Collection Of Short Stories free porn video

Walking home from her friend's thirteenth birthday party Sandy

smiled to herself: it had been the first coed party she had been

allowed to attend, and she loved it. Jeff, sixteen years old and

the best looking guy there, as well as her friend's brother, had

even flirted with her, and she glowed with the remembrance, for she

had been hoping to catch his eye. She had worn a pair of cutoff

jeans, revealing her young, alabaster skin and beautiful legs, and

a tight, striped shirt, showing off her slender waist and budding

breasts. As she walked, her long, straight blond hair brushed

against her lower back, and her full lips and large blue eyes gave

her a sexy look, which, added to the beauty of youth on the verge

of womanhood, made her look stunning.

The party had run late, well into the hours of darkness, but she

lived in a good, white, neighborhood, so didn't mind walking home

at night. In fact, the cool breeze against her skin and the stars

of the new moon made her feel almost euphoric. She was happy,

happy, happy, and turned to take a shortcut between houses. It was

even darker between the walls of the houses, but she knew her way

well, so was surprised when she tripped over something and, with

and ooomph, landed hard on her hands and knees.

She started to get up, wondering what had happened, when she was

shocked by a heavy body falling onto her back, forcing her hard

down on her stomach in the dirt of the path. Terror took her and

she tried to scream, only to have a large hand clamp itself over

her lower face, stuffing a cloth between her teeth, muffling her

cries. She struggled to get her hands from under her body and, when

the weight lifted for a minute off her torso, she dragged herself

forward half a body length, trying to escape.

She wasn't thinking at this point, just reacting like the

trapped animal she was, and kicked out of the shorts her attacker

was pulling from her legs, half stood, and scrambled forward, her

hands going to her mouth to remove the gag so that she could scream

for help-people were all around her, if she could only scream.

Before she could take out the gag though, she ran full tilt into

someone large, someone strong, who wrapped his arms around her,

pinning her to his chest, her arms to her side, and bore her,

struggling and kicking, to the ground.

She thrashed and squirmed beneath him, and bucked in terror as

she felt warm lips press against the side of her neck, gently

nuzzling and sucking on her tender skin. She had to escape, she had

to, she thought, then froze as she felt another pair of hands

pulling at her underwear, dragging it down past her creamy thighs

and her well formed calves. She was naked from the waist down now,

and knew that these two men were going to rape her, were going to

take her virginity in a brutal, inhuman, way.

She struggled furiously, her head thrashing back and forth and

moans breaking through the gag, as she felt the man on top of her

begin working his penis free from his jeans, still sucking and

slobbering on her neck, his knees now between her legs, forcing

them apart. She felt his cock press against her virgin opening and

moaned in humiliation as his lips moved to her ear, her hands

pinning her struggling form for the moment.

"You're a hot little cunt," he whispered into her ear, her body

flushing with shame, "and hot little cunts need fucking. And I'm

going to fuck you."

She cringed at his words, and at the phallus pressing forcefully

against her pussy. She cried out in pain through her gag as the

head of his cock popped into her virgin canal, dragging the dry

flesh painfully along with it. Blackness engulfed her vision as she

felt her hymen tear beneath his battering cockhead, the pain

filling every corner of her body and mind. Her virginal blood

slicked his entry as he filled her to the balls with his throbbing

manhood, her body stiff in agony, her body feeling like it was

being torn apart.

Her rapist began brutally thrusting into her, giving her no

quarter, whispering in her ear things like "oh ya, baby, nice and

tight. Fuck ya. Good cunt," while licking and sucking on her neck.

Minutes which seemed like hours passed as he rode her, slamming her

slender hips and buttocks painfully into the dirt with each

downward thrust, and the pain gradually lessened to be replaced by

strange feeling of fullness. She barely registered this change,

though, weeping as she was in terror and humiliation. He froze on

top of her and moaned, and she could feel his seed fill her belly,

coating the inside of her vagina, bringing a cool relief to her

tortured young flesh.

He rolled off of her and she tried to get up, to finally escape;

they had taken her virginity, surely they would let her go now. She

managed to prop herself onto her elbow when two hands grabbed her

ankles and lifted her legs high into the air, forcing her once more

onto her back. Before she could do anything, her knees were beside

her head and there was another man on top of her, his penis

searching for her newly violated pussy.

She gasped as he entered her in one smooth motion: it didn't

hurt this time, her previous rapist's sperm lubricating the way for

her second violation. He began to fuck her slowly and steadily,

kissing her face, her eyes, her forehead, her lips and her neck.

After her previous rape it was almost comforting; she was exhausted

from her struggles and, held like this, almost folded in half, she

couldn't move, could only lay there, slowly getting fucked for the

second time in her young life.

A warmth spread through her body as he slowly thrust into her,

and she felt the nipples on her small but firm breasts begin to

throb beneath the chaffing of her shirt and bra, rubbing back and

forth against her breasts by the gently rocking motion of the man

above her. Her loins began to tingle, like a humming or a buzzing

deep down around her pussy, as she stared confusedly at the sky

past her rapists silowhet. What was happening to her, she though,

her fear building as the sensations of her body slowly increased.

She had never felt anything like this before, and it frightened

her. She closed her eyes, trying to forget what was happening to

her, trying to forget that she was lying in the dirt being raped by

two men, but the sensations engulfing her body, the delicious

sensations coursing along her nerves, began to overwhelm her.

