danger

“So, you think you might be OK, now? A different perspective, I hope?”



“Yes, yes, thank you, . . . You know I haven’t gotten your name. I feel so . . .”



“No need to, son. You can just call me Dingle. And I won’t be seeing you up here again, I do hope.”



“Umm. I kinda hoped that—”



“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. Of course you can come visit me whenever you have a hankering to. I meant I hoped I wouldn’t see you climbing around on the cliff top again. It’s mighty dangerous over there.”



“No . . . no, sir, I don’t think you’ll see me . . . walking around there anymore.”



They looked at each other, both knowing what was meant but not said.



They were standing, awkwardly, at the door to the lighthouse in the evening mist so heavy now that, although the structure stood at the edge of a precipice over the entrance to the harbor and they could hear the surf pounding on the rocks at the base below, they couldn’t see the water.



Dingle watched the young man as he, mercifully, took the path leading down to the shore rather than the one that ran precariously out along the top of the cliff. Then Dingle sighed a satisfied sigh and withdrew into the base of the lighthouse, which was also his living quarters—his bedroom the next level up and then the bath and a small laundry. Two smaller floors of storage rooms rose above that in the narrowing tower, with his “operations” room at the top, capped only by a strobing light chamber bulbing out over the whole, erect structure.



You had to be in great shape to manage the stairs in a lighthouse, and Dingle was, even though he was well into his fifties. He was in great shape. Working out was his second favorite activity. There wasn’t much else he could bide his time with on this isolated promontory jutting out to sea over the entrance into the harbor. It was a solitary life, and the requirements of the lighthouse weren’t onerous. The harbor town, such as it was, was a good twenty miles inland, the harbor being long and narrow, and the shipping and fishing industry hereabouts not being what it used to be.



There were moments when Dingle was afraid they might close down this lighthouse. But the passage through the straits here was treacherous and there was a more modern, bustling, and heavily populated harbor city beyond here just up the coast requiring an assurance of safe passage through this patch of difficulty.



Dingle didn’t know what he’d do if they closed him down. This had been his life for nearly fifteen years now.



There were no working family farms or sheepherding ranches out this way anymore. A large conglomerate had bought just about everyone out with the stated intention of putting a power plant out here and also going into cattle raising for the market down at the big city in a big way. But the downturn in the economy had put that on hold.



“Thank the gods for that,” Dingle mused as he puttered around the semicircle of kitchen cabinetry that followed the curve of the wall on the first level. He hadn’t had time to put the tea things away before they’d gone up the ladder. He thanked the gods for the delay in settlement around here, because it would surely put this good thing—his whole life—in peril.



It was only Dingle and this lighthouse for miles about—with the exception of the young men’s military school on the shore just inside the entrance to the harbor.



An isolated, foreboding chunk of fearsome concrete, it was. Placed there to intimidate the young men sent there—of college age and great athletic program material, most of them. But recalcitrant, lazy, slow learning, or, worse, criminal young men. Some of them young men who just didn’t fit—who had chosen what was not acceptable. It was an institution of last resort for most of them—shape up and meet the specifications for getting on that football team on a scholarship at Big U or shape up and take one last chance to stay out of prison or a life of unacceptance. Or else.



They weren’t coddled at that school, no sir. And, being young men coming in with chips on their shoulders or fears in their hearts into a regimented institution that naturally formed its survival cliques and pecking orders, it was a stressful environment for any young man who couldn’t fit the mold—or couldn’t convince others he did. The only difference between the Hansen Military Academy and a prison for hardened criminals was that more of the inmates at Hansen were not hardened—in fact were quite vulnerable—young men, and that the students at Hansen had periods in which they could leave the school grounds. Of course, not many left very often, because there wasn’t much of anyplace to go.



There was, though, a path leading up to the high cliffs overlooking the perilous entrance to the harbor—and there was the lighthouse.



* * * *



Young Daniel wasn’t headed in any particular direction when he left the barracks. He’d just known he had to get out of there. They’d been teasing him again. Left that DVD on his nightstand so that any of the other guys who passed by—and a lot did—could see the photo on it, would know instantly what it was. And would assume he put it there—like he was advertising or something.



Why had that Jack Tangier from his neighborhood been sent here too? In truth, it was Jack who came here first—and he, Daniel, was only here because his parents had found out about the place from Jack’s parents.



But for the same reason Daniel’s parents had sent him here, they shouldn’t have sent him where another guy from the neighborhood was sent. Jack’s issue was that he and some others had stolen a car one night and gone for a joy ride. He’d been slated to start his second year down at Florida State this year, with a guaranteed spot on the basketball team. But the drunken escapade with the car had scotched all of that. Still, he was good enough on the basketball court, that all of that had been hushed up and the worst he got was a year here at Hansen to straighten himself—and his faltering grades—out.



Daniel had been sent here for another reason. And Jack Tangier had known what that reason was. And even before Daniel had arrived at Hansen, so did nearly every other young man in the school.



And they teased and harassed him mercilessly. And he couldn’t take any more. The DVD and the comments and threats and demands that came after that had sent Daniel stumbling out of the barracks and away from the school grounds at dusk.



He had no idea where he was going. He only knew what he wanted to do. What he was determined to do. The only thing he thought there was left to do.



He found his feet leading him to the path that went up to the cliffs at the entrance of the harbor. He’d been up there a few times in the daylight. And it had scared him. The footing was treacherous. The slightest misstep from the path—obviously made for goats—and you’d be tumbling down onto the rocks and into the surging surf thirty feet below. The cliff-side path had been posted, of course. They didn’t keep the guys from Hansen from going out there, though. And it was one of the rites of passages at the academy—to make it all the way from one end of the path to the other.



Daniel had only been there the once. It had scared the shit out of him. He hadn’t made it down the path. It had been an easy way to die, he’d thought. And that thought now propelled him up the cliff—to the path leading along its top.



He had been standing there, for some time, on the edge. Crying quietly and going over all of the events of his life—all of the reasons why he’d do this, why there was no other choice. Trying to build up the courage to actually do it.



“It’s becoming a cold evening. Fancy a cup of coffee, son? I know I’m ready for one.”



The voice was soft, almost a whisper—coming from the edge of Daniel’s vision in the misty gloom.



Now that he’d heard it, he felt like it was at least the second time he’d been addressed. It was so easy for words to be snatched away and wafted out over the sea here on an evening like this.



“What?” His response wasn’t brilliant. But it was a response. He was engaging. And it drew him back a step from the edge.



“I said that I’d just put the pot on when I saw you walking up the path from down at the shore. I bet you’re from Hansen’s. You wouldn’t have guessed, but I get a lot of the lads visiting me up here from Hansen’s. I’d like to think it’s the conversation. But I think it’s probably the coffee and cookies. Don’t get much of them down at Hansen’s, I wouldn’t imagine. It can be a bit too strict down there—and not understanding enough. Don’t you think?”



He was rambling, certainly, and Daniel had to strain to hear him. He was still doing barely more than whispering. Daniel had to step back a few more steps to hear him, even though the whisperer was drawing closer to him.



“My name is Dingle, what’s yours?” he was asking as he drew near. Daniel almost tripped on a projecting rock as he stepped closer another step—to hear the man better—and Dingle extended a hand to help keep him from falling. When Daniel had steadied himself, Dingle left his hand on Daniel’s elbow.



“My name is Dingle, what’s yours?” he repeated. Still the soft, reassuring, neutral whisper.



“Daniel. Thanks. I think I’d better . . . though.”



“You’re shivering son. How about a nice cup of coffee before you go down. Ever seen a lighthouse?”



“No. I haven’t.” Daniel looked up at the lighthouse, looking from here like it was rising out of a cloud at its base. From here, like this, the phallic aspect of it didn’t escape him, and he moaned softly.



“Coffee and cookies? What do you say to that?”



* * * *



“So, what you’re saying is that you fancy going with other boys—men? Well, if so, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just a thing of nature. The only shame is feeling the shame and letting others make you feel it.”



Dingle was talking about it—his voice still not that much above a whisper—like there was nothing to it. That all Daniel had to do was recognize and accept it. This was something Daniel had never heard before. Everyone else either wanted it on the sly or wanted to lecture him about it being a sickness, a sin, a weakness that he had to “cure” or hide or run away from.



“I can’t go back. They all—”



“Do you know the look of a man when he wants you, Daniel?”



“Yes. Yes, I guess I do.” Daniel hadn’t thought about it before—he certainly hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about it. Dingle was the first one he could be open to about it. But he’d answered right out. Without thinking about it, he guessed, he did know that look.



“Go back and look around at the senior-most students there, Daniel. The biggest, most popular athletes. Pay attention to them looking at you. You are someone they would look at. Don’t downgrade yourself there.”



“Yes, but—”



“And when you get that look from one of them—and you will, I can guarantee it; I can give you a few names even, if you want—when one of them looks at you like that, give him what he wants. He’ll protect you. You won’t have trouble from any of the other guys after that.”



Daniel was silent for a moment, thinking.



“And it will be freeing. It won’t be just the protection you’re getting from him. Trust me on that.”



After a pause, Daniel looked up and spoke. “No one has talked to me about it like this—like it’s just normal for some guys. Not something to fight—or to fight about. Thanks. I don’t know how to thank—”



But then he looked up at Dingle and into his eyes. The look. The look was there, and Daniel knew how he could thank Dingle.



Looking at Dingle before they had climbed the ladder to the second level, leaving the half-finished coffee things where they were on the small wooden table, Daniel saw a weather-beaten, graying man more than twice his age. But seeing Dingle upstairs, unclothed, and then lying under Dingle as he deeply plowed him over the next hour, Daniel saw and felt a tower of strength and power—an experienced man with a lighthouse of a phallus who could work his body as no one else ever had in his earlier furtive couplings.



