Chapter 10
With Dick gone, Sue decided to have dinner by herself in their
suite. The meal was brought up by a little Irish redhead about 18 years
old who looked exhausted -- almost as if she'd had no sleep for a couple
of days. Sue felt a trifle guilty about causing extra work for the poor
girl and decided to make sure that Dick gave her an extra large tip when
they left. She ate the solitary meal then changed into a long powder-
blue nylon gown and a blue lace peignoir. The feeling of nylon against
her bare skin was wickedly exciting; she wished Dick were here.
She had sat down at the window writing desk and had begun writing a
long chatty letter to Marylou when there was a knock on the door. "Come
in," she called, thinking it was the maid returning for the dinner
dishes.
"Good evening, my dear," Lord Medwell said, coming in and closing
the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, staring
appreciatively at her gown, then carried a large manila envelope to the
table in front of the fireplace.
She felt the first discordant notes of uneasiness run through her
mind. Lord Medwell had walked in as though he owned the place. He had
looked at her in an unmistakable superior manner. Vaguely she felt that
it was not right that he should be in a closed room with her when her
husband was absent, especially with her dressed as revealingly as she
was.
"Writing letters, I see," he said, quite unnecessarily.
"Yes. To a few friends back home. Mother. Cousin ... you know."
Lord Medwell moved over right next to her writing table. His bold
eyes fastened on her gown which was open enough to see the first proud
swelling promise of her breasts. Blushing furiously, she nervously put
her hand up there and fumbled the peignoir's button in an effort to
close it.
"That really isn't necessary, my dear. You have charming breasts.
There's no need to hide them."
"Lord Medwell! Please!" Sue was shocked. She sputtered almost
incoherently when she was his leering expression. "I think, sir, you
had better leave. As you know, my husband isn't here."
Lord Medwell's derisive laughter cut into her like a whip. Then
his expression became coldly cruel. "Leave? Leave! I have no
intention of leaving until I get what I came for." He boldly placed his
blue-veined, age-spotted hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
Suddenly Sue was frightened, really frightened. Lord Medwell must
be a madman! He was looking in ill-concealed lust at her breasts and at
her pelvic area. "I ... I ... you really must go, Lord Medwell." She
stood and backed nervously away from him. His eyes were like prison
yard searchlights moving up and down the length of her figure. They
came to rest on a spot just below her navel -- that slightly protruding
spot marking her mound of Venus.
"You are quite beautiful, my dear," he said.
"Please leave."
His face suddenly became contorted in something akin to hate, and
his voice was tight in anger. "Don't be impertinent! I said I would
not go until I got what I came for."
Sue walked to the door and opened it. "Get out," she said, trying
to keep her composure.
"Close the door," he demanded.
"Get out, or I shall scream."
"You may scream all you wish, but it will be of no avail. No one
will hear you; the servants are gone. We are alone in the castle."
Feeling a combination of embarrassment, anger, and fear, Sue
screamed and then yelled, "Help." The echoes resounded throughout the
deserted hallways, "... help ... help ... help." Her own voice was
mocking her.
"Now that we have that silly bit of amateur theatrics out of our
system, I want to show you something. Take a look at the little gift
I've brought you. There, on the table ... in the envelope."
"I'm not leaving this door. You make a move toward me and I'll
run."
"I have no doubt that you could outrun me. It would be the most
foolish thing you have done in your life, however. Take a look in the
envelope. I give you my word of honor ... as a gentleman ... that I
will not move from this spot."
Anything to get rid of this maniac, Sue thought. She sidled over
from the door toward the table, watching him closely for any movement.
He merely smiled in vast amusement at her precautions. He seemed to be
holding his breath, and his eyes had grown to enormous size as he
watched her unfasten the clasp on the envelope.
Sue didn't relax her vigilance; she riveted her eyes on him as she
withdrew the contents. She could tell by the feel that they were
photographs. She made one rapid glance down at the top one, and then
room began swirling around her. She heard his satanic laughter burst
out, and he sat down in the chair, laughing uproariously at her stunned
and disbelieving expression.
"Oh," he gasped, "if you could only see you face, my dear. Divine!
Absolutely fantastic! Almost as if you had suddenly stumbled upon Jack
the Ripper in the darkness."
