“ I was just a little girl and was playing at the school playground. Mom had told me to be home in time for supper, so I picked up my things and started for my house. There was a path leading from the school, through the woods and down across the creek by the old foot bridge to the street we lived on. Girls then had a habit of walking with their books tucked in against their chest. As I walked down the path, I dropped a book and bent down to pick it up. I heard something behind me but by the time I turned around, this big man grabbed me and held his hand over my mouth and was dragging me off into the woods. I grabbed his arm and tried to bite him but his jacket prevented that. As he pulled me behind some bushes, he turned me around and slapped me hard across the face, telling me to stop fighting him. He then half carried and half dragged me deeper into the woods. He spun me around and tied me to a tree with a rope he had hidden there. A piece of cloth served as a gag to keep me from screaming. When he was done, I was spread-eagled between two trees with my feet barely on the ground. I couldn’t see his face because he had on a mask that covered most of his features. He put his hands on my chest and felt my titties, which were just beginning to grow. He grabbed my blouse and ripped it open, baring my little training bra my mom had just given me a few weeks before. A strong rip and that too was torn in half and hanging from my arms. He put his hands on my young breasts and pinched my nipples. He then ripped my plaid skirt up from the hem and tossed it to the side. I was then only wearing a pair of cotton panties and they were next to be taken away from me. He tried to rip them, but the material wouldn’t give so he reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife and cut the waist elastic and the ripped them open. He tore the leg elastics and soon the were piled with the rest of my clothes. I was totally naked and he was running his hands all over my nude body. He stopped and removed his trousers and lay them on a fallen log beside him. He wasn’t wearing undershorts and his dick stood out firm and looked huge to me. He told me he would cut me free of the trees if I promised not to try to run. I was petrified with fear and agreed to do as he said. He cut all but one rope loose and left me tied to the tree by one leg. He then ordered me to sit on the log beside the trousers. I did as he ordered and he walked up to me and held his erection up to my mouth, telling me to suck it. As I opened my mouth, he grabbed my hair and forced my head back and forth, moving his dick in and out of my mouth. I did that for a few minutes, until he told me to lay back on the log and spread my legs. As I did, he jerked my legs open and put his hand on my pussy, which was just getting a thin covering of real fine blonde hair. He spit on his fingers and jabbed a finger inside me. It hurt like the dickens when his fat finger pushed against my virginity.

 

The man must have planned to rape a young girl all along, because he dug in his thin jacket and pulled out a small jar of Vaseline. He smeared some on the head of his dick and on my young pussy. I felt him pushing his dick against my pussy and started to struggle. He slapped me across my face and went back to pushing himself into me. I could feel the head forcing my lips open and then beginning to penetrate. It felt like twice its size as it began to go inside me. Just as the head popped inside my lips, it hit the resistance of my hymen. He looked at me with a twisted grin on his face and pushed real hard. I felt a searing pain as his cock entered my virgin hole. He pushed harder and worked it inside me until it felt like it was up under my ribs. I could feel something wet running down the crack of my ass. I found later that it was blood from the torn membrane. He pushed until he was bottomed out in my pussy and then began pumping in and out with his cock. In minutes, he grunted loudly as he filled me with his sperm. After finishing the deed, he turned me over and told me to spread my ass cheeks real wide. He stroked his cock a few times and then placed it at my tight asshole. He began to shove his cock inside my ass and I let out a muffled scream. I felt him burst through and shove his shaft deep inside my ass. The pain was intense as he fucked my tiny opening. After what seemed like a lifetime, he shot a load of his sperm up in my ass.

 

After he had fucked me in all my openings, he pulled his trousers on and disappeared into the woods after tying me back up in the spread-eagled position. It was beginning to get dark by then and I was overcome by fear of the dark woods as well as the possibility of the rapist’s return. After a couple of hours’ time, I heard voices calling my name. I tried to answer but the gag kept me from being heard. I recognized the voices as my mom and dad. I could see flashlights searching the woods for me. The lights went past and it grew quiet again. I was all alone and cold and naked. As it grew silent, I could hear the town clock striking eleven. After that I just simply dozed off or passed out. I woke up sometime later, feeling someone cutting me free of my bindings. When I opened my eyes, Daddy was cutting me loose and Mom was holding a flashlight. Daddy took off his jacket and covered my nakedness and carried me back to the path. Mom lit the way with her flashlight and soon, we had crossed the foot bridge and were climbing the steps to our front porch. Mom unlocked the door and ran to the phone to call the police. Within minutes, an ambulance and a police car were in our driveway and I was being put in the back of the ambulance.

 

The doctor in the Emergency Room at the hospital had to examine me and then had to sew my ass up where the guy had raped my tiny rectum. They kept me overnight, but Mom and Dad took turns sitting with me. After the story got out to the town about my attack, the kids at school were always teasing and tormenting me. We finally ended up moving to a town a few hours away and started over. We moved during the summer vacation from school and when school started, I went on the first day and acted like nothing happened. I saw the janitor working in the yard and something just brought back the memories if my attack. Then it hit me, the shoes and trousers were the same ones I saw my attacker wearing. I ran back inside the schoolhouse and stay there until school was out. Mom had driven me that morning and she was there as the last bell rang for the day. I ran to her car and told her about the janitor. She asked me if I was sure it was him. I told her that the trousers had a hole in one knee, just as the rapist had that day. She drove home quickly and told my father. He was furious and started to call the police but stopped and put down the phone. He said it would only make it bad for me to have to face him in court. Dad was a big guy and didn’t take shit from anyone. He told mom to get her jacket and follow him. He told me to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone. He and Mom jumped in his truck and took off for the school.

They parked the truck in back of the school between a couple of old buses and went to the back door. The door was unlocked so Mom and Dad slipped silently inside. They could hear the floor buffer running and followed the sound. Dad reached under his jacket and drew his .357 he always carried. My mom was trying to think of a good way to get even with this creep and decided to strip down and give him something to look at. She quickly peeled her clothes and walked down the hall towards the sound. As she rounded the corner of the hall, she saw him with his back to her and got his attention. As the guy turned around, he saw my mother standing perfectly naked and shut off the buffer. Mom gave him some bull story, telling him she was a new teacher and that she wanted to make friends. After giving him a provocative smile, she told him  to drop his trousers. He looked Mom over and unbuckled his trousers and dropped his shorts. He was already hard from seeing my mom’ naked body. Before he had a chance to step pout of his clothes, Mom reached out and grabbed his cock. Twisting it hard, she asked him if this is what he fucked her little girl with. At that cue, Dad stepped around the corner with his gun aimed at the man’s head. He told the man to answer the question. Dad told him where and when the attack had taken place and said the guy had a choice. Mom stepped back out of the way and Dad put the gun to the guy’s cock. Dad reached into the small of his back and retrieved a hunting knife that was extremely sharp. He handed it to the guy and then re-aimed the gun at the man’s ear, telling him to choose between cutting his own cock off or Dad would scatter his brains all over the hallway. Mom reached down and grabbed his cock and stroked it a few times, until it was hard again. She then told him it would be easier to do if he cut it while it was all big and hard. The man looked down at his cock, then the knife. He heard Dad draw back the hammer of the magnum and tell him that he was running out of time to choose. Dad then lowered the gun to the man’s cock and balls, telling him he just might make the choice for him and that dying quickly would be to easy on him. The man closed his eyes and drew the sharp blade over his hardened cock and screamed as his cock was separated from his body. Blood was flying everywhere. Mom and Dad had stepped back to avoid the flying blood and stood watching as the man screamed with pain and then fell to the floor. Mom quickly pulled her clothes back on and she and Dad ran down the hall and jumped in his truck after picking up the hunting knife. They drove quickly but not fast enough to draw attention. As they turned onto the highway, they heard the sound of sirens heading in the direction of the school.

 

A story in the newspaper the next day reported how the janitor of a nearby school had injured himself by falling into a window at the school. No mention was made of the visit from two angry parents”. 

 

Mom went on to say that the janitor left his job at the school and moved away after that. She told me that a couple of years after that, she and my grandparents got into a relationship that would last until Mom met my dad and they got married and even longer but that’s another story ---Another time!

So we left the hotel, and climbed into the back of the big limo. As we were being driven to the club, Graham began to explain what kind of club it was.
“I’m sure you’ll like this place.”
“Why? What kind of club is it?”
“You could say it’s a kind of cross between a lap dancing club and a karaoke.”
“You what? How on earth can those two go together?”
“Well you see the kind of man who frequents this club must obviously like seeing women dancing provocatively, and he also has to be wealthy enough to back this up. But the club doesn’t have any paid dancers or strippers. So the ladies who come to the club are girls who like to show off their assets, so to speak; and as the men always show their appreciation with cash, they also leave a little richer than when they arrive.”

I guess my face showed the apprehension I felt knowing this was obviously the fate they expected me to endure. He continued,
“Don’t look so worried. I’m sure you won't have any problems paying for your enrolment.”
“Enrolment? I don’t understand.”
“Well; men join by paying for membership at a cost of one hundred pounds. But ladies can enter free, and providing their first performance generates in excess of the one hundred pounds membership fee; that not only entitles them to membership, they also get to keep fifty-percent of what ever they’ve made. But it also entitles them to free admission in the future, where they can keep fifty-percent of what ever they pull when they’re on stage.”

If this was his way of reassuring me it wasn’t working, it was beginning to sound more and more scary with every word. Then I guess Peter picked up on my anxiety, and he said,
“Don’t let him worry you my dear. All you’ll need to do is model a few of my costumes, and they’ll be eating out of your hand.”
“Eating from her snatch you mean.”
This was Graham’s sneering retort.

I looked at Peter,
“Do you mean I’ll be expected to get up on stage, and then parade around in those skimpy panties you make?”
“Yes. But that won't be a problem. Will it?”
“I I don’t think I’ll have the nerve to pose in front of a room full of strangers.”
“Don’t you kid yourself. The way you lapped up the attention you got in the hotel, I have no doubt in your ability. As soon as you see the reaction your posing causes, I think you’ll be displaying not only my lingerie to its best advantage, but also offering the punters a view of your intimate treasures.”

I blushed, and even though I knew he was trying to pay me a compliment, it still didn’t make me feel any easier. Then without warning, the car came to a halt, and the drivers voice came through the speakers,
“Bitches.”
Graham opened his door and even before I climbed out, I could see the small neon sign ‘Bitches’. We climbed from the car, and I could then see we were in a dimly lit back street. The only evidence to indicate the presence of anything as sophisticated as a club was that illuminated sign. I followed Graham as he descended down the dark stairway. He’d only turned into the staircase, and taken one step, when the staircase lit-up. It was illuminated by rows of tiny spotlights sunk into the walls inches from step height, and even some lights in the actual steps shining directly upwards.

So as I followed Graham, with Peter behind me, we descended down below ground level. As we neared the bottom few steps, the door at the bottom of the staircase opened, and a big muscle-bound doorman appeared. From his vantage point, and with the direction of the light beams, he would obviously be getting a clear view up into my crotch area. And again I was conscious of the skimpiness of the thong I was wearing. Graham was instantly recognised by the doorman,
“Good evening Mr Spencer. Is the young lady a member?”
“No Terry, I’m afraid she’s not.”
“So will she be paying for membership or performing?”

Graham looked across to me,
“Do you have a hundred quid (£100) on you?”
It was obvious I didn’t, but I shook my head all the same.
“Well Terry, it looks like the little lady will be taking to the stage.”
Peter again seeing my look of fear tried to offer words of comfort,
“Don’t worry Mary. You’ll see. Once you’re inside and you get into the swing of things, it’ll be easy.”

