New Erotica 5 Page 6

  ‘This your first cock up the ass?’ the man in front asks.

  I close my eyes and nod as the man behind me pushes into me.

  ‘This’ll take your mind off it,’ the man in front says, laughing, pushing his stiff erection towards my mouth.

  I start to suck on his cock as the man behind me pushes deeper still. The man behind me is taking it nice and slow, inching his hardness into my rectum. When he stops I know that he is all the way in; the thought of it is supremely exciting. Soon he starts to fuck me, slowly at first but then speeding up as I relax into it. I have expected nothing but pain but that is not what I feel. I suck greedily on the cock in my mouth, sucking in my cheeks so that my mouth is nice and slippery.

  The man behind me pushes his fingers against my clit as he fucks me harder. I shudder and climax suddenly, the thrill of orgasm transmitted back to him so that he gasps and climaxes too. As he rolls away the cock in my mouth erupts and I try to swallow more mouthfuls of come, but I am not allowed to. He pulls his cock from my lips and starts to pump it savagely with his hand, spurting thick arcs of sperm across my face and into my hair.

  ‘Suck me now,’ the man behind me commands.

  I turn to him, unable to believe what I have just heard. Vaguely I am aware that my anus is glistening and still leaking his come, and that being on all fours means that it is distended and visible to everybody in the room. My face is dripping with streams of warm white come, thick droplets of it caught in my hair and the taste of it filling my mouth.

  ‘Go on, bitch,’ he whispers, ‘do it.’

  Bitch. That is what I have become. That is what Jasmine has wanted for me. I look back across the room: they are all watching intently, waiting to see just how far I’ll go. I cannot resist.

  There has been no lessening in the strength of his desire. His cock is still hard, coated with the slimy come that he has spurted deep into my rectum. My heart is pounding as I move slowly into place, lips half open, face down low, backside high in the air and fully exposed to an audience of strangers.

  I open my mouth and take his hardness, smoothing my lips down along the glistening length of his flesh. I swallow my taste, the taste of my backside and the taste of his semen that has penetrated it. There is silence as I clean him up, lapping and licking up every trace of his juices. When I look up I see the looks of excitement on the faces of the other men. I am the bitch they have always dreamed of, the woman who will do anything, the slut who debases herself in the service of men. That is how much I love Jasmine, that is what I have to prove to her.

  A moment later one of the black men is in place. His thick erection is soon in my mouth, lovingly licked and sucked, pleasured without complaint. I work my mouth and lips back and forth, greedy for the explosion of come that nestles deep in his balls. He withdraws, turns me over and begins to fuck me, pushing me flat on the floor and taking me roughly from behind.

  While he fucks me another two guys are in place, pushing their cocks into my face. I suck first one and then the other, driven mad with desire as I service three men at once. I climax again, shuddering and crying out as the black man fills my pussy with his hardness. One of the men comes in my mouth and I suck greedily while the other masturbates himself over my breasts.

  When the black man has climaxed in my pussy I am rolled on to my back and another takes his place. As I am being fucked on my back somebody else kneels beside me, turns my face towards him and takes my mouth. One of them massages my breasts, kneading the flesh and then pinching the nipples until I cry out in pain.

  For a while there is nothing but a blur of bodies and pleasure. Somebody else fucks me anally, working his cock in and out until he climaxes. When he has finished he uses his fingers to feed me his come from my anus. Still another makes me kneel so that he can wank his cock between my breasts until he sprays me with thick waves of come that dribble down my chest and dangle like jewels from my nipples.

  I do not know how many men use me. I do not care. This is what Jasmine wanted. This is what I have become for her.

  Finally, I am faced with the second black man. He has been watching and brooding all night. Where some of the others have used me more than once he has held back. Now he stands above me, a tall, imposing figure, ebony-skinned and with a large erect cock that juts threateningly from between his thighs.

  ‘Look at you, slut,’ he murmurs menacingly.