Sue gazed down in horrified disbelief. It was a photograph of
herself. Not her as she saw herself each morning in the mirror, but a
photograph of a totally alien her -- wantonly smiling as she sucked away
on Lord Medwell's sausagelike cock. Her lips were grotesquely pouting
around the instrument, but it was her expression that was the most
astonishing thing about the picture. It was obvious to anyone -- even
herself! -- that she was blissfully and erotically enjoying what she was
doing. Her hands were clearly shown; one was cradling his testicles as
though she were weighing them, the other had two fingers wormed deep
into his open rectum.
Sue's legs failed her. She was forced to steady herself on the
back of a chair and then sink slowly into it. She continued to stare at
the picture. Finally she closed her eyes and moaned, "Oh, my God!"
Lord Medwell continued to cackle. He choked, then coughed and
wheezed. "You may like to know, my dear, that no one had to tell you a
thing. I have never known a more apt pupil, one who picked it up so
rapidly -- within seconds, so to speak. You were born to bring pleasure
to a man ... and you don't have the intelligence to realize it. Pure
womanly instinct." He sighed. "But really, you should look at the
others."
Fear, almost wishing that God would strike her blind, Sue turned to
the next photograph. She blinked and the hot tears began streaming down
her face. This picture showed her with legs spread wide apart and Lord
Medwell's head buried in her vaginal crevice. Her tongue was hanging
laxly out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes were rolled back in
her head. Shown clearly were her taut stomach muscles and flexed
buttocks, and her fingernails clawing a bloody trail of lust down his
back. Her face was smeared with what could only be cum; it glistened
all over her neck, and a huge puddle of it could be seen alongside her
shoulders on the rumpled sheet. As she gazed through watery eyes at the
photograph, it was all coming back to her now. The dream! It hadn't
been a dream, alter all. She remembered the moment; in the dream it had
been so wonderful to have her husband doing that to her.
She realized that Lord Medwell had become silent. He merely stared
at her, and his expression was once again one of anger ... and something
else.
He didn't make a command, but she turned to the next photograph ...
already sure of what she would see. It was a closeup of Lord Medwell's
cock in the process of being jammed into her vagina. What made the
picture so unbelievably horrible again was the sheer expression of
delight and impatient lust on her face. She thought dully: It didn't
hurt at all when he did that; it was wonderful. I remember the
sensation now. Beautiful. But I thought it was my husband making love
to me ... not someone using me as a ploy, an insensitive whore. She
suddenly realized that no one seeing the photograph would ever think of
her being an "insensitive" whore. A "whore," yes. "Insensitive,"
never! Not with that gloating sensual expression on her face, not with
those fingernails digging deeply into his driving buttocks. No, if
anything, she was a very "sensitive" whore, one who was enjoying the
fucking of her life.
The next, as she was pretty sure it would, showed Morgan with his
stubby little cock in the process of sodomizing her. Again the
photographer had masterfully focused on her expression. She was the
personification of wantonness. The hang of the taut breasts like ripe
fruit about to drop from a tree, the tendons of her neck, the muscles of
her inner thighs, the deep indentations created by the eager flexing of
the anal muscles ... all were clear indications that she was within
seconds of obtaining an orgasm.
It was all too much to bear, much less understand. Her dignity
crushed, sobs wracked her body and each breath was a shuddering one.
She had never been so mortified, so humiliated, so ashamed in her life.
The photographs, no matter how they had come to be taken, gave Sue an
insight to that darker being within her whose existence she had never
known or even suspected.
Lord Medwell was no longer amused; he stalked angrily toward the
door and closed it. He stood there, impatiently rocking back and forth,
glaring at her. "Whimper all you want, slut. Cry your heart out. It
makes no difference. Your precious husband shall see these when he
returns from the hunt tonight. And in tomorrow's post, an envelope
identical to the one I gave you will be transmitted to your mother, to
your local police authorities, and to ..." He took his hand from behind
his back and held out Sue's blue address book. He grinned evilly "...
every name in this book."
She screamed and leaped toward him; she was rewarded by a vicious
backhand in the face that sent her sprawling to the rug. In falling,
her peignoir ripped; her gown slithered up to her waist, where the full
ripeness of her upper thighs and buttocks were fully visible to Lord
Medwell's cruelly glinting eyes. "You beast you, you filthy beast," she
sobbed.
"My dear young lady. These photographs are not of a 'filthy beast'
... but of a common street whore sucking, being sucked, being, if you'll
pardon the Saxon expression, 'fucked' ... and being sodomized. Oh, how
she loves it all. Note the enjoyment upon her face. How amusing it
will be when your mother and all of your little friends and relatives
see what a happy honeymoon you're enjoying."