We walked in and were seated at a table alongside the stage. To be more accurate, the stage was actually a large circle, maybe twenty feet across. And all the tables were positioned around its edge. There was a narrow open walkway, similar to a catwalk, which led from the stage to a pair of heavy curtains; behind which I supposed were the dressing rooms for stage performers. The stage and catwalk were only around eighteen inches high, and the stage had little sets of stairs leading up to it from in between each pair of tables. It was well lit with lights from all around its edge, and even before we’d arrived at our table I could see the girl who was currently giving her performance. Well far from Peter’s words of comfort, now I was inside the club and could see what was happening on stage, I was even more worried. The girl was on her back in the middle of the stage area on a big cushion, which must have had some kind of revolving support under it. Her legs were high in the air, and a big black man was fucking her in a very leisurely and cavalier manner. As he fucked, his legs would give the occasional push, turning them both, so that all the audience got an unrestricted view. He was obviously used to this kind of performance, and liked the attention of his audience.

As we all sat around the table, a waiter came to take the drinks order, but Peter again advised me to steer clear of alcohol. By the time my coke arrived, the big black man was asking the audience where they wanted him to shoot his cum. He’d point to her face and men would throw money onto the stage. Then he’d point to her breasts, and again a shower of money would fall on the stage like confetti. He indicated various parts of the girl’s body, obviously including her pussy. But the one which brought the largest shower of money was when he lifted her legs high, and pointed his cock at her bottom. This was obviously going to be the winning option, and after spitting out a mouthful of disgusting spittle onto his fingers, he proceeded to work it into her bottom. He then took great delight in forcing his shaft deep up inside her, and in only a few moments, his movements indicated he was delivering his cum. This was completed to a rousing accompaniment of applause and another shower of money.

Meanwhile, although subconsciously this sexual display was sowing the seeds for an arousal, consciously, I became all the more nervous; knowing my turn on stage was getting all the closer. As the couple on stage took their bows, and gathered up the money they’d attracted, the stage lights dropped to a subdued glow, and a spotlight picked-up a man appearing from the curtains, and making his way out to the stage.
“Well let’s have a big round of applause for a wonderful display there by our little Helen, and ably assisted by the big boy Dirk.”
Some of the audience responded, but most of the audience took their opportunity to resume normal conversation and the like. (Visiting the toilets, ordering drinks etc.) During the time it took for the stage to be cleared of the large cushion, contraption under it and the evidence of sticky liquids, the man on stage (who was obviously a comedian/announcer), went into a stream of jokes, which almost nobody appeared to be listening to. Peter caught my attention, and pointed up into the ceiling above the centre of the stage.

“Can you see that curtain?”
Hanging high in the air was a light weight curtain, made in a circular fashion.
“Yes. What is that for?”
“Once the stage is cleared, they’ll bring out a rack with costumes on it. And the curtain will give you an enclosure to get changed in. Each hanger will be numbered, so just put on each costume in order. Once you come out on stage, it’s up to you to display the costume to get the best reaction from the men watching.”
“Do I have to dance or what?”
“It’s up to you, what ever you feel comfortable with. If you want to dance and there is any particular music you want?”
“No, I don’t think I could. I’m not even sure I’ll find the courage to get up on the stage, let alone come out wearing a skimpy costume.”
“You will. You forget you took my little magic tablet. By now, you’ll find once you get the slightest sign of arousal, you’ll let go without even knowing you’re doing it.”
“If you say so. But I don’t feel very aroused right now.”
 
As he had said, while the lights were still dimmed, the stage hands had wheeled out a rack, but in the dim lighting, it was difficult to distinguish what clothes were on it. Then as they left the stage the circular curtain descended from the ceiling, and enclosed an area around the rack, about five feet across. It was at this point the announcer announced,
“Gentlemen. Can I have your attention? The act is nothing new; in fact I think I can go as far as to say it’s an old favourite here at Bitches. But the girl modelling for us tonight is a fresh face, and I’m assured a fresh little pussy to match. So lets all give an encouraging welcome to Mary; who is about to present the latest creations from the Erotic Nights collection.”
Peter and Graham both gave me the nod, and Graham said,
“Ok girl, its time for you to show them what you can do.”
I slowly rose to my feet, and as soon as I was standing, the spotlight moved from the announcer who was exiting the stage, and picked me out. With that, suddenly every eye in the room was focused my way. As I began my slow climb up the three small steps up to the stage, it was as if someone else had taken over my senses. I could feel myself swaying my hips in an exaggerated manner. And instead of just making my way directly to the curtains, I was walking the perimeter of the stage. But not just walking aimlessly, as I passed each table I’d turn and stoop. Not spreading my legs wantonly, or crudely displaying my all; no, just teasing, and wetting the appetites of the open mouthed onlookers.

Where this performance came from I can't imagine, but it was having an effect, even before I started to model the skimpy costumes. Every flash and enticement would bring forth a shower of notes; and even though I didn't stop to pick them up, I could see they were mostly £20 notes! By the time I’d entered the curtain enclosure, the perimeter of the stage was strewn with money. As I disappeared into my enclosure, the audience began to chant, and I knew I couldn’t waste any time getting changed into the first costume. But something else was also obvious now, the curtains were made of an almost see-through material, so although the audiences view might have been obscured slightly, I certainly hadn’t got total privacy. But for some reason this didn’t faze me at all, and I stripped naked; then put on the first of the costumes.

I was soon out on stage, and posing from table to table, and if the money that was landing on the stage was any indication, then the audience liked what they saw. I won't go into detail about each and every costume, as even in my mind they all merged from one to the next. But I started with what you might call a simple one piece swimming costume, and progressed via ten different ones until the last one was the smallest of thongs imaginable. But even this last one which didn’t even have a top to cover my breasts, and in truth, the bottom half didn’t cover my pussy completely; I displayed with a brashness I still can't explain. As I took what I thought were my final bows walking around the edge of the stage, I heard the announcer’s voice over the speaker system.

“Right gentlemen. Once you’ve finished showing your appreciation for the new girl Mary, I'm thinking maybe there are a few of you virile young bucks out there who would like to come on stage and offer your services to help our newcomer to cash in on what looks like being a profitable night out.”
At this point various men began to leave their tables and make their way up onto the stage. The announcer lined them up across the centre of the stage. By now of course, the stage hands had removed the rack of costumes, and the curtain was back to its position high in the ceiling. But more ominously, the stage hands had also brought out a big round cushion similar to the one the girl before me have been having sex on; at this point they left it at the end of the walkway out of the way of things happening centre stage. They were now busy collecting all the money from around the stage.

I tentatively made my way to the edge of the stage with the intention of going back to my table, when the announcer called,
“Hey Mary, don’t you want your dress?”
I turned and could see he was holding my little red dress as he stood centre stage in the spotlight. I walked back and took it from him, and began to step into it.
“I don’t know about you men out there. But even though I can see as much of the little lady as she puts her dress on, as I could when she was busy taking it off; it somehow doesn’t seem as enticing this way around.”

I ignored his remark, and completed fastening the buttons on my dress. But it seems he wasn’t finished with me yet. Again as I turned and was about to walk off stage, he took hold of my hand and turned me back towards him.
“Don’t go just yet sweetie. Look at these virile young studs we have lined-up for you.”
I turned and looked at the eight men all lined-up across the widest part of the stage.
“Wouldn’t you like to try one of these men for size?”
I didn’t answer, but just dropped my head low and shook it.
“Well lads, looks like she isn’t over enthusiastic about your company. Maybe if you were all to show her what you’re offering.”

With that, all eight men began to strip, and in less than a couple of minutes, all eight of them were stood there with just the skimpiest of posing pouches covering, but not hiding the size and shape of there cocks.
“Well Mary my dear, has that tempted you to change your mind?”
I did look back, and for some unknown reason, I couldn’t stop myself from scanning from one to the next until I’d assessed them all. Then he snapped me out of my trance,
“Well? Seen anything you fancy?”
I turned back, and again dropped my head as I shook it to indicate I wasn’t interested.

He kept hold of my hand as he again spoke to the audience,
“Ok gentlemen. I’ll bring each of these lads to centre stage one at a time, and if you give me a show of hands, we'll pick out a partner for young Mary here.”
So that was what he did, as each of the men came to the front centre stage, the audience voted with a show of hands, and in no time they’d selected a big muscle-bound white guy. He stood at least six-foot six tall, with big broad shoulders. But if his body was big, his dick was if anything proportionally even bigger. It hung in its soft silk pouch, and every step he took it swung from side to side. And unless he’d actually got something else in there to enhance its looks, his drooping soft dick must have been a good ten or more inches long. I can only imagine what it could look like when he got aroused! He’d rival a fucking horse!

As I stood there gazing in total amazement the announcer said (via his microphone, so everyone else could also hear),
“Well Mary, it looks like we’ve got your interest at last. Now they’ve selected a suitable stud to match your delicate charms, how do you feel about giving us a little show?”
As I realised I’d been staring down at this guy's pouch, I coloured up bright red, hung my head low and shook it again as I tried to pull my way free from his grip.
“Hold up there my dear. We can all tell you’re interested. And from your performance just now, we can see you’ve got what it takes. So why are you being so shy?”
I tried to whisper into his ear, but unknown to me he moved his mic, and it picked up my answer,
“Please, I just want to go back to the table.”

“But you haven’t even found out how much money you made with your last little show.”
At this point one of the stage hands brought over the money they'd picked up from the stage and told him the total.
“It appears your cut is one thousand one hundred and sixty pounds; not a bad little earner. But as she seems a little reluctant to take on our stud here, how about letting her know what she’s turning down. Come on gents, let’s see your pledges.”
With that the audience began to place money on their tables, and one of the stagehand went around counting it, but then putting it back on the table it came from. When he’d counted the money on all the tables he came and again whispered into the announcer’s ear.

“Well gentlemen; its plain to see you all want Mary here to perform with Olaf. And just for the record, that is the highest amount we’ve ever had for a newcomer. Just over two and a half grand. So little lady, are you going to turn that down? Two thousand six hundred, lovely pound notes.”
I got a lump in my throat when I realised just how much money I would be turning down. With the money I’d already been given for displaying those costumes; that would be two months wages for my husband. But turn it down I had to, I couldn’t willingly do something like that in front of an audience, unless it was absolutely necessary.

I looked up to his smiling face, and shook my head. Again he spoke into the mic so the whole club could hear, but his question was aimed at me,
“You can't mean that? You’re turning down over two grand for just one little ten minute romp?”
I dropped my head.
“Ok, back to your table, but if you leave the stage, and decide to come back again later, we can't guaranteed the pledge you've just been given."
With that he loosed my hand and as I turned to walk off the stage a ripple of dissenting voices began to build. It gradually turned into a chant,
“Mary. Mary. WE want Mary. Mary. Mary. WE want Mary.”

As I sat myself down at our table the announcer came across and knelt at the edge of the stage, and held his outstretched arm towards where I sat, beckoning or almost begging me to return to the stage,
“Come Mary. Surely you haven’t the heart to disappoint all these eager gentlemen?”
Graham lent across and whispered in my ear,
“What are you waiting for; I’m sure your Gerry wouldn’t want to miss out on two and a half grand. Especially earned so easily.”
I shook my still lowered head. Then Graham whispered something in the announcer’s ear.

The announcer then stood back up to face his audience,
“Well gentlemen, it looks like this little newbie needs to get her husbands blessing. And I’ve been told that his attention is liable to be influenced by the sound of money. So before our go-between seeks his approval, is there anyone who wants to up the ante?”
There was a general murmuring from all around the room, and as I looked around, extra cash was being placed on tables. Again, one of the stagehands went around counting the money, and again he whispered into the announcer’s ear. He then looked across to our table as he announced through his mic,
“Right sir; tell her husband she’s on for fifty quid short of three and a half grand. And that’s a record for anyone, newbie or otherwise.”