  He has been drinking and there is an angry contempt to his voice. Suddenly I remember myself. I have been so lost in the pleasure that I have forgotten myself. All of my inhibitions, all of my fears, come flooding back. I shrink back on myself, covering myself up with an arm across the chest and another between the thighs. My body is wet and sticky. Spunk pours from my pussy and leaks from my anus. It is smeared across my breasts and down my thighs. My lips are wet with it and my hair is matted together in places. I am worse than a whore. He is right. I am a slut.

  ‘Come on, Clyde,’ one of the other men says, but his heart isn’t in it. Perhaps Clyde has brought them all to their senses too. I feel the anger radiating from him.

  ‘Look at you,’ he repeats. ‘Covered head to foot in spunk. You’re a slut, aren’t you? The worst kind of slut there is.’

  ‘Please …’

  ‘Open your mouth,’ he demands.

  I hesitate and then do as I am told. I have been spanked more than a few times and I do not relish the prospect of being punished by him.

  ‘You’ve still got a face full of spunk.’

  ‘Clyde …’ Jim says.

  ‘Look at her,’ Clyde repeats. ‘You expect me to put my cock inside her?’

  ‘Please, let me go now,’ I whisper.

  Clyde shakes his head. ‘I need to fuck you,’ he tells me. ‘But you’re too dirty. You need cleaning up, woman.’

  He stands in front of me, legs parted, looking down on my cowering figure. As I gaze upwards he takes his semi-erect cock in his hands and holds it towards me. I cry out in shock as the water bursts forth, a thick, warm stream of it aimed directly for my face. He pisses on me. Over my face, across my chest, in my hair. He bathes me in the warmth of his spray, covering me so that my skin glistens as it sweeps away the dried semen that has been caked on me.

  ‘Open your mouth,’ he orders.

  I gaze up at him and he pisses over my face again, across my lips, my cheek, my forehead and into my hair. Slowly, hesitantly, I begin to open my mouth. The first droplets of his fluid pour between my lips and into my mouth. I swallow a mouthful and feel a frisson of arousal ignite deep inside me.

  Jim steps forward a moment later. I get up on hands and knees, pushing my backside up, offering myself to him. I half-turn as he too lets loose, drenching my backside with his golden spray. I feel it running down my back, over my buttocks, dribbling sensuously over my anus, splashing against the bare lips of my sex. I touch myself and cry out with the most intense orgasm of the night.

  I know that I will be fucked again. I have been pissed on to cleanse me so that I can be used once more. My anus, my pussy, my breasts, my mouth. Every part of me is theirs. This is what Jasmine has wanted for me. I seek oblivion in pleasure, and as I lie there, shivering with pleasure, glistening with moisture, I know that I will never be the same again.

  My heart was still pounding as I opened my eyes. The visions were so strong, I could see myself so clearly: naked body glistening, bathed in pleasure and ready to be used again and again.

  Dr Evans was behind me. For a moment there was silence and then I heard a movement. A hand reached across to touch me on the shoulder.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ Dr Evans whispered.

  A hand reached down to touch me. Fingers skilfully worked their way down to unzip my trousers. I gasped softly.

  ‘Just relax,’ Dr Evans said softly.

  My hard cock flexed powerfully as her fingers slipped under my shorts.

  ‘That’s a very powerful fantasy,’ she whispered. ‘I know that you need this.’

 
I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself as a woman once more as Dr Evans began to massage my aching hardness.

  NAOMI’S SECOND

  TALE – HENS

  Lucy Golden

  Thanks to her short story collections, Displays of Innocents and Displays of Experience, Lucy Golden rapidly acquired a reputation for deliciously perverse – and often wet – tales of submission, domination and humiliation.

  The following story is taken from Displays of Experience …

  Wendy shuffled uneasily, rattling the ice cubes in her glass and avoiding my eye until she could finally come out with it. ‘Is this true what I’ve heard about Paul’s last Friday?’

  ‘I don’t know. What have you heard?’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘You want me to go into details?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well then? Is it true?’