"What is it you want?" she gasped, feeling horror and sickness
suddenly wash over her like an unrelenting tide of despair.
"That's hardly the question you want to ask, is it? What you
really want to know is: 'How do I get those photographs back?' "
Sue looked up from the floor. She could see the bulge growing in
his trousers as he gazed at her uncovered body. She made a futile
attempt to pull her gown down. A part of her mind was screaming like a
frightened caged animal, " ... help me, please, someone ... help me."
Yet she knew there would be no help. No help from the local police, and
certainly none from Dick. If Dick ever saw the photographs, he would
leave her in an instant. With a sudden caving in of her spirit, she
asked in a barely audible voice, "What do ... I have to do ... to get
them back?"
Lord Medwell smiled. "Excellent, my dear. You are, as I said
before, a quick study -- a fast learner." He picked up the envelope and
withdrew the first one. He rolled his eyes theatrically. "Oh, yes! I
remember it well. It was delightful; you showed such tremendous talent
for it." He looked as if he were thinking, then nodded his head.
"That's it! That seems fair enough. For each photographic scene you
recreate, I shall return a picture."
As she realized what he was asking, Sue suddenly felt a painful
spasm in her stomach; she was sure she was going to vomit. Oh, God!
How could any human being so degrade another, so debase another as he
was trying to do to her. She wouldn't do it ... she couldn't do it.
She shook her head and mumbled, "I won't." Then she looked up in tearful
pleading, "Please, Lord Medwell. Please have mercy -- pity. Give me
the photographs. Please!" The last was a half hysterical scream.
"Of course, my child. They shall be returned to you ... upon my
word as a gentleman ... just as soon as you fulfill the conditions of
our contract."
Sobbing incoherently, Sue shook her head violently from side to
side, "I can't. I just can't do that!"
Lord Medwell clapped his hands together in dismissal. "Then we
really have nothing more to discuss. The photographs will be mailed
tomorrow." He turned to the door.
"Please. Have pity." Sue screamed.
Lord Medwell did not answer. He opened the door and stood in the
archway. "Good evening, Madam. And sweet dreams." He started to close
the door.
"No," Sue shouted in desperation and fear. "No ... come back." Her
body was wracked with shuddering sobs of distress, as she buried her
face in her hands.
"You'll do it?" Lord Medwell's voice was cold, inflexible.
"Oh, God forgive me ... yes!" she screamed. "Yes ... you, you
beast ... I'll do it!"
Lord Medwell closed the door behind him. His face was red in rage
and his voice tight in poorly suppressed fury. "Watch your language,
slut, or I shall have second thoughts about my generosity. As it is,
you will pay a little extra for your persistent use of the odious term."
Abjectly, knowing she must be on his good side to get the
photographs, Sue said, "I'm sorry."
"That's better, immensely better. Now my dear, take your hands
away from your pretty little face. Do it ... now!" The last word
cracked like a whip and Sue's body jumped as though struck.
Lord Medwell handed down photograph number one. "Shall we begin?
Recreate this ... and you may have the picture to do as you wish. Burn
it, tear it, or keep it among your treasured souvenirs. Look at it
closely."
"Oh, God ..." she moaned in shame and distress.
"Take off your clothes." It was an order, there could be no
disobedience. She rose, silent, unable to speak for the humiliation she
felt. The man's eyes burned huge holes in her breasts and pelvic area.
When she hesitated -- hoping against hope that he would change his mind,
that this was really a monstrous nightmare from which she would soon
awaken -- Lord Medwell narrowed his eyes in warning. Quickly then, she
took off the peignoir. Then, eyes closed and unable to look at him, she
slowly lifted the gown over her head to stand naked and trembling
abjectly before him.
"Beautiful, just beautiful. Now stand there until I get my clothes
off." For the first time the old man began showing real signs of
impatience. She watched him, horrified, as he removed his coat, tie,
shirt and undershirt, and then unbuttoned his trousers and dropped his
pants and drawers to the floor. A moment later, he stood before her
with only his shoes and socks and garters on. His huge white erection
grew like a poisonous toadstool in the grey tundra of his pubic hair.
"All right, my dear. Picture number one: On your hands and knees ...
crawl to me."
It was going to be even worse than she had thought. She kept
saying over and over again in her mind, "This can't be happening to me;
this can't be happening to me." Lord Medwell was a hideous creature seen
in some nightmare as he leered down at her with those horribly hot and
unbending eyes. She would die before she did this. "No ... I can't."