Graham got to his feet and walked out into the entrance lobby, and with that the announcer asked who wanted to be next up on stage. Within a minute there was another girl up on stage, and as she began her erotic dance, a gleaming chrome pole descended down from the ceiling centre stage. Once it had completed its descent, she then proceeded to perform a strip and pole dance. After removing each and every item of clothing, she would circle the stage perimeter, displaying her charms, and enticing the audience, to solicit what rewards she could from them.

Graham returned, and told me Gerry was on the phone in the lobby, and he wanted to talk to me. I went out, and a bouncer in the lobby handed me the phone.
“Hello. Gerry; are you there?”
“Yes. Is that you Mary? Are you alright?”
“Yes it’s me, and I’m ok. Graham said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Well he’s just told me what’s going on. He says you’re with some of his friends, and they’re willing to pay you four and a half grand if you let one of them have sex with you.”
“It’s not quite like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I’m in a private club, and yes they will pay me if I have sex with a guy, but not that much.”

Just then Graham pressed the privacy button on the phone, I hadn’t realised he’d followed me out and had been standing right behind me. Then whilst holding the button so Gerry couldn’t hear us, he said,
“It's over four and a half grand if you include the money you got for modelling those costumes. And if you don’t fuck, you'll loose that money. After all it was Peter's stuff you were modelling, so he should be the one who gets that. So get back on the phone and tell that snivelling creep of a husband it’s actually four thousand five-hundred and sixty pounds riding on just one fuck!”
He then released the mute button.
“Mary, are you there?”
“Yes. Sorry, someone was talking to me.”
“I thought we’d been cut-off.”
“No I’m here.”

“You were just saying, they aren’t offering that much. Well how much are the offering?”
“Does it matter? Didn’t you hear what I said, it isn’t just some of his friends; we’re in a club. And if I do it, they’ll all be watching.”
“Well yes. But if they’re paying real big sums of money, it has to be worth thinking about.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d just told him the offer was for me to be fucked in public, and he still wanted to know how much money they were offering.
“The man who they want me to have sex with is hung like a horse. Is that what you want me to do, perform like a whore to earn you some money?”

I listened, but the phone was silent. Then Graham again held the mute button,
“You silly little cow. Do you realise, if you leave here now, you’ll go home with nothing?”
“At least I’ll have a little of my pride. Maybe I have prostituted myself with you and Peter, but that was to keep Gerry out of jail. But I won't sink that low for the sake of money.”
Graham took the receiver from my hand and as he released the mute button,
“Hi Gerry lad. I’ve been thinking. I know you’ve been after doing a part-ex with that old heap of yours for some time now. And I know you’ve been trying to buy Tony’s BMW. Well here’s my offer, my BM is only three years old, and it’s got to be worth nine grand of anybodies money. I’ll take your old Audi, and the money your little lady makes tonight, and you can have my Beemer.”

There was a pause, and Graham again spoke,
“What’s up, cat got your tongue?”
“I I don’t know Mr Spencer. I can see I’d be stupid to turn you down, but its Mary, she don’t seem keen.”
“Come on my boy. It’s time for you to grow up. Believe me lad; she’s got more cunt there than you can satisfy. And never you mind what she’s been telling you; I can show you a video that will prove, once she gets her legs up, she's not bothered who's on top, she fucks like its going out of fashion. Come on all she needs if your consent. You’ll regret it if you miss this chance. Ok I’ll put the little lady back on.”
Then as he passed me the phone,
"Here, I think he wants another word."

“Mary?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear what he said?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?
“Well I was just wondering. Is it right?”
“Is what right? Me giving a fucking show on stage with a man called horse, to earn you a new car. What do you think?”
“No Mary. Don’t be like that. I mean is it right that once you actually start having sex, it doesn't really matter who's doing it to you?”
Now what could I say to this, if I denied it, I knew that Graham would take great delight in showing all the video and still shots he’d taken of me. And I was also aware, my facial expressions during some of this video would substantiate Graham’s claim.

“I can't help what happens once we’ve started the actual sex. It’s just something my body does. But it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I love them or anything.”
“I know that, but if once you’ve started it feels ok, then it has to be worth thinking about. After all, my car isn’t worth much over four grand, so if I get Mr Spencer’s Beemer; that means your one little sex session will be worth over five grand. Do the maths, that’s a grand a minute.”
Sarcastically I said,
“It might be if he's finished as quickly as you. But I’ve seen one of these men performing on stage with a girl. And if this monster is anything like the one I watched, he’ll be pounding that giant cock of his into me for a good thirty minutes.  Ramming it in and out at least once every second, that’s one thousand eighteen hundred times I’ll take his length. It’s my guess this guy’s cock is at least fourteen inches long. You do the maths. That's not even twenty pence an inch!” (Mental arithmetic always was my strong suit.)
“Oh come on Mary. Please. He can't be that big. And anyway, if it’s too big it won't go in. You can only take what your pussy is made to take.”
“So you want me to go out on stage and let this stranger split me wide open with the whole club watching?”
“Don’t say it like that. Just tell Mr Spencer you’ll do it, I’m sure he’ll make sure you’re ok.”

“CRASH!”
I slammed the receiver back down that hard it’s a wonder it didn’t break. I turned and stomped back into the club, with Graham following me. As I sat down I saw Peter giving Graham an inquisitive look, but as there was now another girl on stage writhing around with a lighted candle in each hand, neither of them spoke, but Graham answered with a big grin. Peter obviously understood, as he leant back in his chair, and took a big draw on his cigar, a satisfied smile beamed from his face. Within seconds of us returning to the table, the announcer had made his way around the floor, not on stage, and was sidling up to Graham, who whispered in his ear. Then his face turned to a smile, and off he disappeared into the shadows.

I sat back in a trance waiting for this girl to finish her act, and my inevitable downfall to commence. Suddenly I was aware of someone placing their hand on my shoulder, and as I turned to see who it was the announcer whispered,
“Come with me.”
I looked at Peter; as if asking ‘should I go with him?’ He just nodded and gave me a smile. I rose to my feet and followed him out to the lobby, and then into a side office where he handed me a very legal looking document. As I tried to make sense of the legally worded jargon, he said,
“It’s just our standard consent form. If you read it all, and can understand what it means, you’ll be the first one who has. It’s just covering us in case you suddenly go to the police tomorrow, and cry rape. It basically says you’re willingly taking part in a fucking session, with an audience.”

“Why do you need that; surely every man out there is a witness to me getting on stage voluntarily?”

“It doesn’t really apply in your case, but its club policy, no waiver form, no performance. And that means no money. It’s really to cover girls who are roll playing; pretending to be for instance, a night nurse making her rounds on her own, and several patients take hold of her and she gets gang raped. See to be in character, she’ll be saying no, and even crying out, ‘RAPE! RAPE!’.”
“Oh, I see. But I still can't see why I need to sign one.”
“Like I said, club policy, no waiver form, no performance; and that means no money.”
I scrawled my signature and handed him the form. He slipped it into the desk draw and said,
“Ok, let’s get you ready.”

As he left the office, I followed but instead of leading me back into the club to where Peter and Graham were I assumed still waiting; he turned the opposite way down the lobby, and led me into a different room. This was obviously a dressing room, as it had five stools, each with its own mirror in front of it, bordered with strip lights. The whole of the rest of the room was crammed with racks of costumes. I say costumes, not like the beachwear ones I’d modelled, these were clothes, but more like fancy dress or theatrical. From what I could see you could dress up as any kind of character you could dream of.

“Why do I need to come in here?”
He didn’t answer immediately, but he was busy sorting along a rack. It only took him half a minute to find and pull out a nun’s habit. He turned and held it out with his face supporting a big beaming smile.
“There you are. Sister Mary. What could be more perfect? You can go out on stage fully clothed, and kneel down to say your prayers. I’ll get Olaf and a few others to dress as soldiers. That way you can fight and struggle as much as you want. The one thing that can screw-up an operation like ours is if a girl like you says she will one minute. And then the next minute, gets cold feet, and backs out when she sees it's for real. This way, we don’t have that problem, you’ve signed to take a fucking, and any cries for help are just acting out the part.”

With that he handed me the complete outfit and left the room. At first I was horrified, but the more I thought about my situation the more I felt at ease with it. I didn’t have to be a whore, or submit willingly. I could fight like a cat, and Gerry would still get his money, cos I’d get fucked no matter what. I stripped and started to put on all the heavy coarse underwear that came with the nun’s costume.

I’d just put the vest/bodice over my head and was busy getting it straight when the door opened and in trouped six men. One of them dashed across and slipped his hand in between my naked legs. I dropped my hands to reach behind me and took hold of his wrist. But another pair of men had joined in, and one each side began to pull my ankles slowly apart. My hands on the intruders wrist were pointless as now my legs were opening, he just slipped his fingers under and up into my pussy.

I pleaded,
“Please don’t.”
Of course I never expected them to listen, but the big man who I knew was called Olaf, barked out,
“You heard her.”
“Fuck you. She’s ours for the taking.”
The words had hardly left his lips before I heard a frightening,
“CRACK!”
And then seconds later,
“THUD!”
Olaf had struck the man with a blow to the head and he’d dropped like a stone hitting his head on the floor as he landed. Just at that second the announcer came in,
“What the fucks going on?”
“That pig needed some wax clearing from his ears. When he comes around, tell him not to come anywhere near this little girl.”
“You big oaf. She’s here to be fucked.”
“I know that, and I’m the one who's going to do it. But that doesn’t mean she has to put up with dickheads like him until we get on stage. She told him to leave-off.”
“I sometimes wonder if it's worth putting up with your fucking attitude. I’ve told you before, once they've signed, they fuck. It’s that simple."
He then turned and addressed the rest of the men,
"Now all of you get fucking ready, or they’ll be a riot out there as well.”

As the announcer left the room I turned to Olaf and said,
“Thank you. But I didn’t want to get you into trouble.”
“No trouble. Are you ok? You do want to fuck with me?”
I know I didn’t, but I had to say yes, otherwise my Gerry would be so disappointed.
“Yes. I’m ok.”
“But I could see you were dead-set against it earlier; and that was when you would only have been fucked by me. How come you’re now saying yes to a gang rape?”

“Gang rape? Nobody mentioned anything about gang rape.”
“Well why do you think this lot are getting all dressed-up?”
“I was told they would be holding me, so it would look like you were raping me.”
“You’ve signed a waiver form and once you appear on stage, not only this lot will follow me, but anyone from the audience. Mark my words, you’ve created a stir out there, they’ll be queuing-up. It’s my bet you’ll take at least thirty men before you go home.”
I was obviously horror struck,
“Oh my god! What can I do?”

“So I can take it from your reaction, you don’t want any fucking?”
“Well my husband wants me to bring back the money they pledged, but that was supposed to be for having sex with one man; you.”
“That won't happen now. You should have said yes on stage. You won't get a penny now unless you roll-play, and that will be a free-for-all.”
“How can I get out now? He’s got my signature. What ever I do or say, they can claim they thought it was playacting.”
“It won't be easy, but if you trust me, and do exactly what I say, I’ll try to get you out.”

I looked up at this giant of a man, now in an army uniform, complete with those black markings that you sometimes see on the faces of battle ready soldiers. He looked every inch like a fierce and ungodly animal. My first thoughts were, if I agree to do as he tells me, he’s bound to make sure he gets his fuck no matter whether he helps me out of this mess or not. But then I reasoned, if I don’t follow him, I’m doomed anyway. So even though I didn’t trust him to have my best interests at heart, I reasoned he was my best or only option.

