucked off the final drops. "There you go old chap. Your turn. She is ready and working fine." George, still a little dazed, moved toward her and pointed his prick to her mouth. "Get in close there. Don't want a puddle on the floor do we?" He put it to her lips and as with her husband, Margaret licked his pee hole. A stream of piss began to flow into Margaret's mouth. David told George to hold it when her mouth was full. He looked down at the golden pool that had formed in the red lipsticked lips and gripped his dick, stopping the stream of piss. She closed her mouth and swallowed before opening up again. George resumed until he was looking down at another full mouth. She swallowed while looking up at George as she had been taught to do with David. George continued until he had given her six mouthfuls and his bladder was empty. Margaret said "Thank you Sir" And resumed her punishment position. George raised his paddle and gave her a good, strong stroke that struck an exact paddle width lower than his first. "Five Sir." Came the call. As William came forward he said. "Sorry everybody, but having seen you two guys and drinking all this beer I am just going to have to make myself more comfortable too." "Up." Called David and Margaret positioned herself instantly to provide urinal duties. "Do you think she can take another load?" Said William doubtfully. "Well she is going to." Replied David. William stood before the open mouth and put his prick to it. For a few moments he couldn't start, but with a little tongue stimulation his strong flow began. Margaret gulped down mouthful after mouthful as an astonishing amount of urine was passed into her. When he was almost complete, she coughed and spluttered with her mouth half full so that he had to stop and a little splashed onto William before she regained control and he was able to finish. David ordered her back to her punishment position and almost nonchalantly said: "That will be an additional two strokes of the cane on your belly for the disrespect to your guest." William flushed a little as he felt responsibility. He thought of saying that it wasn't her fault. Maybe he was pissing too much or too fast, but he said nothing. When he looked at David he simply received a gesture to get on with the punishment. Raising the cane above his shoulder, William brought down another hard stroke in the same place the paddle had struck. She flinched and made a tiny sound as she bit on her lip before calling out the 'six'. The men went through their next cycle and by that time Margaret's determination to withstand her torment in silent dignity was being broken. Tears streamed down her face, she was unable to suppress a constrained squeal at each new blow on her damaged buttocks and the pressure on her bladder was causing her to squirm in more discomfort on each new blow. For the tenth stroke, David positioned himself differently. He stood directly behind his wife, a little back from her widespread feet. Raising the thin nylon cane above his shoulder, he brought it down as hard as any of the previous strokes, but this time it struck vertically. Precisely between her buttocks, the crack of the instrument striking flesh was followed by Margaret's scream of pain as she felt the vicious torment of her anus burning. For a brief moment she sobbed and urine dribbled from her before she struggled to regain control and called out. "Eleven Sir." David, with a stern face, said. "My apologies gentlemen. My wife's indiscipline is uncharacteristic, but it will be corrected. Very well Margaret, stroke number ten which was incorrectly called will be applied again. For the disgraceful fouling of the carpet, our guests will each deliver one stroke of the crop to the underside of your breasts." Trembling Margaret said: "Please Sir. I know I must be punished however you decide, but please may I go to the toilet. I cannot hold on any longer." David did not reply, but he instructed Su to go to the kitchen and bring a large mixing bowl. Margaret remained in her punishment position and he stood behind her again. "Get the number right this time or we will continue with this stroke until you do." Again the plastic cane slashed down on her crack and Margaret screamed before calling out a quavering. "Ten Sir." "Well George. Over to you for the finale." Said David rather theatrically. A little hesitantly, George raised the paddle and thwacked it across Margaret's buttocks without quite the force that he had used before. Through sobs that had been continuous since her husband's last statement, Margaret correctly called out the final count and she was ordered to her feet. David told Su to give Margaret the bowl. "See how big her belly is." David said to the two men. And it was true that you could see a distinct difference due to the extent of her swollen bladder. David instructed her to spread her legs as wide as she could and hold the bowl between her legs from behind. This required Margaret to bend her knees a little and left her in a very odd position. "Take care not to drop the bowl and you may now pee." Said David. Almost as soon as the permission was given, Margaret let go a powerful stream of piss into the bowl and David brought down the cane on her full belly. Margaret winced and her piss stopped as she drew breath, but she held on to the bowl which already contained a lot of golden, steaming piss. After a few seconds she tightened her grip on the bowl and continued to relieve herself. Of course, this was followed by another stinging stroke of the cane. Margaret finished peeing and at almost the same moment it flashed through her mind that she had not called these punishments to her stomach. She had not been ordered to do so, but maybe she should have done. "Thank you for correcting my failure Master. May I put down my bowl please and may I be of further service?" David told her to put down the bowl and reminded her that she had not yet paid her full debt. He took down the riding crop from the rack and instructed Margaret to go and lie on her back on the blanket box. The men had their glasses filled by Su and then went over to where she lay with her legs spread as always. David ran his hand over her bruised sex. "Just feel this." He said to his friends. "She is sopping. My wife has taken a disreputable pleasure in your presence and assistance in her punishment and humiliation." He grinned and gestured the two men to come and feel her cunt. David stood astride Margaret's head and lowered his arse to her mouth. She probed her tongue into his arsehole without the need to be told and he took one nipple firmly in each hand after passing the crop to William. He pulled her tits up hard and asked William to give the right one a hard cut. Doing as he was bid, the guest applied the crop firmly to her lower breast. There was no audible reaction from Margaret, but she sucked on her husband's sphincter as the blow struck. William gave the crop to George who repeated the action on the other breast. "Thank you gentlemen. The task is done. I know that it has