Each thrust of his cock brought a muffled gasp from her as

sparks of pleasure flashed across her body. His kisses on her face

and neck became burning, thrumming pleasures as the buzzing deep

down in her groin increased with each stroke of his cock in her

tender teenaged cunt. She felt him increase his pace on top of her,

and her eyes snapped open and her body started shaking with the

tension of coming ecstacy. It felt so good, she thought, so good,

and she screamed in release as he bit down hard on her neck, the

pain sending ecstacy screaming down to her cunt, which burst out in

the most incredible sensations of her life, wave after wave of

agonizing pleasure rocking her slender young body, her cunt

gripping and grasping and twisting around the invading phallus, her

vision going black as she felt a man's seed fill her for the second

time in her life before she passed out.

When she awoke she found herself stripped naked and lying in a

5'x5' cage hanging 4' from the ground. She waited there, terror and

despair slowly growing in her as she looked around the room by the

light of the single bulb in the ceiling. The manacles on the wall,

the benches with shackles and leather restraints, the chairs with

the same, the display cases with clamps and whips and dildos, the

leather masks, the pit, three feet deep, just below her cage, all

struck fear into her heart; she started screaming for help.

She stopped and stared in surprise as the door opened and in

walked her friend, whose birthday party she had gone to, Lisa,

followed by her brother Jeff and her mother and father, Karen and

Bill, and the family dog, a german shepherd.

"It looks like our little prize has woken up," she heard Bill

say before she passed out from shock and amazement.

~Subject: Short 2.0 (mf nc)

~From: [email protected]

* * * * * * * *

Kimberly grunted around the cock filling her throat as another

cock came in her ass, filling her bowels to overflowing with jism.

She was in a sexual daze, sweat and come slicking her slender young

body and matting her long dark brown hair to her head, back, and

arms. She grunted again as the cock popped out of her ass and

another shoved itself into her well used cunt, dripping semen down

her thighs. Her knees felt bruised by the tile floor of the locker

room shower as she kneeled there, like a bitch in heat, getting

fucked over and over and over again.

She remembered how it had started, with a simple dare. At

fifteen, a freshman, she was the youngest member of the

cheerleading squad; that and her unusual beauty made the other

girls envious of her, so she was always trying her best to fit in.

She stood about five four, and was Hawiaan, with beautiful almond

eyes, turned up at the corners, and general asian cast to her

features, although her skin was a deep, gorgeous brown. Her

breasts, though not fully formed, were an appealing B-cup, accented

by her tiny waist and full hips. She danced a lot, so her legs were

beautiful and trim, as was the rest of her body, firm with youth

and exercise.

A dare, she thought as she felt more come slide down her throat,

a dare by the other girls to go into the boys locker room after the

football practice, to dash in and then dash out, a dare she had

taken. She remembered waiting until she had heard the showers

going, waiting until the coach was gone, and then, still in her

cheerleading costume, tiptoeing into the locker room, seemingly

empty yet filled with the echoing babble of young men's voices.

She had made it halfway across the room, catching glimpses of

male flesh in the showers as she crept across the floor, when she

heard someone yell, "HEY! GUYS! Look what we got here!" She turned

and ran, only to be tackled by one of the football players wearing

only a towel. She was mortified at being caught, and she began to

grow frightened as she heard a clamor of boys as they surrounded

her, their naked feet and ankles the only thing she could see.

"Let me up! Let me up!" she screamed as she struggled on the

hard floor of the locker room.

"Let's give her a shower!" she heard someone yell, and was

lifted bodily from the ground, one person holding each of her

limbs, her ass hanging slightly toward the ground as she struggled

and bucked in their grasp.

"Let go of me!" she yelled and screamed, wishing she had never

taken this dare.

Suddenly she felt cold water splash against her body, suspended

almost four feet horizontally above the ground, soaking her

cheerleading uniform. She screamed as the water became hot, then

cold again, then hot, and she was surrounded by laughing, joking,

screaming voices. Her mind was spinning but she still struggled,

hoping that they would let her go after they had had their fun. Her

outfit was plastered to her body, revealing her heaving, jiggling

breasts as she squirmed, captive, in their hands.

"Nice tits," she heard someone say, and then she felt a hand

grabbing her breast, squeezing and mauling it, causing her to

redouble her efforts to escape.

"Stop it! Stop! Let me gooo!" she yelled, futily, as she felt

more hands reach in and touch her, grab her, maul her legs,

stomach, breasts, even her crotch. Suddenly the water was off and

she was on the ground on her back, hands holding her legs and arms

while other hands felt their way across her body, pulling off her

skimpy cheerleading clothes.

"Tits...legs...cocksucker...fuck her...wants it...cunt..." she

heard from different voices as hands fought over her body, gripping

her ass, her legs, slapping her stomach, her breasts, her face. She

screamed NOOOOOOOOO! as she felt hands around her vagina, fingers

insistantly poking at her opening until they painfully entered her

while others pinched and pressed at her clitorus and still others

entered her anus.

She lay there, struggling and gasping and screaming as the hands

became less and less prodding and poking and more and more

insistent and erotic. The screams turned to moans now as her body

responded to the seemingly infinite hands fondling her body, making

her nipples and labia fill with blood and ache with desire, her

toes curling with the sensation.

Hot lips met hers and she felt a tongue enter her mouth; she

kissed back and felt pleasure suffuse her body. Her legs were

pulled apart and she felt lips at her breasts, kissing and sucking

and biting, and a cock pressing against her damp, slick cunt. She

grunted in pain and pleasure as it was rammed into her, her body

and mind awhirl with the sensations engulfing it.

She felt herself filled with come and then emptiness, only to be

filled almost immediately with another cock. Hands guided her

hands, with their slender, delicate fingers, to more cocks, and she

began to masturbate them, lost in a sexual haze. Someone jerked her

head awkwardly back and a cock was thrust into her gasping mouth

and rammed forcefully down her throught. She gasped and choked, her

body retching, but it only added to the pleasure taking over her

body.

