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The Loop

By: ratdog



Her raspy voice did not fit her 18 year old body. Perfect skin and private school poise made her seem more mature than she was. Her mother would be bringing her to the local university next week my niece told me. Emmy was a stunner in any generation. 

She asked why my wife had not come with me on this trip. I had said "for medical reasons," but later on she was more prying. I had not sensed a girl flirting in some time. I was feeling my dick growing on its own. 

Emmy adjusted my collar and smelled my shirt. "You smell like the beach," she said. She cupped my crotch and said, "I know that your wife is ill and I can keep a secret." At 42 years old, I was stunned. My niece had caught me jerking off and told Emmy that I had a huge dick. Emmy said that if I could "eat pussy," I was "in" when she got to school. I said, "Let's see." 

We went out onto the piazza. The house looked over the St. Louis Country Club and no lights were on. She climbed up on the garden wall and pulled her white dress up to her waist. Her cunt was clean shaven and her tanned skin glowed in the din of the moon. She smelled like high school and I was transported. Her pussy was so small. My tongue was almost too wide to get inside of her. I kept a slow steady pace and could feel her tensing. She started shaking like she was having a seizure. She was pulling my hair and kicking me.

"FUCK ME," she said. "I thought that I would wait, but you need to fuck me right now." I dropped my jeans and slid her onto my 9 inch prick. She was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Her legs went around me and her nails dug into my back. Her size 2 body was assaulting me. Blonde hair was everywhere and her sweat was universal. I thought my dick was going to puncture her stomach. Suddenly, her eyes rolled up into her head. In a second, she was back. With my cock full of cum, she pulled off of me and bent over the wall.

"Fuck my ass. Stick that dick right up my ass and don't stop until I pass out." I fucked her ass like I was going to die tomorrow. Tight and hot and I reached around and put my fingers in her cunt. Again, she went crazy. BUT, this time I hung in there. I fucked her ass like a cave man. Her dress was nearly over her head and pulled out when I came. It was with such force that my cum shot up her back into her hair. "BOOM," she said.

She went inside. She arrived here with her mom almost four months ago. She became the social director for her sorority and was to hire a Santa Claus for their "Sisters Only" Christmas Party. Naturally, I agreed to do it for free.

The girls get pretty hammered at this party. Exams are over and it is the last time they will see each other for a month. Gag gifts are the rule and the stories that go along with them will make Santa blush. Emmy has a great story about fucking an older guy.

The Party was well underway when I arrived. Santa may be old, but Santa ain't stupid. Drunk college chicks began sitting on my lap and their friends were giving them dildos as gifts and reciting their sex exploits. I had removed the zipper from the Santa suit and replaced it with one button in case things went well.

Emmy sat on my lap. Her "big sister" Katy started detailing Emmy's older guy and although she had not seen his face, she had seen him fucking Emmy over the arm of the couch in the TV room. "He has a gigantic thingy and I know I saw a few gray hairs on it." With that, she pulled out a foot long rubber dildo with gray hair glued to the base of it.

Several girls went "Ewwww, disgusting"-. Katy had a pretty good buzz going and out of nowhere pulled up her skirt. "I am gonna see what this baby can do." Leaning on a chair, Katy started fucking the dildo. Girls were shouting, "Go,Go,Go." Some of the other vibrators were being pulled out as Katy started to come. Gift lubes and oils were being rubbed on every girl in the room and to my surprise no one left.

Emmy suddenly opened Santa's fly and with that my larger and harder than normal friend stuck his big head out. Emmy began to suck it hard. She is small. Five-one and 102 lbs. My dick looks enormous in her little body. Girls stared and started stripping. Santa Claus was alone with almost one hundred bare-ass college girls and in perfect form.

The chair they had me use was an old recliner. Emmy popped the handle and I fell back under the weight of the Santa suit and stomach. She pulled up her skirt and stepped over my head. I pulled her hips down and buried my tongue in her hairless cunt. My fake beard was still on as Emmy rocked on my face like a rodeo rider. Katy called "dibs" and pushed a younger girl out of the way and started sucking my cock. In about ten seconds she stopped and then sank it into her twenty year old Cherokee/Italian pussy.

Some girls started screaming, "I want to fuck Santa Claus and I want Santa to lick my cunt." Emmy came like a hurricane and grabbed a freshman named Megan and sat her on my face. Megan smelled like cotton and baby powder. Katy was killing my dick and then screamed and fell over. Sweat was everywhere and another girl pulled her off of my still magnificent pole. Katy lay on the floor panting and naked.

Another pussy impaled itself on Santa. Megan, meanwhile had come in my mouth and had pulled up the beard and was sticking her tongue down my throat. Bubblegum Lip gloss and pussy juice - it was heaven. Emmy had strapped on a dildo and started fucking Megan from behind as she kissed me. That led to Katy getting up and putting the footlong dildo into the ass of the girl I was now fucking, Jordan. Jordan went berserk. She orgasmed into the New Year. Santa came with Jordan and just before Megan did again.

One of the girls had been given some tablets of Viagra to give her tiny peckered boyfriend as a joke. She brought one over to me and said, "You're gonna need this tonight Santa."

Emmy and I got married 4 years after when I became a widow. I may not have screwed every girl in that room, but I know I had my tongue in the rest at least once. I still have the Santa suit, but before our first Christmas Party as husband and wife, Emmy sewed the fly shut.

The Loophole - A Halloween Story



Couple's contract with The Fallen One comes due on Halloween.

A thousand year old contract between an apparently middle-aged couple and The Fallen One has come due. But their manservant thinks he knows a way to escape the terms of the contract. 

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Fred Whetherington held the stiff piece of parchment lightly in his hand as he drank his morning coffee. His wife, Willie, sat across the table from him sipping a glass of juice. His voice was calm as he said, "This was on my pillow this morning when I awoke."

She smiled and replied lightly, "He does like the dramatic touches, doesn't he?"

Fred laughed slightly. "At least he didn't do the full flash of fire and puff of smoke thing this time."

"Last time he did that," Willie bristled, "it scorched the carpet. And it took forever to get the sulfur smell out of the house."

"He once told me that he doesn't like the smell of brimstone any more than we do," Fred added with another slight laugh, "but he has to use it to keep up his image."

A long pause followed before Fred continued. He held up the stiff paper that was still curled slightly from having been rolled up. The heavy wax of a broken seal hung on the back of the upper edge, pulling it slightly back. "This is official notice that the term of our agreement is upon us. Do you want me to read it to you?"

"He expects you to, doesn't he?" was her only response.

"It says," he continued as he read the fancy script on the page in front of him, "'Be it known by all concerned that on this first day of October in the twelve thousand and thirty-ninth year since the great fall and rise of myself, the term of one thousand earthly years having passed, I hereby invoke the completion clause to the contract which exists between myself and Frederick and Wilhelmina Whetherington.'"

"Notice that he uses our current names and the modern calendar," Fred commented before continuing. "It goes on, 'This constitutes thirty days notice that on or before midnight of October thirty-first of this year, also known as Halloween, the aforementioned couple's bodies and souls will be due and collectable. Said bodies and souls are to be brought to the place agreed upon through future missives and presented to me for transfer into Hell. I hereby swear, vow, and affirm that I have fulfilled my portion of the referenced contract and have provided wealth, life, and sustenance as well as the originally-specified unlimited sexual power and opportunity for the term of said contract and now claim the payment agreed upon at the signing of that document.'"

He took a sip of his coffee. "If he always spoke like that, it's no wonder that The Benevolent One kicked him out of the upper abode," he said.

"I guess no one has ever liked lawyers," Willie responded. "Is there any way around it, honey?"

After another sip of coffee, Frederick replied, "Sorry, I don't see any way out of it. It was nice while it lasted, but the agreement itself is very specific. After one thousand years, we are to be conducted into the depths of Hell."

"Maybe we can find an escape clause," she said. "You, yourself, have been a lawyer many times, off and on, in the past thousand years. You know that no contract is unbreakable. There is always a way out."

"The contract isn't the main problem," he said. "It never is. People think having an iron-clad contract will get it done, but do you realize how many times through the years, because of some insignificant loophole, I have been able to reverse things and weasel out of something while still legally fulfilling the exact wording of the contract."

"Ah yes," Willie answered with a laugh. "I particularly liked that time that your construction company built a tunnel between that town's two defensive castles. The contract specifically said that it was to stretch from beneath the moat of the high castle to beneath the moat of the low castle."

She laughed again. "It never said anything about actually going under the walls of either castle itself. The mayor and council were royally pissed about having to pay extra for all that support structure in the tunnels to safely go beneath the walls. But you showed them clearly that you had fulfilled the terms of the contract as they had written it, and that the additional construction was at their expense."

"But this isn't castle walls," Fred replied. "This is hell, and that is precisely the problem. It is iron clad that we are to enter hell. And there is, unfortunately, no way out of hell, once you have entered,"

"That isn't totally true, m'Lord," a deep voice said from behind them.

"Maxwell," Fred said cheerfully. "I didn't hear you come in. How much did you overhear?"

"Enough m'Lord," he answered. "It sounds as if your contract with The Fallen One has come due. I assume that means that your contract with me and Marta will also come to an end."

"I'm afraid so," said Fred. "But all you had to promise in return for a long and comfortable life was your faithful service to Willie and me, so it's a little different for you. After we're gone, you and Marta will begin aging normally once again and will eventually die. But The Fallen One won't have any claim on your souls."

"If you read your contract very carefully-- which I have-- " Maxwell continued in his very precise way of speaking, "you will see that he doesn't actually have any claim on your souls either."

"What do you mean?" asked Wilhelmina "The wording is specific and unbreakable. On Halloween, sometime before midnight, we are to enter Hell, and once we have entered, there is no return."

"Back when you first revealed your powers to me and Marta, m'Lord, Florence was the economic power of the world. We entered your service there. Do you not remember that very interesting writer by the name of Durante degli Alighieri whom you often invited to your parties?"

When both Fred and Willie looked back at him with confused faces, he added, "He is better remembered by his nickname, 'Dante.'"

"Ah yes," replied Fred. "He was always going on and on about that book he was working on about his journey through Hell."

"Precisely, m'Lord," said Maxwell. "His journey THROUGH hell."

"Dante went through hell and came out on the other side!" both Fred and Willie shouted together. "There has to be an escape clause."

"I'm sure The Fallen One has changed the wording since Dante let that little piece of information out of the bag, so to speak," Maxwell said, "but your contract pre-dates him by almost four hundred years. The loophole is still in place. All you have to do is go through the proper levels of hell and emerge on the other side. When you do so, you will have fulfilled your contract to the letter, but will have escaped Hell, itself. I'm not sure if the wealth, life, and all of that will continue as before, but the worst case would be that we would all age normally after you complete the journey."

"One problem," Willie said dejectedly. "One very big problem. Dante's book was fiction. He never really went to-- or through-- Hell."

"But he had stumbled onto the truth," Maxwell responded with a raised hand and a slightly raised voice. He pointed his extended finger at Willie as he continued, "And  THAT is what is important. Do you not remember the night when HE showed up in the middle of one of your dinner parties in Venice."

"Ah yes," said Fred, "half of the guests jumped into the canal when he suddenly appeared in a thunderous flash of light. The rest ran into the inner courtyard and barricaded themselves there until the next morning."

"Not all of them," corrected Maxwell. "You and m'Lady just stood there looking very, very upset that your dinner party was ruined. And one guest ran screaming upstairs to the bedrooms seeking a place to hide. The Fallen One followed that guest upstairs and had a very heated discussion about the possible costs of revealing secrets of the nether realm."

A heavily-accented voice interrupted his story with, "... and I was upstairs getting the guest rooms ready at the time."

"Marta heard everything," Maxwell continued. "The Fallen One was extremely upset that Dante had guessed a secret weakness of Hell-- or at least of The Fallen One's contracts. He held him up against the wall and snarled, 'I'm not sure how much you know and how much you have accidentally guessed, but I am going to explain to you EXACTLY how Hell works. And if your final book is anywhere close to that, or reveals more than you have already said, I will send my minions to tear you limb from limb and eat your flesh for as long as you still live..." The Fallen One's eyes became pools of flame at this point as he said in an icy staccato, "... and - I - can - make - you - live - FOREVER!'"

Marta again interrupted, "Evidently the real escape path only exists on the night of the completion of the contract. Or maybe it is only open on that night each year when the veil between this world and the nether world is the thinnest. It doesn't matter which is correct because your contract happens to end on the night of the thinnest veil. So, in either case, the escape route will be open for you this Halloween night when your contract fulfills and you are to enter Hell."

Maxwell interrupted his wife and said, almost showing excitement in his voice, "The journey itself, like Dante's final book, is metaphoric, but the levels are not. Despite what Dante wrote, there are only seven-- like there are only seven deadly sins. All that is required is for a person to sequentially go through the seven levels of a particular sin between dark and midnight and they can escape Hell forever-- at least under the terms of your current contract. Since your contract dealt primarily with sexuality, all you have to do is go through-- or at least witness-- all seven levels of sexual sin before midnight."

"In other words," Willie chirped, "we have to have one hell of a Halloween night in order to stay out of hell."

She laughed slightly and added, "Even if it doesn't work, we'll go out with a bang."

Maxwell coughed and said in a somewhat embarrassed tone of voice. "Uh... yes m'Lady. That is one way of looking at it."

"But I've never heard of seven levels of sexual sin," said Fred. "How will we know what to do, and in what order?"

"We've done a little research over the years," said Marta. "We've had the time. And we knew this day would eventually come."

"And?" said Wilhelmina.

"And I will guide you through the seven levels of sexual sin," replied Maxwell. He was actually starting to sound more pompous than usual. "It has to be done in front of at least a double-double coven of witnesses, so you need to invite forty-eight or more of your friends who will stay all the way through until midnight."

"Do they have to be invited?" Willie asked. "Friends might leave early. They sometimes do, you know. Perhaps street rabble would be better. If we pay someone to stay, they will remain until they get their money."

"Perhaps, m'Lady, you should do both," intoned Maxwell. "Invite your friends, but make it worth their while to stay until the stroke of midnight. And invite some of the rabble of the street. We will also need some unwilling participants in our little journey through sexual hell... unless you want to use some of your friends for that."

"That might be interesting," laughed Willie, "but I think it might be safer to use the street rabble."

"Then I believe it is time to prepare a little parchment of our own," Fred said slowly as he pushed back his chair and stood next to the table. As he began walking toward his den, he added, "Maxwell, would you please help me prepare the invitations? We are going to invite thirty of our friends to a Halloween orgy they will never forget."

He laughed-- it was not a pleasant laugh. Then he said, "And we can forget about rounding up street rabble. I think I can come up with another list of at least thirty enemies who pretend to be my friends whom I would love to have experience our evening. Fifteen couples who are friends and fifteen who are actually enemies would give us a total of sixty people. That should supply the needed numbers actually attending."

The invitations went out the next day. Fred and Willie were known for their lavish-- and decadent-- parties, so the invitations were eagerly received. As an incentive to stay for the whole evening, the invitations also announced that there were to be cash prizes given out at midnight. One thousand dollars would be given for the best costume, another thousand for the sexiest costume, another thousand for the sluttiest, and another thousand for the most evil. In addition, a ten thousand dollar door prize would be given to someone chosen at random from among the guests.

In small type beneath the announcement of the prizes it said, "Certain guests may be called upon to participate in themed demonstrations throughout the evening. Participation is mandatory, but couples who participate will receive a minimum of an additional $5000 each." It then added in even smaller print, "Acceptance of this invitation is acceptance of these terms."

No one ever bothers to read the small print, especially on an invitation.

Thirty invitations went out. It was hoped that at least twenty-four of the couples would accept the invitation, but within days, replies from all thirty indicated that they would attend.

***

Halloween arrived at last. The long driveway which led back to Whetherington villa was lined with Jack O'Lanterns, and a fake graveyard, complete with a mechanical hooded figure of death, decorated the secluded front lawn. Orange lights outlined all edges on the front of the house. Inside, spider webs festooned with black bows and shiny silk witch's hats stretched across the walls of the foyer. Ancient broomsticks, carved pumpkins and other symbols of Halloween were scattered throughout the house. A large bubbling caldron in the middle of the living room, whose steam poured out across the floor to form a low hanging mist throughout the house, completed the theme.

The evening was to begin with a sumptuous dinner so the guests began arriving around six for pre-dinner drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Fred and Willie greeted each guest at the door, and immediately after the guests walked past, dictated notes to their personal secretaries who were listening to the earwigs both hosts were wearing.

Fred especially liked the Adam and Eve costumes and they topped his best costume list. Adam was wearing a fig leaf loincloth with what appeared to be a snake peeking out from the front. Eve was also wearing leaves, but two large, red apples with very large stems appeared to hang from the front. 

Wilhelmina, on the other hand, felt that the spider and the fly were the best. The makeup was perfect, both the spider and the fly's faces were horrific, and it was very difficult to tell whether the spider or the fly was the male of the couple. "Maybe you will be able to tell if the spider eats the fly," Fred told her with a smirk. He then added, "Or perhaps we will have to give out a double prize."

Both agreed that Marilyn Monroe, accompanied by Madonna, were the sexiest couple, but they disagreed as to which was the sexy slut and which was a sexy drag-queen. "Are you sure that isn't Cindy and Clarice?" Willie asked.

"No," answered Fred, "Cindy is Cinderella and Clarice is the handsome prince."

"They do make a handsome couple, don't they?" she replied.

"They always have," he answered. "They always have." 

Fred and Willie also agreed that the naughty nurse and horny doctor were the sluttiest. The doctor was wearing a hospital lab coat, open at the front with nothing under it but a very strategically placed OR mask. The nurse was wearing a skirt not much bigger than a belt, thigh-high white fishnet stockings with red crosses on the front, and an oversized, old-fashioned nurse's cap. Her tiny, but oddly shaped, thong was red with a white cross exactly over her clit. What made the tiny thong look strange was that it did not decrease in a V to just a G-string going between her legs. Instead, it remained an inch or two wide until it curved slightly up to meet the strings of the waistband. Two stethoscope heads acting as nipple covers completed the ensemble.

By 6:45, it appeared as if all of the guests had arrived and Fred and Willie had all but given up on selecting a most evil costume. Then the door opened and both of their mouths dropped wide open in shock. Someone made up to look exactly like The Fallen One walked through the door with a female companion made up to look like a she-devil-- and not just any she-devil. She was the spitting image of The Mother of Lilith.

"It's not him. It's not him," Fred hissed to Willie. "He's not quite the right height and doesn't move right, so it's not him. But, damned, that makeup is exact. It has to be someone who has met him... someone with a huge set of brass balls."

"It's not her, either," Willie hissed back. "She's smaller, and much more graceful than that, but the skin looks right. With as much as she is showing, it had to have been dyed red all over her body, and her yellow eyes have the same slits as The Mother."

Fred started to whisper something else to Willie, but stopped because the couple was now directly in front of them. The man took Fred's outstretched hand in greeting and said in a deep, resonant voice, "Thank you for inviting me into your house. I go by many names, but tonight you may call me 'Scratch.'"

At the same time, the woman took Willie's hand and murmured, "And you may call me Lily."

Maxwell and Marta were standing nearby holding trays of canape's and champagne for the arriving guests. Both looked over with raised eyebrows and strange expressions on their faces. Max shrugged his shoulders and formed his lips into an exaggerated frown. He then mouthed, "I have no idea."

Willie recovered first from the shock which had frozen them in place and said cheerily. "Welcome to the greatest Halloween party ever. We will be dining shortly."

She grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray Marta was holding and offered it to The Mother, saying, "We have opened the best of our wine cellar for tonight. After all, tomorrow may never come."

"Tomorrow always comes," the man dressed as The Fallen One said with a deep chuckle. "The question is whether or not you will be there to see the sunrise."

"Yes," Fred answered dryly, "that is always the question." Then after his own forced chuckle he added, "... isn't it?"

At exactly seven pm, Maxwell appeared at the edge of the room and announced in his typically precise manner, "Dinner is served."




The Loophole - A Halloween Story



As the Whetheringtons and their guests filed into the dining room, Max leaned close to Fred and said softly, "I had to set two additional places. We have gatecrashers." He frowned, then tilting his head slightly upward, pointed his nose at The Fallen One and The Mother and said in his most pompous tone, "I believe it is the couple who dares to impersonate your master and mistress, m'Lord."

"We will see when the masks come off at midnight, won't we?" Fred answered.

***

The seven-course meal was presented in European fashion with each course being cleared from the table before the next course was served. Dessert, the final course, was creme brulee. The rich, caramel-topped custard was one of Marta's specialties and both Fred and Willie's favorite dessert. Willie had especially requested it for tonight, "just in case this doesn't work."

After all had finished and the dishes were cleared, Fred invited everyone into the large front room for coffee and conversation. "We have a few games that ought to make the evening interesting, enjoyable, and memorable," he said as he ushered people to the couches and chairs which had been arranged in a large ragged circle in the huge room. A warm fire crackled in the large fireplace in the corner along one of the outside walls. Heavy curtains blocked off the wide bay window area.

As the guests found their seats, Maxwell and Marta hurriedly brought two more chairs into the room. Max quietly huffed his displeasure at whomever the party crashers were, but no one except Willie heard or noticed him.

"You have just participated in and enjoyed a seven-course meal," Fred began. "Now we will participate in-- and most of you will enjoy-- a seven-course evening of sexual pleasure."

Several of the women blushed and quiet murmuring filled the room, but no one reacted in shock or attempted to leave. All present knew what type of parties Fred and Willie often gave and were expecting some sort of sexual content to the evening.

"And since," Fred continued, "my majordomo, Maxwell, did such a superb job of directing us through our marvelous supper, he will now guide us through... The Seven Levels of Sexual Sin."

Several of the women giggled slightly. One or two of the men laughed aloud and one exclaimed, "All right!"

"Monsieurs and Mademoiselles," Max began, "all of you agreed to participate as needed in our festivities this evening." He chuckled deeply. "For those of you who don't remember agreeing, I would advise that you read the small print on everything in the future."

He chuckled again. "And for those of you who think you aren't willing to participate or you won't participate or that we can't make you participate, participants have already been selected. If you were selected, you have already been given a very expensive and very secret drug. There was a timed cocktail of sedatives and other drugs in some of your creme brulees that will kick in at the appropriate time." Another chuckle. "So, if you suddenly feel very, very tired, know that you are perhaps part of the next course."

He chuckled slightly once again as he looked about the room "Prince Charming and Cinderella," he asked, "are you feeling a little tired... or perhaps like your inhibitions are fading away?"

"We don't have any inhibitions to begin with," Clarice answered cheerily. "As long as it doesn't involve screwing a man or a horse, bring it on."

Everyone laughed as Clarice-- Prince Charming-- took Cinderella into his/her arms and gave her a loud passionate kiss.

A witch in black satin and her partner warlock dressed in a matching robe made from purple satin suddenly stopped laughing as Max added, "What about Merga and Cyric?"

Cyric, the warlock in purple started to rise, but stumbled drunkenly into the center of the circle. "Why the hell not?" witch Merga said with a smile. "It's not like I haven't screwed in public before. What do we need to do?"

"Our selection from the first level of sexual sin is Voyeurism-- and its complimentary sin, Exhibitionism," Max explained. "All you have to do is let us watch you have sex. You will be the exhibitionists, we will be the voyeurs."

"Come here, honey," Merga said with a lopsided smile. "That drug has totally destroyed my inhibitions and I'm ready to exhibit some primo sex for these nice voyeurs." 

In one swift motion she stripped off her witch's robe and stood naked in the center of the room. Cyric-- actually David, the accountant-- stripped off his robe. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of sports shorts beneath it. Merga-- actually Alice, David's wife, laughed and said, "I guess I'm the exhibitionist in the family, aren't I?" She gave another loopy smile and added with a slurred voice, "But you won't pass up a chance to screw me, will you, honey?"

In answer, Dave pulled off his T-shirt and slid down his shorts. The fact that he was wearing a pair of tighty-whities under the shorts brought a chorus of laughter, causing him to turn bright red as he slid them slowly to the floor.

Alice pushed downward on his shoulders and he slowly went to his knees. She pressed her body against his and it looked, at first, like she was going to press her bushy cunt against his face. Instead she continued pressing against him until he fell over on his back with her straddling his chest. She then slid down slightly on his body and, after raising up a little, impaled herself on his now rigid prick. She began moaning and panting almost immediately as she rode him with forceful bounces that caused him to give out a distinct "oomf" each time she bottomed out against his pelvis.

As her cries continued to climb in volume and pitch, Willie leaned in close to Fred and whispered, "What sort of secret drug did Marta put in those desserts?"

Fred laughed softly and shielded his mouth as he whispered back, "The secret is... there is no drug. But they don't know that."

They both laughed quietly as Alice screamed out her first orgasm.

Meanwhile, Cindy and Clarice were naked and locked in a mutual scissors that allowed them to wildly grind their cunts together. Clarice encouraged Cindy with cries of "That's it baby, harder, harder, harder!" until they both began screaming out in orgasm. Cindy swung around in one sudden motion and embraced Clarice as she pressed their mouths together.

Someone in the crowd of voyeurs began a slow clap that grew in speed and volume until everyone stood with many shouting "Bravo! Bravo!"

As the applause began to die away, Fred motioned for everyone to be quiet and then said, "There is one other rule to the evening that I really should explain at this time. That rule is simple. 'Once something comes off, it stays off.' That means masks, clothing, whatever."

"What about my glasses?" asked Little Bo Peep. From the thickness of her lenses, everyone knew it was Beverly despite the excellence of the rest of her costume and makeup.

"Don't worry, Beverly," Fred replied. "If it's something you need to function, then you can put it back on."

"I assume that includes my peg leg," laughed Captain Hook. "The hook's fake, but I left my real prosthetic leg at home and don't want to be hopping around all night."

Fred joined his laughter, "Yes, Gerald," he replied, "that includes your peg leg."

***

Maxwell stepped into the center of the room and announced in his typically pompous voice, "It is now time for the second course."

He nodded to Clarice and Cindy and then to David and Alice and said, "You may return to your seats."

As they picked up their clothing and walked back to the sofas and chairs, Marta handed each of them a towel with instructions to put it under them before they sat down. After they were seated, Max swivelled his head back and forth several times stopping briefly to stare at this person or that.

"I believe it is time for a horny doctor and slutty nurse to show us the rest of their costumes," he said firmly. Donna Tucker and Wayne Forrester immediately turned deep red. They were both Fred and Willie's pick for the sluttiest costumes but, as usual, Maxwell knew the rest of the story better than anyone else in the room. After all, he spoke with the servants and maids of all of the other guests and knew secrets that only those who are deemed invisible by their masters and employers ever get to see.

Neither Donna nor Wayne rose from their chairs. Everyone else in the room was now staring at them. Max again spoke, "Give the drugs a minute to catch up," he said in a measured tone. "Timing such things can be a very tricky process."

He walked over so that he was directly in front of the nurse and doctor and asked, "Do you feel that joy juice flowing through your veins shredding your will and destroying your inhibitions?"

He smiled a most disconcerting smile and then added, "You have no choice. Leave what little clothing you have at your seats and come out into the center of the room."

Both Donna and Wayne stood up, stripped off their insignificant costumes, and walked slowly into the center of the room. Donna obviously had something in her vagina, because a small, T-handle was visible protruding just past her labia. It was most likely a chastity pear as that would match Dave's cock, which was enclosed in a chastity cage.

"The second level," intoned Max, "is public humiliation. Our naughty nurse and horny doctor didn't wear their skimpy costumes just to win the most slutty prize tonight. They did so in the secret hope that something would go wrong with their car, or they would have an accident and have to walk around in public in those costumes. Similarly, they wore their chastity devices beneath their costumes in the perverse hope that they might be forced to publicly expose themselves and their perversions here at this party."

He paused for a moment and then continued, "Sometimes hopes become reality. If you look carefully, you will see that Donna and Wayne also have almost matching anal plugs." He chuckled and said, " Lean over and show the people your hidden jewelry." Both Donna and Wayne bent at the waist to reveal shiny butt plugs. 

"Spread your cheeks and tell us what the plugs say," Max ordered.

Donna answered for both of them and said, "Mine says 'slut.' Dave's says 'slave.'"

"You actually get turned on by being humiliated, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," Dave answered softly. Donna merely nodded her head.

"Your holes are all plugged," mused Max, "so what could I possibly have you do for our sexual enjoyment?"

He turned to the group and asked, "What do you think?"

"They're not all plugged!" shouted someone. "They still have an open mouth."

"Ah, yes," Max replied. "And the most humiliating thing that a woman can do is to give a man a blow job in public."

Donna turned a deeper shade of red, but at the same time she began to pant slowly.

"And would that not be even more embarrassing for a man?"

Max slowly turned around with his hand in the air pointing at the crowd with his finger. "I guess we need two men to help us out." He stopped and extended his arm fully "How about Thing 1 and Thing 2?"

Two young men dressed in red shirts with big white circles on the front with the numbers one and two on them stood up. "I know it will be a bit of an imposition to ask that one of you let yourself be sucked off by a woman, but I think the drugs will help you relax your standards a little."

"A blow job's a blow job," answered Thing 2. "As long as she doesn't bite, I'm game."

"Keep your costumes on," Max instructed. "It will add to their humiliation."

Thing 1 and Thing 2 walked into the center of the room, unzipped their pants, and pulled out their pricks. Thing 1 was already stiff. Thing 2 gave his cock a few quick strokes and it also stiffened.

"On your knees," Max ordered Donna and Wayne. "... and crawl over to your proper positions."

Both dropped immediately to their knees and began crawling across the floor to where Thing 1 and Thing 2 were standing. As Wayne approached Thing 1, it was obvious that his own cock was trying to become erect but the rings and thorns of the chastity cage were preventing that.

"Beg for it," Max ordered, and Wayne said "Thing 1, may I please suck your cock?"

Donna just looked up at Thing 2 and said, "Please?"

Thing 1 and Thing 2 answered in unison, "Of course," and Wayne and Donna immediately pulled their cocks into their mouths.

Donna was obviously an accomplished cocksucker. Wayne knew what he was doing, but he seemed distracted by the pain of his chastity cage. Amazingly, the humiliation of sucking Thing 1's cock in front of all of these people was turning him on so much that eventually his own cock no longer responded to the pain and swelled up to fill the constraints of the cock cage to the absolute limit. As he continued to suck and lick, Thing 1 began to thrust against his mouth and reached down to hold his head so that it would not bounce away from the thrusts.

Finally, with a deep groan, Thing 1 spurted into Dave's mouth. As soon as that happened, Dave himself shuddered and a small amount of semen dripped from his trapped cock. His cock remained totally stiff, however, because the tight rings of the cage now trapped the blood in his engorged member.

A moment later, Thing 2 also groaned and thrust one last time very deeply into Donna's mouth. She pumped her mouth up and down a few more times on Thing 2's cock and then fell over on her back and spread her legs so that she could frantically get herself off with her own hands.

Someone again began a slow clap, but Max held out his hands for silence and said solemnly, "One does not applaud humiliation unless it adds to the humiliation." After that, everyone stared in silence as Wayne and Donna rose shakily to their feet and looked around the room.

"I'm afraid that cock cage is going to have to be cut off," Fred said, stepping into the center of the room with a large pair of wire cutters in his hand. "Or we could just wait until gangrene sets in," he added with a laugh, "and it will drop off all on its own."

He then turned Wayne so that they were more or less face to face and reached down with the wire cutters and began snipping the rings of the cock cage. "Hold yourself out of the way," he ordered, "or I might snip off something you don't want to lose."

Wayne groaned in added humiliation as he pulled his trapped prick away from the metal rings as best he could so Fred could cut them. A moment later he screamed out in pain as the cage fell away. It was not just the sharp barbs pulling out of his skin. The circulation to his penis was restored and with it came the pain that his body had been prevented from feeling while everything was cut off by his swollen member straining against the metal sheath.

"You know," said Fred rather matter-of-factly as Dave swayed in pain, "a eunuch doesn't have to worry about chastity devises or the pain they sometimes cause." He laughed and added, "And if you don't get a cock cage with an emergency release, you just might find that out first hand." He then slapped Wayne soundly on the ass and told him to go sit down.

***

Maxwell had once again come to the center of the room. "The third level of sexual decadence," he began, "goes beyond exhibitionism and humiliation... ... to pain."

He again turned slowly in place surveying the assembled party goers. "I'm afraid, however," he continued, "that we do not have even one matched pair of pain sluts with us tonight." He smiled, "So that means we have to break up a couple or two for our demonstration."

He spun rather suddenly and pointed directly at Wonder Woman. "How do you feel about pain, Diana King?"

She gasped and Max laughed as he added, "I do rather like the play on names with Diana Prince and Diana King. But while Diana Prince's alternate identity is Wonder Woman. Diana King's alternate identity is PainslutQueen1942, and your password is DCDPDW1942."

Diana again gasped, this time grabbing at her throat with her hand. " DC for DC Comics. DP for Diana Prince. DW for Diana White, her married name. And 1942 because that is the year that Wonder Woman premiered in DC comics."

"How... How... How could you know all that?" she sputtered out.

"PainslutQueen1942 made way too many references to Wonder Woman comics in the chat rooms," Max explained smugly. "It piqued the interest of a hacker friend of mine. He came to me after he had discovered your secret and asked me if I knew who you were."

He smiled once again and Diana slumped her shoulders and looked down at the ground. "Now we all know who you really are, don't we?"

He spun almost 180 degrees and pointed at a really bad Jack Sparrow impersonator. "Just as we know who you really are, Trevor."

The pirate jumped back slightly as Max advanced on him. "I've seen the costumes that you have created for others. They are wonderfully inventive and exquisitely constructed." He lifted up the felt vest that Trevor was wearing. "This piece of crap, on the other hand, can have only one purpose, and that is to cause people to make fun of you or perhaps go even beyond that and maybe punch you or spank you."

At the word spank, Trevor began shaking his head and stammering "No, no, it isn't anything like that."

"But the drugs will reveal the true you," replied Max. "Why don't you just drop your pants to the floor, bend over this sofa, and let your lovely wife Mahaila whale away on your ass with this leather paddle."

Max once again gave that false smile that somehow seemed very foreboding and continued, "It's what you have wanted to do for a long time, isn't it? But you have never had the nerve to ask her to do it."

Trevor continued to shake his head slowly back and forth, but at the same time inched his way over to the back of the couch and began unbuckling the belt of his costume. Once it was loose, he opened his pants and let them drop to his feet. He wasn't wearing anything under them.

"We will deal with Wonder Woman in just a minute," Max said, suddenly very cheerful in his speech. "But first we have to decide how many swats our wretched imitation of Captain Jack Sparrow should receive from his lovely wife."

As he spoke he handed a black leather paddle to a rather muscular black woman who was dressed as an Amazon warrior. "Trevor made that exquisite costume for you, didn't he?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied softly. "It was what I wanted."

"Then don't you think you should thank him by giving him what he really wants and needs?" Max asked.

In response, she swung the paddle through a wide arc and a loud "Crack" echoed through the room. Trevor gasped... grunted... and then moaned as if someone had just taken his cock into their mouths.

"Not yet," Max said. "We haven't decided how many strokes you should give him."

"Until he cums," the Amazon replied, "... or begs me to stop."

With that she stood behind Trevor, and looking defiantly into Max's eyes, began delivering blow after blow to her husband's upturned ass. The crowd was counting softly as she repeatedly swung the paddle. At around ten strokes, a light sheen of perspiration appeared on her ebony skin. At around twenty strokes Trevor began grunting out "Oh, oh, oh, oh" with each impact of the shinny leather. On the thirty-ninth stroke, he suddenly yelled out a deep, long cry and stood up. His cock was erect and spurting cum over the top of the leather couch cushions.

"I think this is definitely going to change some things around our house," Mahaila said as she stood with the paddle at her side panting-- perhaps in exertion, perhaps in passion. "I'm going to take him over in the corner, and he is now going to do a little something for me." She smiled as she slapped the leather against her hand. "Only his paddle is a lot smaller and wetter and can get to just the right spots if he sticks it out far enough."




The Loophole - A Halloween Story



As Mahaila pulled Trevor toward the far corner, Maxwell once again stepped into the center of the room. "We haven't forgotten you, Diana," he began. "And before you waste your time protesting that we are wrong about you, look down. Your body testifies against you."

Diana looked down at her blue spandex costume. A darker blue splotch now decorated the area between her legs and the stars within the splotch were no longer shining white. "Why don't you just take off those sopping wet bottoms-- or for that matter, why not take everything off except your bracelets and crown, and put yourself over the couch like Trevor did?"

Wonder Woman slowly slid her panty-like bottoms to the ground, followed shortly thereafter by her red top and cape. That left her standing there in her crown, her bracelets, and her thigh-high red and white shiny leather boots. "The couch," said Max and she slowly draped herself over the leather cushions.

"On second thought," he said, "it might be better if you were just on your hands and knees in the middle of the room." Diana pushed herself up from the couch and followed Max's directions so that she was now on her hands and knees in the spot he indicated.

"We are going to see just how much of a pain slut you really are," he said. "You can get up and go back to your partner at any time, but if you do so before you orgasm from the pain, you will not be able to cum in any fashion for the rest of the evening. The drugs you ingested will prevent that and I won't give you the antidote unless you stay with the pain all the way to the peak. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," she answered. "I cum from the pain or I don't get to cum at all for at least the rest of the night."

"You understand very well," Max said with a smile. Marta walked into the center of the room to join him for a moment. She was carrying a long, cane-like object which she handed to her husband and then returned to the edges of the crowd.

Max lifted the cane and placed its tip-- or should I say tips-- against Wonder Woman's cunt and asshole. There was a slight click, a soft "pffft", and an extremely loud scream as the cattle prod discharged. Diana's body reflexively straightened from the jolt which passed through it and she launched herself forward several feet to where she lay panting and sobbing on the floor.

"Return to the position," Max ordered softly. As she pulled herself back up to her hands and knees and crawled back into place, he turned to the room and asked, "How many do you think it will take for her to cum?" He surveyed the crowd and added, "Or do you think she will break first?"

"She will take whatever you give her," said Superman, who had accompanied Wonder Woman to the party. "She is that much into pain."

Six more times the click, pffft, and scream were repeated. Each time it took just a little longer for her to pull herself back up to her hands and knees and return to her position. The last time, as she wobbled back to her place in front of Max, instead of finalizing her position by spreading her hands and knees to brace herself, she rolled over onto her back with her legs drawn up and her feet nearly against her ass. She then spread her knees widely.

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?" Max asked.

In response, she spread her knees even further apart causing her cunt to gape slightly. Max muttered, "So be it," and pressed the prod against her from the front. Now the two prongs were against her clit and the very back of her cunt opening. This time the click, pffft, was followed by an extremely loud and long yell that sounded like the scream of a tormented soul from the depths of hell.