She clenched her eyes tightly shut as if she could erase the scene from
memory and make it cease to exist.
"If I am forced to put my clothes on, I swear to you that nothing
-- absolutely nothing you could offer, no matter how far you crawled --
could obtain the release of these photographs. Do you quite
understand?"
"Please?" she pleaded, looking at him once more in supplication.
"Please ..."
Lord Medwell merely stroked his waiting cock and answered. "I'm
waiting. On your hands and knees. Quickly!"
It was hopeless, she knew it was hopeless. All was lost. It
didn't matter. She would die of humiliation if the photographs were
released; she would die of humiliation if she were to undergo the cruel
debasement in order to retrieve them. It didn't matter except ... the
pictures would kill Dick's love for her, would destroy her mother, would
be traumatic for all her friends receiving copies. This way only she
would be hurt. Slowly, she sank to her knees and began crawling like a
wounded animal toward his naked loins.
Now all she could think about was getting the execution of her soul
and dignity over with as rapidly as possible. Lord Medwell
misunderstood her suddenly speeded up crawling. "Don't be so eager, my
dear. You are acting as hungry as you were last night." He laughed and
backed away when she reached him. She crawled forward two more paces,
then reached up for his cock. He backed away again, laughing at her.
"Come on," he coaxed, and moved back until his hips were against the
bed. He sat down and spread his legs. Sue could see his testicles
dangling like ripe, flesh colored fruit above the brown puckered opening
of his anus. His cock stuck up in the air at an outrageous angle, and
occasionally it throbbed and jerked spasmodically.
Sue crawled up on the platform and to the bedside, no longer
conscious of moving or acting. She was merely an automated robot,
incapable of independent action or thought.
"Now, my dear. For the first photograph ...
She shuddered in revulsion as she bent forward to pay unwilling
homage to the waving, purple and white penis. She could see angry red
veins running up its white and blue trunk and the throbbing purple
hooded head already seeping a white thick fluid. His balls were high
and tight now in his purple scrotum; his gray pubic hair lay like white
foliage struck down by hail. Inside her mind a voice kept crying out,
"Ask him once again."; but she refused to heed it, knowing instinctively
that it would be useless. Besides, she knew her abject begging and
pleading only added to his sadistic enjoyment. She closed her eyes and
swallowed, muttering a silent prayer, "Dick ... forgive me. Please
forgive me, darling, for what I'm about to do."
Her lips closed wetly about the smooth rubbery head. Lord Medwell
groaned. His eyes were bulging in unconcealed lust as he stared down at
the top of her blonde young head. The knob of his cock tasted like
sweet soap, the viscous fluid seeping from the glans was slightly saline
with a faint odor. He moved the rod in her mouth. "Suck a little,
nibble a little, my dear."
"I was dreaming ... I am dreaming ... I am dreaming," Sue said to
herself with each thrust of the hated cock in and out of her mouth. She
had dreamed of doing this last night; it had been terribly exciting,
terribly enjoyable ... but that had been with her husband! She felt
nothing now but despair and humiliation. She followed his directions,
mindlessly licking and nibbling and tongue teasing as he ordered. She
was sure that it would never end, but it did with Lord Medwell's saying,
"That's enough for now."
She removed her mouth from his cock. She kneeled there, head down
in subjugation, waiting for whatever cruelty was to come next.
"Get on the bed," Lord Medwell said. Spiritlessly, Sue did as she
was instructed. She lay there, legs slightly apart, staring up at the
ceiling -- not making any effort to cover her body. Lord Medwell gazed
speculatively down at her. "You aren't showing nearly enough
enthusiasm, my dear. Perhaps we should turn that little furnace of
yours up higher." He walked away from the bed and came back a moment
later with the second photograph. He held it before her yes. "Shall we
try for number two?" When Sue did not answer, he slapped her with the
picture. The sharp edge of the paper cut the underside of her chin,
drawing a thin line of blood. "Answer me," he snarled.
"Yes ..."
"Yes, what, you slut?"
"Yes. Let us do number two."
"There is a vulgarism -- American, I believe called 'eating pussy'.
Some of our lesser educated Englishmen call it 'cunt scouring'. Now you
must ask me in a nice way -- using either of those vulgarisms."
Sue closed her eyes and sighed. "I want you to eat pussy."
"Whose?"
"Mine."
"Say it then."
She sighed again and said, without any inflection at all, "I want
you to eat my pussy."