More come filled her cunt and she felt her legs lifted to right

angles with her body and then spread wide, exposing her asshole.

Another person sat lightly on her heaving stomach and scooted up,

gripping her breasts in his hands and closing them around his cock,

mauling them into a tit-cunt which he fucked with abandon.

She felt herself come, and explosive, overwhelming orgasm, when

one person thrust his cock into her ass and another spilled his

seed down her throat. It wasn't the end, though, as the hands and

the cocks and the mouths continued to assualt her, and she found

herself coming again and again.

One time she was laying on her back on top of someone, his cock

filling her ass, her cunt stuffed full with another man's cock,

while a third man punched his cock down her throat and hands and

mouths caressed her body and breasts, sending wave after wave of

sexual energy coursing through her body.

Another found her lying on her stomach on top of someone, cunt

and ass filled with cock, hands busy masturbating more cock, and

mouth and throat busy with still another cock.

She didn't know how many times she had been fucked, or in what

positions, but she didn't care. Since her first orgasm it had

almost been one continuous come for her, and she loved the feeling

of come and sweat coating her body, loved the way it sucked

greedily at all the cocks which came near it.

She found out later that they kept her there for over three

hours while all thirty two of them fucked her repeatedly every

which way they could think of. Near the end, they decided to use

her as a toilet, urinating and shitting on her while she moaned in

the ecstacy of her abuse. They even pissed down her throat and up

her ass, and made her lick them clean after they defacated on her,

and she loved every minute of it, her twitchings and squirmings

only stopping after being left laying in a pool of urine and

excriment for almost a half hour, everyone having left.

Slowly, agonizingly, she stood up, turned on the shower, and

cleaned herself up. She then put on her clothes and staggered out

of the locker room. She had won the dare, she though, her mind

numbed by her experience.

~Subject: Short 4.0 (mf n/c asian)

~From: [email protected] (WILEY)

Warning: This story contains non-consensual sex between a white

male and an asian female. If you don't like this type of stuff,

don't read it-it's that simple.

Author's note: The fourth short, one which I may continue

unless someone else decides to.

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

Terry trembled on the end of the cock filling her cunt, her

hands and knees bruised by the hard tiled floor of the office. Her

small, lithe Japanese body dripped sweat onto the ground while she

grunted to the man's thrusts behind her, her small, round breasts

pulled from her body by gravity to swing back and forth. She felt

her body flutter as the man began filling her with his seed, and

she clamped down on her pussy, a flush of pleasure filling her

body. Her mind rebelled: oh, god, she thought, how could she be

enjoying this? What kind of whore was she?

She had been working late; at 28 years of age and just two years

out of law school, she was a go getter. Every day in a dark blue

suit which turned her trim, attractive figure hard, matching nylons

accenting her well formed legs, made more appealing by the two or

three inch heals she wore, and her long, straight, black hair

pulled back from her face to fall in a French braid down her back,

making her high cheekbones, petite features, and flashing eyes seem

severe, she strode through the halls of her office with confidence

and an attitude. They called her the dragon lady behind her back,

but she didn't care: she was going to make junior partner in one

of the most prestigous law firms in the country in record time, and

from there, partner.

It wasn't unusual for her to work late, but it was unusual for

her to be disturbed by the janitor waxing the floors. The noise

was driving her to distraction. Angry, she stood and strode down

the hall, approaching the man standing behind the waxing machine,

her heels clacking authoritatively against the floor.

"Turn that machine off!" she snapped at the man.

With a flip of the switch he killed the machine, looking over

this woman who was so imperiously glaring at him. He almost smiled

as he slowly looked her over, noting how at 5'3" she challenged his

well muscled 6'1", and especially noting how attractive she could

be if she didn't try so hard to be such a bitch.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I have a job to do."

Noticing him look her over, she began to tremble in rage. "I

have a job to do, and you're keeping me from it," she spat out.

"Now you can either find something else to do, quietly, or you can

find a new job."

His face slid from amusement to a hardness. Bitch, he thought,

fucking bitch. Telling him his job, threatening him, thinking she

was better than he was....

"You can't fire me," he said, his voice dangerous.

"Try me." With that, she turned on her heel and headed back

down the hall to her offices.

Red colored his vision as he stood there frozen, watching her

hard back move away from him. Don't let that cunt get away with

treating you like that, his mind yelled, pushing his body into

motion. With four quick strides he caught up to her and snarled as

his hand grabbed a fistful of hair, the muscles in his arm bunching

as he swung her hard into the wall, a sense of elation filling him

as she became merely and extension of his arm, his strength

becoming his power over this cunt.

As she turned on her heel, her anger had become hard: she had

shown him, she thought. Suddenly she felt movement behind her and

yelped as she felt her hair grabbed. Her hands flew up to her hair

and then in front of her as she was thrown off balance, her ankle

twisting to one side as her shoe twisted beneath her. She had lost

control of her body and the wall slamming into her came suddenly

and shockingly, stunning her as she bounced away from the wall.

Again she was thrown against the wall, this time realization

overcoming the shock of it all and she felt the pain of the contact

as her mind blazed in fury and fear. That son of a bitch, her mind

screamed, I'll kill him. I'll have him fired, blackballed, and

arrested, and then her forebrain stopped working and her brainstem

took over as she was tossed like a rag doll onto the floor, landing

hard, knocking the back of her head against the tile, temperarily

dazing her.

God it felt good, he thought as adrenaline rushed through him,

and he slammed her into the wall again, thinking bitch, fucking

bitch. Not good enough for her? Well, he'd have her singing a

different tune; he flung her down hard onto the tiled floor and

watched for a moment as she bounced once, her head striking the

tile with a thud, and then he fell on top of her, straddling her

stomach and waist.