  ‘Probably.’ I knew I was sounding childishly sulky and Wendy’s silence was eloquent criticism. ‘Yes.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Naomi! Why?’

  ‘They made me!’

  ‘Oh, come on! You’re an adult. You could have refused.’

  ‘They made me.’ Repetition of the pathetic excuse only confirmed its inadequacy, but I carried on talking to hide the weakness. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘Chris told me,’ Wendy said. After a short pause, she continued. ‘It’s not the end, you know. Carrie’s going to invite you to her hen-night.’

  I frowned. ‘She already has.’

  ‘Yes, but now you’re going to be the entertainment.’

  Alec drove me there, to the wine bar where they had all gathered. We could hear voices and laughter from far down the street and found the door propped open with a chair to let in some cool air and the crowd of them clustered round a table at the far end. Alec pushed me inside, said he would collect me from Carrie’s flat later, and then walked out. I turned back, utterly alone, towards the table of eager, grinning faces.

  I only knew three of them: Wendy, Carrie of course and Natalie, her flat-mate. That was it; the rest I had never met before. It was only just seven o’clock, but the party had obviously been going for some time and they had effectively taken over the whole bar.

  Carrie was full of herself, but she could afford to be: she would soon be off out of it all. She jumped up when she saw me and called me over. ‘Right now, this is Naomi, who you all know about, and for tonight, she’s all ours!’

  Then she went round the table, introducing everyone I didn’t know and ending with the one sitting in the corner, a pretty girl who was by far the youngest of the group and looked barely old enough to be there at all.

  ‘This is Anna. She’s Natalie’s baby sister and only turned eighteen last week. She’s down staying with us for the weekend and we’ve got to look after her, because she’s very innocent.’

  The little face wrinkled briefly before turning back to inspect me again. She had looked intrigued at Carrie’s comments about me and in spite of the frequent giggles, there was an unsettling hardness about the girl. ‘So what do we get to do with her?’

  ‘Anything!’ Carrie answered. ‘Anything we like! From what I have heard about what happened at Paul’s last week, she is game for anything.’

  ‘What shall we do first?’ one of them asked.

  Almost immediately Anna piped up, ‘Let’s make her take her clothes off!’

  ‘Anna! We can’t do that here!’

  ‘In the ladies’ we could!’ The girl’s enthusiasm was childish, but there was no doubting her determination. Clearly she was not the least intimidated by being the baby of the group and a good eight years younger than me and it was her simplicity, her directness that really worried me. Whereas with most people lack of experience means they do not know how to start, with her it meant she did not know when to stop. I turned to Carrie.

  ‘Look, I don’t know what you have in mind or what Paul may have said, but I am certainly not doing anything like that.’

  Anna carried on as if I hadn’t spoken a word. ‘I did it once to a girl at school; I took her clothes away and she had to stay there for hours!’

  ‘Carrie!’ I protested again. ‘I mean it!’ but it was as if I wasn’t there. Anna’s cheery excitement was frighteningly infectious, and when nobody else objected, I looked round the circle of faces and realised no one would. To suggest anything less would now just seem cowardly.

  Anna turned to her sister. ‘Nat, have you got those handcuffs?’

  ‘They’re in Wendy’s car.’

  ‘There you are, then!’ Anna was far too pleased with herself. ‘We can put her in them! Come on!’ She leaped up, caught hold of my arm and started dragging me towards the back of the wine bar. Her sister, Natalie, and Carrie both followed, and also another girl, whom I didn’t know.

  Anna didn’t let go until we were all crammed into the tiny toilets. Then she turned to me. ‘Right then. Take your clothes off.’

  I again looked to Carrie for help. She and I were roughly the same age, easily the oldest ones there, and I felt that made, or at least ought to have made, a bond between us. She seemed to feel nothing, indeed while Anna bubbled in eager excitement, treating the whole affair as little more than an entertaining schoolgirl prank, Carrie stayed menacingly silent. Anna was playing a game; she intended to win, but it was a game none the less. Carrie was in earnest; her eyes brooded with rigid expectation, displaying an explicit understanding of the situation and of the erotic implications which their plans held for me.