"Please?"
"Please ..."
Sue was aware that her legs were being spread apart. She flinched,
in spite of herself, when his finger parted the softness of her pubic
hair and touched her vaginal lips. She remembered the dream last night!
Presumably Dick had been doing this to her. It had been wildly exciting
and erotic beyond description. But now, she felt nothing. Only a
deadness down there as he began his perverted licking.
The numbness lasted until he reached the clitoris; he put his lips
and it began sucking it as though it were a very small penis. Sue's
body stiffened as she felt the unwelcome sensations return down there.
Lord Medwell chuckled as he sensed she had finally begun to come to
life. Next she felt his tongue jab into her vagina; it was like an
electrical cattle prod placed in there. She jumped, trying to pull
herself away from him. Then the slow, rhythmic, tantalizing licking
began again. She flexed the muscles along her inner thighs attempting
to make the unwanted feeling of pleasure go away but it only added to
her enjoyment. With the tensing of her thighs, Lord Medwell went back
to lick again at the tiny, suddenly pulsating, clitoris.
Now Sue was beginning to moan and sob as she realized what these
sensations implied. No, this couldn't be happening to her! It mustn't
happen! The nerve endings down there were betraying her. She couldn't
permit this to feel pleasurable; she couldn't. But, in spite of her
revulsion at the act, her abdomen rose and fell with increasing rapidity
as the old man began taking long licking strokes with his tongue and
using his nose to buffet the clitoris while his chin whiskers were
scraping against her tightly clenched anus. She knew she was beginning
to secrete lubricants and liquids from glands that were taking notice of
the loving attention being bestowed them. It wasn't until she
discovered her pelvis was beginning to grind lewdly into the old man's
sardonically smiling face that she realized she had lost this one
particular battle. Her shamelessly aroused body was moving
independently now, she hadn't the least control over it any longer. His
hot hungry mouth enclosed the entire vaginal labia area and he began
sucking voraciously at it. The exquisite sensations shot across her
loins into the nerve endings at the mouth of her womb. His drooling
mouth kept the labia tightly clamped, his tongue pressured its way
through the compressed vaginal lip, and Sue almost lost her mind
attempting to control her reactions.
Finally -- and she knew it the second that it happened -- she
reached the point of no return. She was going to have a climax! She
fought it, screamed against it in her mind, but muscles and nerves all
rebelled against the discipline -- seeking instead the sweet release.
Then her pelvis was jerking and her hands were trying to push the old
man's face up all the way into her vagina, and a voice she had never
heard before was screeching from her own throat, "I'm cumming. Oh God,
lick harder ... faster ... now ... Now! ... Aieeee."
She was almost unconscious from the combination of shame and
satiation when Lord Medwell raised her knees to her chest. Abruptly she
felt his penis pressing against her open, unprotected vagina.
"Now number three," he said.
"No ... you'll hurt me," she moaned, but it was already too late.
She attempted to scissor her legs, but the movement caused him to slip
forward and his long hard cock slid effortlessly into the mouth of her
cervix. "Gaaaagh," she screamed. God, it was excruciating. It was a
white hot poker plunged into her. Worse, far worse, more agonizing than
even the first night with Dick. That pain, at least, had come from love
-- this came from torture and debasement and rape.
Lord Medwell smiled down at her. "Don't put on an act, my dear."
He reached over to the bedside table and pulled down the photograph.
The sideways movement hurt her and she moaned in pain. "See what
immense pleasure you are getting out of me. That is the real you.
You're only acting right now," he said.
Sue's eyes were blinded to the picture; the reality of the moment
was that she was in pain from sexual intercourse and his huge penis. He
moved it out a bit; the withdrawal motion was agonizing. He pushed it
in to its utmost depth again. "Ooooohhh, God! No, please. You're
hurting me. Please, I'll do anything ... but not this ... you're
killing me." A sudden jab was the only answer to her pitiful plea. She
was suddenly screaming at the top of her voice as he began viciously
jabbing into her; she jerked her eyes open to see the old man's cruel
sadistic grin above her. He was killing her; he wanted to hear her
scream and moan; he was enjoying every second of it.
Her vagina felt as though it bad shattered and was bleeding from a
thousand different, places. His cock lay throbbing, sunk deep in her
belly, filling every part of her insides. There wasn't a single fleshy
ridge on the prick that she could not feel as it pressed tight against
the soft flesh of her cunt. It was a heated scimitar plunged into the
belly of the infidel. Sue lay immobile, afraid to move because of the
pain each movement brought.
