Chav 3.

Enemy Territory.



“So, how long is your Barry gonna be staying on the sofa?” Emma McDonald moaned.

It was a moan within a moan, the question was a guarded complaint and was mixed in with a horny, guttural and unequivocally sexual sound, but the duality seemed to have been wasted on Ray.

They were in the bathroom of Ray’s terrace house, sharing the hot water spray of the shower. The stainless steel apparatus was screwed into the tiled wall above the bath with a glass screen to keep the hot rain from spraying the linoleum floor. The unimaginative white and blue tiled bathroom was filled with hot steaming mist that made everything beyond the bath a hazy, vague, colour palette without detail.

Of course they were both naked, their flesh well lubricated with shower spray, soap suds and shampoo bubbles. It hadn’t taken long before the mutual shared showering turned into a frantic, horny and noisy fuck. Hence Emma’s horny, breathy and guttural moaning.

Raymond Mather tensed his hairy, shower smoothed legs and hoisted Emma upward. She was pressed against his chest, her arms around his neck as her lips abruptly mashed against his, tongue darting in his hungry mouth with a passionate horniness that she never seemed to loose when he was around.

He had one arm around her upper back, his forearm half crushed between Emma and the icy cold tiled wall, the other clamped tight on her meaty ass, cupping and squeezing hard at the chosen ass cheek while she gyrated against him with her strong agile hips, working the half length of his throbbing, super-hard cock inside her ever hot and damp, clutching pussy.

Christ, he thought, with an inward chuckle. She’d shag me into an early grave if I let her fuck me every time she wanted, the horny little bitch!

He still marvelled at the intensity of how he apparently made her feel. She told him how much she loved him and wanted him almost every day, but he could never quite get his head around it. Let alone how horny he apparently made her. If she had her way they be fucking twenty four seven!

Why he didn’t let her fuck him twenty four seven was something else he couldn’t understand, except for the fact that at almost forty he no longer had the energy or libido to match hers.

He started up a thrusting pace to match her gyrating hips and pumped his shaft in her tight young cunt, finding an angle that worked the ridge of his swollen, erect crown against the clutching walls of her tight teenage pussy.

Christ, she was a really good fuck. Easily the best he’d had, but she was insatiable when it came to him. Unbelievably, even though he was more than twenty years her senior, all too often he had to turn her down when she wanted sex. It was an embarrassing mix of him not having the stamina he had enjoyed in his youth and that these days he tended to tire easily. Plus the fact that she was hard to please. No, that wasn’t right. He wanted to please her. He loved her too and wanted to please her as much as she pleased him, but to put it simply he was lazy. It took effort to get her off and he couldn’t always manage it. No that wasn’t right either. He couldn’t be bothered making the effort.

He was secure with her and knew he didn’t have to make much of an effort to keep her. So why should he bother? He’d have to put an awful lot of feet wrong for her to fuck him off and that made him lazy. Making it her own fault in a way.

And, more fool her. She often, more often than not, opted to suck him off, which was always the best for him. It fed his laziness for one and he’d always loved a good blow job and Emma had a fantastic mouth. She could deep throat. And she had a great talent at sucking the cum right out of his balls. She even swallowed and cleaned up afterwards. Hard working, neat and clean.

She was always willing, though he suspected often disappointed that it was all she was going to get. Too often he fought down his minor sense of guilt and either allowed her to suck him to climax or even worse asked her too, so he wouldn’t have to go through the effort of fucking her and trying to make her cum.

Best of all she never even seemed that bothered. She never complained. He might catch a glimpse of disappointment in her eye but he could ignore that easily enough. And she always put her all into pleasing him no matter what. Every time she’d expertly deep throat him until he shot his load, continue to work on him right through his orgasm, swallow his load completely and even clean him up afterwards. He had the best girlfriend and he knew it.

Best yet, when he was feeling dominant, or fantasising about that mate of hers Becky Taylor, she would even take a face fucking without complaint. Gagging, yeah, but never a complaint!

Emma hooked her legs around Ray’s waist and dug her heels into his buttocks, pressing inward to urge him into driving his cock deeper into her clutching pussy.

He obliged of course, with snappy grunts of passion augmenting his physical thrusts into her delightfully soaked and hot sleeve, slamming with his hips as much as her gripping thighs and calves allowed.

If he was brutally honest Emma was a tiny bit overweight, she had a bit of a belly, the beginnings of a spare tyre, a pretty big ass, though it maintained the mouth-watering pertness of her youth, and full meaty thighs.

However, looking at the bright side, if she wasn’t that tiny bit overweight she’d have a boring little pair of tits. As it was, though not big from his point of view, they were a reasonable handful apiece and Emma always seemed pretty responsive to his attentiveness to her tits. It was a bonus in Ray’s mind, he’d always been a breast man. That was more than likely why Emma’s mate Becky had made such an impression on him, she’d had a great rack. A really great rack.

As if reading his mind, Emma lifted her mouth from his, straightened her arms and leaned back, pushing her hips more firmly against his thrusting hard on and lifting her chest up toward his face.

Ray, grinning, hungrily lowered his face into her soft, wet cleavage and snatched hold of an already stiff nipple, sucking and licking at the spongy bud, while Emma moaned and squirmed against him in her soon to be cresting pleasure.

He sucked at her hot nipples and licked at the still warm shower water that cascaded down her plump breasts before lifting his face from heaven and searching out her lips and tongue again.

Their mouths locked, tongues dancing, while he selfishly braced her against the cold tiles of the wall and power thrust into her throbbing young pussy for a few long seconds while their hungry, horny kiss continued. And then he abruptly remembered she’d asked him something in between their dirty Frenching snogs.

“Oh, ’till he finds a new place to rent I s’ppose. Squeeze my balls will you?” He said with an erotic grunt, trying not to be too distracted from his pleasure while answering her question.

Barry’s semi, on the edge of the estate, had accidentally burned almost to the ground after a recent police raid. Supposedly it had been the accidental knocking over of a candle in the confusion during the early hours. But Ray had heard from a few so called witnesses that the fire had already been raging before the police had arrived.

Ray deliberately pushed the thought process out of his mind. Thinking about his unlucky kid brother wasn’t the best aphrodisiac in the world and he was getting close to shooting his load.

Emma had managed to slide a hand down under her ass and had somehow caught hold of his heavy testicles and she was palming his balls in their sack, delicate fingers weaving their wonderfully magical touch across his scrotum, making them tighten and tingle, throwing illicit palpitations right through his lower abdomen and straight up his straining hard on.

“Ohhhh, that’s it. Fucking yeah babe! He’s er… Waiting on the insurance from his place burning down. Jesus, that’s good, Em… But to be honest I don’t think he’ll get it, you know what insurance company’s are like. You don’t mind him staying do you?”

Emma’s response was more than a little hesitant, but, again, Ray didn’t seem to notice.

“No… Not… really… It’s just, we just got some privacy after I moved in with you and now we’ve lost it again. I liked the way we could shag whenever and wherever we wanted.”

Even as she spoke Emma could swear she could see the translucent shape of the top of Barry’s head in the frosted glass panel in the locked bathroom door.

There was a tiny crack in the corner of the pane and Barry had almost immediately discovered that it made an excellent spy hole. He had been watching Emma’s various trips to the bathroom since he first moved in. Every time she’d tried to cover it with something, the ‘something’ had miraculously disappeared, often minutes later.

He was probably wanking off while he stood there and watched Emma and his older brother naked and screwing frantically in the shower.

“We’re doing that anyway aren’t we?”

“It’s not the same though.”

“I think you’re being a bit selfish Em, but… Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Yeah! Mmmm! You’re too effing good at that for me to hold a grudge!”

Emma laughed in response, working her cunt muscles, caressing his hot silky erection as he thrust it firmly up and down in her tight hot and damp teenage pussy.

“Will you two hurry up, I wanna take a dump!” Barry’s impatient plea came from the other side of the door. But to Emma it sounded as though he was standing right beside them and she involuntarily jumped with a barely repressed apprehension.

Ray, on the other hand, just chuckled. Nothing about Barry fazed Ray, he was blind to his faults and immune to his rudeness.

“I suppose we’ve been here long enough…” Ray conceded, much to Emma’s annoyance, after another minute of increasingly frantic fucking. “…You don’t mind getting me off with your mouth do you? State you’ve got me in, should only take a minute.”

“Okay.” With a rather forced smile, Emma acquiesced.

She disentangled herself from her fella and slid down to her knees under the hot water spray of the sizzling shower, trying to ignore how cold it was when the shower spray wasn’t directly on you. She was practically as blind and immune to Ray’s faults and selfishness as he was to his brother’s.

She didn’t waste any time, or offer any complaint, just clutched at his scrotum with one hand and brought it to her mouth to kiss and lick and suck on his balls. At the same time she slid her other hand between his shower-sprayed buttocks and the pressed her middle finger into his anus, curling the digit back to search out his prostate. The way she knew, from experience, he liked it best.

As he tensed at the illicit penetration and let out his usual groan of pleasure, Emma opened her mouth and plunged it all the way down his cum slick erection, tasting her own juices along the shaft as she took it all the way in, straight into her throat.

Twenty seconds of furious, deep, gag inducing, throat rasping facial pumping from Emma and Ray yelled out hoarsely and staggered, his knees going weak, as his climax broke.

Groaning loudly, he grabbed the walls in front and behind to hold him up as his cock erupted, spitting it’s fire-hot liquid tribute to Emma’s lusty talents, furiously right across her quick flicking tongue.

She instinctively took him all the way in and ferociously tongue lashed his ball sack, even as his pulsing erection strained and writhed in her mouth and the bloated crown spat it’s hot creamy ropes down her throat.

She finally drew her mouth back, enjoying the feel of the last few streams of his seed splashing onto her tongue, tasting his thick spunk before she swallowed it, gulping down the last trickles of his always plentiful load and then sucked again, drawing the last few remnants from his balls and cleaning his shaft with her saliva and hard working tongue.

“Thanks sweet, that was incredible.” Ray grunted hoarsely, panting and enjoying post climatic sensations, as Emma dutifully finished cleaning him up with her talented teenage mouth, before she slid her way under the shower spray to warm up and gargle the taste from her mouth.


They got dressed in silence in the steamy bathroom, picking their discarded clothes from the damp linoleum floor. Then rather hurriedly, as he was emptying his bladder, Ray flipped through his wallet, checking the few notes he had in cash.

“I’d best nip to Aldi before it shuts. I’ll only be twenty minutes or so. Want me t’get some of that Peach Schnapps you like?”

“The strawberry if they’ve got it, babes.” Emma nodded, a little absently, busy with tugging the cropped cotton pants over her hips and fastening the fly. “See you later.”

Michael Mather left the bathroom and Emma heard his heavy footfalls down the carpeted stairs, then she heard the front door go. She wiped a palm sized circle of unfogged mirror glass on surface of the wall-mounted mirror while she started to run a brush through her still damp, collar-length brunette locks.

She had almost forgotten that Barry was right outside. But the second she heard the reverberating bang of the front door, why can’t he use his fucking key? Barry walked into the bathroom, one hand already unbuttoning his pants.

“Fucking hell Barry, give me a minute.” She complained, glaring over at him in the mirror’s reflection. And then she realised her predicament.

Why it hadn’t occurred to Emma that Ray had just accidentally left her alone with Barry for at least twenty minutes when she knew the younger brother was already horny from watching her and Ray shagging in the shower, she didn’t know. But the second she realised she cursed herself inwardly. She had more or less been able to keep Ray between her and Barry. Or if Ray wasn’t around, Emma had made sure she wasn’t either.

Ever since he’d fucked her after the whole weekend debacle with her and Becky Taylor and that Derby slut, she knew without a doubt he’d be after her for more of the same. So of course, this being an excellent opportunity, Barry was all over her like a rash.

There had been two occasions like this one before where he had got her alone, but she had managed to avoid countless others.

The first time Ray had gone to the dole office for an interview or something and Emma hadn’t expected Barry to go for her so quickly. She had however, managed to dissuade him from fucking her and talked him into accepting a blow job. So he’d pushed her to her knees right there in the kitchen, pinning her against the sink and fucking her face, banging her head over and over against the edge of the aluminium sink unit until he pulled out with a snarling grunt and shot a heavy load all over her tear stained face.

She had still been washing the spunk out of her hair in the sink and nursing the tender bump on the back of her head when Ray had come home, but of course he hadn’t noticed or suspected anything.

The second occasion had been a few Fridays ago, late one night after Emma had exhausted Ray following a rare four hour shagging session. She had slipped out of their bedroom to have a quick shower before going to sleep and had been followed into the bathroom by Barry, who’d had been listening and wanking off outside the door for most of the four hours.

Without a word he’d fucked her brutally in the shower for a painful and exhaustive half hour, but his balls had been emptied too many times already and he hadn’t been able to get off.

Finally had had given up and let Emma dry off and go back to Ray’s bed, for fear of having his brother come looking for her and catching them at it.

Ever since then, Emma had been always alert and always careful never to be alone with Barry. Until now.

He wrapped his arms around her and used his weight to pin her between him and the sink. Emma tried to shove her way free of him but he was too strong for her. His hands grabbed at her soft teenage body at random, squeezing at her soft warm flesh through her clothes.

It wasn’t long though before he had one of her perky handful breasts cupped in an excited palm, the pad of his thumb stroking the spongy head of a nipple, while his other hand pushed down between their bodies to get hold of the cotton encased orbs of her round buttocks and reaching further around, the soft ridge of heat between them that was the lips of her young pussy.

Emma moaned at his intimate and unwarranted caresses but she knew she couldn’t fight him off. She was scared of him and she honestly didn’t know who Ray would choose between his girlfriend and brother if it came down to it. She wasn’t prepared to put it to the test so up to a point, she had to keep Barry sweet. She cursed herself for letting her guard down and giving Barry time alone with her and the opportunity to put his cock in her again.

He moved back an inch and whipped her around to face him, immediately grabbed her hands and pressed them to his body, one against his lean bony arse and the other against the bulging tent of his trouser crotch.

Then he pulled her tightly against him, holding her with the iron bar strength of one hand while his free hand stroked her throat, her collar bone and shoulder before sliding down to her breasts again.

“You got him off good and proper, didn’cha!”

He cupped her breasts again squeezing hard, his lust feeding his aggression as usual.

“I watched you swallowin’ his load. Now you’ll have to do me just the same, you dirty little slut.” He grunted with a grinning, animalistic, fiery look.

Then his mouth found hers and he kissed her hard, his tongue pressing sharply between her lips and forcing the kiss to turn both French and vile. Emma made herself take his hot worming tongue, made herself squeeze his arse and his erect dick with her delicate fingers. She barely withheld a pained wince as he twisted and pinched her erect nipples through her thin cotton polo shirt in his heightened horniness.

“I thought you needed a shit?” She gasped when he finally pulled his tongue from her mouth and swallowed the rancid saliva he’d deliberately fed to her.

Her language was always more coarse with Barry, a symptom of her hatred for him probably. Part of her still fought against doing something she didn’t want to. Part of her hoped Barry felt the same uncertainty she did about who Ray would favour more and that he needed to keep Ray in his life as much as she did, maybe he wouldn’t want to push his luck either.

“I need my balls emptying first, ‘less you wanna suck me off while I’m squeezing one out on’t bog?” He replied with a grunt.

Disgusted, Emma felt this violation was suddenly unbearable to her and she let go of his hot, hard, throbbing ridge and tried to pull his groping hands from her.

In retaliation, Barry insistently put her hands back where he wanted them, using a quick hard scowl as the only warning he would give her if she tired to pull away again. His hands went back to her tits, pulling her shirt up and tugging away the bra cups to molest her bared flesh with lustful cruelty.

“You’re fucking disgusting!” Emma snapped in reply, but she didn’t want to push her luck any further and she didn’t try to free herself from him again.

“That’s a ‘no’ then.” He grinned and then spun her around, rubbing his hardness against her smooth round ass while his hand continued to maul her buoyant young tits. He turned her head to the side and forced her to accept another long horny French kiss, plying her with his eroticised tongue.

His erection felt like a fat, foot long iron rod against her soft cheeked bottom. Emma was panting for breath when he finally pulled his mouth off hers. He tasted disgusting, stale cigs and stale booze.

“If we had more time I’d dump my load right up your shitter, but I’m gonna take my time when I ass fuck you and we both know how much of a squealer you can be, so I’ll have to make do with a suck job for the time being.”

He spun her around again, this time both hands attacked her ass cheeks and the hot ridge between them as he subjected her to yet more kisses, licking her throat, tonguing and nibbling at her ear lobes. Then his mouth went for her exposed nipples and they got the same treatment as her ear lobes, though harsher and for longer.

Finally he pulled away, one hand went to the top of her head, his dark fiery eyes locked to hers, while the other reached for the front of his shell suit pants. Then he pushed insistently on the top of Emma’s head.

“C’mon, on your knees Jailbait and do the business. Make it good and quick, you don’t want our kid coming back and walking in on us do you?”

Reluctantly, though accepting his point about Ray coming back early, Emma followed the pressure on the top of her head, sliding down to her knees and putting her hands onto Barry’s lean thighs while he fished the raging hard-on out of his pants. He pulled his hard, thick veined cock out, scooped his pendulous ball sack free as well and then angled it, by a finger and thumb at the root, in line with her waiting lips.

“Open up.” He grunted down at her. “C’mon, you know how I like it.”

The hand on top of her head snatched a fistful of her straight brunette bob and pulled her face forward urgently. Obediently, Emma’s mouth opened wide and Barry immediately thrust forward with his hips, plunging half of his long hardness into her hot young mouth.

He groaned as he felt Emma press upward with her hot tongue, slicking the underside of his cock and rasping the upper ridge against her soft palette.

Barry shivered a little, as much at the sight of the sultry jailbait’s mouth stretched round his hard circumference, as the feel of the heat and wetness of her lips, mouth and tongue. He shuffled forward a half step, feeding her another inch or two and then shoved hard with his hips, plugging the crown right into her throat, enjoying the sensation of the sensory ‘pop’ as his swollen cock head penetrated her tight succulent throat. A little horny wheeze followed as his foreskin was drawn back by the constriction of her oesophagus.

“Uhhhhh! Yeah bitchhh! That’s good! Now, lick my balls!”

Emma, trying not to gag, pushed her tongue forward with difficulty, forcing a gap between the bloated underside of his thick hard on and her damp, puffy bottom lip and she lapped forward and back along the hot throbbing ridge at the base of his erection.

“C’mon, you’re not there yet, stretch for ‘em!”

Reluctantly, Emma responded, shoving her face hard up against his abdomen, almost retching as his cock thudded that last inch down her throat and then reached forward with her tongue, fighting the bloated feeling that filled her mouth and throat. She squeezed her tearful eyes shut against the smothering sensations as she lathered his testicles with her tongue.

She fought to inhale air through her nostrils as she tongued his balls, listening to his groans and feeling the physical response, muscle trembles against her tongue and the inside of her mouth and the muscles of her throat.

“Oh fuck yeah!” He groaned. “Now go to work.”

He grasped her hair in a fist and drew her face forward and back, in a slow pace to begin with, while he plunged the length of his shaft from crown to root in and out of her throat, pulling her all the way along it again and again.

It wasn’t long though before he speeded up, making her take his whole length with a quick and bruising pace.

At last he let go of her head and leaned back, bracing his hands against the sink and letting Emma take over doing the hard work, leaving him to savour the pleasure in full.

He only grabbed her head again at the end. He was panting and groaning as his climax started to rise to it’s peak. Emma had one hand cupping his heavy balls and the other reaching around the back to grip one of his buttocks.

There was a telltale quivering in his loins and she could feel movement in his scrotum, the testicles swelling and tightening in preparation. That was when both his hands went to her head, one grabbing the length of her hair around the back of her skull in an impromptu ponytail, while the other came down across her forehead in a two handed vice grip. He held her tightly in both hands and started to fuck her face with a brutal rhythm, bashing her nose and chin with the startling force of his thrusts.

Emma’s throat was already raw and overfilled with saliva but it wouldn’t have stopped her finishing the blowjob even if Barry hadn’t taken over control. She just wanted to get it over and done with before Ray came back.

Barry started to snarl out animalistic grunts in time with his rapid face fuck telling Emma, thankfully, that there were only seconds to go.

“Oh Jesus fuck!” He snarled. “Fuck! I want your ass! I want it! Fuckin’ hell!”

In sudden panic Emma’s snatched at his ball sack, rolling, squeezing, caressing, working harder with ferocious deep, fast sucks to get him off before he was able to lift her up and bend her over something.

Fortunately, it worked. He howled gutturally, jerked her face hard against him and let fly. Emma gulped and swallowed at his thick plentiful cum, as he slid his spurting cock forward and back with uncontrolled uneven thrusts across her tongue so his pumping seed filled her mouth and coated her taste buds, and then pushing deep into her throat to shoot more jets of the thick pearly fluid straight to her stomach. He held her on his dick until she’d sucked his balls dry and then eased her back away from him, panting and groaning and laughing in exhausted post-orgasm bliss.

“Fuckin’ awesome cocksucker!” Barry wheezed.

Disgusted, sore and angry with herself, Emma was out of the bathroom, to wash her mouth out and clean herself up downstairs at the kitchen sink, before Barry had even managed to pull his pants up.


Ray was only back an hour before he was off again. Emma was washing the breakfast dishes, while Barry lounged as usual on the living room sofa watching Jeremy Kyle, probably looking for people he knew.

Emma heard Ray’s car pull up to the pavement outside and decided she was finally safe.

She met him at the front door, kissed her boyfriend hungrily, hoping the mouthwash had killed off any aftertaste of Barry’s vile spunk, and then helped him put the shopping away. Almost at once though, Ray vanished upstairs again. Emma stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen watching Barry’s idleness with simmering hatred.

“Don’t you want to go and visit your mum as well?” She asked him hopefully, though already knowing what his answer would be.

“She threw me out when I was thirteen, the bitch.” He replied. “Why would I waste my time on her?” He didn’t even turn his head to look at her, his eyes glued to the television opposite.

“She’s your mum?!” Emma pointed out rhetorically.

“Look, if our kid wants t’waste his time on her that’s up to him. But she better not be expecting anything from me or she’s gonna be fucking sorry! Not that it’s anything t’do with you. Why aren’t you going, anyway?”

“She doesn’t approve of me. Ray hasn’t really said so but I know that’s why. She doesn’t want me there.” Emma replied glumly.

Ray came downstairs then in jeans, trainers and a white and blue striped rugby shirt, hefting a canvas sports bag filled with clothes over one shoulder and went straight to the front door. Emma met him there and they embraced and kissed again.

Ray’s free hand went playfully to Emma’s cropped cotton pants encased bottom and he cupped a firm though sizeable buttock gently as their lips came together, then their tongues.

The kiss was long, drawn out and hot and Emma knew Barry’s eyes would be glued to his brother’s hand hornily feeling up her ass. She forced the mental image of his leering face from her mind and focused on enjoying the kiss instead.

“Look after our Emma while I’m gone, will you?” Ray said good naturedly as he finally disentangled himself from his girlfriend and waved absently to his brother.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, our kid. I’ll see she behaves herself.” Barry called back with a malicious grin.

He was eyeing Emma with the same lust-burning look he always used on her. But as always Ray didn’t seem to notice.

“Last chance to change your mind.” She sang to Barry. “I’m sure another train ticket won’t be too expensive.”

“Sounds like you wanna get rid of me, maybe have a few wild parties planned while your fella’s away?”

“Of course I don’t!” She spat venomously then turned to Ray. “I don’t Ray.”

“He’s only teasing, Em.”

“You got your train ticket?”

“Yep.” He grinned down at her tapping his inside jacket pocket. “And change for bus fare too. Quick bus into town on the train for a couple of hours and I’m there.”

“Text me.”

“At the station, on the train and when I’m at mums.”

“You can do us some dirty ones too if you want.” She added with a flush cheeked whisper.

Ray just smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“No promises, but we could have a bit of phone sex tonight, I could talk dirty to you. Get you off.” She added, blushing.

And then they were kissing deeply, in each others arms again, Emma stroking Ray’s upper arms and broad shoulders while he caressed her bottom again, sliding his fingers up between the thin cotton encased orbs lewdly. Emma was practically panting when they parted.

“Right I’m off. See you in a bit.”

“See you, sweets. I’ll miss you.”

“Bye bro.” Barry said half heartedly.

Emma turned to throw him a disgusted look but her attention was snatched by his eyes on her body, undressing her, assaulting her. She could see the bulge of the erection plainly in Barry’s shiny blue shell suit pants and knew exactly what she was in for.

So immediately, the second the door swung shut behind Ray, Emma grabbed her keys and purse from the shelf unit near the front door, then snatched her woollen coat from the back on an armchair.

“C’mere, Em. Got something for you.” Barry called, his hand already in his pants levering his erection from beneath the elastic waistband. “It’s time to get your big sweet ass fucked. I’m gonna be banging your bubble butt all fuckin’ weekend!”

“Sorry, going out. See ya!” She smiled victoriously and then left before Barry could drag himself off the couch after her.

She slammed the door behind her and took off with a fast walk, heading to the little pedestrian path to was a short cut from their cul-de-sac. She glanced to her right and watched longingly as Ray strolled in the opposite direction toward the bus stop. His long legs having already carried him to the far end of their street. She wanted to go after him, wanted to stand there and watch him until he was out of sight, but she was scared of Barry chasing after her. She kept up the fast walk.

All she had to do now was think of a way of staying out of the house and away from Barry until Ray got back.


Becky Taylor had been forced to get the bus into town. The new Tinchy Stryder CD was out and as she was skint and usual, she’d have to risk a bit of shoplifting to get hold of it, not that shoplifting was much of a risk.

Her mum had pawned her laptop again so it was back to the old portable cd player. And that was only saved from the pawn shop ’cause it was so fucking old and manky.

Riding buses to and from the estate was a real risky business. They were a haven for old perverts trying to cop a feel and the usual gangs of horny lads who worked like packs of hyena’s, surrounding and separating a girl from her friends or the view of the bus driver (not that they ever got involved, like other passengers, they kept their heads down and their minds on their own business) and then copping a mass feel, hauling her tits out or getting into her pants and giving her a good fingering, even sometimes making them suck a cock or three to avoid the threat of worse treatment.

The late bus was the worse of the lot. Getting on the late bus, unless you were in a group of five or six and willing to fight hair and nail, practically guaranteed getting fucked by a gang of lads. They rode the late bus every night deliberately to target girls who either hadn’t learned yet or didn’t have any choice. For lads it was as much of a certainty to get laid as going up Shiftnall Street was where the professional sluts hung out. The only difference was that a late bus fuck only cost them their bus fare.

Becky had been fortunate that time around. She’d managed to get a place on the backseat of the bus just as it got crowded. But now it was standing room only and that was how the lads liked it best, they’d pick seats on the isles in the middle of the bus and then wait for a morsel to either get on or try to get off then they get up as one and surround her.

She was witnessing exactly that performance now, the seat beside her had just been vacated by a woman and child. And she was trying to make her way quickly down the isle toward the front of the bus with toddler in tow, a busty redhead about Becky’s mum’s age.

Becky knew from previous experiences that, if they were even remotely hot, even the oldies weren’t immune.

The lads had watched her get up, her swept back shoulder length hair pony-tailed and curling back toward the nape of her neck bounced as she rose, the toddler’s hand tight in hers, as she started inching down the isle. The gang rose as one, innocently to begin with, but all too soon their bodies had pressed in close and stopped the redhead’s progress in her tracks.

The bus’s music was played loud and there was plenty of chatter and children shouting and crying which made the busty MILF’s annoyed protests pointless. The lads crowded in around her and actually pulled the toddler out of the way.

Some kindly pensioner, who knew exactly what was going on and knew well enough not to interfere, hauled the child safely up onto his lap while the lads went for it’s MILF parent.

She started bravely enough, snarling and shouting and struggling. Slapping their eager hands away, pushing them off her. But as ever a Stanley knife or kitchen knife appeared and the fight went out of her as quickly as the anger in her eyes was replaced by fear. And then the boys’ hands were all over her.

Her big tits came out first, the low v-neck of the green t-shirt stretched down and out and then the bra encased orbs were none too gently tugged out and pulled free of the white lace cups.

