1 comments/ 29785 views/ 4 favorites The Girls Home By: AaronAardvark A prelude Anita and Sarah had been great friends ever since schooldays, they'd had had a schoolgirl crush upon each other, long before they met their husbands, in fact before boys came along at all. Unlike most such pairings, theirs had endured and they still met up for a little womanly comforting from time to time. Over the years the comforting had expanded to encompass the exploration of their increasingly steamy fantasies: they wondered if other women shared their hidden desires but never dared to ask. Sarah had been rather down of late, her husband John's carnality had dwindled, gradually, from marginal to almost non-existent and recently, on top of everything else, he had discovered Jesus and sin. Anita knowing her friend's eclectic and not always run-of-the-mill tastes wanted to plan a delightful surprise for her friend to cheer her up but oh, to find something new that would really stoke Sarah's fires. They had indulged in and discovered a mutual love of role play and acted out their various twisted notions for a long time now, but oh for something different. Mistress and servant had been their first roles but they soon ran out of scenarios. Naughty school girl had been fun for a while, headmistress and contrite pupil had lasted longer and the costumes, all grey pleated skirts, stiff starched blouses, white knee socks and voluminous blue or white knickers, were more fun too and really made them feel naughty. Kinky Sarah had preferred socks and knickers whilst Anita opted for the more conventional thick, flesh-coloured stockings held up by suspenders over a bare, if hairy, bush. Then Anita introduced the most dangerous game of all, 'the penitent.' Here she had enlisted the assistance of her rather too enthusiastic, elderly, parish priest. The vividness of his fertile imagination soon became all too obvious as he first sustained and then inflated their perversity by demanding a series of extraordinarily humiliating acts of penance from the pair of them; his own confessions ought to have been interesting, lust and gluttony must have featured large but pride ought to have been included too. Anita racked her brains, a new angle, she needed a new angle. They'd covered, comprehensively, priest and nun, priest and mother-superior and even bishop and all powerful abbess during 'the penitent' phase. Anita smiled as she recollected some of the acts that 'Bishop Herodious' had been oblige to perform, at the direction of the Abess of Pussrun in order to ensure the complete reformation of their truly repentant, but extraordinarily misguided, sinner. Best of all she recollected poor Sarah scrubbing the stone flagstones of the narthex of his church, on her hands and knees, wearing a chemise which only just managed to cover her bare sex and naked bottom when she was standing up. Even Anita, unsure of her faith as she was, was pleased to discover that the vestibule of the church was screened from the alter; in darker moments she wondered if the old and compliant priest would have been as equally fastidious. Triumph at last, Anita solved her problem, she took out her sewing box, unfolded her sewing machine and after she had invited Sarah to join her for the weekend, leaving all her inhibitions at home, she began to cut, pin and stitch the new costume. Anita had dreamt up a cocktail whose effects even she could not be sure of but she knew it would be potent, more Long Island Iced tea than Manhattan. She, Anita, was to be Miss Gorgon, an elderly spinster who directed a Glaswegian, Roman Catholic, reformatory for wayward girls set, in all probability in the nineteen fifties or nineteen sixties. Sarah was to be their latest charge, undergoing her induction and inspection by the church board. A board who would explore fully and then review in their entirety the c omplete depths of Sarah's depravities. All, of course, in order to reveal to her, her total lack of self control and also to teach her to be ashamed of her openly wanton and highly lascivious ways. But rather than dissect the minutiae of Anita's planning, we should study its results, by relating the experiences of the most fortunate, or most unfortunate, Sarah. Sarah, forty, plump with generous busts and wide hips was not used to complying with commands barked at her sharply; not even from her co-conspirator and slightly younger friend, Anita. From the moment of her arrival at the house that evening Sarah felt wrong footed. "What a singularly useless specimen they've sent us this time! Remove that appalling apparel immediately, you look like a street whore. Don't just stand there girl, get a move on, strip you little tart!" What sort of greeting was that from your best friend? And she had taken a lot of trouble to try to please her friend. Sarah was dressed in a delicate, yet slinky, cream, silk blouse, presenting just enough cleavage to ensure that anyone who saw would discern that the breasts it so elegantly concealed were large, soft and sensuous. Her bright red skirt hung only just above her knees, with thighs like hers, if you wanted to look sexy, it was better to conceal than reveal. Her suspenders and bra were also bright red, but these were well hidden beneath her costume. Her black stockings and heels were sensual but, for a woman of forty, not tarty so there was no way that anyone, Anita included, could have realised that she had rejected wearing black, lace trimmed, seductive silk briefs in favour of no panties at all. Sarah