Diana took a gurgling intake of breath and continued to scream, but the tone of the scream changed. It was deeper, throatier, and broken into short gasps. Her back arched so greatly that her body came up off the ground except where her shoulders and heels were touching. She remained in that position quivering and screaming for several minutes until she collapsed back to the floor with a sigh.

Several people in the crowd could be seen exchanging money. Evidently there had been a few side bets as to whether or not anyone could actually cum from such pain. Diana rose shakily to her feet and Marta handed her a small glass. "It will taste like white wine," Marta murmured, "but it will counteract any effects of the other drugs."

Diana drained the small glass in one gulp and returned to Superman on one of the leather couches. Again, Marta handed her a towel to sit on.

"It's time for a short intermission to our activities," Max announced. "Refill your drinks. Pick up some snacks. But do not leave. We will resume shortly.

***

About a half hour later, Maxwell called everyone back into the front room. The furniture had been slightly re-arranged so that it was now in a semi-circle facing the outer wall. Four raised lecterns or podia stood facing the room. A fifth was slightly to the side.

"For our next courses of sexual sin," Max explained, "We are going to play a little game for some very high stakes." One of the helpers came into the room and handed something very heavy to Max, who grunted slightly as he stepped forward and placed it on a small pedestal slightly in front of where he was standing. When he stepped back so that the object could be seen, there was a loud gasp from the crowd.

"Yes," he said smugly, "that is a standard 400 ounce bar of gold bullion." He chuckled, "I'm sure that all of you know the current price of gold. It is down a little from its peak, but this shiny door stopper is still worth somewhere around a half a million dollars."

He looked around the crowd, stopping to make eye contact with several of the people who were staring greedily at the softly shining gold bar. "Are any of you greedy enough to put yourself up against this gold bar in our little game?"

He laughed then said, "Of course you are. How silly of me to ask." He raised his hand with one finger extended like some ancient orator and asked, "But are any of you greedy enough to put your spouse up against this 'Good Delivery Certified' bar of precious metal?

"What about you, Dracula? Are you willing to put Elvira at risk?

"And you, Klingon? Would you risk your Starfleet mate?

"Or perhaps you, Doctor Frankenstein. Are you willing to put up your bride?

"Perhaps Clyde would be willing to put Bonnie on the block for a chance to win this little bauble?"

The room became very quiet. Max waited for a few more moments and said softly, "I assure you that none of you have been given any drugs. The only drug acting on you right now is your own greed.

"The rules of the game are very simple. We will play four rounds. The loser of the first round experiences forced exhibition. The loser of the second round receives forced humiliation. The third round is, of course, forced pain. And the fourth round... well, we will discuss that when we get there. But at that point, the remaining player will have to decide if they are going to walk away with a consolation prize or risk everything going for even more than this bauble that you now see before you."

Marta was standing next to the curtains which closed off the bay window area. She reached behind the edge of the curtains and they began slowly sliding open. "If you are willing to take the risk," Max continued, "then restrain your partner or spouse in one the devices in the bay window and go take your position behind the corresponding podium."

For several more moments, no one moved. Then the mad doctor stood up and pulled his wife to a standing position. "Do I have to?" she whined. "You said I wouldn't have to do anything tonight. I only came because I wanted to see what that crazy old bastard was up to this time."

"I know what he is up to," Dr. Frankenstein-- actually Harold Bently, a local real estate developer-- said harshly. "He is hoping that he can embarrass me or hurt me. That might happen, but I'm willing to take the risk. That gold bar is worth over $500,000 dollars."

"But I'm the one who might get stuck with a cattle prod or have to suck off one of these old farts," Gloria whined, shaking her heavy, lightning-bolt-streaked wig from side to side.

"You married me for my power and wealth," he shot back, "remember, honey? And you've gotten real used to using that power and spending my money. Don't you think it's time that you earned some of it?"

With that he dragged her over to the first platform, which was labeled with a large number 1. "Into the stocks," he ordered. Gloria complied and he quickly closed the top over her head and hands.

"Actually," Maxwell said, now holding his hand up as if instructing a student, "these are pillories, even though they are commonly called stocks. Technically, a stock is flat on the ground and holds a person's legs while they are seated on the ground. A pillory, on the other hand, holds a person bent over at the waist by trapping their hands and head."

"Whatever," snarled a rough-looking man in a pin-striped 1920's style suit as he locked his partner in crime into pillory number 2. Bonnie was actually Loraine Westcamp, and Clyde was her husband Tim. Tim was a local banker known for foreclosing on properties as soon as possible if a person began to have trouble making the payments. Loraine was known for controlling most of the upscale social activities in town and taking great joy in freezing out any woman whom she deemed to be unworthy.

Mr. Worf, actually Virgil Hampton, a physics teacher at the local high school, carefully placed his companion's head in pillory number 3. "I'll do my best to win," he assured him. "I know it's a risk, but we really could use the extra cash."

"I knew I shouldn't have worn a red shirt tonight," the Starfleet midshipman wailed in response. He was actually Lee Williams, a grade school teacher.

Meanwhile, Dracula and Vampira continued a rather loud, hissing argument. Dracula-- actually an accountant named Bruce Stover-- and Vampira-- actually his significant other and co-owner of his accounting firm, Wendy Saperstein-- evidently reached agreement because she walked over and set her hands and head into Pillory number 4. 

Several heads swivelled in an attempt to get a good view down Vampira's cleavage, but as she leaned over it was very obvious that she had a thin blouse or some other kind of wrap beneath the deep V of the black dress. Actually all four of the "spouses" were very conservatively dressed for one of Fred's parties. It was rather obvious that none of them had intended to be participants in whatever it was that Maxwell and Fred had in mind.

"We are not going to rely on buzzers or any other gimmicks like that," Max began. "This will not be a contest of luck and speed, but rather will be purely a competition of knowledge, wisdom, and cunning."

He paused to look each contestant squarely in the eyes and said, "You have heard the rules. You know what you are risking. We are descending into non-consensual sex. There are many different choices at each level, but we are going to stick with our choices from the three consensual levels. That means non-consensual exhibition, non-consensual humiliation, and non-consensual pain. That is what you are risking."

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing quietly, "You can still change your mind at this point. All you have to do is release your partner and go back to your chairs." His voice suddenly became loud and forceful, "But once we begin, there is no backing out. You are in this contest until you win or until your partner pays the forfeit."

Max again looked each man in the eyes and asked, "Are you in or out?"

"I'm in," responded each in turn.

"Then we begin," he said softly.

***

"The first question is a moral and legal one," Max explained. "Your company has built a substandard apartment building which collapsed when it caught fire from faulty wiring. Many people were killed in the inferno and you are being held personally and legally liable for the negligence. What do you do?"

Max reached under his podium and pulled out a large analog timer. It was set to five minutes. "You have five minutes to come up with an appropriate solution," he said. "After we have heard all solutions, the group will judge them from best to worst." He laughed and added, "Remember, you don't have to have the best answer, you just have to NOT have the worst answer. The worst answer is the loser in this round."

He pressed a large button on the top of the timer and the second hand began its sweep around the clock face. All four men paused in thought for a few moments and then began writing furiously on the large whiteboards which would display their answer. Meanwhile, Marta and several other serving maids, passed through the crowd with drinks and snacks.

A loud "ding" announced the end of the five minutes. "Pens down," said Max. "And be ready to display your answers."

Clyde turned over his slate and said in his tough-guy voice, "Cop a plea and turn against your partners and the architect. Let them take most of the fall."

Polite applause met this response and Tim Westlake frowned at the crowd, obviously displeased that his answer was not appreciated.

Lt. Worf snarled out his answer. "Hire the best lawyers money can buy and tie it up in the courts until you die of old age."

From the level of conversation buzzing in the room, it appeared as if the party goers were arguing about which of the attorneys they knew could actually do that.

Dr. Frankenstein turned over his slate and read his answer in a clipped, Austrian accent that wasn't a part of his character but was actually the way that Harold, whose last name was Von Schmidt, actually spoke. "Convert your holdings into cash," he read, "and flee to a country without extradition. With enough money in your hands, anywhere is home."

This answer was met with more enthusiastic applause than the first two.

Dracula chuckled softly. His laugh had an evil tone to it that brought shivers to many of those who heard it. "I would not be in that position to begin with," his answer began. "I would have formed a new company through one of my holding companies when I bid the contract to build the building. That way I would be at least two levels away from the charges and they wouldn't be able to come back against me personally."

Bruce Stover, who actually ran several different construction companies in the state in addition to his accounting firm, then finished with "And to make sure, I would probably use a holding company headquartered in Mexico or some Caribbean nation so that the listing of ownership and board of directors would not be public record."

His answer was met with loud applause and shouts of "Bravo, bravo, bravo!"

"I think we have a winner," said Max. "And more importantly, we have a loser." 

Loraine Westcamp began to struggle against the wooden stock which held her firmly in place. Meanwhile, Tim began slowly backing further into the corner of the room.

"Don't worry, Mr. Banker," Max intoned. "Nothing will happen to you. The only pain you will experience will be to stand and watch your wife publicly humiliate herself by displaying for us her true inner slut."

He chuckled slightly, "But then you usually just stand in the shadows and watch others struggle while you collect your fee, don't you? Your fee tonight, by the way-- the consolation prize for this round-- is twenty thousand dollars."

Tim smiled at the thought of the cash while his wife, Loraine, renewed her struggles in the pillory. Two of the black-clothed helpers pulled the stand holding the pillory-- and her-- into the center of the room. They then began cutting away at her clothing using electric scissors. They did not cut through the cloth so that the blouse or dress would immediately fall, but instead cut thin strips so that they slowly trimmed the cloth back revealing more and more of her body to the crowd.

"Slow and steady does it," said Maxwell in his measured tone. "Let the suspense build as she displays more and more flesh like the common whore that she really is." 

At his words, Loraine turned an even deeper shade of red. The phrase "common whore," was one of the descriptors which she, herself, used when denying membership to other women at one of her exclusive clubs.

When the old-fashioned blouse and skirt were lying in strips on the floor at her feet, the two helpers began attacking her undergarments. Soon she was standing bent over, naked and quivering, in front of people whom she normally viewed as her inferiors.

"Now we will see just how much of a slut you really are," boomed Max. Another platform was wheeled into the room. On it sat a Sybian female masturbation machine. Loraine immediately knew what it was because she had one secreted in her upstairs closet. She was sure that no one knew about it, but this unit was identical, even to exactly the same twin dildos mounted on the crest of the saddle-like machine.

Of course, "no one," in Loraine's mind would not include her personal maids and servants. She didn't ever think of them as people. They were nothings... nobodies... no ones... and those "no ones" knew all about her evenings riding her "unicorn," as she called her machine.

"How long do you think this slut needs to ride the unicorn before she has her tenth orgasm?" asked Max.

Loraine's mouth was now fully agape. The fact that Max had called it a unicorn shocked her greatly. But ten orgasms! She had ridden her unicorn to five before, and perhaps six or seven if she was really carried away, but she would not be able to stand ten. And she would be doing this in front of her friends. They would know how truly wanton she was if she allowed herself to orgasm in front of them again and again and again.

The two helpers who had cut off her clothing stepped back and a different two released her from the pillory and guided her over to the platform with the Sybian mounted on it. They forced her to her knees straddling the machine and positioned her above the dildos. Then, after strapping her feet and shins firmly in place, they pushed her down on the twin plastic pricks.

The two dildos had been heavily lubricated and she slid relatively easily into place. A wide leather belt was strapped around her waist and four very strong elastic bands were attached from the belt to the edges of the platform and made taut. She could move slightly, but was held very firmly in place on the machine. Her arms were then crossed behind her back, wrists to elbows. and bound in place.

After the two helpers stepped away, silence reigned for several moments as the guests watched her squirm with discomfort and try to look away from their gaze. Then a soft humming filled the room which grew louder and louder as the machine was brought up to its maximum settings. Those who were familiar with a Sybian knew that the forward dildo was now also rotating within her cunt stimulating her from within as much, or more so, than the vibrations were stimulating her clit and the tender flesh between her legs. The anal probe transmitted the vibrations of the machine deep inside her.

Now soft moans and cries of "No, please no, please make it stop," were starting to fill the room. The cries soon turned to gasps of "Oh, oh, oh, oh," and then, as the vibrations continued, became unintelligible grunts and gasps which soon turned into a shrill, keening wail as Loraine was forced higher and higher toward her first orgasm.

Suddenly, she threw back her head and ground her crotch frantically against the machine as she screamed out her first orgasm. Her mind wanted to drift in the afterglow of that orgasm, but as many of the women in the crowd knew, that was not possible on a running Sybian where one orgasm was just the gateway to a second and third and fourth until your body could stand no more.




The Loophole - A Halloween Story



Loraine gasped and screamed as the rotating plastic penis massaged her cunt from the inside while the thundering vibrations pounded against her clit and slit and ass from below. Somehow, she was managing to rise high enough to almost pull off of the dildos, but her body did not have the strength hold her up for very long against the strong elastic. Her muscles soon fatigued, causing her to slam back down on the saddle as if pushed in place by a very forceful set of hands.

"Three," Max counted aloud as she was driven to her third orgasm. The crowd counted for him when it was obvious she had reached her fourth orgasm. By the time she reached her ninth forced orgasm, only a few in the crowd were even bothering to keep count.

"Ten," Max finally said. Then he added, "Just turn it down a little and push her over into the corner and let her enjoy herself while we go on with our contest."

Even in her lust-fogged state of mind, Loraine was able to comprehend what Max had said and tried to protest. "No, please," her voice quivered out. She tried to say something else, but the ministrations of the machine overwhelmed her and she once again slid into the throes of orgasm.

"We will keep watch over her and shut things down if it looks like it might cause permanent damage," Max assured the guests. Loraine's husband, Tim, meanwhile was back in one of the couches, sitting quietly and sipping a drink as he watched his wife writhe in passion on that devilish machine.

***

Max listened to the soft moans and whimpers from the corner for a few moments and then turned his attention back to the remaining three contestants. "The question this time is a business problem," he began. "You are the owner and manager of a large construction company. You have had an understanding with the inspectors for years, but now there is a new inspector who won't look the other way. The local newspaper is also sniffing around trying to dig up a Pulitzer Prize winning expose'.

"There is no way that you can finish on time and satisfy this new building inspector. There are significant penalties for late completion and significant bonuses for early completion. The very existence of the company hinges on your actions. How do you handle the problem?

" ... Again, you have five minutes to formulate your answer."

While soft music played and the three contestants wrote furiously, Marta and several others servants again moved among the guests with trays of drinks and after-diner snacks. At exactly five minutes, the timer chimed and Max yelled out, "Pens down."

After a moment of silence, he said, "Let's start with our mighty Klingon warrior."

Lt. Worf-- Virgil the physics teacher-- suggested, "Bribe him at whatever level it takes."

Significant murmuring resulted from that plan.

Bruce Stover-- Dracula-- turned over his slate which said, "Have him taken care of so it looks like an accident."

That also created some significant murmuring, and there were also many people nodding their heads in agreement.

Doctor Frankenstein had what was obviously the favorite plan. His slate said, "Blackmail his wife and make her put pressure on her inspector husband to play along. That way, there's no direct connection or paper trail."

When he turned over his white board, his plan was met with applause.

"I think we have a winner," Max said loudly. "But who is our loser and why?"

Abraham Lincoln-- actually Judge McConnell-- stood and said, "The Klingon's plan is the worst for the same reason that Frankenstein's plan is the best. Bribing the reluctant inspector directly creates a paper trail that a cop or reporter or some federal racketeering commission can bring into court, especially if he won't go along with you. You might get your building built on time, but you could be in prison before the tenants move in."

Cries of "Exactly" and "Tell 'em judge" filled the room.

"I'm sorry, Lee," Lt. Worf said through his tears.

"Don't fall apart, Worf," Max said. "Our red-shirted midshipman will end up being humiliated, but you will also experience that humiliation. So, at least you will be together."

He clapped his hands sharply several times and two rather large men dressed entirely in black hurried into the room and pulled the pillory in which Lee was restrained into the center of the room. Meanwhile, two other similarly-dressed men pushed a platform into the room on which stood what appeared to be a very solid door frame.

"Mr Worf," Max instructed, "would you please remove everything from the waist down and step into the restraining frame?"

Virgil did so and Max's helpers put restraint cuffs on his wrists and ankles and tied him tightly in place in the frame. The helpers then removed Lee's pants, shoes, and socks. He was not wearing underwear.

Max turned to the crowd and asked, "Have you ever noticed that partial nudity is often much more humiliating than complete nakedness?"

He then went on to explain, "Virgil and Lee have been together for years, but have stayed very firmly in the closet... or at least in the doorway. That means they would be very embarrassed and humiliated to be 'caught in the act,' so to speak. Tonight they will not only be caught in the act, we will watch from start to finish."

One of the helpers returned. He was wearing thin rubber gloves and was carrying a small jar of some sort. "That is a lubricant and stimulant," Max explained. Once they are greased up, the drugs in the mixture will stimulate them so that they can't help themselves."

The helper dipped his gloved hand into the mixture and began rubbing it over Virgil's prick. There truly were drugs in the mixture and Worf's cock immediately sprang to full erection. Meanwhile, another of the helpers was rubbing the same mixture between Lee's asscheeks. Lee quickly also became turgidly erect.

Lee's face was beet red and he kept muttering, "Oh God, Oh God," as he was forced to stare into the faces of the gathering.

Then the helper guided the tip of Virgil's erect prick to Lee's rosebud and centered it on target. Both Lee and Virgil quivered with a combination of shame and sexual excitement. The sexual excitement soon won and Virgil pushed forward, impaling Lee, who was now chanting "No, no, no, no."

His chant, however, soon changed to "Yes, yes, Yes!" as the sexual excitement overwhelmed him and he thrust back against Virgil's penetration.

Just as Virgil began to shake and quiver in orgasm and started to erupt into Lee's ass, another of the helpers stepped forward with a broad band of some sort and bound Virgil firmly in place, deep in Lee's ass.

"We will leave them like that," Max said softly, "as sort of a living statue of shame."

Max then looked out upon the now lust-filled faces of the party goers and said, "Although Lee and Virgil were definitely humiliated by their experience, I think that most of you would have been willing to change places with Virgil... or Lee in exchange for the forty thousand dollar consolation prize that they will receive."

***

Max watched as the platforms holding Lee and Virgil were rolled together over to the edge of the room near where Gloria was still writhing on her unicorn. He then slapped his hands together with a loud "Clap!" and said briskly, "Time to move to our next level."

He once again surveyed the room and stated. "Earlier this evening, five of you agreed to act as special judges during our competitions this evening." He paused and looked at several specific people before asking, "Would the judges now please come forward?"

Three men and two women stepped to the front of the room. "Dracula and Dr Frankenstein," Max began, "you have five minutes to write out something that will convince these five upstanding judges to vote for you rather than your opponent. ... Starting now!"

After a few moments of thought, Dr. Frankenstein began writing. Dracula, meanwhile, stood smiling at the judges. Then he wrote quickly on his slate and set down his pen. At the end of five minutes, Max curtly said, "Pens down."

Frankenstein's answer was first. Harold Von Schmidt, explained how he and Gloria were valued members of the community and had helped many charitable causes and so on and so forth. When he had finished reading his answer, the five judges nodded appreciatively.

Then it was Dracula's turn. His slate held nothing but a list of five words. They were, "Sandburg; Lignite; SAT; LuAnn's; and William."