While lad’s hands cupped and squeezed her big tits and mouths locked onto fear hard nipples, other hands were at her off-white jeans. They were quickly unbuttoned and hands shoved down front and back scrambling down for the hot goods between her thighs and buttocks. Her legs were kicked apart for easier access and her hands were grabbed and pressed against bulging teenage crotches and then around hurriedly exposed erections.

She would have missed her stop, the driver wouldn’t have waited for the lads to finish with her and then for her to get off the bus, she would have been held by the lads as long as possible and the driver would have given up waiting and carried on with his journey. Fortunately for the MILF, Emma was waiting at the same stop and got on the bus. It provided enough of a distraction, as a few of the lads turned their attention to assess the quality of the newcomer, and enough time for the MILF to pull herself free of their molesting hands, grab her toddler offspring by the tiny hand and rush off the bus.

A forearm was slapped quickly across her big exposed tits, hiding saliva coated nipples but not much else, she had to stop and button up her jeans, which were drooping halfway down her thighs, before attempting to descend the steps to the relative safety of the pavement beyond. Which provided an embarrassing mini scene and a few titters and amusement from the onlookers at the front.

And then she was gone and the gang of lads was starting to turn their horny attention on Emma.

She was wearing cropped length sand coloured cotton pants that hugged the curves of her thighs and was drawn snug against the meaty muscle of her ass cheeks. She wore a grey woollen three quarter length coat-type thing which was open at the front to reveal a green and white stripped polo shirt that clung to her small high breasts.

The pretty teenage brunette actually did quite well, aiming for the recently vacated seat next to Becky who Emma had noticed, recognised and smiled at in obvious relief. Then came the hard part, she kept her head down and her eyes averted, and somehow managed to get through the pressing in gang. Saying that, they seemed to be in a half hearted, playful mood. If they had wanted to stop her in the midst of them they no doubt would have been able to.

As Becky watched with a half excited interest, Emma was grabbed by the upper arm and held long enough to have half a dozen hands close on her tender young curves.

Her big cotton encased ass was grabbed and squeezed hard by three different lads, fingers pushing up firmly into the cleft, against the under curves of her buttocks and all over her young jutting breasts.

She winced, fought down tears and managed to abruptly twist out of their harsh collective grasp and pushed past them, practically running to the seat at the back beside Becky.

The lads, laughing, let her go with little more than jeers and ribald abuses. They turned their attention instead to a couple of cute blonde girls in Red and Yellow uniforms up at the front. Pleated skirts, baseball caps and polo shirts. Pizza place uniforms or something like that.

“I fucking hate buses!” Emma snorted by way of a hello.

“Alright, Em. Have fun did ya?”

“Yeah, course, hell of a fucking time! One of ‘em practically yanked my tit off when I pulled away!” The bobbed haired brunette winced as she massaged her bosom tenderly.

“You got off light. Mate of a mate of mine got fucking gangbanged on the night bus a few weeks ago, three hours they had her. She couldn’t walk afterward. Said she shat and puked nothing but spunk for three days. So she said. But she’s a fucking slut anyway, might have enjoyed it.”

There was a moment of silence while Emma rubbed her bottom a little, squirming for a comfortable position on the ripped backseat.

“My fucking arse is sore too now, bastards!” She muttered, throwing daggers in the general direction of the gang of lads.

“Where you off?” Becky asked her.

“Nowhere really, Barry’s still being a total fucking wanker, trying to shag me while my Ray’s off out. Needed to make myself scarce ’till he comes back so… Here I am.”

“Barry the dealer? Your Ray’s brother?”

“Yeah him. I fucking hate that wanker.”

“He just needs distracting from your meaty arse, that’s all.” Becky said with a sly grin. “I’d take him on in a fucking second.”

“Why for fucks sake?”

“He’s a fucking dealer in’t he?! Crack and dosh on tap! Plus them kind of arseholes wouldn’t mess with me or Barry’d take a fucking bat to ‘em. Pimp their sisters out. Give ‘em a taste of a sawn-off or some’at.” She sang with excitement, nodding her head in the direction of the gang of lads who were now solely engrossed in the succulent wares of the two girls in the front quarter of the bus.

Becky watched them in silence for a time, peering between the other bodies occupying the seats and isles to catch glimpses of what the lads were busy doing to the poor girls. Poor girls my arse! Better them than her. She thought to herself.

The girls had basically been pulled up out of their seats then the lads had taken their places and simply pulled the girls back down onto their laps again.

The girls whimpered and writhed and struggled in vain as hands disappeared under their colourful pleated skirts, shirts were yanked up onto chests.

Then one girl was pushed over so she leaned across her friend with her face in the lap of a third of the lads who was sitting along side them.

Becky couldn’t see any detail but the girl’s head, held there by two different sets of hands and manhandled, had started to bob up and down with quick jarring movements and it was all too obvious, to anyone watching, what she was being made to do.

The other girl abruptly had her legs levered vertically up into the air and held there, her pleated skirt falling open showing off her pale creamy bottom.

One of the lads was hard up against her at once, holding her legs against his shoulders while his free hand fumbled with his trouser zip.

“You’d have to fuck him all the time though.” Emma countered after a while, obviously still thinking about it.

“And he’s a right fucking weasel. A real dirty bastard. Anal obsessive. You don’t know him. He fucked me up the ass that day you were round. And my fucking Ray slept right through it! In the next room he was and he fucking slept right through it, I was shouting for him all the way though it and everything!”

Emma was almost in tears over the memory.

“I’m wondering if Barry had drugged him or something. Wouldn’t have put it past that shit.” She added, but then she shrugged and threw the painful memory aside.

“I’d fuck him anyway, fucked uglier arseholes before.” Becky muttered, shrugging.

“We should go back to yours. I can keep him occupied no probs, no man can resist these puppies.” Becky added proudly, cupping and hefting her large breasts through her vest top and half zipped silvery shell suit top.

“You can hang about upstairs out of his way till your fella comes back if you want. Once he’s had me he won’t bother with you anymore, I guarantee it!”

Becky had even meant it to sound insulting but, obviously, the mere thought of Ray’s creepy brother no longer being on Emma’s case was pure heaven to the younger girl and she grinned and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“You’d save my fucking ass. Literally!”

“This is a circular run isn’t it?” Becky asked, thinking ahead. “We can just ride it all the way around again. Driver won’t bother will he?”

“Yeah, why not.” Emma shrugged.

“Only thing I’ll have to make sure about is that he doesn’t just see it as a fuck. I’ll have to make him want to keep me around.”

“How’d you do that then?” Emma asked.

“Show him how good a fuck I am, I s’ppose… Do whatever he wants me to. Agree to do stuff I’m not happy about. Shows him I’m serious, see what I mean? Dedicated, whatever… And it’ll stop him looking elsewhere.”

“Stop him looking elsewhere? What’d yer mean?” Emma asked naively.

“It’s the way men’s minds work, innit. If there’s something you won’t do, it makes ‘em want it more. Play on their mind and shit. Pretty soon they’re looking around and wondering if another girl’ll do it. Before you know it he’s found someone who is willing and you’re dumped in a fucking flash. So the trick is do anything and everything… Short of bestiality and paedo shit…”


Barry was still lounging on the sofa watching a repeat of Loose Women and cursing their apparent sexist attitudes when Emma led Becky through the front door.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He growled at Emma before she had even got halfway through the door.”

“My dick’s gettin’ fucking impatient, fucking jailbait cunt! Get that meaty fuckin’ ass over here and bend it over in front of the…” He stopped himself short when he saw Becky Taylor standing behind Emma. “Oh it’s you is it? Becky something wasn’t it?”

“You remember me then?” Becky smiled, walking into the middle of the room, keeping herself between Barry and Emma, keeping herself the centre of his attention.

He wore blue shell suit pants, shiny, baggy and stained, and a short sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned and showing off his tattoos and the lean power of his hairless, weasely though muscled body. The blue shell suit pants didn’t conceal the thick lengthy ridge of his erect penis. And Becky clearly remembered what he had looked like naked in his house when he’d entertained Emma for the first time. And when she’d watched him sodomising her a little while later, handcuffed to the bed in her own bedroom.

She turned her attention to his eyes, they were on Emma behind her, trying to see past her to look at the younger girl. So Becky reached up and slowly unzipped her shell suit top. Her vest top and push up bra did their job on her large perky breasts and they did their job on Barry’s attention, his gaze shifted from Emma to Becky’s enticing on display cleavage.

His horny annoyance dissipated, a new spark came into his eyes and a grin came up to match Becky’s wide pretty smile. His erection didn’t go anywhere.

Becky’s gaze flashed across the scruffy furred-edged peeled veneer of the low coffee table in front of Barry’s sofa. Along with the ash trays, empty beer cans and three days worth of stacked cereal bowls was a small mirror, a razor blade and a clear plastic food bag of a suspect white powder. A cut down plastic drinking straw was lined up alongside the mirror. There was already a razor-cut line of the white powder on the mirror, ready and waiting.

“Can I have a bit?”

“Go ahead.” Barry replied with a nod and a shrug. His eyes were secure on Becky’s cleavage, locked there like a deer in headlights.

“Ray doesn’t want you doing that stuff in his house, you know that!” Emma muttered from the doorway.

“Yeah well, our Ray’s not ‘ere though is he!” Barry snarled at her, before turning his attention back to Becky’s breasts. “You knock yourself out, girl.”

Smiling, Becky knelt down on the floor on the opposite side of the table from Barry and then leaned forward and snatched up the straw. She made certain she kept her hair and her arms out of the line of sight between his lust and drug laden eyes and her full pert breasts, while she pressed the straw into one nostril, closed the other with a finger and snorted up the prepared line with a quick heavy inhalation.

The buzz hit almost at once. It seemed to start in the top of her head and spread out and down quickly. She closed her eyes, trying to repress the desire to let out a groan or a giggle, they both came out in a weird mixture that sounded a bit like a hiccough. She felt her nipples growing hard, pushing forward against her bra and vest top, her thighs gave little trembles and her loins quivered with suddenly heightened lust. There came a flowing warmth through her body and a slightly heady dizziness as though she’d just necked a two litre bottle of White Lightning.

“That’s some fucking rack you got on yer, girl.” He grunted, his lust brightened eyes boring into the lovely shadowed cleavage. “And you don’t give a shit about showin’ it off either, I like that. Our kid’s jailbait piece should take a few tips.” He added, nodding his head toward Emma.

“She hasn’t really got enough up here to show off though has she?” Becky teased.

“Maybe not, but her ass is proper bash-able. Fucking great for biting on too.” He grinned and licked his lips.

“So you prefer meaty to pert?”

“Lot to be said for meaty, get your teeth into a meaty ass and your fingers and then your dick. Pert ones’re usually small and flat, not as…What’s the fucking word…?”


“Yeah, I suppose. Bang-able.”

“You think mine’s flat?” Becky teased, snatching hold of the opportunity, turning around and drawing herself onto her tiptoes, she pulled the hem of her top up past her waist and simultaneously pulled the waistband of her shell suit pants up tight against her pert round ass cheeks. She caught Emma’s eye, who was still standing in the doorway of the living room, winked at her and then watched the younger brunette return a brief smile and then disappear quietly up the stairs.

“Think I might need a closer look to make my mind up.” Barry grunted, grinning.

“I suppose you’d wanna get your hands on it too, see how pliant it is?”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “Think that’d be the best idea.”

Becky came around the edge of the coffee table carefully and took up the position again, her bottom right in Barry’s face. His hands came up immediately and cupped the pert pair of cheeks, fingers moulding the outer curves with their little muscular dimples, thumbs pressed up against the firm under curves, his grip slightly pulling the cheeks apart. He squeezed and stroked and pushed and pulled, assessing and molesting at the same time.

“Hard. Warm. Perky. They certainly don’t jiggle like Emma’s. Though, like I said, lot to be said for jiggling flesh.”

“My tits jiggle, should make up for my tight little arse.” Becky teased again and then giggled at Barry’s responsive groan. His thumbs pressed up into her ass cleavage, feeling for the hot puckered mouth of her ass hole.

“What about giving head? I’d say that was jailbait’s speciality, next to that meaty ass. She could deep throat a fucking horse with no probs.”

“She is good I’ll give you that. Seen her in action once or twice.”

“Oh yeah? When?!”

“When you fucked her up the bum that time, for one.” Becky said quickly.

She stopped short of admitting she’d been in Barry’s place the night his weapon stash had vanished and had seen Emma’s oral performance then too. He had never put two and two together or suspected Emma about that night, so it seemed and she didn’t want to put ideas in his head.

His fingers slipped down and forward as he pushed a straightened hand between the tops of her thighs, the pad of his thumb resting on her anus while his index finger stroked snugly along the warm groove of her damp vulva.

He groaned again at the feel of the damp feminine heat.

“I’d like to think I could give her a run for her money, though.” Becky continued, adding a deliberate catch in her throat as his fingers stroked along her tender pussy groove. A little upward pitched gasp also slipped into her assertion.

“Interesting. Maybe I should get you two goin’ head to head, so’t speak, judge it for myself. Like a contest.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Em?!” Barry suddenly shouted at the top of his voice. “Where’re you jailbait?!”

Becky couldn’t help but jump slightly.

“In the toilet!” Came a distant, muffled and obviously irritated reply.

“Yer better be cleanin’ out yer shit-hole for me for later!” He shouted back with a lust-drunk laugh.

“Fuck off!”

“Cock teasing cunt.” He murmured to himself.

For a moment he seemed like he was going to get up and head upstairs but Becky stepped in quickly. She wanted Barry to herself, she didn’t want it to become a threesome. Certainly not until she’d cemented her place as Barry’s girlfriend or fuck-chick or whatever he’d call her.

“We don’t need her. You’ve already had your dick sucked by her haven’t you…?” She left the sentence hanging. The implication obvious by its absence.

“More than once. An’ I don’t get tired of it either. You’ve got some’at to live up to you know, sayin’ you’re as good as her.”

“Well it’s for me to prove and you to judge innit.”

She felt his hands pull away from her ass and Becky turned around to find him sitting back on the sofa and shucking the shell suit pants down to his ankles. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and that long thick phallus she’d seen used on Emma was right there, big and obvious like a flagpole, standing upright, swollen hard with desire. All for her to prove herself on. Like a practical exam or something.

“C’mon then. Prove it!” He said with a grin and a dark-lust glint in his glassy eyes.

She slid herself down beside him on the sofa and leaned in close against him, his arm shifted from the sofa back to the top of her head almost at once but he refrained from pushing, at least for the first couple of minutes.

Becky eyed the erect cock, fat and thick and hard, with wild eyes for a moment. She licked her lips then encircled it with one small hand, her thumb and fingers only just met around it’s girth. She had a sudden flashing image of kneeling behind that town centre bus shelter with that smarmy business bloke, Barry’s cock was almost as big as that one had been.

“C’mon, hurry it up.” He grunted, pushing a little on the top of her head.

His other hand passed across her chest giving each of her full breasts an exploratory squeeze.

Becky kept still while he fondled her tits. His palms stroked from one hot orb to the other, thumbs flicking across her stiffened nipples. He squeezed again, letting out a little groan of appreciation and then released the pair and pressed on her head again.

Once he’d released them and given her room to manoeuvre again, she passed her fist up and down the warm hardness a couple of times and then lowered herself face first into his lap and slid her lips over the swollen crown, sucking and licking the mushroom shape that was inside her mouth while she used her lips to anoint the helmet with her saliva.

“It’s not a fucking lollipop, girl, cram it in there! You say you’re better than Emma? Well not so far you’re not! An’ you’re not gonna prove it like that!”

In response, Becky opened her mouth wide and relaxed her throat muscles and then ploughed her face into his crotch in one fast, jerking, noisy descent. She gagged on the meat and forced it deep all the same. She dry retched over it, saliva pooling and rolling down it’s solid heat as it filled and enveloped her mouth and plunged into her throat.

“Oh fuck me!” Barry groaned in wide eyed astonishment, his hips lifted up off the sofa cushion in an automatic reaction and jabbed the leftover inch past the teenager’s suctioning lips.

Becky would have laughed if she had been able. It was just the reaction she had been hoping for.

She got one hand on his heavy scrotum and curled the fore finger and thumb of the other hand around the base of his erection to pinch the hardness securely in place while she started to plunge her face up and down it’s entire length, fast and thorough, making sure her lips met her rooted finger and thumb each and every time she descended and making sure she sucked hard and long on the upward stroke.

In seconds her saliva was glistening on his hard tool, trickling in rivulets to congeal in his matted pubic hair. She forced her face up and down at the same urgent pace, gagging and gulping in lung-fuls of air whenever she could, as long as she didn’t interrupt the flow or the pace of her suck job.

Barry was groaning and panting continually, the hand that wasn’t locked onto the top of her head was locked onto her tits, excitedly groping the heated orbs and pinching the stiff spongy nipples that surmounted them.

This was never going to have taken long, not for someone of Becky’s undeniable talent, but Barry wasn’t about to let her get off so easily. Or let her get away with just giving him a quick five minute blowjob, not by a long shot.

He didn’t speak to her or ask her to stop her sucking, he just grabbed her by the head and pulled her up off his dick them started to pull at her clothes with an aggressive urgency that Becky knew only too well was pure animal lust.

She’d known and experienced that particular sensation in boys and men alike since she’d first had her cherries popped a good few years earlier.

She helped out. Knowing better than trying to slow him down or diffuse his aggression with any kind of confrontation. Besides, her plan was to give him whatever he wanted.

They both stripped her naked in a matter of seconds. Then she let him manhandle her down onto her back on the sofa with her chin pressed to her chest and her knees on either side of her ears, her toes pointed up at the ceiling.

Barry was kneeling in front of her, one hand kneading her buttocks and stroking her anus, the other holding the base of his cock while he bashed it club-like against her soft pouting pussy lips.

Becky twitched and moaned, feeling it but adding a little extra performance to add a little extra empowerment to Barry’s already over blown ego.

“C’mon Mather, fuck me hard. Make me feel it. Bring tears t’my eyes.” She groaned it out, long and ragged. Playing the part, egging him on, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear, what they all wanted to hear.

Dominance and power was everything to men, the way it was supposed to be. Even the apparent nice guys like Nilay, and Barry’s brother Ray, he was just the same underneath. Ray was just as bad as the rest, it was only Emma who chose not to see it.

It didn’t matter what they were like every other time, once their dicks were hard they were animals, just like all the rest.

Barry took a few moments to tease her, pressing the underside ridge of his hardness between her lips, splaying her open with his length but never quite penetrating her. He cock-bashed her anus a couple of times and watched her reaction.

Becky played her part again, showing panic and fear in her eyes and then a touch of resignation. He dry fucked her ass cleavage for a few seconds then bashed his meat against her clit and watched her writhe under him like he was giving her little electric shocks.

He grinned at her response, wide and malicious and then rammed his meat into her, balls deep in one quick surprise hip slam.

She gyrated and gasped, loud and breathless, taken by surprise.

Her back arched, hands snatching at the sofa cushions on either side of her, her eyes screwed up, full naked breasts quivering on her upper chest with the power of his penetration.

He laughed and slammed her with his meat again and again, watching her breasts shudder with his power fucking, mesmerised by her big, soft, young tits like all men were.

Becky made sure she moved along with him, added an extra touch of movement to her breasts and thighs, added a little extra quiver, a little extra volume to her breathy moans, a little more intensity to her creased facial expression.

She remembered a joke from the few days she’d been to school – while most girls practice dance moves in front of the mirror, Oakfield Estate girls practice their sex faces.

She almost laughed at the truth of it and had to disguise the laugh as sudden intensified erotic reaction. Of course that made Barry laugh down at her and fuck her even harder.

Becky started to feel the erotic intensifying begin for real and all too soon the reaction was no longer an act. She felt her juices started to flow more freely around his burning hot, frictioning cock. She grew into the sex, relaxed a little when she realised she was actually enjoying it, at least physically. Her body was enjoying it.

She enjoyed it as much as any of that kind of frantic, hard and aggressive sex that lads constantly fucked her with – for what it was going to pay her in the long run. Drugs, money, prestige and security from the kind of low life bastards that seemed to fill her world.

She grew into her part as she relaxed more, made more noise, the kind that she quickly realised pleased him, stroked his ego. She started to fuck herself back onto him, matching his pace and trying to match his aggression, she watched the beads of sweat trickling down his lean tattooed muscles and drip onto her lightly tanned palpitating flesh.

She wondered how she compared to Emma in his mind. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself but he wasn’t being as cruel and brutish and driven as she had seen him be with Emma or as Emma herself had described.

They changed position after ten minutes of this hard frantic missionary, much to Becky’s relief, as her neck and lower back were killing her.

They basically swapped places, Barry sitting on the sofa, Becky sat on his lap facing him, cock pressed up her while she bounced energetically up and down on it, while his hands switched between fondling her taut ass and her big shuddering tits.

“So, what’ve you been up to with Emma since we sorted you out with her? Been enjoyin’ yourself?” She asked in between horny gasps, circular gyrating hips and up and down humping.

“Fucking right I ‘ave!” He groaned, and Becky could swear his erection hardened even more at the mention of Emma’s name.

“Well, when I get the chance, but so far I haven’t had too many chances.”

He went silent for a few seconds while he leaned forward to catch one of Becky’s nipples between his lips and sucked at it and then bite it, none too gently, with his uneven and cigarette stained teeth.

“How come?” Becky urged, trying not to let the pain he was inflicting on her breasts into her voice.

“Dunno. She sticks to our Ray like fucking glue, don’t give me no chance to get me hands on her, the cock teasing slut! And then she always seems t’be out the door the second he’s out the house.”

“You’ll just have to be quicker then won’t you!” She teased.

Barry stuck his tongue out lewdly and Becky leaned forward to suck it. She felt his middle finger, the nail broken and a little jagged playing with her anus. Then she whimpered as he pushed it up her to the first knuckle. Barry sniggered and twisted his finger, basting her rectum.

She continued to gyrate her slender hips, playing with his fully embedded cock and sucking at his tongue while he finger fucked her anus and pulled on her hard nipples in turn.

Becky released his tongue and returned to bouncing on his solid erection.

“Got a great idea though. Really mess her up it will, the little jailbait cock teasing slut.” He grunted.

“What’s that then?” She asked, enjoying the warm erotic flush that was starting to flow upwards from her loins to her cheeks.

“Our kid’s said they’re gonna be trying fer a baby. What I’m gonna do is get in there before him, fucking knock the jailbait slut up with my sprog. Then I’ll really have her over a fucking barrel.”

Becky didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t have any particular warmth for Emma but she thought that was a bit fucking harsh. She didn’t say anything, just grinned at him and raised her delicate eyebrows, hoping she looked impressed.

“Gonna be fucking shit loads of fun getting it done too! Shootin’ my load up her ass and down her throat is one thing, but fuckin’ spraying her cunt? When she’s off the pill an’ all? Fuck me! Makes me well fucking horny it does. Just the thought of it. And she’ll be shit scared and won’t do nothin’ about it for fear’a upsetting our kid’s family plans. So she’ll just fucking take it, won’t she!” He laughed.

His eyes glinted, thoughts elsewhere, in future fantasies.

“I’m just gonna have to be on the ball in picking opportunities to fuck her.” He added.

“You mean working out when she’s what d’yer call it? Gestatin?”

“What the fuck’re you on about?” He looked confused.

“You never did sex-ed at school?”

“Shut the fuck up bitch!” He snarled at her and gave her ass a hearty slap. Becky went cold. Had she already fucked up her chance by showing him up as just another ignorant fuck?

“Tell you, the only sex education I paid any attention to at school was pimpin’ out first years and getting Prefect gash for weed! …Fucking Gestation.” Barry snarled.

However, he was laughing as he replied, not angered and Becky breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m gonna be makin’ sure our kid gets nothing but sloppy seconds until she’s got a fat belly with my fucking sprog growin’ in her.”


Emma had locked herself securely in the bathroom upstairs. Lights off, scented candles lit. She was trying to enjoy a long luxurious bath while Barry and Becky were fucking noisily downstairs.

She was also trying to forget how horny this would all be making Barry and the possibility that she might get dragged into their sexual escapades at any time during the night. She just had to trust Becky to keep that monster to herself until Ray got home the day after tomorrow.

She lay back in the bubbly fragrant water with the tea-lights clustered at the corners of the white plastic tub with a flannel over her eyes, casually reminiscing about her first time with Ray while the warmth of the water and the popping bubbles and the perfumes played across her naked young flesh.

It had been his birthday, only a few days after they had started dating and not having money to spend on a proper present, she had decided to give herself to him as his present. And to give herself completely. To show him what she intended and so he’d have something to unwrap, she bought and gift wrapped a big box of condoms, a tub of Vaseline, and ‘borrowed’ a butt plug and a ring gag from her uncle’s sex-toy stash. She added a carefully worded note with each prop to assure he understood that she was going to let him pop each of her cherries for his birthday. She had even spent the week leading up to the big day teaching herself how to deep throat on the little vibrator he had bought her on their first date and then on a banana once she decided the vibrator was too small…

A sudden loud wailing, mixed in with Barry’s telltale orgasm growl sounded louder and closer than Emma would have liked and it snapped her out of her warm reverie like the snap of a wet towel. But she analysed the sounds and decided they were definitely still downstairs in the living room.

She lay there listening for a while, her heart hammering behind her ribs, little bubbles bursting pleasantly against her water stiffened nipples. She could hear the obvious and illustrative silky, wet gagging sounds of a deep throat blow job. That all too familiar wet squelching rhythm that sketched an image in her mind of Becky sitting on the sofa while Barry stood over her both hands holding her head steady while he hip hammered his cock in and out of her tightly sucking mouth, drool flowing down her chin to those envy inducing boobs of hers.

The image was snatched away by renewed noise from Becky. High pitched throaty gasping, almost pain filled, loud and ongoing and getting louder.

It reminded Emma of that time Barry had followed her into the shower and fucked her with Ray only a few feet away, dozing in their bed. She looked up and realised she was in that same bathroom right now, looking up at the shower head where he’d fucked her so cruelly. She closed her eyes, took a breath and then ducked her head under the water, trying to disassociate herself from the environment, from her senses.

She forced her memory back to Ray’s birthday. She’d got him a candlelit KFC and some Lambrini from the local spa, she had had to let the lad behind the counter feel up her tits before he’d sell her the alcohol but that was nothing new. She’d got off lightly with just a groping by all accounts.

There had been excitement and nerves and a bit of apprehension in the air, it hadn’t helped her keep the meal down, butterflies and fear never helped with her appetite, the banoffee pie for afters had helped though. And then she had led him upstairs to give him his presents, all three of them.

Ray had enjoyed himself thoroughly and with relish. He had hurt her in the process but she hadn’t cared much, in her mind his acceptance of her offer was his acceptance of her as his girlfriend, for good.

Her introduction to sex had in itself been painful and awkward but still, he had been loyal and attentive ever since.

The blow job had been the best, after nearly swallowing the banana, his cock, though none too small, had proved easy and he was quick to climax. She hadn’t anticipated the smell and taste of his cum but she’d swallowed it all without a thought. It had never occurred to her to spit, she just gulped it all down naturally.

Then the vaginal sex had been slightly painful and slightly messy. The condoms had been on the small size and hadn’t been easy to slide on so they’d ended up going without. Luckily he’d had enough experience and self control to pull out and shoot his second load all over her breasts and stomach. Still, she’d quietly worried for the next three weeks whether she was pregnant or not.

Of course loosing her anal cherry had been horrible, but she had been determined to go through with her promise, so she’d got onto her hands and knees and buried her face in the pillow, let him hammer away how ever he had wanted and hoped her tears and crying and muffled moans of pain wouldn’t put him off.

They didn’t seem to, or he had assumed the noise was all pleasure induced. Either way he had fucked her up the ass from behind for an agonising period that had seemed to last forever. But it was a time he had obviously thoroughly enjoyed, slapping her buttocks and clutching at her dangling pendulous breasts until he tugged himself free of her ass hole and shot a huge load, with a lion’s roar, up over her lithe back in a half-dozen series of thick hot spunk streamers that caught at the nape of her neck and splattered right down her back all the way onto her ruddy and bruised bottom.

She’d been bleeding and sore for days afterwards but Ray had shown his appreciation in a number of ways in the weeks that had followed. That very evening, in fact, they’d showered together and he’d washed her gently all over with a new soft sponge and a lot of tender lathering and then he’d fingered her to a gentle orgasm. Even though in actual fact she’d faked it, as her arse had been throbbing so much and her pussy had still been too tender. But she hadn’t wanted to spoil his birthday, so she’d pretended.