Lord Medwell grinned down at her. He flexed his cock inside her
belly and she felt it jerk up and against the cervix. "Aaaagggh," she
groaned, and her face was twisted in pain.
Lord Medwell merely smiled more sadistically. He flexed it again.
"Oooohhh ..." She kept her stomach muscles as tight as possible,
hoping she would create an intolerable pressure for him down there.
Slowly, Lord Medwell pulled his hardened penis from her tight
vaginal sheath until it was about half out, then slowly -- oh, so very
slowly -- pushed it in again. He did this for about three minutes.
"Oooohhh, please ... you're ... hurting." She said it
automatically, and with a sudden jolt to her brain realized that she was
screaming a lie. Oh, it was tight, all right. Very tight. And she was
being stretched painfully. But the slow, salacious movements were not
painful! Furthermore, by the sudden look on the old man's face, she
knew he was aware of her new knowledge.
"Now you must ask me to 'fuck' you."
"No ... I won't. I can't. Please don't. Do what you have to do
and get it over with, but please don't ask me to degrade myself like
that!"
Lord Medwell continued to move his cock back and forth slowly. Sue
was aware that her vagina was making a wet, lewd sucking noise, as it
slipped moistly in and out of her fully opened vagina and that too
suddenly began to add to the forbidden excitement she felt coursing
through her betraying body.
"You must beg," he said, insistently, "that is part of the
contract. After all, each time you say 'please, stop', you're begging.
So beg me to 'fuck' you." He shoved his prick forward and a shock of
unwanted pleasure shot through her womb.
"Oooh, no! Please no." That, of course, would be the final straw
-- the ultimate in humiliation. She had maintained a tiny shred of
pride because she knew she was suffering all this for Dick and her
mother's sake. But to be forced to beg? That would be the end of her
forever as a decent person. He had taken her self-respect, her fidelity
to her husband ... taken everything. She couldn't, she wouldn't give
him the ultimate triumph of hearing her beg for him to force these
horribly depraved indignities on her helpless body!
Lord Medwell stopped moving with his penis half in, half out of her
cunt. "Very well," he said. "A woman has other ways of begging. We
shall see."
Sue didn't understand what he was talking about, and she didn't
waste time trying to figure it out because her mind was elsewhere ...
analyzing, calculating, evaluating. Something unwanted was happening in
her vaginal area. The pain had disappeared. She wasn't even
uncomfortable any longer. There was a pleasant warmth there, a pleasant
pressure. When his penis twitched again she was astonished to find that
-- without volition -- her own inner muscles had flexed in involuntary
response, bringing a smile of ecstatic delight from him.
She fought with every bit of will-power she had to keep from doing
that again. She hadn't been conscious of doing it the first time; she
wasn't sure how she had done it ... please, please, just don't let it
happen again. But it did happen, and there was a minor groan from him.
It happened again ... and again ... and again until it seemed almost as
if she had attached an automatic milking machine down there between her
legs.
Lord Medwell was making a slow rocking motion between her thighs.
She could feel the narrow passageway to her innermost femaledom being
widened with each short stroke. The friction had caused her vagina to
run -- within seconds -- the entire spectrum from cold agony to hot
willing anticipation. The hot glow of passion outside was being rubbed
and pushed inside; she could feel it creeping relentlessly along the
vaginal walls to the tip of her uterus ... a strange and wonderful glow.
She fought that, too. She fought her breathing, which was becoming more
shallow, more rapid. The perspiration popped out on her forehead as she
fought a desperate losing battle with her pelvis after discovering it
shamelessly rising to meet the downward thrust of his cock; she forced
her pelvis back to the mattress. A second later, though, it had begun
moving slowly upward again like an open-mouthed fish rising to the bait.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the battle was over. Sue's body
was asserting its independence from her ethics, her morals, her
upbringing, her will-power! The lewd flames of lust coursed salaciously
through her veins, and her heart sped up its action in an effort to get
the hot desire--contaminated blood into every part of her body. Her
pelvis as she had feared, was the first to unleash itself. After a long
struggle, it began moving up and down of its own volition on the white
rod of hardened flesh -- the two things moving in harmony and growing
excitement. Her inner muscles went next; twitching against, massaging,
and milking the cock for its entire length. One section of muscle
squeezed so tightly on Lord Medwell's prick that he groaned
uncomfortably.