was indignant, she knew that she bore no resemblance to a common street whore whatsoever. Sarah was also not thinking; well her husband was driving her insane. Never one for pushing the boat out in bed, let alone; rowing in the kitchen, sailing in the dining room, floating in the lounge or being becalmed in the bathroom: he had become even more sexually conservative of late, obsessed with lust and maintaining a lack of it. His 'born again' obsessions had already transformed 'making love' into 'marital duties' and, given that 'his wife was entering the twilight of her fertility', had increasingly justified, at least to himself, that resisting the temptation of carnality was godly. Pragmatic Sarah, true no theological expert, simply employed common sense; God had seen fit to endow the sexual organs of devoted husbands and wives with an enormous capacity for demonstrating their understanding of the wants, needs and desires of their partners; such a magnanimous gift ought to be explored and exploited to the full, not questioned. Pragmatic Sarah had also resigned herself to the fact that indulging Anita in her fantasies and perversions was a whole lot more fun than following the staid and stolid ideas of her boring husband, even if this was rather naughty of her, and the very occasional real infidelities that her roles had demanded of her did give her an occasional twinge of guilt; but then, 'no pain, no gain'. Sarah attempted to protest but the moment she opened her mouth her friend became wholly overbearing, "strip you worthless slattern, undress this instant or face the punishments of this institution; painful, protracted, subtle, severe and utterly memorable." Sarah noticed that Anita's garb matched her tone: a calf length, shapeless, grey woollen skirt whose only ornament was a simple broad black belt; drab nylons, flat black, lace-up, masculine shoes and a crisp cream blouse fastened at the collar with a simple gold pin, she'd even put her hair up in a tight bun, not at all her usual style, closer to her nun outfit, in fact. 'OK' Sarah thought to herself, 'role playing it is; but did Anita have to be quite so dominant, her friend Anita knew that she, Sarah, was having a hard time of things, she needed bouquets not brickbats.' Sarah hesitated and Anita drew a leather strap from its place, hanging over her leather belt, an evil looking thing with one end divided into two. She ordered Sarah to stand up straight and hold out her hand and when she did so Anita delivered a single stinging blow that was intensely painful. Sarah, winced and resigned herself to obedience, her friend had never introduced an element of violence before. "Now child strip naked or you'll get another five of those and then I'll call my assistants, have them hold you down and undress you by force; I might even let them poke and prod your blubbery bits. Nervous of where Anita was taking this and massaging her sore palm the now somewhat scared Sarah quickly did as she had been bidden. In truth Anita was rather concerned about how much that strap had appeared to have hurt her friend. She had researched her role thoroughly and discovered that, in bygone days, the tawse was a common instrument of discipline in Scottish schools and had procured one; she had never considered just how effective it might be. "Now here's your uniform". First, Anita unwound a long, roll of solid white webbing, about an inch and a quarter wide. She hung the middle of the ribbon over the back of her friend's neck, pulled an end over each of her shoulders and made a cross by passing the left strap under her friend's buxom right breast and the right strap under her fleshy left breast, looped it once around her back, twice around her waist and tied it off. "You're a big lass, but bras are too expensive." She had transformed the webbing into a makeshift bra that gave Sarah enough support to prevent her from unsightly sagging but did nothing to cover her big red teats and their encircling, light brown, areolae. Anita knelt, and bid Sarah step into a voluminous pair of soft, white cotton knickers that she was holding open for her. For a woman of forty they were pathetically childish in design and correspondingly humiliating, not things to be seen in, in addition to the usual stretchy waist, the leg holes were also elasticated; Sarah blushed as she pondered upon who Anita was going to force her to parade herself before, modelling those dreadful pants. "Any stains on those and you'll catch a good dose of the belt on both your bare buttocks and between those fat, wobbly white thighs of yours" and Anita pinched the fleshy part on the inside of one of Sarah's thighs, just hard enough to make her start and wince. Underwear completed, Anita handed Sarah her masterpiece. Anita was an excellent seamstress and this was a triumphal creation; she made no effort to conceal her pride. Initially Sarah mistook the garment for a simple white smock but quickly realised that it had been designed by the devil herself. The skirt of the garment, which belled out over her broad hips, did not even reach the middle of her thighs, exposing a great deal of soft, pneumatic skin. The fabric of the skirt was a soft, white, densely woven yet surprisingly light, cotton. There was plenty of material in that skirt too; so much that, whenever Sarah moved, the skirt had a tendency to ride up her hips, flare out and then parachute down slowly on a cushion of trapped air, flashing an even greater extent of her thighs in the process. Indeed, if