“Please help me; I’ll do what ever you tell me.”
“Ok, you walk out now, and I’ll be right behind you. But what ever you do don’t try to make a run for freedom unless I tell you. And if I tell you ‘up’, as I bend down towards you, you leap up onto my shoulder and hang onto me for dear life. Now let’s go.”
I got up from the stool I’d been sitting on and began to walk towards the door at the far end of the dressing room, the one I now knew led to the stage. As I glanced back, I saw him pick up a big stout baton, about the size of a baseball bat, and then he marched right up close following my every footstep.
As we reached the curtains, we could hear there was another act already performing on stage, and by parting them slightly, we could both get a glimpse to see how near she was to her finale. As it was, the girl on stage was performing various poses, or moves, with a wand to which was attached a long ribbon which curled and twirled as she went head over heals around the stage. This was the kind of thing I’d associate with a rhythmic gymnast, but as she wasn't wearing any panties, it kind of threw a new meaning on every stretch and tumble. I guess we’d been waiting no more than two minutes before she had completed her act and was taking her bows, and then collecting her money.

Just at that moment, the announcer appeared at our side and asked Olaf,
“Are you ready?”
“We are.”
And with that he grabbed the mic from the announcer, and pushed me through the curtains; he continued with,
“But I’ll do the introductions.”
And as he shoved me out onto the stage and followed closely behind me,
“Go on, but stick close.”

I was catapulted out into the spotlight, and as I stumbled past the girl who was returning to the dressing room, I could hear Olaf over the speaker system.
“Right gentlemen. I’m sorry to announce a change to the show. As you are I’m sure aware, little Mary is new to this game, and she isn’t yet confident enough to perform. I know you were told different.”
At this point the announcer was also out on stage and trying to take hold of the mic. Olaf lifted up his baton, and the announcer seeing he meant business, backed off.
“I know you’re all disappointed, and believe me, so am I. But even though she might have signed a consent form, she's changed her mind now. I’m telling all of you; anyone who touches her will be guilty of rape.”

By now there were big doormen climbing up onto the stage from all around us, and Olaf was circling around with me tucked in front of him, his free hand high in the air threatening anyone who came close with the big baton.
“Ok, make a way clear, we’re leaving the stage.”
Slowly the circle of doormen parted, and we gradually made our way to the steps leading back to the floor area. As we slowly made our way forwards, the angry men closed up behind us, and the ones in front begrudgingly parted to allow us through. I never thought we’d reach the exit, but reach it we did, and we were soon outside in the cool night air.

As the door closed behind us, it was obvious we had left via a different door to the one I arrived at, and we were now in a basement car park. I’d expected us to be followed out, but not one head appeared from the door. I looked up at this giant of a man and asked,
“Won’t they follow us?”
“Not now you’re outside, the form you signed doesn’t cover any activity out here.”
“Where are we?”
“This is a multi-storey car park. We can use those stairs to get back up to ground level.”

With that he walked me across to a stairway, and up we climbed. As we appeared out in the street, the big limo arrived and pulled up alongside us and the door opened. Peter and Graham were in the back, and Graham lent out from the door and began a slow hand-clap,
“Some performance. A costly one; but a good performance never-the-less. Well are you getting in?”
“I I don’t know, what are you going to do to me if I get in?”
“Take you home, what else.”
I looked past Graham and my question was directed at Peter,
“Can I trust you to take me straight home?”

Olaf put his hand on my shoulder, and before anyone in the car answered, he’d pulled me aside, and stepped in himself. He then lent out to me and gave me his hand to usher me in. As my head appeared in the car, Olaf said,
“You can now.”
As I’d said before this was a big stretched limo, and Olaf and me sat with our backs to the driver, facing Peter and Graham. So although face to face there was a good five or more feet between us.
As we dropped back into the seats, Graham looked at Olaf, and said sarcastically,
“Come in, make yourself at home.”
Then he added,
"I wanted to have a word with you anyway"

Olaf was not a man to be intimidated, and instead of letting Graham take control of the conversation, he moved forwards to the edge of his seat, and pointed that big baton directly at Graham’s head,
“You pig! Men like you make me sick. You bring nice young girl to a shit hole like that, and then force her to behave like an animal.”
Graham looked scared, but he did try to regain the situation,
“Now hang on a minute. She came with us of her own free will. We weren’t forcing her to do anything. And anyway, who are you to criticise. You would have been the one fucking her guts out.”

“Crack!”
I guess there wasn't any real force behind the blow, but Olaf had just prodded his baton into Graham’s forehead, and the crack was audible. And judging by the way Graham grabbed his head and dropped it momentarily into his lap, I guess it hurt plenty.
“I fuck only girls who want to be fucked. And I wouldn’t be doing that if I had money like you. You might be able to buy trash like me to get your kicks, but there are depths even I won't stoop to. Now listen to me.”

At this point he shook his baton towards both Peter and then back to Graham who had now lifted his head back up. Incidentally, by now a big lump had already appeared on his forehead.
“I’m going to make it my business to talk to this little girl tomorrow, and if either of you have done anything to her, or arranged for anyone else to do anything to her that she isn’t happy with. Then you had better disappear from the face of the planet. I’ll hunt you down and rip your guts out. Now stop this fucking car.”

Graham and Peter both looked ashen faced, as Graham lent across pressed the button and spoke into the little grill by his side.
“Ok Jimmy. You can pull up here.”
The voice came back through the speakers,
“But sir, we’re miles from anywhere, and on a motorway.”
Graham looked across at Olaf, as if asking if he still wanted to have the car stopped. Olaf used his baton and pushed Graham in the chest forcing him along the seat towards Peter. He then lent across and spoke into the grill.
“Find the nearest town and stop somewhere I can get a taxi.”

Graham might have been scared, and that would of course be understandable, but give him his due, he slowly moved the end of the baton from his chest and as he leant back towards the grill he pressed the little button by the side of it,
“Carry on Jimmy; I’ll get back you in a minute.”
Then he looked at Olaf,
“He didn’t hear your instruction, so don’t go bashing him on the head. And if you tell us where you want to go, we can take you. There’s no need for a taxi.”
Olaf looked more than a little agitated,
“Don’t get fucking clever with me. I’m still the one holding the stick.”
“I’m not getting clever my boy. And I don’t know why you’re so up tight. Surely we can all be friends?”

Then he looked at me,
“Come Mary; think about your Gerry’s future. Surely you can reassure Olaf here that we are all good friends.”
I knew he was hinting about the trouble my Gerry could get into, or to be more accurate, the trouble he could cause for my Gerry. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten he still held the trump card. I turned and looked up at Olaf,
“He’s right. I know I was scared back there in the club. But I didn’t realise what I was getting myself into. And I’m more than just grateful for your help. Without you, I don’t know what would have happened.”

Graham said softly,
“We do.”
As I looked across he was sitting there with a big beaming smile. I lifted myself up and planted a soft kiss on Olaf cheek.
“See lad, she might be a bit on the shy side, but once she gets to know you, she’s like any other bitch on heat.”
Olaf face turned from the soft mellow smile I’d managed to bring about, into a fierce snarl as he growled,
“You are rude and disgusting man.”

“No Olaf. You don’t know the little girl. Come on Mary, tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“You just said you were grateful for his help. I’m sure you want to show him how grateful.”
It was obvious what he had on his mind, but knowing the bottom line was playing along or Gerry going to prison, I asked him anyway,
“By doing what?”
“Invite him back to your house with us. Maybe Gerry would like to see the man who saved his wife’s honour.”

“It’s late; Olaf has probably got things to do, or needs to be somewhere.”
“Ask him.”
“Would you like to meet my husband?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”
“I guess he will want to thank you.”
“That is not necessary.”
“But I want to thank you.”
“You already have, that kiss was thanks enough.”

Graham piped up in a sarcastic tone,
“How sweet. It’s like a medieval maiden who’s been saved by a knight in shining armour. Come on Mary cut the crap. Invite him back to fuck you.”
Again Olaf scowled, but he said nothing.
“Don’t look so angry. Slip your hand up her habit (I was of course still dressed in the nun’s habit), and you’ll find her snatch is dripping wet. She wants your dick like a dog wants a bone.”

I could see Graham’s eyes burning into me, urging me to offer myself to Olaf. I plucked up the courage, and looked up at his still scowling face,
“Please Olaf, he is telling the truth. I do want to show you my gratitude. Come back with us, and we can make love.”
“Your husband! What will he say?”
Graham chipped in,
“He’ll be a good little boy, and sit quietly watching.”
Olaf looked concerned as he asked,
“Are you sure you want me to come to your house?”
“Yes. I need to repay your kindness.”

“That’s settled then, we should be arriving at your place any minute, and then once our Olaf here has done the business, we’ll give him a lift to where ever he calls home.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, but both Graham and Peter had smiles on their faces like two excited school boys. Olaf and I kept exchanging glances, and as I began to think of what would soon be taking place between us, I could feel my tummy getting to a boiling point. I’m not sure how much my eagerness showed in my face, but as we exchanged glances, I saw Olaf’s face change from one of concern and pity, to gradually a look of desire.

As the drivers voice announced our arrival at my house, Graham looked at me and said,
“Ok, let me do the talking. And remember, what will happen if you screw-up this time.”
It was obvious Olaf heard Graham’s threat, but either he didn’t understand its relevance, or he was so far down the path to our imminent union that nothing now mattered; but what ever the case, the remark didn’t even show in a change of facial expression.

So as I opened the front door graham called up the stairs,
“Hey Gerry lad, we’ve brought your little lady home.”
I guess Gerry hadn’t been asleep, as his reply was almost immediate,
“Ok I’ll be down in a second.”
We all went into the front room and were sitting down as Gerry walked in. He looked more than a little surprised to see so many people; I guess he’d thought it would be just me and Graham.
“Come in lad. That’s it sit yourself down. This is Mr Harris, the advertising man from the knickers firm. And this is the hero of the night, Olaf.”

You could see the look of curiosity on Gerry face, and Graham continued,
“Yes, I know last we spoke your little lady was about to win you a new car, but things didn’t pan out that way. You see being as she didn’t get up on stage and accept the money they were offering, the club got a bit nervous about her. And once they can't be sure of a girl’s intentions, they have to cover themselves; insurance so to speak.”
“I I don’t understand.”
“Well the upshot was, if she wanted to earn that wedge for you, she had to sign a waiver form, and agree to a bit of group sex.”
“Group? But it was supposed to be just one guy?”
“I’ve told you, she just wasn’t reliable, so it was group or nothing.”

Gerry looked very worried, and Graham continued,
“Well she put a brave face on it, and signed the form, and then got dress-up ready to playact a rape scene. But somewhere in between signing and going out on stage, she got cold feet, or dry snatch, one or the other. But now her problem was how to get out of there.”
“Why couldn’t she just tell them she had changed her mind?”
“Because they had a signed form, which meant they could actually rape her, and claim she’d agreed. So in steps our hero. He wielded his big baseball bat and fought her way out to freedom.”

Gerry dashed across to me, and hugged me,
“You weren’t hurt?”
“No. Nobody touched me. Thanks to Olaf.”
And at that point I turned and gave Olaf an admiring look. Gerry let go of me and turned to look at Olaf, who was still the most terrifying sight, and as he took hold of his hand with both of his own, he shook it saying,
“I don’t know how I can thank you enough, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, just say.”
Before Olaf could reply, Graham was ready with his planned intervention,
“Well Gerry lad, now you mention it. There is something Olaf was looking forward to. And helping your little lady meant he sacrificed his own desires. And my boy, it’s something that’s within your powers to give him.”
“What? If there’s anything he wants that I’ve got, it’s his for the asking.”

“I was kind of hoping you feel that way. You see this is the man who was about to perform with your little lady on stage, and if he hadn’t rescued her, he’d have been the first one to have his pleasure.”
I could see the meaning was now gelling in Gerry head, and as he turned and looked at Graham he asked,
“He wants to fuck her?”
“Of course he does my boy, doesn’t every man that sees her. But more than just wanting to fuck her, I think you have to agree, he’s earned the right.”
Gerry looked at me next,
“And you, what do you think?”