been arduous for you and you must be tired. We will now go and relax in the lounge, but before we go you may relieve yourselves in the preferred manner and my wife will wish to thank you by allowing you to discharge the tensions built up over the evening." Margaret was brought to her knees. William had a very stiff prick and David suggested that it might be best if he gave her a face fucking to get rid of that before taking a piss. William was only too happy to oblige. The other two men watched and sipped at their drinks while William used Margaret just as vigorously as David did himself. It didn't take William too long before he came and Margaret carefully sucked and licked him while he was softening. He said that he couldn't pee immediately so George moved straight in to give a similar throat fucking to the one he had just watched. Margaret was good at many things, but above all she was an expert at handling a prick in her mouth and swallowing cock. Over the years of her training by David she had come to love having her face fucked by him and now she knew that even with other men this felt like normality and it took her mind away from the awful beatings that she had been given. Before long George shot his load down Margaret's throat. David was not stiff because he was dying for a piss after all the beer he had drunk so he immediately replaced George at Margaret's mouth to wash down the cum with a long, long pee. The other two men followed him to empty their bladders again into the compliant woman. Margaret and her bowl were sent off to the bathroom and the men retired to the lounge where Su accompanied them. David and his friends put on their clothing and they discussed the events of the evening over a final drink while the still naked Su topped up snack bowls. There was now a bond between the three men which would never be broken. David rightly understood that as well as friendship, this would bring contacts and support that would benefit his business and prosperity far into the future. He was cementing not only his own and his wife's prosperity, but also providing a comfortable future for his children. Finally William and George went to their taxi, Su was discharged from her duties to her own room and David retired to bed. When he entered the bedroom he found his wife, still naked, on her knees at his side of the bed. David took her hair in his hand drew her face into his groin to kiss his balls and then raised her to her feet. He kissed her deeply and long on the lips with a passion that she did not often feel. "You realise that things have now changed very much." He said. "Yes Sir." "You will never again behave sexually with anybody without my knowledge or consent. Beyond that, I have now extended your availability to William and George. You will serve them in any way that they wish at any time of their choosing. Whenever I am away I may suggest that they make use of you and I will provide them with keys so that they can come at any time of their choosing. You will ensure that you are present and in proper condition to receive them." "Yes Sir." "Now that you have savoured the services of Su's tongue and paid the price, you may continue to have her service you in this way. However, you must report to me what you have done together on each occasion and I will now also use Su whenever and however I choose. "Yes Sir." With these new instructions complete, David threw back the bedding and lifted his wife into bed. In their embraces he felt all of her welts and swellings in loving massage. Fucking all of her holes, he came in her mouth three times before they both drifted off to sleep with his soft prick still in Margaret's warm mouth. She slept soundly that night with a warm glow and as she drifted into sleep she had sweet sensations of Su's soft, warm tongue in her sorely damaged bottom. Shame & Humiliation Joyce Carter and her daughters Laura & Janice had just finished the lovely lunch that the girls had treated their mother to in celebration of her 49th birthday. The day had been fabulous, all three laughing & joking, relaxed in each others company and helping each to momentarily hide the turmoil of their own private lives. Although Mother & daughters, sister & sister, had always been able to talk openly, honestly & very frankly to each other, each had a secret part to them that they preferred to keep privately unto themselves. Joyce, now at 49, was the picture of health, a stunning brunette who still turned many men's heads. Her daughters ensured that she was always up to date in the manner of her dress, fashionable but always in a chique and mature style. The three were of similar build, the girls taking after their mother in many ways but again each with their own distinctive individuality. Joyce stood 5'5" in her stockinged feet, her breasts were still firm, on account of her daily gym workout she convinced herself, yes a firm 36c, a little more around her waist than she's like being a 27" and her hips were a very sexy and mature 34". Joyce always wore stockings when out or dressing up, she enjoyed the sensation of silk French knickers rubbing, caressing her inner thighs as she walked. All in all a very sexy lady particularly for her age. Her husband, Terry, was a successful banker, the family wanted for nothing. Joyce had married him when they were both 22 years of age and had given birth to Laura a year later and to Janice a further two years on. Laura & Janice both married at the same age, 22, as their mother, Laura had now been married to Glen for 4 years and Janice to Colin for just about two years. The secret heartache that Joyce held within her was that despite the fact that Terry was a fantastic husband and father, a good provider and generally all round decent guy, he had not touched Joyce sexually in over four years. At first she told herself that this was little sacrifice for the stability he provided but deep down Joyce was a woman seething with unsatisfied passions. Laura was now 26 years old, an inch shorter than her mother, standing 5'4", a bubbly curvaceous brunette, taking after her mother in the hair department. Her breasts were similar to her mothers also, perhaps a bit firmer but still a 36c, 25" waist and 33" hips meant that she also attracted much attention from both men and women. Glen, her husband was a complete Jerk. He provided well enough for her and their twins but preferred the arms and bed of his cheap tart of a secretary rather than that of his wife. Laura knew all about his affair, he didn't exactly try to hide it, often coming home in the small hours wreaking of her cheap perfume and stinking of sex. Laura had long stopped crying herself to sleep over this and concentrated on her twins, Bobbie and Carly. Deep down however smouldered the yearnings of a deeply unloved, unsatisfied woman. Janice was the younger sister at 24, her breasts were larger than Mother or Sister being a very full 38d, perfectly in proportion were her 26" waist and 35" hips, her hair was very red , from her fathers Irish side and she