Sarah moved too suddenly you would be given an eye watering glimpse of those distressingly childish, white cotton panties. The waist of the smock was elasticised and set high, immediately below the Sarah's ample bosoms. The back of the short bodice was also elasticised pulling the front, which was made of a double layer of soft cheese cloth, tightly across Sarah's large breasts. The material was sufficiently dense to conceal her rather dark areolea but, combined with that ingenious webbing-bra, whenever Sarah's nipples stiffened, even in the slightest, their state of excitement was instantly be obvious to all and sundry. That smock's sole purpose was to make the wearer squirm with embarrassment as it defeated their attempts to maintain dignity, composure and modesty; and the underwear complimented it perfectly. As soon as she looked in the full length mirror, Sarah's nipples stood out like tiny thimbles and Anita's intense, gaze fixed upon the marvellous effects that her new creation had produced made Sarah blush. "That's your uniform. Keep it spotless. At least it's easy to go the toilet in. Now give me a twirl let's make sure it fits properly." Sarah did as she was bidden, caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and felt a lump fall in the pit of her stomach, you certainly could see those hateful knickers if she moved too quickly. Moreover, the tightly stretched bodice actually exaggerated the size of her bust and the cut of the skirt made her hips look even wider. At least Sarah was relieved to discover that with such apparently generous breasts and broad hips they drew attention away rather her rather too round and prominent waistline. Anita completed the little girl lost look by fixing Sarah's hair in bunches. Sarah inspected herself once more in the full length mirror and was startled. She was a forty odd year old, married, woman posing in the outfit of a girlish waif and she looked comical. She thought, 'I'm clearly asking for it,' and her sex became just a little slippery as she wondered who Anita had chosen to make the demands that were inevitable. "Now, Miss James, that is your name isn't it?" "Yes miss," Sarah answered in a humble tone. "It's nearly lights out in this establishment and as a special treat I have decided that you can administer my nightly sleeping draught. Of late I have found it hard to nod off and have discovered that my charges can assist me in finding repose in the embrace of fair Morpheus." Sarah was baffled, Anita didn't inject drugs surely? "Come follow me." And she led a puzzeled Sarah, or rather a complicit Miss James, to her bedroom. "First you must help me undress." 'This is more like it,' thought Sarah and she unbuttoned her friend's blouse to reveal an old white long line bra that reached almost to her naval, washed to a pale grey and reflected, 'when Anita played a role she played it to the hilt'. Sarah did wonder where on Earth Anita had found such a well used bra. She spotted a hanger on the back of the door and fitted the blouse over it carefully. Sarah knelt, leant forwards, pushing her rump as high in the air as she could, hoping that Anita could see her panties, unlaced Anita's clumpy shoes and helped her out of them. Sarah straightened up but remained kneeling so she could unbuckled the belt, releasing that hated strap, which Anita placed on a bedside table. Sarah unbuttoned the fastening of the long grey skirt and drew it down. What a sight. Under the skirt Anita was supporting those thick, flesh toned nylon stockings with a long white girdle that possessed no less than eight straps each of which was fitted with metal fastener over a pair of white, washed grey, sloggi maxi briefs. Once the skirt was removed Sarah slowly unclipped the stockings, whilst secretly huffing hot breath onto the thin strip of skin that was exposed to excite her friend. She peeled the stockings down Anita's legs very gently; mindful of her friend's mood and love of accuracy she was in no doubt whatsoever that if she laddered a stocking she would be thrashed with that terrible strap. 'That,' Sarah reflected, 'was the problem with Anita, once a fantasy had started she was quickly carried away by it, wholly absorbed in her role and Anita was an excellent actress.' For example, Anita could cry at will and Sarah was both ashamed of, and exhilarated by, the feeling of power that always swept through her when, as part of one of their games where she had to deliver a 'good talking to' it inevitably resulted in hysterical, chest heaving, sobbing from Anita whilst the tears streamed down her cheeks. Stockings gone, Sarah unhooked first the bra, then the girdle and, finally tugged down the briefs, leaving Anita naked. "You may kiss me child." Sarah made to kiss her friend upon the lips but was interrupted, rudely, "don't be so presumptuous and impertinent girl. Here!" And Anita grabbed one of the bunches and tugged, directing Sarah's puckered lips towards one of her nipples. Sarah understood and gladly sucked, licked and gently nibbled each of her friends teats, giving them equal turns of attention, and they soon responded by becoming as swollen and distended as her own. "Now child for my medication. I will get into bed and you will lift the blankets at the foot, crawl under them and up between my legs until you can lick my sex; which is exactly what you will continue to do, until I inform you that you have dissipated all of my tensions. Do you understand?" "Yes miss." thinking, 'sex at last,' Sarah looked forwards