They’d fucked a lot from then on. On a daily basis at the very least, most days three or four times, sometimes five or six, especially in the first few months.

And to begin with he’d revealed the voracious desire to butt fuck her and she’s silently taken the torture three or four times a week, at least.

However, eventually it had finally dawned on Emma that her anus was best offered as a reward or on a special occasion, and she’d subtly started to drawn him away from wanting to fuck her in the arse all the time, it had taken time, his lust for her ass had been hard to temper and she’d had to weigh her desire to please him with her need to not have a sore arse all the time.

She’d developed her deep throat technique instead to lure him away and get him off more quickly, after that it had all gone swimmingly.

And now that fuck-head Barry was trying to mess things up for her again. And she had no idea how to deal with him. She only hoped Becky’s plan would work out. To their mutual benefit.


Becky had climaxed on Barry’s hard pummelling cock, casting a flurry of her hot sticky juices over his naked crotch and wailing a furious cannonade of orgasmic noise as she did so.

She had been surprised at how hard she’d cum and how much juice had erupted from her boiling cunt. He had reached his climax a few seconds later. He’d hauled his cock out of her tight little oven and pushed her off him, wheeled her around so she was sat on the sofa and then clambered up until his throbbing glistening erection levelled itself at her mouth and then thrust forward, even as Becky was panting in the breathless afterglow of her orgasm.

He slammed his dick home and hurriedly fucked her throat while she gagged and struggled for breath, but Barry was too close to orgasm to care and he throat fucked her until he came heavily and loudly and she swallowed it all without breaking a sweat.

Then he slumped back on the sofa, satisfied for the time being.

Becky knew that this would be the time to show her talent. She gathered her strength and a mouthful of saliva and went to give his cock an oral bath.

She washed it clean, licking the mingled cum residues away and being gentle with her tongue, playing at his shaft with soft lapping caresses, working the tip of her tongue under and around his foreskin. She gently eased his thighs apart and knelt between them, hoisted her young breasts into place and rested his semi softened phallus into their cushioning softness while she gently licked and cleaned him.

As she knew it would, her attentions started a stirring in his loins and then in his attention. He felt the pleasurable sensations and his dick started to harden again. Becky took that as her cue to up the ante a little, she shifted up from gentle licking caresses to starting a full on and saliva heavy blow job. Closing her hot lips around the crown and sliding her mouth down and up, further down and up, all the way down and up. Slicking her saliva over the shaft all the while, letting it trickle and pool onto his scrotum and her own breasts.

He started to pant and moan softly, his eyes half open, tired but watchful, and certainly enjoying her talented ministrations.

Becky shifted gear again and brought her warm wet cleavage into play, enclosing the fully hard shaft in her breasts and working the soft warm orbs up and down the shaft, all the while listening to Barry’s moans intensifying and watching his eyes open fully to observe what the hot young chav babe was doing for him unbidden.

She picked up the pace, bouncing her upper body, sliding her breasts up and down, masturbating his erection with her fantastic teenage tits. All too soon it became too much for Barry and he groaned loud and hoarse and jerked up with his bony hips.

Becky worked her breasts up and down one last time and then shoved her face down to catch the shaft. She took it deep into her mouth, right as he climaxed, massaging his tense scrotum with her breasts while she sucked and swallowed over and over again.

And still she wasn’t done. She brought him snacks and drinks without request, let him doze for a while using the time to nip to the downstairs toilet to clean herself up and then woke him with yet a another blow job, this time she stuck a finger in his ass and massaged his prostate with a professional touch until he blasted her throat with his cum yet again.

She continued the prostate massage and used her other hand on his ball sack until he was hard again. By this time she could see how impressed he was with her and she knew she had him, she knew she was his.

“You’ve made out you like fucking girls up the arse. How ’bout doing mine now?” She suggested with a glint in her eye.

“Huh?” He was still tired, even though wide awake.

“Here and now. I can take it. You want my arse?”

“Fucking yeah I do! Sure! Get on your hands and knees and bite down on that cushion or something. Might make you my regular piece if you take this well. You’re a damn good fuck Becks. For a kid…”

She took up position at one end of the sofa and he knelt behind her and lined up his erection, pinching the shaft tight just beneath the ruddy swollen crown.

“…But I always said kids are the best for taking it, nice tight bodies…”

He pushed forward and lodged the crown into place, enjoying the tightness and relative ease of Becky’s anal mouth allowing him access.

“…Enthusiastic. Easy to fuck. Do whatever you want. Not little kids mind. I’m no fucking Paedo, legally fuckable teenagers I mean.”

Then he grunted and shoved forward hard. Becky winced and gritted her teeth. A little groan of pained exertion escaped her lips. A third of his thick hard shaft slid abruptly inside her anus and then stopped.

“…There’s none of that, I’m not doing that, it’s dirty, I don’t do that kinda shit, crap that older bitches come out with…”

He thrust again, digging his fingers into Becky’s tight firm buttocks and forced another third up her ass.

“…It’s just, yes Mister Mather. Whatever you want Barry. Anything at all Barry, and they take it and they’re fuckin’ happy about it…”

As if to prove his mutterings he slammed the last third of his hard on up Becky, who whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut tight and, as bidden, bit down on the cushion that her face was pressed down into.

“Oh that’s good and hot and tight. I’m likin’ you Becks. Likin’ you a lot. Now then, let’s see about busting a nut up there.”

He grunted what might have been a laugh and unceremoniously started to batter her anus with his straining erection, slamming against her taut buttocks, hooking his hands around her slender waist to haul her back onto his aggressive driving shaft.

Becky breathed through the pain, biting into the cushion and trying not to cry. She thought about the drugs and the money and that she would only need to take this off Barry and Barry alone from now on. No one else would touch her.

Well, maybe he wouldn’t stand up against someone like her mum’s loan-shark bloke but as far as the estate lads went she’d be off limits from now on.

It lasted an hour. A long and torturous hour, and she practically passed out when he was approaching his climax. He went at her like some demented freak from a mental home. Growling senseless obscenities, slapping her taut buttocks again and again, even slapping at the back of her head, pulling at her hair, scratching and tugging at her low swinging breasts until, at long last, his dam burst and he fired off another plentiful load up her. The climax was long and noisy and hot and Becky found herself commiserating with what Emma had been put through over the last few months.

She could feel the thick ropes of his erupting seed striking like burning serpents inside her cock mangled guts.

Finally, he slumped heavily over her back, his hips still pummelling her buttocks all the while, but she couldn’t take his weight and she collapsed underneath him. They lay like that together, exhausted, numb and pain-racked all at the same time.

Eventually, almost surprisingly, as she had half expected him to fall asleep on top of her, Barry rolled away and curled up at the other end of the sofa with a yawn and a little contented smile on his face.

By the time Becky had limped to the bathroom, cleaned herself up and come back to the living room, he was snoring loudly, peacefully and satisfied. And Becky was certain he was securely under her spell.


Breakfast was at 10.30 the following morning. Normal time for Barry and Becky but very late for Emma. Barry had tried testing Becky’s dedication to him by ordering her to make him breakfast, full English, cereal, orange juice, coffee, the works. Becky didn’t cook and never had. Her mum did all that and when she wasn’t available Jeni took up kitchen duties. Becky’s extent at breakfast was buying a Subway or Maccie-Dee’s.

Emma basically had to take over and do the work. But she was glad to as the alternative that Barry

insisted on pushing Becky into sickened her.

“You can’t cook?! What can you do?”

“I can fuck. As you fucking well found out last night.” Becky had countered with a wink, but to Emma she sounded a little pleading.

“Okay then how ’bout we go upstairs? I’ve always wanted to get my dick sucked while I’m squeezing one out on’t bog. The jailbait can make breakfast while I’m emptyin’ my shitter and you’re emptyin’ my balls.”

“S’ppose.” Becky agreed easily enough, but the disgust and resignation was plain in her suddenly pale face.

Emma’s and Becky’s eyes met as Barry grabbed her hand and led her to the staircase Emma pulled a repulsed face and Becky rolled her eyes in response but mouthed ‘done worse’ to the younger brunette.

Cooking breakfast for Barry was no doubt the lesser of two evils, and Emma cooked breakfast for Ray most weekend mornings and brought it to him in bed, so she was used to the timing and had all the ingredients to hand.

She could even hear the repulsive grunting, straining noises from upstairs. And couldn’t help picturing Barry sitting on the toilet with his pants round his ankles noisily emptying his bowels, straining and gritting his teeth with the effort while Becky, on her knees, her hands clutching his thighs with her head urgently bobbing up and down over his crotch. Maybe her loose hair falling between his thighs into the bowl beneath.

She’d be exerting herself, trying to suck him to the quickest climax of his life so she could breathe in some fresh air and get the fuck away from the smell.

Emma almost felt herself retching at the mere thought of it. While Becky was upstairs actually doing it.

“Fuck! Jesus! Fuck!! Suck it! Suck it! Work it bitch! Hhhrrrr… C’mon you were better than this last night. Get it together! Harder, get down there, get your throat around it! Ggggrrrr… Take it all the way down and hold it there… Arrrrgghh, Yeah! That’s more fuckin’ like it!!”

Emma cringed at the excessive straining sounds that intercut his commands to Becky. She could almost, disgustedly, believe she could hear a series of heavy plopping noises too but she tried to blank out the sounds.

Barry made more noise, straining, curses and growls of so called encouragement to Becky and then Emma could hear the unmistakable sound of heavy, wet gagging, rhythmic and loud and painful sounding.

A minute after the gagging sounded, Barry’s straining noise shifted up to a rising orgasmic growl, that reached a quick crescendo of obviously orgasmic groans and curses, and then silence, which was in turn followed by a strangely anti-climatic sound of the toilet being flushed.

A few minutes later Barry and Becky reappeared. He was all smiles and satisfaction, grunting happily that he was ready for his breakfast and took Ray’s usual seat at the head of the small breakfast table set against one wall of the small kitchen.

Becky, on the other hand, looked numb, unkempt and a little green around the gills. She went into a cupboard, seemingly at random, found a half full bottle of vodka and necked it all down in one go.

She was wearing her shell suit top again from the previous day, this time zipped up to the throat, but she had borrowed a little flared cotton miniskirt from Emma that went with the white and blue shell suit and showed off her long slender legs nicely.

They sat down around the table while Emma served up Barry’s cooked breakfast. The girl’s just drank orange juice and Emma had a bowl of Frosties. Becky muttered that the juice was enough for her and that didn’t think she’d be able to keep anything else down.

“Emma and me were chatting yesterday. We were thinkin’ about asking your kid for a few drivin’ lessons. Buses are shit ’round ‘ere.” Becky commented thickly around sips of orange juice.

“Really? Lotta lads I know’ve said they’re good for a laugh. Say you get a lotta slags usein’ ‘em to get ‘emselves a bit’a rough. That you can get a good few fucks out’a a bus ride after dark.”

The girl’s said nothing to that, heads lowered. Barry shrugged and went back to ripping at his sausage and bacon with his fork with a little knowing smile.

“…Anyway if you wanna learn t’drive. There’s no need to wait fer our kid t’come back. I can take you out fer a drive Em, we’ll go over to Lovecraft park. Park up. You can make up a picnic. And I can give you a couple’a lessons in’t car park there.”

His double entendre was obvious to all three of them. Lovecraft Park was a council run nature reserve that had long since been run down. The manmade lake was polluted and now nothing more than the haunt of jobless losers who spent their days fishing and drinking cheap lager. The car park was notorious for dogging and worse. Hence Barry’s comments.

And that was only during the day. At night it was a lawless haunt that you didn’t dare walk through in less than a gang of a half dozen or more. Drug deals and estate gang fights were common place.

It was also the place Estate girlfriends were taken to when they were grabbed in snatch drive-by’s by other gangs. They were taken there after night fall and gang raped, and then tied to a picnic table for free use. They’d either be discovered there the following morning and if they were lucky an ambulance would be called.

On rare occasions, the girl would be driven back to her home turf and shoved out of the car.

Becky considered herself very fortunate never to have been targeted, she had known of at least five girls from Oakfield it had happened to, one of which was now on a mental ward and another had died in hospital.

“No thanks, Ray’s more patient. And I’d rather not take his car anywhere without asking him first.”

“Couldn’t you text him and ask him?” Becky suggested. “I wanna driving lesson too.”

“I suppose I could. If you’re coming along. And as long as we don’t go anywhere near that park.” Emma said, perking up almost straight away.

“That’s settled then. You get the keys and whatever else you need. I’ve just gotta grab something from the other room, I need to drop off on the way.” Barry said, while he picked up the breakfast plate and licked the residue egg yoke and ketchup from the rim.



Barry insisted Emma sit in the front passenger seat alongside him while he drove them to a commercial district with quiet and often deserted roads. Becky sat glumly in the back, though she leaned insistently forward, trying to physically insinuate herself between the Navy blue Corsa’s two front seats.

“Where were goin?” Becky asked.

“Belltower Park. There won’t be much traffic, just the occasional truck, and you can drive up and down the streets without getting hassled and shit. Should be a good place to learn the basics.” Barry replied.

“Plus, I’m dropping something off for a mate who’s up near there.”

“Like what?” Becky asked.

“Never you mind.”

Becky was watching Barry. His eyes were constantly darting between the road and Emma who sat beside him as far to the left as she could get on the passenger seat, sort of pushed up against the door, with her denim covered legs crossed and her hands folded demurely in her lap.

Becky didn’t like how Barry was distracted by Emma’s proximity, so she unzipped her shell suit top down to her navel and allowed her full breasts to push forth in their vest top and fill the space between the front seats of the old Corsa.

Now Barry’s attention was flicking between the road, Emma, and her own delectable cleavage, visible in the rear view mirror, once he had adjusted it. She smiled to herself.

Emma wore a little loose top in navy blue that had a band of elastic under her bust to cinch the pleated fabric to her small but pert breasts, under the bust the cotton was loose and flowed down it to her hips. It had thin straps that hooked over her shoulders. Over the top she had a little fake Filo jacket with a fur lined collar and padded with a stitched diamond pattern.

“Oh fuck me! Not them two bastard fuckin’ cunts! Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Barry suddenly cursed.

He spat out the words like venom, his voice wavering and high pitched, sounding as much afraid as annoyed. At least, that’s what Becky thought.

“What? What’sup?” She asked him, then snapped her own curse as Barry abruptly turned left with a squeal of skidding tyres, whipped the Corsa up the nearest side street, yanked around again to slide into the mouth of an alley that formed the high fenced backs of two rows of terraced houses and then slammed on the brakes.

Before Becky could right herself or ask again what was going on, Barry was out of the car, leaving the driver’s door wide open, and sprinting off down the alleyway, over one of the fences into some random house’s back garden and out of sight.

“What the fuck?!” Becky gasped.

Becky watched Barry go with numb incredulity then leaned forward and tried shutting the driver’s door.

“No idea. He’s fucking lost it. Maybe he’s high or something.” Emma replied with an unsurprised sigh.

“Maybe. Maybe he’s having hallucinations. Seeing giant rabbits or some shit.”

Becky couldn’t reach the door. Instead, she got out and sat herself in the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut behind her. Preparing to take over driving duty as best she could. Then something stopped her.

“Or flying pigs?” Emma added with a little giggle.

“No, not flying. Pigs though. Yeah.” Becky replied with a crestfallen tone.

She was looking in the rear view mirror. Emma looked back over her shoulder.

“Oh fuck me.” She groaned.

A police patrol car from the Local Urban Neighbourhood Policing Team’s had turned up the same side street and pulled up behind Ray’s car. The girl’s looked at each other with wide frightened eyes, but neither of them dared move a muscle.

“Oh, Jesus. Is that who I think it is?” Emma asked.

“Officer Rod and Officer Bull.” Becky groaned. “You met them before?”

“No, just heard about them. You?”

“Kind of. They came round to my house once when I got in trouble but I managed to slip out while they were at the front door. So I got away with it. But they were at my house for a couple of hours. I’m pretty sure they both shagged my mum.”

“What do we do?” Emma asked, fear evident in her soft voice.

“You fucking joking? We keep our mouths shut and do whatever we’re told! Just keep your cool and hope they’re in a good mood.”

The girls sat there in the car watching the officers behind them through the side and rear view mirrors. They were just sitting there for ages, not doing anything.

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” Becky was muttering to herself under her breath. But it was making Emma nervous.

“What are they doing back there?” She whined, turning to look back at the patrol car from over her shoulder.

Trying to force her own jittery-ness away, Becky shifted in her seat and stared into the mirror.

“Checking the number plate, see if the car’s reported stolen. Anyone from the estate in a car and they assume we’re joy riding. Bastards! Though I suppose most of the time it’s probably true. Just sit still and wait for ‘em to come to us.”

Emma nodded and went quiet.

It was another minute before one of the two officers, both hatless, in uniform with fluorescent stab vests, shoulder mounted radio’s and utility belts, with the usual telescoping baton and handcuff pouches at their waists, got out of the patrol car and approached. The other officer joined his partner a few seconds later.

Both were of African descent though they had local accents. And both were huge, bodybuilder shaped and shaven headed.

And, as Becky had mentioned, the name plates on their stab vest flaps identified them as Officers Bull and Rod, supposedly that was their real names.

Emma found it a little strange but she couldn’t quite crack a smile as Bull stood by her window, blocking out the dull daylight and looking down at her with a stern, sour expression and eyes aflame with, at least according to estate gossip, perpetual lust.

“Alright, Officer Rod?” Becky said to the officer standing at her window, trying to look sweet but not quite managing to mask her fear or her distaste.

“You know why you’ve been pulled over?” The tall, well muscled, dark skinned policeman asked coldly.

He was stern but remained just short of aggressive. His eyes looked lost in Becky’s on display cleavage.

Emma could feel her heart hammering behind her own perky young breasts. And she could almost feel Bull’s eyes burning their way through her own clothing.

“I suppose we could have been speeding. I don’t know.” Becky muttered.

She was well aware that they hadn’t actually been pulled over but there was no way she was going to argue with this guy.

“You don’t know.” Rod repeated matter-of-factly.

He bent a little lower and then cast his cold gaze slowly and deliberately over Emma. His eyes following her curves as well. Then he turned that icy gaze back to Becky.

“Do you have a driver’s licence? And don’t fucking lie to me. I have a link to the DMV in my car, I already know the answer.”

“Then why ask?” Becky murmured and regretted it even as the words tumbled out of her full lips.

“You gonna give me cheek?! You’re gonna sit there and give me fucking cheek?! I should hit you in the face with my pepper spray just for that!”

“I’m sorry, I… Please, I.”

“Shut up! You haven’t got a licence and you’re damn fucking sure not gonna have any insurance! I can impound your vehicle for that!”

Emma baulked at that. The thought of Ray coming home to find his car impounded by the police was too much.

“Please, you can’t do that. Please, it’s my boyfr…”

“Shut up you little bitch! I’m talking to young Miss Taylor here, not you! I don’t know you and until I do know you, you’re gonna stay quiet. Like a fucking mouse. Got it?!”

Emma winced, the colour draining from her cheeks. She nodded and then bowed her head and stared down at her feet.

“Right young Miss Taylor, you’re gonna step out of the vehicle aren’t you. You’re gonna walk slowly around to the front and place your hands on the bonnet aren’t you.” Then he bent and glared at Emma, she glanced back at him, big brown eyes wide with fear, tears beginning to form in the corners. “You. You’re gonna stay put and stay quiet.”

Emma nodded and then got busy looking at her feet again. Rod straightened up and looked across at his partner from over the top of the old Corsa.

“Make sure she stays put.” Rod said, nodding down to indicate Emma. Bull just gave a nod of assent.

“Right young Miss Taylor, out you come.” He said and then stepped back and swung the driver’s side door open.

He watched her with hawk eyes, horny hawk eyes. He watched her swing herself slowly toward the door legs first, the movement hiking up her cotton mini skirt dramatically, then she leaned forward and threw him a casual eyeful of her deep and creamy, mouth-watering cleavage, aided by a push up bra that might well have been a size too small.

She rose and angled herself out of the car, around the open door and over to the bonnet, tossing her ponytail of dark hair as she passed the watchful officer. Rod followed her a pace behind, his eyes on the flair of her skirt as her long tanned legs drew him after her.

She stopped, facing the windscreen, bent from the waist and placed her palms on the still warm, metallic-navy bonnet. She looked back at Rod from over her shoulder, defiant but expressionless.

“Spread your legs apart. I have to check you for concealed items.” Officer Rod instructed coldly, momentarily keeping his distance.

“Do you have anything you want to tell me about before I start? Anything sharp in your pockets? Knife? Razor blade? Needles? Anything I should be made aware of?” He asked.

“No, nothing.” Becky shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Take off your shoes and socks and put ‘em on the bonnet.”

Becky looked at the police officer, incredulity obvious on her blank expression.

“Do it now.” Rod said firmly.

Becky, leaving one hand on the bonnet for support, reached down as she lifted one foot, hooked off her pink and white knock-off Nike’s and then slid off the little stripped day-glow ankle sock. She pushed the sock into the trainer and then put the trainer on the bonnet and repeated the sequence with her other hand and other foot.

Rod picked up the garments and passed them to Bull who quickly went back to their patrol car and threw the trainers into the rear passenger side foot well. And then took up position again outside Emma’s car door.

“Now, let’s find out what you do have.” Rod said once he’d looked over Becky again, barefoot on the rain damp and cold tarmac of the alley.

He stepped closer and then tapped the inside of Becky’s bare calf with the instep of a booted foot.

“Spread, spread ‘em wider.”

Becky, shivering, dutifully followed his instructions until he seemed satisfied.

“Here we go…” He commented and then put his hands on her shoulders and felt along the sleeves of her shell suit top.

He started professionally enough and Becky allowed herself a foolish second of false hope that it would all turn out okay in the end. Of course, the false hope died a death as Rod’s hands slid assuredly down her waist to her mini skirt, and then under it.

“Not much under here.” He muttered, apparently responding to the skimpy thong she wore underneath. His fingers momentarily stroking the cool, smooth flesh of her taut young buttocks.

Becky could feel the hot, rough, calloused skin of his palms and fingers closing on the outer curves of her hips and upper thighs, then the thumbs slid inward, following the perky curve of the underside of her ass cheeks. His hands roved over her thong framed ass for a few seconds before they slid out from under her skirt up over her waist and then tugged the zip of her shell suit top free and threw apart the front flaps. His hands felt along her abdomen and ribs quickly, went up and down her back and then reached around again and caught hold of her big, heavy breasts through her vest.

Becky breathed a little more heavily but didn’t expect anything less from a police pat-down, she neither complained or squirmed. Even as his hands pulled up the lower hem of her vest top, lifting and bunching the garment up onto her chest and then scooped the bra cups away, exposing her big tits to the cool air.

She felt her nipples tensing at once with the change in temperature, and she heard Rod’s breath catch in his throat as his palms came up to cup the pendulous twin orbs of her soft warm flesh, the hardening nipples pressing like little flames into his palms.

Unlike the more streetwise Becky, Emma both complained and squirmed. She winced at the plain in her face view of Officer Rod hauling Becky’s tits out into the open and mauling them in his big, calloused hands. Her eyes went wide in a near panic and she whipped her pale face up towards Officer Bull’s who was still standing by her passenger side window but had his eyes fixed on Becky’s luscious tits too.

“What’s he doing? He can’t do that it’s against the law!” She moaned.

“‘Course it’s not, he’s searching her.”

“He’s copping a feel is what he’s doing!”

“I say he’s searching her. You don’t say anything.”

“Becky? You okay?” Emma called through the windscreen.

The other brunette glanced up, a slight flush to her cheeks, her eyes a little glazed, she blew out a lungful

of air as Rod’s hands squeezed firmly on her large breasts.

“Yeah, just… Shut up will you, Em?”


Then Rod’s gaze lifted at that and he cast a sudden severe look straight through the windscreen, the threat in his eyes boring straight into Emma’s.

“You be quiet. Listen to your hot friend and keep your fucking mouth shut. One more word outta you and you’ll be out here too!”

Emma actually put a hand to her lips in shocked reaction. An effective, if incidental, acceptance of the order. Rod smiled and brought his full attention back to Becky’s young teenage body.

“What are you after? What do you want?” Becky whimpered.

Rod had released one full breast, grabbed them both in his remaining hand, squeezing them together passionately and his freed hand was back under her skirt again, this time wrapping the gusset of her thong around his fingers from between her taut buttocks.

He was going to start trying to rip her knickers off any minute, Becky knew. Something else she was well used to during the usual weekend parties around Oakfield.

“What? Whatever you’ve got offer!”

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I’m getting what I want right here, you dumb chav bitch. You know what though, I don’t feel satisfied quiet yet.” He let go of her thong and grabbed her long smooth pony tail instead and yanked her head back and around. “Get down there.” He grunted.

She knew well enough what he was referring to. She opened her mouth to wince at him pulling on her hair, but he threw another of those silencing looks at her.

“Don’t even say it. Just shut the fuck up and get on your knees.” He grunted.

“I haven’t done anything! I don’t even have anything on me!” Becky complained, despite herself.

With the officer pushing her down via a big strong hand on one shoulder, Becky slid awkwardly down into a kneeling position in front of him.

“Well, you’re gonna have something in you. Right now. Don’t make me start counting or you’ll really fucking regret it.”

With a sigh, she reached up for the zipper of the already bulging crotch of his heavy duty, black uniform trousers. His controlling hand moved with anticipation, from the grip on her shoulder to the back of her head and he slid possessive fingers into her pony tail and took a firm grasp of her.

The zip wasn’t easy to work, it was heavy metal and the bulge behind it was tenting the front to the extreme but Becky had unzipped more pairs of trousers than she cared to think about in her short active sexual history and she managed it well enough. There didn’t seem to be any underwear and the ebony meat within was like a coiled salami. She actually had to reach in and unroll the fat, hot shaft to get it out of his trouser crotch and into the open.

Then, with one hand cupping the huge heavy ball sack and the other gripping tight to the root of the thick, vein adorned length of meat, Becky filled her mouth with saliva, tilted her head back a little and then, trying to ignore the anxious fast pounding of her heart, pushed herself face first onto the engorged ten inches of thick ebony phallus.

Her jaw had to stretch a little and the cock was probably equal to the largest she’d been introduced to in the past but it did barely fit into her mouth. She tasted it, the weight and heat pressing down on her tongue, against the sides of her mouth and her soft palette and then she pushed herself deeper onto it and started to gag as it pressed against the entrance to her tight throat.

Officer Rod got her past the gagging reflex, as she knew he would, by loosing patience and using his grip of her ponytail to drive the rest of his length into her mouth and down her throat, with a long deep groan of dominant pleasure.

Emma heard the horrible, noisy, wet, gagging sound and saw a struggling reaction in Becky’s head and shoulders which were still visible above the bonnet of the old Corsa, Becky’s arms came into view, reaching and grabbing tight on the officer’s hips. She knew what was going on, but even so, she panicked a little.

“Becky?” She called out, and then she caught Officer Rod’s snap reaction and knew she’d made a mistake.

“Right!” He snarled. “That’s it! Bring her out here! Put her right here next to her little cock sucking friend!”

Officer Bull whipped open the passenger side door and reached in, grabbing Emma by the upper arm

“Get out right now you little slut.” He grunted in a deep booming voice and then smoothly pulled her clear of the car and straight to her feet. He didn’t hurt her at all but it gave her no illusions that she was going to be doing whatever they said.

All the while her eyes were locked to Becky, whose mouth was stretched and struggling to accommodate the large erection she was being made to blow.

Rod was grunting and snarling horny little instructions as he used the hand in her hair to guide and control her quick, liberal deep throating.

“Suck… Suck… Suck. You don’t give me what I want, I’m just gonna take it. And I’m not the gentle type, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Wait, what the fuck is that?!” Bull boomed, looking just under the front of the river’s seat from his vantage point through the wide open passenger side door. He released Emma’s arm and stooped, leaning over the passenger seat and snatching up what turned out to be a plastic food bag full of a pristine white powder.

“Coke?! Oh you’re fucking in for it now! Rod! Look at this shit!” He held up the bag until Rod’s gaze came up, focussed and then darkened even more.

“Well well well.” He said.