Sandburg was a reference to an unsolved fatal hit and run on Sandburg Road from over a decade ago. Lignite is a form of soft coal found in cheap gravel that can sometimes contaminate concrete and weaken it. Especially in beams exposed to the weather, lignite contamination can cause weakening and even result in building collapse. SAT, of course, referred to the Scholastic Aptitude Tests which were required for most college admissions. LuAnn's referred to LuAnn's Escort Services which often provided willing companions for some of the more well-to-do members of the community, and William referred to William Rath, a young and extremely handsome young man who owned a local landscaping business.

Each of the five judges knew exactly what at least one of Bruce's five phrases meant and they each immediately stammered out, "I vote for Dracula."

"That isn't fair!" screamed Gloria. "He's threatening them."

"I see no threats," answered Max. "He is just suggesting that he might have information available should it be desired."

Gloria gasped. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth agape. Those were the exact words she had used to pressure Fred Whetherington into investing in one of her and Harold's rather shady real estate developments which had gone belly up and bankrupted several of the investors. Somehow, when one of Harold's great deals went sour, he never ended up losing money. Others, however, were never so lucky.

When Gloria had encouraged Fred and Willie to invest in what they all could see was obviously a flawed plan, as part of her sales pitch, she hinted that she and Harold had access to some potentially damaging legal or financial information. She was very careful not to directly threaten Fred, but she did point out that she and Harold had "information available should it be desired by the authorities."

When Max used those words, both she and Harold suddenly knew that this was a set up and that they had been tricked. But they also knew that their best course of action was to endure whatever was to come and learn from the evening.

Gloria did not resist as two of the helpers removed her from the pillory and brought her to the center of the room. Two other helpers were bringing a restraint frame similar to what had been used to hold Virgil. She knew what was expected of her and stripped off her costume and stepped between the uprights of the frame. Surprise showed on her face when one of the helpers stopped her from removing her large wig. "It stays on," he said simply.

Once she was standing in the proper place, the helpers attached wrist and ankle restraints and then pulled her taut. She was now spread in an obscene X within the frame with legs pulled tightly to the sides and arms stretched wide almost to their limits slightly above her head. She remained rather serene and composed until they began taping electrodes to her body. 

She began to protest, "No, No!, Please! Please! Anything but that!" Her voice started out subdued, but rapidly rose in pitch and volume and she began thrashing against her bonds. "Harold," she finally screamed out, "you will PAY for this!"

She and Harold had tried electro-sex a couple of times. Harold actually enjoyed it and sometimes taped TENS pads to his ass and nipples while they were making love. It would drive him into extreme orgasm if Gloria would reach out and turn the dials to maximum just as he reached climax. In fact, he had purchased a TENS unit with a remote so that all Gloria needed do was push a button on the remote and the unit would switch to the higher levels.

Gloria, on the other hand, hated electro-sex. But then again, she hated being shocked in any fashion. As a small girl, she would run crying to her parents if one of her brothers shuffled their feet across the carpet and zapped her on the arm with static electricity. Maybe her body was just more susceptible to electric shock.

By the time the nipple clamps were in place, Gloria was crying continuously. Fred approached and stood before her. "I know your aversion to electricity," he said, "so we are going to prepare you a little before we begin."

One of the helpers held up a rather large dildo with wires leading from it. "This is a little larger than it would have to be if it were just an electrode," Fred explained. "It is also a rather powerful vibrator that twists and turns within you in addition to vibrating."

A different helper held up a smaller version of the same dildo. "And this anal plug operates in much the same fashion," Fred added. As the two helpers pushed the dildos into place, Fred held up a leather belt that had a crotch strap. "And to keep you from pushing them out," he continued, "they will be held in place with this belt." One of the helpers reached out and took the belt from Fred and began tightening it in place around Gloria's waist. He then tightly cinched the crotch strap in place, firmly imbedding the dildos in her body.

Before returning to his seat, Fred said softly, "The vibrators will kick in immediately and will be stimulating you well in advance of any possible electric shock." He then gave Gloria a quick smile and walked back to join Willie.

Meanwhile, a small pedestal was brought out and set in front of Harold. "You might remember something like this from when your children were little," Max explained. "The four lights flash in a specific order and each color makes a specific sound. All you have to do is to press the colored switches in the same sequence. After five sequences, it switches to giving you only the sounds. For the next five tries, you have to remember which color goes with which sound."

He turned to the crowd and said, "There will be three rounds for a total of 30 sequences."

He then looked over at Gloria and smiled pleasantly. She glared back at him. "We left your lightning bolt wig in place because this will involve electricity."

"I had already figured that out," she spat back.

"If Harold gets the sequence exactly right," Max explained, "nothing happens. But each key that he presses incorrectly will cause the TENS units attached to your body to discharge. The units will then immediately step up in strength and the next incorrect key in that sequence will be at a higher voltage. After the second incorrect touch, the nipple and..."

Max suddenly looked astonished and embarrassed. "We forgot the clit clip ... " he said in an almost shrill-sounding voice, "... and I didn't notice."

By the time he had finished speaking, one of the helpers had run in and quickly attached a large electrode clip to Gloria's pleasure nub.

"As I was saying," Max continued in his normal deep voice. "After the second incorrect touch, the nipple and clit clips come into play. After the third incorrect touch, the vaginal and anal electrodes kick in-- and they are set for much higher voltage."

He raised his hand into his most pompous pose and said, "Should their be a fourth incorrect touch in a given sequence, the electrodes in the wrist and ankle restraints will activate and will pulse at high voltage for thirty seconds. That may never occur, but just in case, we are going to protect the carpet around your restraint frame."

All four helpers came back to the middle of the room carrying plastic tarps which they spread out around and over the platform. While they were doing so, Gloria alternated between glaring at Max, Fred, and her husband Harold.

"Shall we begin?" said Max and the large disk on the platform in front of Harold slowly flashed red-red-green-green-blue-blue-yellow-yellow. With each color was a corresponding electronic note.

Gloria tensed as Max began pushing buttons. The machine made a clicking noise as it went dark awaiting the next press of a key. Max hesitated, but then began pressing keys. Gloria gave a deep sigh as he hit the final yellow with no mistakes. Almost immediately, the device played a new sequence, red-blue-red-green-red-yellow-blue-green-blue-yellow.

Gloria's eyes widened as she realized that it had added two steps to the sequence. It has also sped up slightly. She would have easily been able to match that pattern, but she knew that Harold would not. She could only hope he got most of them right.

He didn't.

There were eight steps in the sequence. Max got the first five of them right, but then repeated color five instead of moving on to color six. That meant that steps six, seven, and eight were wrong.

At step six, Gloria gasped slightly as a relatively light shock tingled her thighs, buttocks, and tummy. At step seven, she yelped as a somewhat more intense shock hit the same areas and her nipples and clit. At step eight, she screamed as a significant shock tightened the muscles of her legs, bit at her clit and nipples, and tore through her pelvis between the rectal and vaginal electrodes.

Sweat was beginning to form on her body as the lights flashed once again and the beeps filled the room. This time there were twelve steps to the sequence. It was the same beginning sequence as before, red-blue-red-green-red-yellow-blue-green-blue-yellow, but this time it added green-yellow at the end.

Harold noticed that it was the same and managed to get the sequence right all the way to step eleven. He pressed yellow-green for the final two steps rather than green-yellow. 

Gloria yelped as the first shock tingled her muscles and the second bit at her nipples and clit.

The next sequence again remained the same, but added red-blue at the end. Gloria could always spot patterns and recognized that the sequences weren't random, but rather were the mix of potential combinations of colors on the device. If she were pushing the buttons, she would probably be able to get every sequence correct. Unfortunately, it was Harold, not Gloria, who was playing the game.

This time there were six incorrect steps. Harold evidently recognized the pattern, but kept skipping or repeating steps, and once out of sequence, the remaining steps were wrong. Gloria yelped, but not quite as loudly, as the nipple and clit clamps kicked in and she grunted when the internal electrodes forced the muscles of her pelvis to convulse. When the wrist and ankle electrodes were activated, however, Gloria screamed-- or at least she attempted to. All that came out was a strangled gurgle as her body shook and bounced with the electrical pulses that were flowing through it.

As Max had feared, Gloria lost control of her bladder and sprayed urine onto the protective covers which had been placed on the floor beneath her. When Max finished putting in his incorrect sequence, Gloria continued to buck and writhe for an additional thirty seconds until the units timed out.

"Fortunately for you," Max interjected, "the thirty-second time for the restraint electrodes is restarted each time they are activated. Otherwise you would have been in for several minutes of their pulses."

Gloria did not look as if she felt fortunate. She was panting heavily and trying to re-compose herself as the device kicked into a new sequence. Somehow, this time, Max was able to enter all fourteen steps correctly. Gloria sighed very deeply in relief while murmuring spread through the disappointed crowd. 

She gasped, however, as the next sequence started. The sequence was identical except it skipped the first color. If Max didn't notice that, he would get all sixteen steps wrong.

He did... get all sixteen steps wrong.




The Loophole - A Halloween Story



This time, Gloria not only lost control of her bladder and expelled what little urine was left in her system, she also lost control of her bowels. Despite the leather belt designed to hold it in place, she expelled the anal electrode along with a significant amount of fecal matter.

"Let's get her cleaned up a little before the next step, shall we?" Max said as the helpers hurried in with soapy water and towels. A few moments later Gloria was clean and again properly wired.

"This time it will just be sounds," Max said. Gloria moaned. She knew Harold was as tone deaf as a mule and sang like one. There was no way that he could get the sequences right.

But he did.

Actually, he couldn't tell one tone from another, but he just repeated the sequences that had flashed before him in the first five steps. That worked for the first four tone steps, but Harold had not noticed what was different about the final sequence and once again he got all sixteen steps wrong.

Gloria bucked and screamed as the pulses tore through her, but there was nothing left in her bladder or bowels, so at least this time she did not shit herself in public.

"Time for round two," announced Max and the diabolical game piece once again flashed eight colors. It was moving through the same combinations of colors, except this time it started with green-red rather than red-blue. Harold was a fast learner and he got the sequence right. He also got the ten, twelve, and fourteen step sequences correct. But once again, he was so fixated on the pattern that he didn't realize that the first step had been left out and got all sixteen steps wrong in the fifth sequence.

Between grunts and screams, Gloria managed to choke out, "Harold, you stupid son of a bitch, watch the damn colors."

Harold mumbled a soft, "Sorry," but Fred could also see that he was suppressing a smile. Perhaps Harold wasn't as stupid as his gold-digging wife thought him to be.

The tones again mimicked the colors and again Harold got the first four sequences correct, but missed all sixteen steps of the final sequence. By the time the pulses timed out, Gloria was now hanging limp in her restraints.

"One final round," Max announced.

Gloria raised her head. If she were running this game, the third round would employ a totally different method of setting up the sequences so that the player would be overwhelmed and unable to get any of the colors or tones correct.

But she wasn't running the game, and the only difference was that the sequences started with blue-red. Again Harold got the first four right and totally messed up the fifth sequence. When the thirty-second timer for the restraint pulses finally switched off, Gloria was muttering softly over and over, "Stupid son of a bitch, stupid son of a bitch, stupid son of a bitch."

The whole process repeated itself the final time through the tones. This time, during the fifth sequence, Gloria barely responded even to the heavy pulses that tore through her body from wrist to ankle. As the helpers removed her from her restraints, Max said, "I am sure that she will recover shortly, but just to be safe we are going to take her into one of the other rooms and have our standby doctor check her out."

He looked over at Harold and added, "It might help her to recover if you told her that your consolation prize is eighty thousand dollars."

Harold did not answer, but returned a broad smile. As the helpers carried the practically unconscious Gloria out of the room, he followed a little ways behind.

***

After they had left the room, Maxwell turned and surveyed the crowd. "Our first level of sexual sin was exhibitionism and voyeurism," he said. "Our second was consensual humiliation. The third was consensual pain. The fourth, non-consensual public display and voyeurism of that non-consensual exhibition. The fifth was non-consensual public humiliation. And the sixth was non-consensual sexual pain."

He slowly scanned the crowd, looking almost everyone present directly in the eyes for just a fleeting moment. "What then," he continued, "could possibly be our seventh level of sexual sin and depravity?"

Max paused. Several persons started to raise their hands or say something, but then fell back into silence. "There are several to choose from," he said, "but which would we choose to demonstrate in public?" Max laughed. "Some of the deepest sexual sins must never see the light of day."

He held his hand to his jaw as if pondering some great question. "Which sin is perverse enough to be at the seventh level, yet at the same time, tame enough to present at a party in front of dozens of witnesses?"

He turned around slowly scanning the faces of the partygoers. Then he continued, "It is so obvious, and yet so elusive. When I announce it, you will all think... or say... 'Of course!' But until I speak it, you will keep what it is carefully locked away in the back of your mind with all your deepest and darkest secrets for fear that what you are thinking may even be beyond the seventh level of sexual sin."

He turned to face Elvira, still held captive in her pillory, and then turned his gaze toward Dracula, who stood alone at the four podia. "The seventh level of sexual sin and depravity which we have chosen for this evening," he began slowly, "is sexual submission and slavery... and of course, its companion sin of owning and using such submissive slaves."

Pointing directly at Dracula, he said loudly, "That is what we are playing for in this round. If you lose, you and Wendy become Fred and Willie's sexual slaves for a period of one year."

He paused for effect and then said, "You could quit now and walk away with a consolation prize of $160,000 dollars. 

"Or," Max continued, "we could up the stakes-- and the risk-- and entice you to stay in the game."

The four helpers walked slowly into the room. It was obvious they were each carrying something very heavy. They walked to where the bar of gold bullion was sitting and each placed an identical bar alongside it. There were now five 400 ounce bars of gold bullion on the small platform.

"A consolation price of $160,000 dollars," Max said. "Or one year against one bar of bullion. ... Or the risk of permanent slavery against all five bars. Those five bars, at current market price, are worth somewhere north of three million dollars."

Bruce looked over at his partner and then back at Max. "One year or a lifetime really makes little difference," he said smugly. "I hear that you have a contract due and payable tonight that makes all of this moot."

"I guess I now know who invited our gate crashers and supplied them with the proper costumes," Fred said from somewhere in the crowd. Most of the party goers looked around totally confused. Bruce and Wendy, as well as one other couple in the crowd looked over directly to where the false Fallen One and imitation Mother of Lilith sat.

"Perhaps," said Dracula with a smile that showed his artificial fangs. He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps not. But in any case, we accept your terms. A lifetime of sexual slavery against five Good Delivery Certified bars of gold bullion."

Max walked back to his podium and picked up an envelope. "Our final question is in this envelope. All you need do to win the five bars of gold bullion is to answer it truthfully and correctly." He slapped the envelope against his palm and added, "And there is no time limit."

Max then tore open the envelope and removed a single sheet of ivory paper. "The question is this, 'Is it possible for a person to escape permanent captivity in hell at the end of the term of their contract with the Fallen One?'"

"I don't need even the five minutes to answer that one," Bruce snorted. "The answer is 'No!' Contracts with the Fallen One are iron clad. They are absolute and inescapable."

"I believe you... ... are wrong," came a deep voice from the edge of the room. All eyes turned to the source of the voice. The Fallen One and The Mother were standing next to the couch on which they had been seated.

"And I suppose you are some kind of authority on contracts with the Fallen One," said Bruce in his most sarcastic tone.

"No," the voice answered, "I am not SOME authority on contracts with the Fallen One. I am THE authority because I AM the Fallen One."

Bruce snorted in laughter, but those sitting closest to the standing couple were beginning to back away in fear. This was because they were close enough to see that it was the red-skinned woman, not the man who was speaking in such a deep voice.

The couple walked to the center of the room. The person in the Fallen One costume said-- in a rather high pitched voice for a man-- "We were going to wait until midnight to unmask, but it appears we have to do so a bit early." She then began to melt. So did The Fallen One.

Melting is the only word which describes what was happening. Their makeup... or skin... or costume... or whatever it was... began to slough off. But it didn't drip onto the floor, instead it congealed around their body in a slightly different form. Slowly the imitation Fallen One transformed into the true Mother of Lilith and the imitation Mother transformed into the true Fallen One.

"Had Frederick asked if it were possible for YOU to escape permanent captivity in hell," the deep voice continued, "then the answer would have definitely been 'No.'"

He laughed. It was a deep, resonant laugh that nearly froze the blood in the veins of the people who heard it. "But Fred has an older contract-- one of the last with a certain weakness in its language. Under the terms of that contract, all he and Willie had to do was enter into hell... enter, not stay there. If the circumstances were just right, they could enter and go THROUGH hell without staying permanently.

"And their faithful retainers, Maxwell and Marta, uncovered a way to symbolically do that by descending through the seven levels of sexual sin on this night in which their contract was due. They did that. They have gone through Hell and come out on the other side. That makes them the big winners for this evening."

He laughed a very deep and even more frightening laugh before pointing his finger directly at Dracula / Bruce and thundering, "And you... You lose!"

He laughed once again. This time a flash of heat pulsed through the room and a faint trace of sulfur became present in the air. He turned toward Fred and Willie. "As Maxwell had surmised, this little stunt does fulfill the terms of your contract. You are released from the completion payment. And because the contract is technically fulfilled, all the benefits offered under the contract remain in place."

The Fallen One and The Mother walked slowly to the front of the room to stand in front of Fred and Willie. "But you are perhaps wondering," he said, "why I did not simply derail your plans for this evening."

He turned to face the guests who were starting to huddle against the walls. "The answer to that is very simple. Once in a while someone has to beat the Devil at his own game. If no one was ever able to beat me, no one would ever enter into one of my contracts in the misguided hope that they would be lucky enough to someday escape the conditions of the contract."

He turned toward one small group which was cowering in the corner. "Believe me," he said, "you have a much better chance of winning the lottery."

The Mother laughed. Her laugh was much lighter than The Fallen One's and did not create the same icy fear in the people who heard it. "But once in a while," she said in her silvery voice, "someone does win the lottery even against such odds."

She turned to address Willie, "You have beaten the odds."

She then smiled. For some reason her smile, unlike her laugh, struck fear into the hearts of the guests. Perhaps it was because her teeth were sharp and pointed.

"Besides," she continued, scowling slightly, "Bruce and Wendy have really pissed me off over the years with their incessant bickering over minor terms and conditions of their contract."

The Fallen One again spoke-- this time directly to Bruce and Wendy. "You have made yourselves sexual slaves of Fred and Willie for the rest of your lives."

Now it was the Fallen One's turn to smile. He seemed to be now actually enjoying himself. "Because of our agreement," he said. "that will be a very, very long time. Should it get to be too much for you, perhaps you could initiate the early termination clause of the contract. I'm sure The Mother and I would be agreeable to that."

He turned toward Max and added, "And no, Max, early termination isn't in Frederick's contract either. It was added only a few centuries ago. Through the years, I've learned many things the hard way, just as many humans do."

Turning back toward Bruce, he said, "I will be watching over you to be sure that you live up to your wager. As a matter of fact, I am going to hang around tonight until you and Wendy kneel naked before Fred and Willie and officially submit yourself to them."

He snapped his fingers and suddenly Bruce and Wendy were standing naked in the middle of the room. Fred and Willie stepped forward to stand in front of them and The Fallen One said ominously, "You know what has to be done, you did it for me a long time ago."

Bruce and Wendy dropped to their knees and bowed low. Their heads touched the carpet in front of Fred and Willie. In unison they said, "I submit myself to you as your slave and sexual plaything forever."