to her turn. "Please miss might I be permitted to remove my smock?" delivered in a perfect weak and chastened tone; Sarah was now also becoming subsumed by her role. Sarah licked and sucked and, sometimes, fingered her sensuous and sensitive friend almost to the point of oblivion. Anita's sighs and cries of passion rose rapidly to a, rather, noisy crescendo but then only subsided slowly as she enjoyed a train of heavenly climaxes; her friend had, after all, had a lot of practice. Unbeknown to Sarah, her anticipation of favours returned had caused a large, dark, wet, stain to form in the gusset of her, otherwise, pure white knickers. Anita had anticipated this when she designed the costume and sketched out her terrible script; but her suspicions about the effectiveness of that tawse stayed her hand. "Child I am finally limp with pleasure, you performed well but, before I repose in slumber, I must show you to your cell." She directed Sarah to her tiny box room, which Sarah had never entered before. Today, at least, it was Spartan; Anita had even removed the carpet to expose the cold, hard, wooden floor. Specifically, there was a narrow brass bedstead with its head set against the middle of one wall, covered by a thin mattress, that Sarah recognised as Anita's old Futon. At its foot, neatly folded, was a single, thin, grey blanket. Next to it a plain wooden stool with a large, old-fashioned, school hand bell resting upon it. Against another wall there was a simple stand, really a shelf on legs. Upon that were placed; two large bowls, a very large pitcher and two soft flannels. Hanging from a rail suspended below the shelf was a small, course, towel. In a corner, and this puzzled Sarah the most, there was a galvanized tin bucket covered by a thick piece of wood. "I will undress you." Sarah was relieved by this simple statement, she was not sure that she could unknot that strange webbing-bra on her own. After Anita had rendered Sarah naked, her stern demeanour returned. "Well girl, if you wish to get through the night without shaming yourself utterly you must pee." Sarah started for the bathroom but Anita restrained her, "You are not contaminating my bathroom with your smelly piddle, there is a perfectly good bucket there, use it!" This too was a new kink; she, Sarah was going to have to piss, into a bucket with Anita looking on; and for the third time that evening Sarah blushed. Anita, who did not miss this, was delighted; she was increasing Sarah's tolerance of humiliation up by, at least, a notch which, given the arrangements she had made for the morrow, was essential. For her fantasy to be successful it required absolute compliance from Sarah. Sarah squatted over the bucket and gradually relaxed sufficiently to allow a stream of urine to tinkle, dreadfully noisily, against the base. Once she had voided her bladder she looked around for toilet tissue, knowing that there was none. "Please miss, is there any paper?" "You think institutions like mine have money to flush down the toilet? Wash your intimate parts using the bowl on the right, pat yourself dry with the towel, then wash you hands in the bowl on the left, tip the water away into the bucket and don't forget to rinse those bowls clean." Whilst the room was warm, the water was icy cold, making Sarah shiver. She cleaned herself carefully, she did not want to give Anita an excuse to avoid letting her, in her turn, come; Sarah's servicing of her friend had left her very excited indeed. Anita had a gradual way of love making that built your first orgasm very slowly, ensuring that when, at last it did happen, it was an event; hitting you like a train, then blowing you away like a feather in gale; a feather that promptly smacked into another train, etc.. She lay upon the thin mattress, on her back. "Left hand please." Sara extended her left hand and Anita bound it to the bed head. The Girls Home Sarah responded with goosebumps, 'oh goody,' she thought to herself, 'Anita is really going to tease me first, I wonder if she will make me beg her for release and if there'll be a filthy forfeit to pay. It was a game they had played before, first they dreamed up a disgusting, depraved or humiliating forfeit, then one of them was tied up and teased. If the one being teased begged for orgasm before time was up she was allowed release but then had to carry out the forfeit: but if she could last, the teaser had to give the teased all the pleasure that she demanded, in any manner that she craved, and then undertake whatever terrible task had been agreed upon. Sarah's juices resumed their flow as Anita slowly licked her all over, pressing her tongue hard against Sarah's soft podgy flesh. Sarah bound naked and spread-eagled on her back could do nothing but close her eyes and enjoy the sensations suffusing through her tender skin. Anita started on Sarah's, less sensitive, left side sucking each of her fingers in turn. Next, she made quick, hot sucky kisses on the back of Sarah's hand, then licked the palms. Hand finished she gradually worked up Sarah's left arm in a similar manner, drawing the skin into her mouth where it was less sensitive and, sometimes, biting it, normally gently but giving the occasional nip that made poor Sarah grimace. The sensitive flesh on the inside of the limb she simply licked. Sarah's pussy began to secrete more copiously now as the only partially-predictable pattern of stimulation unfolded. Shoulders followed arms and Anita worked gradually downwards until she was teasing Sarah's breasts just above the nipples, in response their areolae shrivelled and darkened, and their teats reddened, stiffened and distended. 