Everything had happened in a blur, and the hormones coursing

through her body made her tense and panicky. Her breath left her

as he sat heavily on her waist and stomach. Son of a bitch, she

thought, recovering, and tried to hit him. His face was locked

into a grinning rictus and fear fluttered through her breast as he

knocked her hands away easily, and then slapped her hard on the

side of the head.

"Ah! Ah!" she exclaimed as each blow fell against her head and

face, futily trying to fend the viscious slaps off with her hands.

The blows stopped and in the second it took her to recover she felt

her shoulders and back jerked off the ground as he ripped her white

blouse violently open. "No!" she cried as she fought to keep his

hands away from completely tearing away her blouse, her narrow,

firm stomach and ribs exposed to his view. He slapped her upside

the head again and shifted his weight, and for a moment she was

free, scrambling to get out from under him, but then she felt his

strong hands on her shoulders as he flipped her over onto her

stomach, knocking the wind from her as the cool tiles pressed

against her stomach as he settled his weight down on her lower

back.

The bitch fought like a wildcat, but his blood was up, and the

feeling of his open palm against the bitch's face was unbelievable,

as was the sound of her little cries and the satisfying smack as he

landed each blow. It wasn't enough, though; he had bigger and

better plans for this little bitch. He reached down and ripped

open her blouse, watching in delight as her head snapped back as

her shoulders flew off the ground. One hard yank and it was open,

and he caught himself at the sight: her stomach was flat and firm

and her waist waspish, and her breasts, still encased in a white

bra, were perfectly porportioned to her small ribcage, her olive

skin smooth and without blemish. Her struggles increased as he

tried to pull off the blouse, so he flipped her over onto her

stomach and dragged the blouse back until it was only her around

her lower arms.

His cock was rock hard now, her struggles turning him on as she

thrashed beneath him. She'd have it filling her belly before long,

he thought, an ingenious idea coming to him at that moment. He

twisted the torn blouse around her lower arms and hands, wrapping

them up tight; it would make things easier for him, although she

was sure to get out of the tangle sooner or later.

Breathing hard now, the struggle began to take its toll on her:

he was so much stronger, there wasn't anything she could do. When

she felt her arms pulled behind her as he struggled to pull off her

blouse, she paused for an instant, catching her breath, before

trying yet again to buck him off. She moaned out loud as she felt

him wrap the blouse around her arms, pinning them there, and she

began screaming and yelling.

"Let me go! You bastard! Let me go! Son of a bitch!"

Ignoring her screams-no one could here them anyway-he tore her

bra from her, using a small pocket knife he always kept with him.

By then she had almost worked her hands loose, but he still had

time to get the bitch's skirt off before he'd have to deal with

that problem. He half stood, half crouched over her, stepping back

and grabbing the waist of her skirt in both hands. With a jerk, he

pulled it up and back, yanking the whore's whole body off the

ground and making a satisfying ripping sound as the garment slipped

off her hips.

When he yanked her bra from her, her mind was a pit of rage and

fear, and she began frenziedly working to free her arms. Suddenly

his weight was off her and she tried to squirm away when her body

was jacknifed into the air as he yanked on her skirt. She heard

the ugly rip of fabric and felt her skirt slide down to her

buttocks. Finally her arms came free and her hands and feet

scrabbled on the tiles as she tried to crawl away from this man.

She felt her body jerked back one, two more times, each yank

forcing the air from her lungs, and her skirt was around her knees

and she was desperately scrambling away from him, her skirt

slipping from around her feet, dragging her shoes with it. She was

halfway to her feet when a body surged up behind her and hands

gripped her waist, pulling her back down to a kneeling position.

Her pantihose were yanked down around her thighs, and she felt the

hands around her waist again, flipping her over hard onto her back.

What a hot body, he thought, flipping the cunt over. Bitch must

work out. He grinned at the thump she made as she landed on her

back, and at the desperate look of anger and terror on her face as

she flailed her arms and legs at him. He stood and tore off her

hose and panties with one motion, leaving her completely naked.

There was no doubt about it: he was going to rape her. That

fucking bastard-what right did he have? She felt her hose and

panties come off and rolled over onto her hands and knees, trying

to flee this son of a bitch. With a "Whoomph" she crashed hard

onto her stomach as he brought his full weight down on her,

crushing her to the floor. She felt his knees force her legs wide

while his own hands freed his manhood from his jeans. She felt it

flop against her bare ass and redoubled her efforts, but realized

it was futile when he grabbed her hips in two hands and jerked her

violently to her knees.

"Get ready, bitch, for the fucking of your life!"

"Noooo!" she screamed as she felt his cock prod at her vagina,

her effort to escape turning into a frenzied blur, until she froze

as his cock slid painfully into her small tunnel, a smooth invasion

of her cunt.

He loved this part, loved sticking it to them. The tighter the

better too. It wasn't so much the sex, or even the way his cock

felt, pulsing like it was going to explode deep in this cunt's

twat; it was the power, the domination, the forcing of himself into

their body, the violation of something so intimate to them. He was

surprised at this cunt, though: her cunt was slick, making his

entry smooth and pleasurable. Her body was soaked with sweat from

her struggles too, and he felt her skin slip against his hands as

he pulled her doll-like body against his.

Her mind emptied of all thought and passion as she realized he

had done it-he had penetrated her. It felt so strange, too,

unreal, to be held like this, forced like this, his prong

stretching her. She had had sex before, had used her body like she

used her brain to get to the top, and she knew she was good, for

she wouldn't have accepted less of herself-the right tool for the

right job. But it had always been cold, emotionless, on her

part-everything choreographed just so, everything arranged just so

so that she would have what she wanted when she was done. This

though was different, something to which she could feel her body

responding as he began to brutally fuck her from behind, dragging

tortured gasps from her straining lungs as he pounded into her.

