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The Descent Ch. 01

By: WRJames



"Billy, not down there!" It was too late. His son was flying down the steep brick driveway at a speed that would have intimidated Usain Bolt. Ninja cape flapping in the breeze, sneaker heels flashing bright red, he had dwindled into nothing in the blink of an eye.

"Hi Tom." It was one of his neighbours, accompanied by two fairy princesses.

"Hi Joel. Well, who have we got here?" He took a couple of candy bars out of Billy's overflow bag and handed one to each of the two little girls.

"Elissa," one of them said, pouting.

"Then you must be Marissa."

"No, I'm Elissa. She's lying."

"How's it going? Where's Billy?" Joel was staring dubiously at the Ninja sword his son had left behind.

"Down there." Tom waved towards the long dark driveway.

"You let him go down there?"

"I didn't let him go. He just went."

"Well, it looks like it's dark. Nobody home. Ever meet them?"

"Not that I know of. Strange house down there." The neighbourhood was built on the side of a hill. The best lots, the ones where Joel and Tom lived, were up on top of ridge, where it was almost level. But this street ran along the side, where it was very steep, and the houses were set well above on one side, well below on the other, on lots that sloped so much that one side of the house had at least one extra floor, sometimes two or three. But this house was built on a little plateau, two hundred feet down at least from the street, and twice that far back. It was surrounded by thick forest for a hundred yards on all sides. A long brick driveway coiled its way down the cliff to reach it. No one ever ventured down that driveway. There were rumours. CIA safe house. Drug cartel. No one knew who lived there, or even, for sure, if the house was occupied. There were never cars in the driveway -- but, of course, there was an immense garage, with doors for three vehicles. There was no reason a car should be parked out in the open.

"Can you see him?" Tom was peering down the hill, searching for his son.

"Think so. On the deck. You can just make him out." Suddenly, there was a shaft of bright white as a door opened, then closed again.

"Okay," Tom said with false bravado, "he got his candy. He'll be back up in a minute or so."

"Okay. Come on princesses. Time to climb back up to home. See ya."

Joel dwindled away to little chants of "Carry me! Carry me!" Tom tried to imagine him struggling up the hill with a princess under each arm. Combined, they probably weighed a lot less than Billy. But there was no way he was going to carry his son back up the hill.

A minute passed, no Billy. Another minute. With a sigh, Tom put his foot on the first brick and began his descent.

Billy had dashed down without a care in the world, but Tom immediately felt his knees complaining at the steepness. He felt how slick the bricks were from the evening dew, how treacherous the leaves were, slippery as banana peels, how the acorns which had somehow managed not to roll down the hill were ready to do so with his assistance, and to take him with them in the process. He was trembling by the time he reached the flat stretch at the bottom. At that moment, lights went on everywhere, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He took a deep breath and walked up onto the porch. As he approached the door, it swung open. He was staring at a very beautiful woman, medium height, hair a tangled mass of dark curls, wearing a thin bathrobe, still wet enough that it was clinging to her body. Wet enough so that is was almost transparent, so that he could see the dark outlines of her nipples as they attempted to jut through the fabric. Wet enough that it was sticking to her thighs, so that when she stepped forward, each side of the robe went its separate way, revealing a second mass of curls that matched her long dark hair. 

He forced his gaze up to her face, almost elfin in its delicacy, high cheek bones, small sharp chin, full lips, straight nose, flaring a little at the base, and those eyes! Huge, dark. Ochi chernoya, ochi strashnoya. Dark eyes, strange eyes. The words of that song they'd learned in high school, about all the Russian he remembered, came to him. Kak loobloo ya vac. How I love you. He stood there, frozen, unable to even breathe. He was sure that his heart had stopped beating, that he was going to die that way, disabled by the shock of her beauty.

"Hello," she offered him a hand, and broke the spell. "I am Karina." There was something Russian, at least Slavic, about her accent.

"Tom," he offered back. He was a bit startled at how she had shared her name with him so quickly. Karina, Karina. He tried to memorize it. It was embarrassing, when someone told them their name right off the bat like that, and you talked to them for an hour, and had no idea what that name was at the end of the conversation. 

"You must be the father of Billy?" She smiled as he nodded. "He assured that me you would be down here in a few minutes. Please, come inside out of the cold." Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly. But it was quite obvious that she was shivering a bit on the porch. Her nipples were very hard, probably from the chill. 

"Where's Billy?" She had ushered him into a room full of leather couches and thick, plush carpets. He had seen rooms like that, on the internet. Usually, there was a naked body or two draped over the couches. This room, though, was empty. Except for her, sprawling herself out casually, careless of the way the robe was parting even further as she sat down. 

"In the family room. Dining on milk and cookies." She saw the expression on his face. "It is necessary to fatten him up some more," she added. Then, seeing his bewilderment, "like Hansel und Gretel." She gave it the German pronunciation.

"Oh. He's fattened up enough already for one night. He's been sneaking candy bars the whole way." Tom sat down, not on the couch next to her, but across from her. It was not, he insisted to himself, so that he could stare at those smooth brown thighs, almost completely liberated now from the bathrobe.

"You're the runner!" They both blurted it out at the same time, as they recognized each other.

"I see you all the time!" Then she added, out of the blue, "you have a very beautiful body."

"Thanks." He knew it was true, but it was nice to have confirmation. "You too."

"Thank you for saying so." She smiled, and pulled one knee up beneath her chin. He was trying not to stare. No, that wasn't true. He was staring as hard as he could, and she was looking him in the eye, daring him.

"You are running during the day?" She phrased it cautiously, delicately, but the implication was obvious. Why aren't you at work?

"House husband," he answered. Might as well get it out in the open. Why not? She was baring herself to him. "Mr. Mom."

"Mr. Mom?" She echoed the phrase, puzzled.

"My wife works. I stay home and raise Billy."

"Oh." She seemed puzzled still. "I see."

No you don't. "You're wondering," he said, "why we don't both work, like most couples."

"No," she said, "I did not mean to offend you."

"It does not offend me." He was starting to imitate her speech patterns. "For a while we both did work. But we were never getting to day care on time. One of us would be on the road. We were working weekends. It was a nightmare." She gave him a look that made him blush. "I got laid off," he said. "I never found another job. My wife is a consultant. She makes a lot of money."

"But?" She actually leaned forward and put her hands on his knees.

"She works late, she travels a lot. She's out in California now. Actually," he glanced at his watch, "on the way home by now." Hopefully. If all went well, she might be home before dawn.

"My husband, also, travels frequently. He, also, is travelling now." Why did that give him a thrill of excitement?

"Where is he?"

"This week? Moldavia." She saw the blank look on his face. "That's where I am from, Moldavia."

"Moldavia," he echoed.

"He prefers me not to work," she added, and somehow, something made him sure that was a lie.

"It must be lonely," he said, and she gave him a smile that made him ready to jump on top of her, then and there.

There was the sound of explosions from down the hall, then screams and sirens. 

"Video," she said. "Kiddie cartoon."

"You have children?"

"No," she laughed "I have the videos for my nieces and nephews. I am their favourite aunt." She saw the look of concern on his face. "Come, see." She got up, regretfully, and led him back through the kitchen. 

He peeked through a door to see his son crouched in front of a huge screen, on it, some animated superhero or other was flying through a crumbling cityscape.

"Billy," he said, without much conviction, "we've got to get going."

"Dad, this is most exciting part!"

"Billy, it's getting late."

"I don't care! I've got enough candy! Besides, it's getting cold."

That was true enough. Tom had been ready to pack it in a while ago. He had never wanted to come down as far as this street in the first place. But Billy had scampered down to it, then further down the driveway. God! An extra four hundred feet, maybe five hundred, vertical back up to the house. 

"Homework?" There was always homework, usually revealed five minutes before the bus arrived in the morning.

"It's Friday."

He glanced at his watch. Pushing eight already. Bedtime in an hour and a half. At least twenty minutes of that was going to be needed to climb back up the hill. "How much longer does this movie last?"

"I don't know!" Billy groaned. "Dad? Please?"

"Okay," Tom sighed. "Half an hour. If it's okay with you." He turned belatedly to Karina.

"It is completely okay. More than okay." She gave him a smile that made him giddy with desire. "Would you like a beer?"

"I've really got to pee first." Tom was startled at how bluntly he put it.

"Surely." He started for a door next to the family room.

She gave him a long, appraising look. "Please, use the one down the hall." She gestured back towards the living room. "This one is not working properly."

"Okay." 

Across the living room, down the hall -- there was a door with a wooden sign above it -- hot baths, fifty cents. Cute. He stepped in, turned on the light, and nearly peed in his pants.

The walls were covered with wallpaper -- the wallpaper was covered with four huge black and white blowup photos. Of Karina. Of Karina naked. Of Karina kneeling, licking huge testicles that hung beneath an enormous erect penis. Karina, with that same huge penis her mouth, so deep that her chin was pressed against those testicles, so deep that her throat was bulging where it had been filled. Of Karina bent over, with the penis jammed into her vagina, her cheeks spread above it to show how her anus was gaping open. Of Karina in about the same position, except now her vagina was gaping open, and the penis was buried in her rectum. The owner of the penis was only visible from the waist down, in all four of the photos. What there was to see was intimidatingly muscular and -- large. A couple of inches larger than he was, he thought, staring at his own erection as he tried to relax enough to let his bladder empty. 

A few strokes to shake off the last drops of urine. A few more, and then he was pressing his balls into the edge of the vanity, straining, climaxing, shooting gobs of thick white cream into the sink bowl. God! He hadn't come like that since he'd been in high school. He rinsed the evidence down the drain, washed his hands, and tried to compose himself.

God, she was beautiful! Now that the shock had worn off a little, his eyes could move away from where she had been penetrated, to see how magnificent her breasts were, how surprisingly full and round, and her belly, tiny and taught, stippled with muscle, her thighs swelling out, not as skinny as he might have thought, with all the running that she did. His wife worked out obsessively, and all it had done was to make her thin and stringy, almost titless, hips just skin and bones. But Karina was voluptuous. He felt himself stiffening again, and he fled -- from the image, back to the real woman, waiting for him back in the kitchen. 

She had poured the beer already, and he took it, guzzled it down, and she poured him another. It occurred to him that he was going to have to pee again, and that made him start to giggle. When he tried to stop it, it turned into a hiccup instead.

"What is the matter?" she asked. "Are you feeling indisposed?"

"I am dying," he said. "I require mouth to mouth resuscitation." What had made him say that? She was going to throw him out of the house, then and there. She was going to grab one of those big knives out of the rack and brandish it at him. But instead, she smiled, she was moving towards him, ready to grant his request.

Billy burst into the room, his presence announced by a blast of noise as the family room door opened.

"Excuse me," he said, "could I use your bathroom?"

"May I," Tom corrected, absentmindedly.

"May I use your bathroom?"

"Such a polite child," Karina said. "Not at all like his father." She paused, and Tom's heart really did stop beating. She actually took a look in the direction of the living room. She gave a little sigh, breasts heaving under that flimsy robe. "Right over there," she said, pointing at the door next to the family room.

"I thought," Tom said, trying to control his breathing, "that bathroom was out of order."

"A small deception. Only for your benefit, do you not agree?" She gave him a smile that made him shiver with anticipation. "Not everyone is permitted to use that other bathroom."

"I see."

"It is, as you say, an ice crusher?"

"Ice breaker?"

"Ice breaker," she repeated. "Crush, break, what is the distinction? It is an ..."

"Invitation?" He blushed at his boldness.

"Yes," she thought it over, "an invitation. Perhaps." She sat down on a stool, and let the robe slip completely off her lap again. She gathered it up hastily as the bathroom door opened, and Billy rushed back into the family room. He had left the door open behind him. She got up to close it, and then, very quietly, very gently, she locked it.

"That's unusual," Tom said. 

"Unusual?"

"To have the door lock that direction."

"There are many things about this house that are unusual."

"Like the bathroom."

"Yes." She sat down again. "Do you like it?"

"You are very beautiful."

"I was younger then. I was in better physical condition."

"You said it was an icebreaker?"

"Yes." 

There was an uncomfortable silence. She was not going to volunteer anything more, it seemed. He hardly dared to probe any further. "You are swingers?" he asked at last.

"Swingers." She repeated the word as if she had never heard it, and he began to blush with embarrassment. There was no way he wanted to explain to her what swingers were. He wasn't even sure he knew. "Swingers." She seemed to think about it. "Yes, perhaps that describes what we are. We prefer to share ourselves with other people."

"When we lived in the city," Tom said, cautiously, "we had a couple move in across the hall who were swingers. They invited us over one evening -- they were only wearing underwear." He stopped, realizing how he must be offending her. But she did not look offended in the least. "My wife," he added, "was not at all interested."

"And you?"

"They were only interested in a couple."

"Ah." It was her turn to be hesitant. He could sense the nervousness as she spoke. "We will consider a single person." She stopped.

It seemed as if the kitchen was getting very warm now. If he had ever been cold, that was a long time ago. He was sweating how, little beads of perspiration running down his back. And she also -- her robe was starting to cling, all over again. 

"Under what conditions?" he dared to ask, at last.

"Ah," she sighed, "it is somewhat like buying a yacht."

"Buying a yacht?"

"If you need to ask the price, you cannot afford it." He gave a look of bewilderment, concern, and sheer, unfocused desire. "The person," she said at last, "must be pleasing to both of us."

"Pleasing?" He thought he knew what she was saying, but he needed confirmation.

"Able," she paused, searching for the words, "to give us pleasure."

"To both of you."

"To both of us."

He thought back to those photographic wall murals, and tried to imagine himself in Karina's role.

"Do you understand, what may be required of you?" 

"I think so," he nodded. 

"And are you willing," she paused, "to provide pleasure?"

He nodded again. She opened the robe completely, pulling it away to bare her breasts. They were hidden again as she drew her knees up to her shoulders.

He walked over to the stool and knelt down before her, not daring yet to touch her, but so close that he could almost taste her desire. Whatever game she had been playing with him had aroused her, that was obvious. Sweet, spicy, intoxicating, the scent of her was overwhelming. His wife never got that excited, at least, she hadn't for a long time. Long enough that he had almost forgotten. Of course, he knew very well what a cunt looked like. He did this for his wife all the time; it was almost routine. So why was he gaping at her as if he had never peered between a woman's legs before? He was dumbfounded, unable to move on. 

She patted the back of his head, as if he were a big dog, a good dog, pulling him closer in to her, close enough that his lips were brushing hers. He gave her a big wet kiss, lips on lips, as if her were kissing her mouth. His wife always liked that. So did she. Not too fast, he reminded himself, don't just tear her clit off. He began to caress her with his tongue, running it delicately around the circuit of her lower lips, spiralling inward, unfolding her secrets as he went. She was like a flower opening its petals, everything swelling, pulsing, soaked with his saliva and her anticipation. Her hands were in his hair now, pulling it with some impatience. Within the fissure then, he probed to find her clitoris, engorged, quivering to his touch. Ready, she was more than ready, but that was not what he wanted. Perhaps she was in a hurry, but he was not going to make it that easy for her. He began to lick further back, down to the source of her muskiness, then further still, beyond the base of the first opening. She squirmed, not to avoid his tongue, but to present herself to it, spreading her cheeks to expose her anus. Now he was in unknown territory. Once or twice, kissing his wife's butt, he had dared to kiss into the center. But she had squeezed her buttocks tightly together. Even when she had relented a little, he had barely been able to work his tongue down far enough to touch the little puckered mound of flesh. And then, she had complained it tickled. He had never even seen, really what he was doing. But Karina had her legs drawn away, she had her butt thrust out, everything exposed. Now that he could see it, smell it, taste it, he wasn't sure he had the nerve to finish what he had started. She said something sharply in a language that was not English, and dug her nails into his scalp. Did that mean stop, or don't stop now? He licked tentatively, just pressing his tongue against the opening, feeling how soft it was, how ready to yield to his intrusion. Taste -- how did it taste? Not much different than her cunt -- salty, meaty. He took another lick, and the flesh was parting for him, all on its own. She was opening herself to him. 

"Damn it! Stick your tongue in!" No mistaking that. She grabbed the back of his head to urge his face into her. His nose slid in between her labia, its tip penetrating her. The puckered flesh was parting even more, on its own, inviting him within. He sighed, and put the tip of his tongue within the ring of muscle.


The Descent Ch. 01



I don't know why I went there. At least not when I walked down the narrow hallway into the room with low lights and sweat in the air. I suppose it was my dissatisfaction with the evening. Another night of love making with my husband that left me frustrated and unsatisfied. I am not an unfaithful person and I did not consider going there an act of unfaithfulness. Instead I thought of it as a place for myself. Something I had to do and even more than that, something I needed to do.

So there I was, wearing my black knee length skirt, white button down shirt and netted stockings. I tied my hair back, put on some fun red lip stick, my black lace bra and thong complete with my black heels. The issue I had before I left was my glasses. I mean, did I want to look like a school teacher? Since I was a school teacher I decided to keep the glasses. Contacts were too much trouble and I my husband would be suspicious. This was after all, a girl's night out. Or so I told him.

Laura was meeting me there. It really was her whole idea, and had I known all her intentions and ideas, I am not sure I would have went. Actually, who am I kidding? I know I would have. I needed to go. Laura spent the last month convincing me of that. 

My phone buzzed in my purse as I stood awkwardly in the doorway. I checked it and saw that Laura would be late. Typical. I was here on my own. But where was here?

The place was called the Daffodil on the corner not six blocks from my house. I never noticed the small neon sign all the times I had walked down the sidewalk by it. It didn't look like much from the outside. Just a brick building on a street of brick buildings. Once I stepped through the thick windowless door, I thought I was in the wrong place. It was just a hallway leading into the dark. If it wasn't for the dull sound of music coming from somewhere in the dark I would have left. I am glad I didn't.

I took a seat in a booth near the entrance so Laura could see me when she came in and took in the scene. The ceiling was low and arched, leading all the way to the bar. The bartender was attractive man probably in his mid twenties—just a bit younger than me. He knew his business too, flinging the shots this way and that. I liked his firm jaw line and I suppose that was when I had my first thought of the night: I wondered what he would look like licking my pussy.

There were several couples sitting at the bar. I supposed for this kind of place there would be more men than women. Thankfully I was wrong. I suppose there are more women than just myself wanting to expand their sex life. Especially wanting to expand it with strangers. 

Then a waitress approached my table, and I realized exactly where I was. She was tall—like almost six feet with long legs coming out of her bikini bottoms and a great set of boobs jiggling free as she walked. Her hair was short and jet black, allowing more attention to be paid to her pouting mouth and seductive eyes. I was uncomfortable to be sure, but I did my best to look like I belonged there. I no doubt failed.

"New hear huh?" she said as soon as she was next to the table. She could see that I was slightly blushing and trying not to glance at her naked boobs. 

"How could you tell?" I asked trying to be coy. She really did have a great body.

"You have that...new face look about you dear," she said with a smile. Seeing my blushing reaction she added, "Don't worry about it though. Need a drink to ease the tension?"

I smiled thankfully and ordered a sapphire martini. Kind of a guy's drink but it was the first thing that popped into my head. She turned and left and I watched her swaying hips go as she walked away. 

I watched her interact with the bartender and I wondered if he was gay. He nodded to her then continued about his work without so much as acknowledging her tits that were just pointing at him. I swore all guys loved tits. That's why I picked the bra I picked. 

I looked over the rest of the room and noticed three other waitresses walking around. All topless and wearing some kind of bikini bottom. I wondered how it worked. Were they here for sex too? I thought back to Laura's descriptions of the place. She told me her friend had come here on accident just looking for a dive to get hammered at. Instead she found out that this was a club—of sorts. A place where people came to be in the dark...to do dark things. To be free to open up. Laura's friend described as a place to descend to your carnal self. Not sure what that meant at the time and now I was doubly unsure.

My drink arrived shortly after and the waitress simply smiled and walked away. Not two seconds later, to my great relief, Laura arrived. Now Laura has always been my sort of work crush. That is to say, I am not a lesbian—I kissed a girl once in college before I was married and that's it—but Laura had the looks and the personality of a women that every other sexually repressed women wanted to be with. She always appeared neat, professional, beautiful and had no qualms about having a filthy mouth and mind. I loved to talk about sex with Laura and I suppose that is what led me to be here to begin with.

She saw me immediately and smiled as she walked over. She was a blonde (aren't they always), with great skin, green eyes and a mouth that could be best described as flirty. She wore a green halter top and clearly no bra. Her tight jeans made her legs look heavenly and they snuggled comfortable against her ass. She slid into the booth next to me dousing me in her expensive perfume.

"Ok so I totally thought this was the wrong place," Laura said with a laugh. "But I am glad to see you found it ok...whoa look at the tits on her."

The waitress approached us and said, "Now there are two of you. Anymore to join you or...?"

"Um...just the two of us," I said nervously.

"Good...what will you have gorgeous?" The waitress said turning to Laura.

Laura was not shy about looking at her boobs. "Are those real?" She asked to my embarrassment. 

"What do you think?" The waitress replied.

"Well that usually means they are fake," Laura replied. "But you spared no expense."

The waitress laughed. "Actually they are real. Quite real." She moved closer to us and leaned over the table. "Go ahead and touch them." My husband would be in heaven.

I blushed and Laura reached out. She touched the left breast with her hand and instantly we watched the nipple harden and perk up. 

"Your hands are cold!" The waitress said and stepped back laughing. 

Laura laughed, but I saw something in her eye I couldn't place. I was glad she was here...but I also wondered how long we should stay. 

She ordered a drink and just watched the waitress walk away. "Um...wow." She said as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. 

"Yeah...quite a body huh?" I said.

"We should be so lucky," Laura said turning to me.

Her drink came and then we had more drinks. That was the kind of night it started out as. Some drinks to get comfortable and some drinks to unwind. I think I felt safe drinking. We saw several people come in and out of the various doors around the dark place, but we were content just to sit and talk. I told Laura about my husband's love making and we had a good laugh. I felt better and I felt like I could go back and try again with him. I think I would have too if Laura hadn't suddenly kissed me.  

I knew she was drunk and I was too, so I wasn't sure what to think. But she just planted one on my mouth. She took my hand as I sort of reeled and said, "I always wanted to kiss you. You always look so clam, proper and put together." She leaned closer to me, "and honestly you have great lips."

I smiled, blushed and my head was spinning. Was this happening? I supposed it was after she kissed me again. Her lips were soft and gentle—just the way I knew they would be. I kissed her back and she opened her mouth just enough for me to touch her lips with my tongue. It was soft and sensitive. It was what I needed. 

I opened my mouth to tell her I wanted to kiss her...to have my hands on her body ever since my first day at the office. But as soon as I did she kissed me and her tongue filled my mouth. I could say at that moment my heart started to race. Her tongue was sweet from her drink and I licked it with my tongue. She kissed in a way I had never been kissed before—gently but aggressively. She sucked my tongue and licked my lips. Her hands were over my shoulders and teasing at the collar of my shirt.

"Had enough to drink ladies?" Our waitress said. 

I jerked my head backing a daze. What the hell was I doing? I just kissed my friend. Is that cheating? I wanted to leave.

"Why don't you two follow me?" The waitress said taking Laura's hand. She in turn took mine and I followed through a doorway and into another dark hall. I hoped no one saw me. I hoped that I could find a way out of here. I had to admit that I was feel damp however and that was something I hadn't felt in a long time.

We were led into a room with a bed, a bathroom and another door on the opposite wall. Laura stepped in and walked toward the bed. The waitress stood in the doorway and waited for me. Did I leave? I felt like this was the jumping in point. I looked at her and she stood with her hands on her hips staring right at me. "Are you going to come in?" She finally asked.

I took a few hesitant steps and entered the room. She followed me in and closed the door behind her. Laura looked a little drunk but sat on the edge of the bed with her legs open. I noticed her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. I didn't know what to do so I sat down beside her and crossed my legs.

"I am going to be straightforward," the waitress began. She stepped forward and kept her hands at her side. "It was really hot watching you two kiss and honestly...School Teacher," she looked at me. "You are gorgeous."

She walked toward us and Laura slid her hand up against her stomach. "What's you name?" Laura asked, brushing her fingers gingerly over the girl's skin.

"Jen," she said. I could see she was breathing faster and her boobs were perking up. Mine were too if I was honest.

Laura ran her hand up Jen's body and gripped her breast. She moved her hand in a circle and really held Jen's boob tightly. She leaned forward, squeezed Jen's tit so the nipple stuck out and licked it. Jen sucked in air and leaned forward so Laura's tongue could have full range. I watched. What was I supposed to do? I didn't watch porn. I didn't have wild sex. I didn't know what to do. So I watched.

Laura began to suck Jen's nipple and took it greedily in her mouth. She had the other hand on Jen's other breast and she was rubbing it. I could see Jen liked it and I liked watching it. I was really getting wet and I crossed my legs a few times for some friction. 

Jen's tit popped from Laura's mouth and Laura kissed her stomach. Soft kisses that moved in circles around Jen's belly button. Jen reached over and untied Laura's halter top. It fell over, uncovering Laura's bare chest. Her boobs were perky and nipples rigid. They were exactly as I imagined and I had to confess that I always wanted to touch them.

Laura worked her way out of her shirt then stood up and kissed Jen deeply. Their naked tops pressed against each other—their boobs bulging out to the side. I was wet. I wasn't the masturbating type and to be honest, before that night it had never really occurred to me. I didn't know how so I just sat there and sort of moved my legs and rubbed my chest. It was a nice feeling watching them enjoy it so much.

Jen's hands ran down Laura's back and over her butt. She wasn't a fan of the jeans, I could tell because she went straight to the front and after some effort unbuttoned them. Laura wiggled out of them revealing a purple thong and an ass that I had been killing myself at the gym to get. It was almost perfectly round and symmetrical: The line of her purple thong disappearing into the crack formed by her two flawless, smooth cheeks. 

Jen's hands were on Laura's ass immediately, pulling and squeezing her cheeks. I caught glimpses of the thong as her cheeks were squeezed, spread and jiggled by Jen's hands. I was glad that I had been religious about waxing as I saw that her legs and ass were completely hairless. I wondered about her front. I didn't have to wait long.

Jen pushed Laura back to the bed and got on her knees. She looked up at Laura lustfully and pushed Laura's legs to either side. "I want to eat your pussy." Jen said in almost a growl. 

Laura nodded in lustful compliance and slid out of her thong as quickly and fluidly as she could. Her pussy was nearly hairless with just a line of it running up on the top. It fit the rest of her body very well. She lifted up her legs and set them on Jen's shoulders. Jen looked up at her full of lust and as Laura ran her hands through Jen's short hair she slid up to Laura's very wet pussy with her mouth open.

As soon as she touched it, she was moaning and sucking. As best as I could tell she was working well down there because Laura was grinding her hips against Jen's mouth. "Oh my..." she said breathlessly.

Jen shook and nodded her head against Laura's pussy and I could only imagine what she was doing with her tongue and mouth. Laura was almost upright, with both hands against Jen's head, writhing against her rhythmically. Laura's boobs bounced with each gyration and I was overwhelmed with watching her tits and Jen's head. I focused on her tits and I knew my mouth was open. It was now or never. 

I slid closer and grabbed her jiggling breast and sucked it. I let it fill my mouth as I sucked and bit her nipple. Lust took me over and I grabbed her other breast, squeezing it. "Oh shit...Heidi...oh shit..." She almost called out and her nipple was rock hard against my teeth. I sucked and sucked...losing myself in her flesh. She pressed her hand against my head and cried out loudly, "Like that...like that...I am cumming....oh....oh..." She arched and came. Her body flexing as she did.

She fell back and her boob slipped from my mouth. It was red and covered with spit. I stared at her as I fumbled with the buttons on my shirt and almost tore it open. Jen was on her knees fingering Laura's pussy slowly. Watching her as she did it. She looked up at me as I slid out of my shirt. Her mouth was open and I slid to the floor next to her and kissed her. 

Her face was wet and he mouth tasted different. I know it was Laura's pussy all over her and I gave in further. I licked at mouth and lips. She continued to finger Laura and had one hand against me. I pushed her back and unsnapped my bra. 

"Oh Heidi...your tits..." Laura said looking at me. 

Jen pulled her two fingers from Laura's pussy and sucked them. She looked at me greedily and I slid back for a moment. Laura was laying propped up on her hands staring at my boobs. Jen was on her knees looking into my eyes with hunger. I had never been looked at like that before. I was so wet. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed.

"Take your clothes off...all of them," Jen demanded. Her voice was loud, almost angry. I was startled, but compliant and I worked the snap of my skirt. I slid out of it and my thong in one motion. My pussy was wet and I couldn't help but feel a little exposed.

I rolled over to the head of the bed and sat leaning against it and watching the two girls climb onto the end of it. Both of their naked bodies looking so natural next to one another. "Now School Teacher," Jen said. "Tell us what you want."

"What?" I asked a little taken back.

Laura had the same serious look. "What do you want us to do to you?"

I felt strange. I was almost shaking with lust. I felt exposed...my pussy was wet and I was already sitting in a pool of my own juice. I didn't know what to say.

"What do you want?" Jen asked crawling a little closer. "Do you want me to suck on those tits...I think that's too tame." 

Laura followed up, "Come on Heidi...I know you check out my ass at work. You have me here, right now fucking naked and horny as shit. What do you want?" She looked at my pussy and opened her mouth.

"I..." my mind was blank. I mean what the hell? I squirmed. 

"What do you want?" Jen yelled. She slapped my thigh. 

"Ow..." I said. So confused. Scared. Excited. 

"Do you want me to lick your pussy?" Laura said running her hands up my thighs. My body tingled and I wiggled. "Sort of innocent..."

"I am not sure she is so innocent," Jen said. 

I was shaking at Laura's touch. "Laura...please...eat my pussy..."

Laura dove into me. Her mouth was over my clit before I could breathe out. She nibbled it with her lips and I was so horny each touch just sent waves up my body. She sucked my clit and slid a finger into me. I breathed heavily...pushed my arms over my head and squirmed.

Jen slid up next to me, licked my boobs and then my mouth. She kissed me deeply massaging my tongue with hers. I could still taste Laura's pussy on her and it drove me wild. She started to suck my tongue and I stuck it out for her. I felt Laura's teeth on my clit and she fingered me harder. I opened my legs wider.

Jen sucked on my earlobe. "I think you're a dirty girl." She whispered in my ear. She kissed me again then added, "Aren't you? You wouldn't come here if you weren't wanting something more."

She grabbed her breast and fed it to me. I licked at the nipple and moaned as Laura continued on my pussy. My mind was racing and I knew Jen was right. I was here. I had thoughts...I had feelings. I had needs. I had been fucked so poorly my whole life. Tonight was the night. Lust was taking me over.

I sucked Jen's tits greedily then looked up at her. "I want your pussy." I whispered to her and lay back. Jen straddled my chest then slid her body up to my face. Her pussy was wet and glistening in front of me. I had never seen another woman's pussy so close, but the smell was driving me wild. I grabbed her ass and pulled her to my mouth. 