stood the tallest of the three at 5'6". Her marriage to Colin was only two years old but was already on very unsteady ground. Janice was pregnant, only two months gone but already was facing the prospect of bringing a child into the world knowing that it's home environs would be far from domestic bliss. Colin liked sex and lots of it. Janice enjoyed sex but found it all too much one way for her liking. He would simply roll on and roll off having satisfied himself or having spent hours looking at porn on the net, would get Janice to take up some uncomfortable position that he'd taken a fancy to trying out. Often, of late, Colin had taken to telling her how much he would like to see her have sex with a well endowed black man, he'd describe in vivid detail what the negro could do to her as he would watch and masturbate. The whole thing was very off putting to Janice who now found the man she had loved a total turn off. The three had another thing in common, being religious they did not agree with divorce and adopted the old fashioned approach of having made their beds they would have to lay in them, each was a good wife and mother who deserved more. The day was warm, Joyce was wearing a simple white dress pulled in at the waist by a thick black patent leather belt, her sheer stockings were encased in expensive white stiletto's. Her long hair pulled back in a pony tail allowing her neck to take advantage of any breeze. Laura wore an expensive looking sheer white blouse, her half cup bra thrusting her breasts up and outwards could clearly be seen beneath, this was tucked smartly in to her black tailored trousers and her feet were adorned in a pair of red high heels. Laura's hair was pushed back and held in place by a red plastic band. The other daughter wore a tiny delicate camisole type top that struggled to contain her breasts, the slight breeze causing her nipples to become very prominent, in fact this young mother to be's body was a torrent of hormonal irrationality. Her skirt was a smart fashionable tartan style, wrap over and held with a pin. It was short, mid thigh and accentuated her long lithe legs that were clad in knee length black boots. Unbeknown to the three ladies a local thug by the name of Clyde had been watching them intently as they ate lunch, mentally undressing each of them as he enjoyed a beer across the road from where they ate. Clyde was not long out of prison for various demeanours and his body was coursing with lust. As the three left the restaurant and headed for Laura's black Audio 100 motor car Clyde followed almost cat like in pursuit. He phoned a few friends and arranged a rather hurried pick up, his lift arriving just in time to follow the ladies car. As Clyde thought, the Audi left town and was heading out into the countryside, he knew this road well and his plan was to get ahead of the Audi and force it off road about two miles on, at a place where he knew there was an outcrop of derelict farm buildings, a place which would serve his purposes adequately. The ladies were still laughing and joking and none of them noticed the Mercedes full of black men as it overtook them and sped off ahead. Laura looked a little startled when two miles on she saw the Mercedes blocking the road and a short thin black guy flagging her down, she assumed that there had been an accident and slowed to a stop to find out what was going on. The black guy approached the car and confirmed Laura and her family's suspicions, the three stating that they hoped no one was badly hurt. The negro kept them engaged for a few minutes, seemingly distraught about the horrible scenes that lay ahead of the bend in the road and telling them that it was far to gruesome for him to allow their eyes to befall it. As the little black guy kept the ladies engrossed with his tails of horror, Clyde and the other five black men were creeping up on the car, all of a sudden and in a whir of action the six forced the three ladies out of their car and four of them frog marched the girls across the field into one of the derelict buildings, the other two drove the cars into an old barn out of sight of the road. The ladies were shaking visibly, bewildered as to what was going on. No one spoke until all six of the negroes were inside. Joyce and her daughters huddled together on a well worn old brown leather sofa which was the only item of furniture in the room. "well, good afternoon ladies" Clyde said in a smarmy sort of way. "so, you what you ladies looking for on a nice day like today? Something special?" he grinned as he lewdly ran his hand over his bulging crotch. Joyce and the girls new instantly what fate had in store for them. "please don't hurt us" uttered a petrified Joyce "please just let my daughters go" "your daughters!" sneered Clyde "Mom & two daughters, well I never" he muttered to no one in particular. "come over here mummy" he ordered Joyce "NOW" he barked menacingly as Joyce did not respond to his first order. Joyce moved to ward's him. Four of the black men, who ranged in size from very large to large moved to surround Laura and Janice blocking any futile attempt they might try to make at breaking free. Clyde explained to the three that no one would come or hear should they decide to scream, and if they did as they were told they would soon be free to go....unharmed. Anything silly from any one of them and they would all die for sure. The ladies were terrified. Clyde put his hand on Joyce's shoulder from behind, Joyce shuddered. "lets put a little show on for the girls hey mum?" he told her The three were mortified, unable to speak, each struggling mentally to adapt to this horrific happening. Clyde moved slightly to the side of Joyce, his fingers gently tugged at the black belt that pulled her white dress into her waist. Slowly he unbuckled the belt until it fell free. Joyce shuddered again at the prospect of what this big black brute was about to do. "no" she whispered almost too low for any one too hear, her eyes too the floor. Clyde ran his finger up the front of the white dress lightly fingering the buttons as he went. At the top of her cleavage he suddenly popped the top button open. All three ladies gasped almost in unison at this direct sexual act. Clyde's fingers popped the second and the third and the fourth buttons, each popping being greeted with a further shudder from Joyce's body. Down down he went until the last button was released. Clyde whistled low, as did several of his comrades as he pushed the flimsy material of Joyce's dress apart and displayed the sight of her suspender belt around her waist, the silky white French knickers and the stockings that ran down her shapely legs. Her breasts were full and rounded encased in the white bra she wore but Clyde and his fellow cohorts could tell that they would be a real feast to savour. Laura and Janice were weeping openly at not only their own plight but the humiliation their Mother was being forced to endure. Clyde took Joyce's trembling tiny hand enclosing it firmly in his massive black one, gently