Well as we all know it’s wasn’t a matter of what I thought or felt, as this was Graham's wish, if I didn’t agree, I would be sending Gerry to prison.
“He did save me from being raped, and if he hadn’t, I’d still be back in that club being abused by one man after another. He should be rewarded.”
“Ok. I guess you and him might as well go upstairs and use our bedroom, we'll stay down here until he’s finished.”
“That’s my boy, but now you’ve seen sense, try putting a bit more meaning into your offer. Go on tell Olaf you’d be pleased if he’d accept sex with your wife as a reward, and as a gesture of how much you appreciate his help.”

Gerry now seemed to accept this with a lot more ease than I’d imagined, and he turned back to Olaf, again taking his hand with both of his own,
“Thank you for making sure my wife wasn’t hurt. And I’d like, no I’d be please if you’d have sex with my Mary. She is dear to me, but I can see she likes you, and I feel I can trust you not to hurt her.”
Graham got to his feet,
“Be back in a jiffy with my camera, Gerry lad, nip upstairs and grab a quilt off the bed and a few sheets, so we can spread them out across the floor. Peter can you get Olaf to help you move all the furniture to the outside of the room. We want plenty of clear space for them to perform on.”

Gerry looked gob smacked, and as Graham was about to walk from the room he called,
“But Mr Spencer.”
Graham stopped in the doorway,
“What now lad. Make it snappy, poor Olaf has been gagging for this fuck all night.”
“But I thought they'd go upstairs and do it in private.”
“Ha. Well you thought wrong, when that donkey cock of his spreads her snatch open; I’m gonna be front row, with camera on full zoom. And if I’m not mistaken, you’ll be sitting in the corner watching and wanking like a love-sick monkey.”
With that he disappeared and went out to his car.

By the time he’d returned, all the seating and tables were moved back to the walls, and Gerry had done as he was told, so Peter organised Gerry and Olaf into covering the carpets as fully as the sheets could manage.
“Good work lads, now how are you going to do this, do you want to be the nun being forced, or are you going to just undress and get stuck in?”
I could see his question was aimed towards me, but as I stood there not knowing how to answer, Peter said,
“Well if it's all the same to Mary, I like the idea of a nun reading her bible by candle light, and then blowing out her candle and using it to get some sexual relief. Then our big soldier can find her in the middle of her masturbation, and show her what her cunt is made for.”

Graham looked delighted with this idea,
“Great, well Mary, can you go with that one?”
I reluctantly replied,
“I suppose so.”
“And you Olaf, can you hold back long enough to let her work her snatch up to a lather?”
“I’ll do it what ever way she wants me to.”
Sarcastically Graham said,
“Arh, isn’t he nice. Right we need a candle, Gerry lad can you find one, and a book, something that might look like a bible.”
I knew Gerry wouldn't have any idea where to look,
“Its ok, I’ll find them myself.”

I actually had a real bible, and I went upstairs and collected it, but candles were not something we normally kept. All I could think of was a Christmas candle from last year it was in the cupboard by the fuse box, in case of a fuse blowing or a power cut. So I returned with bible in one hand, and a Santa minus its head (which had burnt away last time the candle had been used) in the other. What I hadn’t even thought about was this candle was actually quite thick and knobbly, as it was after all a Santa carrying his sack full of toys. When Graham saw it he burst out laughing, and seconds later so did Peter.

As each of us began to see the absurdity of the sight, a nun holding a bible and headless Santa, first I joined in, then Gerry, and eventually even Olaf; though I’m not sure he actually thought it funny.
“Well come on then. This is gonna be one silly little movie. Right Mary, on your knees, and pretend to read your bible. Gerry lad, light the candle.” We all followed instruction, and as I played my part, Graham began to film. Peter had a still camera and was intermittently taking photos.

As instructed I read my bible, and then placed it down on the floor. Then after wetting my fingers and pinching out the candle Graham said,
“Hold up, lets do that again, only this time kneel up straight, lift the hem of your habit, and wet your finger and thumb from your snatch, and before you use it to pinch out the candle, hold it out so we can see the sticky tendrils as your fingers part. Then pinch your candle. I did as he’d told me, and yes my pussy had got more than enough wet sticky juices to perform his request. Although I was acting a part and couldn’t blatantly look at my audience, every glimpse I caught, told me; that to a man, they were transfixed, and from the glazed looks I’d guess all rock hard; but that last bit is pure supposition.

As I now start to fondle my candle, holding it in one hand and sliding the other up and down its knobbles and bumps, I begin to wonder it I’ll be able to get something of this size and shape up inside me. After a few minutes of this fondling, I bring my legs from underneath me, and then lie back. With one hand running the candle through my open mouth with tongue lapping it as it passes, my other hand is pulling my robes and exposing my breasts. Once I’ve uncovered my chest area, I move the candle and now I’m rubbing in the valley of my breasts. As I said, my audience are all watching with eyes on stalks, but it isn’t only them who is getting excited, I can feel my hips lifting, and it isn’t because I’m acting. My free hand pulls the hem up and then furiously tugs at the coarse material of the undergarments that nun’s wear as knickers. They are obviously not meant to pull away quickly, but I find the wide legs give access to my pussy without the need to remove them. So with one hand pulling the material across, I bring the Santa down to meet my wet and wanting hole.

As I push it against my wet lips, I can feel the knobbly bumps digging into my pelvic bone structure. I rotate it around and lean it from side to side, but I begin to think this was not a wise choice. Then without warning, I feel a swelling as my pussy lips stretch over Santa’s shoulders, and keep stretching as his big fat tummy and toy sack slide up inside me. I felt every bump and moulded feature of this novelty candle as it stretched and distorted the walls of my pussy. But as if on auto-pilot, I pushed it deep up inside until I’d only just got my fingertips holding the base. Then I began to alternately pull and push, sliding it in and out of my pussy. But far from, as you might expect, causing pain; every knobble caused a ripple of excitement, and each ripple built with the next to generate a wave of exhilarating pleasure.

This was no longer an act, and even if they'd all left the room right now, I’d have continued until my pussy erupted. But, of course, at this point in my little performance, nobody was about to go anywhere, they were all squatted around me with eyes on stalks. Especially my Gerry, I think the look of horror on his face when he saw me trying to work the Santa up my pussy, showed he was more frightened, than I’d been. But by now he was like the rest of them, staring as they revelled in my performance. It was around now when Graham gave Olaf the signal to start his act.

As Olaf loomed up alongside me standing there with his big baton held high, I guess the poor timid nun was supposed to let go of her candle or pull it out. But at the very least, she’d have closed her legs and tried to cover up. But I couldn’t stop my fingers ramming poor old Santa up and down my chimney. So Olaf put his baton down and knelt along side me, and just began to use his hands to work my breasts. His lips came to mine, and our tongues intermingled. It wasn’t the rape of an unwilling nun as they'd wanted, but I hadn't the power or will to resist, acting or otherwise.

So as Olaf gradually moved one of his hands down to my crotch, he took hold of the candle and relieved my hands of the task they had been busy with. So now with two free hands I began to release all the pins and buttons that held this silly habit in place, and with the help of Olaf free hands, gradually my body became naked. But without thinking about my actions, my hands then started work on the soldiers uniform Olaf was wearing, and again, between us, we gradually stripped him, without little Santa getting any respite at all. Hence by the time we were both naked and I caught sight of his magnificent errection, my poor little pussy was throbbing and pulsating wildly.

Something I should explain; as before, even though I was one the main participants in this performance, a lot of what I’m now relating, especially the visual aspects of it, I only know from watching Graham’s video afterwards. The only visuals I could actually see were Olaf and the faces of my audience, especially my poor Gerry.

But back to Olaf and I, as I’d said my pussy was pouting, and although I could feel the sensation, this was one thing the video showed in close-up, and also caused plenty of comment at the video showing later. But it wasn’t just my pussy that demonstrated my arousal, my hips were also rhythmically lifting, and with each lift my knees would turn outwards, offering my pussy to this gigantic Adonis.

It must have been obvious to all that I was ready, and as soon as Olaf removed the candle, he positioned himself in-between my legs, and as he looked me in the eyes, he asked,
“Are you ready?”
My mind and body were in total agreement, but my body got its answer in first. So as I heaved my hips forwards, impaling my pussy with his cock, I made the meaningless reply,
“Yes please.”

But the word please hadn’t left my lips before I started to sigh and moan as the pain of the pussy stretching began to overwhelm my consciousness,
“Oh ohh a. Ah uh urr. Oww oh fuck.”
And with each successive thrust, my sighs got longer,
“Oohw ooh ooooh.”
And then as he gradually picked up his pace and pushed deeper, the tone of my moans went higher,
“Ooh ooh fuck me ooooowh.”

Going back to my Gerry’s words of comfort; when he’d been trying to persuade me to have sex in the club; ‘if it’s too big it won't go in. You can only take what your pussy is made to take.’ So being as my pussy was as turned-on and eager for action as it was possible to be, I might have expected it would have stretched to accommodate Olaf’s cock within a few strokes. But although I now thought that to be the case, later viewing showed, even after three minutes of hard pushing, there was still a good three inches not being used!

My moans and sighs as I felt my pussy stretching to accept his size, gradually changed from expressions of the pain I was experiencing, to sighs of pleasure. And even though I realised at the time, this would upset my Gerry, these were feelings, I couldn’t suppress.

Olaf pounded my pussy and I had at least five minor orgasms, ones that a week ago I’d have called mind blowing, but now with my experiences over the last few days, I knew that a full blown eruption would render me to a state of higher consciousness, but with complete loss of bodily control. So as each tremor shook my body, I’d scream and vocalise my pleasure, but a subconscious body management system must have been monitoring Olaf’s performance and waiting for him to show signs of climax.

Then as I felt Olaf’s monster slipping out of my pussy, I suddenly began to wonder if during one of my tremors, I’d somehow missed his climax, and now it was all over. I know I felt worried and disappointed, but it was only later I realised just how obvious this disappointment was, as it showed on my face as plainly as if I’d held out a placard proclaiming it. But almost immediately, as I was lifting myself up onto my elbow, I realised Olaf was just mid way through his performance, and he was now re-positioning himself on his back.

Again, later viewing showed my facial expression change, and me scrambling rapidly into the kneeling position to lower myself down onto his mighty shaft. And even this, as I remember it was still a very tight fit, but judging by the video, I just used my hands to position the big bulbous head at my entrance, and launched myself down onto it. It slid in as if this was its natural home, and I rode myself up and down it like something possessed. And while I’m giving you the prospective as viewed from the video, or my audience, it was also clear I was now taking most of his shaft; maybe only an inch more to go.

But from my prospective, this last part of our session was where my real orgasm began to take hold, and gradually I lost all conscious control, and hence memory of events. My senses were in complete overload, as if each wild stimulation was an exploding firework, and I was stood in the middle of a burning firework warehouse, with explosions and bright colourful displays bursting all around me.

But as I’ve said, my audience saw a wanton slut, riding her stud as if that was all that mattered. Sweat was pouring from every part of my body, and my long hair hung down onto the sweat soaked chest of my stallion. My ample sized (38 b) breasts were also hanging down, now stretched, as they bounced and swung around, as if dancing to the tune of my grunts and sighs. It was no time at all before Graham pointed out to me and, of course, the rest of them watching the video,
“See and you were saying his cock was too big. Your little snatch is taking his whole length now. And look at the way it grips his shaft when you lift up on it. It almost pulls that snatch inside out. Its like it doesn’t want it to leave.”