I licked her slit and found her clit with my lips. It was like kissing an open mouth and I tongued her then nibbled her clit. She grabbed my hair and began to grind against my mouth. I felt her wetness on my face and in my mouth and suddenly I came. I screamed into Jen's pussy as Laura fingered me as I came. I felt my body want to explode and I licked and sucked harder and faster.

"That's a good girl," Jen said grinding against my mouth. "Shit...I am gonna cum...oh my..." 

I felt her cum as she shook and I gripped her ass tightly with both hands. She ground my mouth quickly then slid back and breathed heavily. Her pussy was red and swollen in front of me. I tried to lick at it as I felt myself wanting more.

Laura smiled at me. "You ate that pussy like a bitch."

"I want more," I said staring at her. "Let me see your ass."

Laura turned around and leaned over. I was hit with a flashback of her leaning over near my desk...that was the first time I stared at Laura's ass and now here it was. 

She got on all fours and arched her back looking back at me. Her blond hair fell to the side and she winked at me. Her round ass was very firm and perfectly fit. Her cheeks were pressed together near the top where I guessed her puckered asshole was. I saw her swollen lips against her thighs and I sat up and put my hands on her cheeks. I gripped them tightly then pulled them apart and I saw her little dark asshole. I stuck out my tongue and licked her left butt cheek.

She shuttered and I slid one finger into her pussy. I knew she liked to be fingered from behind because I loved it. I loved how deep it went. I stuck another finger in and started to fuck her. She moaned as I slid my fingers in and out. I took my fingers out and spread her cheeks so I could get my mouth in there. My tongue slid in and she pressed against me. I knew her ass was against my face and I went wild. I started to fuck her pussy with my tongue. With both hands on her hips I tongued her and she moaned as I did it. 




The Descent Ch. 01



We went faster and faster until I was on my knees and Laura's ass was in the air with her face on the bed. Jen grabbed my tits from behind and sucked my earlobe. Laura's pussy was so wet it began to dribble down my cheeks. She came and almost fell over but I held her up. I pulled my tongue out and kissed Jen's mouth.

Jen put her hand on Laura's ass and slapped it loudly. She bit my lip then looked at me. "Do you know why she stuck her ass up like this?"

I looked at Laura then back to Jen.

"She wants you to lick her ass."

I looked at her swollen pussy then up to her wet asshole. It was so little, dark and puckered. I had never heard of that before though it had occurred to me from to time to time to try anal sex.

"Do you want us to eat your ass Laura?" Jen asked.

Laura wiggled her perfect but. "Yes...please..." she was breathless and waiting.

I watched Jen finger Laura's pussy until her finger was really wet. She then rubbed the wetness against the puckered asshole. It twitched at her touch and she carefully and gently worked her finger inside. Jen kissed me as she rubbed Laura's asshole. Then she pulled her finger out and I stuck my tongue out. 

My body was burning and I felt the rough skin against my tongue. I licked at the hole gingerly and it started to open for me. Laura moaned and I felt Jen's hands on my tits again. I pressed forward and my tongue slid into her asshole. For a moment I left it there...surprised at the ease she took it. Then I realized it was my tongue and not a finger or a big dick. I was tonguing the best ass I had ever seen.

I grabbed at her cheeks and licked and tongued as best as I could. My body tingled and burned as I licked. Jen rubbed my pussy and felt my tits as I licked and I knew Laura loved it. She kept calling me a dirty bitch and I got one hand over her pussy to make her cum. I rubbed her clit and licked her asshole and then it happened.

"Oh my!" she screamed and grabbed my hair so hard I thought she would pull it out. Her body shuddered and writhed as she came. She shook and shook then fell forward. I stared at her with my face still covered in her sex. I couldn't believe I just ate here ass until she came.

Jen had two fingers in me and I leaned forward and stuck my ass up for her. I grabbed onto Laura and stuck my ass up. I felt Jen's tongue on my skin and I shuddered. "Do it Jen...lick my asshole...please..." I felt her tongue against it and tried to push against her.

She licked and licked. Then she rubbed my pussy more and pressed the juice against my ass. "Let me get you ready hon." She said. Laura's skin felt good against mine so I held her. Suddenly I felt Jen's finger push into my ass and it hurt. 

"Ouch," I said loudly. It was uncomfortable and not what I was expecting.

"Shhh," Jen said. She moved her finger around in a circle and I felt things start to numb. Then she pulled her finger and I felt her mouth. The soft warm of her tongue was amazing compared to her finger. I knew her tongue went into me and it felt wet, warm and comforting. She pulled my ass apart and her tongue went in very deep. I groaned at the feeling as she squeezed my clit at the same time. Back and forth she moved her tongue and I felt myself wanting to cum.

I moaned loudly and I felt warmth rush over my body. I came hard against Jen's face and squeezed her tongue with my asshole. I heard her moan into me and I let her continue to lick me. In and out she licked me with her tongue and she moaned and moaned. I realized she was rubbing her own pussy and she came while licking my ass.

Finally she pulled her head back and slapped my butt. I lay to the side and smiled up at her wet face. "I think we need some cock." She said.



The Descent Ch. 01



The house stood on a narrow tree-lined street fronting the canal - an anonymous doorway beside a cramped shop front which from the faded sign seemed once to have been a bakery. Now the window displayed half a dozen shoe boxes with perched on each a single confection of frail coloured leather. She crossed the cobbles and for a moment stared into the window. She found herself looking at a delicate platform with black woven straps. But she barely registered fact because somehow as she crossed the street she'd become aware without looking that the door to number 26 was open. 

Now that she was here her sense of herself seemed to have deserted her. She was a shell. She could not begin to decide whether to go in or to turn back because the person who took these decisions, the thinking, reasoning part of her had gone. A wind was blowing from the direction of the railway bridge sending a scattering of dead leaves along the gutter. She felt the breeze go through her, as if her body was incapable of offering the slightest resistance to even this insubstantial movement of air. 

So it was without volition that she turned aside, lifted her hand and entered 26 Rue de Sante.

It was dark in the hall. Plaster was peeling from the walls of what had once been an imposing entrance. A broad staircase rose in front of her, its steps littered with debris. She stood on the cold tiles and listened. Nothing. The house smelled of damp and neglect. To her left a door opened onto an empty room lit by a gap in the wooden shutters. A dusty chandelier hung drunkenly from the ceiling. Not there, she thought. 

The street was just a step away. She had only to turn and make her way out into the daylight and it would be over. She could return to her hotel, pack, confirm her train reservation, and be back in the arms of her husband by morning. How simple that would be to accomplish. She could slip back into her familiar life and pick up where she had left off less than a week before. She opened her purse and looked inside, as if in search of something that might help her. But beyond a single 100 franc note, carefully folded, the purse was empty. Was she ready? Had she done what he asked of her? She ran through the written instructions he'd asked her to memorise to make sure. Yes, everything was as he wished. She closed the purse and headed towards the stairs.

The staircase delivered her to a broad landing which swung back on itself and led to a large room at the front of the building. Light poured in from four large windows overlooking the street. Like the rest of the house, the room was empty of furnishings except for a single discarded café chair which lay on it's side. He was standing by the window, smoking a cigarette. He must have watched her arrive. A big man. They had warned her of that. With a mane of silver hair whose unruly bulk fell onto the collar of his overcoat. 

"Come in. Please." 

He spoke without turning to look at her and blew a long spiral of smoke into the air. Then throwing aside his cigarette he ground it into the floorboards and faced her.

He looked at her carefully, and once again she felt the hollowness that had become so familiar over the last days invade her. She was sure he could sense the frailty in the image of herself she was struggling to present to him.

"I have other houses", he said. "But this one I keep as it is." 

He gestured in the direction of a patch of brickwork that was showing through the damp plaster. 

"It's good to be reminded of what lies underneath the civilised exterior don't you think?"

She could think of nothing to say to this – but it seemed that nothing was required because he went on with barely a pause.

"Let me tell you what you're thinking. You're here without quite knowing what has brought you. All you know is that you have seen a door that till now has been closed to you. And you feel that not to open it would be a betrayal of who you are, or who you could become. This is your chance to open that door. Am I right?"

She nodded.

"Very well. I think it's time you showed what you've brought me. Open your coat."

She had known this moment would come. If she obeyed him, any pretence that she was merely curious would evaporate. She would be condemned by her own complicity. From that moment on she would not be the person who had entered the room, the woman who had arrived in Paris only a few days before with a house and a future and a husband who loved her. She would be another. She knew all this. And yet she did not hesitate. She did as he asked and at once felt the cold air of the room on her skin.

"Wider."

She held her coat open so that he could look at her. Her breasts were uncovered. Below the coat she wore only the black lace pants and the stockings he had asked for.

"You've shaved?"

She nodded, waiting for some words of approval, some acknowledgement that he was pleased with what he saw. But he simply went on speaking in his detached way.

"You are young. Your body is a stranger to you. You have lived with it for 20 years but you have not begun to understand. The body has a language of its own. This I think you suspect or you would not be here. You need someone to show you what that language is, whatever the cost, because you fear that not knowing will leave you incomplete. You believe I am a person who can show you. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then now it is time to choose. In a moment I am going to ask if you wish to stay. You are of course free to leave here. If you decide to walk away no one will try to stop you. The door is still open. But understand this. If you stay, then you put yourself entirely in my hands. Whatever happens to you from then on will not be for you to decide. Is that absolutely clear?"

Her arms were beginning to tremble with the effort of holding the coat open, and the cold had touched her breasts so that her nipples stood out. The hollowness seemed to have concentrated somewhere in the pit of her stomach. 

"I'm not accustomed to having to ask twice."

His voice hadn't changed but she caught the threatening edge.

"I understand", she said quickly

"That's good."

She was aware of her shaved lips beneath the lace, her legs planted on the cold floor. This was really her body in the coat and its strangeness seemed to confirm the truth of what he was saying.

"So. I'd like you to choose. Stay. Or go, and never come here again."

The hollowness was moving lower. He breathing was quick and shallow. The words emerged by themselves.

"I'd like to stay."

Now that it was said, she felt a great release, like a knot untying, and she knew then that in truth she had had no choice at all.

For a moment he said nothing. Then smiled in approval, turned, picked up the cane chair and set it firmly on its legs. 

"Very well."

He sat down and looked at her.

"Tozic!"

At the sound of his voice a door opened and a second man entered the room. Much younger this time but powerful and broad shouldered. He strode into the room and stood next to her. The older man considered them both for a moment, then nodded.

It happened so quickly she was powerless to prevent it. The newcomer, Tozic, tipped her over and was between her legs before she realised what was happening. He didn't pause to take off her pants just pushed them aside and drove his stiff cock into her. The invasion was sudden and complete. She wouldn't have believed it was possible but somehow her body had played another of its tricks and she was ready to receive him. Lying on the hard floor, she could feel his cock moving inside her, bruising her shaved lips. And then - the impossible unfamiliarity of it, the surprise of her own wetness, the way she found herself reaching for him, matching his rhythm, all this gathered in her stirring her to revolt. No, this was wrong, this couldn't happen, she would be no part of this, not any more –

And then to her surprise, he withdrew, and in a moment her revolt collapsed. She realised her body had already betrayed her. At the instant of withdrawal it was not relief she felt but a sudden sharp pang of regret at her abrupt abandonment. Whatever her conscious mind was telling her, part of her wanted him, wanted the cock back inside her.

He moved quickly from between her legs, taking her head in his hands and turning it towards him where he knelt. And then her mouth was opening and taking him in and she could taste her own salty juices on him mixed with a sour taste that was entirely his own. All pretence of resistance was gone. She reached for him with her tongue as he drove into her. Now he tipped her head back and with long slow strokes began to go deeper. She gagged at first but then relaxed and felt the tip of his cock enter her throat. No one had done this to her before. He squeezed her nipples fiercely and used them to pull himself towards her, sliding ever deeper into her throat until she found her lips pressed against his pubic bone at every thrust. She gave herself up to it waiting for the hot spurt of semen. But then for the second time the man Tozic pulled out of her.

She struggled for breath, trying to understand what was happening to her. In his chair the man watched them expressionless. Tozic hadn't finished. Working quickly, like a man under orders, he turned her over, picked her up bodily and set her on all fours, then pulled her arms clear so that her head was on the cold tiles and the soft cheeks of her bottom raised in the air. He stripped aside the flimsy lace, dragging it down and over her legs. For a moment the material snagged on her heel. Suddenly she understood. Tozic wiped saliva from his lips and opening her cheeks rubbed it on the tight whorl of her anus. Then reached lower and smeared her with her own juices. When that was done he aimed the swollen head of his cock at the mark and began to lean into her.

Every muscle in her body closed against him. She cried out. But Tozic pressed on. She felt a sharp stinging slap on one cheek that made her catch her breath. Then another and in the confusion and swirl of her senses something released in her and she began to open. The head of Tozic's cock slipped beyond the outer ring of muscle and lodged there. She was breathing heavily now, dragging the air into her lungs with an animal sound that did not seem to belong to her. He'd stopped moving. He was no longer pushing at her, just waiting, as she held out against him. And then something gave way and she was open to him, more open than she had ever been, and leaning back into him and feeling his cock slide into her filling her completely. He began to move, slowly now, gliding into her bowels, taking her surrendered body and claiming it with each thrust of his cock. And she took him in gratefully, surrendering to him, until her body played one last trick on her and she began come, shuddering into orgasm and crying out.

For the last time Tozic pulled out. He turned her on her back. Then he was astride her, working his cock in his hand. She watched with extraordinary detachment as the swollen head emerged from his fist at each stroke, as his rhythm quickened, as the hot semen leaped from him onto her waiting breasts. She felt the warm liquid trickle across one nipple and into the gap between them. For just a moment she felt entirely and utterly at peace.

And then Tozic had gone and the man was watching her.

"You're mine now", he said getting up and offering her his hand.

She climbed unsteadily to her feet and allowed herself to be led to the chair.

"There will be a taxi waiting for you downstairs in ten minutes. I would advise you to rest until then. You will hear from me very soon."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving her, still breathing heavily on the hard upright chair. She watched him turn as he reached the stairs, but he did not look back.

She was suddenly very cold. She wrapped the coat round her. Ten minutes, he'd said. She wasn't sure that would be enough. Her right leg had begun to shake uncontrollably.



The Descent Ch. 01



"Come on!" She was pulling on his ears now.

Oh my God, he thought, I can't believe I am actually doing this. Suddenly his courage returned. He pressed his lips to her, and gave her a deep French kiss. She began to spasm around his tongue as she came. She pulled his nose even deeper within her cunt -- he couldn't breathe at all. He was going to suffocate, swallowed up completely by her flesh. Something hard and bitter was pressing against the tip of his tongue, a turd, he was sure of if. She was moaning now, almost screaming, and her fingernails were raking the back of his neck. The hard tile floor was digging into his knees. It was the most glorious moment of his existence.

After an eternity, she relaxed, and released him. He stood up, painfully, willing his knees to move. He leaned over her, gazing down at that angelic face, and then he bent down and kissed her. She made no resistance, no sign of disgust. She opened her mouth to his tongue, she brushed hers against his. He almost came, then and there, from the feel of her tongue against his. But not yet. He wasn't going to be satisfied until he saw his semen dribbling out from her asshole. He stood up again, pulled down his pants, and prepared to place his erection where his tongue had been.

There was a loud knock. More trick-or-treaters? No -- it was Billy, pounding at the family room door.

"It won't open!"

"Sorry," Karina shouted. "It jams sometimes."

"Let me out!"

"It will take a moment. We will have to find the key."

"Hurry! I've got to use the bathroom again!"

With a sigh, Tom pulled his pants up and went over to the sink to rinse his face off. 

"Well, Tom and Billy, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She was so calm, so composed. They had shared a beer and some conversation, that was all.

"You have more cartoons?" Billy asked hopefully.

"Of course. You may come watch them whenever you wish. Assuming," she added quickly, "that your father approves." 

*

Author's note: While this started out as a simple Halloween story, it is turning into a full blown novel. I'm posting the first few chapters for the Halloween contest. The rest still has to be written out.

Stayed tuned for Chapter 2, when Tom's wife returns for a weekend of desperation. 



The Descent Ch. 02



After he had Billy safely off to bed, he spent the rest of the evening surfing for pictures of Karina, of women who looked like Karina, of women doing the things Karina was doing in her photos, of men doing the things that he had done for her -- and of men doing things to other men. He searched for articles on anal sex, on oral sex from the perspective of the provider. He went through cycles of exhilaration, repulsion, and terror. But never regret. Just the opposite. He was tempted to slip out of the house, to run back down the hill, to pound on Karina's door and to beg her -- for what? Only the image of her face, filled with amusement and contempt, held him in his bed. Only the vague realization that he would need all his resources for his wife's return held him back from emptying his balls onto the sheets.

He may have dozed. He may have only been day dreaming, letting his body sleep while his mind raced in a circuit, over and over, remembering what he had done, what he had seen, regretting what he had not done. He was awake enough to hear the limo pulling into the driveway. He opened the front door just as his wife was fumbling with the key.

"Hello," she stared at him, "I guess you're glad to see me." He had pulled on a robe, not bothering to close it. "Good thing I didn't let the driver carry up my bags. Don't kiss me," she shrugged him off. "I really need to brush my teeth. You too," she scowled. "What the hell have you been eating?" He realized, belatedly, that he had been preserving Karina's taste in his mouth. Like back in college, when he wouldn't wash his cock off after fucking, letting it get caked with the residue of desire, preserved, like a trophy

"Stop it." She pushed him away. "I really need the bathroom." 

"How are you?" he asked belatedly. "How was your flight?"

"It sucked. We'll talk about it later." She was staring fixedly at his cock. "Look, dear, I need some time to unwind."

"Of course. I'm sorry." This wasn't going well. He remembered that one time in college, when he had come up to see her over the summer. She had still been living at home, out in Brooklyn, and she had come all the way back into his hotel on Sunday morning. She had knocked on the door of his hotel room, he had greeted her in pyjamas, and she had not been amused.

"Look!" She was getting really angry now. "I can see what you've been thinking about all night, but I've had a really lousy day, a really lousy flight. God, I'm going to have to go back out there again Monday, we didn't get things wrapped up -- I should have just stayed out there."

"Laurie, I'm sorry."

"I just want to go to sleep." She was staring at him defiantly. That look was enough to wilt him, at least temporarily.

"Sure," he said, "sure." He went into the front bathroom, Billy's bathroom, and found some kiddie toothpaste. He swirled it around his mouth for a while, peed, and lay down again, trying to relax. She was a long time in the bathroom, and he was almost asleep by the time she came in to lie down beside him.

"Oh," she said, "clean bathroom, clean sheets. How nice." She turned away so that he could rub her back.

Yes, he had prepared everything for the return of his love. Then he had gone out with Billy for trick or treat. Then he had seen Karina ...

"Tom," she felt him stiffening against her butt, "I thought we were just going to cuddle and sleep now."

"We are," he assured her.

"Well, I'm going to sleep. You can suit yourself. Rub there a little more. No, where your hand is." With that, she gave a sigh. Her breathing was slower, deeper, punctuated with little snores.

"Laurie, Laurie." He gave her a little kiss on the back of her neck, just behind her ear. 

"Mmmph."

Suit yourself. That's what she'd told him She was warm, her skin soft above hard muscles. He started to rub against the crease between her cheeks. That was going to chafe her. That was the excuse he gave himself as he rolled over the other way to find the lube. He rolled back.

"Rub some more," she said. "right under the shoulder blade." He did that, but in the process he shifted so that his cock was in between her legs. She grunted a little, and rolled away, just a bit. If anything, that opened her up more to his intrusion.

"Don't wake me up," she said.

"Of course not." He stopped moving.

"You can rub more." She started to snore again. Rub what with what? She had not specified. In effect, she'd given him permission, hadn't she, more or less? As long as he didn't wake her up? He started to move his hips again. Stop it. She was going to say stop it, and he would stop. But she wasn't saying anything. The tip of his penis had found a place that was hotter, a little softer. He dared to put a finger there, and she squirmed. "You're scratching me," she protested, and he moved his hand back so that only the tip was touching her. 

The brief touch with a finger had been enough to tell him that he had been a little off, a bit too far back. He adjusted his aim as best he could, without another finger touch, and he began to press in, very gently, very carefully. He could feel a tight ring of flesh slipping around him, just a little, then a little more. Half the tip was in her now, it seemed, hitting a point of resistance that frightened him.

"That's too hard," she said. "You're hurting me."

"Sorry." He backed off a little, concerned that he was in the wrong place after all, and she began to snore again.

It was time, past time, for him quit while he was ahead, to turn away and to go back to sleep. But he didn't. Well, he did turn away briefly, to apply more lube, and he was sure that she would shift position, roll over on her back. But she did not object as he manoeuvred back into place.

This time he was more patient, she more relaxed. There was no mistaking where the right spot was this time. When he hit it, the tip moved all the way inside her, just like that. She grunted a little, she shifted, just a bit, but he managed to shift with her, to maintain his penetration. God, he thought, what now? The tightness, the heat of her flesh, was intoxicating, driving him for more. He started to fuck her, with tiny little motions, very gently, very slowly, pushing just a little harder each time. Suddenly, one push went further. What his tongue had felt before, his cock was feeling now -- the smooth muscular tube wrapped tightly around it. He was, he confirmed gingerly, at least halfway in. He dared to press until he felt her cheeks against his thighs. That was too much. She grunted, and rolled over on her stomach, dislodging him.

Damn! He tried to tug her back on to her side.

"Stop that!" She shrugged his hand away. "That's enough rubbing. I want to go to sleep now."

Did she realize what he had been doing? Most likely not. He felt his penis -- it was coated with the lube and something more pungent -- spicy, aromatic. She must have been eating a lot of Mexican food on her trip. God, he had been so close, so close! He needed to come. But no amount of straining could push him over the edge. In the end, he fell asleep, next to her.

It seemed like Billy was looking for breakfast almost immediately. By the time his wife appeared, the football games had started. He had already popped open a beer. He kissed her, he was ready to do more than kiss her, but Billy had to go to soccer practice. By the time they got back, he was muddy, sweaty -- and she was raking leaves with a pointed fury.

"They just fell yesterday afternoon," he pretested, "I would have gotten them."

"I need to hit something!" She was attempting to move an enormous pile toward the street -- thrashing at it with all her might. "I hate this! I hate this!" She collapsed into his arms, weeping,

"Laurie," he said, "you don't have to do this. You can find another job. I can find a job." But he knew it was a lie. Everything they had depended on her. "Let's go for a walk." So they set off, just the two of them, leaving Billy to clean up on his own.

"We're in trouble," Laurie muttered

"You and me?" Had she figured that out already? So quickly? Had she realized what he had been doing to her the night before?

"No, not you and me. Well, maybe. I'm sorry I turned you down," she whispered, "I promise tonight will be better."

"And Sunday?"

"Sunday I'll be gone again." It was almost a wail. "Tom, you have to take me down to the airport tomorrow afternoon. I have to be out there for a meeting Monday morning. We have people out there working all weekend."

"You're in trouble."

"Yes, I'm in trouble. We're going to be at least two weeks late, half the stuff isn't working yet, the customer, our customer, is having trouble getting her boss to sign off -- Tom, there's a real good chance this thing is going to be cancelled."

"And then?"

"Well, I'll be around the house a lot more. Assuming we have a house."

"What time do you have to get to the airport?"

"One."

"One?" Tom was fretting now. "Billy has Sunday school."

"We'll leave from there. Damn! I wanted to get some sleep!"

"Why can't you take the limo?"

"Tom!" She was crying now. "I got a note this morning. They didn't want me to come home this weekend. They're not going to pay for the flight!"

"What?"

"Five hundred dollars! Tom! Where are we going to get five hundred dollars?"

"It was worth it," he kissed her. But his mind was racing. "They won't let you come back?"

"I don't know," she was sobbing now. "I don't know! Maybe it was just because things are so fucked up. Tom, Tom, I never see you, and when I do ..."

"It'll be okay," he said, without much conviction. "It'll be okay."

They rounded the bend, and came upon Karina's driveway. Far down, on the deck, a small figure was waving up at him. He waved back, timidly.

"You know them?" his wife was surprised.

"I met her last night." Better the half truth than the lie. "Billy ran down there to trick or treat."

"Oh, what's she like?"

"Beautiful. Strange. Russian, or something like that. Her husband is a diplomat."

"Oh yeah? Moldavia?"

"How did you know that?"

"I know her sister. She has a daughter in Billy's class. Wow, small world, isn't it?" Laurie smiled sweetly and waved down the driveway. "Her sister is built like a Russian tank," she added.

"Fat?"

"Solid. Five feet tall, two hundred pounds at least."

"Yeah," he said, "she's cut out of the same mould."

"I thought you said she was beautiful." Laurie was giving him a very strange look. He decided he'd better keep his mouth shut. They spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Later, after Billy was safely in bed, after they had prepared themselves, she asked him, teasingly, "all right, my love, what's you secret desire?"

"My secret desire?"

"Tom," she sighed. "I want tonight to be special. It may be our last time." After a moment, she added, "for a while."

"A while? How long?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "It depends what happens."

"You're going to be stuck in California."

"Maybe."

"You won't be back next weekend."

"No," she sighed again. "Not next weekend."

"Have you told Billy?"

"No," she snapped. "What the fuck am I supposed to tell him? No sense in getting him upset."

"Of course not." he tried to soothe her.

"So, my love," she kissed his forehead, cooed seductively, "let's make tonight special. What's your secret desire?"

His secret desire! The images of those murals were flashing in front of his eyes. Karina's full breasts and Laurie's tiny ones. Actually, his wife's tits were a bit fuller. All of her was a little fuller. She was putting on weight with all those restaurant meals. He sighed, then said it. "I want to do anal."

"What?" The seductive smile was gone. "You want to do what?"

"I want to do anal."

She slapped him. He was stunned. Then she collapsed into tears.

"What's the matter?" He tried to act offended. "You asked, didn't you?"

"You stupid, selfish ... God, I came back here, I endangered everything, I blew five hundred bucks, so you could fuck me up the ass? God, what am I doing here?"

"We had a nice walk. You had some quality time with Billy." 

"Yeah. You know what he asked me?"

"What?"

"He asked me what girls are supposed to taste like."

"What?"

"He said that Tiffany didn't taste very good. I told him maybe she had to brush her teeth. He just gave me a really funny look."


"You've to be kidding." He started to kiss down her belly. "You should have told him you taste delicious."

"Tom!" He thought he was going to get another slap, but she was giggling. "He's only in fifth grade!"

"They were probably just playing spin the bottle." He began to kiss lower. How many times had they done this together? She had groomed her pubic hair, most of it shaved away, the rest trimmed to a short fuzz. 

"You like?" she asked, as he ran his tongue along the bristles. "I was getting a manicure, and there was this lady next to me getting a trim."

"Right out in the open?"

"Yep. I decided I wanted one too. What to you think?"

"No curls."

"You miss the curls?"

He didn't answer. He was doing other things with his tongue. "Use your finger." She was urging his hand up under his chin. "No! Not there, inside of me. Up a little." There was a little raised spot. She sighed as he began to rub it. How many times had they done this together? Hundreds. Thousands, perhaps. She had never asked for this before. He had never thought to try it. He turned his hand so that his other fingers were trailing beneath. Gingerly, his began to circle her anus with his little finger.

"Take your finger out of my asshole, please." He slid it up a bit, onto the perineum. "That's okay." More than okay. She was starting to shudder. As she moved, somehow that little finger was working its way back and in with each iteration. Within a few, it was lodged securely in her, he was twitching both fingers, practically tearing her clit off with his tongue -- all the things she detested, that she objected to, and she was coming, wildly. Her anal ring was vibrating around his little finger, and he was almost coming himself from the sensation.

At last, after a long time, she gave one last gasp to end all gasps, one final contraction and surrender, and she pulled his head away. He pointedly left his fingers in place, and she reached down a hand to pry them away.

"I thought I asked you not to do that."

"You didn't seem to mind." He started to move that little finger some more, feeling her twitch at his touch.

"You are really determined, aren't you? Wasn't last night enough for you?"

That was enough to make him stop moving, even to stop breathing.

"What?" She was laughing at him. "What? You thought you were doing something sneaky? You were taking advantage of me? You pig!"

"Laurie," he stammered, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not. You're not the least bit sorry, and you know it."

"Well," he tried to make the best of the situation, "you know it doesn't hurt."

"If you try to come that way, it's going to hurt. You mess up my tailbone just fucking from the rear like that."

"Let me give it a try." 

He couldn't believe he was pushing her this hard. He was fully expecting her to storm off into the bathroom. But instead, she kissed him on the forehead again. "Tom," she gave him a long look, almost eyeball to eyeball, "I need this project."

Where was that coming from? "Let's talk about that later." He brushed her lips with his.

"No. Now. Right now. I'm going to do something for you." That was enough to take his breath away again. She kissed him in affirmation. "You are going to do something for me."

"What?" It's like a yacht ... he heard Karina's lilting voice, taunting him.

"Whatever I need to do to fix this project, I'm going to do. Understand?"

"I think so."

She rolled on her side, the same position she had been in the night before. Except now there were no covers to hide her, the lights were on, she was completely naked. The Odalisque, that's what she looked like, but with the correct number of vertebrae, and he kissed each one, all the way to the bottom of her spine. He placed his cock gingerly between her cheeks. 

"Gently," she muttered, "take it easy."

"Pull your top knee up a little more." He watched in fascination as his penis vanished into her flesh. Not that he had not seen it do that many times, but never this way. "How does that feel?" To him, it felt amazing. More like in her mouth than in her cunt, when he had worked his way behind her tongue. She was twitching still, just a little. He didn't move. He just lay there, for a moment, feeling her flesh pulsate around him.

"It's okay," she said. "Just don't take too long." He began to fuck her. "Oh!" 

"What's the matter?"

"You hit something. It hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't push in so far." He pulled back so that the tip of his penis was just inside the inner ring. He tried sliding back a bit more, to slide the ring around the bottom of the tip. She gave a little gasp.

"That hurt?"

"Sort of. Do it again."

"Don't do it again?" He didn't think he had heard her correctly.

"No, do it again." She gave another gasp as the tip fought against the constriction of the ring.

"I'm hurting you."

"It's okay."

He pulled out even further, so that the ring was sliding closed over the front of the tip, then pushed back in slowly. "How was that?"

"Keep doing that."

He went fairly slowly. She was gasping at each stroke. He reached the point where he was just about to come, and stayed there, moving very slowly now, kissing her back, feeling her trembling, twitching, convulsing. One last convulsion pushed him over the edge. "That was very nice," he said.

"Yeah." She had curled up into fetal position. "Not as bad as I thought."

"Not as bad?" He was sure she had climaxed three or four times. "You seemed to be enjoying it."

"It was okay." She rolled over on her back. "Got anything left?"

"Maybe."

"How about making love, nicely? That's what I want to remember."

*

Author's note: While this started out as a simple Halloween story, it is turning into a full blown novel. I'm posting the first few chapters for the Halloween contest. The rest still has to be written out.