“It’s not ours!” Emma stammered, a little panicky. “Barry Mather was driving, he must’ve…”

“We saw exactly who was driving! Banging you two chav sluts is he? What’s the deal? Cash or gash and you’re giving up the gash?” Rod snapped.

“Trying to hide coke from us and you said you didn’t have anything!”

Bull shook his head in mock sadness as he deposited the bag of powder into a back pocket of his stab vest. Then he pushed Emma ahead of him toward the front of the car.

“Well, we was just gonna go with some nice sucking action, but now, after having this stuff on you and lying about it, you’re both gonna get it up the arse!” Rod grunted as he put his other hand onto Becky’s head, holding her head in both hands palms against her temples, fingers digging into her mussed up hair, and he started to fuck her face.

Emma was walked, with a huge shovel size hand in the middle of her back, up to the bonnet of the car. Rod caught her eye and growled at her while Bull moved his hand to the nape of her neck.

“You get down there, right there! ” Rod pointed to the space of tarmac alongside Becky. Emma was gratified at least to see no broken glass, or sharp stones or mud or dog shit.

“You keep sucking! Keep sucking!” He snapped at Becky, who had tried to twist her head enough to see Emma but he used his grip of her head to pull her back to face his embedded shaft and then thrust it all the way back in again.

“Mmm, oh yeah! Suck it, suck on it you fucking little chav whore. Suck on it. Suck.”

Bull stopped Emma from kneeling beside Becky. He squeezed at the nape of her neck a little and she looked up at him, towering over her by at least a foot, with wide eyes.

“I’m going to need to search you first, hands on the bonnet. Keep your legs together though.” Emma obediently took up the position, she didn’t dare try anything and the officers knew it. “You carrying anything you shouldn’t?”

“No.” Emma whimpered.

His hands slid perversely over her fleshy curves, not even a pretence at professionalism. He stroked her hourglass waist line from underarms to hips, reached around to stroke the soft slender bulge of her belly, then upwards over the flesh to her small breasts, squeezing the not quite handful orbs and thumbing her already prominent nipples, breathing heavily as he did so, pressing his hard intimidating frame against her as he felt her up.

“Keep this fucking dick in your mouth, keep it in your mouth, keep it there.” Rod was snarling as he fed Becky his whole length yet again and then let go of her head, “Work your fucking tongue! Suck on it!”

Bull’s hands finally slid around from Emma’s perky breasts, travelled down her arched back to her ass, he closed both huge hands onto her buttocks and squeezed, letting out a little moan as his fingers pressed into the soft pertness of her buttock muscles.

He quickly released them, just long enough to reach around her waist and unbuckle the belt and unzip her fly and then tug down her jeans and knickers to her quaking knees before grabbing her newly bared ass again in his firm two handed grasp. He let out a long low moan of erotic appreciation.

“Mmmmm… Fucking ass she’s got! Ripe and bouncy, just my kinda ass. Gonna love ripping it up!”

Rod grinned momentarily at his mate, took a long stare at Emma’s naked bottom, licking his lips as his horny eyes sparkled, and then slowly drew Becky’s lips back along his shaft until she was just kissing the tip of his glistening crown. He clicked his fingers to get her to look up at him.

“C’mere…” He pointed at the root of his cock. “And then keep it going, stem to stern, forward and back.”

Becky did as she was told, sliding her face forward, making his ten incher disappear straight down her throat and then drawing back and then forward again, like a piston in and out of it’s housing, getting faster all the time as per Rod’s instructions.

“Yeah… That’s it. Like that.” Rod groaned in appreciation at Becky’s efforts.

Bull finally let go of Emma’s ass, tugged her jeans up over her knees and then shoved her down to kneel in front of him while he hurriedly fished out his own black trouser snake.

Emma nearly cried when she saw it. It was even bigger than Rod’s, over a foot long and quite a bit thicker around the circumference.

Rod looked over at Emma, just as she hesitantly reached for Bull’s huge member.

“C’mere. C’mere you!” He grunted, pointing to the erection that was sliding on and out of Becky’s labouring throat. Emma shifted her weight and leaned across to obediently offer her mouth to his slick, gleaming shaft.

Becky and Emma started to double the shaft, one sucking and licking the crown while the other slicked her tongue up and down the long heavy shaft or worked at the distended scrotum. Then they’d swap. Emma wasn’t able to deep throat well though as she was leaning over and Bull was pawing at her breasts.

“Oh yeah! They both know how to do it! Fucking chav sluts! Fuck me that’s good!” He moaned in spite of Emma’s difficulty to please.

Rod released her after a couple of minutes and she soon found herself being force fed the even bigger shaft of Officer Bull, right the way down her throat in one quick deep thrust.

He locked one hand around the back of her neck and the other across her brow and face fucked her with an almost brutal fervour, making her gag thunderously and forcing rivers of spittle to drool from her chin to the road between them. Emma took it like a trooper, grabbing Bull’s hard, chunky thighs and concentrating on reading his rhythm. She had experienced this with Barry recently and even with Ray a few times and had learned how to cope with it.

“Oh yeah! Oh shit! Oh fuck! You’re good! You’ve had a lot of practice haven’t you!” Bull groaned as he drove his meat back and forth between her spread lips.

He gave her a break after five minutes and allowed her to take over. Emma tried to get him off quickly by keeping up his rhythm by fucking his cock with her face. It didn’t get her anywhere but a sore jaw and a sore throat however. His balls were full but they weren’t going to empty until he was ready to empty them.

Bull withdrew his immense cock, gripping Emma’s hair in one fist and hauling his shaft from the depths of her throat, she coughed and spluttered, drool sliding down her chin, gulping in rib aching lung-fuls of air, she felt like crying or throwing up.

However, a new snarled order from Officer Rod caught Emma’s attention, distracted her momentarily from her own ordeal.

“Up. On your feet.” Rod panted at Becky.

She looked tired and sore too, her lips and chin were spotted with saliva and there was a snail trail down her chin and into her cleavage. She got unsteadily to her feet.

“Bend over the car Taylor, yeah. Right there. Get ready for it.”

Rod smiled, shark-like, while he slowly fisting his large drool gleaming erection. He stood back a step to give Becky room to get up and turn around.

She took up the desired position, leaning over the bonnet with her arms locked and her legs spread slightly.

Rod stepped up behind her, flicked the cotton skirt up over her back and ripped her thong off with a quick two-time yank that tore the material apart.

Then he grabbed one of her tight young ass cheeks, eased the head of his shaft into place then started to shuffle forward, pushing the meat into her teenage pussy inch by inch.

“There it is!” He said with a long pleasured sigh. “How’s that feel, huh?”

Becky didn’t reply, but Emma watched her head drop and her eyes squeeze shut as she was penetrated and then filled to bursting with cock meat. Her bottom lip trembled visibly.

Rod started to thrust then, holding tight onto Becky’s rounded little ass with both hands while he fucked his shaft into her hot depths.

Bull’s cock was back at Emma’s face again and drew her attention away from Becky. The huge meat slapped against her face like a sock full of tennis balls a few times, until the hot spongy crown was pushing at her lips again, she opened her mouth obediently and Bull thrust the shaft home with a satisfied grunt. Emma started to suck again, licking on the in thrust and sucking along the shaft as it withdrew from her throat.

It wasn’t long before Officer Bull was harshly fucking her face again, holding the top of her head in one massive hand while his other felt her breasts, palm shoved down the front of her top, fingers squeezing and tweaking her nipples as he pulled her mouth forward and back along his throbbing hard on.

At last he’d had enough, Emma was struggling for air, she felt dizzy and light headed and awash with saliva, afraid she would choke on it at any second. But he took that particular moment to pull out and grab her by the nape of the neck again.

“Stand up.” He grunted, his obvious lust adding it’s own colour and weight to his deep voice.

He stomped a foot down on the crotch of Emma’s half dropped jeans and shoved the rucked up garment to the floor, waited until she had stepped out of it with one leg and then yanked her top up to her throat to bare her perky young breasts.

Finally, he lifted one of her legs, hooked it in the crook of his elbow, hoisting it high and then stepped into position.

“Put it in you.” He grunted at her, playing with her breasts with one hand and feeling one soft firm buttock with the other.

Emma reluctantly reached down between them, grabbed the hot hard shaft of his saliva slick phallus and levered it against her splayed pussy lips, she lodged the fat mushroom crown against her pussy but then Bull quickly pushed her hand away, releasing the vice grip on her naked bottom, and then thrust his huge cock up inside her with a quick excited thrust.

“Ahh! Oh my God!” Emma wailed as she felt her lips and then her pussy itself stretched. He filled her with his initial thrust and Emma whimpered again at the feel of her pussy walls straining against the huge, hot, throbbing invader as it pushed deeper and deeper into her.

Bull let go of her elevated leg and placed his hands back on her naked, fleshy ass, digging fingers and thumbs in for purchase and then started to thrust, taking up a deep and relatively speedy pace. Emma arched against the pummelling tumult, assaulting her from her quivering belly downwards, as well as making her perky young breasts shudder.

She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. She fought to keep quiet, clamped her teeth to hold back the moans and gasps that she wanted to release, knew Bull wanted to hear. She didn’t want him to think she was enjoying this, no matter how little resistance she had put up.

Rod grunted loud and sudden and the abrupt noise caught Emma’s attention, she glanced to her right to look over at the other officer and Becky, while Bull hammered and rocked her back and forth against the bonnet of her boyfriend’s car.

Rod now had Becky standing side on to him with one leg hooked wide and precarious on his shoulder, while he hunched over her, clawing thornily at her big tits and pounding her pussy with his own glistening, ebony erection. One hand encircled her elevated leg, his fingers grasping the creamy flesh of her thigh, while his other hand was clamped around the back of her neck.

He was snarling and grunting with animalistic passion while he fucked her. Slamming his hips in hard, violently jerky thrusts. Becky was trying to keep as silent and unresponsive as Emma but her face was a picture. Her eyes were wide and expressive, reflecting the fearful, aghast, overpowered reaction to Rod’s pummelling of her cunt. Her mouth was slack and her wet lips were parted slightly she seemed to be panting.

“Come back down here, put it back in your mouth.” Rod said, letting go of her raised leg and pointing to his cock with his freed hand.

Becky allowed Rod to step back and pull out of her cunt before she put her leg back down. His hand stayed on the back of her neck to pull her down to her knees between him and the car.

“Suck it. Suck it!” He snapped, pulling her face towards his large, slick hard on.

Becky opened her mouth over the bloated crown again and took it deep, sucking for all she was worth.

Rod gave a responsive groan of satisfaction and pleasure and then turned his eye to Emma.

“I wanna feel her cunt.” He nodded to Emma.

Rod certainly seemed to have dominance over Bull and the other man, though bigger and probably stronger, didn’t seem either prepared to stand up for himself, or be bothered. Maybe Rod was his only friend.

“Get your hot meaty arse over here short stuff. I want it.” Rod grunted at Emma.

At once, Bull stopped his thrusting and stepped back to let Emma shuffle reluctantly over toward the other man.

“Yeah,” Bull said suddenly, as though he’d just caught up and seen an opportunity. “Let’s swap.”

Becky had already had Rod’s erection taken off her and was kneeling there, watching what was going on, panting in breaths and wiping the drool from her chin and throat.

“Suck me now.” Bull grunted to Becky, slowly fisting his phallus and casting a horny appraising eye over Becky’s on display charms.

Emma was grabbed by Rod about the arm and hauled past Becky, who was getting to her feet to take up her newly appointed position.

“Both of you, strip. Everything off.” Rod snapped and the girl’s got to work without hesitation.

Bull gathered the clothes and quickly shoved them in the back of the patrol car, except their bra’s and underwear, he pocketed those. Then the girls were divided up again. Rod grabbing Emma, Bull moving in for Becky.

“Oh yeah. Fuck me!” Rod groaned as he shoved Emma onto her back on the bonnet of Ray’s car, and penetrated her at once.

He bent her legs back until her knees were up near her shoulders, leaned in to hook her calves around his neck and then started to slam his cock home hard and fast.

“She’s just as hot as her friend here ain’t she.” Bull muttered conversationally as she took hold of Becky’s head and drew her face to his huge meat, she started to lick at the underside of the offered phallus obediently. “Kinda squishy. Nice to fuck. Kinda cushioning.”

“Oh, you’re right! This shit’s good man!” Rod groaned in a low breathy coarse voice

He was humping her like there was no tomorrow, making her young flesh jiggle and quiver under him and this time Emma couldn’t hold back those panting groans and breathy whimpering sounds, she knew they would want to hear.

“Oh! I’m gonna fucking blow!” Rod wailed, both hands fondling Emma’s naked, not quite handful tits as he fucked her with a rapid and jerky, passionate, slamming pace. His thumbs were circling over the tips of her hard nipples in little spiralling circles while his hands squeezed over and over on the soft, gelatinous orbs.

Soon enough Becky was gagging and spluttering noisily on Bull’s huge shaft of meat as he shovelled it’s enormity down her throat again and again. After a few frantic minutes he hauled her to her feet, wheeled her around then shoved her between the shoulders to bend her over alongside Emma on the bonnet of the Corsa.

“Over the bonnet. Just like before.” He rumbled at her.

There wasn’t much room and she was balanced a little precariously and had to reach down to the wheel arch and grab hold of the rubber of the front tyre to brace herself as Bull, shifting into position, tight between her splayed thighs, pushed his meat against the split peach of her tender teenage snatch and then smoothly drove it all the way into her.

Becky arched and cried out in spite of her experience as she felt the mammoth cock pressure it’s way up the length of her tight tunnel. The difference in cock size, girth especially, between Rod and Bull was easily apparent.

“Jesus Fuck! Damn! Bastard! Fucking! Cunt!” Becky cursed continually until she felt his hot heavy bulk pressing against her cool taut ass cheeks.

He held a tight two handed grip of her ass until he got a good pace going and then let go of her and grabbed her ponytail to pull her upper body back and then reached under her arms for a good firm grasp of her hefty young tits.

They fucked side by side, two of them like rabid animals in heat, two of them taking their unwarranted punishment as best they could.

Rod drove hard into Emma, all power and noise and aggression, but never allowed himself to cum, just ploughing her and enjoying the way her body quivered and shook beneath him like jelly. And the expression on her pretty face, aghast, overwhelmed, disbelieving, fearful.

Bull power slammed Becky, but his cock and the rest of him were like separate entities, his shaft did what it did in her cunt, enjoying the thrusting and the heat and friction while his hands explored her slender curves at will, though he always came back to her breasts, cupping and hefting them, pressing them together, turning them so her nipples met and played one against the other.

“Time to swap back.” Rod grunted to Bull.

The bigger man just nodded and leaned up off Becky’s taut backside, panting and gleaming with sweat. He took a step back again.

Rod leaned up off Emma, and then pushed her to the side out from under him, even with his engorged cock still deep inside her. At the same time Rod reached across and caught Becky’s ponytail, using it to pull her to him.

“Like he said, over the bonnet. Just like before.” Rod said.

Now with a hand on the back of her neck again, to direct and control her, Becky slid across to the other officer, conscious of her bare flesh sliding against Emma’s soft naked skin, as they were passed left and right across each other, Rod to Bull, Bull to Rod.

Rod pressed himself tight against Becky and leaned in to press his lips to her ear.

“Butt fuck time!” He snarled loudly. And Becky’s heart went into overdrive.

She felt the tightness in her chest, the butterflies, the fear. Her sphincter actually tensed involuntarily and she told herself she had to get a grip and relax if he wasn’t going to rip her a whole new one.

She swallowed, tried to bite down her clutching anxiety, and took up the position as dictated.

“Yeah. Time for punishment! You too.” Bull added, reaching for Emma again and pulling her hard against him.

“Tell you what I’ll do, I’ve give you a ten count to lube me up with your spit. Make it a bit easier on your sweet young chav arse.” Rod grunted, a malicious grin twisting his already brutish features.

Bull’s bulkier Tyson-esque face split into it’s own vile grin at his partner’s half hearted platitude and he eyed Emma again and repeated the “You too.” from earlier.

Both girls were quickly squatting down, balanced on the balls of their feet, hands grasping Police officer thighs while they desperately hawked and lathered spit over the two huge black erections as liberally as they could, while Rod voiced his ten second count down.

As the number one passed his full smirking lips, he reached down and at once hauled Becky to her feet and around, shoving her back over the bonnet, face down. Bull copied his partner again pushing Emma into a matching position to her chav mate’s left.

“Here we go.” Bull grunted but he took a couple of minutes to caress Emma’s naked backside with his huge hands. Rod went straight for the prize.

Rod gripped his cock tight, right beneath the swollen mushroom shaped crown, pinching the hardness, locking the coursing blood in there so it was hard as steel and then pushed against Becky’s tiny puckered anal mouth. And pushed hard.

Becky let out a long throaty yelp of pain and exertion as Rod quickly pressured his way past her unrelenting sphincter, then he jerked his hips a half dozen times to force her anus into submission. She cried out a reverberating, throaty squeal as her ass was penetrated and then hurriedly filled with Rod’s long and thick ebony truncheon.

She slammed her fists on the bonnet, yelled and cursed, shook her head and tossed her ponytail in response to her anus being so brutally violated.

Emma’s just about simultaneous reaction was almost impressively controlled compared to Becky’s, as her penetration must have been considerably more uncomfortable with the size of the cock being pressured into her succulent teenage ass.

She writhed as though electrocuted, her legs trembling, her head whipped back and then down, all but slapping into the navy bonnet beneath her.

Her hands and her forearms danced across the sheet metal panel, expressively reacting, aimless and searching at the same time.

Her tightly screwed-shut eyes opposed the state of her wide open mouth from which a throaty high pitched and guttural squeal issued, but the sound abruptly died there, caught in her throat, overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling of that mammoth thing inching it’s way up her tight little rectum. No more sound came out of her wide open mouth and her head lolled and then drooped, coming to rest on her clutching arms, the fingers intertwined, knuckled white, hands shaking uncontrollably.

The girls could do nothing as both men kept up the pressure, grunting and panting with effort as they insisted their erections into their teenage backsides until both were all the way in.

The Officers drive their cocks in all the way, using the girls as they saw fit. They filled them, balls deep, shafts gripped fist tight by firm, tight, muscular anal walls, crowns buried in the simmering, hot guts of the trembling nubile girls under them.

Bull saw fit to hold Emma hard against his loins and grind his pelvis against her soft pillowing ass cheeks while he enjoyed the sensations heating and cinched around his entombed erection.

Rod saw fit to start thrusting at once, yanking on Becky’s hair to pull her back on his hardness while he thrust it up into her.

“Feeling your tight little arse hole baby. Deep in your tight fucking arse hole!” Rod growled as he thrust, as much a grimace of exertion as anything. Becky own response was, of course, much more colourful.

“Ah! Fuck! That fucking rags, you shit!!”

“Just shut up and take it like chav bitch you are!”

“Fuck you! Suck the shit outta my arse you fucking evil, twisted, bastard, cunt!!”

A large heavy palm came down hard on Becky’s perky right buttock in response and the teenage chav yelped at the sharp, stinging pain of the ass slap. Her anus cinching involuntarily around the thick invading member.

“That’s right, squeeze my dick you little slut cunt!” Rod grunted with amusement.

“Fuck! Bastard!!” She moaned as his thrusts intensified.

Becky, having eventually controlled her vocal reaction, took a sideways glance at Emma to her left. The younger brunette was suffering her own sodomy in near silence by comparison, head down, forehead touching her arms, straight bobbed hair hanging down around her pale face. Tears were running down her flushed cheeks, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted. Her small pert breasts swinging violently back and forth, physical evidence of the brutality Officer Bull was using to bugger the teenage girl.

Becky wondered idly if Emma had taken big cocks in her backdoor more recently than she had and was therefore able to take the Police-anal-brutality better.

Becky’s last big-cock-anal had been with Nilay in the offy. And that had been weeks ago. She’d had anal since of course, it happened to her most weeks whether she wanted it or not, but the last few had all been little gang-lad dicks, not much to write home about. Certainly no sphincter-stretchers among them.

And then it dawned on her that she’d been ass fucked just last night by Barry Mather. And he was definitely classed and as sphincter-stretcher and she winced inwardly as her theory was shot down.

Whatever, Emma must have had Ray’s cock up her arse either often or recently. And maybe Barry’s too and maybe someone else’s, unless Ray likes to use big fuck off dildo’s in her when he can’t get it up!

Whatever, something must have stretched her ass enough so she could take Bull’s nasty-ass monster meat without screaming her lungs out.

She was only letting out soft guttural panting groans in time to Bull’s deep penetrating, gut wrenching thrusts. Little gasping moans escaping her saliva glistening lips, unlike Becky.

“Jesus! Fuck! Jesus! I hope you get fucking dick rot! Fuck! It hurts!”

“Carry on slut, I’ll make you go down there and suck it clean!” Rod growled back at her as he sodomised her brutally, slapping her ass again and laughing at her reaction to the anal torture.

They settled down after that. The officers sodomising the teenage girl’s with the standard level of dominant brutality that was almost a stereotype used on estate girls.

Unable to do anything else, they took it, Emma quietly, head down, breathing through the pain of Bull’s huge thrusts, seemingly able to put her attention elsewhere. Becky was much more stuck in the moment, cursing and whining at her treatment, resulting in more ass slaps and more harsh buggering and laughter from Rod. Which of course was always going to bring him off quicker. In mere moments in fact.

He climaxed thunderously inside Becky’s churning guts, a loud hoarse growl of pure sexual ecstasy rumbling from his muscular chest while he burst a barrage of hot and plentiful cum straight up her.

He held her against him and slapped away at her naked buttocks cruelly, which resulted in her ass cinching again and again tightly around his straining cock, forcing her to actually milk the load straight from his heavy cum filled scrotum.

Until, with a satisfied, light headed groan, he pulled out and then flicked the last vestiges of his orgasm over Becky’s pink hued ass cheeks. Becky slowly rolled over while Rod pushed his gleaming half erect shaft back into his open uniform fly. Both of their eyes were on Bull and Emma, who were still hard at it and taking it over Ray’s Corsa’s bonnet.

Bull had Emma shoving her quivering ass back onto his huge, swollen, straining cock while he grasped and squeezed her shaking, hard nippled breasts. He was groaning and mauling her breasts profusely, battering her incoming ass with his powerful hips, obviously seconds from climax. And then the seconds timed out and he yanked his cock out of Emma’s rectum just in time to shoot his load, a burst of squirting pearlescent ropes, a half dozen strong that rained down over her buttocks and the small of her back.

After the initial barrage a second flurry of more fluidic cum splashed her anus, her pouting pussy lips, her inner thighs.

Bull stood there unsteadily, quaking and jerking the remainder of his cum onto Emma’s pale proffered backside and then onto the tarmac between her spread feet. And then he was done, panting, flicking the last vestiges from his still swollen crown, before levering the still massive member back into his trousers.

“Nice one. Right, Taylor. Clean her up. Use your tongue. Lick her clean!” Rod said with a sudden grunt of amusement and shoved Becky forward toward Emma, who hadn’t moved yet.

Reluctant but knowing to keep her mouth shut and get on with it, Becky bent forward from the waist and got to work on sucking and licking the thick cooling semen from Emma’s ass, pussy and thighs.

Emma kept her mouth clamped and her head down, trying to get through the waves of tired aching soreness that were washing over her from the loins upward. Her legs were trembling with exertion and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold this position indefinitely, but she had a hopeful feeling they would be moving on soon.

However quiet and still she tried to remain, Emma couldn’t quite repress the little shudders that rippled from her groin to the back of her neck as Becky’s gentle tickling tongue played across her puffy vulva, raw, puckered anal mouth and the hot manhandled cheeks of her teenage bottom.

She hoped the officers, who she could sense were standing somewhere off to the side, wouldn’t notice the telltale sign of her pleasure and think she got off on girl-on-girl.

Then again, they had proved themselves to prefer the hands-on-dicks-in approach than voyeurism of lesbians going at it.

She used Becky’s misfortune to help distract her from the soreness, focussing her attention on the other girl’s soft warm tongue on her sensitive flesh and the little kiss-like play of her lips, pursing against Emma’s intimate flesh to suck in mouthfuls of Bull’s thick, though probably chilly seed. It made Emma think of slurping up the contents of a pot noodle. And she had to suppress a little smile of the suddenly comedic image that popped into her mind.

Bull meanwhile, after a muttered instruction from Rod, was over at the driver’s side door of the Corsa, collecting the keys from the ignition and locking up the vehicle.

He pocketed the keys and then hulked over to their own Patrol car to tidy up a little, then quickly returned to Rod’s side.

The other officer was standing there with a half smile, watching Taylor sucking and licking away all over the other girl’s arse and inner thighs, cleaning them all up before working delicately between her sizeable though perky buttocks and sucking away at the thick plentiful cum splatters that Bull had shot off all over her succulent pussy lips and tight little ass hole.

It was already getting him hard again and wanting more and he couldn’t help but rub at the hot tingling bulge of his reforming hard on inside his uniform pants.

“Are we done with these two? I don’t think we are. I don’t think we’re done quite yet.” Rod muttered to his partner.

It sounded rhetorical to Becky who, though licking and sucking away at Emma’s admittedly tasty pussy, was making sure she was alert and aware of what was going on. Something else she had learned the hard way.

“No fucking way. I want more, definitely! I want her…” He nodded across at Becky. “And I definitely want her again.” He nodded at Emma, with a grin. “So, we’re taking this inside? Carrying on? Indoors somewhere?”

“Yeah, mate! We’re having fun ain’t we? Why the fuck not!?”

“So let’s get going, I’m ready for more, already.” Bull grunted rubbing his hands together eagerly.

“Partner, I’m right there with you.” Rod muttered back with a grin, then raised his voice, aiming it at the two naked teenage girls.

“Right, chav bitches into the car. We’re going for a little ride.”

Emma actually risked her luck once again by opening her mouth before she considered the consequences.

“Wait! What about our car…?” She asked, throwing a panicked glance back over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that.” Rod replied easily. “It’s all locked up safe and secure. You’ll get the keys back when we’re finished with you. You can come back and pick it up later.”

No consequences for her this time, apparently Emma realised thankfully. Small mercies.

“Right, that’s enough chatter, into the car.” Bull rumbled at them nodding toward the waiting patrol car, impatience as evident on his dark features as his horniness.


The girl’s didn’t ask for permission to put their clothes back on, they just went to it without thinking. Luckily neither of the officers said anything about it. They were too busy chatting.

Bull got on the police radio to start with, reporting their position and putting in an instruction to say they were going radio silent for about an hour, investigating a report of house and lock up break ins on the opposite side of town than where they actually were.

Becky listened in and took from the professionally delivered radio chatter that they were going to be busy for another hour or so.

That wasn’t too bad. She’d been through worse and longer experiences and these two seemed to be less aggressive and brutal than their reputations had suggested. Or, at least on this particular day they were in a more reasonable mood than usual.

There was obviously going to be plenty more jaw and ass hole stretching but it was nothing she couldn’t handle or had handled before.

Both girls, happier now they both had their socks and trainers back on, cold bare feet on unmaintained tarmac had never been a pleasant sensation, were busy looking around the backseat and foot wells for their underwear and their bra’s and couldn’t find them anywhere. It wasn’t until Rod slammed on the brakes a little more harshly than required, making both girls slide around on the back seat and look up in shock, that they noticed their missing underwear on the passenger side of the dashboard, bunched up and out of reach.

They knew better than to ask for them. And they were both distracted by the sudden activity of the two men in front of them. They had reversed their car a few feet and were both looking across to their left, down a shallow side street and a line of two storey detached houses that faced them beyond it.

“Hey, in’t that Derby breaking into that house?” Rod was saying, nodding with his chin and pointing down the little side street.

“Oh yeah! So it is! Should we call it in?”

“No. I’ve got a better idea. You know whose house that is? That Lithuanian bastard who tried fucking us over with that Traffic violation bullshit…”

Becky, sitting behind the driver’s position had the best view and she recognised Derby at once. The lithe and slender curly haired young brunette was half way through a shimmied open downstairs window. She was wearing shiny navy blue tracksuit pants that were tucked into her socks, with the waist band rolled down to make the garment an impromptu hipster cut. Even from a distance Becky could see the spaghetti thin waistband of Derby’s thong underwear. On her feet were a pair of scuffed, muddy and expensive, therefore obviously stolen, Nike TR Twist trainers. Her slim torso was almost hidden in a black fleece hoodie, but it was unzipped and she had on a tight elsaticated Nike vest top underneath in order to make the most of her meagre young breasts. She didn’t even have the hood up.