he led her back to the sofa and sat her between her girls. Laura & Janice immediately tried to comfort their mother, each seeking solace from the others. Clyde knelt before Joyce and uttered softly "what a beautiful woman you are" "sexy too" he went on "you always dress like this?" he asked idly thumbing her suspender straps. Joyce didn't answer. Clyde suddenly turned his attention to Janice "man, you sure have got some rack there baby" he said looking straight at Janice's heaving chest. "take it off baby" he commanded as he toyed with the flimsy camisole like top. Janice was frozen with fear and could not move. "here, let me help you" Clyde spoke as his fingers gripped the bottom of her top and rose it up over her jutting breasts "no" Janice sobbed deeply as the garment was tahen over her head and tossed aside "mmmmmm" hummed Clyde as the half cup bra came into view. The tops of Janice's nipples were clear for everyone to see as the half cup pushed her breasts up and outwards, the peaks were stiff through a combination of cool air, freight and perhaps a hint of unrequited lust. Clyde slowly, gently lowered the half cup until her magnificent breasts were fully released, sitting, being supported by the bra which was tight underneath them now. Her nipples thrust obscenely from her large mammories, stiffening further as Clyde gently blew across her chest. Laura had begun to stare intently at the erotic scene being played out in front of her, almost forgetting the alarming situation the three were in. Secretly wishing that it were her breasts the men were admiring and not those of her sister, of course she would never have admitted this fact to anyone. Clyde leaned forward, cupping Janice's left breast as he softly closed his big rubbery lips around the swollen nipple, gently he sucked it into his mouth. Janice's eyes closed as a rush of sexual energy rushed through her. Laura felt her panties dampen at the sight, the huge stiff nipple of her sister seemed to be attached to her own body and she could almost feel the delicious soft tongue as it swirled around her sisters breast and sucked the stiff bud further into that cavernous black mouth. Joyce was mortified at the goings on and sat sobbing softly, eyes looking down, not wishing to see nor hear the sexual acts going on around her. Clyde stopped his arousal of Janice as soon as he had started, turning once again to Joyce. Janice felt empty, cheated for a moment, her body had started to respond involuntarily and now the bastard had stopped. Her chest heaved under her heavy breathing as she watched the nigger pull her mother forward slightly. He pushed Joyce's dress from her shoulders and quickly reached round to release her bra catch, it all happened very swiftly. Joyce now sat with her breasts jutting out, firmly, capped by two stiff peaks that were, like her daughters, painfully erect and extending someway from her breast flesh. Clyde immediately latched his mouth on to first one huge stiff bud and then the other. Laura squirmed visibly as her crotch felt a tingling excitement at this very sensual sight. Joyce slumped back as Clyde feasted on her globes, his mouth making obscene loud sucking noises as he plucked at her peaks with his lips, teasing the erect nipple further from her body. His hands ran up her thighs luxuriating in the feel of the silk French knickers, twanging the elastic of her suspenders. His hands ran the length of her stockinged legs, from knee to thigh, thigh to knee. Laura was mesmerised as her eyes watched transfixed as this giant black man lewdly caressed her mother before her. Her eyes darted to her mothers breast each time Clyde's mouth let out a sucking noise, each time seeing the huge stiff nipple being pulled back into his mouth. Janice still sobbed, trying to block out the terrible fate that her mother was enduring, knowing deep down that all three would soon be ravished by this big black brutes. Again Clyde stopped suddenly, and again his attentions returned to the large busted Janice. Laura was almost besides herself as her body was again ignored by this giant of a man, all her sexual frustrations were now being brought to the fore, her mind in turmoil as she first questioned herself mentally, why was she being ignored, was she really as undesirable as her husband made out, then striking these thoughts as she remembered that this was assault, rape, not what she wanted at all! Clyde was once more feasting at the breast of Janice, his huge black hands slid her short tartan skirt higher up her thighs. "Please, no, I'm pregnant" Janice uttered, pleading with her captor to release her from this hell. Clyde just smiled and looked deep into her eyes, his eyes and hers both filled with lust. Abruptly he stopped and rose to his feet. The three women looked up at him as he spoke "Ok ladies now its time to strip" he commanded None of the women moved. "NOW" he barked fiercely, jolting the ladies back to realism. The other men moved menacingly to the front as Clyde pulled the mother to her feet. Joyce's dress fell completely to the floor, her breasts swayed lightly as she moved, the stiff peaks of her nipples jutted out towards the six black men in front of her. Her lower half in those sheer stockings, the French knickers and suspenders. "Ok, mum, now drop them panties for my boys" Clyde leered "Unless you want your girls to suffer some real pain" he added. " no, no, please...please don't hurt them" she wept Her hands found the edge of her suspender belt and in one swift movement she pushed the garment, her knickers and stockings down to her knees. Reeling back she landed back on the sofa, knees together as she reached to remove the garments completely. "open wide" commanded Clyde as his foot pushed gently at her ankles. Joyce's face flushed deep red with embarrassment as her legs were forced to part. Several of the black guts whistled softly as her fanny was exposed, her pubic thatch was as brunette in colour as that on her head, the slit of her cunt could just about be seen. Clyde again knelt before her, this time between her out stretched legs. His huge black finger extended as he parted the hair on her pussy and ran it up the length of her slit. Joyce's labia parted easily, the juices that involuntarily started to flow from her insides as he'd previously feasted on her breasts, were now very evident. The black man's fingers probed further, forcing the labia to part further. His thumb rubbed softly over her very prominent clitoris, causing Joyce to inhale deeply. "nice pussy lady" he quipped before dipping forward to inhale her sexual aroma. Another huge black man dropped to his knees in front of Janice, his hands going quickly to the button on her skirt which he soon released, Janice lifted her buttocks compliantly as the brute removed the smart garment. It was plainly evident to all the black men once Janice's skirt was removed and through the sheer front of her white thong, that her pussy was completely bald, the thick hanging lips of her cunt strained against the flimsy