Stayed tuned for Chapter 3, when Karina teaches Tom how to take it like a man. 



The Descent Ch. 02



I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. I felt this strange feeling in my stomach something that only could have happened after such an orgasm: guilt. I looked at the two beautiful women in front of me. Laura's back was to me and Jen leaned against the wall, on the floor smoking a cigarette. I became suddenly aware that I was naked and I knew I needed to get out of there. Without a word I put on my clothes and made my way for the door.

"Where are you going School Teacher?"

"Heidi?"

"I...I need to go...to the bathroom..." 

I stumbled out of the room and almost ran into another topless woman. I felt my cheeks grow red so I turned around and marched down the hall opposite the way I had come in. What was I doing? I mean this is why I came here right? I thought of my home, my job...my little dog sleeping on the edge of our bed. I didn't know why I came. 

I looked up the dim hall and continued on. There were doors on either side and some had windows. I glanced to my left and saw a man's chest in the room. I turned quickly away when I realized he was looking at me. I quickened my pace, came to the end of the hall and turned left. There were more doors on either side and a large door at the end. I was taking deep breaths and feeling like I was going to panic.

I went as fast as I could—almost running. I pushed through the door and found myself in another bar. Probably on the opposite side of the building. It was dimly lit, with several booths full of groups of people and a bar to my left. A bar tender was making a drink for a man slumped at the bar stool. I noticed the bar tender glance up at me and smile. He was younger than me, handsome and he nodded as I met his look. I looked down and went for the door. It was time to go back to my life.

I touched the handle then stopped to look back. The man at the bar looked up at me and the bar tender was gone somewhere. The man's eyes struck me...he looked just like I felt. I turned away from him. What am I doing? I couldn't walk out the door. I was not the same person that walked in. I mean I had spent countless hours staring at Laura and wondering what it would be like to be with a woman. Now not ten minutes ago I was licking her from behind. I thought of her body and her ass stuck out in front of me and my stomach turned again. I couldn't leave. There was no going back. Not to who I was. I turned around and looked back at the man at the bar.

He was a little older than me—maybe thirty with a firm chin; a nice smile and a kind of sad look in his eyes. I wasn't finished here. It was time to take the next step and to see where it led me. It was time to leave the person I was pretending to be behind and to just let go. I was ready to see who I was and where that would take me.

I glanced down at my slightly wrinkled blouse and skirt. I fiddled with the top button then pulled it open a bit. Why not? I took a deep breath to settle my nerves and walked toward the man at the bar. He watched me approach but I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me come over or not.

"Hi there," I said in almost a whisper. Maybe I wanted my voice to be different?

"Hello," He said in a nice voice. His eyes were green and I liked him.

"So I was about to leave...and then I saw you just sitting here alone."

"I see," he replied. "My name is..."

"I don't want to know," I cut in.

He nodded, "Um...ok. What do you want to know?"

I leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. "I was wondering if I could suck you cock?"

He shifted in his seat and grunted. "I...um...well..."

"I know why you're here," I whispered. "I am here for the same reason. Why don't we go down the hall and see where it leads us?" I looked into his eyes, my face two inches from his, "Green Eyes...my name is School Teacher."

He swallowed hard then nodded. "Ok...let's go."

I took him by the hand and went back toward the hallway.

"Wait," came a voice from behind us.

I turned nervously around. The cute bartender walked up to us. "I need to give you a room." He slid a key into my free hand. "162." He said with a wink. 

I thanked him and we made our way to the room. My heart was thumping in my chest and I felt butterflies in my stomach. My hands were cold with excitement or nerves or both...I couldn't tell which.

We opened the door and stepped in nervously. No time for doubts. I closed the door behind him then stood for a moment and took a deep breath. 

"Um...I want to tell you something," Green Eyes said.

"Are you sure?" I asked worried that he would tell me something he may regret.

"Yeah," He was blushing. "I might...you know...have one...too fast. I just..."

"Shhh..." I put my finger to his lips. I slid my hands down his chest then over his crotch. "Let's just see what happens ok?"

He nodded compliantly. I got down on my knees and fumbled with his pants. I slid them down and smiled to see the tip of his penis slipping out the front of his boxers. He was already getting very excited. I tugged at his boxers and slid them down with his pants down to his ankles. I looked at his cock and almost laughed out loud. It was perfect. Straight and thick, shaved nicely with a perfect set dangling beneath. I grabbed it with one hand and jerked it a couple times. It grew firm at my touch and I heard him take a breath. I opened my mouth and just touched the end with my tongue. 

It twitched at my touched and I felt longing growing in me. My husband never let me finish when I started on him. Of course he loved receiving the attention...but he always stopped me too soon. He never considered that I may like to do it...in fact that I might love to do it. Now here I was with this amazing cock in front of me. I was ready to offer what I could to it. I need to. 

I took it in my mouth as far as I could and wrapped my lips and tongue around it. My body tingled as I tasted it in my mouth. I felt myself starting to let go. I sucked it slowly, only holding it still with my hand so I could take it in and out easily. I took it out of my mouth and licked it on each side. It was damp with my spit and I grew more turned on. I took the tip in my mouth and sucked firmly for a few moments then took it all the way in. I felt Green Eyes' hands on my head as I worked it in my mouth. I quickened my pace and felt his hands grip my hair. I didn't want it to end yet. I slid it out of my mouth and licked it again. 

I pushed it up against his tummy. It was swollen and red from all my attention. His balls hung there in front of me and I began to lick them. With each lick I felt more and more of a craving. I wanted more. I opened my mouth and sucked his left ball and then his right. I licked over his balls again and again, remembering to keep a hand slowly moving up and down his rigid and swollen shaft. I licked and sucked his balls greedily then pushed his shaft back down to my lips. 

I heard him mutter to me as I sucked and it drove me wild. I worked it in my mouth and rubbed it with my tongue. I felt like I wanted to devour it. I opened as wide as I could and took it in as far as I could. I wanted the whole thing and I sucked it as it slid out and pushed it as far as it could go. I almost gagged on it and pushed it back. I never did that before and I took his cock out and stared at it. It was rigid, pulsating and swollen. I grunted hungrily and licked it and began to suck his balls again.

"Oh my..." Green Eyes murmured. He grabbed at my hair and slid his hands down the back of my neck. "Please...don't stop..." he groaned.

I pushed his shaft up and opened my mouth for his balls. I sucked each one then tried to get both and he groaned loudly as I sucked. I felt them shift and I tugged at them with my lips. I licked up to the tip of his dick and started sucking again. I wanted it...I slid my hand over his balls and held them. I knew it was churning in there...I needed it.

He put both hands on the sides of my face and pumped my face against him. I sucked and sucked keeping one hand on his balls and the other I gripped his ass. 

"Uh..." he groaned as he thrust his hips. "I am gonna..."

He pulled my mouth back off his cock and I almost bit at it. I wanted it so bad. I looked up at him in pure lust. "I want to your cum...please...give it to me."

He took a breath and nodded then pressed his cock in my mouth. I sucked it eagerly. I massaged his balls and swallowed with my throat as it hit the back of my mouth. I drooled and watered...my legs were damp from my excitement and I drove my mouth harder each time over his dick. He groaned and bucked his hips.

Then I felt another hand running over my back. Fingers sliding under my collar. I sucked the cock harder and just enjoyed the extra touches. I gripped his ass with both hands and he called out.

"Ahh!" he yelled and I felt his body jerk. His hips bucked wildly and in a sudden rush my mouth was filled with warmth. I grunted and swallowed it as it came dumping out. I sucked growing crazy as I swallowed. I grabbed his cock and pumped it more, wanting every drop. I felt it oozing down my cheek and I sucked more. I didn't want to lose any. 

Then he was still. His dick jerked a few more times and he held my head firmly in both hands. I opened my mouth and licked it. Not a drop was there...I rubbed it off my chin with my thumb and licked it. Warm, salty and wonderful. I looked up at him breathless and wild. I was so wet I couldn't stand it. I had never wanted anything more...ever. I almost grunted with frustration when I saw in his face he was done. Damn men.

Then I felt a push against my cheek. I turned to see another cock jabbing at me. I looked up and saw the bartender looking down at me. His pants were down and he was looking at me intensely. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Shut up," I said as I grabbed his dick. I sucked it vigorously. I let it drop from my mouth and I sucked the side and licked his balls. I wanted more...I couldn't suck it hard enough. He groaned and grunted. I stopped and looked up at him with my hand on his dick. "I want you to fuck me." I said it in a voice I had never heard. I looked up at Green Eyes. "You too when you are ready."

I stood up and Bartender helped me out of my clothes. I was out of my bra and panties faster than I could ever remember doing before. I turned and saw the untouched bed and walked over to it. I leaned over then stopped. "How do you want me?" I asked looking back at Bartender trying to flip my hair unsuccessfully. 

"Just like that," he said. He was holding his cock with one hand and I took a longing breath. 

I wanted to be filled. I could still taste the cum on my lips and I was ready for more. I almost cried out when I felt Bartender's dick pressed against me from behind. He gripped my hips and pushed it in firmly. I slowly took it and breathed out at the same time. He pushed into me—farther and farther until I felt his body against my ass. I groaned as he pulled back then pushed again. I gripped his cock as best as I could and I was amazed at how easily I took him. I had never been this wet before. 

He pumped me slowly...careful to pull back until the tip of his cock was almost out then plunging in again. I pressed my hands against the bed and leaned on all fours. With each pull back I would lean forward and then press against him as he pushed into me. We fell into a rhythm like this: meeting our pushes on his cock...each time pausing at the end at the feeling of his full length inside me. With each deep thrust I wanted more; I wanted it deeper. I let my face lean on the bed and I lay my hands above me, so I could stick my ass in the air for him. I spread my legs as best as I could. With every move I felt his dick moving in me and as I lay forward I groaned as I felt it go deeper.

He maneuvered my hips and ass with his hands and managed to find a better angle and he thrust into me further. So slow and deliberate. I met each thrust with a push back as best as I could I gripped at the bed spread and took breaths in rhythm. He began to quicken his pace. I felt his thumbs spreading my ass so he could go deeper and deeper. I tried to straighten my legs so I could thrust against him.

"Harder...oh..." My body trembled as thrust me hard and I heard our bodies slap together. My orgasm shook me and I called out, "Fuck! Ah, ah...ah..." Each thrust felt deeper and harder. I gripped his cock as best as I could, but my pussy was soaking. Wetness ran down my thighs and slopped on the bed as he fucked me. Faster and faster until he was groaning from the effort. I wondered when he would cum. I begged him to cum for me. To fill me up. 

"No," He said loudly to my surprise.

He yanked his cock from my throbbing pussy. I grunted and looked back at him. He slapped my ass firmly with his hand. "This ass...I was staring at it the whole time you were walking by." He said staring at it. 

"You tease..." I said as I wiggled it. "You want it...here it is." I realized I was sweating and so was he.

Green Eyes' cock was jutting up straight. He stood beside the bed rubbing his beautiful dick and looking at me. "I...I always wanted to fuck a school teacher." He said trembling.

I felt Bartender start to lick me from behind. I closed my eyes in pleasure and moaned. I opened and looked at Green Eyes. I reached for his cock and grabbed it, pulling him onto the bed. "I could suck this cock forever..." I said more to his dick than to him and started sucking it. He rubbed my hair and back as I sucked. 

Bartender was fingering me from behind and thumbing at my clit. I felt another rush over my body and I moaned, letting Green Eyes' cock fall from my mouth. I licked it and sucked it more, then worked on his balls. I knew he loved it. So I sucked his balls with more force and they both went into my wide mouth. Bartender ran his fingers over my asshole. I had never done anal before. The closest I ever had was Laura and Jen's tongue in there. I sucked the balls more and jerked his cock.

Bartender started licking my asshole. He gripped my ass cheeks so tightly and pulled them apart so his tongue would run all up and down my ass. My body tingled and my boobs were swollen. Green Eyes grabbed my nipples and turned them. The pain surprised me and excited me. I stared at his beautiful cock. If I was going to take it in the asshole, it would need to be by this cock.

I looked up at him. "Green Eyes," I said.

He looked down at me with desire. "What is it?"

"Would you put your cock in my ass?" I looked at him, swallowing with each deep lick from Bartender.

He didn't say anything at first. Then he grabbed his own dick and walked behind me. I wiggled so Bartender would move. He moved away so Green Eyes could get in position. I reached back and tugged at Bartender until he crawled next to me. I grabbed his hand as he slid in front of me and touched my chin with his dick. I looked up at him. 

Green Eyes rubbed his hands all over my pussy then rubbed my wet asshole. He licked at my ass then rubbed it more. Gently he rubbed his finger over it and started to push it in. I resisted him out of instinct. Bartender's cock pressed against my lips, then my cheek. The feeling of its heat distracted me and Green Eye's pushed his finger in. I gasped at the discomfort,

"You have never done this before have you?" Bartender asked as he looked over me toward my ass.

I looked up at him with a little fear. "No."

He smiled at me. "School Teacher, your ass was not just built to be looked at. It was made to fuck."

He said it so gently I was amazed at how it sounded. My ass was made to fuck?

I wiggled again as I felt Green Eyes push another finger in. It went from slightly uncomfortable to a little pain. I shook my head, Bartender's cock slapping at me as I did. What was I doing? Was I ready for this? I looked at Bartender and then at his cock so close to my face. I was having sex with two men. Sluts had sex with two men. Is that what I was? I thought of stopping and then Green Eyes pushed the tip of his dick into my ass.

"Ahh!" I cried out. He stopped quickly and I gripped the tip of his enormous cock with my ass. 

Bartender grabbed both my hands and gripped them tightly. Green Eyes rubbed around my burning ass and then pushed again. I felt an aching sensation and stretching. It came in waves as he pushed in slowly. His dick seemed huge as he pushed. I wanted to yell, to tell him to stop, to swear at him and this bartender for...I don't know what. Then I realized my pussy was dripping. My heart was racing. With each painful push I clenched Bartender's hands tighter and waited expectantly for more. I felt full. 

He pushed further and then I felt his body against my ass. "School Teacher, you have my entire cock in your ass." He said breathlessly. 

Pleasure and pain mixed together. I knew I what I wanted so the phrase just slipped out of my mouth. "Fuck me." My mind started racing. My body twitching. I felt like I was on the brink...this was my threshold. I was ready. I opened my mouth and took in the cock waiting for my attention. My ass was burning, but my body was crying out. My mind let go and I felt like I was falling...descending. 

"This is so...tight," Green Eyes said as he pulled back, almost out then pushing in again. I sucked Bartender's cock ravenously. This is what I wanted. I tugged at his cock and balls with my lips and my tongue. Green Eye's pushed in deep and slow. Over and over again until my ass was numb. The pain was still there, but something overtook me by surprise: an orgasm. I screamed against the dick in my mouth.

Then he started to fuck my ass. After a long succession of slow pumps he now was fucking it hard and fast. I closed my eyes and sucked. The empty/ full of the dick in my ass and the sensation drove me crazy. I sucked Bartender's cock and started to jerk it with my hands. He bucked against my mouth as I took his cock. He grabbed my hair and started fucking my mouth groaning with each thrust. My ass gripped Green Eye's cock as tightly as it could and I did my best to breath while the dick knocked against my throat.

Our bodies were slapping and then Green Eyes gripped my ass tightly and yelled. "Oh..." His body shook and he pulsated. He grabbed my hips and yanked me up so the cock was out of my mouth. I was up then back, sitting with his perfect cock in my ass. I squeezed my cheeks against it and felt his balls firmly planted there. He grabbed my boobs from behind and thrusted up a few times. As I slid up and down on his cock I felt the warm cum slipping out. He kissed my neck and nibbled my ear. I took a deep breath then looked at Bartender. He stared at me holding his dick in his hand.

I pushed off of Green Eye's lap then felt the tug of his dickhead against my asshole. My ass cheeks were slimy with his cum. He lifted me off finally and I felt emptiness in my ass. I knew what Bartender wanted and I was ready to give it. Or rather to take it. I turned around in front of him and looked at Green Eye's tired face and cum covered limping dick. I didn't have time to get on my knees as I was pushed down in a sitting position on Bartender's dick.

I felt myself cry out and my eyes watered. The difference in the two cocks was amazing. My body adjusted and gripped his dick. The moving muscles sent chills through my body and when he lifted me and dropped me on his cock for the first time I cried out as an orgasm shook me. I put a hand down over my clit and started rubbing it as he lifted me and dropped me again and again. He grabbed my hair with one hand and did his best to lift me to fuck me. He couldn't manage so I fell forward with my mouth ready to take in Green Eye's damp cock one last time. 

I gripped the cock with my ass so it wouldn't come out. Bartender got over me, grabbed my hips and plunged into me from above and behind. I licked the cum and juice off of Green Eye's cock. It was growing soft and I knew he didn't have any left for me. I let it go and looked up at him as Bartender fucked me. I stared at him and thought of Laura and Jen: their perfect bodies in front of me. I wanted to eat their asses, to suck their boobs...to watch a cock go in their asses and to suck it. 




The Descent Ch. 02



"Oh my...School Teacher your fucking perfect ass...oh oh..." Bartender started yelling. He fucked me hard. He dick drove deep into me and all I could do was stare at Green Eye's and given in to my lust. I knew tears ran down my cheeks. I cried as I had another orgasm that made my legs squirm and profanity spilled out.

"I'm gonna cum!" Bartender yelled as he drove deeper and deeper. His balls flapped against me and I pushed my burning ass up each time.

"Shit!" I yelled. "Fuck my ass...fuck me...oh..."

He grabbed my hair in both hands and screamed through his clenched teeth. I felt his dick plunging deeper and faster. Wetness poured down my legs as he fucked me. His body jerked and twisted and his cock pulsated as all his cum shot into me. I grabbed my boobs breathed loudly as his cock slipped out of me spewing cum all over my back. It was warm on my skin and I lay still, feeling his breath behind me.

My mouth was dry and my body felt limp. Green Eyes was looking at me and Bartender slid his hands over my shoulders. I felt both of their longing for me and their fear that it was over. I loved the feeling. After a moment I rolled to my side and looked at both of them. "I have a girlfriend here you know."



The Descent Ch. 02



When she reached Paris a week earlier Lena had been expecting to stay with an old friend from her college days. Together they had planned excursions to the list of galleries drawn up by her husband and promised each other when that was done they would enjoy the luxury of drinking chocolate together in the Luxembourg Gardens. But she had already boarded the train when their final letters crossed in the post and she arrived at the small flat on Rue de Colette to find no sign of her friend. A neighbour explained she had been called to the sanatorium in Arles where her mother was dying. Lena was at a loss. It wasn't just that her ticket was for a week hence -- no doubt she could have changed it at the station -- but she found herself unwilling to lose this first taste of freedom that her married life had offered her. After wandering for an hour in the unfamiliar streets she entered a small hotel on the Rue Chevert and took a room.

Her first deception was to write a short note to her husband confirming her safe arrival and installation at the Rue de Colette. That done, she set her suitcase on the folding stand in her room and stood looking at herself in the ancient foxed mirror. She opened her dress and stepped out of it. A dizzying sense of freedom had overtaken her. The woman who stared back at her from the mirror was a mystery. Young, upright and slender, she seemed entirely untouched by the world. This was not far from the truth. Her husband was a fastidious man, a lawyer. In the 12 months of their married life he had never seen her naked. When he took her it was always in the dark, always without removing his nightshirt. He was a good man, she told herself, generous and kind. She was lucky to have him. But it saddened her that he locked the bathroom door when he bathed and corrected her when she did not do the same. Older than she was, he had promised to be her teacher. He was as good as his word. Bit by bit she was learning to feel shame at her own body. 

Without thinking she let her hand move to her breast. She watched the hand in the mirror obediently follow. She marvelled at the mystery of touch. It was as if her hand had brought her breast into existence at the moment of contact. Had created this mound of soft flesh with its budding tip, that was hardening now under her fingers. 

She turned and looked about her. The hotel room was completely anonymous. The faded prints on the walls, the tired chiffon of the curtains, the colourless bedspread. It contained nothing of her. No longer surrounded by her own furniture, and belongings she was suddenly adrift. Free from the pressure of a past history the woman in the mirror might have been anyone at all. She could be a saint, a dancer, even a whore from the Tuileries and the room would not contradict her. The room would have no opinion at all. She had not felt this sense of freedom in her short adult life. No one knew she was here. No one knew who or what she was. As she stood gazing at her reflection, she was not sure that she knew either.

The breast seemed to grow fuller under her fingers. The nipple showed itself proudly through the soft chemise. Now she watched the hand as if it were no longer hers but the hand of a lover. Saw him slip the thin strap from her shoulder so that the breast emerged, full and round. Half dressed like this the image in the mirror seemed somehow more shocking than if she had been wearing nothing at all. A laugh escaped her lips. Standing alone with a breast exposed in this tiny room in a foreign capital she felt reckless and alive

Lena understood that in many things she was still an innocent. She had never seen a man's penis - even her husband's. She had felt it as he pushed into her, but even this left her no clear picture of what it might be like. Her acquaintance with her husband's member was always brief. So much so that for the early weeks of her married life the first nudgings of its rounded head were immediately followed by the sensation of warm liquid spilling over her thighs. She lost her virginity by slow degrees, surrendering a little more on each of his weekly visits to her bed until one night to her great surprise -- and indeed to his -- the cock finally found what it had been seeking and she felt herself enclose him for the first time.

Even this did not herald the step forward in their life together she had imagined. For some weeks after he did not visit her bed. It was as if in penetrating her he felt his job was done. Two months had passed before he appeared again at her bedroom door. He seemed genuinely surprised that his conquest of her had not produced the expected pregnancy.

Cupping her breast in one hand she let the other slide over the flat plane of her stomach to the space between her legs. Alone in her bed she had allowed herself to explore this place. Protected by the shuttering dark her fingers had found the soft nub where the lips parted. She learned that by pressing her thighs together and stroking this precious piece of her flesh she could bring herself to experience the little death she had read about. In the heavily carpeted room she had heard the little whimpering cry that emerged from her throat and at once choked it back guiltily lest anyone should hear -- even though her husband lay far away in his own bed on the other side of the house.

Outside the sun emerged and poured through the tall window from the street, softened by the lace curtains but still filling the tiny room and driving out the shadows. In another moment Lena had slipped the chemise over her head and stepped out of her underskirt. She faced her own nakedness in the mirror. The light fell on her pale skin so that even the tiny blemish on her shoulder stood out clearly. Nothing of her was hidden. The space around her seemed to echo with possibilities.

Now she took a breast in each hand, and offered them to her image in the glass. She let her fingers circle the nipples and felt darts of electricity spread through her. Saw the colour rise in her cheeks. She thought of her husband. How shocked he would be to see her now. She pictured the confusion on his face if he were to walk into the room and find her naked. How much worse then for him to discover that the body he had claimed as his was not just a receptacle for his seed but had desires of its own. It was she discovered a surprise to her.

Daylight changed things. Alone in her bed in the dark she could pretend that what she felt had been an aberration that had no place in the waking world, something hidden and forbidden for which she would be rightly punished if she was caught. She found she could keep these things separate, the sense of herself as a respectable woman and the shapeless longings that came to her while the house slept. 

Without her noticing one had had slipped lower between her legs. Her skin felt hot to the touch. Searching her swollen flesh she felt the tip of one finger slip between her lips to find the moistness she had felt growing in her since she had closed the door of her private sanctuary.

Her first instinct was to look away. To slip between the sheets and close her eyes until the moment of pleasure claimed her. She had already reached the bed and pulled back the covers when she stopped. Why should she hide? What could happen to her? Surely this was something she had a right to see? Slowly she returned to the mirror.

She watched with a growing sense of excitement as her hand returned to the moist warmth of her parting lips. Let the other rise to her nipple. Watched as her fingers began to move.

In this narrow room the sensations flowing through her seemed magnified. Every nerve ending had been tuned to a new pitch so that soon she was trembling like a violin voicing some inner melody. She was not sure her legs would support her. The intensity of her feelings frightened her. It was as if her whole body had been lying in wait, unregarded, for just this moment. At the deliberate touch all rational thought and feeling were driven out; desire claimed her. It was almost more than she could bear. 

She heard the breathing of the woman in the mirror grow tight and shallow. Watched as a slow bloom of moisture appeared on her skin. She saw her throat become reddened and blotched as the blood obeyed its own internal summons. And then as she drew closer a new miracle appeared in the glass. The face in the mirror was hers and not hers. It acquired weight and gravity. As she forced herself to watch the familiar features were claimed by a different Lena, a Lena whose primal ancestry was visible in the hunger and urgency of her desire. She watched her lids grow heavier, her mouth open. Saw her head flung back -

The sound of her release was not the bleat of young lamb she had smothered in her pillow at home. Facing the image of her own sexuality here in the sunlit room she cried out as if a wound had opened in her, a wound that even as she sank exhausted to the floor she knew she might not survive.



The Descent Ch. 03



With Monday morning came a sobering realization. He had betrayed his marriage vows. He had done so, gleefully, at the first real hint of temptation that he had ever encountered. He had leapt at the opportunity -- worse still, he was actively plotting how to continue that betrayal. He had deceived his wife, he had not confessed, he had no intention of confessing. Or of stopping. 

And it was not just physical. "Love you," his wife had said, kissing him as she left the car, and he had responded to her, kissing her back, reaffirming his love. His love. How many times had they repeated those words, until they had become routine, perhaps meaningless. Kak loobloo ya vac. How much I love you. He had fallen in love with Karina. It had happened out on the deck, before he had seen her murals, before he had tasted her desire, and possibly her shit. All that had happened later on had just cemented that emotion. Well, wasn't that how he and his wife had started -- that mixer where they had staggered back to his room, more than a little drunk? Wasn't their whole life together the reverberation of that first passionate encounter? His head buried in her groin, his cock plunged into her mouth, dress pulled up, pants pulled down, they had still been wearing their shoes when they woke up the next morning, they had still been facing opposite directions in his little bed. God! He had never had a moment like that -- until Friday night.

Remorse was replaced with something else, and he felt himself stiffening. Not good. The day was surprisingly warm, and he was running in summer mode -- just shoes, sock, and jogging shorts, light nylon ones, so sheer that they were no more than a mild sunscreen. They gave him an all around tan, no tan line to speak of, just like a porn star. His wife teased him about it, about his big brown cock, but he could tell she liked it. Of course, back in the woods, he took off the shorts altogether sometimes. Today, he decided, was going to be one of those days. He would go for a very long run. He would get very tired. He would not, would not, run in the neighbourhood where he might encounter Karina. And he most definitely was not going onto her street. Not for a long time. He must have been out of his mind to even consider her suggestion. 

But, when he came back to the entrance to his development, there she was, jogging up the road from the other direction. She was also attired in summer mode -- sports bra and hip huggers. No matter what she had said about not being in shape, she looked amazing -- her belly was a grid of muscle, her limbs smooth and strong. She ran with an effortless grace. She stopped as she came up to him, still breathing a bit heavily, her breasts bobbing up and down. He could not take his eyes off of them.

"Good morning," he ventured.

She glanced at her watch. "It is, perhaps, good afternoon."

"How are you?"

"I am very well. And you?"

"Restless." He blurted it out.

"Ah," she smiled, "it is unfortunate for you that your son interrupted. Well, perhaps, some other time."

"Perhaps." He could not conceal his disappointment. God, he was making a fool of himself!

"You are, perhaps, impatient?" He blushed. "I will make you, how would you say it, a proposal?"

"A proposition," he suggested.

"Perhaps that is the word. What is the distinction?"

"A proposal is more honourable. You propose marriage. You proposition a roll in the hay."

"A roll in the hay? Oh, a fuck?" He nodded, flushing. "Well, perhaps, then, this is more of a proposition. We will race to the top of the hill. Not the very top," she hastened to add. That was more than a thousand feet up. "Just up to the intersection for my street."

"And?"

"If you can defeat me, I will be at your disposal."

"My disposal?"

"Yes. You may do anything you wish."

"Sexual?" He had to ask.

"Of course, sexual. What do you think we are talking about?"

"And if I do not defeat you?"

"Our fortunes will be reversed. It is it a bargain?"

"A deal."

"A deal, then. Do you agree?"

"Of course."

"Good." And she went dashing up the entrance road. For a while he thought that he was going to catch her. He actually got to the point where, leaping, he might have been able to catch an ankle, make the touchdown saving tackle. But she escaped him. In the end, she was at the intersection for at least twenty seconds before he pulled up beside her, exhausted and defeated.

"You have lost," she pointed out.

"Yes."

"You are my slave for the remainder of the day."

"I have to be home by three. When Billy gets off the bus."

"I will keep that in mind. Until then, you must honour our agreement."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Karina."

She slapped him, not on the cheeks, but on the groin. The flimsy nylon offered no protection from the sting of her palm. "Yes, mistress," she growled.

"Yes, mistress," he echoed.

"That is better. Now, come, we have much to do." She ran down the street, rapidly, and he trailed after her. She sprinted down her driveway, even less cautiously that Billy had, and he picked his way down through the leaves and acorns.

"Doesn't anyone ever sweep this?" he grumbled.

"Ah, what a good idea. If we have time, that will be one of your duties."

"You want me to do housework?" That provoked another slap.

"You will do exactly what I tell you. Without question. That is your forfeit. Believe me," she added, "sweeping leaves is nothing compared to what will be required of you."

They entered the house. "Cleanse yourself," she said. "Use that bathroom." She gestured to the one off of the kitchen. "Purge yourself, also."

"Purge myself?"

"Your bladder. Your bowels. Here." She handed him a tube. "Wash with this."

He looked at it. Depilatory cream. "Here," she said, "turn around." She was rubbing it over his back. "You will use it on the rest of your body. Make sure you clean up the shower."

"How am I going to explain this to my wife?" He blurted it out.

"Remember what I said about the yacht? You will have to deal with that when the time comes. Perhaps she will prefer you without hair. Rub it on before you begin to purge yourself," she added. "That will give it sufficient time to take effect."

"Enema?"

"What?"

He had read about enemas when he had been doing his research. "Do I need to use an enema?"

"You must learn how to prepare yourself," she said. "It is part of your training."

"Training?"

She frowned. For the second time, she appeared agitated. "You must be ready to please my husband, when he returns. If you give him pleasure, he will reward me for my actions."

"And if I do not."

"I will be punished." The fear in her eyes was real.

"Karina, what is your husband like? Does he abuse you?"

She paused. "He disciplines me."

"Do you love him?"

"I serve him."

"By betraying him?" He could not help it. His own betrayal was weighing on him too heavily.

He was sure that she was going to slap him, maybe even kick him, but she only took a deep breath, and sighed. "Do you read the Bible?"

"The Bible?" He was startled. "Not much. But I listen to it, in church. I have had it read to me, many times."

"The parable of the talents? The good and faithful servant? My husband does not expect me to waste my talents. He expects me to employ them to serve his pleasure."

"And your own?"

"Of course my own. My God, that is the game we play, he and I. I may please myself. I must please him."

"And if you fail?"