And it wasn’t just the fucking. Dingle laid Daniel on his back on the small cot of a bed in the center of the circular chamber and knelt between his trembling thighs and sucked and stroked with his hand and worked Daniel’s rim with his lips and tongue and teeth until, writhing under him, Daniel came in a profusion of release. No one, in all of his brief, secret fumblings, had made love to Daniel’s cock and rim like this—centering on Daniel, concentrating on giving him the ultimate pleasure. Before, it had always been furtive and almost comically inexpert.



Dingle was a masterful lover.



And, oh, the fucking. After Daniel’s release, Dingle rising up on his feet between Daniel’s thighs, telling Daniel what he was going to do and showing him the massive staff he was going to do it with—and then doing it—slowly, drawing out every sensation of the taking. Slow slide in, slow, slow, deep, deeper. Daniel crying out, the pace quickening and Dingle moving the positions, seeking ever deeper access, ever more intimate embraces and fervent kisses. Showing Daniel ways of taking he’d never dreamed of before. Daniel ejaculating again—and then again. Dingle taking his time, no one to worry about seeing or hearing them. An hour and more of the most glorious taking Daniel had ever had.



Being shown, in the clearest way possible, how good life could be.



Still holding hands at the door, Dingle whispered—as he had done with other young men before and before that, “No need to walk on the cliffs now, Daniel? A bit different perspective on life now? Not so bleak?”



“Yes. Oh, yes, Dingle. Can I—?”



“Come back to see me? Yes, lad. Anytime you have the notion. Anytime you need reminding that it can be something special—and is worth living for.” Said in a whisper. But now, fully in tune with the master, Daniel clearly heard every word, felt deeply its meaning and salvation.



* * * *



“I have a secret, Dingle,” spoken in belabored tones, his back arched against Dingle’s chest, a leg raised over Dingle’s thigh, Dingle’s hand palmed on his breasts, thumbing his nipples, while Dingle was still moving his cock deep inside his channel.



“We all have secrets, Sean,” Dingle whispering in Sean’s ear, teething an earlobe and enjoying the gasp at the magic his cock was playing out in Sean’s channel.



“Yes, but mine is about you. I should not tell.”



“Then don’t.”



“I didn’t come up here to jump. Others haven’t either. I’m sure some have, but most haven’t.”



“Ah.”



“I came up here for your cock—your fucking. It’s legendary.”



“That’s perhaps no secret to me—the part of why some of you come up here. My young men, ones who come back—and come back for years after Hansen. Some have confessed. But it doesn’t matter, Sean. Some do come up here to jump. That is why I am still here when a young man comes struggling up the path.”



All told in a soft, melodious whisper.

From the author: A New Way To Read Erotica.



Thank-you dear reader for choosing to read my work. I wanted to present readers with a slightly different way to read erotica. To this end I present ‘The Valhalla Chronicles’.



Rather than have a single story that has consecutive chapters what I have done is written what I call ‘a parent story’ and a series of ‘chronicles’ to accompany it.



I wrote the parent story ‘A Night In Valhalla’ first. It was written in ‘the first person’ perspective from the eyes of ‘Alan Shaw’.



Rather than write subsequent chapters I had another idea. A series of companion stories written in ‘the third person’ perspective picking up what happened next from the view point of the other characters introduced in ‘A Night In Valhalla’.



Using that method, as long as you read the ‘parent story’ first, you can then go on to read any of the chronicle stories in any order depending who you want to follow first.



So I present to you the second of the ‘Valhalla Chronicles’ from the perspective of Grace English.



Each experience will be as different as the person they follow. Grace’s journey will be a continuation down a dark (some would say beautiful) path, whereas the previous chronicle (Tara Morgane) was a slightly more romantic affair. Different people, different journeys.



So if you have not done so already, please go to my profile and read ‘A Night In Valhalla’ first. You will enjoy ‘Valhalla Chronicles: Grace English’ and ‘Valhalla Chronicles: Tara Morgane’ much more if you do so.



The stories will span many genres. The parent story was exhibitionism, Tara’s journey is erotic coupling (with mild bondage elements). This Grace English chronicle will be more about sexual and emotional submission.



Thank-you once again dear reader. I hope you will appreciate that I have tried to do something new and fresh with this and at least humour me and my madness.



A Sincerest Thank-You



Dimachearus.



(Aka William)








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







Grace English was now thirty two years old.



She was an extremely successful and highly respected attorney, and thanks to a couple of very high profile cases (which of course she won), she had even managed to become a moderately famous one too.



An attractive, auburn haired beauty.



Her slim frame and ‘girl next-door’ looks had deceived and disarmed many of her opponents in the past. Her exceptional intelligence and guile in the courtroom had even given her the enviable reputation of being almost unbeatable.



Up until now her life had been the kind of rags to riches story that you could read about in the pages of a glossy magazine, but to her growing dismay, she had never been able to replicate that same kind of success in her own personal life.



It would be more accurate to say that she now had no personal life at all.



Grace quickly discovered that success usually came with some unfortunate side-effects.



Spare time was the one commodity that she craved the most but never had.



Hugely successful and wildly in demand as she was, Grace now found herself to be financially rich, but time poor.



That poverty of time had also resulted in another, even more distressing outcome.



The sheer impossibility of any kind of real and meaningful relationship.



There was just no time in her life left for any kind of significant other.



Not having that close loving bond with a man had been so very difficult for her to bear at times, but there was now an even more pressing matter that had begun to distract her more and more lately.



Her constantly growing and always unfulfilled desires.



It is often said that a woman will hit her sexual peak in her early thirties, but to Grace, that little factoid just seemed like some kind of cruel joke. An ironic slap in the face to a woman with a desperate itch she had no way of scratching.



Most nights Grace would arrive home from work and then attempt to just swallow her own frustration. She would simply push it all into some dark corner somewhere deep inside her soul, and for a while, that method had even worked.



But….It didn’t take long before that too began to fail. That deep dark corner suddenly got very crowded as those repressed feelings of desire and arousal began to overflow and escape.



Immediately the problem became so much worse than before.



The Valhalla club had turned out to be the salvation of Grace English.



She was the only member ever to have discovered the existence of that secret of organisation completely on her own.



Once she knew of its existence she simply found her own way into the fold.



Using a combination of audacity and her own legal prowess, she successfully lobbied and then gained acceptance as a full member of Valhalla.



It was an unprecedented and impressive feat. It was also a true indication of just how intelligent and persistent she was.



You would think that once she was accepted into Valhalla, the very frustrated and sexually repressed Grace English would ‘go for broke’ and engage in every act and sordid fantasy under the sun…but not her.



It was enough for Grace to just be in that atmosphere. That very environment of



‘sex and power’ alone had been enough to satisfy her at first.



She witnessed men and women performing the kind of acts she had only read in books or fantasised about as she lay in bed.



She discovered that the act of sex itself was visually quite beautiful if performed passionately by the right people.



In a startling realisation one night, it occurred to her that despite her frequent visits to Valhalla, she had not slept with a single man in almost eighteen months.



There had been no boyfriends or dating or anything else for that matter, just her work and a couple of visits to the club every week.



“Jesus! How did I let that happen?” She had asked herself then.



She knew the answer to that question already. Grace English had become a slave to her job. Her all consuming and time devouring job.



Right then and there Grace decided to fix that situation. Decisiveness had always been a key reason for her professional success. Maybe it was now time to apply that same ethos to her personal life too.



She would now resolve to use all those facilities that Valhalla had placed at her disposal.



She would end her sexual drought in one emphatic and public statement.



It would to be a carefully conceived and choreographed sex act with her as the star attraction.



In one night she would put an end to all those rumours. She would show everyone that Grace English was not the ‘frigid bitch’ that they all seemed to think she was.



But…why even stop there? She was not simply going to put an end to those rumours, she was going to destroy them all with one remarkable act.



One woman, three men and an audience. That was the idea that started it all off.



It took more courage and planning than Grace had expected. It had literally been a full six months from the inception of that idea to the moment she had walked onto that tiny stage.



The reasons for that delay had much more to do with her own fear, than the complexity of what she had asked for.



‘What are they gonna think of me? Would any of them even want to watch me make love to three men?’



It was a ridiculous question to be asking herself of course.



It also spoke volumes about her own lack of confidence as a woman. The last remnant of a lonely adolescence.



When that night finally arrived, literally every Valhalla member had requested to be present. Only a very lucky forty-five of them had gotten that privilege and more than half of that number happened to be women.



It seems the public act of a woman having sex with multiple males had very much featured in the fantasies of just about every female Valhalla member.



The fact that it was a woman that they all knew and respected just seemed to add an extra dimension to an already exceptional act.



“Three consecutive men in one night, that pretty much sums it up right?” Tara Morgane had asked her a few weeks before as they sat in a booth in the Valhalla reception room.



Tara Morgane and Grace had hit it off right from the very first moment they met almost two years earlier.



Tara had worked her way up the ladder to be the ‘head of member liasons’ at the Valhalla Club now.



Right from the start there just seemed to be a realisation that both of them possessed kindred souls.



It was a difficult relationship to define but it was also a very honest and real one too.



Sisters in the sorority of life.



It was a month before the big night was to take place and the nervous anticipation of it all was almost intoxicating.



“Three strong and handsome men.” Grace thought a little more before elaborating. “Taking turns at pleasuring me.”