material. Janice's captor pulled her thong tight up against her crotch forcing the material to part her labia, her love juice was flowing as freely as her mothers as the nigger see sawed the material up and down her slit several times before removing the thong completely. Laura looked across as her Sisters cunt lips protruded obscenely from her body, her inner lips hung down grotesquely puffed up, full of the blood that pumped furiously around her body. The negro bent forward and explored her cunt with his lips and tongue, lips running wildly up her slit and greedily feeding on her engorged clit. Janice's head went back as she struggled to not thrust her cunt harder onto her attackers face, trying to avoid the hugely tempting urge to impale herself on to his penetrating tongue. Clyde had released his massive black cock from his trousers and was now rubbing the huge weapon up against Joyce's slit. Laura watched, eyes filled with lust and wanting, as Clyde's massive organ with its huge bulbous head ran up and down her mothers soaking slit. The cock head was uncircumcised, the huge fold of skin that covered it was stretching further back across his mammoth glans with each stroke, his massive cock length now covered in pre cum and juice from her mothers cunt. Laura resisted the temptation to drop her hand to her crotch, fighting that urge, that need to satisfy her own lust, she couldn't let her Mother & Sister know how desperate she was for a cock to fill her ravenous cunt. Clyde continued toying with the Mothers cunt, bringing her feet up to rest on the edge of the sofa, pulling her knees forward then pushing them wide apart. Joyce's pink inner flesh was now completely exposed and extremely wet. As his huge black snake began it's entry into Joyce's body he turned to look deeply into Laura's lust filled eyes. His hand moved forward to cup Laura's heaving breast through her sheer blouse, finger and thumb tweaking the nipple, pulling, tugging on the peak which strained against the confines of her bra. "Take it off baby he whispered" Laura complied, hoping that she wasn't appearing to be too eager. With out prompting she removed her bra also and slid forward offering her creamy breasts to this monster of a man. She looked down as several inches of Clyde's huge black cock penetrated her mother, gasping as the angry organ withdrew then plunged back in. Joyce's body was beginning to thrust up to meet his, slowly her mind had given itself over to the pleasure he was inducing inside her. Shame & Humiliation Janice's attacker had similar plans and having licked her cunt to an earth shuddering orgasm was now feeding his thick black cock into her now very receptive vagina, sliding in to the hilt in one. Janice gasped loudly as he bottomed out, she could feel, for the first time in her life a male organ pressing against her cervix. Clyde's movements increased in pace inside the now gasping Joyce, her cunt lips gripped his cock and were being drawn obscenely out of her body with each outward stroke of this wonderful sexual organ. Laura's tailored trousers had disappeared along with her saturated knickers, a black guy had stood her up and was busily tongue fucking her tight un penetrated arse, Clyde fingered her cunt from the front, three fingers being buried in her as she thrust back and forth urgently seeking release. The small skinny black guy took out the most monstrous dick from his pants and standing on the edge of the sofa offered it to Laura's slutty mouth. Her tongue shot out and darted all round his huge knob head before sucking greedily at this monster of a cock. Gently she rocked, her mouth engorging more of the cock, her arse impaling itself on the tongue of the guy behind her and alternately grinding her crotch as she impaled herself on those three fingers of Clyde's. Her cunt was awash with pussy juice, Clyde's fingers soliciting obscene slurpy noises as the juices flooded over his fingers. Joyce came loudly just as Clyde deposited what seemed like gallons of sperm into her body, she felt every spurt of spunk as it shot from his cock like a fireman with a hose. Her body stiffened and then relaxed as his cock withdrew from her the mixed juices seeping from her cunt, trickling down to her anus and on to the sofa, she didn't move as Clyde stepped aside and another took his place, filling her instantly. Clyde's dick did not soften as he pulled Laura's face down onto it, bending her forward over the arm of the sofa, she stiffened and wanted to cry out as she felt her arse being penetrated. Her eyes bulged as she felt she would be split in two, the pain subside as he entered the void of her arse and began pumping his huge cock into her. Janice had cum several times with her attacker and like her mother was now being enjoyed by a second, her pregnant belly awash with black man's semen. The attack continued for several hours as each Blackman enjoyed the sloppy cunts of these three women, Laura openly, wantonly complying to every degrading act that her assailants wished to perform on her. Joyce had long given herself up to the ravages of these savages, and Janice knew now why her husband got so turned on by the thought of her enjoying a huge black cock, she would never be satisfied anymore with his feeble little dick. David's Gift It's years since David and I last went clubbing and it takes a few moments for my ears to adjust to the awful noise that seems to pass for dance music these days. As we step into the room, I'm hit with that same old familiar dance floor smell -- that mixture of booze and body odour that no one seems to notice whilst under the influence but could knock you out when you're sober. I guess some things never change. I take David's hand and lead him around the dance floor to the bar at the opposite side of the room. As I order our drinks he turns to me and smiles awkwardly. "I feel so old!" He laughs. "It's your birthday!" I reply. "You're supposed to feel old!" He doesn't look convinced. "Besides," I continue, "I brought you here for a reason." "What do you mean?" he asks, puzzled. I flash him my best mischievous grin. "Well, I guess you'll have to wait and see..." He looks at me questioningly but I leave it at that. Oh David, I think, if only you knew what I have in store! I'm going to give you an experience you'll never forget. But first I'm going to need a bit more of the old Dutch courage. I down the remainder of my drink in one and immediately order another. A new track kicks in and the club goes wild around me. I throw my hands up in the air and cheer out tipsily. Oh God I'm so wasted! I've not been on a night out in weeks and I intend to make the most of it. I feel someone's elbow in my ribs and spin around to see a pair of college guys dancing just behind me. One of them turns and smiles. He's cute and I smile back sweetly and step towards him, fluttering my eye lids innocently as I reach up and lift his bottle gently out of his hand. Once it's drained I hand him back the empty, mouth a quick "Thanks!" and turn away. Sorry