"He will find another. There are many pretty girls in Moldavia."

"And what will happen to you?" She did not answer. "My God, Karina, what will happen to you?" She turned her face away, and he grabbed in, turned her chin. "What will happen?"

"Whatever," she said at last, "happened to the ones who came before me."

"My God!" He sat down, sweaty as he was, on one of the white leather couches. "Karina, you don't have to do this. You can go to the police."

"The police," she snorted. "They will deport me."

"In your own country?"

"Obviously," she said, "you know nothing about my country. My husband is very powerful there."

"How long can this go on?"

"Long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"Tom," she was pleading now, "if you do not do as I say, if you do not follow my instructions precisely, it will not go on longer than a month. Do you understand? You will be punished, also, if you fail to please him."

"I don't want any part of this." He got up, started towards the door.

"Tom, it is too late. You made your decision Friday night. There is no escaping now." The only way out is through the chimney. He repeated that, aloud, and she just nodded. "Do not be so dejected." She smiled. "I will train you. You will please him. Everything will be okay. I would not have chosen you, if I did not think it would be so."

"Okay." He was beginning to calm down.

"Go. Prepare yourself as I have instructed. Then we will begin."

"Lunch?" 

"It will be better to have an empty stomach. You will see."

Everywhere. She had told him to use the depilatory cream everywhere, but he was assuming that did not include the hair on this head. What there was of it. It was starting thin a bit, more than a bit, on its own. Hair descent. That's what his wife had teased him about when he had started to shave less often. The hair migrating from the top of his head down to his chin. All of him had been getting more hairy, little by little, over the years. Cream on his chest, underarms, arms, wrists, ankles, calves, thighs, his butt, his balls, his stomach, his groin. It tingled, no, more than tingled, it burned, and he wondered if he was allergic, if he was going to swell up into one massive pustule. The thought, literally, scared the shit out of him. So much for purging. But then he thought of what might happen to him next, and he strained to empty himself even more. Into the shower, at last, and the hair washed off of him in great gobs. He was scooping it out of the drain for five minutes.

The door opened. "Are you in difficulty?" It was Karina. She had, it appeared, showered. Her hair was still wet. She was naked, except that her groin was covered with a strapon. She was sporting a huge purple penis. Well, big enough. Bigger, he thought ruefully, than he was, by at least half an inch. Thicker, too. The head flared out in an exaggerated circumcision effect, then the shaft narrowed sharply for a while, before it became very wide. 

"It is designed," she said, "not to fall out accidentally. Come, let us begin."

If there had ever been any doubt what was about to happen to him, it was gone now. It was obvious that huge purple thing was headed up his butt. And soon.

"You are trembling."

"I'm okay. Just a bit chilly."

"Do you require more opportunity to purge?"

I'm going to puke ,he thought. I'm going to lose my breakfast because I am so terrified. "I'll be okay." 

"Yes." She kissed him, soothed him. "You will be okay. You will even enjoy it. Do you trust me?"

"Should I?"

She became very serious. "You must trust me now. If your body resists, it will be very painful."

"The inner sphincter ..."

"Yes. You have been doing reading?" He nodded. "You must train yourself to accept this pleasure. We are starting out with something very small."

"That?" He stared at the huge purple dildo. "That is small?"

"Ah, my friend, you will see. Come." She led him down the hall, past the living room, past the bathroom with the amazing murals. The next room should have been a bedroom, but it was not. Instead it looked like a cross between a doctor's examination room and a gymnasium. 

"What is this?" He was trying to make sense of the furniture, or equipment, or whatever it was, crowded into the room.

"Ah, my friend, this is our recreation room. You will see. Now, I will give you a choice, to begin. Do you prefer to see me?"

"How could I not prefer to see you?"

"Ah, you are very gallant. Very well then. We will begin over here." She pointed to what looked like an examination table. "Lie down upon it, on your back. No, further forward, so that your hips are just at the edge. Draw your legs back on either side." He was having trouble staying on the table in that position. He was in danger of sliding off onto the floor, right onto his unprotected butt and balls. She was giggling at his incompetence. 

"Come," she said, walking behind him, "give me your hands." She didn't give him much choice. She grabbed his wrists from behind him, pulled them back roughly. They were jammed against something hard and cold, and he heard two clicks. 

"What the fuck?" Too late, he thought to struggle, to protest. But his hands were locked behind him.

"You will train in bondage. It is likely that my husband will require this of you, at times, and you must be ready for it." She saw him squirming to escape. "You will injure yourself doing that. Here." She took some gauze pads out of a drawer and stuffed them into the space between his wrists and the restraints. "That should prevent you from harming yourself with your foolishness."

"At times?" He was mulling over what she had said. "Your husband may require bondage, at times?"

"Yes, at times he prefers it."

"At times. Other times, no?"

"Other times, possibly, not. It will depend how well you please him."

"Karina, how long will this go on?"

"Until he tires of you. Or me. Or both," she sighed.

"What happens then?"

"Better not to worry. Come, let us begin."

"Karina." He was filled with panic. "Karina, I can't do this!"

"You no longer have a choice. I have no choice but to train you. You have no other choice but to be trained." He did not protest as she slid a soft smooth belt around his left foot, sliding it up behind his knee. The same on the right. It was only as those belts tightened behind him that he complained, and by then it was much too late. They had forced his knees up to his shoulders, spread apart so the he was completely exposed.

"Are you quite comfortable?" she asked.

"Not at all."

"Good. Keep in mind, that you are helpless to protect yourself. You are," she smiled, "at my mercy." She went over to a cabinet on the other side of the room, back behind his head again.

"What are you doing?"

"My husband will want to monitor your progress in training."

"You are recording this?"

"Of course. Do you want to see?" There was a small LCD monitor in front of him, up above his head, like the ones in the dentist's office. It flickered on, and he saw himself. She fiddled with the remote, and the picture zoomed in on his balls and asshole. Interesting. He had never seen his body from that perspective. Something dark flashed across the screen. He heard a sharp slapping sound. He jerked, then he felt his groin exploding in pain. He had been so intent on the image on the monitor that he had never noticed the whisk as it descended.

"What the fuck?" His protest was cut off by another slap against his balls.

"It is to prepare you." The whisk caressed him this time, then slapped again. It was not as painful now. He liked that sharp little bite, and smack as it pressed into him, the afterglow at the base of his balls. He was waiting for the next slap, almost anticipating it. Another time, and he was sporting an erection. Another time, below his balls this time, right on his asshole, and he was beginning to dribble.

"Enough," she said. She didn't have to ask him if he had enjoyed it. She picked up a tube from the table, squeezed it onto a finger, and ran that finger around the swollen ring of flesh behind his balls. Whatever it was seemed cold and sticky. "Lubricant," she told him. "You will hope that my husband will be so kind." She smeared some over the dildo. She leaned forward and began to press it into him.

"Aren't you supposed to use a finger first?" That was what he had read on the internet. He had even tried that himself, working his finger in gingerly, feeling how the muscular tube grabbed at it. 

That provoked a laugh. "My friend, do you think that anyone is going to take the time to prepare you gently? Be grateful that I am so gentle this first time." She pressed hard, and he gave a little yelp. She stood up.

"Tom, my friend. You must be brave. Believe me, this will not harm you."

"Hurt me?"

"There may be some pain. My friend, we are runners, you and I. We know that pain can lead to pleasure, can it not? And this little pain, this brief discomfort, can lead to very considerable pleasure. Have you not investigated that it is so?" He nodded. "Then trust me. It will hurt less, or not at all, if you can ease your mind. Can you do that for me, my friend?"

"I think so." 

"Good. Close your eyes. It may be easier if you just feel what is about to happen."

He closed his eyes, almost -- he peeked, and saw her moving in position again, carefully aiming the dildo with one hand. He could feel the cold blunt tip of it, just pressing lightly against the outer ring of his anus. It was a pleasant feeling, and it got better as he opened to her a little more. Because he was peeking, he was not completely surprised when her other hand slapped hard against his balls -- stinging, then crushing, knocking the breath out of him. In the midst of that shock, he felt the dildo plunging through the inner sphincter, feeling like it was tearing it apart. Then the thick head was through, it was sliding up his bowels, and he had contracted around the slimmer shaft, trapping it.

"Oh my!" The monitor confirmed that half of the dildo had vanished within him. She moved it in and out a little -- out to the point where the thick head jammed against his inner ring, in to the point where the base widened so much that it was stretching him once more. Between those points there was no pain -- just -- what? He liked it when his wife grabbed him behind the balls. This was like that, only better. She began to move more forcefully.

"Oh my God. I'm getting fucked." It was such a stupid thing to say. He had often wondered what it felt like, on the other side. He had wondered what his wife was feeling as he pressed into her as deep and hard as he could, as he tried to split her apart. Often, she just lay there with her eyes closed -- was it possible she wasn't feeling anything? Now he knew what it was like to have a penis -- albeit an artificial one -- sliding within him. It was -- nice. It was getting nicer all the time. There was a place inside him, back behind his balls, that was beginning to glow with pleasure. 

"You like?" she asked. She started to push in a little harder. He could feel that broad tip pressing against a second point of resistance. She must have sensed it also -- she stopped pressing, and slapped his balls again, not so hard this time. He gasped. The glow inside him was starting to tingle. "Again?" 

"Please."

She slapped again, harder this time. "Too hard?"

It had hurt him, but now everything was on fire. She was starting to push a little harder again. The tip was starting to worm its way into the resistance, and the broader base was stretching him. But it was okay. It was more than okay.

Another slap. This one caught one of his testicles head on, and he yelped with pain.

"Sorry," she said. She leaned over onto the table, pressing her glorious bare breasts into him, still fucking him. How strange that was, to feel her body lying on his, to feel her flesh, or an extension of it, moving inside of him. She reached up as far as she could, not quite as far as his mouth, and kissed him. "Are you ready?"

For what? "Yes," he said, not daring to ask.

She stood back up, and pressed harder. Something within him parted, and he felt that blunt tip forcing its way up into a narrow channel. The plush fabric of the strapon was brushing him. The dildo had vanished completely within his bowels. She stopped moving.




The Descent Ch. 03



I knew Green Eyes was done. His beautiful cock was getting small and I could see the fatigue on his face. Bartender was a different story but he also needed some "recharge time" (as my husband calls it) so I stooped down to get my clothes. I started to dress and I was aware both of them were watching me. I was in charge of this situation. I smiled at the thought. At the start of the night, I was terrified to be here and now I was becoming a vixen of sorts.

I looked at them, "I am gonna find my girlfriends, maybe I will see you later." With that I turned and walked back into the hall. Where was I to look? 

I started walking back toward the room where I left Jen and Laura—hopefully they would still be there. I smiled as I felt cum running down my legs out of my ass. Whatever shame I had or whatever I hung onto was now gone. The knowledge that I had been assfucked by two great men gave me a dirty satisfaction. A satisfaction that I wanted to keep and to explore more. I wasn't just a scared girl feeling unsatisfied in bed, now I was a woman needing sexual fulfillment. My boobs were feeling so sensitive pressed in my bra and my body felt a tinge of fatigue from my orgasms thus far. But my curiosity and hunger dominated everything else. I wanted to see how far I would go.

I got to the door and opened it. There was Laura was kneeling over the bed licking Jen from behind while Jen focused her attention on a cute guy's cock in front of her. Laura's perfect ass bobbed in front of me as she moaned and licked Jen's spread ass cheeks. I looked at it and felt my tummy start to warm and goosebumps sprung up. How could she have a body like this? 

"Oh shit...just like that!" Jen's said loudly holding the guy's cock in her hand. She jerked it quickly and the guy pushed her head back toward it. She sucked his dick greedily, jerking it at the same time.

"Fuck..." The guy said holding her head with both hands.

Laura's head went back and forth as she worked on Jen from behind. I watched as Jen let go of the cock slid around for the guy to fuck her. She lay on her back and he slid into her wet pussy easily. He wasted no time and started to fuck her. Her great tits bounced as she moaned.

I watched the guy thrusting her...he held her hips and as she grabbed his ass he was able to thrust her deep and hard. I looked at Laura and she turned toward me. She eyed up and down my body. What the hell was I doing with those guys? Why did I leave her here? I walked toward her, the bed shaking as the guy fucked Jen vigorously. I realized that's what I wanted: to fuck Laura like a man would. I wanted her to feel what I felt a few minutes before.

I touched her cheek, looked into her eyes and said, "Did you miss me?"

"Where did you go?" Laura asked with a smile?

I didn't reply at first but looked around the small room thoughtfully.

"Fuck!" Jen yelled as she sat up on the guy's lap, bouncing on his cock firmly. He clenched her ass cheeks and I could see her asshole—the one that Laura and I had both licked. 

I looked back and Laura who was watching Jen fuck. I saw on the floor her purse and then almost laughed when I saw a black thing bulging out of it. "Is that a...?" I started.

"Um yeah...a dildo." Laura said. "I bought it...sort of on a whim. You can strap it on."

That was all I needed to hear. I snatched it from her purse. The cock was maybe 8 inches, black, straight, proportionate with a nice even thickness. It had a belt and some snaps. I looked back at Laura and began undressing. Laura's mouth was on my boobs as soon as I had my blouse off. She sucked at them—pulling them out of my bra from the top. She bit my nipples and moaned. 

"Oh," I said softly stroking her hair and unsnapping the bra. Her mouth devoured my tits and all I could do was stand there and feel my pussy start to moisten. She rubbed my tits and sucked.

I bumbled with the zipper on my skirt. Why the hell did I even wear clothes? It slid down my legs and Laura yanked it down then did the same with my panties. My boob popped from her mouth and she looked at her hands. "You slut..." She said lustfully, "Fucking cum all over you."

I smiled at her and saw Jen flip over to her tummy and the guy started to fuck her from behind. He was a machine—his body slapped against hers and she focused on it with her mouth open and eyes closed.

"Why don't you turn around and kiss her?" I said with a smile grabbing the dildo.

Laura looked at the dildo then turned around obediently. She grabbed Jen's face and stuck her tongue into Jen's open mouth. I slid the dildo on and snapped it tight. I looked down at the 8 inch cock dangling from my crotch. I walked over to Laura's perfectly symmetrical ass and slid my hands over it. I felt under for her pussy. She was damp, but not enough.

I fell to my knees and started to lick her. I found her clit and touched it gently while licking inside her pussy. She arched her back and trembled as I licked her. I could hear Jen still being fucked and I wondered how this guy could do it. He would be useful to all of us. 

I slipped a finger in Laura and I knew she was wet. I stood up and positioned the cock toward her pussy. I wasn't sure how to make it work...after all I didn't actually have a dick. She helped me by backing toward and against the cock head. It slid into her about halfway then stopped. She moaned and looked back at me. Jen looked at me as well. Her tits wobbled as she was fucked.

"Shit, I don't want to cum yet," The guy said pulling his wet throbbing cock from her. He was sweating and looking at me as well.

I grabbed Laura's perfect ass and pushed my hips forward. It went in further and she took a deep breath. "Deeper..." she said.

I pushed it further and further until it was 8 inches into her. The warmth of her as cheeks against my skin drove me wild. I pulled back until the dildo was nearly out then pumped again. I found the motion a little unnatural and I moved my hips in a circle to find a better angle. She moaned and Jen turned around so her legs were spread in front of Laura. She grabbed the guy's cock dangling over her head and sucked it. Laura immediately dove into Jen's pussy. 

I rocked back then plunged into Laura's pussy. Since her ass was so high I found the angle perfect. I began to thrust faster and in a good rhythm. She pressed against me as I pushed and I knew I had a good pace. Jen was moaning and sucking the guy's cock and Laura's head bobbed over Jen's pussy. My own pussy was dripping as I fucked Laura from behind. I looked down at her spread ass and saw her brown little asshole. It was perfect. Her ass had been calling my name for months and now it was here. I wanted it. I sucked on my fingers and fucked her pussy, her ass cheeks slapping against me the whole time. 

Jen crawled away from Laura's mouth and still holding the guy's throbbing dick in her hand. She watched me thrust her. Then she watched as I slid my fingers from my mouth and firmly against Laura's perfect asshole. It resisted, but I pushed harder and they slid into her. 

"Ahhh..." Laura said looking back. I fucked her harder, knowing she loved it. 

Jen pulled the guy's cock and he shuffled forward until it was in front of Laura's mouth. Laura took it in and he positioned himself so she could suck it without her hands. As soon as Laura reached the end of the dildo, her mouth was filled with cock and she rocked back to the dildo until the dick was just against her lips. I moaned watching it. I was shaking with excitement. I fucked her hard with the dildo and her asshole as fast as I could with my fingers. I saw she was starting to cum so I fucked and moaned loudly. 

"Uh..uh...shit...I'm cumming...agh," The guy jammed his dick in her mouth and I knew he started cumming too. His hands clenched in her hair and I saw his balls shift. He breathed loudly and cum spewed out of her mouth and on the bed. She swallowed and moaned and cum dripped everywhere. 

My two fingers were in her ass as far as I could get them and she stopped rocking as she sucked the cum off the guy's cock. It popped from her mouth and she looked at me with a euphoric lust in her face. Sweat ran down her back and I saw cum on her face and chin. 

I pulled the cock from her pussy and kept my fingers in her ass. Jen slid over and grabbed Laura's asscheeks. She looked up at me and smiled, "Fuck her ass with that thing School Teacher."

"Oh shit that's too big," Laura said breathlessly.

"Shut up," I said looking at her. Something in me snapped. "I want to fuck your ass. I have wanted to fuck it since I first saw it."

"But...that black cock...it's so big," Laura said in a whimper.

I realized that she was at my will. I fingered her ass some more. Jen looked up at me with a look I was not expecting, but one that drove me crazy: like I was the authority. If I yelled at them, they responded. The guy slid back on the bed—his face was gaunt with fatigue. He was gonna get a show. "You..." I said glaring at him. "You better get that cock hard again. This cock," I grabbed the dildo and let it slap against Laura's asscheek, "...is gonna work until you can cum for me. This ass needs cum. Do you understand me?"

"But..."

"Shut up and say yes or no mistress."

He looked down sheepishly. "Yes mistress."

"Good," I said. My boobs were firm and perky from excitement. My pussy was soaking. 

I pulled my fingers from Laura's ass and stuck them in Jen's mouth. She sucked them obediently as I watch Laura's perfect asshole twitch and gap slightly. I grabbed the dildo and pressed it against the hole. "Now this is gonna hurt, but Jen is gonna rub your clit and that will help."

"But..."

"Fuck Laura! Your ass belongs to me and I am going to fuck it as I see fit. When you cum you are gonna beg me for more and this guy is gonna give it to you. Do you understand?" Who was I?

"Yes mistress,"

I jammed the head of the dildo in her asshole and it stretched as it took it. I pulled my finger's from Jen's mouth, grabbed the perfect ass cheeks in front of me and spread them. Jen licked her hand then started rubbing Laura's pussy and clit. I pushed the cock in further, depending on the wetness remaining from Laura's pussy.

"Ow..." she muttered.

"Shhh..." I said pushing it further.

"I can't do it..."

"Listen to me. Your ass is made to be fucked. Made for it. Just close your eyes and give in." I almost yelled at her. I wanted to see her ass riding this cock and I wanted her to cum. I wanted her screaming from it. I slapped her ass to grab it tighter and jammed the cock in further. It was almost all the way in.

"That's it baby," Jen said rubbing Laura's now wet pussy. "That's it."

I thrust again and the full didlo went in her ass. Her ass was speared on my fake black cock and she groaned from it. I waited for her to adjust. "It's all in there." I said, "Do you like this cock in your ass?"

She swallowed, "All of it? It feels so big so..."

I pulled back and it started sliding out. 

"Oh shit!" Laura yelled.

I pulled it until the tip of the penis was being clenched by Laura's asshole and I pushed it in again all the way.

"Fuck, fuck..." Laura said. Jen rubbed her pussy and held her hand up to me. It was drenched in Laura's juice.

I pulled it back again. 

"Oh fuck! I can't...I can't..."

I pushed it back all the way until couldn't see the dildo. 

"Ahhh!" Her voice was hoarse. "Oh fuck...do that again."

I slapped her ass and she shrieked then pulled it until she locked on the tip again. Then I thrust in firmly. She shook as she took it and looked back at me. Her face was sweaty and her eyes were half open with pleasure and lust. "Fuck...I..."

I pulled back and pumped her again. She let out a squeal and I started to pump her evenly and slowly. I was shaking with excitement. I knew a puddle was forming under me as I pumped and gripped her ass. She clenched the bedding with her hands and took the dick each time with squeals and moans. I started to fuck her faster and she opened her mouth and started groaning.

"Ah...fuck....ah...ow...ah...shit..." 

I wasn't sure how hard to push until she looked back at me. Her eyes were watering and her mouth hung open. Her eyes rolled back as I plunged in and pulled out again and again. "Harder...fuck my ass harder...fuck me Heidi...fuck me...."

I bit my lip with pleasure and fucked her faster. Each time the full dildo was in she screamed and as I pulled it out she shook. She yelled profanity and groaned as her body adjusted then squirmed as an orgasm took her. She held the bedspread in fists and cried out, "Oh Heidi....my ass....oh shit!"

I grabbed Jen's hair and pulled until she looked at me. "Get on your knees and your ass in the air. You're next."

"But mistress I..."

I yanked the cock from Laura's twitching ass and slapped it against Jen's face. 

"Ow shit..." Laura yelled.

"Sorry baby," I said pushing it back in easily. "Jen isn't doing as she is told."

"Jen...do it...oh shit..." Laura said as her body arched at another orgasm. She grabbed at one of her boobs and shook. She lurched against the cock and started to fuck it with her ass as I held it still. I smiled looking down on Laura pushing back and rocking forward on the dick all on her own. She loved it.

I looked at the guy. His cock stuck straight up with both of his hands stroking it. He looked at me sheepishly. "Good...you are ready, get over here."

I glared back at Jen. She climbed onto the bed, bent over and waited. The guy came next to me with his dick sticking out. I pulled the dildo from Laura's perfect ass. She shuddered and groaned. "Now...you fuck her ass until it is full...do you understand?"

I stepped aside and he slipped his dick in her gaping asshole. Her ass gripped it and smiled at the shift inside her. "Oh...that's good..."

He grabbed her hips and started pumping her. I got on my knees beside her ass and watched. "Deeper." I said, not satisfied. I could still see half an inch of his cock that could go in. "Deeper and harder."

"Yes..." Laura said. I saw her arched body and her perfect round ass and I knew she couldn't move. She was in the state I was in not long ago. Small orgasms came in waves now, going through her body again and again. 

He thrust deep and he groaned as I could see that Laura clenched his dick. He shifted his hands and drove into her deeper and deeper. His balls flapped against her and she slid her ass higher and he positioned himself above her. His cock jamming straight in at its length then pulling out. "Oh god...that's perfect..." he said.

"Yes..." I said. His shaft was exposed as he pulled back and I grabbed it with my hand. I yanked his dick out and thrust it in my mouth. The bitterness of her ass drove me wild. I sucked it firmly with my tongue wrapped around it. I pulled it from my mouth and licked his balls then helped stick it back in her ass. 

"Oh shit...it feels so wet...hard and good..." she muttered. Her body was all goosebumps and her breasts were taunt with excitement. 

I yanked his cock out and sucked it again. I stuck my fingers in her ass to keep it gaping and licked his dick as thoroughly as I could. He groaned and looked at me. I knew he couldn't keep this up. I pushed his cock up against his tummy, took his balls in my mouth and looked up at him lustfully. I hope he knew how lucky he was.

I held his cock in one hand, at the base sucked it then looked back at him. "Wait," I said as it slipped from my mouth—salvia stretching from it to my chin. White was forming over the tip of his cock and I licked it off my lips. I stuck my tongue out as far as he could so he could see it. Then I turned and jammed it into Laura's asshole.

"What the...oh shit...OH SHIT..." She came again. Her face was covered with sweat and her eyes were teary.

I fucked her asshole with my tongue. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and her ass clenched around my tongue. I was shaking with excitement and I thrust in an licked as deeply as I could. After a moment of this, I pulled it out and jammed his cock in her ass forcefully. I rubbed her swollen, red clit then said, "Finish her off and cum."

"Yes, mistress," he said. 

I smiled.

He jammed his cock in as far as it would go, kept it in deep, positioned himself above her so he could plunge down and started to fuck her. I stared as his round, shaved balls slapped against her with each deep thrust and Laura threw her head back and yelled, "Oh..OH...ah...fuck me, fuck me..."

It took only a few seconds of frantic deep thrusting and Laura's cumming body when the guy said, "I am cumming...oh my...holy shit...holy shit...oh....fuck...fuck..."

His dick came up and it was covered in white cum then plunged in again at the sound of wet slapping. His shaft was white and covered in translucent cum, more coming out with each plunge. His hands clenched her ass cheeks and they were going red with effort as he pumped. He cursed and jerked as all the contents of his balls spilt into her perfect ass.

"That's...so nice...oh my god...that's so...warm...fuck...fuck Heidi...you bitch...that's so...perfect...oh..." she muttered as her body shook and she was hit with more long and soft orgasms. I smiled...I knew that feeling and now she had it.

"That's a good boy," I said as he slowed down then stopped. He pulled his cock out carefully. It was covered in cum and cum spilled out of her gaping ass as it began to close. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked it. My pussy throbbed and I cursed in my head that I couldn't touch myself because of the dildo. I licked his cock clean while he watched me. Then I licked Laura's ass. I wanted to lick it out, but then I remembered it running out of my ass. She needed that too. She was my dirty slut now. I looked back at the guy and asked, "How old are you?"

"18," he said breathlessly.

I eyed him carefully. "Looks like I have been giving my students the wrong extra credit assignments." I eyed his cock. This was the real me.

I looked at Jen waiting with her ass still in the air. She looked at me with wide eyes. Earlier in the night she was the waitress with all the control and now she was here waiting for me to fuck her ass. She was mine too.

I stood up and walked over to her. Laura fell to her side in a euphoric state with her eyes half open. Cum ran out her ass and over her legs. There was movement behind me and I looked back to see Bartender. He had his cock out of his jeans and he looked at me, Laura then Jen. "Good," I said. "You are right on time."



The Descent Ch. 03



Paris seemed to be working on Lena in ways that she could not understand. Perhaps it was the moment in front of the mirror in her room. Perhaps it had begun earlier as she walked the streets. But her senses seemed permanently heightened so that she was acutely conscious of the colours and shapes of things, as if she was seeing them for the first time. She stood for a long moment outside a shop selling antique remnants and stared at the copper glow of a kettle as if the burnished warmth that emanated from its surface was the product of some rare metal entirely new to the world. She became aware that the boundary between her outer and inner selves had dissolved. It was as if she no longer stopped at her skin so that the fabric of the city itself became part of her.

More surprising still was that this heightened sensitivity had a physical aspect. She found herself permanently on the edge of arousal. She could not decide if the clarity of her feelings was the consequence of this arousal or if the arousal itself brought about her heightened perception. Either way she found that each exploratory sortie into the unfamiliar streets had a more than geographical aspect - it seemed at the same time a journey into the unknown territory of herself.

On the first day she lacked the courage to dine alone in public. Instead she bought cheese and a small fragrant loaf from the tiny boulangerie on the corner of the Rue Chevert and carried them up to her room. She had reached the landing and was already fitting the key to her lock when she was stopped by a sound from behind the door opposite. 

It was like the cry of a wounded animal. She stood quietly on the landing and listened. At first she heard nothing. Slowly she became aware of a low keening which rose in intensity and then died away. In the silence that followed she turned back to her own room only to find herself recalled by a second cry even louder than the first.

Lena took a step closer to the door and put her ear to the wood panelling. She could hear a woman's voice. She seemed frightened.

"Please," she was saying, "Please --." The same thing. Over and over.

And then again the cry of pain. Lena felt a chill run through her. This time the cry did not stop. It went on, rising in intensity until she felt sure she could only be listening to the sound of a violent assault or perhaps even an attempt on the poor woman's life. Powerless to intervene - who knows what madman was at work behind the door - she rushed down in search of help.

The Proprietor was behind the tiny reception desk hunched over a column of figures.

"Quickly - you must call the police."

"Mademoiselle?"

"Something dreadful is happening upstairs," Lena said.

The man seemed not to have understood because instead of hurrying out to find a gendarme he was looking quizzically at his guest.

"Upstairs," Lena said again. "The room opposite mine. Someone is being hurt."

"I don't think so, mademoiselle."

"It's true -- we must get help."

But the Proprietor merely shook his head and returned to his column of figures.

Lena was at a loss. She could no more bring herself to ignore the woman's plight upstairs than she could un-hear her dreadful cries.

"Then I will go myself," she said and turned away. His voice stopped her before she reached the street.

"Before we call anyone, mademoiselle," he said shutting his book. "I think I'd like to hear for myself. We wouldn't want to go calling the police for a simple misunderstanding now would we?"

And taking the time to recap his pen, close the ledger and lock it away in the cupboard below the desk he at last accompanied Lena back upstairs.

The sounds from within the room had lessened but the keening was still there and as they stood listening another sharp exclamation of pain reached them.

"There," said Lena. "Now do you see?" 

The man was still unconvinced, but when Lena began to protest he at last seemed inclined to take things more seriously. His manner became brisk and business-like.

"Very well -- you can leave this to me." He led her to her own door. "You go back inside and I'll make sure everything is taken care of. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Lena was ushered inside.

"I'm very grateful, mademoiselle, believe me."

And then she was alone once more facing a closing door.

Lena sat on the bed. Her breathing was shallow and fast. She found she was trembling. Would they be in time? When help finally arrived would the woman, whoever she was, still be alive. The thought that they might be too late was more than she could bear.

She could not tell how long she sat, waiting for the sound of heavy feet on the stairs, the hammering on the door and the demands to open to the gendarmerie. But all she heard was silence.

At length unable to sit still any longer she carefully opened the door. This time there was nothing. Just the stillness of the corridor and the far off sound of a cistern filling with water. It was as if the animal cries had never existed. Normality had returned with such force that Lena was left wondering if she had imagined the whole thing. 

And then all doubt left her. 

"No more -- please!"

The woman's voice cut through the silence. Lena knew she must not wait a moment longer. She turned and ran.

The Proprietor was no longer behind the front desk. Had he gone for the police? Surely he would have been back by now? Perhaps she should run into the street and stop a passer by? Should she try to contact the police herself? She must surely do something. 

In the end she did none of these things. Because she was interrupted by the sound of a closing door from the landing above and turned to find a man descending the stairs. He was middle aged, respectable. His coat was obviously expensive. He carried a pair of pigskin gloves and -- like a stage prop from an Edwardian melodrama - a silver topped cane. He nodded to her as he passed and moved on into the street.

Lena was rooted to the spot. It was a moment before she was able to move and slowly retrace her steps. Upstairs she listened outside the door. From within she heard nothing. The keening had stopped. The woman's voice was silent. Not knowing what else to do she returned to her own room and sat on the bed.