Oh god it was so good he thought as he looked down at his prize.

The bitch wasn't giving him shit now, that was for sure. She

wasn't too good for him after all. He gave a small chuckle as he

heard her gasp from a particularly brutal thrust, and began fucking

her more vigorously.

As he increased his pace she closed her eyes and gritted her

teeth, the sensations from her cunt beginning to overwhelm her, but

she wasn't about to let that bastard see her debasement. But it

was like nothing she had ever felt before, she thought, as her body

began moving to its own rhythm, her ass jerking back against his

hips as he crashed into her, her moans a counterpoint to the harsh

smacking of flesh against flesh.

The bitch was getting into it, he saw, but they all did. They

all loved a big hard cock reaming them out; they were all whores.

A few more thrusts and he came, the sensation overwhelming,

followed by her cunt spasming around his still shooting member.

Fucking bitch got off, he thought as he leaned over her, one hand

on the floor as he recovered.

"Hello Ted," a voice said.

Ted quickly jerked himself from Terry and spun around, standing

and trying to put his cock away at the same time, to face Mr.

White, the Senior partner.

When Terry heard the voice panic screamed through her

conscousness followed quickly by shame and then relief. She had

been raped and now here was someone who would save her. She slid

quickly over to her clothes and covered herself up, drawing her

legs together and up.

"Mr. White," she started.

Ted's mind was racing furiously. Mr. White was a big man, but

almost sixty. He couldn't stand up to Ted, and then he would be

free. Damn that bitch! Ruining everything!

"So how was she Ted?"

Terry was stunned. Had she really heard what she thought she

heard? She glanced at the janitor and saw surprise and shock on

his face also.

"Wha?" he asked.

"I asked if she was good, Ted," Mr. White repeated patiently.

"Nooo!" Terry cried, scrambling to stand and run before this

insanity went any farther. Suddenly the booming voice of the

senior partner stilled her as his gnarled hand shot out to point at

her.

"You stay right where you are, young lady, if you value your

job!"

She froze. What was he saying? For the first time in years she

was confused and unsure of herself.

"Now, Ted, you still haven't answered me."

"Oh, she was damn good, all right, Mr. White."

"Nice and tight?"

"Sweet like teenaged pussy." He was grinning now. Mr. White

wouldn't turn him in.

"Good." Mr. White turned toward Terry, "Now don't you think you

had better clean him up?"

She was horrified by this nightmare; this couldn't be real.

"NO!" she shouted, standing, torn between staying and running.

Mr. White's voice grew hard. "I don't think you understand, you

little piece of ass. I can blackball you, I can make it so you

never work again, I can make it so that you wish you were a

janitor. If you don't do exactly what I say right now, and do it

well, I will crush you like an insignificant piece of trash. DO

YOU UNDERSTAND?"

She stood there looking at him stunned.

"I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

She nodded.

"Then go ahead, give the man a blow job."

She dropped, dazed, to her knees and looked up into the grinning

visage of the janitor as he smirked at her, unzipping his pants and

pulling out his now limp cock. When she placed her mouth over it

she tasted her own juices on it, but didn't let that stop her.

Slowly, under her skilled mouth and tongue, it grew until she could

only fit half of it in her mouth. She wondered if Mr. White wanted

her to deep throat it-she could, but it hurt. He had said make it

good, so she swallowed, steeled herself, and jammed his cock down

her throat until her nose smashed up against his pubic hair.

Ted moaned as the cunt took him down her throat. Who would have

thought the bitch could do that? Then something struck him as he

looked over at Mr. White: "You planned all this, didn't you?"

Mr. White laughed. "What do you think? I put a hot looking Jap

queen bitch and an ex-con put away for four counts of rape against

Japs together and you think I didn't plan this?" He laughed again.

"Why the hell do you think I hired you? After the first year I

knew this ice queen wasn't going to make it-she was too

aggressive, to domineering, and that doesn't even work for men. I

kept her anyway, and got you. You got it?"

Ted smiled. "I got it."

"Good."

Terry heard all this with growing horror. Her world was

crashing down around her. She wasn't good enough for partner? Not

even as an associate? She was only kept on so that this, this,

janitor could rape her? There was nothing, nothing left to her,

she thought, her head bobbing up and down, sliding the cock back

and forth in her throat.

"Back to business," she heard Mr. White say. "Ted, don't you

think it would be nice if you could watch Terry there play with

herself while she blew you?"

"Ya. I'd like that."

"You heard the man, Terry."

Terry flushed crimson throughout her body. Mr. White was

humiliating her-she couldn't believe it, still couldn't believe

this was happening to her.

"Don't forget, Terry," he said, "you don't do a good job, you're

out anyway. And don't even think about going to the cops-who're

they going to believe, you or me?"

She knew he was right, knew that if she wanted to retain any

little scrap of her previous life she would have to do as he said.

Slowly she let her right hand slide down her stomach to her still

sensitive labia and clitorus. Rubbing herself to coat her fingers

in her own lubricant, she began sawing back and forth at her clit,

spreading her legs so that she could get better access.

Masturbating herself, her throat around the janitor's cock, she

felt a strange rush of pleasure. The humiliation of doing

something like this against her will, in front of Mr. White, to a

janitor, was somehow exciting. Sex had never before been exciting,

and she felt her body flush with pleasure as her mind thought of

what she must look like. She began to masturbate in earnist,

sucking even harder on Ted's cock. She felt his hands grip her

head and he began fucking her face violently, but she didn't care:

she reached down now with both hands and shoved two fingers up her

twat while she furiously rubbed her clit. She came hard, her

stomach knotting up in pleasure, as she felt Ted's come slide down

her throat.