“Excuse me if I’m being crass Grace but we need to be specific about all the details. I want to make this the best experience ever, and to do that I’m going to need total honesty.”



“You know you can ask anything you want.” Grace replied confidently.



Tara Morgane brought out a legal pad and began to make notes as she continued to ask questions.



“When you say ‘taking turns at pleasuring you’, you really mean taking turns at ‘fucking’ you right? Full penetration I mean.”



Grace English actually took the lead then and just spelt it all out. She had been nervous about this for weeks, but she had now come to the conclusion that she just needed to be brave and make her fantasy real once and for all.



“I want three ‘big-dicked’ studs to take turns at fucking my brains out in front of these high and mighty Valhalla ‘stiffs’.”



The two women laughed then.



“Why miss English!” Tara said coyly before adding “A woman after my own heart. I swear if you were a man I’d be in love right now!”



“We’ll you’re not quite my type Tara, but if I were into girls I’d jump you on the spot!”



Again the two women laughed.



“So….let’s make a check-list.” Tara said before calling out items.



“Let’s see….Three big handsome studs with huge dicks. An appreciative audience. Sounds hot so far, but what about the other things. Rough or gentle?”



“Rough. I like a bit of enthusiasm” Grace replied.



“How about fetishes Miss English?”



“Like what?”



“Oh I don’t know. Do you like being tied up or maybe blindfolded? How about a spanking or some mild bondage?”



“Why…..Are you offering?” Grace said with a mischievous smile.



“Only if you’ve been a very very bad girl.” Tara replied trying to stifle a slight chuckle.



Grace paused in thought for just a moment as the various scenarios began to play out in her mind.



To say that she had never thought of such things would be a lie.



In fact, the whole ‘loss of control’ idea head featured in her fantasies more times than she could remember……but…..exploring those ideas in front of a group of her peers was another matter entirely.



“Well…I like the blindfold idea Tara….and who knows…maybe I even deserve a good spanking…I’ll leave that to your discretion,” she finally decided.



Tara’s next question didn’t seem particularly significant to either of them at the time. Only later would it prove to be perhaps the most important part of that whole exchange.



“Do you like surprises Grace?”



“Well, professionally speaking, no, but something tells me that’s not the kind of surprise you’re talking about is it.”



“All I’m saying Grace, is that you and I have planned this very carefully. Nothing has been left to chance. There are no random elements at play…..not unless…..now how should I put it….. not unless I was to provide a fun little surprise or two.”



Grace thought again for a moment.



“You know that actually sounds kinda fun. Okay…give it your best shot. But I have to tell you that I’ve pretty much seen it all in my line of work.”



“You just leave that part to me Grace. I can be very inventive. Trust me, I’ll come up with something you’re gonna love.”



Looking back on it now there was no way Tara Morgane could have foreseen the full impact of that decision.



She had literally hundreds of options to choose from when planning that ‘fun little surprise’.



It had to be special and it needed to be personal too. Something symbolic.



As fate would have it, Tara’s extensive research into the life of Grace English kept on revealing the same name again and again. A call-girl by the name of……………………..



***



“Jasmine Parks.” Grace whispered softly to herself. She was finally alone now.



Her big Valhalla ‘presentation’ had only ended just five minutes before.



That conversation with Tara had only been a month ago but it seemed like a distant memory.



She shook uncontrollably as the adrenaline still coursed through her veins.



Her mind just kept on replaying the last two hours of her life in minute detail over and over.



She sat on the edge of a rather large bed dressed only in a plain white Valhalla bath-robe.



Only moments before she had been escorted to this private room by one of the female associates.



A change of clothing and lingerie had been laid out neatly on the bed for her as promised, and



A selection of expensive cosmetics and hair-care products had also been provided.



The droning sound of water striking ceramic tiles echoed from the bathroom as the shower continued to run and steam billowed through the doorway.



More out of habit than anything else she loosened her robe and let it fall to the floor as she walked naked into the bathroom and then slid underneath those welcoming jets of hot water.



A sharp, stinging pain erupted from between her legs then as the hot water made contact with her raw, sensitive flesh.



She grunted and mewed in pain.



After a few moments the pain subsided a little, but she still clearly felt the physical effects of her ordeal. Not just on the outside, but deep within her too. It was a kind of dull throb that continued to pulse somewhere deep inside her.



That full intense feeling in her stomach didn’t seem to be leaving either. She felt it acutely as if those men were still violating her. Still pounding their huge cocks into her tiny little frame.



There was no precedent for what she was feeling. Nothing to compare it to.



“God I can still feel it so bad.” She said quietly to herself as the water ran in tiny rivulets down her body and then flowed down between her legs.



She found that feeling comforting.



Grace began to slide a bar of soap over her body as the pain from her crotch and pelvis began to wane. She slid the soap down between her legs and for the first time allowed her fingers to examine the aftermath of the extreme double penetration she had just experienced.



Her vagina just felt raw and her clitoris extremely sensitive to the touch. Her poor little pussy had been just been penetrated and pounded mercilessly by maybe the biggest cock it had ever had to deal with.



But…grace knew that the state of her pussy was not her greatest concern then. She was more worried about the state her thoroughly abused little ass-hole, which up until tonight had never been violated by anything bigger than a finger.



She was all too aware that her anal virginity had just been taken by a cock that was even bigger than the ones that had pounded her pussy.



“Oh christ here goes.” grace said out loud then as she probed at her tortured little ass-hole with her fingers as she stood in that shower.



To her surprise there was no pain to the touch just a dull numbing ache.



As Grace gently continued to probe with two fingers she was shocked to discover that they quickly slid inside her with almost no resistance now.



“Okay, well that’s definitely a new development.” she said to herself.



‘Jesus I hope it’s not gonna stay that way.’ she thought then as she began to work the soap between her legs vigorously.



There was no way that a simple bar of soap was going to fix her or wash the whole experience away, but that was fine by her.



To Grace it felt like she had just discovered a whole new world of feeling and emotion. She didn’t want to forget anything, just the opposite. She now found herself wanting more.



Visions, flashbacks and vivid emotions.



A feeling of being cradled by male flesh and then being violated by it.



A musky scent in the air. The friction of bodies in front and behind.



Stretching. Penetrating.



The flesh of another deep inside her. Fingers in her mouth.



Animalistic grunts. Pounding. Screaming…………..Climaxing.



Those images and thoughts continued to randomly assault her senses.



Blurred daydreams passed in and out of her mind as the soothing hot water continued to slide down her body. A gentle caress of water that was almost heavenly.



In Grace’s own confused mind a phantom vision of Jasmine Parks seemed to suddenly waft out of the steam in front of her.



She stood there in that same red dress, unaffected by the heat and moisture.



This ethereal Jasmine was clearly very different from the real woman. She was an idealised version. A construct of Grace’s overwhelmed mind.



“You’re smart enough to know I did this to you for a reason.” The phantom Jasmine said in the very same manner that her real counterpart had said only minutes before.



“To teach me a lesson. To make me your dirty little whore.” Grace replied out loud into the steam and mist.



“And you want that very much now don’t you?” Jasmine said using words drawn not from reality this time, but from the mind of Grace herself.”



“Yes” she answered simply before taking it even further. “I will be a good little whore for you.”



Sometimes all it takes is one extreme experience to change someone’s life.



In the case of Grace English that experience and the change it brought about was so profound that her life would probably never be the same again.



Unknown emotions had been set on fire. New pathways to feeling had been discovered.



Her days as a lonely, over-worked and sexually repressed woman were about to come to a startling end.



There was more to it all of course. Some kind of primal trigger had been hit deep inside Grace English.



The ability to be in total control of every situation had been the very basis upon which she had built her success. Nobody had ever managed to outsmart her or get the better of her.



She had even controlled Jasmine Parks when they had first met two months ago, although back then the setting had been a very different one.



Grace was in her natural element then.



She had successfully prosecuted Jasmine Parks on all four counts of prostitution.



Miss Parks however, was no lowly street walker and her services were not cheap either. A beautiful, manipulative woman with a very rich clientele, she had scammed and slept her way through some of the most powerful men in the city.



The next time those two women would meet would be under very different circumstances.



Grace would not be in her natural element at all then. She would be blindfolded, nervous and vulnerable, and this time, Jasmine Parks would be ready.



Jasmine had quickly and effortlessly taken control of Grace then, and once she had that control, she never let it go for one second.



She manipulated Grace and turned her into a victim of her own desires. She teased and caressed and led her into an experience that was much more raw and violent than anything she had ever considered.



The original presentation of the beautiful and successful Grace English being ‘pleasured’ by three men was soon replaced by something more pleasing to Jasmine Parks.



At Grace’s own request, the stunned audience instead witnessed the spectacular loss of her anal virginity to nine inches of thick, throbbing cock.



They then bore witness to one of the most intense, and even brutal acts of double penetration as two big men pounded both of her holes from the front and back.

The tiny frame of Grace English had convulsed and shuddered as the two men continued to violate her.



The audience had marvelled as she screamed obscenities and moaned as she begged for more.



And all the while Jasmine Parks had been there, watching, smiling and pulling the strings.



Everyone saw the way that Grace had obeyed her without question and had actually begged to become Jasmine’s little whore as events were intensified.



It was in fact a masterful display of control and manipulation on the part of Jasmine Parks and even Grace herself knew it.



So often she would hear the soothing nurturing voice of Jasmine whispering into her ear.



Intense, raw and degrading instructions delivered in a soft, almost poetic way as if they had just been pulled straight out of a romance novel.



She somehow made all those extreme, almost brutal acts sound breathtaking and beautiful.