The incident had unsettled her badly. She felt foolish and alone. How quickly her adventure in the romantic capital of the world had turned sour. She was trapped here in a strange hotel, while across the hall, for all she knew a woman was lying dead. She began to regret the note she had sent to her husband. Suddenly she knew what she had to do. She began to throw her few belongings into the suitcase. She would go to the station and change her ticket. She could explain that her friend had been called away to tend her sick mother, which was no more than the truth. She wanted only to be gone from here and back in the arms of her husband.

And then she heard the door open across the landing. Lena's mind was racing. If the man she had seen really had been in the room then this could only be the woman who's voice she had heard. A wave of relief spread through her. She tiptoed across the room and strained her ears. She heard the click of the closing door. And then the sound of something falling heavily to the floor.

Out in the corridor she found a girl about her own age struggling to her feet. Lena hurried to help her.

"Are you all right?"

The girl seemed a little dazed.

"Yes -- forgive me," she said. Her voice was barely audible.

At once taking charge, Lena led her back inside and sat her on the bed.

"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I should have waited a little longer."

"What happened? -- I'm sorry but I heard you shouting -- I told the owner. He's gone for the police. I thought they would be here by now. But you're quite safe. They can't be far away."

The girl shook her head and smiled sadly.

"The police won't be coming," she said. "Not here." 

She looked at Lena.

"You don't know where you are, do you?" she said. "You don't know what this place is."

And when Lena stared back unsure how to answer, her visitor extended her hand.

"Yvette," she said. And smiled, this time with real warmth. "Please -- I'm grateful for your help. Do let us be friends."

During the course of the next hour Lena listened with increasing incredulity as Yvette told her story. And somehow in the welter of emotions produced by her narrative all thoughts of returning to the station and her husband evaporated. 



The Descent Ch. 03



"Does it hurt?"

"No. Why did you stop?"

"Ah. It is my decision. If you want more, you must request me."

"I request you."

"What do you request?"

He needed to come. He needed to feed the ember that was glowing in his bowels. He squirmed, and she slapped his balls for his impertinence. "Ah! You liked that! Do you want me to do that some more?"

"Yes."

"What else?"

"I want you to fuck the shit out of me."

"Ah, my friend, you have potential." She smiled. "My husband will be pleased." But instead of doing what he had requested, she withdrew. He had expected pain as the head moved back though the straits of his inner sphincter -- but there was none. The base had plunged in so far that it had stretched him wider than that. The monitor showed how he was gaping -- almost as much as Karina in that one photograph. He was staring at it until the screen was obscured by Karina herself, scrambling up on the table to straddle his chest.

"What are you doing?" She was still wearing the strapon. She leaned forward so that it was right in his face -- pungent, speckled with little spots of brown against the glistening purple.

"It is time for the second part of your lesson."

"The second part?"

"You have two ways to provide pleasure to a man. Actually three, if he prefers you to fuck him. It is time to train you in the second." She ran the tip of the dildo along his lips. There was no mistaking her intention.

"But ..." his protests were cut off. Opening his mouth to complain had only given her the opportunity to enter it. 

"But what? It does not smell as you would prefer? It is coated with your shit? My friend, this is exactly the situation that will present itself to you. You must learn to deal with it. Open nicely now, or I will be forced to gag you."

He opened his mouth as wide as he could. He tried to hide his tongue away from the intrusion.

"Lick it," she said. She withdrew, and knelt down in front of him, taking him into her own mouth. "Lick it, like this." She had his penis halfway in, her teeth at least three inches beyond the tip, and she somehow managed to wrap her tongue around it, inside her mouth. He was going to come! One more lick, one more instant, and he was going to spurt into her throat! But she stopped, she clambered back on top of him.

"Did you perceive, how that was done?"

"I felt it. I don't know how you did it."

"You will try it. Now." She pushed the dildo back into his mouth. There was barely room for his tongue to move around it. The tip was pressing against the back of his throat, gagging him. His nose was stuffy, and he was having trouble breathing.

"Good," she said. She withdrew again, and turned around. She was crouching with a knee on either side of her head. The strapon only had a few straps to secure it, it left her completely exposed, and she was wide open above him, He could smell how aroused she was, so wet that she was dripping onto his face, and he struggled to reach her with his tongue. But she thrust her hips up above his reach, bent down so that her back was almost vertical, and tilted her chin up to tale him into her mouth again. What an odd position, he thought to himself, almost like a circus performer upside down. A sword swallower. This time, she just kept taking him in. He felt the tip of his penis brush the back of her throat, and inward. She kept going until her lips were touching his balls.

"Oh my God!" He would have come on the spot, but he was too terrified. He knew that she had demonstrated for him what he was supposed to do next. She released him, and slid back over his face, letting him lick her stomach and breasts in the process. Then she crouched behind him, the dildo pointing down at him ominously, headed for his mouth once more.

"No way!" he gasped.

"My friend, you must be able to do this." She pulled his head back so that he was staring up at her. "Keep your head in that position. Press your tongue out against your teeth. Yawn." She pushed the dildo into his mouth. He gagged as it touched the back. "My friend, you must learn how to do this. Quickly."

She punched his stomach, he belched, and she had shoved herself into his throat.

"Not the nice way," she said. "Do you see now, it is not so bad?" She pulled back out. "Now, we will do it properly. From the beginning." She clambered off the top of the table.

"What are you doing?"

"Refreshing." She was at the bottom of the table again. She thrust the dildo back into his guts, plunging it in completely in one quick motion. He gasped at the pain as it went in, then again as the head came out. She returned to the top of the table. 

"No," he gagged. The very thought of it was making him queasy. 

"My friend, if you will do this thing properly, you will have satisfied your forfeit. More than that. You may have anything you wish of me, for the rest of the afternoon."

"What time is it?" He was sure there was no afternoon left.

"Not yet one o'clock."

Not even an hour had passed.

"What do I need to do?"

"Your lips must touch the base. Are you ready?"

He opened up his mouth, and accepted the foul smelling thing. Don't breathe, he told himself. Tongue down, yawn, relax. Pretend it's the dentist. The dildo was well greased with lubricant. With shit. It slid quite easily down into his throat. Further, further, and then he felt the rough texture of the strapon. He gave a sigh of relief. But then she began to pump in and out. He began to choke.

"Next time," she said. "We will leave it to next time. Next time, we will do it with an actual penis."

"What?"

"You must learn how to handle ejaculation. Does your wife do this for you?"

"Yes," he nodded, "not deep throating, though."

"And do you prefer to ejaculate into her mouth?"

"Yes." He sighed, remembering the battles all through college over just that issue. 

"Come," she was releasing him, "it is your turn now. You see, I did not cheat you, I did not milk you dry. I preserved you so that you could enjoy this moment."

"Lean over the table." She did that, draping herself from side to side.

"No. The other direction." He grabbed her hair, urging her head to the top of the table, and she pulled her legs over to drape them down the base.

"Like this? What is the distinction?" 

"You'll see." He grabbed her wrists, pulling then up towards the cuffs that had held him. She realized what he was doing, and began to struggle. He slapped her, hard, open hand against an ear. The shock stunned her for a moment, long enough for him to snap her wrists into the restraints. 

"I did not agree to this," she said. Her voice was trembling. She was shivering. She was trying to crawl up onto the table. There were, of course, straps attached to the table legs near the base. He grabbed one of her legs, and pulled it down, wrapped the strap around it. She kicked at him, feebly, with the other leg. He took it, almost gently, and strapped it in also. She was helpless now, her cheeks spread wide to reveal her openings. 

"Please," she said, "my friend, not like this."

"You said anything." He found where she had dropped the whisk. He picked it up and gave her a swat on her smooth, lovely ass. "How does that feel? Bitch."

"My friend, this is not wise. My husband will not be pleased at this."

"My friend, don't send him this part." Another swat. "Open your cheeks up wider." Another swat, directly on her lips. "Do you like that?"

"Yes. No. Please, it is not permitted."

"Not permitted? Very well then." He had waited long enough. He pushed himself hard into her asshole. No lubrication -- well, he was dribbling enough for that. But she wasn't ready, she wasn't expecting it, not that hard, not that vicious. She let out a howl of pain. He drew back out, and plunged in again, even harder than before. She screamed once more, and it was over. There it was, that little blob of white, dribbling down into her cunt. He'd done it. He'd done it. She was sobbing. He sank to the floor, head in his hands. His eyes were watering, his throat was sore, chafed, it seemed. His butt ached. And he was going to Hell, if not to jail first. It had been a long time since he had raped a woman.

"Karina," he said at last, "I am sorry. I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?" That was a stupid question. Her butt was covered with welts. There was actually some blood in between her cheeks.

"Tom." Not "my friend" anymore. "Tom, you can not leave me this way."

Of course. He remembered how aroused she had been, straddling him to take him in like a sword. He crawled behind her and licked away his semen. He licked away that little trace of blood, where the lash had cut her tender secrets. He licked forward, stroking her clitoris. She came, savagely, for a long time.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Tom, my friend, that was very considerate of you." She was laughing now. "But what I meant, is that you cannot leave me in the restraints."

"Oh, of course." He hastened to release her.

She started to kiss him, then drew back. He realized that his mouth was smeared with her juices, his shit, his semen.

"Ready for lunch?" The suggestion was so casual, it caught him completely off guard. It was as if nothing had happened.

"Yes." He realized suddenly that he was starving. "I need to rinse off." He went back to the bathroom by the family room. When he came back out, she already had a tray of cold cuts prepared. "We will eat on the back porch," she said. "It is warm, in the sun."

He was looking around for his shorts, but she went out the door, still naked. He trailed out after her.

"Do not worry. No one can see. Or, if they do, they do not complain." She went inside, leaving him feeling very foolish, only to return a moment later with a couple of beers.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what came over me."

"You have always wanted to do these things? To bind? To lash? To rape?"

"No. Yes. I'm so sorry." He buried his face in his hands.

"I am used to it." She gave a bitter smile. "I am quite familiar with such treatment. I have even come to enjoy it, somewhat." Then, she paused, not able any longer to contain her tears, and added, "I had hoped for better from you."

That was enough to make him blush with shame. It was enough to make him kneel before her, knees complaining at the rough texture of the wood, and to kiss her knees. "Karina, I promise it will never happen again. At least," he added, "not without your consent."

That made her smile again, a real smile this time. She sniffled a little, took a napkin to delicately dry her face. "I gave you consent. I gave you, how do you say it, a carte blanche. A white check?"

"Blank check."

"Blank check." She rubbed her butt ruefully. "You are very powerful. Stronger, perhaps, than my husband. Do you study martial arts?"

"No."

"A pity. He would enjoy, perhaps, sparring with you. He is an expert, trained by the KGB."

"He's an ex KGB, like Putin?"

"Yes, very much like Putin."

"A criminal?" The answers were leaping to him.

"Criminal. Diplomat. Businessman. Politician. There is no distinction, in my country. There are the men of power. Do you understand?"

"I think so. My wife is Italian. Sicilian," he added.

"Oh," she thought about that for a moment. "Your son does not look Italian. He has red hair and dapples."

"Freckles."

"Freckles."

"That's from me. Irish."

"You do not look Irish."

"Irish and German."

"German!" She spat it out like a curse.

"My family has been in this country a long time." 

"Very well." That seemed to appease her. "Are you ready to fuck again?"

"What?" The question caught him completely off guard.

"It is now," she checked the watch that was her only article of adornment, "half past one o'clock. You would need to depart from here in an hour. That gives us time to fuck at least once, assuming that you are ready. Yes," she added, "I see that you are. What would you like to do?"

"I would like," he sighed, "I would like to make love."

"What, what is that? What is it that you wish to do?"

"Something gentle. Something that two friends would do to share their friendship. To share their affection for each other."

"You would lie on top of me and gently kiss me?"

"Yes."

"And I would wrap my limbs around you, and enfold you?"

"Yes."

"And you would slide deep within me, but gently, and I would put my tongue similarly into your mouth, and we would be locked together in our mutual affection?"

"Something like that." 

"Do you think, that you could achieve orgasm in this manner?"

"Probably not," he admitted.

"Well, we will attempt it. We will go on from there, if need be. Tom, my friend." She paused. "Please, understand. However loving we may appear to be, I still require to train you."

"I understand."

"The training will be very cruel. Today was just a foretaste."

"I understand."

"What follows, beyond the training, may be even more disturbing." She paused. "It will be better, if you do not love me. It will be easier, for both of us."

"I understand."

"It is dangerous, for us to embrace, as you suggest, to embrace as lovers."

"I understand. Does that mean that you will not do it?"

"It means that I have warned you, as I must. If your heart is broken, it is not without forewarning."

"It's too late. Too late for that." 

"For me, also." She smiled, and stood up to kiss him on the forehead. "Come then, my friend, my lover, let us pretend that we are foolish virgins."

*

Author's note: While this started out as a simple Halloween story, it is turning into a full blown novel. I'm posting the first few chapters for the Halloween contest. The rest still has to be written out.

Stayed tuned for Chapter 4, when Tom tries it out with an actual guy.



The Descent Ch. 04



"You are tardy." Karina answered the door wearing only a frown and a strapon. The strapon, Tom noticed, was already glistening.

"I'm sorry. I stopped to vote."

"You what?"

"I stopped to vote. I was running right past there. Saves me an extra trip."

"They let you vote," she stared at his near nudity, "like that?"

"Yep."

"You did not need to provide identification?"

"They know who I am."

"Amazing. What an amazing country. Well, come in then. As you can see, we have started without you."

"We?" Who were the "we?" He got the answer as he stepped into the living room. A naked boy was lying on his stomach on the couch.

"Hi, Mr. Ryan."

"Brian." He flushed with embarrassment and shame. He wanted to bolt back out the door. But Karina had her hand firmly on his arm. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I graduated. Community college now, but no classes today because of the election."

"Oh."

"Did I hear you say you voted? So did I. First time," he added, not that he needed to.

"Brian has been training," Karina broke in, "for some time now."

"Thought I'd pick up a little extra cash." That brought a frown to her face, a quick motion of her hand to keep silent.

"What's going on?" Tom asked. "What is really going on here?"

"Please," Karina said, "in time you will understand. For the moment, accept that all that I have told you is the truth, and that your training is essential."

"And there are more things that you will be telling me?"

"Yes," she sighed. "More things."

"Why not tell me these additional things now?"

She sighed. She was silent for a minute, two minutes, perhaps. Her face barely contained the emotions that were surging within her. "My friend, I cannot tell you these things. I cannot even explain to you why I cannot. If you wish to leave, leave now. If you wish to continue, you must trust me."

He sighed, and took off the jogging shorts. "I should rinse off."

"No need."

"I should purge myself."

"You should have been on time. You will proceed, as you are."

"We are going into the recreation room?"

"No. We will be more comfortable here." It seemed she wasn't letting him anywhere near the bondage equipment, not after yesterday. "Brian, will you resume your position?" 

The boy draped himself over the back of the couch, spreading his legs. The area in between was slick, he was still partly open. It seemed that she had been fucking him with the dildo, right up until she had answered the door. 

"Good thing it wasn't Jehovah's Witnesses," Tom muttered.

"What is that?"

"It's a good thing it was me at the door, not Jehovah's Witnesses."

"Oh," she laughed. "It happened once. They have not returned since. Here." She took a tube of lubricant and spread on Tom's penis, rubbing it a little to urge it to stiffness. "Well?" She stared at him, waiting for him to get on with it.

"You want me to fuck Brian?"

"Yes." She sighed at his stupidity. "Of course. Why do you think that he is here? That you are here? You need to train with each other. More exactly, I want you to attempt to make him climax. He needs to learn how to do that, without any stimulation to his penis. Eventually, he will need to be able to do it in bondage. You also must learn how to achieve this. However, I would prefer that you do not yourself climax, not that way. I want him to practice accepting ejaculation."

"In his mouth?"

"Of course, in his mouth."

"Oh my God." He knew, that in a moment, nothing would ever be the same. Once his penis slid inside the boy, he would be ... what? He hardly even dared to think of it.

"Tom," she was saying, "what is your hesitation?"

"I can't do this."

"Tom, you have already committed to do this thing. You have promised. You have compromised me. If you waver now ..."

"I promised to please your husband."

"And how will you do that, if you do not train for it? I warned you that there would be training. You did not hesitate," she added. "If anything, you jumped at the chance. Even if you will not admit it to yourself, this is what you wanted."

"No," he protested.

"Look at him, how beautiful he is. In the future, you may have to deal with flesh that is not so desirable." She stroked the boy's back, she ran his fingers down to find his balls. "Come, feel. Enjoy." She took Tom's hand and urged it forward, she pressed it up to cup those balls. Well, they felt more or less like his, perhaps a little larger. He jiggled them, and Brian groaned.

"Brian," he asked, "are you okay with this?"

"It's part of my training."

"Come," she urged him closer to the couch. "Come."

"Brian," he sighed, "I'm sorry." He kissed the boy's neck, down his back, skinny and muscular, like his wife, and just as smooth. He kissed one cheek, gave it a little nibble, then the other. Then he licked the back side of those balls.

"Do not touch his penis," Karina growled. 

He licked above, as he had caressed Karina -- it seemed so long ago. Brian was trembling. "Don't," the boy was giggling, "that tickles."

With a sigh, he stood up and pressed himself, very gently, against that wet little asshole. There was no hint of resistant, just a sigh from Brian as his cock vanished. It was hot and smooth and tight. He hadn't really taken the time to enjoy Karina, he had been too aroused, too enraged. He had just felt flesh tearing against flesh, painful to both of them. Now he appreciated how the inner ring was clutching at him, how pleasurable it was to slide back out so that it just brushed the base of the tip of his penis. The same way he had fucked his wife, three nights before. But now he knew what it felt like on the other end. He tried to drive inward, to find that constriction he had felt opened within him, but he was not as large as the dildo. He could just brush the beginning of that passage. 

Karina slapped his ass. "Pay attention to his pleasure, not to yours. Make him come."

How to do that? He felt a little bump, sliding under his cock. That was it, the sweet spot. He started to rub the tip over it.

"Yes," Brian moaned. Tom reached down to feel how the boy was spouting. That provoked another slap.

"You may touch his balls," Karina said. "Touching his penis is not allowed."

All right. He dug his nails into those balls, the way he liked it done to him. He pushed harder, thrust more quickly. Brian squirmed, he shuddered. 

"That's enough," the boy gasped. A huge streak of white fluid on the back of the couch confirmed that. 

"Good," Karina said. "Very good. I knew you had potential. Come, let us move on."

Brian slid back onto the couch, then sideways, on his stomach, with his chin propped up on the low wide armrest. It put his head, Tom realized, into the sword swallower position, mouth open wide and waiting.

"Keep you hands behind your back," Karina said. "In the future, they will be bound there. Tom, do you understand what you are to do?"

It seemed pretty obvious. His cock, he decided, was pretty clean, considering. No shit on it at all. "He's going to give me a blow job."

"Not exactly. Brian is going to lie in that position without movement or resistance. You are going to push into him as deeply as you can, and use his throat for your pleasure."

"Isn't that going to hurt?"

"Here." She smeared more lube on him. "This will reduce the discomfort."

All this is coming back at me. Everything I do to him, he will do to me. That was how he justified himself. "Sit beside him, hold his hands back."

"You want him to be bound?"

"Yes," Tom admitted.

"Very well." She vanished for a moment, and came back with a set of double cuffs, which she attached the boys wrists and ankles. Brian was still through it all, holding his position, mouth still open and waiting.

"See how well he is trained?" she said. 

Tom had dreamed of this, many times, maybe not with a boy, but some helpless figure. Still, he was gentle. He pushed into Brian's mouth very carefully, feeling the barrier at the back. The boy moved his head a little, trying to aim, and grunted for Tom to go on. A little, gentle push, and there was the constriction of the throat entrance. Then it parted, and he was sliding all the way in.

"My God!" He could see the bulge in Brian's throat where his penis had invaded. He watched it move, as he rocked gently in and out.

"When you are about to ejaculate," she said, "pull out into his mouth. He must taste and swallow." 

She was behind him, then, kissing his back. She licked his balls, and he barely had time to do what she had requested. Brian gagged a bit as he slid out of the throat area, even more as semen spurted onto the area that he had just chafed.

"Good. Do not withdraw. Now, urinate into his mouth."

"What?"

"Urinate into his mouth. Carefully, so that he can consume it. I do not want to spoil the rug."

"Brian," he withdrew so that the boy could talk. "Is this okay?"

"It will be expected of you," Karina said. "I can assure you, that my husband will require this."

"He pees into your mouth?" Tom was aghast.

"Routinely. It is not so bad."

Tom sighed, and put himself back into that gaping mouth. He really did have to urinate, he felt as if his bladder was bursting, but nothing happened. "I can't do it." It had taken him a long time to be able to come in his wife's mouth. This was beyond him.

"Brian," Karina said, "are you ready to urinate?"

"More than ready."

"Good. Come over here." She knelt down with her mouth open.

"What the fuck!" Tom had a view of Brian from the front for the first time.

"What is the matter?" Karina closed her lips to talk at just the wrong moment. Brian tried to stop, but she had urine dribbling down her chin, between her breasts. The boy delicately licked it off of her.

"He's got tits!" Not big ones, not even as big as his wife's, but noticeable. Budding, like a little girl.

"Too much pot, I guess," Brian mumbled.

"Bullshit! Bullshit!" Tom grabbed Karina by her long black hair, and slapped her. First her left cheek, then each breast, his wedding ring catching her nipple on the last slap so that she screamed in pain.

"Stop that!" Brian grabbed at his arm, but Tom shrugged off the boy.

"What was that for?" she whimpered. "I thought you had declared to me, yesterday, that you would not do such a thing again."

"I thought, yesterday, that you were my friend, that I could trust you."

"I warned you, that the training would be cruel."

"You have been lying to me."

"I have told you the truth."

"You have not told me the whole truth."

"The whole truth. My friend, the whole truth is known only to God." She cowered as he poised for another slap. Brian tackled him this time, knocking him to the rug. He kicked the boy hard, right in the balls, and sat up again.

"There are true things that you know, that you have not told me."

Karina sighed. "Let us call a truce."

"A truce then, if you will level with me."

"Level with you?" She sat up straighter so that her eyes were even with his.

"Tell me," he growled, "what the fuck is going on here."

"Tom, my friend. Please understand this. Everything that has happened, today and yesterday, has been recorded. Those recordings have been sent far away, to a place where they cannot be destroyed. There are agents who will disseminate those recordings if they do not receive instructions from me to the contrary."

He sat there, dumbfounded. "Why are you telling me this. Blackmail?"

"No, not blackmail. To encourage your attention, your," she searched for a word, "your willingness. To ensure that you do not break our truce."

"You will force me."

"I will not force you. I will implore you. You do not even know yet, what I am asking of you."

"Brian knows?"

"He knows what I am about to tell you."

"It's okay," Brian broke in. "Calm down. Give her a chance."

"What is it?" Tom sighed.

"My husband," Karina said, "is a dangerous man. Sooner rather than later, I will need to escape him."

"Escape. How?"

"I will need my own resources. Do you not feel it also, the need for your own resources? Your own funds at your disposal? I am a kept woman. You are a kept man. We are both in the same dilemma."

"Your solution?"

She sighed again. "I provide actors for certain types of movies. Participants for certain types of private parties."

"Men who can please both men and women."

"Women, also."

"You train them."

"Yes."

"Not for your husband?"

"Yes, for my husband!" She slammed the rug in frustration. "He is assured that all this is for his benefit. If he ever suspected otherwise ..." She paused. "The payments are quite substantial, all in cash, all without a way to trace them."

"Karina, I am not growing tits. I'm married. I have a kid."

"You will be able to do the film work, using makeup."

"The private parties," Brian broke in, "are where the big money is."

"Brian," Tom sighed, "how are you going to get away with this?"

"I strap them down. I wear a tee shirt."

"Someday your parents are going to see you. See them."

"You think I want to live at home all my life? By that time I'll have enough money to move out on my own."

"Tom," Karina said, "there is a movie to be made the day after tomorrow. It will be worth five hundred dollars to you, if you can do it."

"Five hundred dollars?" 

"Yes. That is as much as the women are paid. You are being paid," she added, "to act as a woman. Do you understand?"

"Five hundred," he repeated. "Not all that much."

"We do these," she added, "once or twice a week. It is only a few hours of your time."

Enough to pay for that flight his wife had taken. Enough to get her home each weekend.

"Tomorrow," she was saying, "we will complete your training."

"I'm busy tomorrow," he groaned.

"This afternoon, then. Brian, are you capable? Ah, look at that. Is not youth wonderful? Tom, please present yourself."

"I really need to pee."

"You had your opportunity. Do you wish to try again?"

"Karina, please. I don't want to mess up your nice furniture."

"Very well." She left for a moment, and came back with a large pitcher. "Into this, if you please."

It was difficult, with the two of them staring at him, but then it all came out in a rush. She placed it on one of the coffee tables. He'd secretly been hoping to purge his bowels. He felt as if she had deliberately thwarted him. "I'm not very clean," he blurted out.

"All the better, in this instance. Both of you must learn to cope with such an eventuality."

He draped himself over the back of the couch. Brian's cock was not tapered like the dildo. It was slimmer, perhaps even a bit longer. There were no caresses, not a hint of foreplay. He was lying there, waiting for something to happen, and the next instant, that skinny cock was lancing into him, defying any resistance.

"Youth," Karina grumbled. "You are much too hasty. Did you not relish the kisses that Tom gave to you? Remove yourself. We will begin again, properly." There was a tone to her voice that Tom had not heard before, bitter, angry, dangerous. It was obvious that slap had not been forgiven.

"Karina," he said, "I'm so sorry. I did not intend to hurt you."

"No one." She stopped. She was trying not to sob. "No one ever intends to hurt me. That does not prevent them from doing so. Come, lie upon the rug. No, on your back, facing your lover." He winced at her choice of words. "Roll up. Now, Brian, enter him,"

"No kisses?" 

"Not at this moment."

The boy just plunged into him again, even deeper than before, impaling the top of his rectum, worming, it seemed, all the way through. Tom gasped.

"Now, Tom," Karina's voice was tinged with contempt, "wrap your limbs around him. Very good. Now. Place your tongue within his mouth. Lie quietly, sharing your affection."

Tom opened his mouth to protest, and Brian kissed him, plunged his tongue within him. It was one thing to fuck the boy, that was hard enough, but to kiss him! And Brian was kissing him tenderly, passionately, stroking his hair. It was the best kiss of his life. The boy moved within him, not much, sliding his smooth hard belly against his erection in the process, and Tom came. He came, gasping, shuddering, his bowels in spasm, and Brian gave a sigh, a shudder of his own. They lay still for a few moments, still locked together, enjoying the way their flesh was glowing.

"I love you," the boy withdrew his tongue to murmur that. He raised himself up on his arms and began to move his hips again. He was already interested in more.

"No," Karina said. "Into his mouth. As you did for him. Tom, lie down on your back. Brian, come around behind him. Sit cross legged, like a yogi. Yes. Now, Tom, slide back, put your shoulders on his knees. Pull your head back."

Tom barely had time to see how thickly coated Brian's cock was. There was no escaping its pungency. There are been no opportunity to purge, and the boy had plunged in far into his bowels.

"Do not go in too quickly," Karina ordered. "Let him appreciate the taste of his bowels." Bitter, spicy. Actually, it was not too bad. "Now," she added, "provide him with something to wash it down. Carefully."

Brian was not careful, and Tom gagged and sputtered as the warm fluid burned his tonsils. He managed to gulp it down before it spilled out to stain the rug. Brian pushed on into his throat, and he felt warmth trickling down into his stomach. He could not see what was happening to his body, his head was cocked upward, staring at the boy's budding, conical breasts. But he could feel hands sliding over him, he sensed that he was erect again, pulsing with desire. Brian was rocking now, fucking his throat. There was soft weight on his thighs. He reached down to feel how Karina was straddling him. His hands found her breasts, and she engulfed him. She was so loose, so moist, that he barely felt her flesh enfolding him. She was rocking harder now, tightening with excitement, and Brian was pushing harder, too hard, carelessly. Tom tried to gag, but there was no way to escape. His throat went into spasm, and that was enough to send Brian over the edge. Karina, too. The two of them, together, hanging over him, triumphant. They got up and went out into the kitchen, leaving him on the carpet, soaked in their sweat, and worse, spent, used, and abandoned.

He was still erect. He made an attempt to induce one last orgasm, but no amount of straining would achieve it. He realized that he really needed, desperately, to find a bathroom. However much fluid the boy had deposited within him was working its way into his bladder. And his bowels were on fire.

He went down the hall to the bathroom with the murals. The room with a view. Once the end was in sight, he barely made it onto the toilet. Everything came out in one rush. He showered then, gargling the warm water as deeply as he could, rinsing his mouth with the bath soap. He would, he thought, never be clean again. He felt better than he ever had before. He could not believe that he had dared to do those things. He could not believe that he had actually done them. He could not wait to do them again.

He got out to the kitchen to find the other two sipping beer. "Underage," he teased.

Karina actually turned pale. She sputtered on her beer.

"To drink," Tom hastened to add. "He's too young to drink."

"What a strange country," she said. "He can vote, and he can fuck, but he cannot drink?" She sighed. "Tom," she stood up and kissed him. "Tom, my friend," ah, he was her friend again. All was forgiven. "You have done well. You have seen, that some of these things, which you may have feared, are not so unpleasant after all? Even, on occasion, pleasurable?"

"Yes."

"Things are things which others fear, which we can astonish and delight by performing. Do you understand?"

"I think so."




The Descent Ch. 04



Bartender looked at the scene. I was standing naked with Laura's strap-on dildo attached to my waist, Larua lay on her side—her pussy throbbing and cum dripping from her newly fucked asshole, and naked Jen on all fours looking back at us with wide eyes. The 18 year old Guy stood in the corner with his limp dick in his hands, waiting for what was going to happen next.

"So what are we doing?" Bartender asked with his charming smile. His cock was already out of his pants. 

I looked at his growing cock for a moment thoughtfully. I took a step toward him and grabbed his shaft firmly. "This is my room now. Do you agree to that?" I asked with a sharp tone. I stroked his cock a couple times as if he needed convincing.

He swallowed then replied, "Yes."

"Yes mistress," I corrected.

"Wait...what? Not an hour ago you were..."

I slapped him across the face to shut his mouth. "That was there...and this is here." I said glaring at him. I stroked his growing dick some more and moved my face very close to his. He was breathing quickly. "This is my room."

"Yes mistress," he answered.

"Good," I said without smiling. 

I pulled him toward the bed by his cock. "Now, get all your clothes off and on the bed."

He quickly complied and sat down next to Jen. I could tell they knew each other from the way their eyes met. It made sense, he tended bar and she waited tables...in this place they may have even been together before. Not like this however.

I slapped Jen's ass firmly. It jiggled and I slapped it again. 

"Ow," she said looking back at me. Her friend here had given her a new dose of confidence. 

"Jen," I began with a business like tone. Taking command was making my nipples hard. "The only thing I want to hear out of you is moans, screams and 'yes mistress.' Do you understand?"