Also in unison, they yelped and jumped to their feet. Both of their right buttocks were now smoking slightly. "As my parting gift to you, Fred, I branded them for you. You may notice that the brand on their right ass cheek says, 'Slave of Frederick and Wilhelmina Whetherington.' The older brand on their left cheek says, 'Property of The Fallen One.' 

"Remember, Fred," he said in a very stern voice, "despite the fact that my brand is only visible on this night or in my presence, it is always there. The wording of the other brand will remind you that although they are your slaves, they are my property." With that, the Fallen One and The Mother disappeared in a flash of flame and a cloud of smoke.

As the guests stood coughing and gasping in the acrid air Willie exclaimed, "Damn! He scorched the carpet again."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 

END OF STORY

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The Lord and Lady of Ashford Manor



Peter stood in the finely decorated vestibule of the Lord Ashford's manor house. He was a attractive young man, all of eighteen winters, with short, dark hair and pale, creamy skin. Currently he was dressed in the common garb of the peasantry: an overlarge homespun brown tunic, gray woolen leggings, and, his most expensive article, a pair of beaten leather boots. While normally his fair skin would have been covered in the dirt and grim of the fields in which he worked, Peter was freshly washed and shaved, to the point that both his skin and hair gleamed. 

For some indeterminable amount of time, Peter waited. Just as he began to feel that he had been forgotten, the vestibule doors opened and the beautiful, redheaded maid who had originally allowed the young man into the house signaled for Peter to follow her. 

"The good Lord and Lady Ashford will indeed see you, sir," the maid informed him as she lead young Peter through the winding halls of the huge mansion.

"You need not call me that, good woman, I am but a simple commoner," Peter quickly replied in his quiet, gentle manner.

"That you are, sir, as am I, but the Lord bids all his servants to have the utmost respect for all the people dwelling in his domain. And if you strive to be a servant yourself, they I suggest you do the same." The maid turned to face Peter and winked friendlily.

Peter returned her wink with a grin and said: "Then I shall, malady." 

They both smiled at that. 

"If the Lord and Lady approve of you, which they no doubt will, you should do fine here. The work is not to long and the rewards for faithful service are great indeed... Ah! Here we are." The maid cut herself off as she at last found the door to the Lord's private quarters. 

She opened the large door and lead Peter into the dark sitting room. Peter couldn't see anything in the room, but he was sure that their were others in the room.

"Please relight the candles, Mary, they went out as soon as you left and either of us can be bothered to do it ourselves." A melodious voice asked from the shadows. 

"Yes, please do, Mary. I want to see this young peasant boy who comes to us." Added a second, this one decidedly feminine. 

Mary, the maid, responded that, yes, she would be happy to aid her sovereigns. She then quickly went to work replacing the candles and lightening them and soon the room was illumined in their bright, yellow glow. 

Peter's eyes drifted to the direction from which he had heard the voices and with a small gasp, understood why the nobles could not be bothered to change the candles themselves. On one end of a large, overstuffed velvet couch sat the Lord Ashford, dressed in fine garb of royal purple. He was pale skinned, like Peter himself, but his hair was of a dark brown hue. His wife, the Lady Ashford, was laid out on the rest couch. She was decked out in a white corset with blue frillings and skirt. She was, perhaps, the most beautiful woman Peter had ever seen. She had the same complexion as Mary the maid (indeed, many women in the area), with creamy white skin and stunning red hair. What set her apart from even the buxom Mary was her unbelievably large breasts which threatened at any moment to burst through her tight corset. But it was not what Lady Ashford looked like, but what she was doing, to the Lord Ashford to be specific, which shocked young Peter. His Highness currently had his enormous penis unsheathed from his tight trousers and Her Highness was bobbing her head up and down, her expert lips massaging his shaft while she sucked with her mouth and her petite left hand played with his full ball sack or dipped down to stick his middle finger into his anus. Peter just stood there dumbly, unable to even bow to his betters. 

Seeming to ignore Peter, the Lord Ashford thanked the maid and then commanded her to wait outside until she was again required. Mary curtsied and left. 

"Now," Ashford began, "why is that you have come to me and my Lady wife today?" At that time, the Lord Ashford had placed his left hand on his wife hand and was pushing down, prompting her to deepthroat him. 

"Lord..." Peter stammered, still unable to keep his eyes off the Lady and her act. 

Ashford laughed aloud and replied to this: "Well, it seems I am a most horrible host. Would you like to join her?"

"Sir?" Peter gasped.

"I said: would you like to join her? My wife, she loves to suck cock with another helping her, especially men. I must say I enjoy it as well." He grabbed his large ball sack and shook it at Peter. "Come on, I haven't cum all day. If you suck me well, then I'll give you the whole load." The Lord cried out when his Lady bit his cock. "Don't worry, dear, he'll share, I'm sure." 

Perhaps it was because he was so stunned at this unimaginable request was the reason why Peter obeyed, for surely under any other circumstance he would have fled. The husband youth walked over to the nobles and got down on his knees. Ashford's huge, pale cock stood erect, glistening, and inviting. 

The Lady Ashford stopped her sucking and allowed the cock to loudly pop out of her mouth. "Have you ever sucked cock before?" she asked, her voice husky. 

Peter shook his head slowly in the negative. "Wonderful!" she cried, "I love being a tutor! Now, let me get more comfortable first." She then sat up and began to undo her corset. In a matter of moments, the Lady's giant (but amazingly firm) breasts were bare and in a flash the rest of her attire was gone. She stood before Peter, nude, her body completely hairless, like a gleaming, mythical nymph.

Knelling beside the commoner, the Lady gripped her husband's cock and pointed it toward Peter. 

"First, I want you to kiss the head." When Peter hesitated, she caught Peter by the back of his head and pushed him forward until his puckered lips touched the gleaming head of her Lord husband's cock. 

"I can see this is going to take some time," Lord Ashburn said with a sigh. "Mary!" he cried. "Please come in and help my wife." Mary soon arrived, nude save for the frilly white maid's skirt and bonnet she had been wearing before. 

"My Lord?" She asked on her arrival. 

"This good visitor wants so desperately wishes to make me cum, but he still has his reservation. I want you to loosen him up while my Lady wife helps him to suck me." 

Smiling, she did as she was demanded. Mary went to work, helping Peter out of his clothes. When he stood nude before his sovereigns, they gasped at his incredible, half-hard cock. 

"And I thought I was large!" the Lord Ashburn cried. Then, as if remember Peter had come to him for specific purpose, demand: "Tell me boy, why have you come to give my household such a gift?" 

Loudly swallowing, Peter hurriedly replied: "My Lord, I seek employment in your fine manor home. I was not made for fieldwork and my father and brother have tired of my physical weakness and if ever I wish to find I place for myself in the world, they told me I would have to work as a butler, for you my Lord." His spiel complete, Peter bowed low. 

Smiling broadly, Lord Ashburn informed that a job in his service was available to one such as him, but, he added: "You must first suck my cock and allow me to fuck you. You see, in my household I believe it is proper for all the noblemen and women to love all their servants, even those of the same gender, physically to insure their loyalty." 

"All members of the Ashburn House are physically blessed and very talented in sexual matters," Lady Ashburn added. 

"Yes," Lord Ashburn agreed, "if a man be loath to bite the hand that feeds him, he will be doubly loath to renounce the cock which fucks him so well." Both the Lord and Lady laughed aloud at that moment. "Now, I want you sit on Mary's lovely face so she can loosen up that beautiful ass of yours for while my cock is not nearly size of yours, it is still quite large." 

Peter, now no longer afraid and indeed unbelievably horny, looked down and found Mary on her back her head between his feet. Grinning, Peter squatted low, until his ass was just hovering over the lovely maid's face. Mary then gripped Peter's butt cheeks and brought him down the rest of the way. He groaned loudly as her tongue found its way into his anus. While Peter's mouth was opened in pleasure, the Lord Ashburn took the opportunity, stood up, and put the large head of his cock into Peter's gapping mouth. 

Because Peter was forced to balance himself on his hand while Mary eat him, it was left to the Lady Ashburn to feed her husband's cock to the young man. "Does that taste good?" she asked huskily. 

"Yes!" Peter cried around his mouthful of cock. 

"Then take in more!" She cried back and pushed on her husband's ass, forcing more of his cock down the boy's throat. 

Overcome with lust, Lord Ashburn grabbed Peter by back of his head and began to forcefully fuck the young man's mouth. "Oh, I can't take it anymore!" He scream and pushed Peter off Mary's face and in an instant had in on the floor on all fours. Aligning up his huge cock with Peter, tight, gleaming asshole, Lord Ashburn pushed forward and forced some six inches into the boy's ass. Peter shrieked, first in pain and then in total pleasure. 

Lord Ashburn pumped all of himself into Peter as he could and in a few minutes his foot long cock was buried to the hilt in Peter's tight, hot asshole. 

For what seemed like hours, they fucked. Soon, Peter realized that someone was sucking on his cock and that his face was buried in a hairless pussy. In his bliss, he couldn't decide which woman he was eating and who was sucking him.

After a great length of time, Lord Ashburn pulled out of Peter's ass and brought him up by the scruff of the neck Peter could finish him off with his mouth. Not caring that the cock had just moments before been deep within his ass, Peter greedily suck the thing clean and then beat it off with his hands until his Lord was at long last ready. 

The load was huge, spilling out over the sides of Peter's mouth. But the boy swallowed it all, greatly enjoying the taste of sperm. 

The servant smiled up at his lord.

"Yes," Lord Ashburn said, "I think you shall do well here."

To Be Continued... 



The Lord Fletcheour



This is the first of a series of short stories about Lord Fletcheour and his realm of Vicmarian that existed almost a thousand years ago in the extreme northern part of what is today Great Britain. 

Early in the eleventh century the world was very much a different place. Lord Fletcheour was Lord of the manor and had acquitted his title and grant to his lands from his father who had died in battle while on one of the many crusades to the holy land. When he had taken over the estates in his early twenties Lord Fletcheour had immediately begun to redefine the way that his lands were run and administered. As a result of his efforts he had achieved a strong, prosperous and happy little realm with the primary commodity and focus being women.

From his earliest days Lord Fletcheour had intuitively understood that the world of men focused on the charms of fairer sex. Men fought one another, conspired, killed and conquered primarily to acquire and enjoy the company and bodies of women. He was determined that this would not be a factor in the lands under his control. As luck would have it his lands were in the very far reaches of the empire and were protected on three sides by the rough cold north seas and by largely impenetrable mountains on the land side where there were a minimal number of passes. Lord Fletcheour made certain that he paid all of his taxes to the King in a timely fashion with extra special gifts sent on a regular basis to curry favor. He also made sure that he supplied enough men to kingdom's army to cover all of his conscription calls. For this reason he never brought disfavor upon his lands or created envy on the part of others in the kingdom.

His lands consisted of the main city Vicmarian and three smaller villages with numerous outlying farms. The area was known for its fine dairy products, sheep and the variety of seafood that the fisherman harvested. The entire realm consisted of about three thousand five hundred souls four hundred of whom were men who were either in the regular guard or militia. The head of the well-trained army was Lord Fletcheour's devoted younger brother who kept order and quietly dispatched any man or woman who even hinted of posing a threat to the status quo. 

The people who lived in the manor ranged from slaves to freemen and each owed the Lord certain services ranging from rents to yearly services. Each man owned his land at the pleasure of Lord Fletcheour and had to do as he was commanded or could be expelled from the land and losing his home and all of his possessions often even including his wife and children. It was a very rare occasion when one of the citizens found Lord Fletcheour's displeasure. Those who did were not expelled they simply disappeared.  

The key part of the fiefdom's success was Lord Fletcheour's two cousins whose job it was to travel around the entire kingdom and bring new settlers to the territory. By design they would travel primarily to workhouses and orphanages and select comely young maidens and young men always by a factor of at least two females for each male. Lord Fletcheour always insisted that the new citizens be at least eighteen years of age and few were older than twenty. The two men would make a dozen such trips a year and as a result there was always new blood coming into the area with the majority being young ladies. The young men would be sent to the farms and the army for training and the young women would be adopted into the community in a number of different capacities. There were always families eager to accept them into their homes for they would receive added stipends for doing so.

Times were peaceful as every man knew for fact certain that he would have a wife to keep his house and share his bed. If a woman would perish in an accident or during childbirth another female was always available to quickly fill her place. There were also a number of brothels that were kept around the land where a man might always sample a fresh taste of female flesh when he grew bored at home. The Lord understood that every man wanted a strange soft female wiggle under him from time to time. It made the home happier and for the most part prevented lusting for another man's woman. On occasion some of the women were sent to places like North Africa and Arabia where they were bartered for fine goods and strong horses. 

All in all it had been an extremely successful plan for almost fifteen years. The result was that everyone remained happy and content.

At the moment it was a beautiful spring evening outside with the gentle fragrant breeze blowing through the open windows of the manor house. Lord Fletcheour sat on a large cushioned chair in one of his bedrooms. A beautiful young lady was brought into the room that he used for the regular ritual that he was about to execute. He nodded at the squire who had brought her in and the man quickly left the room. He remained silent and looked at the woman who stood before him with head bowed looking intently at her feet. One of the rules of the kingdom was droit de seigneur also known as jus primae noctis, which gave him, the High Lord, the right to have the bride of any marriage on his lands on her wedding night. It was a right that he exercised very frequently. In fact it was quite rare when he didn't bed a new bride. It was a commonly whispered joke that many of the young children of the fiefdom had the physical characteristics of the Lord of the manor.

The girl before him had been married that very afternoon to an older farmer who had lost his first wife and as part of the law had been brought to him, as was convention, by the man's father after the festive ceremony. She was relatively attractive with a lovely mane of long brown hair. She seemed to have a nice round body under her dress, a body that would bring her husband many nights of warmth and pleasure during the cold winters.

"What is your name child," he asked.

"I am called Beverly, My Lord," she responded still looking at her feet.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"I turned eighteen last week, My Lord" she responded. He wanted to be certain that his rules were being faithfully followed that no maiden were to be taken before they passed that birth date.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked, getting pleasure from the tormenting of the young woman and feeling his cock beginning to swell with anticipation.

"Yes, My Lord, I have been told that you have the right to my maidenhead."

"That is quite true. It would please me a great deal if you would disrobe my dear," he said in a stern assertive tone that left no room for her to disobey.

Lord Fletcheour was man in his late thirties who had never taken a wife. He had no reason to as he had plenty of women to enjoy and didn't want the aggravation of a wife and partner. Marriage would have to be for others. He had though fathered a son with one of the chambermaids that he recognized as his heir who was named Alfred. He had an exceedingly special arrangement for Alfred and this young woman standing before him. He had done so because there was another beautiful bride that was to be brought to him the very next day for her deflowerment. She was an incredibly lovely blond named Heather whom he had been keeping an eye on since she had reached puberty and had begun to blossom. He had considered at one point that when she became of marriageable age that he would take her as his bride but had tarried and she had chosen another for her betrothal. Regardless or more honestly because of his loss he wanted to enjoy her completely throughout the next night as he had dreamt of her for years. He didn't want the girl currently standing in front of him to diminish any of his pent up ardor for Heather. There was no way that he would allow her to do anything to weaken him to the point where he did not succeed in having Heather return to her husband already pregnant with his child.

He watched as Beverly demurely cast off her clothes and laid them on the floor. She shed not only her outer clothing but also her undergarments without being told to do so. Her skin was very pale, her bosom exceptionally full with large button shaped rose colored nipples that were hard and erect with excitement. She was a short girl with strong legs that were well shaped and he saw a full nest of brown hair covering her pussy.

"Turn around for me darling and let your arms hang at your sides," he said knowing that his voice had cracked a little from the lust that he was suddenly feeling building within him. If it were not for what he had promised for himself with Heather the next night he would have gleefully thrown the wench on the large bed and taken her a number of times with great vigor over the coming night. 

As she turned he saw that she had an especially nice round and pink bottom that begged to be mounted from behind. When she completed her turn he rose and began to discard his robes. He undressed very slowly as she stood there nude and defenseless. 

Quietly and at a snail's pace he circled her, enjoying her discomfort and fear. Standing behind her he leaned forward and smelled her hair, which was flower scented from the wedding ceremony. Carefully he then lifted it off of her shoulders and kissed her soft exposed neck. He let his lips explore her tender flesh and taste her sweet young tender skin. Beverly shuddered and he heard a soft whimper come from her lips. Lord Fletcheour's cock was slowly beginning to become fully erect and raise. He stepped back from her a few inches and took her soft round ass checks in his hands and tenderly massaged them. They were exquisite and would provide a wonderful perfect cushion for a man rutting her from behind. Coming around to her side he reached over and took her full right tit in his palm and squeezed it. It was more than a handful, perfectly shaped and firm. He rubbed his palm over the globe and then took her hardened nipple and pinched it tenderly until he heard her gasp.

He stepped back away and took a full measure of the young woman. She was more impressive than he had expected. She was definitely too good for any dirt farmer. Having a great body, which she did, was one thing. If she showed an inclination to be a slut then he might have to rethink her future. 

"Have you been instructed by your mother or others in the ways of man and the woman's role in the marriage bedroom?" He asked.

"Yes, My Lord. I am aware of what my duties are."

Leaving her he crossed over to the bed and pulled back the coverlets and sheets. There were massive pillows piled against the headboard and he laid back upon the bed with his shoulders settled into the soft pillows.

"Come to me here dear and let us see what you might learn."

For the first time she raised her head to see Lord Fletcheour as he lay upon the large bed. She had only seen him in the past in his official capacity as he made his way around the land and visited properties and attended functions. He was a big man for his time of just over six foot in stature. His long brown hair fell to his very broad massive shoulders. His body was incredibly muscular and toned from the many hours that he spent working at the martial arts, always having to be prepared to defend his life and position for those who might try to usurp him. Like a bear of the woods his body was matted with a thick pelt of brown hair from his chest down to where his large cock thrust boldly into the air. Over the years a good number of the realms women had laid with the High Lord and many spoke in nervous giggles about his size and prowess with his male appendage. She had seen young boys and a few men as they bathed as she had grown up; it was difficult to maintain total modesty with most bathing taking place in public ponds and streams. She had not, though, ever seen a man in full erection and certainly had never imagined that a man would sport what she saw rising from Lord Fletcheour's belly. 

"Don't dawdle girl come here," he said with some irritation. His need was dreadfully great and even though he did not intend to fuck her he needed the pleasure of her young body to calm him.

She crawled up on the soft bed, and he corralled her between his spread powerfully built thighs using his leg. She found herself facing him with her head only inches away from his cock, which was like a large snake as round as her forearm standing ridgely before her and staring at her with a single eye.

"How were you instructed to please a man's cock young lady," he asked as he watched her staring transfixed at his erection. Taunting her he flexed his cock and the shaft twitched and throbbed as though it had a mind of its own and intentions on the new young wife's tender soft body. 

"I was simply told to lay back and spread my thighs and allow my husband to enter me and spray his life giving seed into my belly whenever he so chose."

"Then you and any man who was fortunate enough to bed you were done a disservice," he said with anger. "Who instructed you so?" He demanded.

"My mother," she said beginning to cry. 

"I will make sure that she receives additional instruction before she next attempts to impart any further wisdom," he said. He remembered her mother and began to formulate a plan for her re-education and punishment. He knew she had three other younger daughters and wanted to make certain they were better prepared for bedding, especially if they were as enchanting as this one.

Beverly had tears running down her cheeks and did not dare misbehave. 