'Excellent,' thought Anita, 'I didn't even have to touch them. I wonder just how wet she is?' but she knew better than to touch just yet. Sarah began to breath deeply and audibly now, Anita had reached her ears and neck. Anita spent a long time on these and Sarah's pussy began to make little squelchy sounds as it pumped out thick, slick feminine moisture. In her head Sarah was already begging Anita to get a move on, nibbling her earlobes really had the most alarming effects on her pussy. Anita attacked Sarah's face proper with gusto, she knew this always made her friend squirm. To initiate the proceedings she first kissed her friend's eyelids. After that she popped a sour lemon sweet in her mouth, she need lots of saliva for the next phase. As she salivated she licked her friend's forehead backwards and forwards, leaving a thick trail of sugary spittle behind, a progression that only dried slowly. Next came cheeks and chin, particularly the soft sensitive skin under the chin, everywhere left glistening and glinting. Now the nose, there is something horribly, and impersonally, invasive about another licking your nose and then taking the end in their mouth and sucking on the tip, lapping their tongue around your nostrils. For Sarah the oddly intimate act caused those shivery goosebumps to return and she began to be aware of the drops of moisture gliding slowly down the crack of her bottom. Anita had discarded the sweet and was using her friend's nose as a dummy, in order to work up a generous supply of fresh saliva. Once Anita had accumulated sufficient of that most primitive of digestive juices, she pressed her finger and thumb against her friends cheeks gradually forcing her mouth open and slowly drooled her accumulation of spittle into the open orifice, onto the tongue below. Sarah grimaced and, reflexly, tried to twist away but her friend, expecting this, held her cheeks most firmly leading Sarah to dissolve in emotion as she experienced the impact of that embarrassingly intimate, and intensely humiliating, act of having someone dribble into your mouth. She felt debased yet, simultaneously, overpoweringly excited and knew that even one single really gentle touch applied to her clitoris would trigger the most enormous orgasm, instantaneously. Sarah was silently pleading, 'touch me Anita, knead my clit, finger my hot wet slippery sex, lick my slick, slithery, slot; just give me release from this agony of anticipation.' Sarah opened her eyes, everything had stopped. As she did Anita glued her lips to Sarah's and began a long passionate kiss that ended with Anita grasping Sarah's tongue between her teeth and refusing to let go. Her eventual release was equally unexpected and once more all sensation ceased for Sarah, except for a steady trickle of the outpourings of her hot sex as they dribbled their way down the division of her already sticky bottom. 'Oh God no,' thought Sarah as she felt a mouth suck upon her toes, 'Anita is only just starting on my legs, there's ages to go until I get to come.' Feet first, all sucking and no licking there, Anita did not want to break the spell by tickling her friend's overly sensitive feet, not today anyway. Plump calves followed by juicy thighs with a garnish of knees, all were lovingly given their fair share of attention. At last Anita's probing tongue reached the join between Sarah's sex and her legs and that is where Anita stopped. 'Lick my slit, lick my slit you scheming bitch,' Sarah's head rang but still she maintained her silence. Sarah tugged convulsively at her restraints, Anita was wiggling her tongue in her navel, and it almost tickled but didn't quite; it certainly made the mouth of Sarah's sex flex and bubble, as both women could clearly hear. Soon the artful Anita had Sarah bucking her hips and bum in frustration, as she sought to mitigate the exotic and erotic sensations emanating from that strange combination of teased belly button and her demanding pussy. Anita was no fool and decided to skip the belly, and body of the breasts, part of her usual routine. Instead she went directly to nipples taking a stiff and distended teat between her lips and sucking causing. This resulted in Sarah to fighting her tethers in earnest. She was arching her back and twisting her torso as much as she was able, which was not a great deal. Anita grinned, for she knew that, that was Sarah's less sensitive nipple. When Anita did suck on Sarah's more sensitive nipple things definitely developed. Until then, whilst Sarah's breathing had been somewhat irregular, she had mostly been mewing and cooing with pleasure, Anita had extracted the odd sharp intake of breath and the occasional grunt of delight but on the whole her chum had remained relatively placid. The sensation of a simple pair of lips and inquisitive tongue upon that plumped up, expectant, blood suffused, teat changed everything. A loud ragged hiss issued from Sarah's lips as she sucked in air between clenched teeth, followed by a loud, gagged half-sigh, half-moan as she expelled the breath. Anita knew that she was really getting to Sarah now and wished, with all her heart, that she could feel the wetness of her friend's sex but, she also realised that this would probably over-stimulate her helpless partner and induce a massive orgasm which, at that moment, was not at all what she had planned. She sucked and licked that sensitive