"Yes mistress," she replied falling into her role again.

"Now get over there Bartender and get your cock up so she can suck your balls."

"Jen roll on your back...we are going to use you." I slapped her ass again as she rolled over too slowly for my liking.

Bartender positioned himself over her. She lay back with her head on the bed, her mouth open and her legs spread in front of me. Bartender looked at me, and then pressed his cock back and his balls dangled over her mouth. She opened her mouth and started to suck them. Bartender took a breath as her warm mouth covered his balls.

"Good girl," I said.

Her pussy was still glistening from Laura's attention not long ago, but I wanted it to be wetter. I got on my knees, stuck out my tongue and started to lick her gently. She squirmed and gulped at Bartender's balls while opening her legs wider for me to lick her. I ran my tongue over her pussy then found her clit and sucked it. I thought about how I wanted my pussy ate and I did the same to her. She moaned against his balls as I sucked.

"Feed her your cock," I commanded Bartender.

He nodded, pushed his cock down into her open mouth. I stood up, fumbled with the black dildo and pushed it into her wet pussy. She moaned as she sucked the tip of his dick and took the 8 inches of dildo. I grabbed her knees to get some leverage and pumped her slowly. Her beautiful boobs bounced with each thrust and as Bartender pushed his cock deep in her mouth I saw she was getting wetter and wetter.

"Good girl," I said again, pumping her faster and harder. I slid my hand over her clit and rubbed while I fucked her. Bartender was breathing heavy and yanking his dick all the way from her mouth then jamming it back in. Jen groaned and moaned then she came, clenching the bed with one hand and Bartender's wet cock with the other.

I pulled the dildo from her pussy, it was glistening and shining with her wetness. 

"Ok, turn over," I commanded.

She rolled to her tummy, kept sucking Bartender's cock and stuck her ass up. I rubbed the dildo and my hands were covered with her juice. I rubbed her asshole with my fingers and took more juice from her pussy. I rubbed it and managed to push a finger into her ass. Jen groaned and shifted uncomfortably. I slapped her ass hard with my free hand and kept moving my finger in a circle. 

Her ass wasn't perfect like Laura's, but it was firm, round and still had nice shape. I fingered her asshole and watched her suck Bartender's cock. He was pumping her face slowly—he knew how to pace himself and I was glad he was here.

"Mistress," Laura said. She was sitting up looking at me.

"Yes?"

"May I..." she motioned the flopping dildo and continued, "...fuck her ass? I want to do it the way you did it to me."

I smiled. I unfastened the belt and watched her put it on. I had always looked up to perfect Laura and now she was here taking my lead. I thought about staying late at work and fucking her in my office. My life was already looking brighter.

"Thank you," she said, fastening the belt then facing Jen's ass. I pulled my finger from Jen's asshole and sucked it. 

"Wait," I said. I got on my knees and grabbed Jen's firm ass cheeks with my hands. She had a great looking pussy. It was so neatly trimmed and subtle. Her asshole was higher on her body than Laura's and the space from her pussy was larger. I smiled at some dirty thoughts then stuck out my tongue and licked her pussy. I knew she loved it from behind so I indulged her. I pressed her ass against my face and licked. Then I started to rub her clit and shifted my attention to her asshole. I began to lick it over and over. She moved her ass in a circle in response to my licking. I gripped her ass cheeks, spread them as far as I could then jammed my tongue in as best as I could. She took some of my tongue and moaned. 

Satisfied, I stood up. "Get your cock out of her mouth." I commanded the Bartender. He slid back on the bed away from her open mouth. His dick was covered in her saliva and glistening with precum. I felt my mouth water as I looked at it.

Laura stepped behind Jen and pressed the head of the dildo against her small asshole. Jen looked back at us sheepishly. "Mistress...I..." Jen began.

"Shut up," I snapped at her. I held the dildo and pushed it harder against her asshole. Laura shifted her hips and pressed forward. After some moments of pushing, Jen's asshole took the head of the dildo. Jen grunted.

Laura pushed forward again and it moved in about an inch.

"Ow..." Jen said clenching her teeth.

I licked my hand and rubbed it over the damp dildo. I looked up at Bartender and motioned him to come over. He slid over the bed and as soon as he stopped I was on my knees licking his cock clean. I took it all the way in the spit it out and stood up in front of him. "Find some lube." I snapped. He stood up and walked out of the room.

Laura was staring down at Jen's ass with most of the dildo still out. She clenched Jen's buttcheeks then pushed again. It slid in another inch. She looked up at me. "This...whole thing was in me?" She asked in a whisper.

I nodded. "It is going to be in her now." I said. I thought about fucking her again with it. I realized then what I wanted. What I needed. I looked up at Guy, "Get out." I said coldly.

He gave me a quizzical look. 

"Girls only...you are done." I walked to the door held it for him then closed it and locked it.

"What's happening?" Jen asked with a breath.

"Shut up." I said walking over to Laura and sucking on her earlobe. I whispered to her, "We don't need them. We have a cock...and it never gets tired." 

She looked at me and kiss my mouth. 

I put my hands on her face then told her, "Now fuck her...you didn't need lube and she won't either."

"Yes, mistress." Laura replied. She pressed Jen's ass with her hands again firmly and pushed. Jen let out a gasp and the dildo slid in another inch.

I put my hand down on Jen's pussy and started to rub it. I found her clit with my finger and touched it firmly. "There you go..." I said. I felt her getting wetter. I rubbed more on the remaining dildo shaft.

Laura pushed again and the dildo slid in further. It was almost there. Jen gasped at the push then moaned as I kept rubbing her clit. Laura pushed again and the dildo disappeared into Jen's asshole. "This is so hot..." Laura said.

She waited a moment then pulled it back slowly until Jen's asshole clenched the head.

"Fuck!" Jen said loudly. 

I kept rubbing her pussy and she kept breathing heavily.

Laura pumped the dildo back in and Jen squirmed and shuddered. "Ow...shit...that's so..." Her pussy was drenched and I slid a finger into her pussy. 

Laura pulled back then drove it in again. 

"Ah!" Jen yelled. She arched her back, pressed herself up on her hands and looked back at us. "Again." She said biting her lip.

Laura pulled back until the dildo locked the pumped again. Jen half closed her eyes and moaned with her lip still being bit. Her pussy was soaking so I rubbed more juice on the dildo as Laura pulled it back. She pumped it in again and it slid easily. 

"Ah!" Jen yelled again. She closed her eyes and nodded as Laura began to pump her slowly and firmly. She said, "Ah!" each time Laura pushed the cock all the way in.

I fingered her pussy with two fingers and Laura continued to pump her. Faster and faster until Laura was sweating and Jen rocked against the dildo firmly. Juice slid down her legs and I watched her start to cum at the sound of Laura rhythmically pumping her ass. 

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she yelled with each pump. She fell forward and slid her hands back over her ass and pulled her cheeks. "Deeper! Ah! Ah! I'm cumming...Ah! Ah!"

She shook and shuddered as Laura held her hands on Jen's hands so her ass was spread and fucked her. I fingered her pussy and got in three fingers as she came. Another orgasm swept her and she bit her lip and shook her head trying not to scream so loud. Her body pumped back against Laura steadily and there was a popping sound as their bodies drove together.

I wanted to see Jen's face. My pussy was dripping so I pulled my hand from her pussy. I stood up and grabbed her ass so they stopped. I helped Laura pull the cock from Jen's ass then told her to roll over. Jen groaned and complied.

"We can't get this in your pussy right now..." I explained, "It wouldn't be clean...so shift your hips...good." I slid the head of the dildo against her asshole, just under pussy. It was still gaping some and Laura slid it in asily.

"Oh! That's good...shit...what happened? That's..." Jen groaned as her body adjusted to the new angle.

She held her hands over her head and I slid to the top of the bed and held them down while Laura fucked her ass. Her boobs jiggled with each thrust and Laura grabbed her legs and pushed them farther apart.

I slid my legs over her head and straddled her. She could smell my wet pussy so she opened her mouth and I pressed against it then went forward and filled my mouth with hers. Laura pumped her quickly and as I ground my hips on her face I felt an orgasm over take me. I moaned against her clit, bit it and licked it as hard as I could.

"Fuck!" She screamed into my pussy. She squirmed and started to cum again. We sucked and licked while Laura fucked her ass. Sometimes Laura pulled it out and I sucked the black dildo greedily. Finally I came again and Jen gave out tired breaths against my pussy. I didn't know how long we had been 69ing, but it was long enough to know no man could do it.

I rolled off of Jen and Laura pulled the dildo out of her ass and took it off. She lay on the bed next to me—her body covered in sweat. She held the dildo between us and asked, "I wonder how many ways we can fuck with this?"

I smiled at her. Things were different. I looked into her eyes with lust, desire, greed and love. She was what I needed. Fuck my husband and his limp cock and all the other guys. We would want them sometimes for their cum...maybe. "After work tomorrow we should find out." I said and then I kissed her. 



The Descent Ch. 04



Yvette was a music teacher. About a year earlier the father of one of her private pupils had invited her to a party. She was told she could bring a friend and that a car would collect them and bring them to a house in Neuilly-sur-Seine. She had made up her mind not to go until her fiancé pointed out it would surely be unwise to disappoint a man who was in effect her employer. So when the day came they dressed and climbed into the car which in due course delivered them to a large house on the Avenue de Roule.

The party was far more grand than she imagined. There was no sign of her young student. From the moment of their arrival Yvette felt at a disadvantage. She had dressed carefully but the simple shift she had chosen seemed out of place here. The women were impossibly glamorous in low-cut evening gowns that sparkled in the soft light from the chandeliers. All the men wore dress suits. For and hour or two Yvette and her fiancé drifted from room to room on the party's glittering tide barely acknowledged by the other guests. 

By midnight they had exhausted the pleasures of the excellent buffet and drunk their fill of champagne. They resolved to see if they could find their host and request the name of a taxi firm that might take them home. It was at this point they were approached by an unprepossessing man Yvette had not noticed before. He was short -- only an inch or so taller than she was -- heavily built and probably in his fifties. He took Yvette by the elbow and turning to her fiancé said, "I wonder if I could borrow your companion for a moment?"

The young man had readily assented, and with a courteous bow, the stranger led Yvette out into the crowded entrance hall.

In the middle of the floor he halted. "Wait for me here", he said. "When I return we will go upstairs." 

And he left her.

Yvette felt suddenly exposed standing alone among the milling crowd. People were looking at her strangely. She had no idea what to do. It seemed unfair that the man, whoever he was, should have abandoned her like this, and absurd that she should remain - but there was something in the man's manner and the tone of his voice that kept her there. And what had he meant about going upstairs? She blushed at the foolishness of the question. Surely he could only have meant one thing. What he was proposing was impossible and she resolved to tell him so the moment he returned. 

She waited five minutes at the most but in her nervous state it seemed an eternity. It was with some relief she saw the man at last making his way through the crowd towards her. 

"Good girl ", he said, at once taking her elbow and guiding her towards the stairs. "This way." 

She knew she should tell him now, this was the moment she should explain that going upstairs with him was out of the question but somehow she found it difficult to begin. 

"My fiancé -- ," she started to say, but got no further. The man brushed her reservations aside with a wave of his hand. 

"Don't worry about your friend", he said, "This won't take long." 

His certainty unnerved her. He had behaved from the outset as if there was no possibility of her refusal and in the end it was not his insistence but an overpowering sense of the inevitability of things that made her put one foot in front of the other and begin to climb. 

Upstairs, the sound of their footsteps muffled by a thick turkey rug, the man led the way to the back of the house. He evidently knew where he was going because half way down a long corridor he turned aside, opened a door and ushered her in. Yvette found herself in a large drawing room with an oak library table and two wing chairs set in front of the fireplace. Without preamble the man removed his jacket and draped it over the chair back.

Yvette hadn't spoken since she entered the room. She was paralysed by her own inaction. She felt certain there must be a way out of this situation but somehow no possible route presented itself. Somehow the expensive curtains and the solidity of the furnishings seemed to undermine her. Watching his slow deliberate movements about the room it came to her with sudden clarity that whatever was going to happen here was beyond her control. So when the man turned to her and matter of factly told her to raise her arms she had done so. In one smooth movement he lifted the dress over her head so that she stood in her slip and stockings, shivering slightly in the cooler air.

He plucked at the soft material.

"Take this off."

She removed her slip and found herself bodily lifted and set down on the edge of the oak table. Now the stranger slipped the thin straps of her brassiere over her shoulders and took a breast in each hand. He began a dispassionate appraisal weighing their fullness in his palms and grazing her swollen nipples with his thumb.

"Wasted," he said to himself. And then as if in explanation, "On your fiancé . These are wasted. The young never know what to do with their perfect bodies. That is their great tragedy."

There was no threat in his manner, no sense of danger, just the unwavering certainty of his entitlement to her. He knew of course that she would comply with whatever he asked. And so comply she did, obediently lifting her bottom from the polished wood to allow him to remove her underwear

"Open your legs for me"

Yvette did as he asked and the man revealed a swollen cock which he took in his hand and guided to her. He fitted its head between her narrow lips, then slipped an arm under each of her thighs and pulled her onto him. Yvette felt herself open and take him in. She tried to retreat inside herself, to find a place in her head where she was shielded from everything that was happening. But there was something implacable about his slow rhythmic thrusts that made her head spin. Her thoughts became cloudy as despite herself her body began to respond. She was shocked to find how wet she had become. When she almost lost her balance her arm reached behind his head to support herself, pulling her to him. She struggled to understand what was happening to her. Her fiancé, had never taken her like this, never with this certainty and skill. Here she was with a complete stranger older than her own father, hypnotised by the movement of his cock, while, the man she was to marry waited helplessly downstairs.

This man had not asked, he had merely taken and at his call, with an inevitability that stunned her, her body had answered and she had opened to him.

She could feel the orgasm building irresistibly, bearing down on her like the Atlantic. She bit her tongue determined to forestall this last betrayal. "No", she said out loud, "No, no, no --". But even as she spoke she knew it was hopeless, knew that the wave had taken her, had already lifted her up and had begun the descent that would only end when it broke onto the rocks of her desire. A moment later a different cry spilled from her lips and shattered the silence of the room. 

In response he came out of her. Now he lifted her down and bent her over the table. She felt her nipples hard against the cold wood as he fitted himself to her from behind. This time he slid into her with an ease that only seemed to confirm his rights of ownership over the warm wet cunt she offered him. Now that she was open and receptive, he went on with more urgency, driving into her until finally as he approached his own release, he paused, and slowly withdrew until the head of his cock lodged in her outer lips on the very rim of her. And to her surprise it was Yvette who moved reaching back on to him hungrily and taking him in. A second orgasm claimed her as his final thrusts drove her into the table with such force that the following day she would find the bruises on the front of her thighs.

Five minutes later they were dressed and descending the staircase.

"You behaved very well" he said, as they crossed the floor and he delivered her to her fiancé. He made no attempt to explain their absence.

"I'm sorry to have kept her so long", he said. "She's a lovely girl. You're a very lucky man."

And turning on his heel, he left them.

Lena was wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Did you tell him? Your fiancé?"

"Yes" said Yvette. "But not until much later. Back then I thought that was the end of it."

"And it wasn't? "

Yvette shook her head.

She smiled. "I'm feeling much better now", she said. "But I would give a very great deal for some brandy and coffee. There's a café across the square. Come with me and I'll tell you the rest."

Lena willingly agreed and together with her new found friend she left the hotel and was soon settled at a café table in La Tabac on the Rue Martel.

Once Yvette had emptied her brandy into her coffee and taken a reviving sip she was ready to go on with her story.

About a week later, she said, her pupil's father handed her a note as she was leaving the house after a lesson. She did not open it until she was home but when she did the contents left her in a state of confusion.

It was from the man at the party. He signed himself only "D". 

Be outside the Hotel Nancy on the Rue Chevert at 3 o'clock on the afternoon of Tuesday 14th. I will meet you there. Please don't wear any underwear. On this occasion you will be caned so you should prepare yourself. D

She stared at the note in disbelief. That he should expect her to respond suggested he must have a very low opinion of her. How could he hope her to conduct an assignation like this? There were no soft words, no endearments that might have been expected to seduce her into accepting his proposal. Just the bald statement of fact, the expectation that she would do as he told her because he asked. But there was something more disturbing still. The final line of the note, the one in which he quite openly promised to beat her. 

She felt revulsion at the idea that anyone would agree to meet a man like this knowing what he intended. No one had struck her since she was eight years old and she was chastised by her father for an outburst of temper which resulted in the destruction of a bowl of Venice crystal. The shame and humiliation she had felt as he held her over the chair and used his belt came to back to her now as sharply as it had done a dozen years before.

And yet -- at the same time that every bone in her body reacted against the idea something stirred inside her. Something she fought to suppress, something that left her feeling faint and -- absurdly -- aroused.

She destroyed the note and resolved to have nothing to do with D, whoever he was. And for a while she felt better, more in control of her life. Yet something was troubling her. As the day approached she became aware of a growing agitation. She could not explain why this should be. If she had no intention of going, why should the approach of the appointment outside the Hotel Nancy touch her at all? The night before she found it impossible to sleep. She touched herself under the blankets and found that she was hot and moist. Hoping that an orgasm might relax her to the point where sleep would take her she slipped her fingers between her swollen lips and began to stroke herself. And it was there with the evidence of her own arousal under her searching fingers, her fiancé sleeping alongside, she finally accepted the inevitable -- that despite everything she had said she would meet this man. But she would not do as he asked and go without underwear. She would wear what she chose. That at least would be one small victory gained. Her mind made up she found release at last and smothered her aching cry in the softness of her pillow.



The Descent Ch. 04



"Good. On Thursday, then, I will come and pick you up. At eight o'clock."

"Okay."

"You must be prepared. Here," she handed him a tube of the depilatory cream. "Use this, in the morning. Your hair," she frowned, "can you cut it, very short?"

"A buzz cut," Brian said. "Like mine."

"I suppose so."

"Otherwise, we will have to shave your head."

"All right then. An enema?"

She gave him a strange look. "It would be better, if you were not too clean. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Watch out what you eat tomorrow," Brian said. "You'll be tasting it Thursday."

"Brian!" Karina gave him a smack. "That was not called for!" She thought for a moment. "Avoid spicy foods, asparagus."

"Anything else?" Tom was beginning to have second thoughts. This sounded like preparations for a medical procedure.

"Yes. If possible, save your energy."

"No ejaculations," Brian clarified.

"Wait," Karina said. She went down the hall, and returned with a bottle of pills. "Since you are somewhat more mature, you may require these to assure your performance."

He stared at the label and laughed. "Karina, I have no problem with erectile dysfunction."

"In front of a group of strangers, watching you, making rude comments, even laughing perhaps? It would be wiser to be safe than sorry."

"Anything else?"

"Wear as little clothing as possible. Just your shorts, perhaps." He stared at her, bewildered. "You will see. You will want to be ready, when you arrive."

"Ready?"

"Ready to fuck," Brian broke in. "Get your ass loosened up."

That made Tom blush in confusion. Karina went down the hall, and returned with a dildo and a tube of lubricant. "Use these," she said, "to prepare yourself." He was trying to imagine himself running back up the hill, carrying the dildo like a baton. "Here," she said, handing him a plastic grocery bag. He mumbled his thanks, and put them in. "Do not forget the cream. Do not forget to use it. Your attention to preparation will be crucial. Do not disappoint me."

"Now." She had picked up his shorts on the way back. She handed them to him. "It is time, I believe, that you must depart. Brian and I have some brief further business to attend to, do we not?"

That was enough to provoke a giggle from the boy, and a flush of jealousy from Tom.

"Gently, gently my friend." She kissed him again. "You have wrested enough pleasure from your body for one afternoon. I will see you, very soon."

"Tomorrow."

"No. Not tomorrow. You must rest tomorrow. Even though you and Brian are neighbours, you must resist that temptation also." That was enough to make him blush again, with shame this time.

"Thursday," Brian kissed him. 

"Thursday," he repeated. He found where he had left his shoes -- out in the hall by the bathroom. He had had them on until he had showered. He pulled them on, and bolted for the door. Then he remembered the bag. He came back to the kitchen to find the two of them giggling, attempting to suppress their laughter. That made him blush even more, and he fled up the hill.

*

Author's note: While this started out as a simple Halloween story, it is turning into a full blown novel. I'm posting the first few chapters for the Halloween contest. The rest still has to be written out.

The rest is in production. In Chapter 5, Tom is making the porn movie, but first he must undergo a humiliating initiation. In Chapter 6, a private party for some Japanese tourists goes horribly wrong. After that -- it's still open to change. Let's just say that Tom, Karina, Brian and Laurie (yes, Laurie) are all in a downward spiral. I'm not going to say much more and spoil it. I'm not sure if the rest is going to be here or on Club Lighthouse -- Terrie may want to pick it up over there. 



The Descent Ch. 05



Author's note:

Do to popular demand, I am posting this next chapter on Literotica. I apologize for the delay -- I was in the middle of writing this when I went off to Tanzania for a couple of weeks. Some of this chapter was written on airplanes and in the Amsterdam airport. 

Hopefully, I'll have the rest of the novel completed by year end. 

* * * *

He was waiting outside, shivering a little in the morning fog, when Karina pulled into his driveway in a little two seat roadster. Like the yacht, he though, if you had to ask the cost ... It had diplomatic plates. That much of her story, it seemed, might be true. Another car pulled in behind it, large and black, its windows so dark they hid whoever was inside. He shivered, even more, wondering who might be inside that car.

He had decided, irrationally, that he didn't want her to see how he had locked the front door and secreted the key under a small rock nearby. No watch, no keys, no wallet. He had even removed his wedding ring. No socks even, just the slip on shoes he used around the yard. He was glad now, that he had been so cautious.

She unfolded herself out of her little car and inspected him. She was wearing a raincoat, not buttoned shut, loosely belted to show that there was nothing underneath it. "Good," she said, rubbing the fuzz that was left on his head, "good." She rubbed her hand across his face, his head, his chest, assuring that they were smooth. She sniffed under his armpits. She put a hand under his shorts, triggering an immediate erection. That hand went back to feel how loose his asshole was, still greased with the lube. He blushed at the thought of his unseen audience, in that other vehicle.

"Very good." She noticed his embarrassment. "What, you are already blushing like a virgin? What do you think you will be doing, once we arrive?"

"Fucking," he said, trying to be cocky.

"Being fucked," she corrected. "You do not understand how you have been trained?"

"I understand."

"You will be fucked in all possible ways. You will be fucked in ways that do not seem possible. You well be well rewarded for your efforts." She paused. "Well, are you getting in the car?"

"Yes."

She had put down a towel to cover the leather seat. "Be careful," she said. "This is my husband's car. He is very protective of it."

"He permits you to drive it?"

She snorted. "None of this is done with the permission of my husband. Come, let us proceed."

"What about Brian?"

"He will arrive on his own."

He had expected that they would turn right at the entrance of the neighbourhood, to go down to the main highway, but instead she went left, back into the woods. There wasn't much up that way, at least not this time of day, this time of year. No snow yet for the ski center. Too chilly for the fair. There had been Halloween hayrides for a few weeks, in the evening, but they were over now.

"You film here?" It was a silly question. As they pulled into the central square of the fairgrounds, there were a dozen people waiting for them.

"What do you think? Take off your shorts." She looked at the muddy ground outside the car. "You can retain the shoes."

Everyone else was fully clothed. Rather heavily clothed, for that matter. She saw his hesitation. "It is tradition," she said. "You will understand." She paused. "I must present you, for evaluation."

"Evaluation?"

"To determine that you will be suitable."

"Your word is not enough?"

"My friend, I do not finance these ventures. I am, how do you say it, an employee? My recommendation has great influence, but I do not make the final decisions." She turned his face so that he was looking directly into those dark eyes. "You will do well for me." He could not tell if it was an assurance, or a command.

He pulled off the shorts, and got out of the car, provoking a few whistles from the onlookers. Karina took his arm and led him over to a large, burly man with a ragged grey beard. He was wearing a chequered beret, smoking a cigar. Impersonating a director, Tom thought. The man had seen too many old movies. He thought he was Orson Welles. The men who had been in the car trailing Karina had joined him -- two burly men in dark suits. The kind of men you imagined with pistols in a shoulder holster underneath that suit jacket.

"Karina," he said, with an accent that seemed Russian, "what have you brought for us today?" He walked up, Tom assumed for a handshake, but instead he stuck his hand under Tom's balls. He stroked enough to provoke an erection. "Not bad." He ran his hands over Tom's arms and shoulders. "Nice smooth muscles. Like a woman. Slap some breasts on him, he'll do nicely."

"Do not be deceived," Karina said, "he is very strong."

"He has used his superior strength upon you?" It was one of the guards who snarled that. She had a swollen lip from where Tom had slapped her. Karina winced, Tom blushed. "Bastard!" The slap hit Tom's face so unexpectedly that he was simply stunned.

"Sergei!" the director snapped.

"I do not like men who use their strength upon women. Perhaps," the guard snarled, "it would be of interest to see how well you fare against the strength of a real man."

The guard made another swing, but this time Tom was not as unprepared. He stepped inside the blow and delivered a knee to the man's belly. The guard doubled over in pain and surprise, and Tom was about to kick the inviting target his nose presented, but Karina stepped in between them. The other guard had his gun out. It would have been pointed at Tom if she had not been in the way.

"Stop it!" Karina repeated. She seemed very calm, but no one else was breathing. One of the staff was filming. She shifted position to get a better angle, and the gun wandered over in her direction.

"Sergei, my friend, I know you are attempting to defend me, but you are not being helpful. Perhaps," Karina added, seeing how Tom was bristling still, "we should proceed with the initiation. It could possibly assist in working off this excess of male hormones."

That, at least, was enough to convince the second guard to put his gun away. The two of them were laughing, trading remarks in Russian, words that Tom had never learned in his class in high school. They were starting to take off their clothes.

"Initiation?" Tom asked. "What initiation?" 

It was, at best, a rhetorical question. The guards had removed their suit jackets, revealing, as he had expected, holsters underneath. They were in the process of pulling their pants down, forcing them off with some difficulty over clunky, mud stained shoes. They were both wearing boxers underneath, which they had pulled down just enough to reveal their genitals. Actually, it was a blessing, he thought, that they had not removed more clothing. One was slightly obese, the other enormously so -- huge bellies, legs like hairy tree trunks, the rest mercifully hidden by their white dress shirts.

My God, he thought to himself, what am I doing here? He had loved playing the woman for Karina -- beautiful Karina, even more enticing with that big purple cock jutting out of her. And Brian, smooth, thin, almost delicate, with those lovely little breasts. Women, he liked women, and if the woman happened to have a dick, all the better. But an actual male -- fat, hairy, ugly, smelly -- how could anyone want that? 

You are being paid as a woman. That's what Karina had said, and he had shrugged it off. He hadn't thought about the implications. Well, hadn't he watched enough clips of pretty girls being fucked by disgusting looking men? Why had he thought this would be different? But he had imagined Brian, or Karina, or some really well built guy, one of those muscular porn stars who looked like -- him. Not these burly, surly ... God, there was no way he was going to submit to these cheap bullies. He'd die first.

Karina was pushing him down to kneel in the mud. It was all too obvious what the initiation was going to consist of.

"This is bullshit!" He tried to get up again, and she kicked him, knocking his legs out from under him. "I never agreed to this!"

"Tom!" she was whispering harshly in his ear, "what did you think you would be doing! You are here to accept penises within your body, to promote ejaculations. You are being paid to do that."

Paid to do it. Paid to be a woman, not even a woman, a cheap whore. Well, maybe at least not so cheap. "Show me," he snarled, "the fucking money!"

"Ah, that is a good one!" The director was enjoying all this. "The fucking money! The money, literally, to be fucked. Here my friend!" He pulled out a wad of bills. Tom riffled through them. Twenty five twenty dollar bills, all worn and dirty.

"These cannot be traced," the director said. "They were contributed to the G-strings of young ladies. Or, in some cases, directly to their cunts!"

Tom realized he had no place to put the money. He handed to Karina, who handed it back to the director.

"You must pass the initiation first," she said. "After that, you will receive half."

"On your knees, petuh!" The guard slapped him again. "Beg me for my cock in your mouth!"

"Fuck you!" 

"Tom!" Karina hissed. "This is not a game! You must do this properly!"

A motorcycle roared into the square -- Brian with a girl, or what appeared to be a girl, behind him, both in leather jackets and jeans. "Great!" the girl said, "we missed it!"

"We have not begun," Karina said. "Tom here is about to beg Sergei for the honour to suck his cock. Are you not Tom?"

Tom was weeping with shame. "Relax," Brian said. "We've all done it."

"You have?"

"It is a tradition, a ritual," Karina whispered. "The guards must make it hard on you. You must prove that you are worthy."

Tom took a deep breath and knelt down on the mud. 

"Ah Karina," the director sighed, "you have bewitched another one. It must be the gypsy blood."

The guard was scowling at him.

"You must beg him," Karina whispered. "It is, how do you say, customary."

"Sergei, will you allow me to suck your cock? Please?"

"That's better," the guard growled. For all that buildup, he was tiny and flaccid. It seemed that the crowd around them was making him nervous. The smell of him was enough to make Tom gag-- the sharp bitter smell of sweat, not from exertion, but from terror. The man was trembling, not visibly, but Tom could feel the belly shaking, the heart fluttering. 

"Back off!" Kari motioned the onlookers back with a harsh whisper. "Give them some room! Tom, lick his balls!"

"What?" Tom mumbled, with that cock still in his mouth, and was rewarded with another slip.

"Lick my balls, petuh! Put your fingers there," the guard put his hand over Tom's, guided it back to press against his asshole. "Yes, like that, just gently,."

"Ah, Sergei," the other guard jibed, "does your wife does this for you?"

"No, but your wife does." That made Tom laugh, and he was rewarded with another slap. "Pay attention to your work, petuh. Our conversations are of no concern to such as you."

Tom stuck that finger in a little, he wiggled it, and the guard sprang to attention, to roars of approval from the onlookers. "Give it to him!" someone yelled, and Sergei tried to cram himself down Tom's throat. The angle was wrong; Tom had to crouch down even lower to get his head turned up. He couldn't get himself relaxed properly. And the tip of the guards cock was rough, almost calloused. It was like a rasp trying to bore its way into the back of Tom's mouth. It was battering against him, bruising him, choking him, gagging him.

"Sergei," Karina's voice was urgent, "back off a little. Give him a chance."

Thank you, thank you, Tom thought. He took a deep breath, he stuck out his tongue, he yawned. He closed his eyes and imagined that it was Brian, lovely Brian, that was invading him. His throat parted, the penis slid on through. It's okay, he thought, it's going to be okay. But it wasn't okay. Brian had been hairless, but Tom now had his nose jammed up against that fat, hairy belly. The guy was trying to pull him by the hair -- but it was too short. So his ears were grabbed instead, holding his head in place as that belly beat frantically into Tom's nose. Tom could feel his oesophagus bulging as that cock went up and down within it. His throat wasn't designed for that kind of abuse. Something was going to rupture, and he was going to die like that, with a penis halfway down to his stomach.