boys, tonight's just about me and the girls! Speaking of, I wonder, where the hell are Rachel and Jess anyway? It must be twenty minutes since they went to go pee. I don't want to go looking for them in case they come back and find me gone, so I take another swing of my drink and try to enjoy myself. After thirty minutes and four rum and Cokes I'm starting to feel a little braver, so I begin scanning the room for a suitable target. It doesn't take long for me to notice the cute little brunette strutting around on the dance floor. She looks young, maybe nineteen or twenty, slim and pretty. Her long dark hair contrasts beautifully with her smooth, milky skin and her little blue dress she is sexy without being tacky. Even better, she seems to be alone. I point her out to David. "What do you think?" I ask him. "Isn't she pretty?" I can see the question makes him uncomfortable. "Um... I guess so," he says, "I prefer blondes." I laugh at his dumb attempt to reassure me and give him a peck on the cheek as thanks. "It's OK, honey, you can tell me. I think she's beautiful." I'm quiet for a few moments while I build the courage to utter my next words. "I think we should take her home." David's eyes almost pop out of his head. "What? You don't mean...?" "I'm serious honey. It's your fortieth birthday and I want to give you something you'll remember for the rest of your life. And besides," I drop my eyes to hide my embarrassment and can feel myself blushing, "it's kind of a fantasy of mine too. Sharing something new and exciting with the man I love. It's not like you'll be cheating on me. Let me do this for you. Please?" He just stares at me so I decide to take the bull by the horns. "You stay here." I hand him my empty glass, take a deep breath and make a beeline for the girl. One of the guys behind me bumps into me again and in my drunken state I stumble forward, spilling my drink down the front of my dress. "Mother fucker!" I spin around ready to let rip, only to find myself face to face with a tall blonde woman. "Oh God," she says, "I'm so sorry!" She looks genuinely mortified and my initial anger quickly fades. "It's ok. Really." I'm more embarrassed than anything and begin patting down the wet patches on my dress. The woman looks down at my empty glass, now rolling in a long arc across the floor. "Oh no, your drink!" She touches me on the forearm. "Please, let me buy you another." There's still no sign of Jess and Rach, and I'm down to my last $20, so I decide to take her up on the offer and follow her across to the bar. As we wait to be served I get a good look at her and notice how pretty she is. I'd guess she's in her mid-thirties but looks good for it -- a real classy lady with shoulder-length blonde hair and thick red lips. When she smiles her eyes light up and she looks 10 years younger. We chat for a while and when she tells me she likes my hair I smile and confess that it took me an hour of styling to make it look so good. I wouldn't normally be so candid with a stranger but she seems nice and there seems to be an easy rapport between us. So far, so good. Knocking into her on the dance floor was a risky tactic but it seems to have paid off. And I'm happy with my choice. She's had a little too much to drink but I can tell that she's the right type of girl -- flirty and friendly but not over-confident and probably not too experienced sexually. I don't want her outshining me in the bedroom! Over her shoulder I can see David watching us intently. I flash my eyes in the girl's direction as if to ask him "Do you like her?" David nods dumbly. Ok, I have his approval. Now it's time to begin my first attempt at seducing a girl. I take a deep breath and compose myself. "Do you want to dance?" I ask her. She smiles happily. "Sure!" I take her hand in mine and lead her back across the dance floor until we find a space of our own. Then we begin dancing as the track changes again. The music is awful, like all new dance music seems to be these days, but I'm not here to enjoy the playlist. I concentrate on the rhythm and on keeping up with her. Stepping towards her, I reach forward and place my hands on her waist. She responds in kind and I feel I small thrill when, a few moments later, her own hands slide down my dress and playfully come to rest on my ass. Her body is warm and soft and smells delicious. I spy David stood at the edge of the dance floor, eyes focussed on the young girl's little butt, outlined so beautifully through the tight fabric of her dress. I can't blame him, it's flawless. I remember being her age, when staying in shape came so effortlessly. Now I have to skip dessert and work out four times a week to keep my figure. When David finally looks up I catch his gaze, hold out my hand and beckon him over. We're still dancing when I see a man approaching. I begin to turn my back on him to show my disinterest when the woman taps me on the arm and leans in to talk to me. "It's OK," she says, pointing in the man's direction, "He's my husband." "Oh!" I laugh apologetically and turn to say hi as he joins us. He doesn't seem to be too offended and holds out a hand in greeting as we meet. Soon he's dancing too, although he moves awkwardly and I get the impression he hasn't been clubbing in a long time. I smile to encourage him and slowly he begins to visibly relax and enjoy himself. It's then that I notice the woman watching us, apparently fascinated. As first I assume she's jealous, but she doesn't look annoyed, only weirdly interested in how we interact. It seems to be going well but the girl still appears slightly wary of David. I suspect she's scared of upsetting me by giving him too much attention so I decide to help move things along. Slowly I circle around until the girl stands between the two of us. David takes the cue and moves in, dancing closer and closer until finally she bumps up against him. She looks back at him briefly, smiles and continues to dance as he matches her rhythm. After a couple of songs he puts his hands on her hips and she doesn't move away. Then the three of us dance together as one, the girl the delicious filling in our sandwich. A portent of things to come, I hope. Something hard begins to prod against the top of my butt and I almost laugh out loud when I realise what it is. Playfully I grind my ass back against him, feeling slightly guilty for my new friend but revelling in the sexual power I have over her husband. He's good looking - a little older than I'd go for but handsome, and he clearly works out. The bulge in his pants grows and as we move together I feel his hands move from my waist. Slowly they snake up the front of my dress, homing in on my tits and when they reach their goal he stops and begins to fondle me gently. I should stop him now but it still feels good and the woman doesn't seem to mind. I look around and see that no one is watching, so I just go with it. David plays with her pert little breasts, squeezing and groping them like he's just found his new favourite toy. They're smaller than mine, maybe a B-cup