swollen nub, running her tongue over it, across it, swirling it around it and, every now and then, applied an increasingly forceful nip with her teeth. Sarah was now panting and sighing quite nosily, those naughty nips at first caused simple sharp intakes of breath which gradually changed to whistles of discomfort and then outright, ooches and ouches of mild pain. After extracting a particularly sharp grunt Anita switched her focus back to the other nipple. Sarah knew she was losing control. Her nipples were exceptionally sensitive tonight and Anita was playing them as a maestro upon their favourite instrument, which, in truth, is exactly what was happening. Pleasure and discomfort, even slight pain were diffusing into one another in a blend that was confusing but extraordinarily stimulating. Sarah had really made an effort to suppress her lustful sighs but she could maintain her composure no longer. She could have kept calm, if only Anita would stop nipping her nipples like that; true, it hurt for a brief moment, making it easier to keep silent for that instant, but immediately after the intensity of sensation utterly displaced her composure and expelled her self-control. Soon Sarah knew she would be broken, she'd beg and plead for release; promise anything in exchange for an orgasm. Anita, periodically switching between nipples, was equally aware that Sarah was losing all her inhibitions and gauged that, to further her state of abandonment, it was time to start the delicate titillation of her friend's pussy. She slipped her head between those soft plump thighs and gently prised Sarah's sex apart, conscious that the slightest misjudgement on her part would induce a massive orgasm; the exact reverse of what she had planned. She was torturing her friend with lust that was becoming all-consuming and - unlike the professional inquisitor, who hopes to discover the truth - this torturer wanted to extract a confession of the most pure fantasy, a disclosure of secret debaucheries that were intended to placate and please, here veracity was irrelevant: tomorrow her friend would be called upon to demonstrate the truthfulness of her confessions, so the wilder, the more extreme, extraordinary and implausible, the better. Anita gave a truly professional performance. Alternating between the pair, she sucked upon the fleshy, curling, outer lips of Sarah's saturated sex; noting, idly, that the futon cover would most definitely have to be washed as the dark stain below her friend's bottom was huge. Sarah's response was frantic, her buttocks drumming upon the mattress, her breathing an erratic medley of cut-off pants and sudden sharp cries, accompanied by struggles that were determined yet frustrated by the bonds that kept her spread eagled and totally vulnerable. 'Had Sarah forgotten? ' Anita pondered, 'there could be worse than this'. When, the truly over-stimulated, Sarah began to feel Anita's tongue licking the little strip of flesh between her vagina and anus she too recalled there was worse. Once randy, this simple manoeuvre could drive her insane. Sarah capitulated, she was defeated, beaten, broken. "Please let me come, please make me come. Please, please. Oh just let me come. Make me come." All rasped out in jerks when the heaving of Sarah's panting chest would permit her to emit any sort of coherent utterance at all. "Anything you want, anything you ask, if I can just come. Anything at all, I promise, anything; let's do the strap-on, we can use the strap on, me first though, fuck me with that thick dong." Anita knew that Sarah hated the very concept of a strap-on and had only ever agreed to use it after she had been teased beyond all endurance; never before had Sarah been the first to suggest its use." Anita piled on the pressure, "later, can I fit the little dildo and take you in the arse?" "No! Oh, please not that, please not that. If you let me come, oh you can do it." Of course this was all punctuated with moans and gasps and sighs as helpless Sarah fought for breath, utterly powerless to prevent the never-ending torment radiating from her treacherous groin, whose undiminishing sensitivity had focused her attentions single mindedly on her need for her sexual frustration to be released by the bliss of being devoured by an orgasm. "What must I do? Please! Tell me! How do I make you stop?" Anita ignored these questions and slid a cruel finger into Sarah's gushing sex, an articulated dildo which, instead of delivering release by probing the upper wall, added to the torment by pressing upon, the less sensitive, lower wall; so Sarah could feel she was being fingered but was deriving insufficient extra excitement to induce that all important climax. Anita, unexpectedly, blew a jet of air onto Sarah's clitoris and she responded by screaming out loud with frustration. "Let me come and you can fuck me in the arse with the strap-on." "But I don't want to do that tonight, so I don't need to let you come. Let's see," Anita teased, by pretending to pause for thought. "Confess to a really, really naughty thing that you've done and I'll ease up a little but should your confidences become at all dull, I'll start up again." Anita resumed the licking and fingering, concentrating on all the less sensitive areas of Sarah's vulva and vagina, worse she snaked a hand up her friend's body and began to massage her nipples with rolls and tweaks and twists that delivered an excruciating pleasure. Sarah fought to concentrate. "I once did it with two men," Anita hesitated