"You are now passing from being a girl to a woman and a woman's master is a man's cock. You need to get to know how a man likes his cock satisfied. Do not use your hands but lean forward and let the shaft caress your face, feel it against the softness of your cheek, smell the musk of man that will excite and bring forth the juices in your cunt." 

The young wife instantly did as she was told and found that she loved the feeling of his silky hard shaft rubbing against her face. It was smooth and hot and the head had a different texture. The odor was, in fact, intoxicating and she felt a delicious new sensation stirring between her legs. Without being asked she began to kiss the stalk and trace the large veins with her tongue. She found that she could move the thick veins back and forth under the skin a little and that the shaft would shudder in response. The rod did have a life of its own and twitched and trembled as she found places that created a response when touched by her inexperienced but eager tongue. 

"Explore my balls now girl. Use your lips and tongue as you have and urge them to discharge the sperm that your body needs." 

His balls were large and the sack they hung in was wrinkled and covered with coarse curly hair. Beverly had watched dogs lick themselves so she followed the example and nuzzled her nose into his sack and then began to lick the big orbs wetting them with her saliva and gently massaging them. She heard him moan and found delight in bringing the Lord pleasure.

"Place you hands around my shaft and take me now into your soft mouth my pet," he instructed.

She rapped her soft hands around the warm throbbing shaft in front of her and lowered her head until the purple tip of his cock met her lips. She licked the head and ran her tongue around the edge of the crown drawing a shudder from the man. Lord Fletcheour grew tired of the game and frustrated from her teasing. He needed the warm comfort of her body and grabbed her by the back of her head and thrust himself deep into her mouth until she began to gag and struggle.

"Enough!" he cried. "Do not fight it, relax and suck on my cock girl. I need to be pleased or you will grow sorry quickly."

Terrified she began to suck on the shaft. She marveled at the way she quickly learned how to let the shaft slide down her throat without choking by breathing through her nose. She discovered that by flexing her throat she could make him jerk and that by wrapping her tongue around the shaft she could make him moan. She realized that at that moment she had some power over him and wondered what that might mean.

Lord Fletcheour was astounded at how quickly the wench picked up the fine art of cocksucking, she was a born natural and her husband was destined to have a fine woman if he were smart enough to insist that she do her womanly connubial duties. He suspected that her new husband was like her mother and would simply mount her and fuck her oblivious to the finer sensual arts. He laid back; his fingers gently curled within her long dark curly hair and enjoyed her ministrations as she consumed him. He instructed her when to let him slide out and lick and when to suck and take him deep him to her throat. He found that after a few moments of instruction that she was able to sense what worked best and he closed his eyes and let her toil at her sensual task.

He heard a noise and looked up to see that his son Alfred had arrived as he had been told to do. Alfred had reached maturity and was a smaller version of his father. At his father's insistence he spent the greater part of the day learning military arts with instructors and tutors and was in exceptional shape with a hard toned body. 

Beverly too heard something behind her and tried to rise up from her impalement but he kept her firmly in place, his cock firmly imbedded now in her throat.

"Disrobe and join us my son," he directed. 

Alfred quickly threw off his clothes while keeping his eyes fixated on his father and the young soft pale girl on the bed. He had never been invited so into his fathers chambers and was mesmerized by what he was observing. The girl obviously had his father's manhood in her mouth and he saw her head bob up and down while his father kept his hands firmly on her head. She was on her knees and he could see her sleek soft white back and large butt thrusting into the air. He felt himself begin to swell and grow.

"This wench is newly married today Alfred and we are to take her virginity for our tax. As the product of my loins and heir to these estates I am giving you her maidenhood as a gift and promise for the future. Someday it will be your task to deflower the female product of our lands and you must learn how to properly do so with the lust and skill that they deserve and which is your right."

Alfred was at full erection and had climbed up upon the bed between the girl's legs. His father noted that he had grown up to have a nice solid stalk, which was not as prodigious as his father's but one that the ladies would be pleased to accommodate.  

"Stop right there!" his father yelled as his son was preparing to mount the young recently married woman. "Do not dishonor yourself or this delightful creature who presents herself before you for deflowering my son." 

Alfred looked puzzled and maintained his position while holding his engorged cock positioned at where the virgin's pussy awaited.

"She presents you with the ultimate gift from God my son. Do not let your desire and haste deprive you of the entirety of the gift or deprive you or your filly of the complete rapture that is offered to you. For God's sale lean down and kiss her magnificent soft rear and while you are doing so let you hands reach under her and take her full marvelous tits in your hands and enjoy them. There will be plenty of time and opportunities over this night for you to plant your seed in her womb."

Alfred did as he was told. Lord Fletcheour watched as the young man kissed the globes of her soft ass and reached his arms down under Beverly and grasped her hanging soft round breasts. He felt the girl move and heard a soft moan from her mouth that was imbedded with his swollen cock.

"Have you not watched the stallions in the field prepare their mares for breeding Alfred? Place your face into her and find her womanhood with your lips and tongue. Seek out her little nub and rub it, slide your tongue over her nether lips and as deep into her tight cunny as you can. Be gentle at first and she will surprise you in time and reward you with an even greater surrender and ardor than you can ever imagine."




The Lord Fletcheour



He watched as the young man began to feast between the thighs of the virgin while he massaged her tits and pinched her tender erect nipples. He could hear the wet sounds increase as he lapped at the woman's sex and her juices freed themselves and began to flow. The young girl's breathing became more rapid and her moans irregular and more intense. Lord Fletcheour kept her head firmly so that she could not move from her kneeling and splayed position as his son used his tongue to dig into her from behind.

Lord Fletcheour found the situation to be incredibly exciting. Only a short time before the previously unspoiled naked creature between them had been with her family taking the blessed Christian vows of marriage. At that very moment her new loving husband awaited her return to their home so that he could consummate their union in their marriage bed. But that was never going to happen before the High Lord and his son, as the law dictated, robbed her of her virginity and enjoyed her as they pleased. What made it all the more stimulating was that, as her now slowly gyrating ass revealed, she was becoming increasingly aroused and every bit as anxious to be mounted and bred as Alfred was to break through her maidenhood and begin to fuck her.

Even though his erection remained firmly between her lips Beverly had virtually stopped her ministrations to the Lord's cock as the efforts of Alfred began to overwhelm her with sensations and feelings that she had never imagined even in her most livid passionate dreams. Lord Fletcheour let her be and watched as his son doubled his efforts as he sensed that the woman was becoming progressively more aroused. 

The girl's body began to gently tremble causing her ass to wiggle and move seductively. She made a primal guttural noise that turned into a deep moan and then scream as the first orgasm of her life took control of her body. Beverly arched her back and allowed the Lord's cock to slip from her mouth as tremors reached every corner of her body. 

Instinctively Alfred knew that this moment was that which his father had spoken of earlier and immediately slid his cock into the young wife's now swollen gaping pussy shredding her hymen and sliding deep into her belly in one single stroke. Beverly screamed in pain and pleasure as the young man forcefully rammed his shaft into her no longer virgin cunt. Alfred looked down and saw that his cock was red with the blood of the woman's deflowerment.

Lord Fletcheour silently moved off the bed as the girl dug her fingers into the coverlets and braced herself as Alfred began to hump forcefully deeper and deeper into her belly with each stroke. 

The smell of sex and the sounds of the rutting young pair created extreme sexual tension in the High Lord. His cock remained fully erect and throbbed from having been ministered to but not yet been milked of seed. 

A corner door opened and Hilda, one of the maidservants, came in bringing a tankard of ale. He knew that she had been listening and even perhaps peeking for the right moment to enter. Hilda was a buxom lass of twenty years with long red hair whom he fucked on a very regular basis. Many a night she ended up spending hours in his bed as he enjoyed her in every hedonistic manner he could devise. There was a rule of the manor that the seed of the Lord was never to be ejaculated except into the orifice of a woman. He kept attractive girls like Hilda around so there was always an available compliant pussy, mouth or ass for him to penetrate when he became aroused and had the need for release.

Hilda handed him the ale, released her flaming scarlet hair and pulled her top off of her shoulders and down to her waist revealing her very large soft pale breasts. She leaned forward until she could place Lord Fletcheour's neglected erection into her cleavage and then pushed her hands on the outside of her tits to enfold herself around him. Slowly she began to move, sliding his cock up and down in the extremely soft surroundings. Each time the purple plum like end of his shaft would slide out of the whiteness she would kiss the head and then lick the exposed rod with her tongue removing the precum that oozed out. 

Hilda was, by far, the most gifted cocksucker of all of the housemaidens. She had the ability to bring his release incredibly close, allowing him to have the first wonderful tingles and spasms of release and then bring him back down before he came. It was an amazing skill that kept him on the edge of orgasm for as long as she wanted. He had learned that after having Hilda satisfy him in that matter that his resulting eruption was intense and substantial.

Lord Fletcheour was quite content with Hilda's attentions to his amorous needs and looked back over to the bed. Alfred held Beverly firmly by her hips and was rutting steadily into her. He watched as his son rubbed his hands gently back and forth over her soft back and full ass and then reached under her and took her swinging tits into his hands and squeezed them. His rhythm never changed as he pistoned his cock in and out of her receptive wet cunt. He very well may have been mistaken, considering the nature of the realm, but Lord Fletcheour did not believe that his son had ever had a woman and was very impressed with the young man's natural inclinations and talents. He seemed to have instinctively figured out how to best manipulate and control his breed mare. The young man's grunts and Beverly's moans each time he thrust deep into her body were beautiful and intoxicating. 

"Oh my God please, please don't stop," she unexpectedly cried as he pulled his reddened engorged cock out of her. She wiggled her ass to entice him to remount her.

Alfred rolled her off of her knees and over onto her back. She looked up at him and spread her legs wide in wanton invitation. Her body was pink and flushed from exertion and excitement and her pussy was soaked and matted with her juices. Alfred moved up over her and his shaft easily found her gaping open cunt and slid easily back deep inside her warmth and slippery wetness.

"Oh thank you My Lord," she sighed as there pubic bones nestled back together and he began to once again thrust into her oh so very willing and receptive body. Alfred let his head down and began to suck and chew on her magnificent nipples as his rhythm returned to a regular pace.

No matter how well the young man was doing in taming and enjoying the young wife Lord Fletcheour knew that, with little doubt, the woman would soon draw a climax from the nineteen year old boy who was becoming a man but was still inexperienced and could only hold out soon long before accepting his pleasure.

Alfred began to ferociously hammer his cock deep into the young woman. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his pounding muscular back and placed her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down to hers and they kissed and nuzzled each other in affectionate appreciation for the pleasure that each was giving to the other. The very last thing that the girl had on her mind at the moment was her new but much older husband who was continuing to wait forlornly for her return. 

Progressively Alfred's fucking cadence changed becoming more erratic and ferocious. His breathing became labored and than a deep primal groan came from him as he his orgasm began to build from the small of his back and spread throughout his body. Suddenly he drove incredibly hard into the helpless but willing female and buried himself deep into the young girl's cunt and growled like a lion of Africa throwing his head from side to side as he emptied himself into her belly. Beverly simply screamed like she had been run asunder by a long sword and drew him close very to her as their bodies became one and his sperm sprayed freely inside of her.

Lord Fletcheour smiled with pride in his son and the successful deflowerment of the young bride. He acknowledged that a woman never forgot the first time that she was laid and knew that this had, in fact, been a wonderful moment for Beverly. In many respects it was the most important life transition for a female as she went from being a girl to a woman with an entirely different relationship with men in the future. He had always felt that honor demanded that the maiden come away from droit de seigneur with as many positive memories as possible. His pride wanted her to remember the moment as the most intense satisfying sex that she would ever have. It also was good politics. If the women were abused or raped and sent back to their husbands bruised and terrified then, in time, the people would rise up and rebel. As a result of his attentions it was it was not an isolated incident when a wife would secretly return to the manor house and beg the Lord of the Manor to bed them once again. It was a request that he would always gratefully grant for her but often on his own very creative terms.

As the young couple came together Hilda finally intensified her efforts and allowed his cock to glide down her throat. Using her talent mouth she began to milk him and within a very few seconds felt his cock begin to jerk and the sweet cum began to spray down her throat. She swallowed as quickly as she could but some leaked out around his cock and onto her lips and chin. He had intended on saving ever drop for Heather but knew there would be much more ready for her when the time came.

Hilda rose and went over to and on the bed and looked down at Beverly who was flushed with arousal and satiation from her head to her toes. Alfred had rolled off of her body and was laying at her side, his cock rapidly diminishing against his belly. 

"I have the seed of out Lord on my lips and chin. Take them and you will have his blessing for your marriage," she said bringing her face to Beverly's.

Beverly licked Hilda's chin and lips until all of Lord Fletcheour's sperm was gone. Hilda then gave Beverly a long sensual open mouth kiss, which the young wife returned with enthusiasm. In the course of just over an hour the inexperienced girl had lost her inhibitions and was reveling in her natural wantonness.

"Shall I have her dress and return her to her husband, My Lord?" Hilda asked.

"No Hilda, Alfred seems to be besotten with the pretty lass. Let him take her to his chambers for the night where he can fuck her at his leisure and then return her to her husband in the morning when he has finished with her."

"What task have you been trained in my dear?" he asked of Beverly who was trying to deal with the fact that she was not going to be returning to her husband that night but was destined to be continued to be fucked by the young man lying next to her as she had just been until daylight dawned at last. She was troubled that she had very mixed feelings about the decision.

"I have been trained as a cook, My Lord," she said and then moaned as she felt Alfred's lips circle her right nipple and begin to suckle as his hand found its way between her thighs and two of his fingers entered her wet slick cunt.

"Hilda talk to the kitchen and make sure that Beverly has a position on our staff. I want her here every single day first thing every morning before the cock crows." He looked over to the bed where the young woman lay moaning as his son continued to suckle her tit. "In that manner young Alfred there can fuck her at his wish and not have to worry about her husband interfering." And me too he thought remembering the delicious feeling of his hands roaming the young wife's soft supple body and of her attentiveness and skill when his cock was in her mouth. He was suddenly quite jealous of Alfred and wondered if he had made the right decision concerning the lass. 

"Thank you father," said Alfred as he raised his head up off of the breast of the woman.

"With my genes in you, your young enthusiasm and her husband I suspect this filly will be repeatedly fucked and will be swollen with child in no time at all," he chuckled. "When her belly has grown to a point where you are willing to allow her to become, at last, a wife and mother let me know and I will find you a suitable replacement so that your education and needs can be dealt with."

He watched as Alfred easily lifted Beverly into his arms and carried her naked out of the room to the hallway that led to his chambers for the night.

A young girl like Beverly was perfect for Alfred to fuck for a first venting and discovery of his male needs and abilities. He had already decided that he would next need a more mature and experience woman to teach him technique, someone like Hilda to coach him on the bedroom arts.

For now he needed to get some rest and begin thinking of how he was going to ravish the beautiful maiden Heather on her wedding day to follow.



The Lord of Hatred



After an hour of napping, Zero awoke to hear someone whispering her "Diablo 2" screen name. "Zero… oh, Zero…" Wondering who could be in her room, Zero looked up and saw a form leaning over her. It appeared to be Mephisto, the demon from Act 3 of Diablo 2, a computer game she liked to play. Assuming she was just dreaming, she rubbed her eyes and sat up and it turned out that the Lord of Hatred himself, this demon of hate was really standing right in her room. He offered his hand to her, and she took hold of it. She didn't know why, but she felt compelled by some strange force to be with him. She had seen him on her computer screen many times before, glowing with an aura of electricity, his lips parted in a half sneer. He was a powerful demon, and always killed her characters in one hit if she let them get too close on the screen. 

As she took his hand, Zero found that he felt warm and tender, almost hypnotic. He drew her close to his body, and suddenly, in a flash of light, Zero found herself in the middle of a dark room. It appeared to be a sort of dungeon, but was also partly a bedroom by the looks of it, for in the middle there was a nicely made bed with black sheets and pillows on it. The floor was cold hard stone, and the walls were stone as well. Torches were lit on each wall, illuminating Zero and the Lord of Hate in a soft orange, almost romantic and yet sinister, glow.

Zero looked inquisitively up at Mephisto, and he grinned evilly at her. "You thought you could fuck with me in the game and not expect to get fucked in return?" he said to her in a not so nice tone. 

"I know what you're thinking every time you play that stupid game, you think you're just going to march in here with your powerful weapons and destroy me so that you can loot my body and take all of my gold and my magical and rare items. Well, now you don't have any of your fancy weapons, all you have is yourself, and I plan to take full advantage of your human weakness."

Zero stepped back in fear. The look of pure hatred in his eyes was frightening. He gave her another menacing smile and began to advance slowly towards her. Frantically looking around, Zero spotted a door. She ran for it and tried desperately to open it. It was locked. She glanced back at Mephisto and he was walking slowly toward her, enjoying her fear, knowing that there was no way she would escape him and his evil plans for her. 

Succumbing finally to her defeat, she stopped pulling at the door and let Mephisto's hands drag her back to the bed. Violently, he thrust her upon it, and then in one swift movement was on top of her, his face close to hers. 

She looked straight into his face. "You awful demon," Zero snarled, and to this, she received a hard slap in the face. 

"Shut up." Mephisto growled. With one finger, he began to trace down her body, beginning at her lips, and going down her breasts to her thighs. "If you scream, nobody will come for you, and if you try to struggle, you'll only end up hurt, so I suggest you lay still and enjoy it." Then, slowly, he drew a small knife from his pocket and began to slice her T-shirt off. He left her skirt and bra on as he began to lick her neck, nibbling at her, and making his way down her stomach as she whimpered his name. She had fantasized about this moment before, wondering what it would be like to be fucked by a powerful being like Mephisto, but then, it had only been a fantasy, a sexual fantasy that should not ever become real. Unfortunately, this was reality.

Mephisto lay right on top of her, and began to grind his now hard cock into her pussy. Even though their clothing, Zero could tell that he was huge, and rock hard. He began pushing against her in a rhythmic motion, all the wile whispering vile threats into her ears. "I'm going to get revenge on you for what you have done to me in your silly game you cunt. I'm going to use my ultimate weapon of darkness, my own cock, to destroy every part of your being. I will rape every part of you, till you have given yourself over to me, and even then, I shall not stop until I have been thoroughly satisfied by the pleasures which your body has to offer, and honestly, from the looks of you, I may just want to keep you around for my pleasure for the rest of your life. You will not sleep without feeling my cock inside of you, nor will you bathe without me watching you. You shall not experience any sensation of pleasure or pain unless it is by my hand, do you understand my little fuck slave? You belong to me now."

Zero gazed up at him, her fear growing. If only she had gone out with her boyfriend Jake that day. This wouldn't be happening. Sometimes Jake pretended to be like Mephisto for her, when they role-played during sex since she liked it a little rough, but he was never cruel, or mean to her. 

Still rubbing his cock against her, Mephisto removed her bra and began to suck on her tits. It wasn't a bad feeling, she had to admit, but she was still very afraid. Feeling violated, she tried to sit up, and this action elicited another hard slap. She was thoroughly defeated by her own fear. She could not move for fear of more pain. This demon was not going to let her get away, and now to make matters worse, he was angry. "You little cunt!" He shouted. "If you try to escape one more time, I will make this very painful for you! It's going to happen anyway, and it can be your choice whether to make it easy or extremely painful!" 