On a very deep level Grace knew all too well what Jasmine was doing, but the feelings and emotions being triggered by what she was hearing were unlike any she had ever experienced before.



Grace remembered being so afraid when, at Jasmine’s insistence, she had told everyone present that she wanted ‘the one with the biggest dick fuck her in the ass.’ But…..there had been so much more to it than that.



That was the most raw and explicit thing she had ever said in her life. That same fear just seemed to light a fire deep inside her as base lust began to dictate her every action.



Grace was not in control of anything anymore and to her that felt wonderful.



Jasmine had turned her into a lowly whore. She had also turned Grace into something she had never been before. An object of desire.







She recalled the moment when Tara Morgane had actually spoken up and tried to get the ‘presentation’ back on track. It was the one moment when Grace could have stopped it all from happening.



She had been particularly proud of herself at that moment.



It was a test of her will. A test that she had passed.



Despite Tara’s initial shock and concern it soon became apparent to Grace that even the solid and dependable Miss Morgane had fallen under the same spell.



As things began escalate even more, the expression on Tara’s face also began to change from concern to intense arousal.



Tara Morgane did things then that Grace knew she would get in real trouble for, but to Grace that lapse in control had meant a lot.



It told her that what was happening was exceptional and not just for her either. Others saw it and felt it too.



Grace vividly recalled the moment when she looked up from her own powerful orgasm to see the prim and proper Tara Morgane screaming like a banshee with the hand of Valhalla’s newest member buried deep in her crotch.



It was a moment that seemed to just magnify her own orgasm even more.



Grace stepped out of the shower then and after towelling herself off walked back into that simple but elegant room.



The fresh new blue skirt-suit that she had brought with her was laid neatly on the bed as was the very expensive French lingerie set she had bought for herself only yesterday.



Grace English had thought about and prepared for this night in such minute detail that even the type of underwear she wore had been symbolic in some way.



During her presentation she wore a simple but beautiful white lace thong and a sheer white bra to match (at least she had worn them until they were torn from her body).



The colour white was important. She wanted to appear sexy and yet innocent at the same time, almost as if to communicate that underneath that serious blue suit there was a pure little virgin waiting to be ravished.



Perhaps she had read too many romance novels, but hey, this was her big night and she wanted it to be perfect in every way.



In an odd sort of way her harsh treatment at the hands of Jasmine Parks had made that innocent little virgin routine a virtual reality. Compared to the rest of those people on that stage Grace had appeared about as virginal as it was possible to be in those early stages.



A pure white lamb set upon by wolves. An innocent victim of her own curiosity.



The French lingerie set that had been laid out for her now was supposed to be a subtle hint at her own ‘de-flowering’ that only she would know about. This time the colour black was used as a symbol.



Black stockings with matching garter straps.



A risqué pair of french-cut panties and a nice little see-through push-up bra.



Despite her small frame Grace had never needed any kind of help before in accentuating her breasts, if anything she actually felt that they were perhaps a little too large for the size of her body.



She had always used clothes and conservative bras to ‘de-emphasise’ them in the past.



To her, even the simple act of wearing a cleavage enhancing push-up bra was a bold statement all by itself.



When Grace had prepared for, and dreamed about that night, every gesture and action had seemed significant. Even the smallest of details somehow felt vitally important on some level.



In her elaborate, highly detailed fantasies she had imagined herself being virtually reborn after the night of her Valhalla ‘presentation’.



The new Grace would be a sexually empowered woman with dual identities.



She would present the serious and successful image of ‘Grace English, successful lawyer’ to the world as she went about her business dressed in one of her many ‘trade-mark’ blue skirt-suits.



But……Underneath that calm, professional exterior would be the body and soul of a ‘vixen’ wearing explicit lingerie and scented with provocative perfumes.



She would be a woman at peace with her own sexuality, with the confidence to use it when the right opportunity came along.



At least that’s how the script of her life was supposed to read.



‘Vixen’ had been the identity and the mindset that Grace had most wanted to adopt after her planned public adventure with those men. But..the actions of Jasmine Parks and those three men had changed all of that for her.



The term ‘whore’ seemed much more fitting to her now and the more she thought about that word, the more she fell in love with her new title.



‘Vixen’ was a word and an idea that the old, lonely and sexually frustrated Grace had come up with to describe the woman she wanted to be.



The new Grace suddenly had a different perspective on life.



To a woman who had just been blindfolded, manipulated and then begged to be ‘Gang-fucked’ by three men, the phrase ‘dirty little whore’ seemed much more fitting.



Even just saying those words sent beautiful little shivers down her spine now.



Grace examined the selection of perfumes and cosmetics that had been laid out for her. After a few moments she picked out an expensive bottle of Jean Paul Gaultier perfume.



She didn’t spray the perfume directly onto her skin as she usually did. She instead sprayed a large amount of it into the air in front of her before walking into that scented mist and letting the fine droplets lightly coat her skin.



She remembered reading somewhere years ago that this was the best way to lightly apply any scent to your entire body. In the past she had always considered that method too wasteful, but this new Grace simply didn’t seem to give a damn about such considerations.



She just felt like squeezing all of the juice out of life that she could now.



No guilt, no shame, just the pursuit of intense emotion and feeling.



She almost made a ritual out of the process as she slowly slid on the tiny French panties. She shimmied her hips from side to side turning that simple act into something that felt beautiful and sexually charged.



It was a sensual little move that she had seen in a movie once, but that had been way, way back when she was in college. Back then the hottest thing that Grace had ever seen a girl do on-screen was in a movie called ‘Out Of Sight’. She just loved the way that Jenifer Lopez had sexily shimmied out of her skirt just before jumping into bed with a then very young and handsome George Clooney.



Up until now she never thought she could have pulled that move off without looking silly, but to her own surprise it had felt so very sensual and effortless.



She rolled a pair of black silk stockings slowly up her toned legs then. They sheathed each leg in tight black lace all the way up to her upper thighs before tapering into two thin garter straps on each side. She delicately attached the garter straps to the little ornate buttons on the waist-band of the matching French-cut panties.



Grace then carefully put her arms through the shoulder straps of a very sheer and see-through black push-up bra.



Only then did she become aware of an interesting little side-effect that the intense teasing of Jasmine Parks had had on one part of her body.



Jasmine’s idea of foreplay had been to take a very sharp knife and use the blade of it to rake at Grace’s nipples through the fabric her white lace bra.



The intensity and the danger of that moment had felt incredible to the comparatively innocent Grace English then.



Cruel, uncontrollable and electric jolts of sensation mixed with fear.



The result of this teasing was that her nipples were now raw, very sensitive and constantly erect.



She reached behind her back and fastened the sheer bra in place.



For the first time she went and stood in front of the full length mirror on the wall.



“Oh my god.” Grace said out loud then.



Her heart pounded and overwhelming happiness erupted from somewhere deep inside her.



She gazed with excitement at the reflection of a woman that was beautiful and yet dirty in all the ways that she never thought she could ever be……until now.



She saw a woman dressed in shiny black stilettos and explicit, revealing lingerie.



She saw the thin fabric of a push-up bra being stretched unusually tight as it struggled to contain a beautiful pair of large breasts.



Sensitive, erect nipples strained and pushed against the translucent black mesh fabric.



Her damp auburn hair framed a beautiful oval shaped face that was familiar but wore an expression she had never seen before. An indefinable mix of raw emotions.



“Such a pretty little whore.” Grace said aloud to her own reflection.



Her own hands and fingers began to roam over her body then.



She watched the woman in the mirror react to that soft touch. She saw how she gasped as fingers teased her sensitive nipples and then how she moaned when those same fingers crept slowly down her belly and toward her crotch.



It was the first time in her life that Grace had been able to look into a mirror and truly love what she saw. She saw a woman filled with lust and promise. A woman to whom anything was possible.



She lingered in front of the mirror for a few more moments before finally snapping out of her daze.



Grace seemed to switch into a kind of ‘auto-pilot’ then as some of her old instincts took over and she went about the business of making herself look immaculate.



She swiftly tied her shoulder length hair up and pinned it before carefully applying make-up.



Last of all, she put on the serious but extremely well cut skirt-suit and blouse.



Aside from her breasts sitting up and looking unusually big, there was no hint at all of the sexy black lingerie hidden underneath.



She would look like the same old ‘Grace English’ to anyone who saw her.



Unless they had been to her ‘presentation’ and seen what she had just done, nobody could possibly have guessed that the Grace underneath those clothes was now different on almost every level.



There was no way of knowing that she was not the woman they used to know.



She almost jumped with fright when she heard a sharp knock at the door.



She was not at all surprised when she opened it to see Tara Morgane accompanied by Alan Shaw, Valhalla’s newest member.



It had been obvious even when she had first met Mr Shaw in the reception room that he had been totally enamoured with the beautiful and intelligent Miss Morgane.



Tara had clearly also responded very favourably to Mr Shaw. In fact after seeing how Tara had behaved only minutes before, saying that she had simply just responded favourably was a massive understatement.



“Are you ready to face the world Grace?” Tara said smiling.



Grace English knew it was time to face everyone in the reception room. They would all be waiting for her to make an appearance.



Deep down she knew what they would all be saying about her right now. The men would leer and the women would be spouting words like ‘slut’ behind her back.



‘Fuck all of them!’ She thought to herself defiantly.



“I’m ready.” Grace replied simply then.



She exited the room then and walked quietly down the corridor towards a set of familiar double doors. Tara and Alan walked silently beside her.



Grace took a deep breath and then stopped in front of those doors. The reception room was on the other side.



If anyone would know what Grace was feeling surely it would be Tara. She had been in that room, living that experience with her. She saw it all and had clearly felt it too.