"I think she'll do," she heard Mr. White say. "Bring her to my

car; I think my son and daughter in law would like to play with her

tonight." ~Subject: Short 4.1 (unfinished)

~From: [email protected]

* * * * * * * *

This one needs a note:

I committed the error of trying the make this short into a

series, but got bogged down. I'm posting this unfinished bit

because I thought someone might like it. The direction I'm headed

is easily seen, so feel free to finish the story if you like, if

only in your mind.

* * * * * * * *

As Mr. White walked away down the hall, Terry looked up into

the grinning face of her rapist.

"You heard the man," he said, stooping to pick up her skirt and

blouse. "Put these on," tossing them to her.

She quickly dressed, feeling the sluggish roll of his semen down

her thighs, her head down and face flushed as she was reminded of

her humiliation. What had happened to her? she thought. Half an

hour ago she had been at the top of the world, a hard bitten lawyer

on her way to the big time, in complete control of her own fate,

depending only on her own abilities; now, she thought with a lump

in her throat, she was no more than Mr. White's whore. The worse

thing, though, was how her body had reacted; she blushed in shame

as she felt her body tingle at the remembrance.

"Get a move on, cunt," Ted snarled, shoving her toward the

elevators.

Meekly she obeyed, padding down the hall in her bare feet. Her

mind was filled with dread as the elevator hummed its way down to

the underground parking garage. What was next? And would Mr. White

really allow her to keep her job? If only Ted weren't standing

there smirking at her like that, his hand painfully gripping her

upper arm.

When the elevator doors opened, Mr. White was waiting, standing

next to his car. He opened the door and waved her in, and she

obeyed numbly, not daring to look up.

"Uh, Mr. White..." Ted started.

"Don't worry, Ted," Mr. White replied, "you'll be able to fuck

her, and hurt her, in the future. Just keep your mouth shut and do

your job."

"Right-o, Mr. White. Have fun," he said, smiling.

Five minutes later they were on the highway, and for the first

time since in the office Mr. White spoke to her.

"Here," he said, reaching behind him and presenting her with a

small vibrator, about four inches long and slender, "use this to

play with yourself, but don't orgasm."

She gulped silently and reached out to take the plastic toy,

feeling the heat radiating from his hand. She felt like a small

child as she slid her skirt to bunch around her hips, spreading her

legs so that she could insert the vibrator. She turned it on,

feeling the buzzing hum radiate through her hands, matching the

smooth vibrations of the luxury automobile she was within. The

whole world took on a strange, removed, air: only she and Mr. White

existed in the entire world, she, Mr. White, and this humming,

buzzing little stick in her hand. She glanced down, her vision

gliding past her sparse pubic hair to focus on the slightly swollen

lips of her labia, the juices of recent intercourse shining between

her legs. She slowly moved the vibrator until its side touched her

outer labia. She felt it spread a delicious numbness through her

groin, and she slid it up and down her crack, now staring out the

window at the cars moving like dream shapes along the highway with

them.

Too sensitive! and her hand jerked back as the vibrator touched

her clitorus. She looked over at Mr. White, saw him watching her

out of the corner of his eyes, and opened her mouth to ask a

question.

"Mr. White...?"

"Don't worry, Terry, you've still got your job. Your duties have

just been...expanded." Now he was staring directly at her hands and

crotch, watching the way she gently ran the vibrator along and

between her labia. "And if you do a good job, in both your new

responsibilities as well as your old ones, you might even make

partner by the end of the year."

The words stunned her, and almost unconscously her hands pressed

the vibrator deep into her vagina, and she gasped at the pleasure

of it. Her mind was both stunned and awhirl: she couldn't believe

any of this was happening to her-it was like a strange

hallucination; and she had thought about fucking her way to the

top-no moral or personal qualms there-but this was ridiculous.

What was Mr. White's plan for her? the question crystalizing in her

mind as she felt the growing pleasure her hands and the vibrator

were bringing her. It was so...obscene...twisted...what she was

doing now, in a car, with her boss sitting right beside her,

watching. She shuddered. Why? She was to be a sex toy, but she was

also to keep her job; how did that fit? And an offer of

partnership, but only if she was good at both whoring and

lawyering? She was confused; she didn't understand it.

Her mind slipped from these subjects as the pleasure in her

groin grew. She began gently stroking her clitorus with her fingers

as she swirled the vibrator inside herself, soft moans now escaping

her lips. She leaned her head back on the cushioned head rest and

closed her eyes, concentrating totally on the sensations coming

from her vagina. She teased herself, aware of the command not to

bring herself to orgasm-how strange, she thought, the care she

took not to bring herself to a point she had never reached before

tonight.

She was brought out of her sexual daze when she felt the car

come to a halt, and she lazily lifted up her head to look over at

Mr. White. She saw his eyes rivited on her exposed groin, and a

similtaneous blush of shame and pleasure suffused her whole body.

"Get out of the car," he commanded.

Carefully she opened the car door, removing the vibrator and

switching it off. She stepped out onto the driveway, her legs weak

and rubbery from unfulfilled lust, and looked up at a gorgeous

victorian mansion. She stared at it, taking in its magnificence,

until she felt Mr. White take the vibrator dangling from her hand

and place it into his breast pocket.

"Come."

Terry followed him, the pavement hard beneath her feet-what had

happened to the rest of her clothes, she wondered idly: probably

thrown away by Ted, Ted her body shuddered.