“We never paid him back for that did we!?” Bull commented, watching Derby disappear into the house.

“No, and now’s our chance. His daughter’ll be home alone at this time won’t she? She’s always home before noon during term time.”

“You wanna call the Helletic boys?” Bull said.

“Fuck yeah! Give ‘em something to play with and it’ll give us at least an hour of peace and quiet to carry on with these two minxes’.”

“What, take ‘em over to their den and fuck ‘em there?”

“Why not? The gang’ll be out picking up Derby and that Laima, whatever her name is, if they follow their usual plan, it’ll take’em a good hour to get back to their base.”

“Sure, go for it! Wait. How do we keep ‘em there till the Helletic’s get here?”

“Got an idea. Give us your cuffs and key. You call the Helletics. I’ll just be a minute.” Rod said, took the offered handcuffs and key and then got out of the idling police car. Bull fished out his Mobile phone, an HTC Radar, Becky noticed with jealousy. She liked mobiles, the way some lads like trainers.

There was a short and clipped conversation featuring telltale words like “bitches”, “fun” and “whatever you want”. The address followed and mention of favours exchanged. And then he was done.

Rod reappeared a minute or so later with a big grin on his face.

“Fuck, that Derby’s a feisty one.” He laughed as he settled behind the wheel and steered the car back onto the road. “I had to splash her with a bit of mace-cologne to calm her down. Little whore. Just a little across the eyes. Should be okay when the lads pick her up. The Lithuanian piece was all demure and quiet though.”

“Boooring!” Bull sang. “Helletics’re on their way. So what did you do?”

“Cuffed ‘em to each other around the banister an’ shoved a key up each of their arses. Left a note for the Helletics. Simple!”

“Fucking genius mate. Helletics’re gonna have plenty of fun just uncuffin’ ‘em!” Bull grunted a laugh.

“Now, put your foot down will you, I’m proper fucking horny again!”


The patrol car took them to the opposite side of town from Oakfield. To another estate. A rival Estate. And Becky, all at once, started to feel the uncomfortable pangs of fear again.

Mention of the Helletics should have given her all the clue she needed, but she hadn’t caught on.

They pulled off a main road and the usual detritus, that tended to form the gateway to England’s council estates, started to appear at once.

Partially renovated ground, where buildings had been pulled down but the money had run out before any new builds could be initiated, and were now just piles of bricks and dust, litter strewn and overgrown with weeds.

Then there were the abandoned and burned out cars, prams, sofas and piles of bin bags that lined the roads like a modern-art parody of city-centre flower beds and hanging baskets.

Then came the concrete monstrosities of the estate buildings themselves. As though the despair had sucked out all the colour, everything was dull, dirty grey, unkempt, uncared for, unwelcoming.

Everything was right angles, boxes stacked on boxes. And everything was broken, cracked concrete.

A rusted and vandalised attempt, admittedly half hearted, of a children’s play area complete with swings and a merry go round, was visible in one corner of the concrete paved courtyard.

There were smashed windows, kicked in front doors, torn and discarded clothes all over, as well as more vandalised and burned out carcasses of joy-ridden vehicles.

Becky almost felt like she was back home. And she hated it.

On closer inspection there was muted colour. Blood stains on the concrete, splatters of paint where tins had been dropped or thrown, their contents spilling, Jackson Pollack style, over the ground and ground floor walls.

Of course, the rest of the colour came in the form of graffiti. A couple of the attempts almost hinted at artistic talent, rude, crass, overtly sexual and derogatory but still artistic and colourful. The rest were just stylised tags, usually in black, a couple with grey and white highlights to add a touch of class.

The one colourful tag that stood out adorned the ramp access to the first floor set of flats on the left side of the western-most block and was repeated on the wall of the corner flats of the first floor western block.

It was a stylised dirty, horny, goateed red-devil on a motorbike, with two super-busty, flame haired, female devils sitting astride him, one in front and one behind.

The patrol car came around, slowed and turned in, parking in an almost hidden position underneath the concrete ramp that led to the Helletic Biker’s clubhouse directly above.

Of course, the estate tenants would know better than to mess around with this particular patrol car. Pretty much everyone on these estates knew of Officers Rod and Bull.

The girls were let out of the car and walked quickly up the ramp, one officer tightly gripping the upper arm of each girl, to the front of the council flat that the Helletics had made their base. And garage as it turned out.

The front door and front window of the corner flat had been knocked out, the hole widened to about two metres square. They walked straight in through that hole.

From inside it was obvious what the gang had done and why. The interior of the flat and it’s immediate right side neighbour had been knocked through into one wide space and re-appropriated into a garage area for their bikes. There were oily rags, bike parts, oil and petrol stains over the floor and even a few oil drums half filled with stolen petrol and engine oil and possibly brake fluid as well.

To the right of the entrance, beyond the garage area, probably half way through the living room of the second flat, was a milky, old tarpaulin sheet partition, like a big makeshift shower curtain. Beyond that Becky caught glimpses of mattresses, dirty looking sofas a makeshift tattooist’s parlour and what looked like a meth lab against the far wall.

Every where there were discarded food containers, half eaten contents, visibly mouldy and stifling the already stale air with their sour aromas.

There were booze bottles and cans of every kind, make and size, on every surface.

The dirty walls were marked with brown stains of tobacco smoke, old hardcore pornographic posters, possibly stills from amateur films they might have made themselves with local girls and a few bike and babe posters from motorcycle magazines.

The whole place stank to high heaven of things Becky didn’t even want to think about.

The rear and far left of the knocked through flats still had doors and partition walls, leading to a kitchen and bathroom, a back bedroom that was now a storage room, or more accurately a dumping ground.

To the left of the entrance hole was another bedroom with a couple of mattresses laid out on the bare floor.

A cardboard box was filled with sex toys and S/M stuff, plus stacks of magazines.

There were steel rings bolted into the concrete walls and hooks on the ceilings.

And as Becky and Emma were led across the threshold into that particular bedroom, they noticed a heavy pad lock and clasp on the inside of the door. The purpose of this room was obvious. Sex with girls who didn’t want to be there. None willing partners.

Fortunately, and correctly, Rod and Bull assumed that Becky and Emma weren’t likely to try and run out on them so they neither shut the door nor used the pad lock or any of the ropes, chains or manacles that were scattered around the bare floor.

“Okay girls! You know the drill by now. Strip off so we can get busy, we’re really fucking horny and we’re not wasting any more time.” Rod said, almost good naturedly, for him.

Bull just eyed Emma with those dark, lust burning, animalistic eyes.

The girls undressed quickly and silently. Bull undressed along with them, Rod kept half an eye on their increasing nakedness and half and eye on the door. Though, once Becky was naked, she had his full attention and any concern of intruders or whatever he was concerned about, was gone.

Bull was naked about the same time as Emma and he immediately pulled her onto one of the mattresses alongside him, so they were lying side by side facing each other, though that was as far as the appearance of lovers went.

Bull shoved Emma’s hand to his already semi hard cock, slapped her thighs apart so he could get to the goods between them with one hand, while the other once again reached around to squeeze and fondle those pliant ass cheeks. Finally he pressed his mouth onto hers and force fed her his tongue.

Rod meanwhile, grabbed Becky and shoved her over onto the mattress on her knees then stood up in front of her while stabbing his cock at her mouth with urgent pelvic thrusts.

He spent a few awkward seconds in a half crouch, so he could molest Becky’s big tits while he simultaneously tried to fuck her face with quick pumping hip thrusts.

However, Becky took the opportunity to illicit a little control of the situation, shifting her mouth forward and back, keeping in time, so Rod’s shaft never quite went as deep as he wanted, though with his own muscular upper body blocking his view, he couldn’t see what she was doing. All the same, his malicious tit mauling came to an end and soon enough he had both hands tight to her head, cruelly dragging her face forward while he rammed his pelvis into her noisily gagging mouth and shoving his length all the way in, until his heavy balls were slapping her hard under her chin with each thrust.

Bull was crushing Emma against his huge, dark muscular bulk, writhing against her teenage body, while he fondled her tits, pussy and ass with is huge shovel size hands.

His tongue worked wetly over her lips and deep inside her open mouth, then trickling disgusting snail trails of drool over her lower face, down to her small pert breasts, over the stiff hard nipples, down to her palpitating naval and then back up to her mouth.

It was almost as if he was teasing her, wanting her to beg him to trail his tongue further down and eat her out, but in reality Emma would have been disgusted to even imagine his head between her spread thighs.

She just wanted to get the hour over and done with so they could get Ray’s car back to his house safe and sound.

She obediently had her hands at his bulging crotch, one slicking up and down the lower half of the massive steel hard shaft, while the other gently cupped and massaged the grapefruit size testicles.

She also had her head still and ready to receive his filthy tongue whenever it returned to her mouth.

But she knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with this for very long. And she was right.

With a guttural grunt of longing from Bull, Emma was grabbed and rolled onto her belly and then he was above her, astride her, atop her, his weight crushing her into the already thin and worn mattress. His hands went to her naked ass cheeks, his hot hard meat pressing heavily between them.

And all the while the long, wet, gurgling, hacking noises of Becky gagging on Rod’s deep thrusting cock filled the room, all but bouncing off the close up walls.

Emma shivered with anxiety as she reached back and spread her buttocks for him, her hands covered by Bull’s as he pressed his brutish erect cock against the split groove of her teenage pussy.

Just as she had while bent over Ray’s car bonnet, Emma had that moment of disbelief when she lay there, ass cheeks spread, the hard heat of the immense cock burning against her inner thigh, and the wild thought that it was a dream she would wake up from, or something would happen to stop this. She wanted Ray to appear from nowhere and rescue her.

However, the dreadful reality returned as her vulva were spread by the hot spongy hardness of Bull’s huge meat and he thrust forward and Emma cringed and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt it pierce her and press deep up inside her body, unwanted and unwarranted but, inside her all the same.

At once with deep growling grunts of hot tingling passion, Bull started to rut atop her, humping and writhing and thrusting into the young pale flesh laid out beneath him.

Emma was pressed face down into the mattress, eyes shut, teeth clenched, shunted along the mattress by the sheer strength of the man lying on her.

She let go of her own ass cheeks and reached out left and right and grabbed the beaded edges of the mattress, her fingers digging in tight and crushing the fabric and padding in desperate fists.

Now three separate human noises assaulted Emma’s ears, mixing in with the audible fast hammering of her heart, Rod’s groans were getting louder and more animated, mixing into the continual unpleasant gagging wet throaty sounds from Becky’s hard working throat and of course Bull’s own loud deep guttural accompaniment.

Rod groaned loud and long but then pinched the root of his hard on, to cut off his climax at the last second. He didn’t know why, he just went with his desire. And his desire was to hold off coming too early. Instead, he used a few seconds to let the sensual steam dissipate a little while he removed his uniform and dumped it in the corner beside Bull’s.

Becky actually had a momentary desire to run. But her common sense kicked in quickly. She was in another estate on the wrong side of town, naked and would potentially have two very angry and powerful coppers chasing after her within seconds.

No, work your way through the hour and hope they keep their word. She told herself.

And then Rod was upon her again and any opportunity was lost anyway.

Becky was pushed down onto her back and made to grab her ankles, lifting them to head height, while Rod arranged himself over of her, crouching over her body on his haunches. At once, he thrust his way inside her and then grabbed her big tits in his hands.

Then both men settled down to some fast and deep thrust fucking, both of them grunting and panting noisily, both girl’s lying there immobile, violated, getting sweaty and breathless and uncomfortable while they were used.

They swapped positions, Becky rolled and shoved onto her hands and knees and fucked, doggie style with Rod’s hands clawing at her lithe, taut backside and two thick fingers shoved up her ass.

Emma was just rolled over onto her back and laid down on, Bull’s hands once again grabbing her meaty buttocks while he humped and pounded away on her, his mouth and tongue sharing time between Emma’s shuddering breasts and prominent nipples and her slack, panting mouth.

Emma, Bull’s mouth locked momentarily like a leech to her nipples, turned her head and looked over at her friend.

Becky had gone quiet for once, her curses and insults halted. Maybe they didn’t have the desired effect, maybe she was too exhausted to complain.

She knelt there on her hands and knees being slammed back and forth, only just balanced, head down, loosened hair hanging down around her face, while Officer Rod fucked her hard, slapped her ass, finger fucked her anus. Then he reached over to lever her head up by her hair, keeping her arched and taut for his brutalising pelvic thrusts. That still brought out a vocal reaction in Becky.

“Jesus Fuck!” or “Ahhh! Oww! You bastard!”

But her cursing was devoid of venom by now, more a defeated, tired whine than anything more vehement.

And then Emma’s view was diverted as Bull put both hands to the top of her head and turned her gaze back to his. His eyes seemed to show an animalistic fire of pure sexual passion, totally devoid of humanity.

He held her with his gaze for a second and then dropped his mouth hungrily onto hers. She felt the heat of his breath, the fullness of his hot lips, the weight and strength behind them. She shuddered as his tongue pushed yet again into her mouth and she envisioned it as a huge slug like thing, thick, damp, hot, alive. It’s sour taste mingled with the hot aroma of his heavy, panting breath and the equally sour taste of his saliva.

She felt sick. She fought down the pangs of panic and that desperate need for Ray again and tried to put herself elsewhere.

Becky could see Bull fucking Emma from out of the corner of her eye. Fucking hell his cock was huge! How the hell could that little tart be taking it so quietly? He was really pounding into her. She even had her legs hooked around his waist, her heels pressing into his tight ass cheeks. She was probably enjoying it, the naughty little slut.

Then again, wouldn’t Becky herself prefer Bull’s dumb size to Rod’s slightly smaller but more sadistic cock? He was ripping into her, all mean, uncontrolled power and dominance and aggression, whereas Bull was like a big dumb animal just following his passions. Over large and rock solid and too strong, but there wasn’t the same dominance and raging aggression. Yeah maybe, compared to her, maybe Emma was getting it easy.

Becky didn’t know how much time had passed when they were made to swap partners, though was not surprised, Rod seemed to get bored easily but she had half expected to take another load from him before he had had his fill of her. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to empty their balls another couple of times in the course of an hour and were biding their time?

She suddenly wondered if the men had already fucked some other poor estate sluts this morning, before getting their hands on Emma and herself.

How many times had their balls been emptied today already? Did they have wives? Girlfriends? Or did they just satisfy themselves with poor local girls while they were out on their beat?

Rod pulled out and got up went over to Bull, still lying full length on Emma, and grabbed his shoulder he all but hauled him off the girl and waved him silently toward Becky. Bull took a last possibly longing look at Emma and then went over to the other mattress.

“Roll over. Get ready to suck.” Rod grunted.

Emma complied, though a little awkwardly, her legs were dancing with pins and needles. Rod helped. He laid her down flat on her belly, grabbed her under the arm pits and lifted her upper body so she was propped up on her elbows, then he leaned across her back to slap her thighs apart.

He knelt at Emma’s face and pushed his cock all the way in, then grabbed hold of her bottom with one hand and spread her cheeks while he started to molest her pussy lips and tease her anus with his other hand.

Emma could taste the tangy, slightly sweet taste of Becky’s pussy juices on Rod’s erection, as it slid between her lips and across her tongue, on the way into her throat. Then she was gagging and spluttering as he rammed the remainder into her mouth in a quick jerking thrust, one hand momentarily on the back of her head to make sure she took it.

Her saliva overflowed and she had to swallow around the invasive flesh to hold off a coughing fit. The taste of Becky went down with her spittle and all that was left was the hot throbbing hardness filling her mouth and frictioning against the inside of her tender throat.

Meanwhile, Becky had been made to kneel up in front of a standing Bull and offer her big tits up to wrap around his throbbing hard on. He grabbed her shoulders tightly and started to fuck her deep warm cleavage while Becky spat repeatedly over her own breasts to maintain a layer of lubrication and pressed them together tightly around the immense thrusting cock.

Bull fucked her tits with his usual overbearing passion. But it was awkward, his cock was so thick that Becky could hardly press her breasts adequately around it and it was long enough that the crown punched her right under the chin with each thrust.

Soon enough Bull was pushing her head downward, so her mouth was waiting for the upper thrust, until his cock filled her orifice right to the back. And after a few more minutes, her breasts were released and the tit fuck became a face fuck.

The face fuck lasted a couple of minutes before Bull changed tack again, this time sitting down on the mattress and hauling Becky over to sit in his lap, facing him. Becky’s hands gripped his huge muscular shoulders for support while he angled his erection, splayed her succulent pussy lips with the fat hard crown and then put a huge hand to the nape of her neck and used it to pull her smoothly down it’s length. It was a damned tight fit, as though he was pushing a cork back into the neck of a bottle, but residual saliva from the face fuck provided enough lubrication.

Once she was completely impaled, his hands came up, clamped onto her full breasts and he started to knead them hornily.

Becky was made to rock and gyrate her hips back and forth on his embedded erection, while he hefted and squeezed and fondled her teenage tits to his increasingly horny excitement.

Emma’s face fuck kept her working hard, trying to keep up with and not being bowled over by Rod’s harsh, two handed grip of her, or the furious battering thrust of his brutal hips. The saliva overflowed and trailed in little bubbly rivers from her mouth, out of the ‘o’ shape of her stretched and pursed lips, down her chin to the mattress beneath her.

The back of her neck was aching, as her head was arched back. The base of her skull, though cushioned by her brunette hair, was bashing against the flesh of her upper back, between her shoulders with each of Rod’s deep throating cock thrusts. Both his hands were between her soft pliable buttocks, fingers prodding and stabbing deep into her ass hole and pussy at the same time.

He suddenly let out a grunt of desire and tore his cock from the depths of her raw throat, ignoring her coughing, spluttering reaction.

He quickly turned and dropped himself onto her, kicking her legs together with his spread knees and lying down flat on top of her, her ass a smooth, soft cushion for his groin.

He hurriedly reached down and pressed the head of his hard, throbbing, phallus into the mouth of her finger-primed pussy and then rammed it home, immediately thrusting into her with his usual hammering, breathtaking pace and strength.

Emma, just catching her breath after the throat abuse, had it pounded out of her all over again and she groaned breathily, wheezing and moaning, grasping handfuls of mattress and trying to lift her upper body to fill her lungs, while the big, heavy, powerful Officer pounded away on her from above, with his usual speed and rampant ferocity.

Becky was allowed to take over riding on Bull after a half hour or so. His hands grabbed an ass cheek and a breast each, swapping back and forth, while she bounced hurriedly in his lap and moaned and cursed at the feel of his burning hot, stone hard cock stretching and filling her more than she thought possible.

Emma knew Rod was going to switch holes. His earlier dual fingering had told her that much, so she was supposedly ready for it when it happened.

One hand hooked around her throat while the other reached back between them, grabbed the base of his hardness and drew it back, then pressed the hot, slick crown against her anus and then pushed it up her, a straight, firm penetration, smooth and quick.

She was still tight and she cinched his erection like a fist, but Bull’s previous foray and Rod’s own finger-play earlier had prepared her anus well enough.

Once his hips were pressing and grinding against her lovely soft cushioning ass, his hands encircled her throat again, both of them, snugly but not constricting her. He held her by her neck as he started to buck his powerful hips against her smooth sensuous bottom, pumping his hard hot shaft into her burning hot anal tunnel.

Both the men, pounding into the two teenage girls, each with his own fast powerful rhythm, looked across at each other, grinning, their skin gleaming with sweat, eyes alight with their raw individual sexual passions.

“I was just thinking about Derby.” Rod grunted.

“They’ll be on their way back with them by now won’t they?”

“Sure, but we’ve still got a good twenty minutes yet.”

“Remember when we first had her?”

“Fuck yeah, that was fucking hilarious!”

Bull, strangely, turned his attention to Becky, including her in the conversation.

“We pulled them over on their first time here. They were in this old, crappy, beat up Land Rover, probably pinched. That’d be why they didn’t put up a fuss. There was mum and dad, an older brother and two sisters, Karyn was the other one. Mum was a fat old monster of a thing or else she’d'a got it too. The brother tried it on and we had to mace him and give him a bit of the old truncheon. That kept the fight out of the two sisters. We lugged ‘em both to the backseat of our ride and fucked ‘em. Nice and hard. Made ‘em cry and everything. Definitely popped both their butt hole cherries, maybe even all three.”

“Doubtful all three, they were already a pair of sluts. The brother and dad’d probably fucked ‘em both before we got anywhere near ‘em.” Rod commented,

Bull laughed and filled his big hands with Becky’s bouncing tits for the umpteenth time in the last hour.

“Good old fashioned introduction to the local area, set ‘em up for the rest of their lives.” Rod added, laughing, still pounding away in Emma’s ass.

Her face had gone pale, eyes open wide and tear filled, but she took it with her usual silent, grim resoluteness.

“I remember what happened to Karyn…” Bull mentioned.

“Yeah, she got snatched, train-ganged and dumped in that park for all comers. Ended up with a fat belly. Not surprising, she was the looker of the family. Picked the wrong gang to get involved with though didn’t she. Vipers were a bunch of pussy’s, all mouth and no action. I think they’re all dead now aren’t they?”

“Or in prison. Karyn had a lucky escape, if you can call what she got done to her in that park lucky.”

“‘Cause it was, she got out of it in one piece didn’t she! She was fostered out to some family up north I heard. What became of that bastard brother?”

“Oh, he was always on the rob wasn’t he, drugs, usual story. Robbed the wrong place, got glassed and proper fucked over, they found him three days later at the tip. Died in hospital. No loss to anyone.”

“Remember Carol last year?!” Bull took up the conversation.

“Fuck yeah!”

As Rod laughed long and loud at the recollection, Bull again, retold the tale to Becky while he kneaded her pert ass cheeks and prodded her anus with one fat finger and she bounced hurriedly up and down on his hard, heavy meat.

“I can’t remember what she’d been up to when we caught up with her but it wasn’t even dark, maybe four in the afternoon. Wasn’t she ripping off primary school kids at the school gates or something…?”

He glanced over at Rod for confirmation, but the other officer was far too busy with Emma, twisting her head to the side to feed her his tongue, while his other hand mauled her soft buttocks and his big hard on slammed away, fast and deep between them.

“…Anyway, it was just after new year and we were still hung over, didn’t want the usual bullshit paper work so we locked her up until the night bus started it’s rounds then we dragged her on there, hand cuffed her to the backseat and gave the driver the key, told her not to un-cuff her ’till his shift ended. It was a busy fucking night for the bus that time. Carol got fucking drowned in cum! Must have been made to empty forty or fifty set of balls before the driver unlocked her. Balls of all ages. She could barely move afterwards, her eyes were glued shut with spunk, she was doubling over and spewing the stuff every few steps, her belly was bloated with all of it. She’d had all her clothes ripped off hours before, spunk matted in her hair. She’d've been shitting the white stuff for a week afterward I’ll bet.”

“I heard she even got grabbed and fucked by some homeless bastards on her way home too. Being naked and all. Tripled by stinking, diseased, fucking homeless freaks! Would have loved to have seen that! Fuck me, but she got some action that night. Taught her a thing or two I bet.” Rod said.

He was panting now, obviously close to filling Emma’s rectum with the contents of his huge bloated testicles.

“That’s why she got to be such a good fuck, sheer hardcore practice. Seven solid hours none stop getting fucked on the back of a bus. What was that yank porn flick Debbie does Dallas? She’d have topped that shit easy that night.”

Thirty seconds later Rod shot his load deep into Emma’s tight rectum, with a loud groan and a frantic battering of her soft bouncy ass, emptying his balls and white washing the pretty brunette’s guts with gouts of his thick hot spunk.

Ten minutes after that and Bull was physically lifting and dropping Becky on his shaft, more a masturbatory tool than a fuck. But before long he pushed her down onto her back and missionary fucked her until he leaped up to his own climax.

He grabbed her ankles and held them together over her head, so Becky was practically bent double, her own hands clawing at the musty smelling damp fabric of the mattress beneath her for purchase and stability.

As he fucked her, his thrusts getting harder and faster by the minute, Bull slapped at her ass with one hand while he leaned up and slammed his hips against her raised bottom again and again. When he wasn’t slapping her buttocks he was slapping at her sore tits, making them bounce and shudder even more than his thrusts already were and occasionally pulling and twisting her nipples.

After five minutes he was pounding the teen chav so hard that he was shunting her bodily across the mattress six inches at a time.

It wasn’t long before she was scrabbling for a tight enough grip and her head and then her shoulders were hanging free of the mattress and thumping against the filthy concrete floor beneath her.

Emma lay flat on her front, exhausted and sore. She was too tired to think but her head was turned toward Becky and Bull and she was watching through the frame of hair that half hung over her pretty face.

Rod was lying beside her, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, propped up on one elbow, absently caressing Emma’s soft naked ass with one big idle hand while he watched Bull’s performance with wry interest.

When Bull finally climaxed, he leg go of Becky’s legs, which naturally spread and lowered, dragged his elephantine cock quickly out of her tender pussy and just let fly. He didn’t even have to tug on the shaft to get it going. He just focussed and then started shooting. Half a dozen great arcing bursts of his thick pearlescent cum filled the air above Becky’s prone torso. Each one reaching right over her from pussy lips to above her head. They shot out in projected, viscous, rainbow-arcs of creamy white. And came splattering down onto her, hot and thick. It was like being soaked by a garden hose.

“Oh fuck me! Jesus! Fucking hell!” Becky squealed and writhed as though trying to protect herself from his cum raining down on her.

“Fucking right!” Bull grunted, panting and laughing, enjoying his protracted climax.

Becky could actually hear the sound of pressurised squirting as the cum erupted from his slick bloated cock crown.

“Jesus. I had all that up my arse.” Emma muttered, still lying prone on her front, still trying to catch her breath and watching though hooded eyes at the immense orgasm going on over on the other mattress.

Unfortunately, it had a invigorating effect on Rod. He wanted more. He spoke the second Bull was done.

“Taylor, get over here!”

He grunted at her while fisting his already semi hard cock to bring it up full hardness.

“Leave Bull’s scum on you, this piece is gonna lick it all off then feed it back to you.”

“Fer fuck’s sake! You’ve had your bastard fun, can’t you just leave us be?! Let me get my breath back at least! Sick fucking twat!”

Rod smiled at her but his eyes were thunderous, malevolent.

“You know what we do to cunts when they start whining too much and dragging their feet? We mace ‘em in the face and stick a truncheon up their ass and then do what the fuck we want anyway! You want me do that to you first? Or are you gonna heel, roll over and do tricks like the bitch dog you are!?”

“Tears and snot make a great lube for throat fucking. Mace is the best if you want that shit slimy and slobbering.” Bull added with a deep rumbling laugh of his own.

“Not good for you girls though.”

Becky baulked, snarled, bit back tears, sulked a little. Her eyes danced momentarily to the pile of Police uniforms with the mace and truncheons visible and much closer to them than her. Her shoulders sagged in defeat and she carefully shuffled over like a crab, trying to keep the thick cooling spunk from running off her body.

“Good doggie!” Rod laughed and then grabbed hold of her.

Once on Rod’s mattress, with Emma all but shoved out of the way by the burly Officer, Becky was pulled into an upright kneeling position with Rod right behind her.

“Get up here and lick her clean. I don’t have to tell you where the mouthfuls are going.” Rod grunted at Emma.

“You want me to swallow them?” Emma said naively. Fortunately, Rod laughed.

“You can do that. But only after you and her have snow-balled it half a dozen times. Now get to work.”

Emma got to work, the two girl’s kneeling upright, face to face, Emma’s hands on Becky’s waist to steady them both. Then the younger girl bent and started to slide her tongue, in long careful runs from her hip bone up over her flat and slightly fluttering abdomen, over her ribs to just beneath the pert, under-curve of her full breasts.

Becky barely managed to bite down a little sigh of sensual pleasure. Emma felt it in the tingling surface of her goose-bumped flesh all the same.

Fortunately Rod’s attention was wholly directed between Becky’s perky ass cheeks. He reached between them gave her hot and well used pussy a bit of a touch up while he fisted his cock to test it’s hardness. Once satisfied, he lodged it into her delicate peach and quickly penetrated her, pressing the large shaft forward until his hips mashed against her tight, well rounded buttocks.