As we all sat around watching the video playback, they all found Graham’s observations quite funny, even surprisingly, my Gerry. But I don’t think Graham wanted Gerry to be at ease with what had happened, and as he again began to make remarks, I began to think he was trying to goad Gerry into some kind of reaction.
“See lad, it was like I told you. She’s got more cunt than you could ever handle.”
Gerry didn’t answer, but the excited look he’d had on his face up to now, did drop into a slight scowl.

I was sat on the floor, but I took hold of Gerry’s arm, and gave him a reassuring squeeze, as I looked smilingly up to his face and mouthed the words ‘I Love You’. But Graham wasn’t done with his tormenting,
“Come on then Olaf; tell us how long that weapon of yours is?”
“It’s been measured at thirty-six centimetres.”
“Fuck the Euro-talk, what’s that in English?”
“A little over fourteen inches.”

“Come on then Gerry lad; let’s see you put a rule alongside your dick.”
Gerry face was so sad, but I again gave him a smile, and then turning and scowling at Graham I said,
“He doesn’t need a big cock to impress me; he's got all the loving I’ll ever need.”
“Well said my dear, but watching the way you’re riding Olaf here, I can't think you’ll convince any of us. You’re ramming that big Swede up you like you haven’t had any real meat in there for over a month.”
“Well that just shows how pathetic your cock must be, it’s only been a couple of hours since you fucked me.”

I’d intended that to be a put-down on Graham, but Gerry didn’t show any sign that he found any comfort in my remark. Yet Graham far from being annoyed at my remark, smiled as he came back with,
“Touché. I wasn’t going to mention the way you reacted to my fuck. But being as you don’t mind talking about it in front of Gerry. How’s about after we seen Olaf’s finale, I put on the video that Peter took of you and me?”

I looked up at the clock,
“It’s gone three in the morning, I think we should call it a night now. Gerry has to be in work by seven-thirty.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure he’d like to see how you and me got on. And being as he’s been a good lad tonight, I’m sure I can let him off going to work tomorrow.”
“But he has to go in, we need the money.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about money, I’ll make sure he gets a full weeks pay. Now Gerry lad wouldn’t you like to see how well she fucked, just to keep you out of trouble?”

Before Gerry could answer Peter spoke up,
“Well I don’t know about Gerry, but I for one am ready to call it a night once we’ve watched the end of Olaf little fuck. And looking at Olaf, I think even he’s showing signs of wear. Little Mary sure knows how to drain the juices from her lovers. So unless you’re gonna stay the night here?”
This wasn’t a suggestion I wanted to hear, but luckily, Graham decided he’d call it a night after this video.

And back to this video, it had been going on for so long, it was almost getting boring, (well from my point of view), but now I could tell from the movements we were both beginning to make, he was about to deliver his cum. His hands were on my waist, and he began to lift and then ram me down hard, holding me whilst his own body could be seen to shudder. Then up he’d lift, and again down I’d go. He did this at least ten times, and then he released my waist and his hands dropped limp at his side.

“Graham at this point gave a cheer, and there were smiles all around on the faces of the others, including Gerry. But then it was me who took over the action, I was still writing my body on what was left of his cock. My hands were clinging into the flesh on his chest, as my hips thrust back and forth until his big soft sausage like cock slipped from my wet and glistening pussy. But I still didn’t stop, my hips kept thrusting, as I spread a slimy trail of juices over Olaf’s tummy and up across his hairy chest. I thought I was about to embarrass myself even further by squatting over his face, but at this point I rolled over and lay alongside him just humping my hips high in the air.

I was by now with my head towards where Graham had been filming from, and he came in for a close-up of my face.
“See Gerry lad, that’s a real orgasm. That smile will live in her memory for weeks to come.”
He then moved his camera and ended his filming showing a close-up of the juices running from my pussy,
“And that my lad is one well fucked and completely contented snatch.”
Gerry again looked down, but Peter brought Graham’s tormenting to an end with,
“Ok Graham let’s get Olaf back to where he wants to go, and let me get back to my bed.”

He then reached out and took hold of Gerry’s hand,
“Well my boy, it’s been good to meet you. And I can't thank you enough for giving us the use of your little lady. You’re a lucky fellow, make sure you look after her, she’s gonna do you proud over the next few weeks. Ok Graham have you got all your stuff together?”
“I think so, come on Olaf, you let us know where to drop you off. And Gerry lad, don’t look so down. I know you lost out on my motor, but I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities. Oh and forget work tomorrow, I’ll be back to see you at some point during the day. Well Mary my love, I hope you’ve enjoyed the evening half as much as we did.”

To my surprise, Gerry spoke up, not I hasten to add in a happy tone,
“If that video is anything to go by, I think we can take it she did.”
“See lad, it wasn’t all that bad, was it?”
He didn’t answer. And slowly they all left.

We sat there not speaking for what seamed like an age, and then the recriminations started.
“How could you say those things?”
“What?”
“While he was doing it to you. You were like a dirty wild animal.”
“I was, was I? Well who was the one who wanted me to do that with him?”
“Not me. It was you who said you wanted to reward him.”
“You fucking hypocrite. I’m going up to bed. And don’t you try coming up after me.”

So sobbing as I went, I waddled my way from the room and up the stairs dragging some sheets with me. I lay on my bed sobbing, and awoke some time in the morning, still in a wet soggy heap. But now, it was a stinking wet and disgusting heap. I went to the bathroom and the warm water gradually brought back the memories of Olaf and the night before. Not the horrid bits of people watching, or being forced to humiliate myself. No, these were like the water, warm, and without any form of stimulation, my pussy began to re-run the feelings; as if it had been a recorder of sensation, and was now on play-back. I found myself slumping down onto my haunches, and as the water cascaded over my body I heaved and humped as I felt his wonderful cock stretching inside my body. I didn't actually black-out, but I was on the edge of consciousness, and came to, feeling contented.

After that I had to force myself to get a grip, and so I completed my shower, and was soon back in my bedroom getting dressed. I then had to gather all the messed-up sheets and took them down to put in the wash. In the front room Gerry lay on the sofa, still fast asleep, whilst all around was the mess from the event last night. I went around cleaning and tidying, trying to keep the noise to a minimum, to avoid wakening Gerry. I don’t know why I bothered, maybe it was a natural instinct, or maybe I just wasn’t ready for the hassle.

But around ten in the morning, the house was looking somewhere near reasonable, but Gerry was still fast asleep, when I was suddenly shook rigid by a knock at the door. It didn’t wake Gerry, and why I was so nervous, I don’t know, but as I made my way down the hall, I could feel myself on the edge of peeing myself. Then as I slowly opened the door, there were two strangers standing there.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as I expected this must just be two salesmen, trying to flog some double glazing, or something similar. So as I put my polite smile on, I asked,
“Ok, what are you selling?”
“Selling? We’re not selling anything. Is this the right house, are you Mrs Mary Kendal?”
“Yes that’s me.”
“Well Mr Spencer told us to call. Mr Graham Spencer.”

Again the feeling of foreboding returned,
“Yes, I know him. What have you come for?”
At this point I was racking my brain wondering if he’d inadvertently left something of his here; but knowing I’d already tidied all around the house, I couldn’t think what.
“Can we come in? It isn’t the kind of thing we want to talk about on the doorstep.”
I wasn’t too sure about letting them in, but as I had Gerry in the house, I decided it would be ok.

I backed away from the door and said,
“Come on in, my husband is in the front room.”
As they stepped inside, one of them took hold of my hand, turned it palm upwards, and slipped something into it, closing the fingers,
"Graham told me to give you this; he said you might need it."
As they walked past me and down the hall, I could see he'd given me a little yellow pill. Then as they turned into the front room, I followed.
"Sit yourselves down. I’ll just wake Gerry. He had a late night last night.”
As they sat, I shook Gerry, and he gradually began to stir,
“Oh god! My fucking neck.”
Then as he opened his eyes and saw the two men seated across the room.
“What the? Who the fuck are you?”

I put my hand on his shoulder and tried to calm him down,
“Gerry love, Mr Spencer has sent them.”
“Mr Spencer. Oh shit. I’m sorry. What the fucks the time. Oh god I remember.”
One of the men spoke up,
“Looks like someone had a good night last night.”
Gerry maybe took his meaning wrong, and he looked up at me, and with a scowl said,
“What do you mean? He hasn’t showed you that fucking video has he?”

The man looked quite surprised,
“Video? No we haven’t seen a video. I was just referring to the way you look. No offence, but it looks like you got yourself shit faced after watching the blues go down last night.”
“Oh that fucking match. Well yes I did hit the old cans, but that isn’t why I’m still sleeping.”
At this point he stopped as if realising he was about to tell two perfect strangers about last nights event.

“But fuck that, what has he sent you here for?”
“According to Graham, we can both do each other a favour.”
“Favour, what favour?”
“He says, you are feeling the pinch a bit. He says you narrowly missed out on a five grand windfall, and maybe you might consider an easy way of earning a grand.”
The mention of money, caught Gerry’s attention,
“Go on, I’m listening.”

“I know its way over the going rate, but Graham says it’ll be worth it.”
“What will be worth it?”
He then looked across to where I was still stood in the doorway. Gerry followed his eyes, and then as he said,
“What you want to go with my wife?”
His voice had a sharp edge, like he was angry, and he even began to lift himself up to the edge of his seat. The man replied immediately, with more than a little fear in his tone,
“Graham said you needed the money, and that you might consider it. But if I’m speaking out of turn, or if he’s given me the wrong end of the stick. I don’t mean any offence, we’ll just go.”

Both men rose to their feet, but before they started to walk to the door, Gerry said,
“No, sorry. Sit back down. I didn't mean to snap at you.”
“So you might consider it?”
Gerry looked at me. I didn’t reply, but the look I gave him was intended to say, ‘No way’. But to my surprise, Gerry said,
“A thousand pounds in cash?”
“Well I was going to write you a check, but if its cash you want, we’ll go and find a cash machine, and we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Err. Yes, you go and get the notes, while I talk to my wife.”
They again rose to their feet, and I moved to one side as they walked past me on their way to the door. They both nodded their heads as they passed, and the first one said,
“Bye my dear, see you in a minute.”
The second added,
“Bye. You’re getting me hot just thinking about you.”
With that they were gone and the door closed behind them.

Gerry quipped,
“Well that’s a turn-up.”
I stared at him with the angriest glare I could muster,
“You bastard. You fucking sent me to bed last night in tears, and now you’re gonna try to talk me into whoring so you can buy that fucking car.”
“Come on Mary. Don’t be so fucking sensitive. Those men are offering to pay you a grand a piece. Two grand for what. Don’t you try to tell me its work. I saw you last night. If you want to see work, come with me and do a day in that warehouse. All you’ve got to do is lay back and let them do all the action. That’s if you can. If last nights anything to go by, you’ll do the work for them, and be glad to do it.”

I was angry, but also sad, and now sobbing,
“You are a bastard. You know I couldn't help any of that stuff.”
“I never said you could. And I never said I minded. But you can't say it was something you dislike doing. So if we can get two grand and keep Mr Spencer happy into the bargain, we’d be silly to turn them down.”
He put his arm on my shoulder,
“Come on. It won't be all that bad. They’re friends of Mr Spencer, so they must be ok. And I’ll be here; I won't let anything bad happen to you.”
I thought, ‘he’s gonna let me be fucked by two strangers, and he has the gall to say he won't let anything bad happen to me’. But I knew this was as inevitable as night following day, and I somehow just resigned myself to my fate.

“Go on, nip upstairs and get dressed up a bit, you don’t exactly look the part in those old jeans.”
So as I walked up to my room, I thought, ‘not only does he want me to be a whore for him, but now he’s telling me I don’t look tarty enough!’ But I still followed instructions, and looked out some sexy looking underwear, and then put on the black dress I’d mentioned I’d worn at the wedding. (I at this point remembered I’d left my red dress in the club dressing room).