It was all going away from her. Sue could mentally stand off and
watch her body -- as though she were watching the actions of a lust-
crazed prostitute beneath a stranger's pounding weight. Her face was
beginning to twist in an expression of unbridled desire. Her body
writhed beneath him, and she made low hums of passionate encouragement
with each new thrust of his prick. Her breath now was coming in puppy
dog-like pants. Her legs on either side of his driving hips were moving
in tiny lewd circles as though she were using a hula hoop. Suddenly,
Sue's mind which had been able to stand off and watch all this became
too excited to be denied its participation. There was no longer any
thought but the delicious sensation of lying beneath this man who was
bringing her rapidly to a peak of glory she had never consciously known
existed. She was cumming again; she knew it. She wanted it ... she
didn't want it ... she wanted it ... she wanted it ... and she was
close, close, close!
Then, Lord Medwell stopped.
Unbelievingly she looked up at him. He grinned down at her. "You
do like to be fucked, don't you, my dear?"
She stared at him, burning hatred in her eyes, her nostrils
quivering with each short breath she took.
He flexed his cock deep inside her.
"Ummm," she mewled.
"You like to be fucked?" He flexed it twice.
"Oh, God, help me. Yes. Yes!" she screamed, and the cry came from
the deepest part of her being. "Fuck me."
"All right, my dear. We have a slight change in plan, though. A
much more enjoyable way of you reaching your little climax. You'll get
all of the photographs, providing you follow directions."
It was the heat within her that made her answer through gritted
teeth, "I'll do anything." She moaned helplessly as she moved her pelvis
up and down, up and down, wanting to bring herself to final fruition.
Lord Medwell twitched his cock again. In response to her groan of
delight, he said, "Yes ... I guess you would do anything right now. I'm
weary, my dear. I'll lie on the bottom, you shall be on top." Clasping
her buttocks tightly in each hand, he rolled over, carrying Sue with
him. His cock stayed deeply buried in now wildly stretched vagina
during the entire exercise.
Sue propped her knees into the mattress, with his legs between her.
Lord Medwell used his hands to pull her buttocks down, then pushed her
back up. "That's the way it's done," he said.
She rode his prick up and down and round and round as though she
were aboard a carousel horse -- her cunt reaching hopefully for the
elusive brass ring of forbidden pleasure. She moaned in wild delight as
she discovered that this new position permitted extra friction from his
cock against her clitoris. It was beyond a doubt the most exciting
thing she had ever felt in her life. She hated herself for what she was
doing, yet knew it was impossible not to do it. She was his helpless
slave now, even though she were on top and free to dart away. The
pictures were unimportant ... the cock was the thing. She rode him
unmercifully ... bouncing up and down obscenely, flaunting her pelvis
against the impaling shaft as though she were trying to drive it all the
way through her body.
Through it all, Lord Medwell lay there with an amused smile on his
face; he even had his hands behind his head!
Sue could feel everything coming together down there now. She was
mixing ingredients that -- together -- became a wild unstable compound
which was threatening to explode at any moment. Her body was moving in
abandoned wantonness. She was coming closer, closer, closer. She was
moaning -- mouthing incoherencies -- and her eyes were rolling around in
her head. Then Lord Medwell's arms locked her in position! She was
incapable of movement!
She stared down at him, wondering if he was cumming, or if he had
suddenly gone mad. Instead he was smiling mysteriously. Impatiently,
she wiggled her ass a couple of time in an effort to get loose from his
arms. He shook his head. "Relax, my dear. Here's where you get all of
the pictures. Just lie still for a minute. Don't move."
Sue felt obscene with her buttocks waving nakedly in the air that
way, but she did as instructed, feeling her inner muscles milking and
massaging the warm cudgel inside her.
Suddenly, she felt a strange finger rubbing from her vagina to her
anus!
She screamed and twisted around, then moaned in terror when she saw
Tom Morgan beside the bed. He was completely naked; his stubby cock was
at full erection.
"Good evening, Sue," Tom said formally, and pressured his wet
finger into her tight puckered little anal ring.
"Oh, no ... please no." Sue panted. "You can't ... it isn't
right." She jerked and tried to rise.
"Hold her," Tom ordered, and Sue felt Lord Medwell's arms lock
again like a vise around her waist. Sue screamed again, this time in
pain, as the finger moved all the way in to its knuckle. She groaned as
he began sawing it back and forth. Sue attempted to get away from it by
pressing down; this only skewered her cunt more deeply on Lord Medwell's
cock coming up from below.