  In contrast to both of them the third girl leaned calmly against the door as if bored; so far she had said nothing but when our eyes met she spoke. ‘You might as well do it, you know, because if you don’t, we’ll only tear them off you anyway. Besides, my husband was at Paul’s last weekend, so I know you’re an exhibitionist little tart: you needn’t come over all coy and innocent.’ The calm frankness of her tone made the words all the more menacing.

  When I still didn’t move, Anna grew impatient. ‘Right, you two hold her and I’ll do it.’

  ‘No!’ I said quickly. ‘It’s all right. I’ll do it.’ I reached up to the buttons of my shirt and froze. I suppose I could have refused, I could have resisted and struggled but what would that have achieved? There were plenty more of them outside and if they needed more people to hold me, they would get them. Besides, if they already knew what I had permitted last weekend, on what basis could I pretend outrage now?

  I trembled, looked round the waiting faces and was lost. When both Alec and Paul had beaten me last Friday, it had been glorious. I had felt so totally alive, so fulfilled, but it had been the presence of the other people that made it so. If no one had been there, had seen me being humiliated, and seen how aroused it made me, and how much that increased my humiliation in a magnificent accelerating spiral, the pleasure would not have been comparable. But they had all been men, and now my captors were all women. The evil of so perverted a persecution raised me higher than ever; I was even less a friend, even more a victim, surrounded here by my own sex than I had ever been before. It was that discordant stretching which held me in its grip. Shame and degradation, even the anticipation of appalling pain, pulled me back. Exhilaration, desire and pride pushed me forward.

  So I unbuttoned the shirt, feeling their eyes scrutinising me as my skin and the neat white bra were revealed. The instant I took the shirt off, Natalie grabbed it out of my hand. My bra came next, though I held the cups over my breasts a moment allowing the briefest, lightest caress across my nipples before she snatched that away too, tearing the thin straps over my skin.

  I unzipped the skirt next, slid it down my legs, stepped out of it and handed this to Natalie as well. This left only my knickers, modest enough at the front, but cut high and very revealing across my bottom. Knowing what they would see when I took that last item off, I stepped back until I met the unforgiving cold rim of the basin. Every day I had been checking in the mirror and I knew full well that the evidence of last Friday’s caning wa
s still clearly visible in thick red lines across both cheeks of my bottom. They were a less brilliant scarlet than they had been at first, but they were still undeniably there, clear irrefutable proof of what had been done to me. It could only make me the object of yet further derision.

  Anna was impatient. ‘Come on, take your knickers off. I want to look at you entirely naked.’

  I pushed my knickers down and off, then just stood there clutching them. I didn’t want Natalie to add this final trophy to her bundle, because there was no mistaking their condition. They felt sticky to my touch, and I would not have been surprised if she opened them out to inspect them thoroughly. Nor could I step forward, because although it was bad enough having them all standing in front of me, all unashamedly staring at my breasts and my pubis, it would be worse once they saw my bottom.

  Anna, inevitably, insisted on more. ‘Turn round. Let’s see what the lads did to your bum.’

  I turned slowly and it was Carrie, standing by my side, who immediately gasped.

  ‘God, look at this! Look at the state of her! Here, turn right round and show them.’

  Anna was equally enthusiastic. ‘Wow! That’s brilliant!’

  I don’t know how long they would have spent admiring the fading stripes if Wendy had not come in with the handcuffs. Natalie pulled the knickers out of my hands, but when she remarked how disgusting they were, Anna immediately wanted to see. She carefully peeled them open to peer in at the incriminating gusset and was enraptured and intrigued at the wet stain now revealed.

  Meanwhile, Carrie and Wendy pulled my hands round behind my back before clicking the handcuffs tightly round my wrists. They closed with a firm solid click; obviously real ones, not some flimsy plastic toy.