Emma was sucking up cold tendrils of Bull’s thick cock-cream from between Becky’s thrust quivering breasts so Rod got his hands around the chav’s neck to hold her still and steady to receive his stabbing cock.

Emma, embarrassed and uncertain, her mouth full, came up face to face with Becky, her head tilted back slightly, mouth a little open, slimy cum rolling across her tongue. Becky gently took the younger teen in her arms, taking charge and drew them together. In fact the sensation of Emma’s delicate, soothing and rather erotic tongue had a lighted the fires that the likes of that dyke Rochelle teased her about.

Becky was determined that, unlike Rochelle, she was in no way bisexual. She liked cock and she liked the feel of it up her (if she wanted it and it was sticking out of the groin of a handsome or rich and fanciable hunk at least), but sometimes she did like the feel of another girl’s smooth curves against her own, the soft feminine kisses and caresses that lads just couldn’t manage, they were all cavemen after all.

But that didn’t make her a dyke. She put her pleasure of it down to that it was a gentler experience, a change to the everyday hard angry fucking she invariably took from lads. That and the fact that she had grown used to it over the years. All that forced lesbian shit they were made to do at parties for the lads, and the few times she’d owed Rochelle favours and had agreed to pay it in kind.

That was all it was, she told herself, as her lips met Emma’s and her arms came around the other girl’s naked body and she felt a fresh tingling in her loins beginning, completely separate to the feel of Rod’s huge sadistic meat thumping into her from behind.

She relaxed into the kiss and the warmth of Emma’s soft, lush body and she enjoyed it. Their lips touched and pressed softly, then harder and then Emma’s mouth opened, Becky’s tongue delved and scooped up the cum.

Their tongues met and danced, shifting from one mouth to the other, taking the cum and their mingled saliva back and forth.

In an abrupt and unwelcome interruption, Becky’s breasts were snatched up and hefted and squeezed firmly from behind. She felt them lifted and pulled, pressed against Emma’s daintier teenage orbs, while Rod blindly tried to stroke Emma’s nipples with Becky’s. The girls tried to ignore it as their kiss continued.

Emma finally ended the kiss. Becky gulped down the mouthful of mixed fluid while her hands subconsciously started to slide down Emma’s back towards her bottom, but the younger brunette gently pulled back and her mouth and tongue slid back down Becky’s body for more residue spunk.

Bull had had enough of sitting there watching. Rod was already getting some again and he felt left out. Becky’s hands were heading for Emma’s ass and that made him want it again. Rod was fucking one end of the line, he could do the other end, fuck Emma and turn the line into a double-filled sandwich.

He got up and shuffled across to the other mattress, his huge cock already fully erect, stiff as a board and ready for more.

He took up position, covered Becky’s hands with his own and held Emma still, as she felt his presence behind her which started an automatic panicked reaction.

“Hold still, little bitch. You’ve taken it up the arse before, you’re taking it again.” Bull grunted, spreading her cheeks with his hard hurtful grip and then his hot, hard cock head was once again pressing against her anus.

Emma caught hold of her panic and boxed it in. She took deep relaxing breaths and tried to think of Ray and when he liked to bugger her, tried to think of it as Ray instead of this animal. But the cock was simply too large to support the fantasy of it being Ray, and the man behind it too aggressive and insensitive. So instead she found herself fighting back tears and rising anguish.

Bull’s phallus relentlessly pressed her anal ring open and insinuated itself a few inches inside her rectum. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back onto the shaft as he forced it forward with a slow though forceful motion of his powerful hips.

Again, the penetration was almost easy, tight and hot and cinching certainly, but his shaft slid inward with relative ease and in only ten or twenty seconds of effort he was balls deep inside Emma’s hot gripping guts.

The teenager vocalised her violation with a long, high pitched, tremulous groan but then her tongue went obediently back to cleaning off Becky’s slender pretty torso.

“Reach under Taylor and play with my balls.” Rod grunted at Emma from over Becky’s shoulder.

Again, Emma obediently did as she was instructed.

The difficult foursome fuck didn’t last long. Emma fondled Rod’s scrotum awkwardly, while almost continually French kissing Becky, her arched position pressing her bottom backwards for Bull’s sodomising pleasure. The girl’s arms were around each other, more for physical support than anything else.

All the while, the men hefted and pressed both of their pairs of breasts together, flicking and stroking hard nipple against hard nipple while they pounded away with their usual hard-deep-fast pace.

They both reached their climaxes quickly and at approximately the same time. Rod first, he just ground his hips against Becky’s ass, pulled out at the last minute and shot his load all over her naked bottom and arched lower back.

Bull climaxed straight up Emma’s anus, pumping her guts full of even more seed.

He slumped back afterwards with a deep, satiated sigh and allowed his softening phallus to slide free of the girl’s rectum of it’s own accord, one tired hand stroking a firm, broad buttock, almost gently.

The men said nothing else. Even their orgasms had punctuated by little more than gasping breathy groans of passion. The girls were all but ignored.

They got up, preparing, tiredly, to leave. The orgy was finally over it seemed.

They wiped the residue seed from their flaccid cocks on Becky’s borrowed skirt, wide mischievous grins etched on their mutely satisfied faces and then got dressed and left.

They didn’t even look at the girls. Just grinned, dressed and left.

Bull dropped Ray’s car keys on the floor as he departed.

And that was then end of that.

The girl’s slowly and painfully shuffled around, working strength and sensation back into their aching limbs. And then they too got dressed. Emma collected her boyfriend’s car keys.



“Jesus fucking Christ! I’m glad that’s over. Every fucking muscle’s sore! Not to mention my tits! Feels like they’ve been shoved in a meat grinder!” Becky moaned.


“Fucking dirty bastards.” Becky muttered, trying to flick off the residue spunk that was soaking into her borrowed skirt. “Bet your arse it a bit pained innit?”

“Yeah.” Emma grunted hoarsely.

“How many times did them bastards shove it up there?”

“I’m trying not to think about it. Can we get outta here? I just want to go home.”

“Fucking right.”

They were barely at the door when they heard the roaring of numerous motorcycle engines. The girls left the mattress room all the same but soon found themselves trapped and at risk of being caught all over again.

They darted to their right, managed to slip into another side room and push the door almost all the way shut before the makeshift garage filled with dirtied leather and denim encased bikers and their highly polished and well maintained motorcycles.

“They take better care of the bikes than themselves!” Emma muttered, watching through the gap in the not quite closed door.


Becky was kneeling down by the door watching through the same gap.

Emma stood behind her, leaning forward to see the bikers as they lined up their bikes carefully, kicking out the foot rests and switching off their engines. The smell was rank and thick. Engine fumes and hot rubber burned the back of the girl’s throats but, somehow, they kept the urge to cough and retch at bay.

Then they noticed Carol Derby and a blonde girl. The blonde was wearing lilac pyjamas. The material hugged her lean athletic figure, the satin catching the dim daylight and allowing it to play across her meagre curves, almost certainly showing off more of her figure than she would have liked.

Derby was still wearing the mud splattered shell suit pants and trainers, but her hoodie was missing and she just had on the skimpy and elasticated vest top.

She had been brought in on one of the bikes in the middle of the group, face down over the lap of the rider, hands cuffed behind her back and her legs bent back, heels pressing against her ass, probably tied there, so she wasn’t dragging her feet on the floor. How the rider had managed to steer or stay balanced on his bike Becky couldn’t imagine.

The blonde girl in pyjamas had been made to ride pillion with another of the bikers, though she had been sitting in front of the rider, on the edge of the petrol tank, facing him with her arms securely around his torso. She was very pretty but she was obviously very frightened and had certainly been crying. The puffy and fear widened eyes made her seem very young, she couldn’t have been any older than twenty, though it was hard to tell.

The bikes were parked up inside the converted flat, the girls were hoisted out of their seats and freed of their bonds. The gang surrounded them, pressing in close so the girls were corralled by greasy, fat, stinking male bodies. They shuffled en masse, bullying them across into the filthy living area, through the tarpaulin beyond the garage.

The plastic sheet caught on a few oil drums stacked against one wall and stuck there, leaving a sizeable window.

Strangely, one of the bikers from among the last to return was growled at by a few of the older, more grizzled men. They shoved at him and waved him back toward the entrance for some reason. He seemed to argue and protest but it was obvious he wasn’t about to make any headway.

Finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat and he stomped off back through the garage area alone, taking a plastic garden seat and setting it down near the entrance.

He seemed to have been made to go on look out duty for the rest, probably a punishment for some misdemeanour or other.

He put his feet up on a nearby oil drum and grabbed a dog-eared glossy magazine, huffing and puffing to himself and taking long longing glances back though the tarpaulin.

At once the remaining members of the gang split into two teams maybe six or seven each, one girl with each of them. The men were laughing, prodding, ogling, slapping and stroking at the girls.

The blonde whimpered and tried to dodge their questing hands, she cringed physically at their verbal abuses, as though struck, or at least humiliated.

Derby was much more physical in her reactions and much more aggressive in her attempts to defend herself. She growled obscenities that made the men laugh and respond in kind, she slapped at their hands, which made them more fierce and aggressive in their molestations. And, interestingly, it wasn’t long before a couple from the blonde’s group had swapped over to Derby’s, they seemed more interested in enjoying breaking Derby’s feisty abrasiveness than the blonde’s whimpering cooperation, however prettier she was.

Hands snatched playfully at the blonde’s pyjamas, tugging the satin pants down to expose tanned flesh for a moment before she, panicking, tugged them back up again. A hand cupped and squeezed one of her small high breasts and she whirled to free herself from it.

Another hand darted up the loose tails of her pyjama top, got a hand on one of the naked orbs beneath and the blonde yelped and twisted free again.

She didn’t see the sofa that she had been wrangled toward until she tripped over it and stumbled back onto it’s filthy stained cushions.

The men pounced on her then, like a pack of wolves. She was buried under horny, fat, greasy skin, excessive body hair, stained denim and dirty leather.

Derby took her defensive aggression too far. She slapped one of the men across the face and actually drew blood, and things took a more serious turn from that moment.

She was slapped back, hard, one cheek and then the other, powerful strikes that jarred her jaw and shocked her. And then they started raining open hand slaps all over her body, while she tried to protect herself from them but there were too many hands to defend against.

Then the bloodied biker grabbed her by the throat tightly, took hold of the neck line of her vest top and ripped it brutally from her body.

The elastic and synthetic fabric bit into her naked flesh before it finally gave. He ripped two or three times before the ruined garment was free of her body and she found herself naked from the waist up. Now there were tears rolling down Derby’s pale cheeks too.

“For that, you just bought yourself a real long’n hard cluster-fuck, you dirty little whore.” Snarled the biker with his hand at her throat. “We gonna rip your holes up something rotten you nasty little slag.”

Then he turned to one of the gang busy stripping the blonde on the sofa.

“Spick! break out the blue diamonds. Gonna need five hours worth’a stamina to do this one the way she deserves!”

The man called Spick muttered something, grabbed the front of his apparently loosened leather pants and shuffled over to a drawer against the wall in the meth lab area, came back with a coffee jar half full of blue tablets. The jar was quickly passed around and multiple doses were swallowed by everyone.

Meanwhile, three other pairs of hands had grabbed Derby’s tracksuit pants and tried to make them follow the fate of her vest but her feet lifted up off the floor and they slid off her bare legs and nearly bowled the three bikers over.

Her thong did follow the vest though and Derby was wailing in pain and crying and cursing through flowing tears and mucus and spittle, as it bit deep into her most sensitive skin before tearing free.

But Derby was naked then, apart from her stolen trainers, and that was it for her.

Hands grabbed her breasts and pulled cruelly at her nipples, spread her ass cheeks and prodded multiple fingers into both orifices.

Derby was wailing and struggling and crying amid the horny, angry, drug-fuelled bikers, while they hoisted her up off the floor, spread her legs wide apart, as if she were a wishbone. Then a dozen hands assaulted her anywhere and everywhere they could.

Moments later she was dumped on the floor, seemingly on her knees, in the circle of a dozen brutish bikers who crowded tightly around her, all reaching for the fastenings of their trousers as one. Even Becky had to look away.

“Jesus.” Emma muttered.

“Wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even that freak slut.” Becky murmured.

“We really have to get out of here.” Emma moaned.

Movement at the entrance caught Becky’s attention and she looked over in time to see a tall woman, late thirties, early forties, standing there with a worried and dubious expression, talking to the lookout.

She was wearing an oversize dark reddish brown coloured jumper, like a cricketer’s v-neck, and tight jeans with maroon leather court shoes and a handbag on her shoulder.

The big jumper she wore made it obvious she was trying to hide the size of her bust but it was pretty much impossible, it looked like she had two bowling balls shoved down it. If it wasn’t for the dark drainpipe cut jeans she wore she’d look fat.

She had collar length permed hair with dark red flecks in it curling around the nape of her neck and at her slender shoulders.

No chin to speak of and thin pursed lips, but she had big, pretty eyes and a little doll’s nose and looked undeniably attractive.

“I’m glad you’re all back. I’ve been waiting for you.” She said, her eyes darting into the gloom of the garage area, she could hear noises of the men enjoying themselves and the two girls either whimpering or gagging noisily.

“Okay, woman, okay. So what do you want?”

“You know Zoey, my niece, up on Dowling avenue? She a crystal meth addict, she buys her drugs from you…”

“I know Zo, she’s a friend of the Hell’s, but she don’t get no drugs off us. We don’t do that shit. We just ride around and help the poor communities when we can.”

The woman started, looking confused. Becky could see the desperation and panic, writhing just under the barely calm surface. Then the biker’s play-acting seemed to click.

“No, I know you don’t, I’m confused. But I thought you might know where I can get some. I have money. And she’s in bad shape.”

“You a plain-clothed-officer-of-the-law are you?”

“No! Of course not! I’m just trying to help my sister’s daughter!”

“Okay. I think I actually believe you. Give me your bag though, I’ll have to check it for recording devices and shit.”

She hesitated, sighed, uncertain, torn by suspicion and worrying about her niece. Becky saw the decision being tossed about in her eyes, then her expression tightened into something like annoyed resignation and she silently passed her hand bag over to the biker.

He grinned, rifled through it. Pulled out her purse, opened it, did a quick count of the notes. The woman baulked, thinking that this was it, she’d be robbed and sent on her way by these evil drug dealers. But the man quickly passed the purse back with it’s contents intact, startling the woman. The only item he did keep was a white envelope with an official looking letter in it.

“That’s just my water rates.”

“You’ve paid it already?”

“Yes, on my way here. Why?”

“Then I think I’ll keep hold of this.”

“For heaven’s sake why?”

“‘Cause it’s got your home address on it.” He replied with a slightly more menacing grin.

“Let me explain a few things to you. We want Zoey on the ragged edge. We don’t want no one helping her score. What we want is her walking the streets selling her skanky little ass in back alleys to perverts to make the money to score. That way we can make more money off her when we find her whoring on our turf without our protection. Doubles our intake you see. Plus, we enjoy seeing all the little local sluts selling themselves in our alleys, makes us horny.”

“You disgusting, filthy, evil…!”

“Yeah, yeah. I ain’t finished though. I’ve got your address ’cause we already know who you are. Zoey told us all about her family one time, when she was fucking us and getting high. Her mother works nights in an old’un’s home. Her cousin Rachel’s her best mate but they’ve grown apart. Her auntie’s a stuck up bitch who think’s she’s better than the rest of the family. That’s you by the way. She showed us a picture of her cousin, Rachel. That’s your daughter Rachel. Lives at this address with you?” He smiled and wafted the confiscated letter in the air in front of the aghast woman’s face. “Your Rachel is 100% hawt! That deep tan, blonde hair, them big grey doey eyes. Bit skinny for my taste and you didn’t pass on your humungous tits when you popped her out did’ja but she’s a fine piece all the same.”

“You leave her out of this! She’s innocent, she has nothing to do with this!”

“Shut up! Hawt as she is, she don’t deserve to be all innocent. But be that like it may. I thank we can come to some arrangement. First of all, you can forget about scoring for Zo. Like I said, we want her sucking and fucking diseased pervert cock on the streets to make the cash to get her glass for herself. You don’t get to help her. But you can help Rachel.”

“What do you mean.” She asked in a suddenly terrified whisper.

“We could happily pop down to yours for a bit of an all-nighter, the two of you’ll easy entertain us till the early hours, I’m sure. But I’d be willing to forget I’ve got this address, altogether. Might take a bit of convincing though.”

“I… I don’t believe this…”

“You should. You really should. I’m serious. We were all very interested in your Rachel when we saw that picture. I remember we talked for an hour about what we’d like to do to that little hot piece. It’d make you blush the things we came up with. Made me blush it did!!” He laughed maliciously.

“I… I have money… I can…”

“That’s a start, I suppose. But to be honest I’m actually a bit on the chilly side sittin’ in this drafty doorway and I could do with something to warm me up, if you know what I mean. So, what else do you have to offer?”

Her eyes, wide, panicked, filled with tears, danced all over the place.

Her brain was in overload, looking for ways out, wanting to reverse time, undo all her mistakes since deciding to help her stupid bitch of a niece.

She was also looking for physical ways out, but she knew he had her over a barrel. If she just walked away, the gang would be at her house, maybe waiting for her and both she and her beloved daughter would find themselves on the receiving end of a violent, protracted gang rape, probably followed by forced addiction to drugs and then find themselves, mother and daughter, in the same mess as Zoey. The woman bowed her head and sighed in resignation.

“Fine, I’ll do what you like. Just promise you’ll leave my daughter alone.” She murmured, barely in earshot of Becky. She heard the biker’s responsive laugh easily though.

“What’s your name anyway?”


“Right Jill, get them huge fucking udders unleashed for starters!”

Becky turned back to Emma and smiled grimly.

“Well, they’re all well distracted at the mo.”

“Can’t just walk out the front door though can we?”

“No we can’t… Hang on…” Becky was looking at the wall to their rear.

“Think you can fit through that window, Em?”

Emma looked back. There was a single window with a half open awning at the top. Emma’s eyes lit up with renewed hope.

“Probably be a bit of a squeeze, but I’ll fucking well force myself!”

“I’d better go first in case you get stuck.”

“I won’t get stuck.”

“I can pull you out if I go out first.”

“Okay, fine, but promise you won’t leave me here.”

“Fuck off! What d’you take me for?” Becky said, with mock offence.

The thought had actually occurred to her, but she might need a friend down the road. They were in enemy territory and Emma could still be of help in getting home. Even if she was just a distraction to allow Becky to get away. And in her world, Becky had long ago learned that on offer tits, ass and pussy were the best kind of distraction.

“I’ll shift a couple of these crates to get us up there.”

“Okay, but be fucking quiet.” Emma hissed.

“You don’t have to tell me. Just keep watch.”

Emma turned back to the door and had another look.

The lookout was getting a thorough tit fuck, the mature MILF’s hands cupping that huge pair of tits around his short and fat looking cock while he gripped her nipples between thumbs and forefingers.

She was shafting her tits with vigour up and down his embedded shaft but her gaze and attention was completely averted, as though she was trying not to be there at all.

Emma looked off to the left, Derby was all but invisible in the crowd of a dozen bikers.

They were pressed in tight and most of their hands were moving rhythmically, tossing off exposed erections and waiting for their turn at fucking her throat.

Emma could see both of Derby’s hands manically fisting two shafts and there were glimpses of her wild brown curls dancing a furious, super-quick back and forth jig and she worked hard and fast on which ever erection was filling her mouth.

A couple of the men appeared to be crouching down, probably shoving fingers up her holes and mauling her small naked tits.

There was plenty of heavy breathing, the odd masculine groan, some laughter and a lot of loud, wet, heavy, gagging sounds from Derby herself.

Over on the sofa the blonde was being held down and stretched out by two of the bikers by her wrists and ankles. She was naked, her lovely deep tanned skin glowing lushly against the pale dirty concrete and dirty tan patterning of the sofa.

The other two men were leaning over her, one forcedly Frenching her while he molested her small shuddering breasts, worming his tongue around and inside her mouth, spitting in her face and laughing at her whimpering, cringing, terrorised reactions, while his fingers tortured her young breasts and the fear stiffened nipples.

The fourth man was at her crotch, one arm across her narrow hips, like an iron bar, to hold her as steady as he could. His mouth was locked like a lamprey over her shaved pussy, sucking and mouthing her while his other hand was shoved down between the tops of her tanned thighs to reach between her buttocks from below and finger fuck whatever orifice interested him.

“I’m through. Em, c’mon.” Becky hissed urgently from behind.

Emma had one last quick glance at the entrance lookout but he was busy with the huge pair of, now tear spattered, tits wrapped around his cock.

The teenage brunette got to her feet and quietly crept over to the boxes that Becky had shifted to give them access to the window, she hoisted herself up and then, as quietly as she could, pushed herself feet first out of the open window.

It was a little bit of a squeeze for her and there was a moment of worry as her belly met the window frame but she sucked in her gut and pressed on. In another few seconds, she was carefully easing her head through, with her heels braced precariously on the narrow window ledge.

Then she hopped down to the concrete walkway beyond and looked around for Becky.

The other girl was just a few yards away, waving at her to come over.

“So far so good.” Emma breathed, self consciously adjusting her rucked up clothes.

“Right.” Becky nodded. “Except that will have been the easy bit. Now we have to get off this estate without being recognised. If anyone realises we’re not from here we’ll be in a fucking world’a trouble.”

Emma just nodded.

“C’mon, this way.” Becky muttered and then led her along the wall down the shadowy, unlit walkway, as it passed between two buildings around the back of the biker’s appropriated flats.

It went well for all of five minutes but then they were spotted by a small group of bored and stoned looking twenty something’s, loitering near the steps to the ground floor.

The girl’s took a side passageway but as they glanced back they saw the men following them, at a distance, to begin with.

“Oh shit.” Becky muttered.

“You know them?” Emma asked, her renewed fear evident in her tremulous voice.

“No, but I know it’s not good.”

They rounded another depressing grey corner and spotted a half open apartment door and a worn, grey face looking out at them through it.

Becky and Emma hurried over and almost surprisingly the door remained open.

“Let us in.” Becky snapped, though she did come across as more desperate than angry.

The man’s eyes looked appraisingly up and down, then shifted over to Emma, who looked more desperate and more obviously afraid, her eyes glinting with unshed tears.

“Please let us in mister, please.” Emma moaned.

The man cast his gaze over both girls again and then stepped back and widened the gap just enough for them to get through before he shut, locked and bolted the door. There were six different locks on the door, mortis, Yale and draw bolts aplenty.

They stood in the living room. There were three doors off it, all closed. One opposite the front door, another in the same wall to the right, and the third to the opposite end of the wall that housed the entrance.

The living room was well stocked with furnishings and furniture, a sofa and arm chair, cabinets and bookshelves, a lot of books and video tapes, a plush white sheep skin rug on the thick carpet in front of a lit and flickering gas fire. The lushly decorated walls were adorned with both framed photographs and paintings of landscapes and countryside villages. All in all it looked clean, cosy and inviting. Not the sort of place Becky was used to seeing in these kind of council estate flats.

The man was standing in front of the door looking through a peep hole. He watched in silence for a while, his head slowly turning from left to right in a smooth arc. Then he smiled with apparent satisfaction, turned and stepped away from the door.

“They’ve gone lass.” He said.

He was dressed in polished black heavy shoes, light brown old style trousers, pressed with pleats down the front, a shirt with a woollen cardigan over it. He was probably sixty with receding wavy grey hair, maybe a hint of a rusty colour in a few of the strands, hinting at the colour of youth, and a deeply lined face but he still looked stocky and fit for his age. He stood there with his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve lived here a long time and I don’t think I recognise either of you two.” He said with a soft, warm Scots accent.

Those appraising eyes slid up and down Emma and Becky’s figures a number of times. Those kinds of looks were certainly something Becky was used to experiencing on these estates.

“Your names?” The man persevered.

“I’m Emma and this is B…” Emma was interrupted by the older chav brunette.

“Our fucking names are none of your fucking business old fart, bastard cunt! What we want to know is if you’ve got a fucking car or not!” Becky snarled.

“Oh, so you’re going to try the old bullying tactic on the old weak pensioner are you? That’s a little tired, not to mention ungrateful, cheeky, stupid… And downright dangerous.” He said with an easy grin.

“What’s to stop me opening the door and calling John, Pete and Mark and the others back here?”

“‘Cause I’ll fuck you up before you get anywhere near that door if you try anything.” Becky growled.

“Becky, what are you…?” Emma tried to step in but Becky threw her a look and shushed her.

The man smiled at Emma.

“You friend is quite a mercenary…” He said, smiled, waited for a reaction that didn’t come. “Film quote…? Oh, you young’uns…” He sighed in mock exasperation, then turned his attention back to Becky.

“You know what I did before I retired?” He asked her.

“Why would I give a fuck? I’m getting really bored with this! Do you have a car or don’t you, you old shit eating cunt?!”

“I was a police officer.” The man said with a widening smile, ignoring Becky’s foul mouth tirade.

Then he took a hand out of his pocket and with it came an old style police truncheon. There must have been a hole in his pocket because the truncheon was a good twelve inches of lacquered hardwood.

Emma let out a gasp, her hands going to her mouth. Becky kind of faltered, stammered something illegible, started to shake, her eyes going wide and the attitude vanishing in a flash.

“Oh fuck! Oh Jesus! Please mister… I’m sorry, please I, look… We just got dragged halfway across town, fucked by two men against our will, we had to sneak out of that filthy biker’s den, we’re in the wrong part of town…”

“And you thought you’d try to take advantage of the good nature of the only person to offer you some help?”

“We just want to go home, honest, we just want a lift or a car that we can take back up to Oakfield and then…”

“Oakfield, ah that explains things a little more clearly. I can see how you’d find your situation somewhat stressful. Okay then. Emma, was it?” He turned to the younger girl with a gentle smile.

“Yeah…” Emma said uncertainly, still afraid.

“You just take a seat on the sofa there, nice and quiet and relaxed.”

Emma did as she was told and sat down on the sofa facing the gas fire, but her head kept turning between the low flickering flames and Becky and the man behind her.

“Now then Becky. Let me see your tits.”


“You heard. Get your tits out.”

The man, paused a second but when Becky neither spoke or moved, he pulled his other hand out of his pocket, there was a grey aerosol type canister in his hand with a black plastic activator. “This is a full CS canister. Unless you want a taste of it…”

“Okay, okay.” Becky moaned and reached for her top.

They had both dressed hurriedly, so Becky’s shell suit jacket was already unzipped and neither of them had managed to retrieve their underwear from the patrol car.

She quickly let the shell suit top slide from her slender shoulders to the floor, whipped the straps of her vest top down so they looped loosely around her elbows and then peeled the plunged neck down to reveal her full heavy breasts with the prominent, pink nipples sitting proud and high on the smooth pronounced, gelatinous orbs.

The man grunted with lust, his burning eyes narrowing with exactly what Becky was used to witnessing, an aggressive sexual longing. Just about all the lads on these estates seemed to have that look whenever even a remotely hot girl was near by, like they were all insatiable perverts, always looking to fuck. Which wasn’t far off the mark in her experience.

“That’s one nice set of chebs you got, young lassie. C’mere.” The old man said, waving her toward him with his truncheon. At least the mace can was back in his pocket.

Becky sighed and stepped into his personal space, cringed slightly as his arms came around her bare back and pulled her, bosom first onto his slobbering mouth.

Without really wanting to, she found herself glancing over at Emma, who was sitting obediently on the sofa, turned this way to watch what was going on.

She actually had a look of shock and surprise on her face, as though she hadn’t expected such behaviour from this kind, elderly gentleman.

Becky was torn between amusement and annoyance at Emma’s naivety.

“Hmmm. Belters!” He said after finally unlocking his mouth from her bosom, and getting his hands to them instead, hefting and squeezing them in his old and wrinkled, though still strong, grasp. Thumbing the nipples into perkily erect buds “They’ll ‘ave seen some action I’ll bet!”

Becky said nothing and he went back to sucking and licking at her breasts for another few minutes.

Eventually his horny slobbering came to a close and he sighed happily, his bright eyes glazed with desire. He let out a little groan and wiped his spittle flecked mouth and chin with the back of a hand and then stepped back.

Becky quickly scooped up her shell suit top used it to wipe the drool from her breasts and then hoisted them back into her vest.