I also remembered the little yellow pill, and I thought,'well if I've got to do this, I'm entitled to some kind of help'. So off to the bathroom, and with a glass of water, down went the pill. Then back to my bedroom, to do my final checks. It was while I was completing them that I heard the front door,
“KNOCK KNOCK.”

As I began my descent of the stairs, Gerry was ushering the two men into the hall, they both stopped and looked up towards me, one man said,
“You might as well turn around my dear, we’ll come straight up.”
I looked down to Gerry, and he nodded as if to approve this instruction, and then he said to the men,
“You two can come into the front room and settle-up first.”

I didn’t hear what was said or see what took place, but Gerry told me later.

The men had walked into the room followed by Gerry, and Gerry had spoken first,
“Ok, have you got the money?”
One of the men replied as he handed over a wad of notes,
“One thousand pounds; in fresh new twenties.”
Gerry took hold, and as he counted the twenty-pound notes, putting them into hundred pound piles, he did so out aloud,
“One Hundred. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Hey hang on a minute, you said two grand.”
“No I didn’t. I said one.”

“So only one of you is going upstairs?”
“No. We offered a grand to go with your wife. That’s five hundred a piece.”
“But I thought you meant a grand each.”
“You’ve got to be joking. Five hundred is way above the going rate. So she’d better be good.”
“But you can't both go up there together.”
“Why not? We want to try a double penetration.”
“Oh Jesus. You don’t mean both of you at once?”
“That’s how it’s normally done.”
“You can't do that.”

“So yo've sent me out to withdraw this money, and now you’re saying you won't let her fuck?”
“You didn’t mention anything kinky.”
“Kinky? What planet are you from. All we want is a straight forward double fuck, that’s not anything out of the normal.”
“It would be for my wife.”
“That’s not what Mr Spencer said. He said she goes bananas when she takes it up the arse.”
“He didn’t. He wouldn’t say things like that. She’s never done anything of that kind.”

“Look are we gonna get to fuck her or not?”
“Not both at once you’re not.”
“Ok, if we go up one at a time?”
“Well ok. But I was expecting a grand each.”
“Don’t be silly. If we’re only going to have a single fuck, I’m not paying more than two hundred.”
“No way. If you pay the grand for both of you, then I’ll say yes.”
“Only if we both go up together.”
“If I let you both go up together, then I’ll have to go up with you, and there won't be any of that double fucking.”

“Ok my last offer, a kind of double or quits. You’re convinced she won't double fuck without a struggle?”
“I know she won't. But what do you mean double or quits?”
“Its like this, we’ll all go up together now, and just see how things go. You don’t say a word or give her any signs. And if she says anything about not wanting both of us at the same time, then one of us will sit it out and wait until the first one has finished. And when we come down, we’ll pay you double what we were going to pay. In other words, you'll get two grand.”
“What? You're saying even if you only get to do it one at a time, you’ll pay the full amount?”
“No. The full amount is only a grand. But I’ll give you two.”
“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. If you’re sure she doesn’t like having two men at once, then you win all round. But if on the other hand, she lets both of us get cosy with her, and then doesn’t kick-up a fuss when we both get on the bed together with her; well then you have to sit there quietly and watch her take a double fucking.”
“Hey hang on, just because she lets both of you on the bed doesn’t mean she’ll be expecting you to do something like that.”
“Maybe I didn’t explain myself properly. If she says no at any point, we’ll stop.”
“You sure?”
“Look, we are just following information we’ve been given. If you know your wife as well as you think you do; you’ve made two grand for something we could have got elsewhere for two hundred.”

“So it’s up to her?”
“Yes, but not if you tell her. You just come up with us, and say you’ve negotiated the deal.”
“And if she does let you both do it to her, then how much do you pay?”
“Well I thought you were pretty confident that wouldn’t happen?”
“I am. But you wouldn’t be offering to pay double unless you thought you had a chance. So how much if she does?”
“By rights it should be zero, it is after all, double or quits.”
“Hey hang on...”
“No, I’m not suggesting we get her for nothing. But to make the gamble fair, we’ll give you two-hundred.”
“No way.”
“So you’re not feeling that sure about her?”
“It’s not that. But if I'm wrong, and she lets both of you do that, and then she only gets two hundred quid; she’d kill me.”
“That’s easy; just chuck it all back in her face. If she fucks us both, tell her she’s a slut, and it’s her own fault she lost the two grand.”
“I don’t know, it seems a bit risky.”

The second of the two men then got to his feet and pulled out an envelope from his inside pocket,
“Two tickets for the next round of the cup final. I’ll throw them in which ever way it goes.”
“What tickets are they?”
“They’re a pair of complimentary ones I was given. They’re for the director’s box.”
“Shit there worth a bomb.”
“Well they would have been worth more to me if the blues hadn’t dropped out the other night. But, yes I guess I could still sell them on for a good price.”
The first man again took up the negotiations,
“Well? Have we got a deal?”

“Ok I’ll go with that.”
The man handed over the money once again, and then said,
“Ok, that's still one grand. So if she lets us double fuck her, I want eight-hundred back. But if you're right, and she doesn't go for it, I'll give you this."
At that point he pulled out another wad of notes.
"But if you open your mouth and try to put her off taking it up the arse, I’ll want the whole lot back.”
So without answering, Gerry led them up to my bedroom.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, wondering why they were taking so long; but eventually I heard the footsteps on the stairs. As I saw the door opening I got to my feet. As they all trouped in I asked Gerry,
"Is everything alright?"
Gerry replied hesitantly,
“Yes, we’ve sorted out the money.”

As the second man closed the bedroom door, both of the men approached me as I stood beside the bed. Gerry had walked across and was just sitting himself down on the stool in front of my dressing table. Now I know you will think this next line is just an excuse from an oversexed slut, but I offer it as mitigation against my behaviour. I might not have wanted Gerry to agree to their offer, but being as Gerry had been the one to persuade me he wanted me to have sex with these men. And being as I’d taken the little yellow pill, and since then been waiting nearly half-an-hour, knowing I was about to have sex with two complete strangers. Well my arousal had been building with the anticipation, and was almost about to blow. And now as Gerry had brought both men into the bedroom with him, I never even considered he would be expecting me to object to both men being with me at the same time.

So I immediately knelt in front of them and proceeded to loosen their belts and lower their trousers. They in turn both began to strip their own upper bodies. Once I’d uncovered their cocks, I just started to fondle and caress from one to the other, using both hands and my mouth. They wasted no time in starting to remove my dress, and bra, and then began to fondle my breast. The reaction in my body to their fondling was instant, and not something I could have hidden, even if I’d wanted to. But as I didn’t even think Gerry might want to see reluctance, I just let the sighs flow audibly from my lips, as I encouraged both of the men to lift me up onto the bed behind me.

As they lay me back down I lifted my hips and between them they slid my panties from my legs. One man’s head was instantly burying itself into my crotch, and I lifted my legs wide to give him access. The other man was on the bed, legs astride my torso, and as he held my breasts together, he slid his cock in and out of the valley between them. The man on my pussy had only been working it for a few minutes before I had my first gushing orgasm, not brought about by penetration. It didn’t last as long as the epic displays I’d had during the last few day’s sex sessions, and I was still conscious of my actions. But although conscious of my heaving groin, and gushing vagina; I again would not have been able to stop it even if I’d thought it necessary.

As I heaved and gyrated my hips, I vocalised my obvious state of oblivion, whilst the man who’d worked my pussy to this state with his mouth, now manoeuvred himself in between my wide open legs as he positioned his cock at the entrance to my pussy. As my orgasm subsided, and my hips began to come to rest, he pushed his cock forwards, and my pussy engulfed his shaft. Just this mere touch of his cock at my willing hole had brought back to life the humping motions of my hips. He launched himself on top of my body, kissing my breasts, enhancing the feeling his cock was generating in my tummy.

He fucked hard for only a minute or so before withdrawing his cock, and re-positioning himself on my right hand side on the bed alongside me. At which point he lifted my right leg and re-entered my pussy from his sideways position. I had not been aware of what the second man had been doing since my orgasm, until now that is, when he took-up the mirror image position on the bed at my left side. And while man number one thrust hardily at my pussy, man number two devoured my breasts with his mouth. Then the cock once again slipped from my pussy, but this time with a little assistance from his hand, man number one began to slide it along the crevice of my bottom, and nudge it at my hole.

It only took a few exploratory pushes before his bell-end, lubricated by the juices produced from my previous orgasm, popped its head into my anal passage. My body was well aflame with the stimulations of my breasts, and in just a few pushes, the cock was exploring deep into my bottom. Then between them, both men began to manoeuvre me over onto my side, so that my back was to man number one, and he was now able to bury his cock into my bottom to its full depth. No sooner had he achieved this goal, before both men again re-positioned me, man one turning onto his back, with me on my back on top of him. His cock was, of course, still thrusting deep up inside my bottom.

Man two re-commenced fondling my breasts, but now he was moving from my side, to a position in between my open legs. It was then I felt his cock as it pushed at my pussy. Call me stupid, but up until now I’d never even considered the thought of two men fucking me at the same time. Oh, I know Graham and Peter had been with me at the same time, and one had been fucking my throat whilst I was being fucked. But I hadn’t thought of the throat fucking as real fucking; just as some kind of fore-play. But as man number two pushed, his cock slid up, and now I had two cocks pulling and pushing and generating such a feeling it was again a new height for my emotions.

They didn’t continue for long in this position, and after only a couple of minutes, both cocks had slipped out and I was being guided to a new arrangement. This time I was astride man number one who was still on his back on the bed, and man number two was kneeling up behind me, and as he entered my bottom and doggy fucked it, man number one just kept up the slow steady shafting of my pussy. This new position meant I could drive myself down hard onto man number one, as man number two didn’t need any encouragement to drive himself hard into my bottom.

The excesses of sensations being generated meant I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the ensuing surge of juices building in my pussy, and I just hoped that both of these men would be reaching their climaxes soon. I had hardly had time to process that thought, and not even had time to worry about it, before the man in my bottom began to ram me in such a violent manner. There hadn’t been any sign I’d picked-up to indicate he was at that point, but the warm feeling in my anal passage assured me this was definitely his cum strokes. And as the cum splattered deep up inside me, it was as if it was petrol being thrown onto a smouldering fire.

My pussy spasmed instantly; gripping the cock entering it from below in mid-stroke. And then as my body began to jerk in its innate manner, my sense of bodily consciousness left me. I know by my Gerry's later description, I bucked and heaved like a sex crazy slut. And I milked both men dry, and even carried on squirming around on the bed, legs wide open and pussy oozing out gunge. (Well that was my Gerry's description). He said both men watched until I’d stopped squirming, and then they both took it in turns to use the shower. By the time I’d arrived down stairs, they were both gone.

As I walked in the room Gerry was sat there, head down, drinking a can of beer.
I could feel the tension in the air, and so I asked,
“Are you alright?”
His reply was a mumble or grunt, but it sounded like,
“Fucking slut!”
“You what? What did you say?”
He lifted his head and as he faced me,
“I said, you fucking slut!”
I burst into tears, and as I turned to leave the room shouted back,
“You fucking BASTARD!”

So some time later, maybe half an hour or so, I’m still lying face down on my bed sobbing, when I hear Gerry’s voice as he stood in the doorway to my bedroom,
“Come-on Mary. You know I didn’t mean it.”
I lay there trying to totally ignore him. I could sense he was moving closer to the bed,
“Please babe. I’m sorry. I was angry, and I just lashed out without thinking.”
He moved in closer still and I felt his hand resting on my back. He slowly moved it around in a gentle manner as he’d done many times in the past; stroking my shoulders, I guess he thought relieving the tension. This was nearly always his approach when he wanted to say sorry after we’d had some kind of fight.