"Boje moy!" The director was staring at that vibrating bulge, "Karina, you have trained him well! My God, I wish my wife could do that!"

"Send her to me, Andrei. I will be glad to train her."

"Oh no, I will not let you put her under your spell!"

"Are you afraid she will make you learn to take it like a man?"

"Perhaps."

The guard gave one last thrust. Tom gagged as he felt the hot cum against the rawness of his throat. The guard did not withdraw, he was straining, and Tom braced himself for a second shot, this time of urine. But nothing happened. The guard gave a grunt, it was hard to tell if it was disgust or satisfaction, pulled himself out, and tucked his cock back into his boxers. There was a round of applause. Tom started to choke, to gag, and then he was puking, dry heaving into the mud. That provoked more cheers.

That, Tom thought, was really, really disgusting. The applause from the onlookers was not helping a bit. He drew himself back up to his knees to wait with horror as the second guard waddled towards him. The man was enormously fat, his hairy belly hanging down under his shirt, so low it almost covered his cock. Getting his face anywhere near that was going to make him puke again. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his mouth. He was rewarded with another slap.

"No," the man growled. "Not so easily. I want to fuck you like the petuh that you are. Turn around." Tom did that, gratefully, crouching on all fours, but a kick sent him sprawling into the mud. "Lie there like the pig you are." The guard jumped on him, knocking the wind out of him, and grabbed his balls to pull his ass up. A grunt, and the man attempted to impale him. Thank goodness, he thought, that he had prepared for this. But he was tense. In spite of himself, he resisted, and it hurt. It hurt a lot. He let out a yelp, and the guard gave a grunt of satisfaction. His sessions with Karina and Brian had not prepared him for this. Relax, he told himself, relax. He'd had a dildo twice the size of that prick inside him half an hour before, no problem. But now his inner ring was in spasm. He was gripping so hard the guard lost his erection. He was forced back out, to the derisive laughter of the onlookers. 

"Petuh!" A slap against his ass, so hard it made him gasp, a finger shoved roughly within him. Then, the penis was inside him, all the way, in one stroke. That provoked another cheer from the crowd, as he felt that huge belly hit his buttocks. It was like being beaten on the ass with a two hundred pound down pillow. The force of it was bruising him as it crushed him against the ground. He couldn't even feel the cock inside of him, but the force of that belly was unbearable. And the guy couldn't come. He had started out so hard he got winded, running out of steam, drenching Tom with sweat

Finally, there was a grunt of satisfaction or exhaustion, and then he had three hundred pounds, at least, lying motionless on top of him. There were little bits of gravel mixed into the mud, and they were being imbedded into his skin. He couldn't breathe.

There was the sound of a kick, hopefully to the guy's balls, and the weight was gone. He stirred and got up. His back was drenched in the guard's sweat, the front of him was completely covered with mud. He was shivering. He was, against all logic, sporting a huge erection. Cheers were greeting him.

"Ah, my friend," Karina said, "you have done well! Come, let us clean up and get some refreshments." She reached behind him. He realized that there was something stuck in his ass. Wipes, like in the doctor's office. No -- it was a bill, a twenty dollar bill, soiled somewhat with shit and semen. Karina sniffed at it, made a face, and placed it gingerly into a pocket of her raincoat. "A tip," she said, "from Sasha."

At that point, Tom knew that his degradation was complete. In less than a week, he had descended completely, to the very lowest level of hell. In a way, the thought gave him comfort. There was nowhere to go but up.

He stepped onto a paved sidewalk, and one of the crew sprayed him with a hose. That was what passed as a shower -- well, why not? No need for modesty. The water was not as cold as he might have expected, but it was not particularly warm. No towels. No clothes, either. He went inside a barnlike structure they were using as the staging area, wet and naked. Someone handed him a cup of coffee. Everyone else was sitting on picnic tables scattered in a rough semicircle. He looked for a spot without too many splinters, and sat down, gingerly. His butt was sore, his throat was chafed. The day had barely started.

"This morning," the director was saying, "we will shoot two episodes. The first will feature Tom and Brian. The second will feature Tom, Karina, and Brenda." He nodded to the girl who had ridden in on the back of Brian's motorcycle. Girl friend? Girl at all? She was tall, skinny, long red hair, jacket open now to reveal a tank top. Boobs, yeah, she had them. So did her boyfriend. 

"Now," the director said, "for the first scene, Brian is going to be a little girl. Please, Brian, open your shirt. Yes, those budding little breasts will be perfect. We will provide you with a pigtailed wig, false braces, white blouse and chequered skirt, white socks, and sneakers. Yes, yes, put them on. Tom, you will be a dirty old man. It should not be a difficult role for you. You will have this grey wig, this beard, yes, and this raincoat. Your own shoes should be adequate."

Brian had already gotten himself into costume.

"Isn't he the perfect little school girl?" The director was chortling with delight. "Open your blouse, show us your budding little tits. Yes, you are perfect."

"That is really, really sick," Tom said.

"Oh, my friend, you will enjoy this. Now, Brian will be sitting innocently on a bench, on the side of the square. You will approach him, and offer him a piece of candy. But of course, he will discover something else to lick.

"Now, Brian, it is important that you remember to open your blouse, so that we can give the full impression of your pigtails, your braces, and those tiny little tits. You will give Tom a very impressive blow job. Tom, it is required that you do not ejaculate at this time. Do you understand?"

"Yes." 

"Very well. You will, upon my signal, decide that you wish to fuck the little girl instead. You will lift up the skirt, and discover that all is not as you expected. You will content yourself with fucking the orifice that is available. Again, it is important that you continue until instructed otherwise, without ejaculation. Brian, if you wish to ejaculate during this time, you may do so, in fact it would be desirable, but you must be able to do so again later on."

"No problem," Brian said.

"Good. Now, at my signal, Tom, you will withdraw from Brian. We will then do some makeup, if needed, to ensure that your penis appears to be quite stained. You will then place it back into Brian's mouth. Brian, I want to see that penis bobbing within your throat, the way Sergei's was within Tom's. It is a quite impressive thing, that you are able to accomplish. However, Tom, when you are ready to ejaculate, you must withdraw and splatter on to his face. Can this be done?"

"Sure." 

"Good. It is really very simple. After that, of course, the two of you will reverse roles, following much the same pattern."

"What are we doing?" Brenda asked. She had been following Tom's and Brian's script with great attention.




The Descent Ch. 05



Lena was hypnotised by Yvette's story. Repelled by it and at the same time hungry for more. The account of the party in the Avenue de Roule had a physical effect on her. She had become a vessel for feelings which a few days before she had not known existed and yet which now they were here threatened to overwhelm her.

When the day finally dawned Yvette took time with her preparations. She drew a deep bath and as she soaped and oiled her young limbs found her thoughts drifting back to her encounter with D. In the days following the party, ashamed of what had happened she tried at first to put it from her mind. It was no use. Memories of the dark room and the heavy furniture came back unbidden. She remembered him turning towards her, a particular moment when the angle of his head, and the deliberateness of his movements, combined to produce a powerlessness in her that even now could make her heart stop. The sensation ambushed her once more as she lay in the bath and deep under water she felt herself grow moist. It was the sense of inevitability that undid her. The knowledge that she could do nothing to stop what was about to happen. She could no more prevent it than she could raise her hand and hold back an avalanche. Stretched out in the warm embrace of the water she longed to let her fingers stray between the folds of her wet lips but conscious of what was to come she held back. She would keep herself for D, indeed it seemed he already owned the moment she longed for and to spend it before their meeting would have felt like an act of betrayal. 

Since the party something had changed in her lovemaking with her fiancé. She loved him no less -- she was going to spend her life with him after all -- but for the first time she had begun counterfeiting her release in order to please him. She was shocked to discover how easily he was fooled and found herself despising him for it . Unwilling to let this state of affairs continue she had begun to summon the image of D to her aid. Now she cried out in genuine passion, not at her fiance's bidding, but at D's as night after night she raised her hand and let the avalanche take her. 

Yvette dried herself carefully. She trimmed and scented the hair between her legs, and then in a gesture she was sure would please him, lightly rouged the lips of her cunt.

She took time over her dressing. She chose each item with care, holding it up to the mirror and trying to anticipate his reaction. She paid particular attention to her panties, selecting a pair made of lace so fine that their touch felt like no more than a warm exhalation against her skin. She smiled to herself as she imagined D's response and the moment he was forced to acknowledge that she looked even more desirable dressed like this than naked as his note requested. When she was ready, she looked at herself in the mirror, and allowed herself a moment's pleasure at what she saw.

She left the house in plenty of time and made the short journey to the Rue Chevert. Arriving early she stopped for coffee in the very café where she sat now with Lena. Somehow during the preparations for their meeting she had managed to block out the promise that she would be caned. Or rather to hold it apart and to one side, so that as she dressed for the man she must now think of as her lover, it was no more than a shadow on the horizon, a distant sense of anticipation mixed with the heady scent of her perfume. Now as she waited alone at her café table she tasted a moment of simple fear. How would she react? Was it the pain that frightened her, or the humiliation? Unable to resolve these questions she simply put them from her mind and waited.

She was determine to arrive exactly as he had asked at 3 o'clock so with two minutes showing on the clock above the door, she left her table, the coffee untouched, and walked the last hundred yards to her rendezvous. 

A large black car pulled up alongside as she reached the hotel. The door opened to receive her and dipping her head she joined D in the back seat. She could see nothing of the driver but his broad back as he concentrated on the road ahead.

She expected D to compliment her on her time keeping but evidently he accepted it as no more than his due.

"We are going for a drive," he said.

They drove in silence for a while. D looked out of the window and made no further attempt at conversation. Yvette saw the familiar streets of the centre give way to anonymous suburban sprawl, content to stay in this suspended moment lulled by the sense of forward motion. 

She was not sure of how it began. But slowly she became aware that D's attention had shifted. He had turned away from the window and was staring at her. From the corner of her eye she saw him turn in his seat to face her. She glanced up at him. His face was dark with disapproval.

"Lift your skirt," he said abruptly.

His tone was harsh. Shocked by the sudden change in his manner she hesitated.

"You have had my note. Your instructions were clear. Lift your skirt."

She blushed and started to stammer an explanation. D cut her off at once.

"Lift your skirt, damn you!"

This time she did as he asked, sliding the hem of her skirt above her stocking tops to reveal the pale white flesh of her thighs and higher still her soft mound encased in fine black lace. Even at this late stage she was sure the picture that presented itself to D's gaze would appease him, and melt the displeasure that had appeared in his face.

She was disabused by a sharp stinging slap on her cheek. And before she could cry out D's hand had seized the lace of her panties and was tearing at the fabric. The force of his assault lifted her bodily from the seat as she felt the material give and begin to tear. With two more sharp tugs the lace parted and came away and she was deposited on her back in the footwell. D loomed above her.

"Open your legs! Open them!"

Frightened now, Yvette did her best in her awkward position to obey. The back of the adjacent seat got in the way and she struggled to raise herself from the floor. D reached forward and down between her struggling legs. She felt his hand forcing its way between her thighs. She wasn't ready to receive him. But it made no difference. He pushed harder, forcing his fingers into her, first one and then a second, until she was pinned to the floor of the car.

"If you are asked to do something you do it. Do you understand?"

She felt brutally violated by his hand. Unable to speak.

He slapped her again, another stinging blow, and pushed harder into her. "I said, Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes -- I'm sorry, I --"

"You do not choose to do something different. You do not choose to disobey me. It's very simple. You do as you are asked." 

His fingers were asserting his rights over her. Forcing themselves deep into the cunt she had so carefully prepared for him. It was powerful gesture, at once dismissive and deeply humiliating. For a long moment he held her there, pinned to the floor. Then he withdrew his hand. 

"You disappoint me. I had expected more of you. Stop the car."

The driver brought the car to a halt at once.

D leaned across and pushed open her door.

"Get out. Now."

"Please --," Yvette started to say.

"Get out!" 

He turned to look out of the adjacent window.

A moment later the door slammed and D drove away, leaving a stunned Yvette staring through her tears at the disappearing car.

Lena, eyes wide with disbelief, reached across the table and took Yvette's hands in hers.

"He did that? He really did that?"

Yvette smiled softly.

"I don't remember how I got home," she said. 

In the days that followed Yvette's emotions were in turmoil. She was in turn, angry, tearful, and afraid. One evening she almost blurted out the whole story to her fiancé, but watching him chewing contentedly on a chicken bone, she realised a world had opened up between them, and that the chances of him understanding what she had gone through were non existent. So instead she said nothing. Weeks passed. Slowly her anger subsided and she was able to return to her normal routine with a degree of equanimity. But this did not last. 

After a while she was overtaken by a growing sense of unease. At first she could not account for it. Exactly what she felt was difficult to formulate, other than in the simplest terms. If she had to explain it, all she could have said was that something was not as it should be. Something was wrong.

Her thoughts drifted back as they always did to the darkened room with D. At the moment he had taken her she had surrendered all responsibility. It had been entirely stripped away. And that had somehow felt unaccountably right. As if the wheels of her existence had shifted slightly and something had dropped into place. It was as if for a moment in surrendering her will, she had found herself.

At this realisation she felt the anger she had directed at D drain away. After all, what had happened? She had disobeyed him. And he had punished her. There was a symmetry here, a simple justice even a child could understand. But that he should have dismissed her so finally - that she could not bear. She was under no illusion that she could repair the damage she had done by her disobedience. But at least she could acknowledge that she had been wrong and perhaps in doing this she could set the world right again, and get on with her life.

The following day she handed a short note to the father of her pupil and asked if he would be kind enough to forward it to his friend. 

D -- the note began - forgive me for writing to you now. I wish only to say that I understand how wrong I was to disobey your instructions and that I fully comprehend the reason for your displeasure. I do not expect you to think more kindly of me for saying so - and of course I do not expect a reply. Please accept my profound apologies for treating you with such lack of respect. It was unforgivable. Yours, Yvette.

The next morning as she left the flat she found the car waiting for her. D opened the door and she got in. He took her to a room in the Hotel Nancy, tied her hands to the cross rail of a chair and thrashed her until the skin broke on her cheeks and back.

So began the most intense relationship of her young life. 



The Descent Ch. 05



"Ah, you, Karina and Tom are going to be lesbians. Except that Tom, of course, will have a surprise in store for you. At that point, you two ladies will beat the shit out of him, and impale him with your dildos. For this role, Tom, you will need to acquire breasts." At that point the props person stepped forward with a box of different articles required for the shoot, and the director pulled out a of silicone stick on breasts and tossed them at Tom. "Here, try these on. Yes, those fit quite nicely. Doesn't he make an attractive woman?"

Tom stood up and looked at himself in a mirror propped up against the wall. Those boobs did look disturbingly good on him. A big ass -- his wife had always teased him about his big ass, even though it was solid muscle. And big pectorals, too, from a lot of swimming. Add the boobs -- and he was a knockout. "The color is wrong," he objected. He was starting to swell at the sight of his own beauty.

"We will coat all of your body with a uniform colour. You will be a Latina, dark brown in skin hue." A make-up artist stepped forward with her make-up kit, opened it and looked through the assortment of foundation liquid and theatrical make-up for the right shade. 

"Won't it rub off?"

"Ah, you will not be doing any penetration. You will be required to ejaculate, solely from the stimulation of a dildo."

"Up my ass?"

"Of course, up your ass." The director frowned. "What do you think we are talking about?"

"He can do it," Karina assured him.

"I want to get fucked," Brenda objected.

"My dear, if that is your interest, you can indulge it with the staff while we are doing the first shoot. I'm sure that you can find someone who will accommodate you."

"I want to get fucked," the girl repeated, "by Tom."

"Oh, very well," the director sighed. He handed her a crumpled sheaf of papers. "Here is the script for the second shoot. Revise it as you wish while we are doing the first one. Tom, stop admiring yourself. Remove the breasts, for the moment, and put on the beard and wig."

One of the staff, Tom assumed it was the director of photography was staring at a laptop. "Move your wig over a little to the left, Tom, pull it down a bit. That's good."

"They have cameras built in," Brian explained, "for the point of view shots."

"Yes," the director gushed, "it is a wonderful innovation. Still, they cannot capture everything. Come, let us begin." 

They went back out into the square. The director called out "back to one!"

"What does that mean?" Tom whispered.

"It means go to starting position." Brian sat down on a bench. 

"Action!" the director yelled. "No, no! Cut" The director was annoyed now. "Don't just sit there! Why are you sitting on the bench?"

"I'm waiting for Tom to fuck me."

"No! No! You are a little girl. Well, not really a little girl, but someone who is not really a little girl attempting to look somewhat like someone who really is a little girl. So you must ask yourself -- why would a little girl be sitting alone on a park bench?"

"She's waiting for some dirty old man to come along and open up his raincoat?"

"No! No! Really, Brian, your mind is totally in the gutter! Little girls do not sit on park benches for that purpose."

"Okay!" Brian was getting irritated, "just why is a little girl going to be sitting by herself on a park bench?"

"Maybe she's lost," Tom suggested. 

"Yes, excellent!" The director was beaming with enthusiasm. "Brian, when you are sitting on the park bench, initially, you will appear to be in a deeply pessimistic state. Now, Tom, you will approach. Back to one, and, action!"

"Hey, little girl," Tom said, trying to keep from laughing, "want a piece of candy?"

"No! No! Cut! Tom, my friend, have you ever done any acting?"

"Summer camp. I was the lead in West Side Story one year."

"Oh," the director sneered, "we will have to arrange a scene for you to sing Maria."

"My throat is sore." That provoked some laugher from the crew.

"Very well. Now, when you approach this little girl, you will express concern. You will ask her if she is okay. She will shake her head. You will ask her if she is alone, and she will nod, regretfully. You will express still more concern, but your inner delight at her vulnerability will be evident. You must both feel the situation, the angst of the characters. Shall we begin again?" Tom and Brian stood in their respective starting points, ready. "Please, be sure to follow the script. Now, Action!" One of the crew yelled "rolling!" Tom approached Brian while the boom operator hovered close by holding up a fish pole microphone. 

"Hello, little girl, are you all right?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'm lost, and all alone."

"Oh, that's a shame. Here, would you like a piece of candy?"

"My mommy told me never to take candy from strangers."

"Oh, that's too bad. What about this, then?"

"No! No! Cut!" The director burst in hastening to instruct Tom again. "Tom! You must be turned so that the camera can adequately pick up your penis as it emerges from the raincoat. Now, this is the initial impression. Your erection must be magnificent. Do you understand? You must be throbbing with desire. You must not be half limp."

"Sorry," Tom said. "I guess I'm thinking too hard about the script." And that camera just next to his knee, pointed up as his groin.

"You must think of something more stimulating. Think of those pigtails, those braces, those tiny little tits. Yes, yes! You are a natural! Now, put that back inside the raincoat and reveal it once more."

"Oh, that's too bad. What about this, then?"

"My mommy never told me ..." Brian stopped. He was giggling too hard to speak.

"Cut! Brian! Brian!" The director was frantic now. "I thought you were a professional!"

"Can't we just fuck?"

"Brian, Brian," the director sighed. "I do not make these movies just to fuck. Please, respect the script. Please, resume from the point where you just stopped."

Brian took a deep breath. "My mommy never said anything about that. Do I put it in my mouth?" The director gave him a thumbs up.

"Lick it first," Tom said.

"Like this?"

"No more dialog," the director hissed. "Take your time. Brian, open your blouse up. No, let Tom unbutton it for you. Good. Make sure we can see those lovely little tits. Now, turn your head this way so that we can see those braces. Oh, never mind. Tom's wig camera will pick them up very nicely. Look up at Tom, give him a nice smile. Now, Tom, make this a dramatic entry. Slide all the way into his throat in one smooth motion."

Tom felt the warmth of Brian's mouth, teeth just scraping a little as they slid long the shaft. No matter how contrived the situation, the pleasure was real. 

"Little girl, little girl," he was muttering it involuntarily. "Swallow my fucking cock, you fucking little whore."

"I said no dialog," the director objected.

"Swallow it!" Tom grabbed those enticing little braids as he shoved against that innocent little head. Brian's wig came flying off.

"Cut! Cut!" The director was frantic. Everyone else was roaring with laughter. "Please, resume your positions. Wig on head, cock down throat. Tom, you should not be violent at this time. Later, when you have discovered the deception, you can fuck the shit out of him. But at this point, you have seduced a fragile little girl. You will treat her as you would your own daughter."

That was enough to make Tom quiver with indignation. "You think I would do this to my daughter?"

"Tom, my friend, not you, your character," Karina broke in. "The dirty old man who would do such a thing to an innocent little girl would possibly do similarly to his own child. Such things," she added, "are not unheard of."

Tom gave her a long look. "Karina, I'm sorry."

"You are sorry?" She might as well have slapped him. "Some day, perhaps, we will have a reckoning of self pity and regret. For the moment, let us proceed with the business at hand."

"I don't even have a daughter," Tom objected.

"A son then. Imagine how gently you would train your son."

"What? God!"

"Please," the director was becoming impatient. "We need to have consistent light. We do not have forever to do this scene. If not your child, your wife then. Would you not be gentle and considerate, placing your penis within the mouth of your beloved wife?"

"No," Tom admitted, "I do it as hard as she'll let me."

"Andrei," Karina broke in, "this is not helpful."

"Ah, very well, just be gentle. You must imagine for yourself a reason for this restraint."

Tom sighed. He looked down at those braces, those pigtails yet again. He was embarrassed at how he was quivering with desire. He opened his raincoat to whistles of appreciation. Brian gave him one long, tender lick, and opened his mouth. Tom slid in very gently, very smoothly, until those braces were pressed against his balls. There were gasps at how readily Brian had accepted him.

"Tom!" the director hissed, "move your legs back a little. We must perceive the presence of your penis within the throat. Yes, that is very good. Now, how does that feel?"

"Warm, wet, tight."

"And how does it feel if you slide a bit within that warm wet tightness? Gently, very gently,"

"It feels wonderful."

"Let that bliss be evident in your expression. Yes, does not this promote feelings of tenderness towards the one who gives you such pleasure? Express that tenderness, stroke his head, very gently, do not dislodge the wig. Good! Good!"

They did that for a while, Tom moving very gently deep within the boy's throat. He realized that they were no longer acting. He was truly making love.

"I think I'm getting jealous," Brenda said. Brian was stroking Tom's balls, Tom was petting Brian's head, as if he were a favourite dog.

"Good!" The director's voice was very businesslike. "Excellent! Now, your feelings of tenderness will overwhelm you, and you will withdraw so that you can share a loving kiss. In the course of that kiss, Tom, your hands will wander beneath the little schoolgirl skirt, and you will find a surprise. Now, what will your emotions be?"

"Shock, surprise, betrayal?" Tom had not taken the director's suggestion to withdraw. But Brian now pulled away so that he could voice an opinion.

"Why not amusement?"

"Yes, all of these, in succession. Tom, you must be very expressive in your face. You must indicate the progression of your emotions."

"Anger," Karina broke in, "there should be anger. He should be in a rage, he should rape Brian for his impertinence."

"Well, of course. Why would Brian engage in such a deception if he did not desire to provoke such a reaction, if he did not desire to be raped."

"If he desires it," Tom objected, "it's not really rape."

"Ah, you are beginning to appreciate the subtle complexities of the situation!"

"Yes, Andrei, you are a true artist." Tom could not tell from Karina's tone if she was being sarcastic.

"Come," the director was urging them, "begin now with the kiss. First, assume your previous position. Tom," he chided, "you have lost your erection once again,"

"Perhaps," Karina could not contain her merriment any longer, "the subtleties of the scene have overwhelmed him."

"Well," Andrei was taking her seriously, "let's remember that we are basically sucking and fucking. Now Tom, think about pigtails and braces and tiny little tits. Yes, it is amazing."

"He really is a dirty old man," Brenda suggested.

"You have wilted him with that remark," Karina sighed. "Tom, it is only a game. In this game, it is permitted to desire these things. Yes, much better."

"Good, now, withdraw, and tenderly draw up Brian for a kiss -- no, kneeling down as you have done is much better."

"Now," Brenda said, "I am really jealous. Brian, get your fucking tongue out of his fucking mouth."

"They are in love," Karina could not hide her contempt. "See how tenderly they caress each other."

"He never kisses me like that," Brenda sighed, "at least not on the mouth. He kisses my cunt like that."

"Tom prefers assholes," Karina was clinical in her observation. "See how his tongue is plunged into Brian's mouth now. He was done so similarly to my asshole."

"Oh, is that nice? Brian has never done that."

"Not for you, perhaps."

"I believe," Andrei broke in, "that you diminishing the tenderness of the moment with your remarks. Brian, please attempt not to giggle, even though you have been provoked. Good. Now, Tom, move your hand tenderly up Brian's thigh. Yes, slyly shift away that little schoolgirl skirt. Excellent. Ah, yes, Brian, you are taking his hand, not to resist, but to urge it upward. Yes! Excellent. Now the shock as the hand encounters something unexpected. Yes, throw back the concealment of the skirt. No! Cut! Cut!"

"What's the matter?" Brian asked.

"What is the matter? What is the matter? Brian, what you have revealed is," the director paused, "disappointing."

Brian looked down at his penis with some surprise. "Sorry. I really am quite aroused."

"Well, you must provide tangible evidence of your arousal."

"I'm sorry," the boy repeated.

"Perhaps," Karina suggested, "it is the tenderness of the moment that has distracted him."

"Tom," the director said, "resume the kiss, and start to move your hand up Brian's leg again. But this time, fondle him for a moment before pulling back the skirt. Make sure that he is adequately aroused. No, be subtle, don't just jerk him off. Ah, that is better. Now, Tom, what would your next instinct be?"

"Suck him off?"

"Well, perhaps. He presents such a pretty little prick, it is difficult to avoid that temptation. But for this scene you will be disappointed and angry at his deception. You will turn him over on the bench and fuck him vigorously up the ass."

"Slap him? Spank him?"

"Do as you would in real life."

"I don't like that," Brian objected.

"No," Brenda echoed, "I do not like that, not at all. We are definitely not into slapping and spanking."

"My friends," the director sighed, "we are not questioning your personal choices. We are attempting to provide an entertaining and somewhat plausible sequence of events. We need to do this," he glanced at his watch, "within the next half hour, or what we have done so far will be wasted. That includes Brian's thorough fucking of Tom."

"I thought," Brian objected," you wanted me to come this way."

"In that position, your ejaculation would be hard to capture. Better not to try. Tom, you need to express some difficulty getting your penis within that asshole -- you have never done this before. Ah, perhaps you have."

"Of course he has," Karina broke in. "I trained him myself."

"Not in real life," the director sighed. "Within the context of this scene, perhaps the dirty old man has had some experience with boys as well. No, I prefer that it be something of a struggle. Brian, make it difficult for him."

"It hurts, if I don't relax."

"Of course it hurts."

"How would you know, Andrei?" Karina taunted. "Why don't you put yourself in Brian's position and find out for sure."

"There is no possibility of that," the director said. "I am not a petuh."

"Andrei," one of the guards could not help taunting, "you were never in the army?" That was enough to provoke a flush of anger from the director.

"Please," Karina seemed exasperated now, "enough of this male strutting."

"Remember," Andrei growled at the guards, "you are in my employ."

"There are other jobs."

"As interesting as this? With so many side benefits? You would do well to watch your manners."

There was a commotion up on top of the hill.

"What is that?" Tom was startled. "Can't be skiers."

"Paintball. Not too many, in the middle of the week." The director shrugged. "They will not disturb us."

"What if they sneak down and watch?" Tom was bothered by the idea.

"My friend," Karina seemed baffled by him, "you are doing what you are doing for public consumption. In front of people. To be seen by people. If you are ashamed of that, you should not be here."

"Let us complete this," the director said. "Quickly, if we can. The light is changing on us already."

"Don't worry about setting things up," one of the crew said to Tom, "just get yourself up, and get into his asshole. Brian, you need to be up also."

Probably, certainly, Brian had prepared himself, he had loosened himself up before coming to the set. But that had been a while ago, quite a while by now. And nothing that had happened since had served to relax him. He lay over the bench, he spread himself, Tom attempted to enter -- and could not.

"Shit," he said, "I feel like I'm back in college." He pushed harder, so hard he was beginning to compromise his erection. But to no avail. 

"Relax," Karina said. "Tom, spank him some. It will help relax him."

Tom gave the boy a tentative swat, then a harder one, hard enough that his cheeks turned red from the blow. "You like that?"

"No," Brian sighed, "I do not like that."

"Yes he does," Brenda piped up. "He really likes to have his balls slapped when I fuck him."

"Thanks a lot. Just wait until it's your turn, sweetie." Brian's objections were cut off by another slap from Tom, even harder this time.

"You enjoy that, don't you?" Karina was watching him intently, eyes glistening. Other parts of her too, most likely.

"Maybe," Tom admitted.

"You must learn to do it properly, to give pleasure along with pain. Remember how it did it to you?" The next blow landed on the space between Brian's asshole and balls. The boy gasped, then sighed.

"Lube," Tom muttered. "Maybe some lube would help."

"Tom, my friend," the director sneered, "do you think that dirty old men carry vials of personal lubricant in the pockets of their raincoats?"

"Yes," Karina said, "why would they not? If I were a dirty old man, I would supply myself with lubricants and prophylactics."

"Prophylactics." The thought made Tom shudder. How many diseases had he exposed himself to already?

"Do not worry, my friend, we are all very clean living." That provoked a guffaw from the guards.

"Very well," the director said, "you will place this tube in your pocket. Seeing the continued difficulty you are experiencing, you will produce it and use it to lubricate yourself. It will be a realistic touch."

"No rubber?"

"I believe that you and Brian are already quite intimate acquaintances?" That produced blushes from the two of them. "What then is the point?"

Whether it was the lube or the spanking, Tom popped right in this time.

"Brian," the director fretted, "you are supposed to be resisting." But it was to no avail. Brian was sighing in satisfaction. He was spouting fluid, a fact that one of the cameras was eager to record. Tom started to concentrate on fuelling that pleasure, pacing himself to Brian's desire, building, slowly, until the boy was hanging at the very edge, gasping, trembling, spurting like a fountain. It was unbelievable that he could be producing so much of that clear sweet fluid.

"Fuck me, harder!" Brian's sphincter clutched around Tom, and the boy ejaculated, great ropes of white cream shooting down into the mud. Tom realized that he had come also, almost absentmindedly, he had been so intent on his partner's pleasure.

"Now," Brenda said, "I am really, really jealous."

"I came," Tom said, "I'm sorry."

"It is okay," the director said. "We are out of time for this shoot. Just back out carefully and we will take a nice picture of the creampie."

"The creampie?"

"Your semen glistening in his anal cavity," Karina said. "Yes, it is very impressive."

"Well," the director said, "that's a wrap. Let's have some lunch."

"A wrap?" Tom was confused. "I thought we were going to switch."

"We have enough," Karina said, "more than enough. Really, you are quite compelling in the dominant role."