With that, he grabbed some rope from his nightstand and tied her arms to the bedpost. Then, he began to lick down her body again, this time, slipping a hand into her skirt. He caressed her pussy through her underwear, noticing that she was wet. "See, you want this you little slut," he snickered. He began to lightly press a finger into her through the material, sending shocks of electricity up her spine. She couldn't believe her body was betraying her like this. And for him! He was a fucking demon for pity's sake! Soon, he began to rub her pussy with his whole hand, his palm against her clit, his fingers playing around her pussy lips. She was so close to cumming, she couldn't believe it. He heard her moans and smiled at her. "I knew I could make you want this you little whore," he whispered in a cruel tone. 

After minutes rubbing her pussy through her soaked undergarment he stopped and moved to her face. He pressed his lips tightly against hers, and his tongue slipped deep into her mouth. His cock was once against her pussy, and he began to move up and down her body, rubbing her with his cock while kissing her mouth and squeezing her breasts with both hands. It was too much, and Zero came with a loud moan as Mephisto grinned and shoved his tongue as far down her throat as it would go. "Stop it!" Yelled Zero. "This isn't fair! You can't do this to me!" Mephisto just laughed evilly. "What do you mean I can't do this? I just did!" More evil laughing followed this statement.

Now he slipped a finger under the elastic of her underwear, and began probing into her, ever so lightly. He reached in with his other hand as well, and began to rub her clit as she struggled within her bonds. When he had done this long enough to get her near to another climax, he removed her skirt, underwear, and bra, so that she was totally exposed to him. She tried desperately to cover herself up, despite her arms being tied up. Mephisto just smiled his evil smile at her discomfort. He climbed in-between her legs, while spreading them with his powerful hands. He slipped on finger in, then two. Slowly he worked them in and out, smirking as he realized she was still a virgin. 

"Oh look here, I get to take your virginity as well. This sure is a welcome surprise." Mephisto began to pump harder with his fingers, she could feel them against her insides, rubbing, pumping, and probing. He would pull his fingers all the way out, and then press them back in deep. It felt so good to her, and instinctively, she began to move her hips to meet the thrusting of his fingers. With his other hand, he squeezed her breasts, and with his mouth, he began to lick her thighs. Soon, he removed his fingers, and pressed his face into her pussy, his tongue digging in deep. She could feel the warm wetness deep inside her, and with growing anticipation; she wished she could touch him. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, and to touch his rock hard cock. Zero couldn't believe she was lying there, wanting so badly to have this demon fuck her brains out, when only moments ago she had hated him with her whole being. 

Soon, Zero came again, her second climax. She felt disgusted with herself. The Lord of Hatred was raping her, and she liked it. Mephisto now moved into position over her body, his cock lightly brushing the entrance of her pussy. "Nooooo…" she said fearfully. "Please don't, it will hurt, I'm still a virgin, and I want my first time to be with a man who loves me. Please don't do this! I'll give you a blowjob if you want, anything but this, please!" 

Mephisto loved the sound of her begging. "You want your first time to be with a man who loves you? Hehehehe. How quaint. Too bad, cause your first time is going to be with a demon that hates you!" With that, he violently thrust his cock all the way into her, his balls all the way up against her body. She could feel her virginity leave her in a pain so intense she screamed as loud as she could. 

Mephisto kept his cock deep inside her for several minutes, during which he kissed her mouth roughly. His hands had moved to her ass, using it as leverage to push her even harder against his impaling cock. Zero was in complete agony; all she could do was whimper his name over and over "Mephistoooo… Meph… Mephistoooo…" 

Mephisto just looked at her with a triumphant smile. "See you little slut, you can't win anymore. You're mine now. I own you. I can rape you whenever I wish." The look on his face was truly sickening, full of hate and lust. It had been over 10 minutes and still, he would not releaser her from his dick. The pain had subsided, yet the humiliation was almost too much for her to endure as several tears escaped her, only to be licked up by the Lord of Hatred.

Finally, after a full 15 minutes, he pulled out slowly, again aggravating the spot inside of her that had been torn, and he knew that it hurt her, and it made him smile. He was obviously getting off on her pain, for when he had removed all of his cock except for the head; he slammed it back into her. He repeated this movement several times, causing her to gasp each time. He began to pump her in a steady pace, pulling out, and in, out, and in. It was slow torture at first, but as his cock continued its merciless fucking, the pain lessened, and it began to feel good. He seemed to know exactly when and where to put pressure, and Zero, much to her dismay, felt yet another orgasm building up. She did not want to give in again! This was the enemy! He was the demon Mephisto, Lord of Hatred. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of cumming for him while impaled on his hateful cock. Yet she could not help the feeling it gave her as he slowly moved in and out of her, just slow enough to keep her on the brink of orgasm. "See, my sweet little child of hate… it feels good doesn't it? I can tell by that look in your eyes that you want this. You want me to fuck your brains out, don't you? You want me to hurt you, and abuse you." He was sick. He was evil. Yet, he was fucking her like there was no tomorrow, and she was getting off on it. 

She could feel every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of her body, and then Mephisto increased his pace, and all she could hear was the sound of their breathing, punctuated by a gasp from her whenever he drove his cock in as deep as he could get it. Finally, she felt his cock tense, and could feel the warmth as he released his dark seed deep into her body, his movements as he came triggering her own orgasm, and Mephisto grabbed her body just below the breasts with both hands and held her there for minutes as their breathing slowed back to normal.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mephisto withdrew his weapon from inside her body, and with much fear, she saw that it was still rock hard. He gave her an evil grin as he moved into position with his hips over her head, straddling her face as he lay on top of her, and pressed his dick to her lips. This was too much and she would not do this! She fought the invader with all her might, until Mephisto, angered by her failure to comply slapped her face hard, and as she opened her mouth to scream, he slammed his cock deep into her throat and held it there, keeping her from breathing at all. "How do you like that bitch," he said with a sneer. "I could kill you right now, simply by choking you to death with my cock!"

Just as she felt as if she would pass out, Mephisto began to fuck her face, slowly at first, but then picking up the pace as his cock grew even harder. He was not gentle, and as he pistoned in and out of her mouth, her lower lip began to bleed. He simply laughed as he grabbed a fistful of her hair in each hand for support as he thrust into her face. Over and over again he rammed his tool of hatred into her, holding tightly to her dark brown hair.

Just as he felt he was about to cum, Mephisto turned himself around, so that as he began to fuck her face at a slower pace, he could lick her pussy as well. Zero groaned as his tongue licked across her abused clit. He probed her, tasting her, sliding his tongue deep into her pussy as he continued to fuck her mouth. He reached his right hand underneath him and began to squeeze her breasts. His other hand rubbed her pussy, and he grinned as he saw she was beginning to get wetter. "You little slut," he said to her, "I know you like this. Oh fuck yesssssss," he moaned as his cock throbbed with the onset of an orgasm. Just as he came into her mouth, she came as well, and both of them lay silent for several minutes, as she swallowed the last of his cum, and they licked each other clean.

Zero was now softly whimpering, all the fight in her gone from her abused body. Mephisto sat up next to her and released her hands from their bonds. "If you try to fight me now," he threatened, "I'll fuck you hard until you're bleeding and unconscious, then I'll fuck you till your dead." 

Zero had never felt so used and abused. Yet something was strangely satisfying about it. Mephisto now lay next to her, lightly kissing her neck, across her lips, and down to her sore tits. He kissed down her stomach, and to her pussy. Suddenly, and without warning, he slammed cock into again, causing her to scream in pain as he began the in and out movements once again. In a tone so cruel sounding, he whispered with each thrust into her, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Zero could not help herself; she put her arms around him, drawing him harder into her on the downward thrusts. She began to move her hips to meet him as he made his brutal attack on her body. His fingers squeezed her tits, and his mouth covered hers, only leaving her lips long enough to say something dirty to her. "Oh baby, you are so tight, so good, I'm gonna fuck your brains out. I'm gonna fuck you all night, every night, and make you hate me as I hate you. I own you." 

It felt as if his cock was pounding into her very soul as he continued his assault. She stared into his cold eyes, knowing that he was her ultimate enemy, and that she wanted him inside of her more than anything else at that moment. Mephisto was biting her lips and her neck now, almost painfully, and sucking on her tits as well. She came, and Mephisto did not stop fucking her as she screamed his name in sweet agony. He just kept ramming his cock in and out of her, fucking her as if he hated her more than anyone in the world. He would pull almost all the way out, then jam his hatred right back in. He wanted to feel every part of her inside and out. He paused, only long enough to push her knees up toward her chest, allowing for even deeper penetration. Zero was gasping with each inward thrust; it hurt, in such a good way. Unable to resist, she wrapped her legs around him, only making it easier for him to rape her as hard as he possibly could. Zero came again, and still he fucked her. Soon, she drifted off into unconsciousness, and Mephisto raped and fucked her limp, lifeless body in her pussy until he came once more times, releasing his load of pure hatred right into her soul.

Zero awoke sometime later, feeling a great pain between her legs. She also felt Mephisto's arms around her and she saw that they had fallen asleep in an embrace, such as the kind of embrace that passionate lovers would give each other. His arms felt so gentle around her body, and he looked so peaceful. He was hardly the monster he had been only hours before. Mephisto then opened his eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry I had to hurt you so badly. I just wanted you to understand who your Master is, and that I love you." Zero looked into his eyes, the cruelty of before no longer hinted at in them. It was then that she realized she loved him too. Happily, she gave herself up to him as his cock slid into her pussy once more, for the most passionate, loving night of sex she had ever dreamed of.



The Lord of the Manor



When plague came to the cities, I saw my family perish one by one. With his dying breath, my father begged me to leave our home and seek out relatives living far away. The journey was hard, but after several days of walking with blistered feet and cadging rides on passing carts, I came upon a small village nestled in the shelter of rolling hills. I did not know if my aunt and uncle still lived, but my enquiries at the second house yielded a smiling face and warm welcome.

Life was hard then, all food had to be grown or bartered for and people made clothes from cloth woven locally from wool or flax. An extra mouth to feed meant less for everyone else. If I were to stay, permission must be sought from the village Elders at their monthly meeting. 

The Elders met in the state room of the Manor House. This ancient building stood in it's own grounds hidden from the rest of the village by huge trees. Lush, green lawns swept down to the river that meandered through the village and provided power for the mill and other machines. My uncle accompanied me to the meeting to act as my sponsor. I always carried papers to show that I was free from plague but now I must also prove my skills would benefit the village.

From the massive oak front door via a long hallway, we entered the state room. The richly paneled room was already half full with villagers waiting to petition the Elders on many issues. My first sight of the Elders was of an imposing group of men and women sitting behind a long, dark table, its polished surface reflecting their serene faces. There were four men and three women, all in their middle years or older except the man who sat in the middle of them. I judged him to be in his third decade from the smoothness of his features, but when he looked up to see who was entering the room, I felt I must be mistaken for there were lines of worry about his eyes. 

"How do they choose the Elders?" I asked my aunt as she brushed and plaited my long hair that morning.

"The Master always knows who the Elders are, " she said. "Some have lived here all their lives as their families have done before them, but others came as you have, seeking us out and offering their wisdom in return for sanctuary from the world outside." 

Her words puzzled me, but there was no time for further questions and I was loathe to read her thoughts without permission.

It seems such a strange thing to say - that I could read her thoughts at will, but it was one of my skills, passed to me by my mother's kin. As a child I thought nothing of talking with invisible playmates living miles away, until my Grandmother sent for me. She taught me rules to keep my abilities safe. It had always been our secret, hers and mine and I soon learnt to hide behind my wall of shyness, never acknowledging what others might inadvertently show me. When the plague came, the weight of sorrow and misery from everyone around me soon became too much to bear and I stopped up my inner ears to save my own heart from breaking further. It was so long since I opened myself to others. I'd quite forgotten how it used to be until that moment. 

My aunt was right, the village did seem a calm and peaceful place. Even in the few days since my arrival I felt comforted and my grief less raw. More than anything, I wished to stay in this community and my heart pounded with trepidation as I found myself a seat in the second row. My uncle slipped in beside me, greeting his neighbours and introducing me to those I had not yet met. Soon the buzz of conversation died as one of the Elders rang a small bell before her, to signal they were ready to begin the business of the day. I tried to listen to the introductions, but my stomach was churning and all I could think about was the way the warm spring sunshine sparkled through the large leaded windows and shone dancing figures on my skirt. 

Mine was not the only petition for residency that day. After requests for advice from two villagers, a swarthy man in a dark green jacket and shiny black trousers that marked him as a former city dweller, stood up with his sponsor to present his case. I listened hard to the arguments presented for and against him, wondering how the Elders would weigh each answer and whether they would use the same criteria to judge me.

He was asked many questions by every Elder in turn, except for the man in the centre, who sat quietly in his chair, looking thoughtful. 

"Who is that?" I whispered to my uncle.

"That's the Lord of the Manor, the Master of the village," he whispered back.

"Is he a good man?" I asked again, suddenly wanting the reassurance that his people thought well of him.

"Aye, niece, " my uncle squeezed my hand with how own. "He's a fair judge and he serves us well. We're very lucky to have such a Lord as he."

Although my uncle's words were so softly spoken even I had difficulty hearing him, the man sitting at the table suddenly lifted his head and looked straight at us, a slight smile tugging at his lips as if he'd heard everything. Automatically, I shielded my thoughts and fears, lowering my eyes so that I should not be caught staring.

It seemed strange to me, a city girl, for one man to be so powerful. Before the plague, our rulers had been many and distant, chosen by five yearly ballot. Afterwards, only the strong survived and in many places the leaders ruled by forced, restricting so many things that I was glad to be away from their tyranny of fear and petty squabbles. 

"You're safe here, little one," I heard someone say.

"I know." My mental response was immediate and unthinking and once more, as I lifted my head, I was rewarded with another friendly smile. All around me the questioning continued and I wondered how the Elders would come to a decision and whether the Lord would have the final word when the judgment came.

They asked the petitioner to retire to the waiting room while they discussed his case. I thought the room would be cleared, but to my surprise, the Elders sat in silent meditation. My companions in the public gallery whispered amongst themselves but concern over my own fate made me unable to join their conversation. I slipped though a side door to catch my breath in the coolness of the corridor.

"What do you think, Myra?" I heard a voice behind me. I spun round, thinking I would see someone at the end of the corridor, but there was no-one there. I suddenly realised I was hearing the Elders speak to each other. I tried to close my ears, but the voices were too clear to be shut out. I knew I should shield myself lest I be accused of eavesdropping, but it was as if someone wanted me to hear, to understand and perhaps be less afraid.

"He speaks well enough, my Lord, but there is something not quite right about him." a woman's voice answered.

"You caught it too." The first voice was cool and calm, a voice that drew me, made me feel things I'd forgotten it was possible to feel. The voice of someone I wanted to know better, yet I did not know why.

Suddenly a surge of emotion rushed over me, so strong I had to clutch the doorpost to keep from falling to the ground. 

"He hates you all!" I cried, for that had been the emotion I had sensed. I stood for a moment, trying to get my breath, wondering if the shout had been with my mind or with my voice. How did I know? So many questions I could not answer, but I knew there was truth in what I'd said.

"Peace, little one," the first voice soothed me. "All is well. He shall not harm us, I will make sure of that." 

I caught my breath, wishing the speaker was there with me, but the corridor was still empty.

"Come back, Katrina," My uncle's anxious face appeared around the door. "The Elders will speak their decision and then it will be your turn." 

Hastily I returned to my seat. The swarthy man was called back into the room and the Senior Elder, a portly man in his sixties, rose to give their decision.

"Your cousin says you are a hard worker, Ranulph. This village needs men who can work hard and contribute to the common good. We have decided you may stay with us for a year and then apply again for permanent residency if this is still your wish." 

I was stunned they accepted him, but I was confident the Lord would keep his word and let no harm befall his people. The swarthy man looked pleased and spoke his thanks eloquently. Too eloquently, I thought, then tried to dismiss him from my mind as they called me to stand before the Elders.

My uncle spoke first, telling them my story. I stood quietly, trying to read their faces, seeing which ones might be hostile and which friendly. 

"What skills do you bring with you?" an older woman asked. My mouth went dry and for a moment I could not answer, but my aunt had coached me well, so I was able to tell them of my knowledge of spinning and weaving, of herblore both for dyeing and for medicinal use. The village had a large flock of sheep grazing on the hillside and much of the food was bought with the wool from their backs. 

"I can also teach others what I know," I told them, "and I have brought my books with me." I picked out two from my bag and passed them to the nearest Elder, who studied them eagerly as if he had not seen new books for a long time. 

Without warning, the Lord of the Manor began to question me in several different languages. I was able to respond to most of them, explaining that my parents and I had traveled widely before the plague.

"Do you think she'll breed?" A woman's voice sounded in my ears and my face flushed at the impertinence of the question. Did they think me too old to bear children? In truth most women of my twenty-five years had two or more toddlers around their skirts. Everyone was encouraged to replace those souls the plague had ripped from us. There were offers - and sometimes even force! but I'd found no-one I wished to share my bed, let alone father my children. 

I wondered if I should answer the question, but although I searched the faces before me, no-one seemed to own the thought and I was forced to answer a female Elder. She wanted me to describe at length my experience with herbs and my training with the local apothecary in the city. At last the questioning drew to a close and it was my turn to wait outside while they deliberated.

They took me to a small room with black timbered beams framing the whitewashed walls. Books covered two walls and comfortable leather chairs were ranged around for people to sit and read. Between two such chairs stood a glass table upon which large chess pieces ranged, as though the game were still being played. The sight brought a lump to my throat, for my father loved chess and I'd often played with him when I was small.

Very soon they called me back. My uncle said with a broad smile, "It's all right, Katrina, you can stay and they want you to teach the children!" Somehow I managed to stammer my thanks to the Elders and left the room in a daze of excitement and relief.

So began my life in the village. Each day I taught the children in the one-roomed school. Few in number, those children born after the plague, but all the more precious for that. I loved my small charges and taught them diligently. It was a happy time. 

One evening, as I tended my small plot of land, I noticed someone leaning over the stone wall. He was a tall, with dark brown hair and eyes that spoke of sadness and much care. He said nothing, yet when I looked up, I felt he knew everything about me. I smiled and instantly his faced responded, as if the sun had been trapped behind a dark cloud and suddenly broken free.

I recognised the Lord of the Manor but felt too shy to say anything. I picked one of the dark red roses with the deepest perfume and offered it to him. He took it, inhaled the scent and then tucked the long stem into his coat. 

"Are you happy here, Katrina?"

"Yes, thank you, Sir." 

He smiled again and hesitated for one short moment before turning away and I returned to my weeding. 

His presence puzzled me, for I felt he wanted to say more but did not know how.

My life continued and I thought no more about it. Then, one day, when the summer sun was high in the sky and everyone was busy in the fields, I worked too long without a rest and nearly fainted as I stacked my last stook upon the cart.

"You've done enough for now, Katrina," my aunt said. "Go home and rest." 

The path from the harvest field led down through the trees past the Manor House. As I walked by, I heard voices coming through an open window, angry voices. I followed the path to the front door and found it open. This seemed strange when I knew the Elders were not in session. The voices grew louder and my curiosity got the better of me.

I slid silently inside and tiptoed towards the sounds of argument. In a large room, a crowd of men stood grouped around something. I craned my neck to see what was happening. A man stood in front of the empty fireplace, the same man who'd been accepted into the village at the same time as I. He looked defiant and there was a sack at his feet. The mouth of the sack drooped open, clearly displaying the body of a dead cat. The man did nothing to interrupt the torrent of angry words coming from the person sitting near the empty fireplace. 

The Lord of the Manor was white with rage. Then his voice dropped and I had to strain to hear what he said next. 