to my Ds, and I'm happy for him to enjoy the novelty for now. Before long her nipples become visible through the thin fabric of her dress and I find the sight excites far more than I expected. Something about the idea of her being aroused like this makes me giddy. At first I'm confused as to why I should suddenly feel so exhilarated but as she stands there, letting my husband manhandle her, I begin to realise what it is: Power. She didn't choose this, probably never would. I'm the one that found her, that delivered her into the hands of my darling husband. Something stirs within me at the thought and at that moment a stark, wonderful realisation hits me; I want to watch her fucked. Not in the warm, safe comfort of our bedroom as I planned but here, in this dingy little club, in front of all these people. She's such an innocent beauty. I want David to fuck the innocence right out of her. I imagine her laying naked and bound, powerless to resist while I make him ravage her over and over again. My mind begins to race with possibilities and, shaking with excitement, I take his left hand and guide it under the top of her dress. She flinches and moves to stop him so I grab her wrists and hold them firmly at my waist where they can't interfere. David doesn't need any more encouragement and soon both hands are in there, eagerly fondling her supple young tits. What started as a bit of flirty fun has suddenly become something much more serious. The man's warm hands roam freely under my dress, groping at me skin-on-skin. I want to escape, to pull away from his hands, but the woman holds me, penning me in and allowing him unrestricted access to my body. She looks on mischievously and mouths a reassuring "It's OK." My nipples have always been sensitive and when he pinches them gently, sending little jolts coursing through me, I feel myself beginning to melt at his touch. Oh God, he knows what he's doing! Without making any conscious decision to do so, I stop fighting. I watch her sweet little face as the last thoughts of resistance fade. Finally I feel her arms relax and a few moments later her fingers intertwine with mine. It's almost time. Tentatively I tilt my head forward towards her until our lips meet. She hesitates at first but I persist and eventually she begins to kiss me back. Her lips taste sweet as my tongue pushes past them into the warmth of her mouth to meet her own. With the girl distracted I place her hands at my waist and then reach around her, take hold of David's belt and tug it open. His cock is rock hard as I pull it out of his pants and I'm almost jealous of the oblivious young girl about to experience it for the first time. I know how good it feels, ramming into you again and again, filling you up until it becomes your whole universe. My own pussy begins to throb at the memory... I open my eyes and find David is staring at me over her shoulder, dumbfounded. I glare at him, trying to let my eyes do the talking. "Yes," they say, "I want you to do it. I want you to fuck her." To emphasise my point I grip his penis at the base and give it a couple of slow, purposeful tugs, pulling him closer and guiding him towards his prize. I see a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. We're still dancing, moving as one, two lovers and our unsuspecting victim. She's unable to escape; trapped between us and totally unaware of what's about to happen to her. I love it! Finally I slide a hand under the hem her dress and up the inside of her thighs until my fingers brush against the fine cotton of her panties. I'm pleased but not surprised to discover her pussy is practically steaming - hot and swollen, prepared for what her body craves. Prepared for sex. The woman's delicate fingers tug at the crotch of my panties and I feel them touch the outside of my pussy. Oh God, is she going to finger-bang me? Am I OK with that? I've never done more than kiss another girl but I find myself unexpectedly excited by the idea of her secretly frigging me while the rest of the club dances around us, unaware. It's so naughty! Heart racing, I prepare myself for my first lesbian experience. Instead the woman suddenly, takes hold of the waistband of my panties and pulls them down over my butt. It's then that I feel the tip of the man's cock pressing against my pussy lips. I realise too late what's happening and before I can move away he grips my hips, pushes forward and enters me. I'm so wet that he slides in without resistance and I can't help but gasp as his cock buries itself in me. My traitorous pussy opens to him, welcoming him in. And then he's fucking me. David starts off slowly, like he always does, giving her body time to adjust to his sudden, unexpected intrusion. She looks at me wide-eyed, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, unable to believe what is happening. Unable to believe what she is allowing to happen. I stay close to her, keeping her trapped, giving her an excuse to accept my husband's wondrous cock. After a minute or two the initial shock seems to fade and her breathing begins to change, from fast and panicky to the slow, deep breaths of a girl in the grip of desire. That's it, you dirty little bitch. Give yourself to me, let me ruin you. This isn't about David anymore. He's just the tool I'm using to play my game, to transform you - from the girl you are to the whore I know you can be. It's a side of my personality that I never even knew existed before tonight and I embrace it wholeheartedly. Oh God, am I really letting him do this? Fuck me? Here? I look around at the other clubbers, convinced someone will see. "It's OK," says the woman again. "No one's looking. Just enjoy it." With relief I see that she's right and, despite my misgivings, I begin to allow myself to enjoy the warm sensation of his cock moving inside me. How long is it since I last had sex? Six months? More? No wonder it feels so good... Slowly he pushes deeper and deeper into me and I close my eyes and spread me legs a little to make it more comfortable. Why would anyone be watching? I'm still sandwiched between the two of them, the true extent of my debauchery hidden to those around us. Three people, dancing together, nothing unusual about that... To my shame I realise I'm pushing back against him. I notice one of the clubbers nearby has stopped dancing to peer over in our direction so I take a step back to give him a better view of the girl. It takes him a second to process exactly what's going on but his face lights up when he realises what he's seeing. He begins alerting his friends and one by one they turn to watch the spectacle of the pretty young thing debasing herself on the dance floor. Of course, she's oblivious, losing herself in the heat of passion, and I take the opportunity to reach up and begin untying the halter neck of her dress. When the girl realises what I'm doing her eyes snap open and she moves to stop me but David reads the situation and reacts quickly, grabbing her arms and holding them firmly behind her back. She struggles to free