“I’m not ashamed of what I am. You have no idea how free I feel now.” She said to Tara then.



Tara Morgane just responded in the most exceptional of ways. What she said then let Grace know that she really did have a deep understanding of what was happening.



“Tell us what the great Grace English has become.?” Tara said mimicking the very words Jasmine Parks had used earlier.



“A dirty, filthy little whore.” Grace replied with more than a hint of pride in her voice.



They smiled at each other then.



Both of them had been deeply altered by what had happened in that room that night but……. both of them were also much happier than they had been in a very long time.



Grace entered the reception room closely followed by Tara and Alan.



They were greeted by a deafening silence.



A room of countless faces stared at Grace and all she could do was just stare back defiantly.



‘I’m not ashamed of what I am’, she thought then as she reiterated in her mind the words she had said to Tara Morgane only moments earlier.



She just stood her ground and prepared herself for all the disgusted looks and insulting comments that she knew would surely follow.



She only hoped that they would all have the decency to say those things to her face.



When the room erupted into applause Grace grew confused for a moment.



As it continued and she realised their reaction was genuine, a fragile smile spread across her face.



She stood there dumbfounded as she searched her mind for an appropriate thought or gesture only to find that she was too stunned to react.



The applause turned to cheers and not just from the men either.



She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Tara’s voice whisper in her ear…..



“This is for you Grace. They are all cheering for you.”







She had felt incredible then.



She was the centre of attention.



She was the prom queen standing in front of her graduating class as they applauded.



The next twenty minutes was a blur of faces all cramming to talk to Grace English, the star of the most sexually intense act any of them had ever seen.



It actually took Grace a few minutes to work her way across the room to where Tara and Alan Shaw sat talking.



“I think they liked your presentation Miss English.” Tara said smiling.



“You know I think I really should thank you for that ‘fun little surprise’ you arranged for me.” Grace Replied.



A troubled look spread across Tara’s face then. There was a hint of reluctance in her voice as she began to speak.



“Listen Grace I should tell you that Jasmine Parks and her three associates have already been escorted off the premises. She requested to speak with you but naturally I turned her down.”



“You threw them out?” Grace said unable to hide her surprise.



“Oh no Grace no. Nothing like that. It’s just forbidden for temporary ‘associates’ to enter the reception room and fraternise with members. Don’t worry, they were paid very well and I even gave them a bonus for doing such an amazing job.”



Grace thought for a moment.



In truth she was actually bitterly disappointed that she had missed out on seeing Jasmine and those men one last time.



“Maybe I should hear what she has to say. Do you have any contact details for Jasmine?” She asked then.



The face of Tara Morgane suddenly took on an almost pained expression. She stared directly into Grace’s eyes as she began to speak in a deliberate and serious tone.



“The answer is no Grace…..Just no.”



Tara paused. She seemed to be reaching for the right response but the words were clearly not coming easily.



“I know something amazing happened to you tonight. I know because I felt it too………but let’s not kid ourselves, it could have gone very, very wrong.”



Grace knew that Tara was right but that very fact just seemed to be fanning those flames inside her even more now.



As Tara went on, each word only seemed to be making matters worse and adding to that fire.



“If you hadn’t have been in a secure environment like Valhalla there’s no telling what Jasmine might have done to you.”



Those words just seemed to resonate then inside the mind of Grace English



‘Oh God’ She immediately thought to herself ‘………all the things they would have done to me if they had me alone.’ It was a realisation that should have filled her with fear, but instead had the opposite effect.



It began to fill her with an unstoppable desire.



On top of all that, Grace had never seen Tara look so serious. She wasn’t her normal, controlled self at all now. She had clearly been more than a little shaken by what had taken place earlier.



“Look Grace…I didn’t mean to…..but…..but I put you in a lot of danger tonight, and I really should be apologising for that mistake.”



“No Tara……This has been the best night of my life. I never want to hear you apologise for what happened.”



“Listen I’m just looking out for you Grace. You’re not just a member to me. You’re a good friend.” Tara said with real warmth in her voice then.



The two women smiled at each other once more.



It was clear that even if she had the details on her, Tara Morgane was never going to give Grace a phone number or any way to contact Jasmine Parks. Maybe Tara was even right not to.



She could have gone home then but she didn’t. Maybe saying that she couldn’t would be more accurate.



Too much to think about.



Too much to process.



Instead Grace English stayed at Valhalla for a while and just soaked up her new fame and notoriety.



This night had been a long time in coming and she was in no hurry for it to end just yet.



She noticed that Tara and Alan Shaw seemed to be content to just talk enthusiastically in one of the private booths for most of the night.



That was a pleasing development. Tara clearly needed someone in her life and Alan Shaw seemed to be a perfect catch. Hell if Tara hadn’t snagged him first she would probably have been the one flirting with him right now.







“What time is it?” Grace asked Jackie, the pretty blonde who worked behind the bar.



“It’s going on midnight Miss English. Oh by the way I have your belongings here in this bag if you would like to collect them now.”



“Belongings?” Grace questioned.



“Well….clothes, at least what’s left of them.” Jackie replied handing her a gift bag.



Grace reached inside the bag and pulled out a wide piece of blue cloth.



She realised straight away that it was the very expensive skirt she had been wearing earlier. Well…at least it ‘was’ a skirt before it had been cut up the middle and then sliced clean in two with a knife.



Next she fished out her ripped bra and panties.



Last, but by no means least, was her blouse and jacket. Aside from the fact that all the buttons had been cut off, the blouse and Jacket looked almost undamaged.

Grace noticed something subtly different about her jacket right away. The outer pocket on the left hand side had been pulled inside out.



Curious.



When she instinctively reached into the corresponding right side pocket she felt the stiff edge of something inside.



A rectangular strip of cardboard…..most probably a business card of some kind.



Grace removed the card and was puzzled by what she saw.



It was an old dry-cleaning ticket that clearly wasn’t hers.



She flipped the card over and within seconds her blood ran cold.



Grace felt a mixture of fear and excitement build inside her almost immediately.



A short note had been scrawled on the back of that ticket.



It was a note from Jasmine Parks.



‘It’s not over pretty girl. I know you want more. Be at the corner of Columbus and Elm. Be there no later than 12.30am. JP’



“Jackie call me a cab now…I have to go.” Grace said suddenly without thinking.



“I can get a limo for you much faster Miss…”



Grace cut her off in mid sentence then.



“No I need a cab and I need it out front now.”



The stunned Jackie made the call.



There were more than a few puzzled looks as everyone in the Valhalla club saw Grace English suddenly stand up from the bar and then make a hasty exit.



“Is anything wrong Grace?” Tara Morgane had even asked then.



“Nothing…just…just need to get home.” she had replied unconvincingly.



A couple of minutes later Grace found herself standing in front of the now very deserted looking Forsythe building.



Grace knew that her reaction to Jasmine’s note was perhaps rushed and ill advised but it was just all so exciting. Like something out of a movie, but it was real and she was it the centre of it.



Jackie was right, taking the limo would have been much faster, but there would have just been too many questions to answer.



It wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to figure out that Grace had something very risky in mind. The driver would most likely have turned around and driven her right back to the club as soon as he had put two and two together.



A heavy rain had fallen in the three hours that Grace had been in the club and the streets just seemed to glisten as if the whole city had been given a coat of varnish.



The cab arrived a few minutes later and Grace Jumped in the back.



“Corner of Columbus and Elm and make it fast please driver. If you can get me there by 12.30 I’ll give you an extra hundred.”



There’s nothing quite as fast as a cab driver motivated by money.



It was a journey that should have taken at least twenty-five minutes.



What it turned into was a fifteen minute drag race.



Grace still hadn’t paused even once to consider any of what she was doing or even the possible consequences of her actions.



She just wasn’t ready for the best night she could remember to end just yet.



She had already experienced the most intense and perhaps even the most violent sexual experience of her life already that night.



Her own reaction to that experience had turned into something of a revelation to her.



Feeling the fear, knowing the danger.



Not wanting it to stop.



Intoxicating.



If anything, what she was doing right now was maybe the most dangerous and reckless thing so far. Her every choice seemed to contain an element of danger. That fact alone was exhilarating and even arousing to the usually cautious and calculating Grace English.



The driver pulled up at the intersection at exactly 12.29am and a triumphant Grace leapt out of the cab and onto the side-walk.



Her heart still pounded in her chest and the adrenaline still coursed through her veins.



Only after the cab had pulled away did she actually take a good look at her surroundings.



The past fifteen minutes had been a blur of speed and excitement as she had raced across town to meet that 12.30am deadline.



Well she had made it alright, but only just. As the seconds passed and her heart-rate began to slow, she immediately began to notice a few alarming things about her current situation.



The corner of Columbus and Elm was a bad place to be at night. It was in a deserted, run-down and very old part of town.



Between each building dark and deserted alleys ran off in almost every direction.



The place was empty. Not another soul could be seen walking on either sidewalk.



Grace wore no coat, only the blue skirt-suit she had put on little more than an hour ago.



She stood silently for almost a minute as the darkness and cold of that place began to close in on her.



“This was a very bad idea.” Grace finally said out loud then.



“You’re probably right……..and yet here you are.” A familiar voice echoed in response from somewhere in the darkness.



Grace spun around and peered into one of the murky alleys behind her. The light from the street only penetrated a few yards into that alley and beyond was just an inky blackness.



Grace heard that familiar staccato clip-clop of high-heeled shoes on concrete.



The figure of Jasmine Parks emerged into the light in front of her. She still wore that same red dress but had now draped an expensive looking fur-lined coat over her shoulders.