“That was just pay back for being nasty to me after I saved your cute arses.” He said and then walked around to his arm chair near the flickering gas fire.

“Come an’ take a seat lass.” He said to Becky.

She sullenly came around the sofa and took a seat beside Emma.

“Would you like something to warm yeh?” He asked reaching for a crystal decanter set on a mahogany sideboard there was a deep golden liquid inside.

“Yeah.” Becky grunted, still angry, but keeping herself in check.

“Yes, please.” Said Emma.

They took the two proffered glasses and gulped the strong sour liquid down. They didn’t care what it was or that it burned their already tender throats, it warmed them and gave them something reassuring and built up their resolve a little. Becky was surprised at how much better she felt afterward, she’d been closer to the ragged edge than she had thought.

“Now you were asking about a car? We can actually do each other a favour with regards a car. I have an old Reliant, a real collector’s item. In a lock up downstairs.” He said casually, pointing to the floor beneath them.

“Go on then, and we have to both fuck you to get the keys I take it?” Becky moaned heavily, anticipating his condition.

He just raised his eyebrows, as if considering a nice offer and smiled at her but then carried on as if she hadn’t said anything. Becky let out an exasperated sigh.

“It’s well maintained and has a full tank but a group of kids stole the keys to the lock up from me a while ago and won’t give them back unless I pay ‘em money, which of course I won’t.”

“We’re not tackling no estate gang for a set of keys, fuck off!” Becky snapped.

Again the man just smiled at her. Then he turned his attention to Emma, who had a similarly worried look on her round, pretty face, but at least she was keeping her mouth shut and listening to him.

“My idea is for you get ‘em to chase you back here, I’ll mace ‘em all, get the lock up keys off ‘em and give you the car keys that I still have, and you can borrow the car. If you leave it parked anywhere on double yellows, I can ring the station tomorrow and report it missing and one of the coppers’ll just bring it back for me. I’ve still got mates there.”

“So why haven’t you asked your mates to get the lock up keys back for you?” Becky snapped, obviously suspicious of a trap of some kind, she’d learned early on not to trust anyone.

Again, the old man just smiled at her and ignored her question.

“There’d be no need to mention you two at all, I can get that little gang of shits done for it.”

“How many of them are there?” Emma asked.

The man smiled at her and stood up, waved them to follow him. He led them into the kitchenette, which had a little square window that looked down on the interior courtyard.

“That’s them down there. See ‘em? Those two lads and that sultry little minx with ‘em. It’s her I want to get my hands on really… I’m sure you understand.” He said with an almost embarrassed grin.

“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t been to getting your copper mates to help you out. You want a piece of that skanky bitch!” Becky felt suddenly relaxed and confident.

There was almost always some kind of sexual angle and she hadn’t been able to see his, so she assumed her and Emma were going to be it. Now there was a slut already in the picture she felt much better about the plan.

“What are you going to do to her when you get her?” Emma asked.

Becky gave her an incredulous look.

“Anything and everything I can think of.” He replied honestly. “More than them two bastards with her, she’s been making my life a misery all year. Teasing me and everything. It’s way past time she had a little payback.”

As he was speaking he started opening the kitchen cupboards looking around until he found an old tobacco tin.

“What the fuck do you care anyway?!” Becky snapped at Emma.

The younger girl just looked away, her cheeks flushing.

“Okay, you’ve got a deal.” Becky said confidently.

The old man smiled, took a quick glance at Becky and nodded. Then he flipped off the lid of the tin.

Inside were tablets, they looked like the ones the bikers had been taking when they started on Derby and the blonde. There most have been thirty or forty stuffed into that tin.

“How do we get them to follow us back?” Emma asked.

“That’ll be easy.” He murmured, around the first three pills as he popped them into his mouth. “One of you stay here while the other goes out to get ‘em to follow you back, promise ‘em some snatch or coke or something. Just don’t let them catch you up before you get here, the lads are just as likely to drag you into a lift and rape you then and there.”

“I know how to do it. I just have to walk past ‘em old timer and they’ll be after me.” Becky said.

“I don’t doubt it lass.” He replied with a smile.

Emma had an excited look in her eyes, excited and frightened. She pulled Becky to one side as the man was unlocking the door for her.

“You sure you’re okay doing this? It’s dangerous. Like he said, if they get their hands on you…”

“I live on Oakfield, it’s just about identical to this one, I know how to handle myself. Why, you wanna go out there?”

“I… I don’t know… I would do, I’m just scared. I mean, what if I couldn’t run fast enough?” Emma’s stammered, blushing and wide eyed.

“No offence Em, but I don’t think you could run fast enough, you are carrying a little more weight than me. They’d catch you and they’d fuck you. And let me tell you, these fuckers don’t give a shit. You been on the receiving end sure, Barry, them coppers, that party even. But they went easy on you compared to estate lads. Estate lads on their own turf. They’d throw you down on concrete or concrete stairs, where there’s stones, needles, broken glass, they don’t give a fuck. They’d fuck you, hard, hurt you. The noise’d bring others. You’d end up servicing the whole fucking estate. You’d be there for hours, cock after cock, three or four at once, old men, young lads, everyone between. They’d spit on you, piss on you, stick bottles up you, even cut you for fun. They’re sadistic fuckers, makes ‘em hard to see girls suffering and shit. If you survived you’d still spend months in hospital. I’ve seen it happen. It’s better if I go.”

“She’s right lassie. They ain’t right in the head. None of ‘em. If you don’t live in one of these places you don’t know.”

“Be ready with that mace old man. I don’t fancy getting grabbed by ‘em in ‘ere either.” Becky said as she knelt to double knot her shoelaces.

“You just worry about getting back here ahead of ‘em. And don’t get lost!” He said.

And then Becky was gone and the door swung to behind her.

The old man’s eyes were on fire with youthful lust and passion and excitement. Emma watched him. He was scoffing down those blue diamond tablets like they were toffees.

“Let go in the kitchen, we can watch from the window.” He said, the drug fuelled excitement evident in his voice.

They went together into the kitchenette and pressed themselves up against the sink unit to watch from the window. Emma was busy looking over the trio downstairs and didn’t pay much attention to the old man as he casually positioned himself between her and the door, still popping pills like candy.

His lust burning eyes worked slowly and deliberately over her teenage curves.

“I’m going to have to make sure I’m ready for this little minx, get me warmed up like. Oh, the things I’m gonna do to her. It’d give you nightmares young Emma.” He was muttering to himself and Emma wasn’t listening very closely.

She heard the overexcitement in his voice but not the words or the implication.

“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” She said with a laugh.

“Not if you help me get warmed up, lassie.” He grunted.


“C’mere.” He growled and slid in behind her.

“Oh fuck. Don’t, Mister. Wait… I’ve already…Please…” Emma came abruptly to her senses as his arms encircled her waist, pressing her between himself and the sink unit.

“Hush lass, don’t piss me off. You’re a nice’n ain’t ya?”

She started to struggle at once trying to push her way free of the sink and the hard bulk of the old man behind her, but as Becky had noticed earlier, for an old man he still had a lot of strength behind him.

Plus the kitchenette was a small confined space and that helped him as the tall fridge freezer was at his back and stopping him being shoved any further in that direction.

His hands lifted and cupped her breasts, holding them in his withered palms, his thumbs circling the tips of her perky nipples.

“No bra! Naughty lass!” He laughed.

The suddenly personal and sexual touch threw Emma into a near panic. She had thought this old man would be nice and trustworthy and respectable but he was just the same as every other man she’d come into contact with today. He just wanted to fuck her.

She let out a squealing yelp and pushed at his hands, renewed her attempt to remove herself from the entrapment, and for a while she showed promise, her desperation started to get the better of the old man, but then he stopped her dead in her tracks by shoving the CS spray in her face with his finger on the activator and the cone shaped nozzle three inches from her wide open eyes. She stopped struggling at once.

“That’s better. Now hold still Emma lass and just keep your eye on what’s going on down there. Hold real still for me mind.”

Emma drew her fear inside herself again. She took deep breaths and tried to place herself somewhere else. At the same time telling herself that she would only have to accommodate this old pervert’s lusts until Becky comes back. Which shouldn’t be that long a wait, surely?

The old man’s hands worked quickly, and Emma could feel him pressing the hard bulge of his erection against her denim clad bottom, slowly dry humping his hips against her in his excitement.

Her top was lifted, the elastic under her bust catching on her nipples as he drew it quickly up onto her chest.

One hand clawed at her young, pert breasts while the other dropped straight to her waist band and worked at unzipping and unfastening the button on her jeans. In seconds her trousers were around her knees.

“Mmmm… No knickers either! You are a naughty lass Emma. Lovely bottom though. Beautiful’n soft. Like a baby’s skin.”

She gave an involuntary twitch as she heard his own trouser zip purring, then something hot and hard thumped against her ass and then she felt the relative cold of his hand as it snatched hold of his erection and slid it forward, insinuating it between the tops of her thighs from behind, the crown brushed against the lips of her vulva. She was sure that if she looked down she would have been able to see it poking out beneath her pussy.

His other hand closed on one of her buttocks and with harried panting breath, that blew wisps of her hair and tickled her ear, he started to thrust with his hips, using the tops of her inner thighs as a masturbatory tool.

Then Emma saw Becky. She was standing at the bottom of a row of concrete steps across from where the trio were sat on the bonnet of a burned out car, drinking from a big two litre plastic bottle and smoking a long rolled curl of white paper. One of the lads was making half hearted playful attempts to touch the girl’s breasts but she was just as half heartedly swatting his hand away.

Emma felt the hand on her naked bottom stroking her natural curve inward toward her ass cleavage, fingertips then calloused palm, until he found the crease between them.

He turned his hand so only the thumb and index finger were between her buttocks and his finger moved southward, the pad of his thumb trailing behind. The finger found and split the peach of her vulva while the thumb stroked little circles around the puckered star of her tender anal mouth.

Down on the ground, Becky paused a moment longer and then started her approach. Emma started to lean forward slightly to get a better view but she felt the hand on her breast let go and then catch her under the jaw. She was drawn backwards, immediately loosing sight of Becky, as her head was turned to the side to meet the old man’s, as he leaned over toward her.

He pulled her quickly inward to kiss her, tentatively released his hold on her chin and when she didn’t pull away, he reached back and scooped up a naked breast again.

The old man’s lips mashed against Emma’s then paused for a moment, before his tongue darted out and pushed between the girl’s pursed lips.

Emma, remembering the CS spray, obediently parted her lips against his and let his tongue fill her mouth, like a thick vile slug.

His fingers pinched her nipple and his other hand stroked against her clit, as his hot throbbing shaft stroked back and forth against the soft creamy skin of her inner thighs.

He kept up the kiss for a timeless moment of heart hammering fear.

Emma worried about Becky and was desperate to look back down through the window and see what was happening, but she was also afraid of being maced in the eyes and quite probably raped again on the kitchen floor. She waited until the horny old bastard pulled away for air.

It was a timely moment, as the second he drew his tongue back and his lips left hers, Emma whipped her head back to the window.

Even as she looked down at the points of colour against the grey concrete canvas outside, that were Becky and the other three, the old man was repositioning his erection, pressing it between Emma’s ass cheeks and using her ass cleavage as a delectable pair of fuck pillows.

Down below, Becky made her move. She was quite close to the group and appeared to have been chatting up the lads and sharing their booze. The girl was looking at her with something like suspicion or dislike. Becky appeared to take offence, took a big swig from the bottle and then spat it straight into the girl’s shocked face. Then she was running, the lads were laughing at first, but the running hottie caught hold of their predatory pack mentality and they sped off after her. The girl following along, screaming and yelling.

“They’re on their way.” Emma said with a little too much hope in her voice.

“We’ve got a little more time yet.” The old man said. “It’s a bit of a warren to get from down there back up here. Get down and suck me off will you, lass. Unless you want me to put it up you?”

Becky thought it had been going well until the girl had recognised her. The lads hadn’t just made a grab for her at once, and she had even got chatting with them. A few suggestive remarks and a few subtle moves to show off her tits had them both hook, line and sinker, yet they weren’t quite taking the bait.

Then the girl realised where she’d seen her before and that gave Becky the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

It had been the night she’d been trying to scrape together the cash for her mum’s loan shark. She’d been propositioned by a smarmy business suit bloke, she’d turned him down and he’d moved on to another couple of younger girl’s down the street. This little bitch had been one of those two.

Becky could remember seeing them later that evening while she’d been blowing one of the bouncers in the alley down the side of Corsairs.

They’d been in a car with the same smarmy business bloke. He’d been roughly brutalising one of them in the front passenger seat of his car, while the other one held her mate down for him. Or something like that.

This one had had punkish blonde hair with green highlights that time. Now it was longer, straight, dark brown and braided from her temples down, the back gathered into a ponytail. She was wearing baggy grey cargo pants and a waistcoat in mock leather alligator pattern under a fake leather jacket.

The girl started making nasty comments about that night, how Becky had set them up with some freak sadist, that her mate had ended up in hospital and she’d also been stuck in bed for a week. Becky retaliated with a mouthful of mixed cider and rum and then ran.

It took the whole time from her running to reaching the concrete steps for the lads to stop laughing and give chase, and Becky thought she might even have to slow down so they didn’t loose her. But they were fast and they caught up.

In seconds she was sprinting hell for leather along grey exterior corridors, past closed doorways with watchful eyes at windows, spying on yet another slice of urban violence.

Emma was down on her knees, massaging a big pair of grey haired balls. She pushed her luck this time trying to protect her still raw throat from yet another phallic invasion, by gripping the base on his shaft with her free hand. Luckily, he didn’t take account with her technique and try to slap her hand away and throat fuck her.

He bent down and played with her breasts and nipples while she sucked his erection. It was solid too, hard as rock, straining with pressure and very hot on her tongue and the insides of her cheeks. It wasn’t altogether large, only maybe seven inches from crown to root but it was thick, possibly as thick as Rod’s hand been, bulging with muscle and sinew, veins popping tight against the silky foreskin. She might be saving her tender throat but the ache in her stretched open jaw had come back almost at once.

Emma, though sucking away heartily, was very much aware of the passage of time. Minutes must have passed since the old man made her kneel down on his kitchen floor and blow him and Becky had already been antagonising the trio down on the ground at the time. She’d be at the door any minute, surely?

She felt his hand release one of her breasts and slide into the hair at the back of her head, stroking her brunette locks a little before grasping her skull and guiding her mouth. Emma, half expecting him to make her start to deep throat, focussed on making this present experience all the more pleasurable for him, sliding her wet lips back and forth, vacuum sucking his shaft as she drew back along the hard, solid length, listening to his throaty, appreciative groans as she worked, and stroking and squeezing his testicles with gentle fingers. He seemed satisfied with her performance and didn’t try to push her head to take him any deeper.

In fact, he leaned over her and reached down between her naked thighs, her jeans were halfway down her legs still so her pussy was exposed for his desire. Reaching over the soft succulent mound of her pubis, he stroked a finger over her clit and then deeper into the cleft of her young pussy lips. Emma felt a little tremor dance down her inner thighs as he caressed her. His other hand still clutched and squeezed at her breasts, moving from one to the other back and forth, pinching and pulling at her nipples.

Emma racked her brains as she sucked, trying to recollect if the old man had shut his front door properly or just left it on the latch? What if Becky was stuck outside banging on the door unable to get in. Would the old man rush over before Becky was dragged off? Would he decide to forgo the ‘little minx’ who the trap was laid for, in favour of fucking Emma? He already had her at his mercy. She wasn’t going to argue with a can of CS spray and certainly not a police truncheon.

Becky answered Emma’s questions in the next instant. She burst into the flat through the front door. Obviously, Emma and the man couldn’t see her from the kitchenette but they heard and felt the door slam back against the inner wall, shaking the floor under their feet. There were yelps and shouts, the sounds of struggling and loud curses.

The old man spat his own curse and pulled himself off Emma, struggled to lever his fat cock back into his pants while he grabbed the truncheon and mace spray and then erupted out of the kitchenette like a raging storm.

Even in the glimpse Emma had while she picked herself up off the floor and yanked up her jeans, she noticed the old professional training returning in his moves and manner.

She worked her hips in a little unconscious dance to draw her jeans up tight, flicked up the zip and button and then looked out from the doorway of the kitchenette.

Becky was leaning against the open front door, panting heavily and looking white as a sheet. The other three were already on the ground. The old man was pummelling the boys with a horrific series of heavy full power slams with the truncheon while they rolled and brought up their arms to try and protect themselves. Emma heard the unmistakable dry crack as one of their arms was broken by the heavy shaft of treated wood. The flat was filled with grunts and yells and screams of pain and whimpering underneath it all.

The other girl was crouching beside the sofa, watching wide eyed in horror and she then made the mistake of trying to run for the front door.

The old man spotted her move at once and grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, yanked her sideways, off balance. She hit the ground, rolled onto her back and then looked up jut in time to see the old man positioning the CS spray a few inches from her face. He smiled vindictively and then depressed the activator.

There was a loud spraying noise that filled the room, mixing with the laughter from the old man and joining the groans from the two boys and Becky’s breathless panting.

And then the girl started to scream. And she screamed and screamed. Her hands came up to her face and she rolled and convulsed in agony. The old man stopped, turned and then maced the two lads as well. Then gave the girl a well practiced and ‘careful’ crack on the back of the head and she collapsed unconscious. One of the lads had fainted already and the other was just moaning weakly, curled up in a protective ball.

“Becky lass. Shut the door will ya? Emma girl? The right hand drawer in that sideboard in front of you. There’re some cuffs and ball gags bring ‘em over will you, love.”

Emma watched Becky shutting the door and then wondered who the ball gangs and handcuffs were for exactly. What if there were five sets instead of three? What if there were only three but he let the lads go?

Then she noticed the old man was looking over at Emma with raised eyebrows and a hint of impatience on his flushed and wrinkled face and she hurried over and opened the drawer.

There were only three sets. Three black leather ball gags with bright red rubber balls and chrome steel fastenings and three sets of those modern style handcuffs, that had a thick strong looking hinge in the middle instead of a chain.

She picked them all up in her arms, surprised at the combined weight and the coldness of the high tensile steel and took them over to the old man.

He took them off her and locked the cuffs on the trio with a practiced familiar hand, then he fasted the ball gangs in place. That took a little more concentration on his part.

Becky and Emma just stood and watched in silence. They were beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable. Frightened by his actions, because it just as easily could have been them on the receiving end, but at the same time they were relieved that it wasn’t, and all his attention seemed to be on the three teenagers on the floor of his living room.

“How about you two see if you can drag that one into the bathroom. I’ll leave the lads locked up in there for now. It’s the door on the left there.” The old man said, pointing to the door opposite the entrance.

Emma and Becky tried to lift the chosen lad by his ankles and under arms but he was too heavy and awkward for them to move so instead they took an ankle apiece and dragged him through to the bathroom and left him dumped on the floor beside the bath tub.

The old man followed them in with the other lad. He had actually hoisted him up in a fireman’s lift, he was probably the one with the broken arm.

Then he went through their clothes, picking out whatever cash they had on them, which wasn’t much and then he pulled out a thick gold chain from around the neck of the one the girl’s had dragged in. There was a key tied to it with a little piece of twisted fuse wire. The man broke the key free of the thick chain and passed it to Becky.

“Your reward lassie, for a job well done.” He said with an excited grin. “Now it’s time for mine!”

The girls followed him back into the living room and watched him roll his young prize onto her front, grab at the waist band of her cargo pants and then aggressively tug them down her slender thighs to show off her cool creamy bottom framed by a dainty little purple thong. He let out a groan and then ripped the thong from her body with a moment of unadulterated brutality.

The girl, apparently conscious again, let out a whimpering yelp. The action kind of brought her back to her senses too and she started to wail and splutter around the gag and writhe around, trying to buck the old man’s hands from her soft pert buttocks. He slapped her hard on the ass a number of times until her wails became muffled tearful squeals, but her writhing stopped.

“Oh fuck this! I ain’t waitin’, I’m having her right here!” He growled to himself, shivering in his lustful excitement.

Emma glanced at Becky as the old man, with one hand clamped hard on the girl’s ass, fingers digging into the taut young muscle reached for his trouser zip.

“I think we need to be going now, don’t you?” She whispered.

“We can’t yet, stupid cow.” Becky hissed back.

“I’m gonna shove a fucking truncheon up your ass, but my dick’s going up it first you nasty little slut! I’ve been waiting for this for a long fucking time!”

His increasingly sadistic tirade brought renewed wails and writhing from the bound and gagged girl. But it was obvious that she was helpless.

“Er, mister…” Becky said sheepishly.

“Why’re you two still here? Fancy joining in or something?” He said with a laugh.

His fat erection was jutting from his opened fly, both hands digging into the girl’s exposed bottom while he crouched over the backs of her thighs.

“We need the car keys. You still haven’t given them to us…”

“Oh… No, so I haven’t!” He said with an oddly self deprecating laugh. “It’s hanging up there behind the door, the one with the metal ‘R’ on the tab. Now I really can’t wait any more, this little minx is getting buggered into next week!”

Becky stepped around them as the old man positioned his cock between the girl’s forcefully spread ass cheeks. She found the key hanging on an old wooden key shaped hook arrangement nailed into the wall behind the door and pocketed it.

“I wonder what CS spray would be like as a lubricant?” The man grunted.

The girl under him wailed through her gag again, whimpering and crying noisily, but the old man just laughed and then attacked her sphincter ring with his ruddy, bloated, cock head. And the girl’s wailing and writhing increased tenfold.

The wail reached a high, desperate pitch, punctuated by a rumbling growl of exertion from the old man, until it was an unadulterated squeal.

The man’s growl suddenly melted into a deeply satisfied sigh. And the girl crumbled into desperate and agonised peals of snotty, spittle-mixed tears.

“Ahhhh…. There you go!” He groaned in deep perverse pleasure, then laughed as his hip bones met her soft pale buttocks.

“Shut the door behind you lassie’s eh?” He groaned happily and then he started to slam into his captive’s teenage rectum with a brutality and aggression that would have impressed officer Rod.

The girls backed out quietly, pale and afraid and glad to be out of there. Becky almost as much as Emma.


They made it back around to the opposite side of the estate row quietly enough, following the concrete railed walkways, keeping close to the doors so they wouldn’t be spotted from below.

And they weren’t. The cold grey weather was probably keeping most the gangs and potential assailants in doors, or at least under cover.

Becky remembered the lock ups from their ride in. They were close to the Hellletic’s den on the far side of the estate. They would have to skirt around the back and then the side of the bikers den and drop down to the ground floor to get to them.

Becky wondered what that dirty old pervert was doing to his young victim at the moment. She didn’t care about the girl in the slightest, there was no regret or pangs of guilt over the little trollop’s fate, she just found herself wondering. And that thought led back to Derby and that blonde the bikers had picked up.

They had to drop to a crawl for a little of the way, as a group of a half dozen lads were passing by on the balcony opposite and they didn’t want to take any risks at all. The lads passed by without knowing they were in the vicinity.

They made it to the corner of the biker’s den, squatting down under the window they had escaped from, shivering with nerves. Becky waved Emma to stay put and then crept forward and peeked around toward the entrance hole.

The look out and that woman with the huge tits and the meth-whore niece had disappeared and through the opening, Becky could see the tarpaulin partition had been shoved aside, draped over oil drums. And she could see Derby right there in amongst a mass of naked and partially naked bikers.

She waved Emma onward, pointing to a broken section of the concrete railing that she would be able to use to drop down to the ground level a few feet below them, Becky stayed put to keep look out.

Derby was taking it, hardcore and it made Becky wince. It was almost bad as anything she had witnessed before. Couldn’t happen to a nicer slag, was her initial thought, but then when she looked more closely she felt a little ashamed for having that thought in the first place.

She was being triple penetrated as far as Becky could tell. One biker was lying on a mattress on the floor with Derby lying on top of him, though twisted to one side. He was fucking up into her cunt from beneath, while two others were crammed in behind her doggie style, somehow ramming their cocks simultaneously into her ass.

The rest of the men were standing around her upper body, in a tightly packed arc.

They were spitting on her, slapping her face and body, pretty much anywhere they could get their hands to.

One of them was pissing in her face, when she didn’t have a dick rammed down her throat, picking his chances and letting fly with the stream of hot, putrid urine.

he rest took it in turns to fuck her throat, viciously, brutally, savagely. They used her mouth indifferently, as though it was separate to the rest of her body, twisting and pulling her face in all directions, just so they could get her mouth down on their dicks.

Her hair was pulled, her nose pinched shut until she was beetroot red and writhing for air.

They throat fucked her so hard that she had vomited repeatedly on the ground and on herself. There were rivers of saliva and maybe bile all down her face, neck and tiny breasts. And pools of it on the floor beneath her.

She would have been squealing and crying if the men had given her more than a second without a dick down her throat to make the noise.

Becky had no idea about the blonde. If they still had her she must be further back, out of sight. Derby was handling three quarters of the gang anyway, so the blonde would only have three or four to take on herself.

She watched as one of the bikers reached his climax. The others grabbed Derby’s head and held her steady, one of them held her eyelids wide open, pulling at her cheeks and eyebrows. Then the biker pulled out of her ravaged throat, tossed off a couple of times then, laughing and grunting sadistically, shot his spunk straight into her wide open eyes.

Her desperate shrieks were drowned out by the mass laughter of the bikers and then, as she was finally allowed to squeeze her eyes shut, her throat was plugged up by yet another raging hard on.

Becky drew back, feeling more than a little green around the gills, and crept down to the edge of the ramp where the broken section was, dropped down to where Emma crouched under it waiting for her and then the two of them ran over to the lock up garages a few yards across the outer edge of the yard.

The padlock was fresh and strong and the key worked easily in the lock. The well oiled shutter door rolled up smoothly and the girls stood in the doorway looking incredulously at an old, sky blue, three wheeled Reliant Robin.

Neither of them had seen such a car before. They looked at each other, slack mouthed and incredulous.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ… This is a collector’s item? What a heap’a junk!” Becky grunted.

“It’s only got three wheels, for Christ’s sake!” Emma moaned, throwing her arms up.

“Whatever. As long as it goes and gets us home it doesn’t matter, right? Just keep your head down while we’re in it. We don’t want to be seen by anyone we know.”

They stepped into the lock up, sliding around either side of the small ugly old car. There were the usual water stained stacks of cardboard boxes, piles of old newspapers, a few items of discarded and broken furniture in the back. And the car.

It seemed to have been designed by a lover of rectangles. Everything about it was squared off, the headlights, the radiator grill, the mirrors and windows, the back might as well have been vertically sliced, even the slight curve to the bonnet had an angular quality.

“Erm, can you actually drive, Becky?” Emma asked as she waited for the older girl to unlock the car and open the passenger door for her.

“Yeah. I’ve been joyriding plenty of times. Usually as the ‘park-up-get-in-the-back-seat-entertainment’ but I’ve sat behind the wheel and driven plenty of times too.”

She opened the door and slid into the vehicle. Even the seats were sort of square. The dashboard was a squared off ‘T’ shape. Only the steering wheel and the dials were round. Saying all that, it was actually in very good condition, despite looking so old and crappy.

“Put your seat belt on. We’re fucking off outta here fast and I’m not too sure about this three wheel shit.”

“Okay.” Emma replied, watching Becky leaning across to the passenger side to unlock her door.

Becky put the key in the ignition and then started the engine. It coughed and then grumbled to life like an angry pensioner being woken up, but it started first time and the grumbling stayed persistent and reassuring. Becky checked that the fuel gauge showed it to be full and then found first gear and rolled it out of the lock up carefully.

“Should I get out and lock that up again?” Emma asked. Then felt embarrassed as she saw the contemptuous looking in Becky’s face.

“If you want, but I won’t be here waiting for you.” Then she put her foot to the accelerator and shot off across the concrete courtyard.

Emma shrugged.

“Those three had the lock up key already, they’ll have already gone through all his stuff. Don’t know why they didn’t fuck this over or set it on fire or something… Besides, he’ll be too busy to care for the time being anyway, what with what he’s doing to that girl back there.” Becky added.

“Let’s hope he sees it that way. When he does get finished with her. I hope he doesn’t come looking for us.”

“How can he? Doesn’t even know where we’re from, or where we live, or anything.”

“He’s an ex copper isn’t he? He’ll have our fingerprints all over his flat.”

“I didn’t think of that. Shit… Oh fuck it.”