herself as I continue working the knot loose but he is strong and holds her fast. The girl stares around helplessly, suddenly aware of her new audience and the knowledge that she's about to be revealed to them in all her shameful glory. When I finish with her dress I pause to savour the moment. "Ready?" I ask. "Wait!" she begs. "Please!" I give her an innocent, quizzical look as if I don't quite understand her concern. "But they all want to see?" "Oh God, p-please don't!" She gawks at me pleadingly, which makes it all the more satisfying when I release the dress and the top half falls away, exposing those gorgeous little tits for all to see. The onlookers cheer. She stares down at them, forlorn, like she's horrified to find they were always there, just waiting to show her up. "Oh no..." she murmurs delightfully, "No, no, no...!" I'm now surrounded by a small crowd of ten or fifteen people. I've never been an exhibitionist, never enjoyed public attention, and now I'm being forced to share with them the most shameful, degrading moment of my life. ***I've lost all control of the situation -- I'm an object, to be used and enjoyed by all I can do is accept his cock** More and more people turn to watch and in amongst the crowd I'm horrified to see the faces of Rachel and Jess. I want to scream at them. Now you decide to show up! Where were you twenty minutes ago?! They stare at me, half-smiling like they can't decide whether to be thrilled or appalled by what they're seeing. How must I look to them? Near naked and sweaty, allowing these two strangers to violate my body so publicly? I can't bear the shame and I drop my head to hide from their hungry eyes, but the woman won't allow it and grabs me by the hair to yank my head back up. "Don't hide that pretty face," she purrs. "I want everyone to see how much you're enjoying yourself." And the terrible thing is that part of me must still be enjoying it, because by now I'm having to bite my lip to stop myself crying out. When his cock begins jabbing against my g-spot the effort finally becomes too much and I let out a pathetic, high pitched yelp, like a dog, to the obvious amusement of both the woman and the crowd. Her body has already betrayed her but the girl's contorted face reveals the on-going struggle as shame and lust fight for control of her mind. Her wild eyes flash from me to the crowd, welling with hot tears that leave little black trails of mascara as they run down her blushing cheeks. It's beautiful. She still struggles occasionally but I hold her hair tightly, forcing her to face her captivated audience. Sorry little princess, there's no hiding from them now - they want so see your face as I break you. David rams her pussy over and over, fucking her like an animal. It's funny, I thought he'd be more reserved in front of all these people but actually he seems to be relishing it, spurred on by the ravenous baying of the crowd. Just when it seems he's about to explode inside her, he releases the girl's arms and withdraws. Suddenly finding herself unsupported, the girl stumbles forward and I use her hair to help her on her way, guiding her down until she lands heavily on all fours in the filth of the dance floor. Her little pussy points up at David invitingly and he wastes no time in following her down to the floor where he penetrates her for a second time, mounting her like the dog she is. Then he grabs her by the shoulders, pulling her onto him, and resumes fucking her, harder and deeper than ever. The girl cries out with a satisfying "URGH!" and it's impossible to tell whether it's through ecstasy, pain or despair. I suspect it's a mixture of all three but, whatever it is, more guttural noises follow with each mighty thrust of his cock, and the slap of her ass against his thighs becomes audible even over the blare of the music. David's Gift Just when it seems things can't possibly get worse I become aware of the orgasm building in me. No, my mind screams, this can't be happening! I can't come! Not here, not now! An orgasm should be an intimate, beautiful thing shared between two lovers in private. This is public. Demeaning. Filthy. If I come here, with all these strangers cheering me on, what does that make me? But I know it's just moments away. Sensing I'm close the woman crouches next to me, reaches between my legs, puts finger of her free hand against my clit and begins rubbing. "No!" I shake my head desperately, pleading with her to stop. Doesn't she understand? Can't she see I shouldn't be doing this? My legs begin to tremble and I whimper at the effort of holding back the impending orgasm. "Don't fight it," she grins. "They want to see you come! They want to see what a little tramp you are!" I grit my teeth, still fighting to hold it in. "Oh God!" I moan, "Oh God! Oh no!" It's no use. I'm going to come and I'm afraid that when I do I'll have to accept that this is what I am --a dirty, wanton slut who gets off on being sexually humiliated for the pleasure of others. The crowd goad me, willing me to fail and I know I won't disappoint them. With one last burst of sadism, the woman increases the pressure on my clit and the effort of fighting the inevitable finally becomes too much. "Come for me!" she commands. And, like a whore, I do. The girl's eyelids flutter sweetly to a close as the orgasm overwhelms her. In her moment of climax she looks defeated, a broken thing, unable to stop the waves of pleasure washing away what remains of her dignity. I imagine her tight little pussy squeezing David's cock, milking it with its glorious, involuntary contractions. Before long I hear the familiar grunt as he comes too, his fingers digging into her shoulders as he pumps her full of his delicious semen. Happy birthday, honey! They kneel in silence for a few moments as they each catch their breath. With the heat of the moment fading he begins to look slightly embarrassed but I smile reassuringly and nod my approval. Good boy, David. Oh my God, what have I done? I'm in shock. The man pulls out of me and I feel something warm trickle down my thigh. Feeling unsteady and with my pussy still twitching, I haul myself to my feet and begin brushing the filth from my knees and forearms. Ironically, the woman hands me my dress and helps me tie it at the neck and pull it back into place. As she does I see the dark liquor stain down the front and remember how we first met. It feels like an age ago. I look around at the delighted faces of the other clubbers and feel a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Everyone here knows what I've done. Rachel and Jess know. They'll tell everyone... tell them what a horrible, filthy slut I am... What do I do now? I can't stay here, not now they've all seen. As if in answer the woman holds out her hand and nods towards the exit. "Come on honey," she says, "I think we should go." What else can I do? She takes my outstretched hand gratefully and we make a quick exit from the club. As we hurry out I'm already planning our next adventure together. This is only the beginning.