Through a large atrium, turn left down a long hallway lined with

doors, through one of the doors down stairs to a small room with a

couch and a television and a door. The door is locked, and

unlocking it into a short hallway with another locked door, opening

into a bright, huge, she could only describe it as a paradise.

Ferns grew along the walls, pushing out toward the center of the

room, full spectrum heat lamps making the room muggy with a slight

mist spraying from mirrored walls and ceilings onto the plants

every few minutes. Italian tile, a deep, rich green, covered the

floor, leading to a pond-a swimming pool-in the center of the

room. Surrounding the pool large pillows of every color lay spread

about, with glittering silver chains and leather cuffs and strands

here and there. A table between the far wall and the pool held a

dizzying array of fruit and jams and honeys: large strawberries

piled haphazardly in a bowl spilling onto the table, crowding green

and red and yellow melons, sliced into thin cresent moon wedges,

aside. Grapes, small and large, green and red, lay scattered among

bowls of apricot and peach, strawberry and apple jams, and slender,

small caraffs filled with amber honey sticking their necks above

rolling apples. Kiwis, sliced open to reveal their sparkling green

flesh, and cubes of dull yellow mango interwove themselves into

this tapestry, and other fruits too, fruits she could not name but

which looked cool and sweet and pleasant.

A cooling breeze blew from somewhere, swirling about, breaking

up the humidity of the room, and a movement from across the room

caught her eye. Adam and Eve, her mind immediately thought, but no.

She stood stock still, her feet beaded with the dampness of the

tiles, Mr. White slightly behind her to her right, while the two

most beautiful people she had ever seen raised themselves from a

pile of pillows and began to cross the room toward her.

The man was about 6'1" with dark hair, short and in a gentle

wave, and the face and body of Adonis. Dark eyes stared piercingly

out of a strong, masculine face, a face with strong lines and a

sharp nose. His chest was broad, his arms muscular, his stomach a

board of rippling muscles stepping down to a trim waist and large,

strong thighs and calves. Embarrassed, her eyes skipped past his

naked manhood.

The woman was maybe 5'9" and an Aphrodite to match his Adonis.

Dark blonde hair, wet and matted like an otter's skin, hung down

her back to her waist. A large forehead, large, languid blue eyes,

a soft, round nose, high cheekbones, and full red lips arranged as

if by a master painter (no, not Picasso) make up her face, and her

body was even more beautiful. Wide, strong shoulders-swimmer's

shoulders-narrowed to a firm chest and outthrusting breasts topped

by small, dark red nipples. Her waist was narrow and her stomach

flat, the skin sliding smoothly across the muscles underneath. The

light patch of her pubic hair split two gorgeously long legs, with

full, strong thighs and well-rounded calves. She radiated an air of

sensual sleekness.

"Terry," Mr. White startled her out of herself, "my son and his

wife, Dan and Diane."

"She's beautiful," Diane cooed, her hand gently caressing

Terry's arm, sending goosebumps across her skin, "and her hair....

Terry, you must promise me never to change your hairstyle. This

braid is so becoming."

Terry was completely out of her element. She felt unsure,

defenseless, scared, and, she admitted, shy and excited. It was

like she was a little girl again, standing before her mother while

being bathed. She nodded to Diane, not able to say anything.

"She is stunning, Dad. She wasn't hurt, I hope."

"No. She wasn't hurt. Enjoyed herself, I think."

She blushed at this and Diane still fondling her braid, running

the end teasingly across her back and buttocks through her clothes.

"Good, good," Dan continued, "and don't worry, Dad, we've got

everything all set up. See you later."

With a grunt Mr. White left, leaving her alone with these two

beautiful people in this room of lavish excess.

"We can't call her Terry, now, can we Dan."

"No no. You're right. We'll have to think of something else."

They paused for a moment, still staring at her, and she trembled

under their gaze. It was so appraising, so possessive yet also

strangely tender and kind.

"I know," Diane said, "Kiko. Her name will be Kiko."

"Good. I like that. Now little one, your new name is Kiko.

Whenever you're with us, you will be Kiko. Understand?" he asked,

smiling down at her.

"Yes, Mr. White."

"Oh no, that's all wrong," Diane broke in. "You must call us

Master and Mistress, for that is who we are. Now what is your

name?" she asked, stroking her head.

"Kiko, Mistress." silently and reached out to take the plastic

toy, feeling the heat radiating from his hand. She felt like a

small child as she slid her skirt to bunch around her hips,

spreading her legs so that she could insert the vibrator. She

turned it on, feeling the buzzing hum radiate through her hands,

matching the smooth vibrations of the luxury automobile she was

within. The whole world took on a strange, removed, air: only she

and Mr. White existed in the entire world, she, Mr. White, and this

humming, buzzing little stick in her hand. She glanced down, her

vision gliding past her sparse pubic hair to focus on the slightly

swollen lips of her labia, the juices of recent intercourse shining

between her legs. She slowly moved the vibrator until its side

touched her outer labia. She felt it spread a delicious numbness

through her groin, and she slid it up and down her crack, now

staring out the window at the cars moving like dream shapes along

the highway with them. Too sensitive! and her hand jerked back as

the vibrator touched her clitorus. She looked over at Mr. White,

saw him watching her out of the corner of his eyes, and opened her

mouth to ask a question. "Mr. White...?" "Don't worry, Terry,

you've still got your job. Your duties have just been...expanded."

Now he was staring directly at her hands and crotch, watching the

way she gently ran the vibrator along and between her labia. "And

if you do a good job, in both your new responsibilities as well as

your old ones, you might even make partner by the end of the year."