“I was beginning to think you didn’t get my note, but then again, anal little bitches like you always check their pockets don’t they.”



Her tone wasn’t harsh or threatening. Somehow every word had an alluring quality that was almost mesmerising.



Grace couldn’t find any words in reply.



She froze as a sense of panic washed over her.



The reality of her situation suddenly hit hard and she felt herself begin to tremble.



Jasmine was pretty in all the ways that Grace had always wanted to be.



Blonde, blue eyes with a slim but curvaceous body. She had envied those looks right from the very first moment she had first seen Jasmine.



It was almost a sad indictment on Grace that she could always see the beauty in others but never in herself.



Tonight had been the first night in her life when she had been able to look at her own reflection in a mirror and not see a collection of flaws, but a beautiful, desirable woman.



“Cat got your tongue huh?” Jasmine said with a smile.



“No.” Grace replied almost feebly.



“She speaks! It’s a miracle!” Jasmine countered sarcastically.



Once more it felt to Grace like Jasmine had effortlessly taken control of the situation and of her. The very idea of that was scary and unnerving to a woman who had made a living out of controlling what others thought and did.



To make matters worse she was not in a nice safe courtroom or even inside the protective walls of the Valhalla club anymore. She was on a dark, deserted street corner with a woman who’s explicit intent toward Grace had been made very clear only hours before.



“Become quite the risk taker now haven’t we.” Jasmine teased.



“You wanted to talk to me?” Grace said nervously then. It wasn’t much of a reply, but it was the best she could come up with.



“My little note said nothing about talking.” Jasmine replied before adding “You can follow me…..or not…..it’s up to you.”



She then turned her back on Grace and disappeared back into the darkness of the alley. Once more she heard the Jasmine’s heels tapping out a rhythm as she heard her walking away.



“Well are you coming or not?” that familiar voice echoed back at her from the darkness.



The sound of those heels continued to trail off into the distance.



Grace paused for a long time then. She was under no illusions that following her into that alley was reckless and stupid.



Knowing that didn’t seem to make a difference anymore. Stopping now just wouldn’t make any sense, not after all that she had been through already.



“Please wait!…I’m coming!” Grace called out before walking forward and plunging into the darkness.



That inky blackness closed in on Grace as her eyes struggled to adjust to the light.



“Keep moving pretty girl….just follow the sound of my voice and you’ll get there just fine.” Jasmine called out.



Grace blindly stumbled on. Fear grew with each step now as she soon realised that her sense of direction had left her.



Suddenly Grace was blinded as a powerful flash-light shone directly into her eyes.



“You can stop right there for a moment baby.” Jasmine instructed.



Grace froze as the beam of light was concentrated on her face.



She heard the voice of Jasmine once more, only this time she wasn’t speaking to Grace at all.



“I told you she’d come. The little whore’s gotta taste for it now.”



“I didn’t doubt it for a second” A raspy male voice replied.



“Oh fuck….w-who’s that with you…” Grace stammered in fear as the shock of hearing another voice hit her like an electric charge.



“Now just take a couple more steps toward the light baby girl. You’re almost there.” Jasmine instructed calmly.



Grace stumbled on with that blinding light in her eyes.



For the first time she was able to see the faint silhouette of Jasmine as she held that flash-light in her hand, but there was something else she could see now too, something much more shocking.



She could see the unmistakable silhouettes of at least two men standing beside Jasmine.



“You’ve arrived honey…Such an obedient little girl…Are you scared yet?” Jasmine asked.



“More than scared.” Grace confessed.



“But the fear is gettin you off in ways you never imagined isn’t it little one. Tell Jasmine the truth now baby.”



Grace thought for a few moments as she considered just how much of herself she was going to share. It only took her a second to decide to bear all and tell her the truth.



“It turns me on…..real bad…can’t stop it…..it makes me want to do things.”



“Holy shit! You’re telling me that this filthy little bitch is really a high priced lawyer?”



Grace heard another deep male voice say.



“Yeah, and a fucking good one too. She put me away for two months.” Jasmine replied.



One of the men spoke directly to Grace then. “Lady if all that’s true and you followed Jasmine down here hoping for a little bit of ‘kissy-face’, then you must be the dumbest bitch I’ve ever met.”



“Show some fucking respect Asshole!” Jasmine spat back at the man before continuing. “Little Grace here isn’t stupid. She just can’t help being a dirty little slut is all. Ain’t that right pretty girl.”



“Yes Jasmine….I….I’m just a dirty little slut.” Grace replied obediently. Those words seemed to flow out of her so naturally and easily that it was almost shocking.



“Jesus H Christ let’s get to fucking this one right now. She’s ready to pop!” One of the men replied immediately.



“NO!” The stern voice of Jasmine Parks rang out then stopping all the males dead in their tracks.



“The little bitch is mine. Everything goes down exactly the way I say. If you behave then all four of you will get a nice little piece of lawyer pussy tonight.”



“Oh god……” Grace said simply.



“Want me to hit the lights?” one of the men said then.



“Nah not just yet. Baby girl’s gonna give us a little show by flash-light before she gets to see it all.” Jasmine said before turning her attention to the trembling Grace.



“I’m sure you just heard how I protected you. How I stopped them from doing whatever they wanted.”



“Yes……….th-thank-you Jasmine.”



“Well baby, you see it’s like this. You aren’t in your little boys and girls rich club now. You’re in a very bad situation and I’m afraid you’re gonna have to fuck your way out of it. Understand?”



Grace’s whole demeanour changed then as the situation suddenly became far more real than she could have ever imagined.



“Oh god Jasmine…..Look I really am fucking scared now….don’t let them hurt me…please you have to help. I didn’t have to come here!”



“Bitch just don’t even pull that shit….I am helping you. I know you’re scared as hell…you should be… but that’s not stopping you from creaming your little panties right now is it?”



Grace didn’t answer.



“I know what’s going on inside your head baby,” Jasmine Parks said softly before continuing, “What we did to you…..No…let me put it differently……What ‘I’ did to you in that club of yours just opened up a whole bunch of doors inside you didn’t it.”



It was disturbing to Grace just how effortlessly she seemed to be reading her. It was as if her mind was transparent.



But it was even deeper than that…almost as if those thoughts had been put there by Jasmine herself.



“I….I…” Grace stammered.



She didn’t know what t say. Everything that Jasmine had said was true. She seemed to know things instinctively about Grace that nobody else knew.



She fell silent.



Grace’s lack of response clearly didn’t go down at all well then.



“Oh for fuck’s sake! Just keep the beam on her face will ya.” Jasmine said sternly to one of the male silhouettes as she handed him the flash-light. He immediately focussed the blinding beam of light into the eyes of the terrified woman.



Grace saw the darkened outline of Jasmine approach her. She just walked straight up to her then and without missing a beat reached behind her head and grabbed a fistful of hair.



“Spread your legs and don’t you say a fucking word till I tell you to!” She ordered.



The shaking Grace English used tiny steps to widen her stance.



She whimpered and then bit down on her lower lip in shock when she felt Jasmine’s right hand reach under her skirt and then drive up hard between her legs.



Her pelvis bucked involuntarily as she felt fingers grinding hard circles into the crotch of her French panties.



“Oh you’re wearing something slutty under those clothes aren’t you baby. I can feel it.” Jasmine teased.



Grace just continued to whimper and moan in shocked reply.



Jasmine suddenly withdrew her fingers and examined them before thrusting them underneath Grace’s nose.



“Tell me what you smell.” Jasmine ordered.



“I……I can smell myself.”



Jasmine seemed to grow impatient then. She thrust her had up hard into Grace’s crotch once more and began to virtually yell at her startled victim.



“I don’t have time for this ‘romance novel’ bullshit!” She said as she vigorously worked her fingers into Grace’s crotch for a few more seconds before stopping suddenly.



Grace tried to moan then only to feel Jasmine’s wet fingers being thrust into her mouth.



“What can you taste on my fingers you dirty little whore!”



Grace English seemed to suddenly ‘get with the program’ then and when the fingers were removed from her mouth her answer suddenly became a lot more explicit.



“I can taste my wet little cunt on them.” She panted.



“You see?…..The little bitch just needed some motivation.” Jasmine said to the men as she abruptly walked away from Grace and then stood beside them once more.



“Shit girl…how’d you get so good at that?” One of the men asked Jasmine.



“Oh that’s simple.” She paused for a few moments making sure Grace heard her next words clearly. “Because I used to be exactly like her.”



To Grace here was something profound and almost comforting in those words.



“Unless you want a second business suit ruined in one night I suggest you start stripping for us right now Miss English. Oh and make sure you give the boys a good show.” Jasmine instructed.



Grace didn’t protest or say a word then, she simply reached down and began to slowly undo the buttons of her jacket.



The beam of the flash-light began to roam up and down her body almost like a spot-light as she moved.



She wiggled just a little as she shrugged the jacket past her shoulders and to the ground.



She stood for a moment in just her skirt and blouse and for the first time gave a faint little smile.



“You’ve been thinking about being a nasty little whore for a long time haven’t you.” Jasmine said to her.



“Some nights it’s all I think about.” Grace replied nervously as she slowly pulled her white blouse free from the waist-band of her skirt.



It was then that a kind of subtle shift in Grace occurred as she became aware of the raw lust that was being directed at her from almost every direction.



Searching eyes devoured her every move as she slowly undid each button on her blouse and then let it fall to the ground.



They were all greeted by the sight of her huge cleavage only barely being contained by a sheer push-up bra. The tiny over-burdened shoulder straps looked ready to snap at any moment.