"Would you like to know what the cat felt as you choked the life out of her?" Ashen faced, the man shook his head

The Lord of the Manor did not move from his seat, but as he watched, the culprit began to choke. 

Icy fear ran through me like a winter wind. I hardly recognised the man who had accepted my rose and smiled at me. I saw what he could do. It terrified me. My only thought was to get away from this place before I, too, fell foul of someone who could choke another human being with his mind! Sharing thoughts was one thing; my Grandmother spoke of people who could achieve such feats as this, but I never thought to see it with my own eyes! 

I opened the door and fled back along the path towards the village. Most people were still in the fields harvesting and I knew no-one would search for me before nightfall. Soon the last houses were behind me. Over the open meadows I stumbled, across the ford and up the hill, to the shelter of the ancient trees. As I fought my way deeper into the cover through brambles and thorn bushes, I tripped over a broken branch and fell. For a long moment, I lay winded. When I tried to get up, my leg would not move and pain raced through me.

I knew then all was lost. Just beyond the trees lay the parish boundary and a busy road. Once there I could find a lift and be far away where no-one could find me. Now it seemed impossible to move. I lay where I fell and wept. 

Time passed. The sun set and the long summer evening began to fade. The pain in my leg grew steadily worse and I decided that even if I were found, the punishment could not be as bad as my current suffering. 

Night fell and I watched the moon rise above the trees. It was then I heard the dogs - bloodhounds - baying to their masters they had found a scent. Fear racked my body. I had stumbled across the secret of the village. Their Lord acted as both judge, jury and executioner. He was the law. He would not forgive anyone who saw things they were not meant to see. The dogs were proof. I remembered what happened when hunting packs were loosed within the city. Man or beast, the quarry did not return alive. If the dogs did not get me, the Master himself would cause my end. If I loved life, I had to get away. Now! 

I tried to drag myself along the ground, but it was hopeless. I searched frantically for a fallen branch to act as a crutch. I thought I saw something suitable propped against a tree and reached out to grab it. As I did, I felt a hand on mine and a familiar enquiring touch upon my mind. Wrenching my hand away, I crouched against the tree, covered my head with my arms and waited for the blows to fall upon me. 

"Please, " I begged, "I did not know. I'll say nothing. Please don't!"

No blows came, just a stream of soothing thoughts, calming my fears and urging me to trust my heart if not my mind. When I could stand the strain of waiting no longer, I looked up.

The Lord of the Manor stood leaning against a tree watching me. 

"Why did you run?" His eyes were sad, as if somehow he'd failed me.

"I saw you in the house," I choked. "You were killing him!"

He shook his head. "No, Little one. I only gave him a taste of his own medicine. When I felt your fear, I came to reassure you, but you were gone, your mind cloaked with a thousand veils of fog. The bloodhounds only found your scent just now and brought me here. "

Then he noticed my leg. "You hurt yourself?"

I nodded.

"Yet you hid the pain from us all." He crouched beside me, easing me into a more comfortable position. There was no anger in his face, merely compassion for my plight and when he asked my permission to examine me, I nodded, the pain making it nearly impossible to think, let alone speak. My fear suddenly released, I felt giddy and light-headed. I would have toppled to the ground if he had not been there to support me

When his hand touched my knee, the pain suddenly drained away. He held my shin between both hands as warmth spread from him. I could only sit and watch as if the limb were no longer part of me. 

"Can you stand?" he asked at last.

I wriggled my toes experimentally and, when the pain did not return, I took his proffered arm and let him help me to my feet. Somehow, amazingly, the leg bore my weight. I stared at him in surprise, but he merely smiled and said he thought we should go home. 

I looked up at the sky, noticing how the summer moon lit the tiny glade beyond the trees where I had hidden. A wave of tiredness swept over me and I would have fallen if he had not placed his arm around me for support. I could smell the lingering scent of rose upon his jacket and I yearned to lay my head upon his shoulder and let him take me home. My first thought was that all I wanted was my little bed in my aunt's house, but then another picture filled my mind with a longing I never felt before - to sleep curled in another's arms, his body protecting mine. Blushing, I tried to remove the image from my mind before he saw it there, stammering my thanks and apologies, but he waved them away.

"It is I, who should apologise for frightening you," he said and I suddenly realised the image was not mine alone, but born of us both. He brought my hand to his lips and brushed them lightly against my skin. My whole body tingled. He turned my hand over and dropped a kiss into the palm, opening his mind so I could read his sorrow and his love and the longing he felt for me.

"Will you let me take you home?" 

I nodded.

That was many years ago. I still teach the children, our own amongst them. Sometimes, in the summer evenings, he will lean upon the stone wall and watch me tend the garden. I pluck a deep red rose and together we enjoy the deep perfume. He smiles and, deep inside, I smile too.



The Lord of the Manor



Lord Worthington walked into his chambers to find a new maid dusting his mantle. He usually wasn't in at this time and wasn't aware that he had a new maid. He stood silently watching her for a moment. She was average height, with a slim waist and from what he could see, a pleasing behind. She had reddish brown ringlets tucked up under her cap. He liked what he saw so far and was eager to view her from the front. He cleared his throat, and she jumped at the sound. Turning and very prettily blushing, Lord felt a twitching in his pants. She had large green eyes and a very ample bosom.

"Oh m'lord, I'm so very sorry. Please excuse me."

She turned towards the hidden servant's entrance, but he stopped her. "Wait a minute, lass."

Turning back to him, she eyed him nervously. "Yes sir?"

Looking her up and down again with a smile teasing his full lips, he asked, "What's your name girl?"

"Suzanna, sir," she said shyly.

Removing his coat and draping it over a chair, he asked, "How old are you Suzanna?"

"Eighteen," she answered, her nervousness growing.

"And are you now responsible for cleaning my rooms?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, beginning to relax. Perhaps he was only going to give her some instructions.

He approached her and pulled off her cap. Her mahogany curls tumbled down her back. "You are not to wear a cap. I like to see a woman's hair. Especially when it's as nice as yours," he said with a smile, walking behind her. He lifted a handful of soft curls and ran his fingers through them. "I'm also going to change your uniform. The one you have on is so frumpy. I like to see a little skin," he replied, walking around in front of her again, eyeing her body.

Her nervousness returned. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. Meekly, she merely replied, "Yes sir."

"I think perhaps I'll also see to having your duties slightly changed. I'll speak with the head housekeeper and she'll let you know. You can go now," he dismissed.

Clutching her cap in her hands, she rushed to the servants entrance. As she hurried down the hallway, she found herself trembling. What was he going to have her do, she wondered.

The next morning, Mrs. Simms, the head housekeeper called Suzanna into her cramped office. "Lord Worthington has requested some changes to your duties," she said briskly. She picked up a sheet of paper and reading from it said, "Your new duties, effective tomorrow, are as follows: You are to wake Lord Worthington at nine o'clock every morning. You will do this by entering his room with a cheerful salutation of 'Good Morning Lord Worthington' and opening his curtains. A comment on the weather is appropriate." She paused before continuing. "In his dressing room, you should have his itinerary for the day and you will lay out the appropriate clothes."

"Mrs. Simms?" Suzanna interrupted. "Excuse me, but these sound like the duties a man servant should have, not me."

"Yes, Miss Brown, I know. But Lord Worthington has expressly asked that you perform these tasks." She eyed the young woman sympathetically. "Miss Brown, I usually don't do this, but I must warn you. Lord Worthington has a tendency to get very familiar with his maids. If you keep your wits about you and don't fall for any flattery, you should be alright. However, if he does make a pass, it is acceptable for you to make a modest refusal but if he insists, you must endure, if you wish to keep your position."

Suzanna recalled how he had eyed her yesterday, and she nervously whispered, "Yes ma'am, thank you." She hesitated before asking, "How old is Lord Worthington?"

"He's twenty-eight, but behaves more like he's a randy fifteen year old," she replied with disapproval. She cleared her throat and continued reading the list of Suzanna's new duties, all tailored to specifically taking care of the Lord.

When she had finished, Suzanna asked, "He also mentioned something about me having a new uniform?"

Mrs. Simms was unable to meet the young woman's eyes. "Yes, it will be ready for you tomorrow. That is all Miss Brown," she said, unable to bear having this poor creature in her office another moment.

She didn't see the Lord that day and the next morning she was presented with her new uniform. She was horrified as she pulled the laces tight. "Oh my, Rosy, look," she called to her roommate.

"What, is that your new...oh no, Suzy!" she exclaimed.

Suzanna tugged at the low neckline, trying to pull it higher. "I can't wear this!" she cried. "Lord Worthington said he liked to see a little skin, but this dress is scandalous!"

Unable to suppress a smile, Rosy commented, "It does make you look rather fetching, though."

"Please Rosy, this is no time for jokes. One false move and I'll be flashing my nips at him!"

"I would wager that's what he wants," she replied.

Knowing her friend was right, she only sighed. "If only there weren't such a shortage of jobs in this town," she muttered, again trying to pull the neckline higher.

At 8:59 that morning, she stood before Lord Worthington's bedroom doors. As the clock struck, she took a deep breath and opened the doors. The night had been a hot one and as she entered the room, she noticed that he had flung off the blankets and his bare torso was exposed. His muscled body stopped her in her tracks and she stood breathless for a few moments before proceeding to the window and calling out 'good morning'.

As she pulled the curtains back, he replied in a clear voice, "I'm already awake."

She was suddenly aware that he must have heard her footsteps stop by his bed for a few moments before she called her greeting. Her fear was confirmed when he said, "Do you enjoy looking at me Suzanna?"

Without turning, she replied, "I only stopped out of surprise, sir, not admiration."

"You weren't admiring me?"

"No, sir. It looks like it's going to be another lovely day," she said gaily, hoping he would drop the subject.

Her hopes were in vain, for he requested, "Come over here."

She nervously approached the bed and saw that he was still laying there, exactly the same. "Does my appearance not please you?" he asked, lazily rubbing his chest.

She merely glanced at him, and then staring out the window, she replied, blushing furiously, "You're a handsome man, m'lord. Your appearance is always pleasing."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed. He wrapped one hand around the back of her head and his other arm around her waist. "Your appearance is also very pleasing," he whispered, his lips very close to hers.

"Please let me go, m'lord," she said, recalling Mrs. Simms words about a modest resistance to advances.

With a wicked smile, he shook his head slowly, "I don't want to." His lips pressed against hers and with his hand on the back of her head, she couldn't twist away. What else was it Mrs. Simms had said, she wondered vaguely.

Lord Worthington's mouth moved seductively over Suzanna's. She had never been kissed like this before and her mind was swept into a whirl. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she feared she would faint from the sensation.

She was hazily aware of being laid back on the bed and of his weight on her. He moved his mouth from hers and the tip of his tongue scorched a trail down her throat. She felt his hands on her breasts, tugging the dress that little bit lower. She could barely think clearly enough to comprehend what he was doing and when she felt the wetness of his mouth on her exposed nipple, she arched her back with a small cry. She writhed on the sheets as he swirled his tongue around the hardened nub and then suckled it with his mouth.

She was suddenly keenly aware of his hand under her skirts, caressing her thigh. "No m'lord, please, no," she begged, scrambling away from him.

"My, how prettily you beg," he said, watching her get up from the bed, and turning her back as she pulled up the neckline of her dress.

She suddenly felt him behind her and she stiffened, knowing that he must be naked. His hands reached around in front of her and tugged her neckline back down, exposing her nipples. He tweaked them, causing her breath to catch in her throat. "For today, I want to see them. Keep your dress like this," he whispered in her ear. "Have you ever seen a naked man, Suzanna?" he asked, his voice low and silky smooth.

Breathing heavily and on the verge of tears, she replied in a shaky voice, "No, m'lord."

"Would you like to?" he asked, his voice seductively low.

He was pressed against her and his hands on her breasts was making it very difficult to think clearly. A tear spilled down her cheek, as she replied, "No, m'lord."

He wiped the tear away and releasing her, said, "Off you go to the dressing room."

She nearly ran from the room, breathing a sigh of relief that he had finally let her go. She looked down at her exposed breasts and the tears threatened to flow again. She had to stay like this all day?

She could hear him moving around in his rooms and shook her head. Keep your wits about you, silly, she admonished herself. Endure it, that's what Mrs. Simms had said. The dress is only an inch lower than before, not anything to really worry about, she told herself as she laid out her master's clothes for the day.

He entered the dressing room and gazing at her new neckline, he asked, "So, what am I doing today? Anything I can cancel so I can just stay here and admire you all day?"

Avoiding his gaze, she replied, "I'm afraid not m'lord. You are having breakfast and spending the morning with your father. After that you have a meeting in town. When you return to change for that, you can admire me then." She was trying to keep the atmosphere light and by acting as though nothing were different, she hoped it would work.

As soon as he had left, she pulled the dress back up and set about her duties of cleaning his rooms. About half an hour before he was due back, she pulled the neckline back down, worried he might come back early. She was bent over, tucking in the sheets of his bed, when he returned. She didn't hear him come in and was startled when she heard his voice behind her, "This view is almost as pleasing as the one from the front."

She stood and turned. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't hear you come in."

Removing his jacket, he replied, with a sly smile, "No need to apologize. As I said, I was enjoying the view." Staring at her exposed nipples, he murmured, "And I'm also enjoying this view." In a low voice, he ordered, "Come here. Stand in front of me."

Nervously, she stood where he asked. How she wished they weren't so close to his bed. He moved around behind her and looking down over her shoulder, his hands again reached around her and caressed her breasts. "Suzanna, you are so beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

Much to his delight her breathing quickened and she closed her eyes. She felt his lips on her throat and she gasped. His hands moved up to her shoulders and began pulling her gown away, making room for his mouth as it moved over her skin. Her nervousness increased dramatically when she felt him tugging at the laces on the back of her dress. He obviously had done this many times in the past, before she could even protest or move away, her dress slipped to the floor around her feet.

"That's better," he whispered, his hands once again on her breasts and his mouth trailing liquid fire along her shoulder.

"Please m'lord. Please stop," she begged, breathlessly.

"Ah yes, you do beg so very prettily," he murmured. "Do it some more."

"Please stop, m'lord, please," she whispered.

In response, however, he quickly removed her petticoats, leaving her in nothing but her drawers, stockings and boots. Sensing her fear, he quickly turned her to him and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply and sensuously. Her mind swirled with the sensation. She was dimly aware of his hands caressing her body and of being lifted in the air and settled on the bed. It felt like sparks and tremors at the same time were flowing through her veins. She could barely think coherently, she seemed to be simply floating on sensations. The most wickedly delicious sensations.

She arched her back with a gasp as he closed his mouth around her nipple, nibbling gently. He softly squeezed the full, firm flesh with one hand, while the other snaked lower, across her belly and even lower through the opening in her drawers.

She cried out as his finger slid through the soft folds of her pussy. He transferred his attention to her other nipple as his fingers gently explored further. She was writhing on the sheets, her breath coming in explosive gasps and moans.

He quickly tore open his trousers and moved on top of her. Suzanna no longer cared what he did, she knew it was wrong, that it must stop, but she didn't want it to stop, she wanted him to keep going, to take her where her senses were spiralling up to. "Take me..." she murmured.

"What was that?" he teased. "Take you where?"

"Take me, higher, to where it is," she gasped.

Thinking she was delirious, he asked, "Where what is?"

Her breathing coming even faster, she sighed, "Ecstasy."

"Is that where you want to go?" he asked with a sly grin.

Finding the small nub between her now wet folds, he began to caress and rub it. She cried out loudly at this new assault on her already heightened senses. She writhed on the sheets, clawing at his back. "Take me..." she moaned.

"Ask me to fuck you," he whispered.

Driven beyond all sense of reason, she replied, "Fuck me, Lord Worthington, fuck me!"

"Now, to get what you want, you must ask nicely. Say please," he purred into her ear.

Breathing heavily, wanting nothing more than to have him take her to that elusive spot she was just on the verge of, she begged him, "Please Lord Worthington, please, fuck me. Please, fuck me, please!"

Her pleas nearly drove him over the edge and he quickly plunged deeply into her. She cried out loudly as he tore through her virginity. He stayed in place for a moment before beginning to slowly pump in and out. Her cries became moans of pleasure as he quickened his pace, soon driving in and out of her. She clutched at him, almost weeping with the sensations whipping through her body.

Suddenly she cried out, her muscles clenching as she found the nirvana she had been seeking. Her orgasms crashed through her body as she lost all control, crying out wildly, scratching at his back.

He also cried out, unable to hold back his own release. He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily.

Suzanna's senses eventually stopped reeling and the reality of what she had just done came crashing down on her. "No," she murmured. "No, no, no..." she said louder. She began pushing at him. "Get off me," she whimpered, tears threatening.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked down at her. "Now, what's wrong? You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"It doesn't matter whether I did or not, it shouldn't have happened. You took advantage," she accused.

"I took advantage?" he asked with mock indignation. "Please forgive me, miss, but you begged me to take you. Begged me to fuck you, actually."

"I didn't know what I was saying," she protested. "Please get off me," she pleaded.

"But you're so comfortable," he said, grinding against her hips.

She drew in a reluctant shaky breath as his hardening cock pressed against her swollen clit. He watched the conflicting emotions cross her face, the mixture of shame and pleasure exciting him greatly. He continued grinding his cock against her pussy until she finally gave in and tipping her head back, she moaned with pleasure. He kissed her exposed throat and buried his face between her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. He left a trail of kisses across her stomach as he pulled her drawers off.

Spreading her thighs wide, up and back, he lowered himself down and placed a wet kiss on her inner thigh. She gasped at this unexpected location. He parted her swollen pink lips and slid his tongue between the folds. She cried out, and arched her back, clutching at the sheets. He continued to lick, suck and nibble at her pussy as she struggled not to pass out from the outrageously delicious and extremely wicked sensations radiating out from between her thighs.

An hour later, they both lay on the bed, thoroughly spent, neither having the energy to move. She had finally shed her inhibitions and he had taught her a multitude of things. Her favourite being how delightful the world can be when one in on their hands and knees. She knew she should be filled with shame, but it all just felt so good. Plus, she was too exhausted to be sorry for what had just happened.

"Well, my saucy maid, did you enjoy that?" Lord asked.

"Mmmmm...yes, m'lord," she replied.

"Have I missed something I was supposed to do?" he asked, lifting his head, only to let it fall back again.

"You've missed your lunch and are most likely late for a meeting downtown with your bank. That can easily be rescheduled. Apparently you miss your bank appointments quite frequently."

Rolling over to her and lazily playing with her nipples, he replied, "Yes, I can always think of better things to do than go to the bank. Although I must admit this has been the most pleasant diversion so far," he said with a laugh. He gave her hardening nipple a sharp tweak to which she winced slightly.

"Are they sore?" he asked.

"My whole body is sore," she replied with a smile.

"Say that again and call me m'lord," he requested.

"My whole body is sore, m'lord," she repeated, still smiling.

Pressing his face against her full breasts, he said, "You were so delightful, begging me to fuck you. Fuck me Lord Worthington!" he said with a laugh.

She blushed and smiled shyly. "I can't believe I did some of those things."

"You did things, you said things. You're a wicked, wicked girl, Suzanna." He looked at her fondly for a moment, before sitting up and saying, "Come on now, we should get up and do.. something. I'm sure I'm supposed to be doing something."

"Not really, but I'm supposed to be. The entire servants quarters are going to be buzzing with gossip when these sheets appear in the laundry room," she commented, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. With a smile she wondered if she should tell Mrs. Simms to add this to her list of duties.