She could feel the prick flexing inside of her. She tensed her
buttocks tight in an effort to escape the finger; the action did nothing
to halt Morgan's intrusion, but Lord Medwell moaned in delight.
Morgan was kneading the left cheek of her ass with his hand. He
kissed that sensitive spot below the base of her spine and bit her
buttocks painfully. And all the time his finger sawed away monotonously
at the straining depths of her tightly clenched rectum.
"Please ... no," Sue had begun, but then said, "Gaaaaggghh," as a
second finger joined the first.
"Hurry, Morgan," Lord Medwell commented. "She is nibbling me to
sweet death. I do believe the bitch has got me rather close to
cumming."
The pain in her anus and rectum was intense. Sue splayed her legs
to avoid the pressure, but this only brought a third finger into play --
all of them now making ever widening circles as her asshole was expanded
ever wider.
Satisfied finally, Morgan climbed atop the bed. He peeled open her
soft, yielding buttocks and then leaned forward to drop a larger drop of
saliva which drooled down the smooth white crevice to her anus.
He shuffled up between her and Lord Medwell's legs. He clamped his
hands on her hips. Then he pressed forward with his cock. Sue fought
it once again, but was held immovable by Lord Medwell's arm and Morgan's
grip. The head of Morgan's prick slipped easily into the already
stretched anal opening; he kept right on going until his balls slapped
up against her buttocks. "Gaaaggghh," she screamed, "you're killing me!
Oh God, you're killing me!"
"Dear Sue," Morgan said patiently, "you're being a child about
this. You've enjoyed sodomy for the last two nights. This is merely a
double exposure in return for the photographs."
"I say. A 'double exposure'. Rather good that," Lord Medwell
chuckled as he flexed his cock again. Sue felt the responding twitch
from Morgan.
Morgan began moving tentatively, "Gentle motions -- those count in
a young asshole," he said philosophically.
Sue felt as though someone had shoved pillows filled with rocks
into her abdomen. Her asshole was filled, her cunt was filled. There
was only a thin membrane separating the two pricks, and they rubbed and
bumped against each other like hungry sharks in the aquarium.
It was not long before the two men began buffeting her between them
-- like a rag doll thrown in a game of "catch". She had never felt so
helpless and naked before in her life. This was the end -- whatever few
grains of self-respect that may have been left in her mind were rapidly
being extinguished. Large wet tears streamed down both sides of her
face to drop with a splash on Lord Medwell's grey-haired chest. Morgan
began driving in and out of her rectum with maniacal fury; Lord Medwell
was obviously close to cumming ... or dying of a heart attack! And Sue?
She could feel the pain being replaced by a kind of masochistic
pleasure. Unable to escape ... unable to prevent it ... her body had no
recourse but to accept.
And once again she lost control of her body! She could feel her
orgasm coming back again ... it seemed to hover like a primeval bird of
prey looking for a place to land.
Then with frightening suddenness, she was there! It was she, who
in her sudden desperate hunger, took control away from the two men; it
was she who began frantically bucking against them, urging them on to
harder and deeper thrusts. She reared her ass in the air to get full
benefit of Morgan's cock, then fell heavily skewering herself harder
still down on Lord Medwell's driving cock. "Fuck me," she screamed,
"fucker harder ... harder ... Oh God, fuck it harder!"
And it was her soprano scream that started the sweet upheaval first
in her cunt, then seconds later in her rectum, and then in her clitoris.
She came in all three places -- achieved three different types of
climaxes. And she continued to cum for as long as the men would have
her; until they fell from her in satiated weariness. Even above the
glory of her orgasm, she felt a vague disappointment that the double
fucking of her forever stretched genitals had ended ...
When it was over and the tears had dropped flowing, she lay nude
for a long time just staring up at the ceiling. Her body hurt, but the
greater pain was in her heart. They had stripped her of everything --
pride, dignity, faithfulness. They had made her a wanton adultress,
begging and screeching obscenities. They had used her body and -- she
knew this to be true -- she had used them! They had made her reach
climax after climax ... something no one else had ever been able to do.
She had given them something that her husband had never had.
And overall was the stunning, undeniable fact that she had enjoyed
it ... not the taunts, not the crawling or begging, or debasement and
cruelty ... but the sex act. That she had enjoyed ... sex had been
wonderful. Then she was weeping again as she realized what she must do
to atone for the horrible sin of her wanton submission to two complete
strangers.