Her sensitive and constantly erected nipples seemed to push and strain at that tiny bra adding even more tension.



“Holy God!” One of the men exclaimed.



Grace actually began to gain an awareness of her own power then.



Suddenly words began to form in her mind. Within seconds those words just seemed to roll out of her mouth with a natural ease.



“Please don’t hurt me too bad. I’ll be a good little whore for all of you.” She said in an almost child-like way as she undid the waist-band of her skirt and then shimmied her hips in that sensual way until it fell to her ankles.



Grace now stood before them in that sexy black lingerie and push-up bra that she had made such a ritual of putting on earlier.



There was a very long silence then. Suddenly a couple of dim overhead lights flickered into life and for the first time Grace saw those men and where she actually was.



She recognised two of the men straight away. They had been two thirds of the team that had fucked her so vigorously at the Valhalla club earlier that night.



The other two were young and similarly athletic.



They all now stood in an old and dirty yard where four alleys had converged into a single square area.



Grime filled trash cans and plastic wheelie bins were arranged into clusters all around them.



It was just a shitty and forgotten space behind four old buildings that had been turned into some kind of garbage depot.



“I hope you like it. I figured this place was perfect for a slutty piece of trash like you.” Jasmine said with a smile.



She walked slowly toward Grace then and whispered quietly into her ear.



They were carefully chosen words that only Grace was intended to hear.



“Barring some kind of miracle I’d say you have about thirty seconds before these men start fucking the shit out of you. Once they get a sniff of pussy they won’t care if you’re moaning like a whore or crying out for help, they’re just gonna keep fucking you just the same…..Even I can’t stop that now.”



Intense fear tore through Grace then as those words hit home and she realised that even Jasmine Parks was now powerless to control it all.



“Please Jasmine….please say you’ll help me if things get bad….this was kinda fun a few minutes ago but I’m just so fuckin scared now.”



Jasmine became serious and cold then.



“Remember that this is what you’ve always wanted pretty girl. I can’t lie to you about it, I just wanted to watch you become a dirty little whore for me, but none of this is about hurting you.”



“Then what is it about?”



Jasmine paused in thought for a few moments before answering.



“It’s about setting you free. It’s about understanding that if you play this right, you’ll control them. It’s about taking all the pleasure from them that they can give.”



“Please…just tell me what to do!” Grace pleaded then.



Jasmine’s reply was immediate.



“Be vocal…..lead them….be dirtier than they are and become the filthy little whore they want you to be. Believe it or not I kinda respect you for showing up after what we did to you earlier. That tells me that there’s a big part of you that wants this real bad….give them what they want, but take from them what you want too.”



Jasmines words seemed to echo back and forth in Grace’s mind as she struggled to come to terms with it all. Jasmine had actually made a lot of sense.



Grace just needed to be dirtier and filthier than those four men.



She needed to establish that fact quickly and then try to lead them from there.

The way to do that was frightening but surprisingly simple. She could either wait for those men to do what-ever they wanted, or she could get in first and beat them to the punch.



Like almost every other situation in her life, Grace decided to get in the first shot.



“I want a couple of big guys to push me over those dirty garbage bins and take me right fuckin now!” She announced nervously. Those words had sounded strange and almost alien to her as they came out of her own mouth…but…there was a dark anticipation that accompanied them too.



The four men just blinked and stared at each other in surprise before one of them finally took the lead.



“So little miss lawyer has come to play has she?” One of the dark haired athletic men said. Grace recognised him right away as the second man who had fucked her during that vigorous ‘double penetration’ session at Valhalla.



“I’m not a lawyer right now.” Grace tried to reply playfully.



The man just smiled in an odd sort of way.



She felt a sudden surge of confidence when she saw him react with amusement and a hint of surprise.



‘Christ Jasmine was right!’ Grace thought to herself in amazement. ‘I really can do this…just gotta be smarter than them.’



Grace knew that she had just placed herself in the worst kind of danger.



A situation that was just about every woman’s worst nightmare.



But…….. she also found to her surprise, that she felt far from helpless. Thanks to Jasmine Parks, she even had a plan now.



She would use that situation and those men. She would take the lead and control them all for her own pleasure.



The very thought that she had the strength to do that felt empowering and arousing in ways she had never known before.



The next sentence out of her mouth threw all of the men off guard. Even Jasmine Parks almost tripped on her own heels.



Grace just smiled as, for the first time in her life, she finally let the contents of her sexually repressed mind run free.



“Tell me……” She said to the man approaching her, “…….could you feel that other guy’s big, hard dick inside my ass when you fucked my pussy? I bet you could. I bet it felt really nice.”



“Bitch that is the nastiest shit I’ve ever heard come out of the mouth of any woman!” He said, clearly taken back by what she had said.



“But you could feel it inside me couldn’t you…..” Grace pressed. “I really want to know.”



“Yeah lady. It felt like there was a party was going on in there. I also seem to remember you loving every second of that shit.”



Grace was able to smile in triumph at the stunned Jasmine Parks for only a split second before the man spun her around and pushed her forward. Moments later her upper body was bent over and then sprawled face down across the cold metal top of a small garbage dumpster.



A raw, sickly sweet sensation grew in the pit of her stomach as fear mixed with excitement.



She felt the presence of a dark, forbidden desire that was growing and multiplying with every second.



A strange, random memory of her childhood flashed into Grace’s mind quite suddenly.



The recollection of a scared, seven year-old little girl waiting nervously for her big moment before stepping on-stage in her school’s second grade nativity play.



She recalled how that tiny little girl had been so sick with nerves that she had wanted to throw up.



Thoughts of running away had flashed through the mind of little Grace then, but that’s not what had happened.



That brave little girl had walked on-stage in front of hundreds of people as if it had been nothing.



She had felt a sense of happiness and validation that she had never known before when it was all over.



They had all stood up and applauded at the end of that play. It was the greatest moment of a very young girl’s life.



It was a feeling that grace had tried so hard to replicate over and over during her adult life.



Nothing else had come close to that moment until tonight.



When all those people in the Valhalla reception room had cheered and applauded for her earlier, it had been one of the happiest moments of her adult life.



It was as if she had become the little seven year old Grace one more time.







Twenty-five years later the now thirty-two year old Grace once more felt like throwing up as the fear and excitement of what she was doing became almost too much to bear.



A delicious feeling of stage fright mixed with a very real sense of danger.



It was now the second time that night that she had felt like that.



Her high-heeled shoes only barely touched the ground.



She struggled to keep her balance as the man behind her began to kick her feet apart even further.



A collection of simple sensations flooded her brain then.



Every movement seemed to be drawn out and perceived with a blinding intensity.



It was almost as if she was watching everything happening in front of her on a high definition screen with the colour turned up way too high.



Each second stretching out as if time itself had begun to slow down.



Senses becoming aware of things she had never noticed before.



The smell of fresh rain.



The cold water on top of the dumpster soaking through her bra.



The friction of that rusty metal against her skin being lubricated and made smooth by water and dirt.



There was beauty in it all.



The raw lust that she felt in her soul suddenly made everything around her make sense.



It was all so perfect.



This was what she had dreamed about for so long but never had the courage to do something about.



There wasn’t going to be any half naked ‘Calvin Klein’ models making love to her on a bed of pristine silk sheets.



Instead, she was about to get fucked hard in a dirty, dark alley by four strong men. She would be their ‘little whore’ for the evening and Jasmine Parks would no doubt get off on watching her suffer.



Grace even wanted her to.



“Are you gonna masturbate while they fuck me?” Grace suddenly asked Jasmine as she looked up.



Jasmine Parks didn’t reply at first. She seemed stunned by the sheer audacity of the question.



“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you….but…what makes you think I’m going to enjoy seeing you get fucked hmm? What makes you so special?” Jasmine shot back.



“Because………” Grace faltered before continuing, “Because you did this to me…..made me this way….turned me into……”



She fell silent then as if she was unsure of what to say.



“Oh don’t stop there baby.” Jasmine urged. “Please finish. Tell us all exactly what I’ve turned you into”



“A whore….” Grace confessed.



Jasmine seemed to pause in thought for a few moments then. She smiled thoughtfully before giving her reply.



“Watching you get violated by these four animals will be all the pleasure I’m going to need for now honey……and believe me…..it will most definitely give me pleasure.”



“Hey who are you calling an animal!” One of the men protested.



“Figure of speech…….don’t get your panties in a bunch over it.” Jasmine replied with a smile.



Grace saw her give a small nod then to one of the men and only moments later she felt his strong hands yank her panties harshly to one side.



The feeling of cold air against her skin soon followed as impatient fingers eased apart the flesh of her rump and then spread her labia apart.



The most intimate part of herself was now fully exposed.



‘Oh God…Oh God…Oh God’ Grace began to chant over and over in the back of her mind.



She suddenly felt the head of what she knew to be a very large, and very thick cock nestled into position against the opening of her vagina.



Grace just felt like she wanted to scream. She didn’t know if it was fear or lust driving her on anymore, all she knew is that she wanted this more than ever now.



“Any last words miss lawyer.” The man teased.



Grace knew instinctively then that he was only moments away from punching his manhood all the way inside her in one savage thrust.



Jasmine’s advice shot into Grace’s mind then.



She knew she needed to have more control over them than this. She had to be dirtier than them, to use them and then beat them at their own game.



Some way, somehow, she had to at least try to get that control back before it was too late.



The answer came in a blinding flash of inspiration and before she even knew it, she found herself saying something that she would never have believed possible before that night.



“My ass-hole’s not good enough for you baby?” Grace said in the best raspy drawl she could manage.