but quickly continued her teasing, "three big hairy men," Anita did not even bother to pause. "Five big hairy men," Anita delayed but then resumed her stimulation. "Five big hairy men and a hairy little dwarf." Anita stopped, her attention arrested by that pleonastic dwarf. "They stripped me, then I sat opposite them with my legs splayed wide apart and played with my nipples and fingered my pussy until I was good and juicy, ready to take six stiff cocks. Whilst I put on this demeaning little show they watched me as they disrobed; I giggled, because this display demonstrated that men can multi-task even if, in all probability, only when thinking with their pricks. When they were all stark naked and I was good and lubricated, they stood in a line and I had to kneel before each of them, in turn, and suck his cock until his knees began to soften or he began to groan with anticipation. To help me along I was allowed to tickle their balls. Of course when I reached the end of the line the first man, the dwarf, wanted another little exciter and, in the end, I had to traverse that expectant line of men thrice before all six were desperate for action. At that juncture, I draped myself over a coffee table and they took it in turns to shaft me vigorously, doggy style." Sarah was overjoyed, Anita has started to lick her clitoris and pinch her nipples at the same time. She felt her orgasm build but her climax was scream out with rage and frustration. Having returned Sarah to the pinnacle of preparedness, Anita had resumed her remorseless teasing, concentrating upon less sensitive parts to hold Sarah balanced upon the cusp of orgasm. "There was more. More happened that day, I know that you have not confessed everything. Tell me what happened next." Sarah in her near delirious state was finding it very hard to think and had to endure a further, hip bucking, back arching, five minutes of writhing, and howling with desperation, until she concocted a continuation. "Yes. Yes there was more." Sarah almost sobbed. Anita paused expectantly. "We could all hear the fourth man coming to a climax, he was both long and thick and I could really feel him inside of me, pounding away. And he was so very vocal, grunting like an animal. The dwarf stood in front of me, his cock glistening with his seed and my juices, semi-erect. 'Suck me hard,' he demanded, 'I want second's of your pudding.' So I took that limp salty cock in my mouth and sucked it stiff. Of course when he prepared to take seconds everyone else wanted more and so, for a while, as one fucked me I had to suck another hard. I didn't notice the man with the smallest member hang back and had long since lost count of how many times I was shafted. In fact some may have taken third, and even fourth, helpings I would not have noticed. Anyway there came a point where they were all spent. They now insisted that I had to have an orgasm but I explained that I was a little sore for that. The men went into a huddle, then one asked if I had a vibrator. I had as it happened and he told me to fetch it. When I returned he checked the battery was good, which it was and they sat me in an arm chair with my legs splayed over the arms. Two of the men began to suck and lick my nipples which soon had me grinding my bum against the seat and panting gently. Two more took my ears between their lips and nibbled the lobes, my deep breaths and little pants turned into moans and my pussy began to flex and bubble. One brave sole began to lick my clit into a more prominent state and with those five mouths working away I was soon groaning and crying with lust and desire. The four working on my breasts ears and neck continued but each took a limb and held me down very firmly. The fifth held the lips of my sex apart, set the vibrator on full and pressed it to my clit. Almost instantly my head exploded in mental display of fireworks, whizzes, flashes and bangs were going off all over the place. Then the long juddering screams began. The interval between climaxes was growing and betwixt them my over-sensitised clitoris was relaying frantic messages of neither pleasure nor pain but signals of an agonizing intensity to my brain; feelings so severe that I could not have borne them had I not been held down so firmly. After one particularly loud cry of joy in response to having yet another climax forced from my poor pussy they relented and stopped." I was exhausted, limp as a wet rag, sweaty, dishevelled and stinking of sex. The chair cushion below my bum was soaked with a huge dark patch. 'Now one final act and we are done,' one of the men said. 'More,' I enquired querulously, 'but I am utterly done and very sore.' 'You don't have to do any thing and your pussy can rest, Jack here is going to come in your bum.' 'But...' 'You might as well relax and enjoy, you can't stop us.' 'Please no. Not that, I've never done that, never-ever. I didn't sign up for that!' 