The words stunned her, and almost unconscously her hands pressed

the vibrator deep into her vagina, and she gasped at the pleasure

of it. Her mind was both stunned and awhirl: she couldn't believe

any of this was happening to her-it was like a strange

hallucination; and she had thought about fucking her way to the

top-no moral or personal qualms there-but this was ridiculous.

What was Mr. White's plan for her? the question crystalizing in her

mind as she felt the growing pleasure her hands and the vibrator

were bringing her. It was so...obscene...twisted...what she was

doing now, in a car, with her boss sitting right beside her,

watching. She shuddered. Why? She was to be a sex toy, but she was

also to keep her job; how did that fit? And an offer of

partnership, but only if she was good at both whoring and

lawyering? She was confused; she didn't understand it. Her mind

slipped from these subjects as the pleasure in her groin grew. She

began gently stroking her clitorus with her fingers as she swirled

the vibrator inside herself, soft moans now escaping her lips. She

leaned her head back on the cushioned head rest and closed her

eyes, concentrating totally on the sensations coming from her

vagina. She teased herself, aware of the command not to bring

herself to orgasm-how strange, she thought, the care she took not

to bring herself to a point she had never reached before tonight.

She was brought out of her sexual daze when she felt the car come

to a halt, and she lazily lifted up her head to look over at Mr.

White. She saw his eyes rivited on her exposed groin, and a

similtaneous blush of shame and pleasure suffused her whole body.

"Get out of the car," he commanded. Carefully she opened the car

door, removing the vibrator and switching it off. She stepped out

onto the driveway, her legs weak and rubbery from unfulfilled lust,

and looked up at a gorgeous victorian mansion. She stared at it,

taking in its magnificence, until she felt Mr. White take the

vibrator dangling from her hand and place it into his breast

pocket. "Come." Terry followed him, the pavement hard beneath her

feet-what had happened to the rest of her clothes, she wondered

idly: probably thrown away by Ted, Ted her body shuddered. Through

a large atrium, turn left down a long hallway lined with doors,

through one of the doors down stairs to a small room with a couch

and a television and a door. The door is locked, and unlocking it

into a short hallway with another locked door, opening into a

bright, huge, she could only describe it as a paradise. Ferns grew

along the walls, pushing out toward the center of the room, full

spectrum heat lamps making the room muggy with a slight mist

spraying from mirrored walls and ceilings onto the plants every few

minutes. Italian tile, a deep, rich green, covered the floor,

leading to a pond-a swimming pool-in the center of the room.

Surrounding the pool large pillows of every color lay spread about,

with glittering silver chains and leather cuffs and strands here

and there. A table between the far wall and the pool held a

dizzying array of fruit and jams and honeys: large strawberries

piled haphazardly in a bowl spilling onto the table, crowding green

and red and yellow melons, sliced into thin cresent moon wedges,

aside. Grapes, small and large, green and red, lay scattered among

bowls of apricot and peach, strawberry and apple jams, and slender,

small caraffs filled with amber honey sticking their necks above

rolling apples. Kiwis, sliced open to reveal their sparkling green

flesh, and cubes of dull yellow mango interwove themselves into

this tapestry, and other fruits too, fruits she could not name but

which looked cool and sweet and pleasant. A cooling breeze blew

from somewhere, swirling about, breaking up the humidity of the

room, and a movement from across the room caught her eye. Adam and

Eve, her mind immediately thought, but no. She stood stock still,

her feet beaded with the dampness of the tiles, Mr. White slightly

behind her to her right, while the two most beautiful people she

had ever seen raised themselves from a pile of pillows and began to

cross the room toward her. The man was about 6'1" with dark hair,

short and in a gentle wave, and the face and body of Adonis. Dark

eyes stared piercingly out of a strong, masculine face, a face with

strong lines and a sharp nose. His chest was broad, his arms

muscular, his stomach a board of rippling muscles stepping down to

a trim waist and large, strong thighs and calves. Embarrassed, her

eyes skipped past his naked manhood. The woman was maybe 5'9" and

an Aphrodite to match his Adonis. Dark blonde hair, wet and matted

like an otter's skin, hung down her back to her waist. A large

forehead, large, languid blue eyes, a soft, round nose, high

cheekbones, and full red lips arranged as if by a master painter

(no, not Picasso) make up her face, and her body was even more

beautiful. Wide, strong shoulders-swimmer's shoulders-narrowed to

a firm chest and outthrusting breasts topped by small, dark red

nipples. Her waist was narrow and her stomach flat, the skin

sliding smoothly across the muscles underneath. The light patch of

her pubic hair split two gorgeously long legs, with full, strong

thighs and well-rounded calves. She radiated an air of sensual

sleekness. "Terry," Mr. White startled her out of herself, "my son

and his wife, Dan and Diane." "She's beautiful," Diane cooed, her

hand gently caressing Terry's arm, sending goosebumps across her

skin, "and her hair.... Terry, you must promise me never to change

your hairstyle. This braid is so becoming." Terry was completely

out of her element. She felt unsure, defenseless, scared, and, she

admitted, shy and excited. It was like she was a little girl again,

standing before her mother while being bathed. She nodded to Diane,

not able to say anything. "She is stunning, Dad. She wasn't hurt,

I hope." "No. She wasn't hurt. Enjoyed herself, I think." She

blushed at this and Diane still fondling her braid, running the end

teasingly across her back and buttocks through her clothes. "Good,

good," Dan continued, "and don't worry, Dad, we've got everything

all set up. See you later." With a grunt Mr. White left, leaving

her alone with these two beautiful people in this room of lavish

excess. "We can't call her Terry, now, can we Dan." "No no. You're

right. We'll have to think of something else." They paused f