Those words seemed to hang in the air for an eternity and the man behind her just seemed to freeze.



“Huh?…Are you serious lady?” He replied clearly totally off guard now.



“Don’t you wanna fuck my tight little ass-hole first?” Grace quickly replied, trying to press her advantage even more.



Grace had always been able to dominate people in the courtroom, but the kind of overt sexual domination she was attempting right now just felt so much more exhilarating than any courtroom stunt she had ever pulled.



“Look I thought you said this dirty little slut was a fancy lawyer!” The man said to Jasmine Parks then.



“She is….so maybe you should give her what she wants unless you want to get sued.” She replied with very apparent satisfaction.



Jasmine’s tough exterior seemed to be slipping then. Some of the fire and venom in her eyes had left and the beginnings of arousal were clearly starting to affect her.



To a woman like Jasmine, sex was apparently just a source of income and a means of controlling others. Enjoying her job didn’t appear to be an option. But there was a definite change in her now and Grace could sense it.



Grace English, that dull little ‘suit-rack’ of a woman that Jasmine had controlled so easily only a couple of hours before was clearly learning and transforming before her eyes at an alarming rate. She was pulling tricks and beginning to control those men so fast that it was beautiful to watch and arousing all at the same time.



Maybe Grace was just kidding herself but it was even starting to feel like Jasmine was beginning to side with her rather than the four men she had arranged to ‘fuck her brains out’ in this dirty dark alley.



“You heard her…..Spit on her ass-hole and then fuck it real good….she is gonna love that. Ain’t that right pretty girl” Jasmine instructed.



She gave Grace a tiny little nod of acknowledgement then.



It was only a small gesture but Grace understood it immediately and her response was almost automatic.



“Ooooh yeah…Oh shit I want it…..spit on it…..spit on it and fuck it.” Grace replied.



Grace felt a large wad of spit land directly on her already tender ass-hole then.



The face of Jasmine Parks loomed into view in front of her own as she crouched down in front of her and stared directly into her eyes.



“Shit girl you learn fast.” Jasmine whispered then.



Grace immediately reached out and grabbed Jasmine’s hand tightly. Their fingers entwined as she began to lose herself inside the softening gaze of her tormentor.



“Oh fuck he’s about to do it…I…I can feel him lining it up.” she panted.



Jasmine said nothing, she just stared back intensely as if trying to soak up every thought, feeling and emotion that she saw.



Grace’s eyes blinked and then shut tightly as she felt the first tentative push against her tender sphincter.



Jasmine suddenly reached out with her free hand and then slapped her hard across the face.



Grace’s eyes flashed open in shock as that cruel woman in front of her began to speak.



“NO!……..No baby girl. Don’t shut those pretty eyes….keep them on mine…I wanna see it in your face….I wanna see you feel it.”



Something intense and indefinable was exchanged between the two women then. Grace continued to lose herself in the deep blue of Jasmine’s eyes as she stared on wildly.



Her mouth opened wide and a high pitched howl emerged from somewhere deep inside her.



The head of a very large and very rigid cock had just penetrated past her twitching little sphincter and now inch after inch of male flesh was slowly invading her.



Before tonight Grace English had never known the sensation of erect male flesh invading her timid little ass. It had never been an option. Too extreme. Too scary.



Now suddenly in the space of that one night she was willingly accepting a second massive cock into that tiny opening.



Dirty……..Degrading……But electrifying too.



It didn’t hurt like it had earlier that night. Instead she felt a fullness that travelled all the way into the pit of her stomach.



A sickly sweet and undeniably dirty feeling erupted in the back of her mind when she felt his pelvis slap into her rump.



Before she even knew it he had sunk deep inside her all the way to the base of his balls and that knowledge suddenly made her feel like screaming.



“OHH FUUUUCCK………OHH GAWD” Grace howled and then shook.



“Shit man did you see how easy he sank that thing into her? I ain’t ever seen such a small woman like that take so much dick in her ass before.” One of the men commented as he watched intently.



“Oh we broke in her little virgin ass earlier tonight. That’s nothing compared to what we did to her a couple of hours ago.” Jasmine replied clearly looking very pleased with her-self.



Once more she spoke to Grace but this time her words were loud and clear. This time Jasmine wanted all of those men to hear what she was about to say.



“It doesn’t hurt like it did a few hours ago now does it baby?” She said in an almost gentle tone.



“N-No…..Oh gawd no,” was the raspy reply.



The man behind Grace didn’t move and inch then, he just stayed buried in her ass all the way to the hilt as if waiting for some unknown cue or signal.



“I know what you’re feeling pretty girl.” Jasmine paused for effect before continuing. “That massive cock filling your ass so deep that it’s practically inside your tummy……..touching you in all those forbidden places.”



“Oh fuck…….Oh fuck I wanna scream.” Grace panted in reply.



“But it just feels so fuckin good to you now doesn’t it baby.” Jasmine pressed further “…..so much dirtier…..so much tighter than that nasty little pussy of yours.”



Grace’s mind just seemed to swim with a thousand different thoughts and desires at that moment. Vivid fantasies of her own violation and submission at the hands of Jasmine and those men. Dreams and reality blending into one.



The knowledge that she had become nothing more than a whore for their pleasure and the realisation that she loved every moment of this new reality.



A vision of how all of this must have looked suddenly flashed through her mind almost like an out of body experience.



A simple whore in slutty lingerie bent over a filthy trash dumpster in a dirty and dark alley. A man standing behind her with his massive cock buried so very deep in her little ass-hole.



A beautiful blonde woman in a red dress standing there accompanied by three more strong men. All of them watching with undisguised lust in their eyes.



It was a beautiful vision made all the more shocking by the simple fact that this was no mere fantasy. It was all very very real and it was all happening to her right now.



“You’re gonna be a good little girl and beg him to fuck your ass nice and hard aren’t you baby.” Jasmine said calmly.



“G-good girl…….y-yes…..ohh…oh ffuuu…….y-yes……such a good little girl for you.” Grace just seemed to hiss and stammer then.



“THEN DO IT!” Jasmine said with a sudden volume that startled everyone.



“Please……Oh shit…..please just fuck it real hard.” she rasped in reply.



“Not good enough…try harder.” Jasmine instructed and immediately Grace obeyed.



“Please….please do it….. I just can’t take it anymore….”



Grace English looked up then and realised that Jasmine had moved from her position in front of her and was now standing next to the man behind.



She heard a soft whisper as she spoke to him and his response was little more than a grunt. It was an odd sound, an almost laugh tinged with aggression.



“One of you had better get in front of her and hold her steady…this is gonna get kinda vigorous.” The man behind her instructed.



Within moments Grace felt a strong pair of hands push her body down firmly onto the dumpster.



The next few seconds became a blur.



Nothing happened quite the way Grace had expected and it was all so fast that her mind seemed to struggle to keep pace with what was actually happening.



She felt the man behind her thrust his pelvis backward, creating a void inside her where his massive cock had been only moments earlier. Her body tensed up in anticipation as she waited for him to slam all of his manhood back into her ass in one cruel thrust.



But…….that didn’t happen.



Instead she felt the cold night air begin to fill the void inside her.



He had unexpectedly slid his cock all the way out of her leaving her stretched little hole open and exposed.



Less than a second later she felt something entirely different.



He instead thrust his cock into her soaking wet vagina all the way in one savage jolt.



Her body bucked and a shockwave travelled through her flesh as his body slammed up against hers.



In one abrupt move he had taken her deep and hard.



The merciless ass-fucking that she had begged for only moments earlier had now been replaced by a vaginal pounding of epic proportions.



An explicit version of ‘bait and switch’ that set her mind spinning.



Her body seemed to overload into a state of total confusion then.



She wasn’t sure what she was feeling or even where it was coming from.



Arousal…….Fear…….Adrenaline.



New nerve endings being tripped and unexpected pleasure centres lighting up automatically.



Something totally unprecedented happened to Grace then.



Something she never thought possible. It happened instantly and without warning, and as it tore through her, a loud scream erupted from her throat.



An immediate and crashing orgasm that exploded the moment he thrust into her aching pussy.



Wave after wave and contraction after contraction pulsed through her body as the man behind her began to move and thrust.



“Shit did she just……….” One of the men commented.



“Yeah she did….” Jasmine continued “She came real hard as soon as he shoved his cock inside her…..and….I’m pretty sure the little whore is still coming.”



Jasmine was right. Grace’s prolonged orgasm still raged inside her.



Even when that feeling began to subside, her body still burned with arousal and carnal pleasure.



Every deep thrust into her just seemed to enflame her desires more and she knew that a second powerful climax would surely hit her very hard and very soon.



“Jesus I think she’s about to go again and it ain’t even been half a minute yet…..I think I just found me my next wife.” One of the other men commented then.



“Sorry……but she’s not up for grabs…..I have big plans for little Grace.” Jasmine said calmly.



She walked slowly back to the front of the dumpster then and once more crouched down.



She smiled.



It was a genuine and almost contented look that bore no hint of malice or anger.



She carefully grabbed a handful of Grace’s auburn hair and gently lifted her head until their eyes met once more.



Grace struggled to hold that gaze and lock onto the deep blue eyes of Jasmine Parks but no matter how hard she tired she kept losing that link.



The man behind her was picking up the pace and ferocity of his thrusts.



Every few seconds her body would jolt and shudder and her vision would blur just long enough to lose that connection.



Each time it took Grace a few moments to find those blue eyes once again only to be rocked and shuddered by another massive thrust.



“Shit do you mean to tell me that you’re gonna waste this fine piece of ass on some kinda lesbian bullshit?” The same man said then.

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