'Oh but you did. Lucky Jack she's a virgin, so best be slow and gentle. We picked Jack 'cause you looked tight and he's the smallest of us. You promised us that you would do anything, that you offered to us all of your body and it listed specifically; hands, feet, mouth, pussy and your arse.' And I had too. Signing that pledge and following it through was a penance imposed by Father Trelawny for excessive lust, I was to experience the consequences of my sins from the other side, I was to be a victim who was to be greatly used and much abused. Thus far my penance had been a very dirty adventure with lashings of the delicious thrill of humiliation, especially having to suck all those cocks, equally well coated with their semen and my own juices; but this. I groaned but acquiesced, I had, after all promised. I stood up and one of the men took my place, 'this must be Jack' I thought, his penis was indeed of only modest size. He bent me over his lap, spread my cheeks and applied some gooey stuff to my tightly clenched, puckered, little rear hole. I squealed sharply as he slid a finger though the sphincter, gently lubricating and enlarging the orifice. He retracted the digit and then once again pushed against my resistance until he achieved penetrated to the depth of his knuckle. He continued to repeat this manoeuvre until I learned to relax and accepted his probing finger without resistance. Whilst I was beetroot red with the shame of having all these men watch one of their number slide his finger in and out of my bum hole; I understood that he was doing me a favour really, making sure that I could accept his rather fatter member without pain. I was adjudged ready and to start the proceedings had to kneel before Jack and suck his tool until it was ripe and rampant. I stood up, he fully retracted his foreskin and two of the men lifted me up, forming a chair with their arms. With my back to Jack. they carefully lowered me until his helmet rested against my tight sphincter and then gradually eased me down onto the shaft. I was less uncomfortable than I expected but then sensation was so intimate. They were not yet done, not by half. When Jack was clearly inside of me one of the men spread the lips of my pussy and very carefully slipped two fingers into the tunnel of my sex. A fifth man grabbed my hair and tugged my head up facing the front, the one holding my sex apart tickled a foot gently, I giggled and that bloody dwarf took a photograph of the whole thing. I went scarlet, from the roots of my hair to the tops of my nipples, and the little sod took another one; that was the picture they really wanted. Me, visibly displaying abject humiliation, a cock clearly in my arse, nipples with dark, crinkled areolae and distended, reddened teats, yet wearing a stupid grin of apparent pleasure on my face, which was in clear view; depicting me obviously enjoying the services of a large group of men. The Girls Home My final degradation was that Jack was allowed to bugger me. But for the act proper he laid me over the coffee table once more. He went slowly and carefully with long steady strokes and the others clapped and jeered and offered obscene pieces of advice. I did not think he would be able to manage to come but after a couple of minutes I heard the grunts of a man too far gone to restrain himself for long. His strokes became shallower and more rapid, his breathing more staccato. Suddenly, he thrust as deep as he could inside of me and performed a series of short erratic jerks whilst grunting noisily. Then he withdrew, carefully That bloody dwarf, he was insatiable, he wanted a turn in my bum too but the others explained firmly that enough was enough and that I had fulfilled my obligations." Story completed, Anita once more resumed licking Sarah's clitoris, pinching her nipples and now fingering her bottom. With a feeling of déjà vu Sarah felt her orgasm build until, yet again, Anita caused her to scream out with rage and frustration and toyed with her less sensitive parts. 'Oh God thought poor Sarah how long is she going to tease me for.' Mind you with arching her back, hissing and puffing, and straining against her fetters, this single thought took quite a while. Finally, Anita stopped. Paradoxically Sarah immediately resumed begging and pleading, "don't stop, for pities sake don't stop now. I'm on fire, I'm burning. You've got to let me come. Got to, got to. Got to!" really pleading, almost sobbing. Anita ignored this. She fixed a new length of cord around one of Sarah's knees and loosely tied it to the bed then in a succession of slackenings, tightenings, untyings and retyings she shifted her friend comfortably onto one side, threw the blanket over her and tucked it round her naked form carefully. "Ring the bell if you need to pee, but wake me up unnecessarily and you'll really suffer," and with this admonishment Anita turned out the light, bade her friend 'sweet dreams' and left closing the door behind her. As she walked down to her own room she heard a hysterical but muffled voice crying "No! No! No!" Eventually Sarah relaxed a little and examined her state. She could move her arms quite a bit but not reach any knots with her fingers; more to the point she could not possibly touch her aching, sodden pussy. Worse, because one knee was tethered to the bed and both ankles secured well apart she could not gain relief by squeezing her plump thighs together; she had had many a delightful secret orgasm that way. Her most naughty were to be had sitting next to John on a train; she'd fixate on a handsome young man elsewhere in the carriage and daydream as she secretly squeezed and wriggled her way to orgasm. She wiggled her hips now, as violently as she could and discovered a new difficulty; if she wriggled too hard that caused the rough woollen blanket to scratch against her swollen and sensitive nipples making the demands of her sex more urgent than ever. Sarah resigned herself, Anita had thought of everything all she could do was get comfortable, lie as still as she possibly could and try to obtain a good night's sleep; tomorrow would be more intense.