I lay there for maybe fifteen minutes as he sat on the edge of the bed; and whilst his hand attempted to soak away my stress, he would occasionally speak soft words of apology to try to explain away his stupid behaviour. I have to admit; I was on the point of talking to him, even if only to give him a mouthful of abuse. But before I’d opened my mouth, there was a sound from downstairs,
“KNOCK KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK.”
It was someone at our front door, and as I felt Gerry getting to his feet he said,
“I’ll go and see who it is.”
I turned on my side and in an angry voice snapped,
“I don’t care who it is, tell them to clear off!”

I think it is again time to make an intermission here. And as always, I will wait for any emails to see if you the reader would like to know what happens next. Thanks for reading, and please feel free to email me at Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com">http://www.sexstoriespost.com/"http://www.sexstoriespost.com/"mailto:Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com/"/""">Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com
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    Breakfast was normal for a single young man. He prepared himself a cup of hot coffee and a few pieces of toast as he hurried out the townhouse door towards his car. He shared his home with two other college graduates. Not too surprisingly the house was not in top shape. In fact, Carl crushed a beer can with his foot on the way to his car. He told himseld he'd pick it up when he came back home.

    In his car he turned on the radio to a news radio station so he could catch up on world events. As he drove, the speaker drolled on about rather standard happenings; from a Senator's current soundbites to the inevitable feel good story. Towards the end, before the commercial break, however, he heard about a terrorist plot that had been foiled by federal agents. Apaprently a group of Middle Eastern men had wanted to open fire on a local police station with weapons they bought from a gun store. The news seemed to strike Carl and it didn't sit well with him. After a few moments of dealing with heavy traffic he soon forgot about the incident and was listening to a local classic rock station.

    He pulled into the parking lot of his office and, as he walked to the building entrance, spotted his neighbors car. He decided to stop by and say hello during lunch break, he knew where Bill always ate his food. It was almost 9 A.M. and if he didn't hurry he would get another earful from his boss, who happened to be the nephew of the company president. He didn't mind the little stooge, but he didn't feel like dealing with him on a personal level, so he picked up his pace. He entered the lobby through a glass revolving door. In front of him, sitting on a marble floor was a towring fountain. The front desk was just to the right beneath a a large ceiling hung sign that read "Welcome to Haikoma Plaza". The floor was bustling with people that carried stacks of papers, and boxes to and fro. He was headed to the elevator when, in his peripheral, he caught a black figure moving quickly in the same direction. His eyes turned and fixated on what stuck out so prominently and found a lady dressed in a long black cloth and black head cover. He immediately knew this was an Arab and he looked her up and down. Not much could be seen of her figure, as the black cloth masked it all. He was rather surprised to see her here because he had never seen one before. Before long he was stepping into the elevator and she had followed, situating herself on the other end between a few other passengers.

    His mind began to recall the events he heard about over the radio. Could she be a terrorist? he thought. What if she has weapons beneath that cloth? His fingers fidgeted slightly as the elevator came to a stop, he had stepped off and, sure enough, the Arab woman had followed. He really became worried now. Why did she have to get off here? I guess it doesn't matter. If she's already in the building it's bad enough. I'll have to keep an eye on her.

    He settled himself at his desk after seeing the Arab enter the boss' office. He couldn't help but wonder what she was there for. Eventually his mind would wander back to his work. He was in data-entry for a large Bank. All day, everyday he would update and enter new data onto his computer. It was mind-numbing and time-consuming, not to mention draining. Before long it was lunch time and, after getting some food to go, he stopped by his friend, Bill's, office. Bill's team leader wanted them all in to finish programming on a project due tomorrow and Bill would probably need to stay until evening to get it done. Carl gave him a bit of sympathy before looking at the clock. His computer awaited.

    Just as he was about to sit down, his cubicle neighbor, Diane, peered around the entrance and startled Carl, "Carl, meeting at Davis's office. Seems we have a new employee he wants us to meet."

    After a slight jump in his chair Carl responded, "Alright, be right over."

    He had opened the door to a side room with covered windows. Inside he immediately saw Davis, "Carl, please take a seat."

    Carl nodded and turned to see several other employees that were also involved in data-entry. Seated beside Davis, though, was the Arab from the lobby. She must be the new employee he thought.

    "Alright guys, I called you in here because we have a new employee." Davis continues, "Please welcome Marha." Marha stood up slowly and everyone said their hello's. Carl was silent as he watched her. All he could see was her face, this time clearly. While they were in the elevator, she stood behind him and it didn't allow for him to get a good look. She had light brown skin and dark brown eyes. The strands of hair that escaped the hijab were black and they settled beside soft, round lips. When she spoke, she spoke in a thick accent. Carl wasn't sure what country the accent belonged too before Davis continues.

    "Marha is from Iraq and she learned English rather quickly. Four months, right?" Marha nodded. "Ok, guys I want you to make her feel at home here. Carl, she'll be taking the empty cubicle beside you, show her the ropes."

    Carl reluctantly nodded his head as the group trickled out of the room. Marha followed him to her cubicle where he let her in first. He showed her everything, from how to log in with her assigned username and password to how to submit files to the server. Her accent was quite thick, he kept thinking. Her English was also rather borken, he didn't understand why Davis gloated about her fast learning. Occasionally, the news report would creep into his mind before slipping away. Carl also noticed a strong smell of spices emanating from Marha. What had she been eating, he thought.

    As he sat at his desk, he decided to haze her. He knew her username from when he had helped her log in so he decided to send her an anonymous message. He typed her a message, "Marha, this is Davis. Come to the supply room, I want to show you some things." Carl snickered to himself as he sent the message. Soon her heard Marha rise from her seat and peer into his cubicle. Carl wiped the smile from his face before turning to her. "Carl, you know where supply rooms?" She said in her thick Iraqi accent.

    Carl nodded his head, "Yea, it's out the side door and down the hall to the left."

    Marha thanked him and was on her way. Carl couldn't help but follow her. He got up from his seat and kept some distance behind her as she made her way to the supplies room. 

    The room she was headed to was not in fact the supplies room. It was part of the floor that was under construction and, at the moment, was empty. He followed her through the door and into the dimly lit hallway. She slowly entered the room at the far left and closed the door behind her. Smiling, Carl entered behind her. She turned to him with a confused look on her face. "Is this not supplies room?" She said.

    Carl laughed, "No, it isn't. You really shouldn't be in here. You could get into trouble."

   "I not know. It was mistake." She said nervously.

   Carl stepped a little closer and spoke, "I think, since it's your first day and all, that we can make an exception."

   Marha sighed and nodded her head, "Thank you." She said before attempting to step towards the door. Carl had stepped in front of her and matched each side step she made, all the while keeping a grin on his face. "Please, let me goes." She said, staring at the floor where his feet rested.

   "Oh , but Marha, when I said we could make an exception, it was dependent on one thing."

   Confused, Marha responded, "What?"

   "Get over there and rest your stomach on the desk." Carl said as he pointed to a temporary table set up to hold architectural plans. Marha became nervous and slowly approached the desk. She didn't lay on it, however. She was still utterly confused as to what was going on, all she wanted was to leave and avoid getting in trouble. Carl approached her and held her wrist tightly. Slowly, he turned her body around until she was facing the desk. His mind was racing. Anger and lust overwhelmed him as he controlled her small statured body; he had a full six inches on her at 6'0. He rested his palm on the back of her shoulder and pushed forward, arching her back until her chest was resting on the desk. Marha couldn't move, and was still very reluctant to struggle to heavily. She could feel the firm grip he had on her delicate wrist, and her torso offered no resistance to his palm. "Stay there," Carl said in a stern voice. The smile on his face was gone, and all that was left was a light grimace and his emotions.

   He bent his back slightly and with his spare hand grabbed a handful of her black cloth. He lifted it up over her hip as Marha began to shake with moans protruding from her closed lips. Slowly, inch by inch her long, smooth brown legs was exposed. Eventually the curve of her buttocks came into view of the dim flourecent light. With a somewhat evil smile on his face, Carl looked at her white panties, running his hand over the delicate curve of her cheek. He gave it a light spank with his hand, then did the same with the other cheek. He didn't want it to feel left out.

   "I didn't know you had such a nice body underneath this thing." He said, mockingly.

   "Please..." Marha whispered, "This is wrongs.."

   "Four months of English, huh? Maybe it isn't too bad afterall." He said as his hand slid her panties down. It fell to her shaking ankles, resting above her black high heels. He removed his hand from her wrist and spread her cheeks to reveal her slit. "This looks like a nice Muslim pussy you have." He said as his finger ran along its lips, frequently sliding between them. Marha moaned and continued to plea with Carl to stop, speaking in light whispers and hoping no one would walk in. Carl pulled her shoulder up until the Arab was standing tall. He removed the black cloth completely, reveling her matching white bra. For the time being he left her hair cover on.

   He removed her bra slowly, letting it fall to the floor so that her 32B, Iraqi tits could jiggle free. The nipples at the ends were hardened and Marha was blushing heavily, her gaze resting on the floor. Carl pinched and flicked her nipples teasingly before he stopped touching her all together. "Ok, Marha. It's time to earn your keep in this great country." He said, peering over her, "Lower yourself."

    Marha didn't listen at first and it took a push down on her shoulder by Carl before her body began to drop. She was now on her knees in front of the American, "That's it you Arab bitch." He said sternly as gazed down upon her, "Take my dick out."

    At this point there was a large bulge poking out from behind his pants. Again, Carl needed to encourage the Arab by taking her hand onto his crotch. Marha reluctantly lowered the zipper of the pants after unbuttoning them. "Good girl." Carl said in encouragment. She pulled the pants off and the boxers, clinging to the sides, slid off as well until his hardened cock bounced free. The contrast of the complexion between his white dick and her light brown face further arroused Carl. She was face to face with the giant pecker and the American took a hold of her head with both hands. "You're going to work a second job while you're here, bitch." He said as he pushed the tip of his dick between her lips. Marha remained still as the dick slid between her soft and loose lips. Her saliva already began to coat his shaft as he moaned, holding her head tightly.

   Slowly Carl began to pick up the pace of his thrusts and his hands would pull her face down unto his shaft, overcoming the little resistance she could offer. The cock would move further into her mouth and saliva would drip down his shaft, along his swining sac. "This is all you filthy sand niggers are good for," he said evilly.

   The purple tip of his cock grew nearer to the back of her throat with every thrust into her mouth. It was only a matter of time before it began to clog her throat and restrict air. Marha began to gag, and the sounds of the harsh face fucking filled the once silent room. His sac would slap her chin several times before he shoved his cock down her throat, causing her face to go red, her eyes to cross, and tears to run down her cheeks ruinning her mascara. He began to slap her tits red as he held his cock down her throat. She would gasp heavily for air each time he pulled back, strings of saliva and pre-cum attached to her mouth and leading to his sloppy dick. Slowly, he began to slap her face as his dick slid in and out, leaving permanent red finger marks. "You like that? You're going to like my cum too."

   His sac began to tigthen and he discontinued his thrusts, pushing his cock as far as he could down her throat. Tightneing in his shaft soon followed and hot, slaty cum oozed out of the tip and down her throat. He looked into her crossed eyes and talked her through the ordeal, "Shhh..Shhh.."

   After he was done he pulled his increasingly limp cock out of her mouth and wads of spit and cum followed, landing on the floor. As he wiped himself off with a nearby towel he spoke with a grin on his face, "I hope it was good for you too." The evil and dirty man said. He threw her the towel and left to his office, sitting at his desk. He wondered what she would do, and sure enough he heard her sit at her desk and begin to type at her keyboard. He smiled as though he had just taken advantage of a woman and gotten away with it.

A message popped up on his screen. The user was anonymous and the message read, "Yea, Carl, I was. Next time I'll have to gag you with a dildo. ;)." Carl blushed lightly.

 

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