The Descent Ch. 05



You are being paid to be a woman. Abruptly, he was worried that he was not earning his keep.

"Don't worry," Brenda said, seemingly reading his thoughts. "We are going to fuck the shit out of you this afternoon, aren't we Kari?"

"Absolutely."

"I have to be home by three," Tom said. It was already almost eleven.

"Well then, we will have a very brief lunch. Perhaps," the director scowled at how shrivelled Tom had become, "too brief for you?"

"I thought I just had to lie around and get fucked."

"There has been a slight change in plans. Brenda has come up with a most ingenious scheme to allow you to participate more fully in our lesbian orgy. Show him, dearest."

"Look." She handed him a strapon, without the dildo in place. A hole had been cut through the fabric where the dildo should have gone. "Put it on. Now pull your prick though the hole -- through the metal ring. Yes, that will work. We'll slap a nice blue rubber on him."

"It does not look convincing because you are not sufficiently erect. In order for this subterfuge to succeed, you must be able to imitate a dildo.

"That's rich. A real cock imitating an imitation one."

"Yes," the director was in his glory. "You will be a man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man. Is it not glorious? Really, it is in moments like this that I realize fully that I am an artist."

"It was Brenda's idea," Karina pointed out.

"Ah, yes," that gave him a moment's pause. "But she is my pupil, is she not? My protégée? Come dear, give me a kiss. I will show you my gratitude as we eat lunch." 

"It's all right," Brenda said. "I'm fine."

"Oh no! It is not often," the director gushed, "that I feel so inspired by one of the cast. We become jaded, do we not?"

"A pity," Karina sneered.

"Yes," the director sighed, "a pity. So many beautiful bodies. So many orifices."

"Of course," Karina went on, "you feel that they are all available to you?"

"Of course. They come here to be fucked, do they not?."

"You will do it in public, as do all the others?"

"Of course." The director seemed uneasy now.

"Recorded?"

"Of course."

"Because," Karina continued, "that is what we have bargained for."

"Of course."

"All right." Brenda was stripping her clothes off, slowly, turning it into an impromptu striptease. "I'm game." She walked over to the director, knelt down, and unzipped his pants. "Andrei, darling, are you getting cold feet?"

"It is not his feet that are shrivelling," one of the guards laughed. It was the first one, the one that had been so difficult to arouse.

"Fuck you, Sergei."

"No," Brenda was on his lap now, breathing into his face now, her voice deep and sultry. "I'm the one you want to fuck, remember?"

Tom had noticed a little piercing in her nose, another on her lip. Now that she was naked, he realized that she was wearing piercings almost everywhere -- her nipples, her clit, one even, he thought, gleaming improbably near her anus.

"How do you get through airports?" he blurted out.

"What do you think? I take them off. What does that have to do with anything? I'm trying to get Andrei here interested, and you're worried about a fucking metal detector?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Look at that," Karina broke in. "It's going to work." He still had the strapon on, and he was like a dowsing rod, straining to point out Brenda.

"Later," she said. "Save it for later. Now, Andrei, Tom here knows how to make a girl feel appreciated." She had turned around now, and was starting to writhe as if she were giving him a lap dance. She took his hands and rubbed them over her breasts and belly. The way she was sitting on his lap, his groin was hidden. She was grinding her hips into to it. At last, she reached at hand down, rose up and back down, giving a little grunt of satisfaction. "Oh, that's better, isn't it? Yes. Much better." She began to ride him ever harder, rising up just enough to show how he was penetrating her. "What do you think, Brian. Are you jealous?"

"Absolutely. I've always wanted to fuck Andrei."

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" The director was convulsing with glee. "Oh, these are the moments that make my work worthwhile. Come, dearest, give me your asshole."

"My asshole?"

"Of course. Yes, that's a good girl." She shifted, spreading her knees to show how her cunt was gaping and vacant, rising up enough to reveal the director's flesh sliding with her. Not for long though, two or three thrusts, and he gave pushed her away. "Ah, yes!" Andrei sighed, "I feel young again!"

"You will be napping all afternoon," Karina growled.

"No, no, not at all. Are we ready to begin? Tom, you must apply a rubber to yourself. Yes, that is good. Really, it looks rather convincing as a dildo, does it not? Now, let us apply the breasts and the wig. Wonderful. Now, in this scene, Karina is the proprietor of a sex toy shop. Brenda will come in to shop for a dildo. They will both try on various ones, and in the process they will excite each to the extent that they will try them out on each other.

"At that point, Tom will enter the scene, seemingly arrayed as they are, and he will proceed to fuck both of them rather extensively. It is only when they turn the tables and realize that you are lacking an orifice that things get ugly. I will leave it to them to decide what torments they are going to inflict upon you."

"Double penetration," Brenda said.

"How can you do double penetration," Tom asked. "I only have one asshole."

"And we are both going to be in it. Right, Kari?"

"Perhaps. I personally do not think it is possible, but we will attempt it."

"Well, then," the director said, "let's get to it. What's the matter?"

The last question was directed to one of the crew members.

"I haven't heard the paint ballers for a while now."

"Is that not a good thing?"

"Maybe."

"Come, let us begin."

They had set up an outside stall as the dildo shop. Karina was wearing a little sundress. Brenda came in wearing one also. She started to pick out strapons. "Can I try this one on?"

"Of course."

She slipped it on under the dress.

"Take your dress off," Karina suggested. "You can't really tell what it's like with the dress on."

"Cut! Cut!" The director was fuming. "Ladies, you are not sufficiently imagining your situation. Brenda, you will not simply take off your dress, not all at once, so simply. You will slip on the strapon underneath the dress, attempting modesty, and lift the skirt of the dress furtively before the mirror. And you, Karina, will with similar discretion make furtive attempts to view Brenda's lovely little ass."

"When do I come in?" Tom was ready now. He was getting impatient.

"You must wait until they are actually fucking. Karina will be fucking Brenda with her strapon, and you will enter and penetrate the other orifice."

"Sounds like a plan."

"It sounds," Brenda grumbled, "like it is going to hurt."

"My dear, you were the one so eager to be fucked."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Perhaps," the director was smug, "our session has been enough to satisfy this craving? We can return to the original script?"

"Andrei," Karina broke in, "Brenda has worked hard to come up with this conception. Don't belittle her."

"Very well, let us begin again. Action!"

Brenda came into the stall. As she reached for the first dildo, there was a popping noise, and her face was covered with bright orange paint. Another pop, and red paint was all over the director. There were roars of laughter from behind some hay bales left over from the fright ride.

"Assholes!" One of the guards, the less obese one, had drawn his gun. There was the whine of a silencer as he shot in the direction of the hay.

"Idiot!" Tom came charging out of the shadows, "what the fuck are you doing!"

The guard fired another shot in the general direction of laughter that had turned to shrieks of terror. Tom tackled him, knocking him to the ground. "Idiot!" They wrestled for a moment or two, struggling, and Tom wound up on top, staring down at the guard. But the guard had the gun pressed against Tom's temple. 

"Idiot!" Tom slammed his forehead into the guard's nose. He heard the whistle of a bullet as it whizzed past his head. It was a good thing, he thought, that there was a silencer. He'd be deafened otherwise. "Idiot!" The guards nose was bloody, shattered. What had he read once, that a second blow would push those shards of bone into the brain? "Idiot!" He slammed his head down, once again. The guard stopped moving. His eyes were still open, staring vacantly into Tom's.

"My friend, you are either the bravest man I have ever known, or the most foolhardy." Karina had taken the guard's gun. She was pointing it now at the remaining one. "Sasha, please do not do anything foolish." The way she held the weapon made it obvious that she was quite familiar with it. A spy, Tom thought to himself, giddily, she's a spy! Or had been one.

The bigger guard grabbed his comrade by the heels and started to pull him away to their car, dragging him across the muddy square. The rest of the crew was wandering aimlessly, starting listlessly to pack up. No one wanted to be near Tom or Karina. She had found her raincoat, and she stuck to the pistol into one of the pockets.

"A pity," Karina sighed. "Sergei was a good friend."

"Was?"Tom echoed. "Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"

"It does not matter. He will not live to see the dawn, in any case."

"What?"

"My friend, there are things you do not understand. Come, we must go now."

"What about the film?"

"There will be no more film making." The way she said it, it sounded like it meant forever, not just today.

What about my money? He did not dare to ask that aloud. He didn't dare to say anything as they drove back home. It was over, he thought, it was over. He had reached bottom at last. He was going to rise back to the surface.

But he was wrong. 



The Descent Ch. 06



By now Yvette had recovered her strength. They left the café and spent an hour walking together in the sunlit streets. As they reached the Seine and turned onto the Quai de la Tournelle Yvette took Lena by the arm and went on with her story .

She had made no real attempt to hide the evidence of her time with D. They were undressing for bed some days after her visit to the Hotel Nancy when her fiancé saw a red weal at her stocking top. Drawing her closer to the light he stared in disbelief at the marks on her skin. At his insistence Yvette gave a brief account of what had happened.

His mind could not take in what she was saying. For some moments he persisted in the idea that she had been the victim of a random attack. If she hadn't prevented him he would have called the police. When he finally understood that she had gone willingly to a hotel with a stranger knowing all the time he intended to beat her his world began to crumble.

Once she had embarked on her narrative, Yvette held nothing back. He stared hollow eyed as she recounted the events at the party in the Avenue de Roule. The man who had politely asked her to accompany him, the wait in the hall, the walk to the room at the back of the house, her powerlessness when he'd taken her -- all this while her fiancé waited meekly downstairs. As the story unfolded she watched his youthly arrogance fade. He looked like a whipped dog and for the first time in her life she felt sorry for him.

She was not sure what she expected. She thought he might simply get to his feet and walk out of the room and out of her life. It was no more than she deserved. But for a while he sat on the edge of the bed his back turned saying nothing, a hurt, brooding presence, struggling to embrace his allotted portion of pain. His silence was impossible to read. When he finally spoke, his voice was empty of feeling. 

"Were you wet?"

His question was so unexpected for a moment she was unsure how to respond. 

"In the room at the party, when he took you upstairs, were you wet?"

There seemed no point in lying.

"Yes," she said.

And then she understood.

On the nightstand beside the bed lay an open zinc tube of lubricant. In the last weeks they had increasingly had to resort to its contents during their lovemaking when her own juices had refused to flow. She had dismissed these minor problems as no more than a hormonal perturbance in her monthly cycle and he had accepted her word. Now her explanation rang hollow. The little tube of cream seemed like more evidence of his failure, one more humiliation before the woman he was hoping would share the rest of his life.

"Was he big? Bigger than me?"

"Please", she said " don't --"

"Was he bigger than me?"

"No. A little perhaps. I don't know --"

He spoke quietly, all the time staring at the floor. He would not be deflected. He went on dragging the details of his humiliation out of her and fixing them in the picture that would torment him for the rest of his life.

"Were you on a bed?"

"No -- a table. A desk I think. Please don't do this."

"Tell me how he did it. Tell me exactly."

She tried to explain the details weren't important. They needed to get beyond these and talk about what to do next. But he wasn't ready. He wanted more. Yvette had no choice but to continue. 

"He lifted me onto the desk. He was very strong. He'd already taken my dress off. Before he lifted me."

"And you let him do this?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

"Then he -- I'm not sure -- he lifted me onto him."

"How? How did he do that? Tell me."

"He put his -- the head -- he put it -"

"His cock. The word is cock."

"Yes. All right. He put his cock, the tip, just on my lips and then picked me up and pulled me on to him. I didn't do anything. I couldn't. "

"So he raped you?"

"No. He didn't rape me." 

He'd turned to face her now. He was looking straight into her eyes. Yvette stared back defiantly. For a long moment they held each other's gaze. She could hear his breathing grow heavier. He was dragging air through his nose as if he'd run a marathon. Now, she thought. Now the blow has landed. Before he spoke she already knew what his next question would be. She was not mistaken.

"And did you come?"

She hesitated. But there was no way to avoid it.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I came."

She did not see his hand move. The slap knocked her sideways onto the bed. 

"Bitch!" 

Suddenly he was standing over her.

"You dirty fucking bitch!"

She tried to roll away but he scrambled after her, straddling her on the bed punctuating every word with first the flat of his hand and then when that failed to satisfy him, his fist.

"You -- dirty -- fucking -- bitch -- of -- a -- fucking - whore!"

Yvette covered her head. She had expected him to be angry but the strength of his assault surprised and frightened her.

"Don't! Please! Don't touch me --"

He went on flailing at her with his hands. And then through the fog of his anger a new idea reached him. 

"Touch you? You think I'd want to touch you now?"

"No. No, I don't --"

"I wouldn't touch a dirty cunt like yours for a thousand francs." 

Newly energized by the thought, he jumped down from the bed and wrenched at her skirt, dragging at the zip and pulling the cloth down over her legs. She tried to turn away but he grabbed her stockinged leg and pulled her back towards him. He ripped the suspender free and in another moment had hauled the panties from her so that she was naked under him. He forced her legs wide.

"Look at it."

He seized her by the hair and forced her head down between her legs until she thought her neck would break. "Look -- Look at this dirty cunt. Can you see it?". Yvette was struggling to breathe. "Can you see it? You think I'd want to touch this dirty cunt again? Do you?"

"No. Please -- don't --"

He slapped her hard between the legs. The shock of this fresh assault made her cry out. In all the time she had known her fiancé he had never once struck her. Their relationship had always been easy and familiar dating as it did back to their days at the same local school. She allowed him to believe he was in charge. It flattered his self-esteem. But at the same time she knew how to stand up to him if she needed to. But all that was gone. The admission of her involvement with D had brought something out of him darker and more unpredictable than anything he had revealed before.

Yvette was breathing hard. The strength of his grip on her seemed to drain her of energy. The repeated stinging slaps at her exposed lips made her skin smart. She winced at the pain but even as she did so she realised with horror other sensations were stirring within her. Something that answered the strength and violence of his anger. Something was loosening in her, opening to meet him, readying herself for what must inevitably follow.

By now he was in danger of losing all control. The words that came out of him meant nothing. He continued to slap at her, all the while insisting absurdly he would never touch her again. He unleashed a diatribe against her, against all women and their treacherous cunts, and yet even as he did so he was freeing himself from his clothes. His cock was driving him now. Urged on by a primitive mix of lust, anger and damaged pride he forced himself between her legs. Yvette was powerless to stop him and with a dizzying sense of vertigo she realised that stopping him was the last thing she wanted. When his cock reached the place it sought she was wet and open. A groan of dismay escaped him. 

"You bitch!" he cried, slapping her again. "You filthy bitch!"

Yvette was sobbing openly. He fucked her as if it was just a continuation of his assault, holding her down, beating her with his groin, trying to bury his pain deep inside her, and all the time the tears rolled down his cheeks. When he came it was with a cry of utter despair. And in one last bitter twist of the knife he heard Yvette answer beneath him.

They clutched each other through their tears, holding on as if their lives depended on it, until exhausted by their anger and passion they at last they fell asleep.

In the morning he was gone.

Yvette fell silent. It was a moment before Lena dared to speak.

"And did he come back? Did he call?"

"No," said Yvette. "He didn't call." She stopped and turned to face Lena. "I'm glad. It would be impossible the way things are now."

They walked for a few moments in silence. Lena's thoughts were in a whirl.

"This is very strange for me. Your life is so different from mine. There are so many questions I want to ask you --"

Now it was Lena's turn to stop.

"I've never seen a man. Like that. Naked. His --" she hesitated. "His thing. I've never seen it."

"But you have a husband." Yvette was staring at her in disbelief. "You're married."

And so Yvette explained about her sexual education at the hands of her husband. The darkened rooms, his thick nightshirt, the fumbling among heavy bedclothes.

"Would you like to? Would you like to see what a man looks like?"

Lena stared at her friend with shining eyes.

A laugh escaped Yvette's lips. "I knew it."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. I can see it in your face. Besides, every woman should see what a man looks like. A cock is very beautiful. Why should we deny ourselves that pleasure?"

"I believe I would like to see it."

"Then you shall," said Yvette, delighted. "Tomorrow. I promise."



The Descent Ch. 07



Lena kept very still. In the darkness she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. 

Moving was difficult in the confined space. She lacked even room to raise her arms. There was no catch on her side of the door and for a moment she had to fight back a sense of rising panic. 

The cupboard where she waited was no more than a wooden panel set across the angle of the wall in the corner. The deal planks that made up the door met the frame just below eye level and by bending her knees she was able to peer through a gap in the join. In this way she had a view of the entire room. 

It had seemed so simple when Yvette explained the idea. Yvette had an appointment with a man she had not met before. A note had been delivered explaining what was expected of her. All Lena had to do was wait quietly until Yvette returned. From her vantage point in the cupboard she would be able to watch the whole encounter unobserved. 

She had the advantage of secrecy but Yvette's companion had only to reach for the catch and she would be discovered. What if she made a noise? What if he merely wanted to hang up his coat? What then? It came to Lena with a sudden conviction that she was trapped and had she been able to open the door she would willingly have abandoned her hiding place and fled to the security of her own room. But the matter was out of her hands. Once Yvette had closed the latch on her tiny coffin all she could do was wait helplessly for whatever was going to happen next.

A feeling of exhaustion overcame her. She longed to sink to the floor but the triangular void where she waited would not permit it. Hours seemed to pass. Lena felt her thoughts begin to drift. It was as if her body was no longer hers. She studied this phenomenon for a while until all awareness of her surroundings began to fade. And then quite clearly she heard the sound of a key being fitted to a lock.

Lena peered through the gap above the door. 

Yvette cast a glance at the cupboard as she came into the room and then immediately turned to face her companion. He was in his forties, Lena estimated. Tall and clean shaven. He stood looking round the room taking it in. Lena held her breath. He had only to reach for the handle and she would be discovered. But the man showed no interest in her hiding place. Instead he turned, hung his coat on a hook behind the door and considered Yvette.

He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. Lena was surprised. She did not know what she had expected but there was something tender in this. It was the sort of gesture a lover might make. With the tip of his finger he traced a path to her lips and left it there as if forbidding her to speak. 

"Have you been told what to expect?"

Yvette nodded.

"There has been a change in my plans. I trust that will not be a problem?"

"No." Her voice was no more than a whisper.

He considered her for a long moment, as if he was assessing her.

"Open."

She did as she was asked and in one simple movement the lover's gesture was gone. The man watched her closely as she took his finger into her mouth. Yvette hadn't moved, instead she waited for instructions.

The man nodded and at his signal she began to suck the finger, to move backwards and forwards onto it, concentrating all her skill and attention on this single object. For a few moments he let her continue.

"Enough."

Slowly the man extracted his finger, drawing with it a long thread of saliva. Carelessly he wiped his finger on her cheek. From her hiding place across the room Lena could see the moisture glistening on her skin. Leaving Yvette standing in the middle of the room he turned and sat on the bed.

"Very well", he said. "Someone else will be joining us. He will not take part, he will merely watch. It's important he understands how these things are done. When we have finished I intend to leave him with you. You may consider his instructions mine. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear", said Yvette.

"That's good. Now we may have to wait a few moments so I'd like you to face the wall."

Yvette turned towards Lena's hiding place. Lena half expected some acknowledgement, a look, a smile even as she came closer, but there was nothing. Yvette was already in a different place. The voice of her companion had begun to work on her. Lena felt it too. It was more than confidence. There was a certainty in his manner that called to something deep within her. It spoke to another version of herself, one she had barely acknowledged, but which now at the sound of his voice emerged from the shadows fully fledged and ready to open. While he spoke all life's uncertainties were set aside, to be replaced by something wonderfully simple. He would take what he wanted and she would surrender it willingly.

She could see Yvette alongside her standing facing the wall. The tip of her nose was no more than a few centimetres from the plaster. Suddenly Lena longed to take her place. To reduce the confusion of her young life to the simple task of facing a wall. Everything else would be taken care of

There was a soft tapping at the door.

"Come!" said the stranger. A moment later a younger man entered the room. He might have been 17 – or even younger – barely more than a boy."

"This is Yvette," he said. "Sit down. Say nothing."

The young man had not taken his eyes off Yvette's back since he entered the room. Now he moved to a chair in the corner. His eyes alight with anticipation.

The older man picked up a bentwood stool from before the tiny dressing table and set it in the middle of the room.

"Yvette," he said. "You may come and sit down."

The man stood behind her. Carefully he put his hands around the column of her neck and held them there. Yvette at once sat straighter in the chair. His voice went on in the same hypnotic way.

"You come highly recommended, Yvette. We are going to see if your reputation is justified. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to give me everything I ask for and give it willingly."

"Yes."

Lena could see him adjust his hands, easing the vertebrae apart, as if he were balancing Yvette's young head on her extended spine. She was not yet in any real discomfort. But there was an unspoken acknowledgement he had only to tighten his grip and twist and her young life would be over. 

"In a moment I'm going to ask you to kneel down for me. No – don't try to speak." Yvette had attempted to answer but her throat extended as it was under his hands struggled to form the sounds.

He lifted her head a little more. Now Lena could hear Yvette's breathing grow taut For a moment she tensed. But the moment passed and she submitted to his lifting hands and relaxed. There was something infinitely gentle in the dangerous embrace, something beautiful in her vulnerability. After holding her for a moment he released her and at his invitation Yvette slipped from the chair onto her knees. Moving round in front of her he again adjusted the position of her head. This time with the lightest of touches beneath her chin. Under his hands Yvette seemed to grow taller. There was an elegance in the line of her back that had not been there before. It was as if she was blossoming under his hands, being remade. Satisfied at last, he invited her to open his trousers and take out his cock.

In her hiding place Lena held her breath. She stared at the long shaft where the veins showed clearly, at the purple swelling of its head, and gasped. Her expectations were coloured by her unsatisfactory experience with her husband. So the proud arrogance of the stranger's cock when it emerged under Yvette's hands was a genuine surprise. She struggled to reconcile the awkwardness and hesitancy of her husband's fumblings with the upright splendour of what she could see from her hiding place. She felt an ache of recognition between her legs, an answering concavity that needed the solid flesh before her to complete it.

The stranger's cock was centimetres from Yvette's face. She had only to dip her head to take it into her mouth, but without the instruction to do so, she remained where she was, unmoving.

"I'd like you to take out your breasts for me."

His voice was like another creature in the room. Something that stroked her skin, insinuating itself between her legs into the clefts and crevices of her being. 

Quickly Yvette unbuttoned her blouse and freed her breasts. There was moment when she struggled with the straps of her brassiere but the stranger instantly came to her rescue.

"I think it would be better if you took them off, don't you?"

In a moment the blouse and bra had gone.

"That's much better. Now hold them for me."

Yvette took a breast in each hand and straight backed, offered them to the stranger. He admired them for a moment and then dipped a hand into his pocket. When it emerged he was holding a small silver chain.

"I'd like you to work the nipples for me. I'd like to see them a little firmer."

Yvette did as she was asked, rolling the pink flesh between her finger and thumb, until her nipples stood out firmly. Satisfied he reached forwards and attached a clamp to each one joined by the silver chain. Yvette winced at the cold metal bit but made no sound. Taking the chain by its mid point he drew her towards him until she was almost touching his cock.

"You may kiss the tip", he said.

Yvette's lips parted and she planted the softest of kisses on the end where a jewel of moisture had formed. Her tongue darted forward. As she withdrew Lena could see the drop of precious liquid had gone. 

Lena felt faint. His slow exercise of power was hypnotic. She longed to give herself up to the stranger's voice, to let its certainty wash over her. There was no threat in his manner. Just an almost paternal strength and benevolence. An image of her own father came to her with great clarity. Shocked beyond measure she caught her breath.

"Thank you. Now stand up for me."

Yvette did as he asked, still offering up the gift of her breasts.

"You have a blemish – here." He reached out and touched a mark on her right breast. "But no matter. Turn around."

Now Yvette was facing the cupboard. Lena had her first view of her friends breasts, rounded and full in her hands. She found herself wanting to hold them. She imagined standing behind her, feeling the weight of each breast in the palm of her own hands, the firm bud of the nipples, each held in its silver clasp. Imagined resting her cheek on Yvette's naked back and breathing in the smell of her perfume. Feeling her own breasts flattened by her embrace.

"I'd like you to take off your skirt and your panties. And then put your hands behind your head."

Yvette stepped out of her skirt and followed his instructions to the letter. Now she was standing in her suspender belt and black stockings. She stood tall on the rug as if still guided by the memory of his hands. Lena marvelled at how perfect she looked. The stranger walked round her, as if he was inspecting a prospective purchase.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

For the first time the young man spoke.

"Yes father."

His lips were dry and his voice cracked with emotion. He watched hungrily from the sidelines. Lena could see he had his hand working deep in his pocket

The stranger moved over to the bed and sat down.

"Come here. Put yourself over my knee."

Yvette was quick to comply. As if she was not afraid, but genuinely anxious to please him. 

Lena held her breath. In such a position he could only mean one thing. Inadvertently she found her hand slipping between her legs, cupping her mound through her dress while her middle finger pressed upwards. But she was mistaken. He did not slap the inviting curve in front of him. Adjusting Yvette's position with care he moved her forward until her forearms were on the floor and she was presenting the lips of her cunt for his inspection.

He parted her lips and slid a finger inside.

"You are wet. That's good. Now let's see, shall we?"

The stranger began to work with some concentration, his expert fingers at once finding what they sought. His hand withdrew and then slowly began to return to the moist darkness. The effect on Yvette was immediate. Soon two fingers were moving inside her, and then, as she opened to him, a third. Small piping cries began to emerge as the rhythm of his hand changed and his fingers continued to send pulses of pleasure through her. Yvette's breathing was coming in short sharp bursts. Her cries grew more urgent as she drew closer.

His voice when he spoke remained calm and untroubled.

"You're not to come until I tell you. Do you understand?"

Yvette clamped her eyes firmly shut as she struggled to hold back the orgasm that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"Do you understand Yvette?"

"Yes," she said through clenched teeth. "Yes."

On he went, letting his wet fingers slide in and out of her. Her breathing betrayed her discomfort. Lena watched every muscle in her body grow tense as she fought the release that she craved. Suddenly her cries grew louder. As if she had passed the point of no return and nothing could prevent the oncoming climax.

He did not raise his voice. Reaching down with his free hand he placed it around Yvette's throat. He spoke very deliberately. "No, Yvette. Listen to me. I said, No."

Yvette's cries stopped. She was incapable of speech. But she nodded as best she could.

"Good Girl."

He'd stopped working on her. But now the immediate crisis was past he tested her resolve, beginning the slow deliberate movements of his fingers, stirring her once more to the brink. 

"You can stand up now."

Alone in her hiding place a wave of relief swept over Lena. So closely had she been following the stages of Yvette's arousal that she had shared it at every step. It was as if the stranger was addressing her and not just Yvette. Had it not been for the layers of clothes and her confined space she would surely have come herself and almost certainly been discovered.

Yvette was unsteady on her legs and had to reach out for the bedframe to support herself. This brought her face to face with the young man for the first time. She met his eyes, saw the hunger and cruelty there, saw him look away.

The stranger returned to his coat hanging on the door and took from one of its pockets at length of cord. 

"Give me your hands."

Yvette extended her hands which he placed neatly side by side and proceeded to bind together. That done he took the remainder of the cord and led her to the wall by the door where a lamp was fixed to the wall on a substantial iron bracket. He passed the cord over the bracket and gently pulling Yvette's arms above her head secured the end.

He traced the flat of his hand down her flank like a sculptor admiring the perfection of his work. And then returned once more to his coat. This time when he turned to face her he was holding a small thin riding crop.

Approaching Yvette he stood for a moment wondering where to begin. He let the tip trace the outline of her body, from the hollow under her arm, round over the tip of her breast and down to the flat expanse of her stomach.

The movement was so fast she almost missed it. His arm seemed barely to move, but the crop cut the air with an audible sound and a thin red line appeared as if by magic on the side of Yvette's breast. She cried out in pain.

"Shhh", he said, stroking the breast gently with the flat of his hand. "Hush now." And then he dipped his head and put his lips to the mark he'd made. When he was done he turned her round and moved the tip of the crop to the side of the other breast. Again he stroked the soft flesh with the tip of the crop, taking his time, letting her wait.

He worked with great precision, like a surgeon, placing each of the tiny red lines exactly where he intended, as if he was decorating her young body. And each time he followed the cut with the touch of his lips.

In her hiding place Lena longed to feel what her friend was feeling. To offer up her own body to share the pain and the softness of his lips – willing the thin red lines to appear on her own skin.

Yvette had begun to tremble uncontrollably with the contradictory sensations that were flooding through her. At last the stranger put down the crop and loosened the cord a little. With the extra freedom this allowed she was able to follow his instructions and bend at the waist offering herself to him. The stranger released his cock and fitting it to her from behind prepared to enter her.

"Now Yvette. Not until I give you permission."

A deep groan issued from Yvette's lips. The impossibility of what he was asking seemed more than she could bear. And then he leaned into her.

He worked with concentration. Each questing thrust was measured, deliberate, implacable. Yvette rode the wave of this unstoppable invasion as cock searched out the deepest parts of her. 

At last he pulled out. He summoned the young man from his corner.

"Come over here."

The young man rose from the chair.

"Put your hand here."

Lena watched the older man place the boy's hand between Yvette's open legs, finding the clitoris.

"Now. Keep it there. This is what you are looking for. You will feel her flutter like a bird."

The boy nodded. Now the stranger turned back to Yvette. She was trembling uncontrollably. He again took her throat in his hands, this time turning her head towards him.

"Now, Yvette. You may come now. Come now Yvette. Now."

He heard Yvette's cry shake the room, but the not smaller answering cry from Lena.

The moment past, the boy was sent back to his chair. Working quickly now the stranger released Yvette and lay her across the edge of the bed on her back. Then lifting one leg in each hand he entered her again and began to drive towards his own release. Lena could see his cock going into her, driving towards her dark centre, the moisture leaking from her, her legs splayed under his open hands. At last he uttered a deep guttural cry and Yvette felt the cresting wave break inside her a second time. 

For a moment he stood breathing heavily still holding Yvette's legs apart, gathering himself. He pulled out, and swung her round so that she lay full length on the bed. He moved to her head and with great tenderness stroked a strand of Yvette's hair from her eyes where it had fallen.

"Good girl," he said again. "You did very well. Now clean me up, would you."

Yvette immediately lifted herself from the covers and taking him into her mouth began to work at him with her lips and tongue. She worked diligently until he was satisfied.

At last the stranger let her go and buttoned himself.

"I'm going to leave you now. I trust I can rely on you to continue this young man's education?"

"Yes," said Yvette. "Of course."

He turned to the young man in question. "Be careful with her," he said. And was gone.

Yvette watched as the young man rose slowly to his feet. He did not look at her. Instead he walked over to the dressing table and picked up the crop where the stranger had left it. Then he turned to face her. He reached for the silver chain still attached to her sore nipples. The moment she saw his eyes, she knew. 

"Bitch!" he hissed at her. "You fucking bitch!"

And with one movement he yanked the chain free.