They passed the outer edges of the estate without a hitch and pulled onto the same road Rod and Bull had used. Becky followed the same route to head for Ray’s car and she made about a mile of the journey before she spotted the white hatchback with the spoiler and chrome wheel trims in her rear view mirror.

There seemed to be three lads in the hatchback and they were looking in her direction, probably at the strange old car they had never seen before. The car followed them for a little while but then it turned down a side street and disappeared from view.

Becky breathed a sigh of relief. The car hadn’t got close enough for her to get a good look at the three occupants and she was assured that they wouldn’t have had a good look at her either.

Then a white transit van came out of nowhere. It sped around the upcoming corner, almost crossing the dividing line of the quiet road as if came toward them.

Becky cursed, hit the breaks and then swerved to avoid a collision. The swerve unbalanced the unsteady three wheeled vehicle and tipped it over. They had already slowed considerably but the car hit the kerb and was pulled onto it’s roof, sliding to a smooth stop on the grass verge at the side of the road.

The seat belts and slowed velocity kept the girls from harm but they were both shaken up and had to drag themselves out through the doors.

They shook themselves down and stood there looking at the dented and steaming upside down Reliant.

“Could this day get any fucking worse?” Emma cursed sullenly.

“I think you just jinxed us… Yep. You did.” Becky muttered, looking back over her shoulder.

Emma turned to see two chavy teenage lads getting out of the transit van, looking angry and abrasive. Her heart sank.

“We’re gonna get fucked again aren’t we?” She muttered, once again trying to keep the rising panic at bay.

“Well, unless some white knight comes along and rescues us. Yep. We probably are.”

“Eh bitch! You’ve dented my fucking van! What’re gonna do about it! You’ve dented my fucking van!” One of them was shouting as they both came across the quiet road toward the girls.

“Are you kidding?! Look at what you’ve done to our car!” Emma spat back with a sudden touch of fire.

Maybe it was shock after the crash, maybe her blood was up.

Becky waited another few seconds, until they were closer and then she looked them up and down carefully, sizing them up.

They were probably just into their twenties, obviously estate lads.

The loud mouth was thin, lean and blonde wearing grey flannel tracksuit pants and a woollen navy zip up jumper with a turtle neck collar there was a red baseball cap covering his close cropped bleached blonde hair.

His companion was shorter and stockier though similarly dressed, grey combat pants and a padded navy blue jacket and a dark blue baseball cap covering dark curly hair.

Becky measured them up and decided it was better not to trifle with them too much. Some lads were all talk and some weren’t. She got the impression that these too weren’t. And maybe the van had just been stolen.

“Never mind her, she’s just shook up. We’re sorry about the van mate, no harm though, eh?” Becky said trying to be placating.

“What’re you…?” Emma hissed.

“Just shut up will you. You rather get fucked again or get your face fucking slashed with a Stanley knife?” Becky hissed back.

The lads were standing close, muttering to each other and casting interested glances at the two pretty brunettes.

“I’d say there is harm and you should pay up!” Snapped the lad in the red cap.

“We haven’t got any dough.” Becky said throwing her arms apart.

“S’okay, we’ll take gash instead.” Said Blue cap with a dirty looking grin, happy to be the one to spring the trap. As though Becky hadn’t seen it coming from a mile away.

“And he means we’ll take gash.” Red cap said, his own grin dropping and turning fierce. “An’ it’s not up for negotiation or shit.”

“Come over t’van.” Blue cap said.

The girl’s exchanged dark looks but then started walking. It was a quiet area, not quite industrial. In fact it had been lined with terrace houses a couple of decades ago then they had been pulled down and flattened ready for renovation, which hadn’t come about.

It had left a waste ground where rubbish was dumped and weeds grew, and people avoided unless they were going to or from the estate, which of course, very few did.

The lads led the girls to the side of their van which was parked up on the other pavement, at the apex of the sharp bend.

Blue cap pushed the girls back so they were lined up side by side against the side panel.

The lads stood at either side of them, looking them over as though they were window shopping. Their eyes were lust-filled, hungry and predatory, like every other male eye in this town.

“Who gets which?” Blue cap said. “We ain’t swapping back and forth like we did on Friday, I don’t want your sloppy seconds again,”

“Whatever, we’ll flip for it.” Red cap said with a nonchalant shrug. He reached into his trouser pocket pulled out an old straight razor, and a handful of change.

“Here, hold this a minute.” He said and passed the straight razor over to Blue cap, making sure it passed under the noses of both girls.

“You call it right you get to choose.” Red cap said.

“Sure, fine.”

Then he picked out a coin and flipped it.

“Heads!” Blue cap called. And won the toss. “I’ll take this one.” He said grasping Becky by the upper arms.

“Ha ha! Knew it. You always go for the jugs.” Red cap muttered with a knowing grin, taking back the razor and sliding in back into his trouser pocket.

Blue cap backed up until he was leaning against a lamp post parallel with the van, pulling Becky with him.

“Right, tits out. Let’s see what you’ve got to offer.” He said.

Red cap merely swapped places with Emma, leaning against the side of the van and pulling her over to him.

“Use your hands’n get me hard while I snog you. I like dirty snogs.” He said with a malevolent grin.

Emma was about to respond but Red cap just gave her a look that silenced her.

“No need for talking, you’ll be using your mouth plenty, but not for talking.”

Then he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth onto his, moaning hornily as he kissed her. He was vocal in his desire, groaning and moaning as he snogged her. Emma, winced and cringed with embarrassment, but all the same she parted her lips for his excited tongue and reached down for his groin.

She felt out his groin, a little hesitantly, but nonetheless she reached down and cupped his shaft through the flannel of his pants. He was already at half mast and didn’t seem to have anything on under his pants.

He kept one hand on her back of her neck while he filled as much of her open mouth as he could with his tongue, all the while panting and groaning loudly. His other hand travelled in a random exploration of Emma’s curves, mostly going after her tits, ass and pussy mound, but also moving to her thighs, up and down her back and her waist, even the little bulge of her belly.

Blue cap meanwhile was feasting on Becky’s tits. Both hands filled with them and his mouth locked over a nipple, sucking and slobbering messily. His combat pants were already unzipped and Becky was giving him a vigorous hand job, one hand fisting his long but slender shaft, the other fondling his balls.

These two were impatient and horny so the initiation didn’t carry on for very long.

Emma had her top rucked up and then hooked over the back of her head and Red cap spent a few seconds feeling her tits and sucking her nipples, but then both the girls found themselves pushed down to their knees with cocks thrust at their faces. They both got down to sucking dick.

Emma had it easier than Becky this time around, Red cap’s shaft was nothing to write home about. She could fit the whole thing balls deep into her mouth with barely more than a tickle at the entrance to her throat. Becky had to push herself to take Blue cap’s rod all the way in. Though he was gentler with his face fucking than Red cap was and he more or less allowed Becky to maintain control.

The back to back cock sucking went on for a few harried minutes, with excited, grunting lad’s hands gripping brunette hair and splatters of drool flying, while the side panel of the transit van made little echoing booms as Red cap slammed his buttocks forward and back between Emma’s face and the side of the vehicle.

Red cap was also the one to carry things along to the night level. His energetic face fucking mixed with Emma’s well timed sucking talent brought him close to orgasm but he managed to pull out in time and took a mental and physical step back.

Emma knelt there, panting. She wiped her drool slick chin as she looked at the horny teenage chav, waiting to see what he wanted from her next. He went around to the rear of the van and opened the doors, then came back and pulled Emma to her feet.

“In the back. On your hands and knees.” He panted, pulling her to the back of the van.

Blue cap took his friend’s lead, pulled Becky to her feet and pushed her over to the side of the van.

“These two dirty whores ain’t got no undies on. Fucking begging for it ain’t they!”

“‘Course! Can’t you smell the spunk on ‘em. Fucking covered in it ain’t they!”

As Red cap was flipping her skirt up and grabbing at her of taut little ass cheeks, Emma was crawling across a small piece of dirty carpet on the floor space of the van with Red cap clambering in behind her. She felt his hands reaching around her belly for the fastenings of her jeans so she held still as he unzipped them and drew the garment down across her broad hips and rounded ass, until it gathered around her spread knees. Then he stood over her with his feet on the outside of her hips. But he had to stop and shift himself once he realised his tracksuit pants would get in the way.

Outside, Becky was face first against the side of the van, leaning on her forearms while Blue cap again, tucked the hem of her skirt into the waistband, then he pressed up against her exposed naked bottom. He was tossing himself off with one hand, to keep himself hard while his other rubbed at Becky’s pussy and clit, half heartedly trying to get a bit of juice flowing so he could stick it up her.

Red cap must have read his friend’s mind as once his pants were shucked and tossed to the floor of the van, making a bit of a clanging thud with the weight of the razor in the pocket, he knelt beside Emma, one hand cupping a breast the other reaching around her hip to stroke and caress her pussy lips.

He slipped two fingers inside while his thumb probed her anus.

What is it with men wanting to bugger girls all the time? Are they all fucking twisted? Emma thought to herself, head down, eyes shut, as she felt his thumb twist and push inward, until it slid smoothly into her hot little anal tunnel.

A few seconds later and Red cap was standing over Emma’s prone hips again, bent legs spread out as though he was in an invisible saddle. He squatted slightly, hard cock in one hand and pressed the crown against the soft succulent heat of her pussy lips. He followed their gentle spreading curve, splaying them with his hard shaft and slotting into her sweet, tight vaginal entrance.

Outside, Blue cap was already solidly thrusting into Becky’s snatch, one hand gripping her ass, the other cupping and squeezing one of her large, soft breasts while he pounded against her with powerful, lean hips.

Red cap pounded away at Emma with equal voracity, drilling into her with a fast vertical pumping while his hands shifted, cupping and pulling at her breasts until he was off balance then he’d brace himself with his hands on the floor or pressing down on Emma’s shoulders.

But then he pulled out after five minutes and Emma’s fear was realised as he reached back and pressed his cock against her anal entrance.

There was a sudden squeal of brakes and a loud angry shout. Emma, trying to relax her ass to make Red cap’s penetration as painless for her as possible, heard Becky yelling something and a renewed sense of dread filled the teenage brunette, stuck there on her hands and knees with her naked ass practically sticking out of the back of the van and on display for anyone and everyone passing by.

She felt Red cap twist around and then look back. He let out a loud abrasive curse, hauled himself off Emma, pushing her over onto her side in his hurry to grab his discarded trousers. She reached down and yanked her jeans back up as quickly as she could.

She saw the white sporty hatchback from earlier skewed to a stop in the road behind the van, the doors flung open. She kind of thought she could see movement just outside, blurs and dancing shadows. There were close shouts and curses and thumping.

Red cap leaped out of the back of the van and came around the side and then was thrown straight back into Emma’s line of sight again.

A black lad, who looked familiar, darted into view and sent a horrific kick into the underside Red cap’s jaw. And then he repeated the kick another half dozen times, fast, hard and brutal. Red cap spat blood and teeth, his nose and lips had split open and were pouring blood. He didn’t get up again.

The black lad turned to face Emma, he was panting hard and looking at her with slightly wild eyes.

Emma recognised him then, it was Freddie. Asher’s mate. The both of them had tried it on when she and Paul what’s-his-name, had caught a lift with them to a party. That had been the day she’d met Becky, she’d been scared at the time but they’d only managed to cop a feel of her.

He silently offered a hand and brought her down out of the back of the van. Blue Cap was also on the ground bloodied and bruised, not quite unconscious but certainly in no fit state to get up. Asher was there too, standing over him. He looked up and smiled a little shark-like at Emma.

Becky was standing, leaning against the side of the van and a handsome muscular white lad was standing beside her. They seemed to know each other.

“McDonald!” Asher said, wild eyes deliberately looking her up and down. “Great t’see yer! Nice position you’d got yerself in!”

“Yeah, then we swoops in an’ saves yer fat arse!” Freddie added, with wild eyed, pumped up glee.

“Oy! Bit of fucking respect Fred!” The older white lad said with a warning snarl.

Freddie looked over at the other lad with a new sheepish expression, that Emma almost found laughable. He cast her a quick glance then looked at the ground. Emma came over to Becky’s side.

“This is Gym Freak.” Becky said to her by way of a snide introduction.

“Carl.” Gym Freak said with an exasperated grin and roll of the eyes.

“Hi, Carl. I’m Emma.” Emma said, smiling back.

It was a nice surprise to find someone who just seemed kind and helped out girls in trouble without expecting something in return. Ray was like that.

“We saw the car had crashed and saw you both getting shagged, though it looked a bit suss so we came over to give you a hand.” He explained.

“I need a bit of a chat with Gym F… Carl here.” Becky said to Emma. “Give us a minute?”

They walked a way a little over to the hatchback and sat side by side on the bonnet.

Emma felt a little anxious. She knew Asher and Freddie wanted to fuck her, it was in their eyes and their smiles and the visible bulges in their pants. She just had to trust that this Carl was keeping an eye on them.

Asher dropped to the ground and went through the pockets of Red and Blue cap. Freddie just leaned on the side of the van beside Emma, smiling and mentally undressing her.

“So, how do you know Carl?” She asked, trying to form a polite, friendly atmosphere.

“He’s kind of a cousin, of mine. A half cousin more or less.” Freddie said ogling her breasts inside the cinched, pleated portion of her top.

“Oh.” Emma said.

She felt awkward and more then a little threatened by Freddie’s uncouth staring at her breasts, so she ended the conversation and averted her gaze. Freddie didn’t seem interested in chatting anyway. Just ogling.

Becky, knowing Gym Freak, saw through his supposed White Knight routine and was busy quietly negotiating a lift home for her and Emma.

“…Quicker you get us back to mine the more time I’ll give you to fuck me on Saturday.” She said.

“Five minutes in my car for an hour in your bed?”

“S’ppose so.”

“Asher and Fred want to fuck your mate as well, though.”

“For fuck’s sake! She can’t even stand ‘em!…” Becky stamped her foot with frustration and bowed her head, glowering and thinking hard.

“…Okay, tell you what… Best I can say is that they can do what they want on the back seat while you’re driving me home but after that they have to fuck off and leave her. She really can’t stand ‘em.”

“Okay. To be honest babe, long as I get to shag you again, I don’t really give a fuck about them two pricks.”

“Okay fine, but any funny business, pretending to break down or bullshit like that and the deal’s off.”

Gym Freak just shrugged.

Becky pushed herself off the bonnet and waved Emma over. The lads shuffled back to the car, Asher showing his spoils to his mate.

“Right Em, good and bad news. I’ve got… Carl to give us a lift back to mine but you’re gonna be stuck in the back seat with them two. And you know what they’re like, they’re horny for you and I think you’ll just have to put up with it.”

“You’d better be fucking joking!” Emma groaned.

“It’s the only way unless you wanna take a long walk to the bus station at this time of the evening. By the time you got there, it’d be the night bus with a guaranteed train-gang on the backseat. At least there’s only the two of ‘em here and you should only be with ‘em for ten or fifteen minutes.”

“What about driving the van? Can’t you drive that?”

“No fucking chance! Going off them two cunts who had it, it’s probably just been nabbed. I don’t want the coppers after us for driving a stolen van. Knowing our luck it’d be Rod and Bull who’d catch us!”

“Suppose you’re right.” Emma sighed and looked around with desperate eyes, searching for an idea or alternative. She looked long and hard at the overturned Reliant Robin before her shoulders slumped and she pouted and looked back at Becky.

“Can’t you shag one of ‘em?”

“No I fuckin’ can’t! There’s not enough room, on that back seat for one, and they’re both after havin’ you. Plus I’ve gotta sort out fuckin’ Gym Freak ‘aven’t I!” Becky snapped.

“Don’t have much choice do I?” Emma sighed after a long moment of frustrated disbelieving silence.

“Better that the night bus, babe. It’ll be ten minutes, twenty tops, then we’re home and dry. Think of a nice hot bubble bath and a bottle of vodka waiting for you back at mine. C’mon.”


Emma was experiencing deja vu. Trussed up in the back seat of a car, squashed in between Asher and Freddie.

Becky was in the front passenger seat, her head turned away from seeing anything going on behind her, At least Becky seemed guilty about making her do the dirty work this time. She thought to herself.

Carl was driving smoothly enough, but his eyes were constantly flashing back and forth between the road and his hurriedly adjusted rear view mirror. He was male. Emma couldn’t hold that against him. It was going to be a free sex show after all.

“Why don’t we just carry on from where we left off the last time?” Asher said with an excited grin.

Emma had blocked as much of that night out of her mind as she could and some of it was a blur anyway. She suspected Paul and spiked her early on. Either way, if they were actually about to pick up from where they left off she had absolutely no idea.

C’mere.” Asher said, catching hold of her by the chin and turning her head so they were face to face. His hand slid straight down and he cupped one of her soft handful breasts through her top.

“No bra! That wasn’t the same as last time.” He grinned and then mashed his mouth onto hers and slid his tongue past her lips.

Emma mentally shrugged, reminding herself it was only fifteen minutes and that she’d be better off taking it easy than fighting them and being given a hard time. So she kissed Asher back, flicking his tongue with her own and pursing her lips around it, to caress and suck at it.

Asher groaned and grabbed her hand in his and pressed her open palm over the bulge in his silky shell suit pants. Emma cupped and squeezed obligingly and began stoking up and down the warm hard ridge. Asher’s hand went around to the back of her head, gripping her hair and holding her mouth against his.

At the same time, Freddie leaned in and cupped her other breast, though he went straight away for bare skin, snaking under her top from the loose hem line, fighting up past the elastic barrier under her bust and then snatching up her perky orb, even catching the spongy nipple between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers, pinching and tugging at it playfully while he hefted and squeezed the lusty young orb. His other hand was stroking her plump firm thigh, high up so his thumb bumped into her crotch. He thought he sensed a little reaction, a little quiver, and her nipple was stiffening nicely, so he reached for the fastenings of her jeans and deftly opened her fly.

Emma shifted her hips a little to allow Freddie to slide his hand down over her pubic mound. His fingers quickly splayed her warm lips and he dipped two fingers into her and pushed in, as deep at her jeans would allow.

His other hand, as well as Asher’s, worked together to gather and lift her top until her breasts were exposed and her top was all bunched up high on her chest. They snatched up her breasts again.

Freddie leaned over awkwardly, twisting and shuffling and got Emma’s stiff nipple into his mouth. He started to lick and suck heartily, enjoying the coolness of her breast and the heat of her nipple against his lips and tongue, the slightly salty tang of her soft skin. He thought he heard her give a little moan.

He accelerated with his fingers and Emma lifted her hips a little in reaction. He grabbed her other hand which was lying dormant on the seat between them and pressed it on to his erection.

Emma’s hands automatically closed on the shaft and squeezed it. Freddie moaned with erotic excitement, then lifted Emma’s hand off again just long enough to unzip his cargo pants and pull his hard on out into the open. He found her hand and put it back on his cock, wrapping her fingers securely around it. Emma started to work on his foreskin, masturbating the hard shaft with a sure, pleasuring stroke.

Asher, still tongue fencing excitedly, followed Freddie’s example and levered his own fully erect cock from his pants then got Emma’s hand wrapped tightly around it.

“There’s an accident up ahead. Cop cars, an Ambulance. It’s gonna slow me down a bit. Sorry Emma.” Gym Freak muttered.

Emma drew back from Asher’s horny stabbing tongue and glanced over at the scene passing them by slowly, as Carl negotiated a mini slalom of traffic cones. Luckily, there were not many other cars on the road and they weren’t delayed too much. She was about to respond to Carl’s apology, when she spotted the car that was the focus of the accident.

It was an older style dark blue Vauxhall Corsa. It was wrapped around an old concrete lamppost. The post itself had been smashed by the impact and the upper half had toppled onto the roof of the car and flattened it. There was dark red blood visible amongst the spider web cracks of the shattered windscreen.

Emma struggled with Asher to keep her eye line with the crashed Corsa until she spotted the ‘L’ reg. number plate.

It was Ray’s car. She saw two paramedics rolling a collapsible trolley with a body strapped to it, covered head to toe in a red blanket, into the back of the parked ambulance.

Her first worry was that it was Ray, but no, it couldn’t be him. He wasn’t back for another twenty four hours or so. Someone must have stolen it, taken it for a joyride. Shit.

“Isn’t that your Ray’s car?” Becky muttered. Emma just nodded, staring back at it.

“Wonder who was driving…? Becky added, more or less to herself.

Emma didn’t answer, feeling slightly shocked and even more depressed than before.

She felt numbed to what was going on around her and didn’t struggle or react when Asher pulled her mouth back to his and started up their bout of voracious French kissing again.

Her lips were parted by his inward thrusting tongue and she hardly noticed his hand come back to her breasts again, this time snatching a nipple and pulling and twisting at it excitedly.

Emma whimpered and squirmed at his harsh caress. It brought her back to reality a little and in response she relaxed the firm touch of her hand on his hard crotch. Asher seemed to take the hint at first, releasing her tit altogether, but then he brushed her hand away and shucked his pants down enough to prize his erection properly out into the open.

Emma found her hand grabbed around the wrist and pressed back to the exposed erection. With a mental sigh, she closed her fist tight around it’s root and obediently started to jerk him off again.

From then, things moved on quickly. Freddie started to pull at her jeans until her hips lifted up off the seat and the jeans were peeled down to her ankles.

Asher, almost at the same time, pulled his tongue from Emma’s mouth, ending the kiss and used the hand on the back of her hair to abruptly pull her head straight down into his lap.

Her mouth opened automatically around his shaft and she went down on him, twisting around and bending over as she did so. That wheeled her naked bottom around toward Freddie, who appreciatively got his hands on it at once and knelt up behind her, his shaft ready, at full mast and quickly positioned. He took a moment to yank her jeans off her ankles and trainers, then he spread her pussy lips with his fingers and hurriedly pushed his throbbing erection inside her.

Like all estate lads, his pace was fast and his thrusts deep. It shoved Emma back and forth in her doggie style position and incidentally shoved Asher’s erection deeper into her mouth. They were both well hung lads but Emma had sampled much bigger today and didn’t have a problem with either of them, at least physically and in that position.

Asher soon found that sitting down dormant, with Emma’s head bouncing up and down in his lap was getting a little boring as far as he was concerned, so he stopped her and shuffled himself up and around, so his back was against the side of the car and he was kneeling sideways on the backseat, in the same position as Freddie, both their heads forced down by the low roof of Gym Freak’s hatchback.

Emma found herself on her hands and knees, practically crushed between them and, once Asher pushed his erection back into her mouth, spit roasted by two well hung, angry, horny lads.

Things started to get more uncomfortable from that point onwards. Now pushed down onto knees and elbows, her neck was bent up and back to it’s extreme, to keep her head level so Asher could fuck her throat and reach down to cup and molest her small, pendulous breasts.

Freddie was now painfully digging his fingers, claw-like into Emma’s ass while he forcefully pounded on her backside with his strong bony hips. And she started to let out little panting whimpers in response. That lasted only a few minutes, until Asher muttered over Emma’s head to his mate.

Emma wondered how much time she had left to go before they were back at Becky’s. It had already felt like a lifetime of suffering in the back of this small cramped car. It took her a few moments to realise that Asher had said something and another few for his words to sink in. And then, for the umpteenth time today, she found herself trying to fight down a sudden, rising panic.

“Double up on her. I want her back door.”

“Fine.” Freddie muttered back.

Emma found herself suddenly hoisted up and Freddie slid across and sat down in the middle of the back seat. Then she was dumped down face to face with him in his lap and even before she could voice a protest, his fingers were levering up his erect cock and spreading her pussy lips. He pushed up into her and then wrapped both arms around her upper body, pulling her tight against him, in a bear hug while Asher, with difficulty, moved up behind them.

“Hurry up mate, I wanna get to enjoying her!” Freddie grunted with impatience.

She felt Asher’s hot hardness bump against her buttocks. Heard him hawk up spit and the felt it’s slimy coolness splatter down on her ass crack.

His fingers hurriedly massaged it against, and then inside, her anal mouth. Then he pulled free and his cock head started to push it’s way in.

He wasn’t gentle. Time was against him and he at least wanted a few good enjoyable minutes sodomising the teenager before they became separated, so he was in a hurry and not too bothered about hurting Emma.

Luckily, she was still relatively relaxed and he pierced her anal ring and shoved his way in, balls deep, in a quick and assured pelvic thrust.

He let out a long, low guttural groan as his cock sank up Emma’s tight, ass hole, voicing his pronounced passion. Then Asher started to sodomise her as Freddie began to drive his own shaft up into her filled cunt at the same time.

The dual thrusting of the two large, thick erections, almost at once, became too much for Emma to bear.

After everything that she had been through this horrible day, her whole groin area, her throat and breasts and her ass cheeks were all suffusing her with rising hot pain, dull throbbing waves and aches that overlapped and built on each other.

Plus she was trapped between them, held fast, sweaty, overheating, uncomfortable, cramped and unable to move or get away from them.

She felt the tears welling, then running down her cheeks. She chewed her bottom lip, gritted her teeth, clamped her eyes shut. But she couldn’t hold in back any longer and she started to whimper and moan to their forceful, energised thrusts, groaning and yelping breathy, gasping, trembling sounds that everyone else just seemed to find erotic and overtly sexual.

Becky bowed her head a little and stared out at the darkening sky. Carl kept his eyes on the road. Asher and Freddie’s own loud passionate grunts intensified and grew more pronounced, as though encouraged by Emma’s increasing volume and despair.

Through all the noise Emma didn’t hear her saving grace, the sound of Carl’s engine slowing, but she felt a sudden right turn and then, all of a sudden, they were stopped and the engine was just idling, drowned out by her continuing moans and their rhythmic double grunting. But the lads just blindly continued with their excited double penetration threesome all the same.

“Right. We’re here.” She heard Carl announce after a brief uncertain pause. She felt a surge of relief but these two fuckers didn’t seem to be listening and the relief reverted to panic and desperation. She tried struggling out from between them but they were pressed in too tight around her. She cried out louder still but they just ignored her and fucked on.

“Right you two cunts! Fun’s over, get the fuck off her!” Becky yelled.

Asher, at least momentarily, slowed his hard, tenderising and wonderfully gratifying sodomy and glanced back over his shoulder.

“We ain’t done though!”

“That wasn’t the deal shit-brick! Gym Freak, sort ‘em out will you!?”

Gym Freak gave Becky a withering look.

“Sorry. Carl.” She amended sheepishly.

“Right boys that’s enough, let her be. Like she said. Fun’s over.”

“Awww. Give us a break, will you mate?” Freddie moaned from the bottom of the totem of sweaty, bucking flesh.

Carl’s voice went suddenly icy.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He growled.

It did the trick. Asher pulled out, slowly, heavily and reluctantly and rolled away to one side of the backseat. Huffily pushing his big, raging, gleaming, diamond hard erection back into his tracksuit pants.

Carl and Becky opened the doors and climbed out, then Carl leaned back inside to fold his seat forward. Emma, finally released from Freddie’s constraining bear hug, practically threw herself away from them, trying to yank her top down and her jeans up while she clambered as fast as she could out of the car.

Becky came over to help her out, threw an arm around her and walked her silently over to her mum’s flat.

Supporting Emma, Becky glanced back at Gym Freak with a sly little wink and smile. She threw a couple of quick hand signals to him “Thanks” and “Phone me.”



The first thing Emma did when she got in was to gratefully took the fat tumbler of vodka that Becky poured for her, She downed it in one, enjoying the tingling warmth that spread through her, right out to the tips of her extremities. Then she accepted and drank another.

The second thing she did was borrow Jeni’s phone to text Ray.

He sent a reply at once, much to Emma relief.

“Ray’s fine. Still at his mums.” She said to Becky.

The other teenage brunette had just reappeared after a long hot shower. She was only wearing her towel and was brushing her wet shoulder length hair.

“Who was in the car then?” Becky asked.

They were sitting in the kitchen at the small round table. Jeni was in her bedroom down the hall, apparently doing homework, and their mother was out as usual. With another new man, apparently.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m aching all over and I’m knackered.” Emma groaned, running her fingers through her dirty matted hair. She suddenly realised how dirty she felt.

“Is it okay if I have that bath?”

“Yeah, sure.” Becky replied, throwing a thumb back down the hall to point the way.


Emma was relaxing in the bubble bath, sleepily loving the feel of the hot water and the thousands of little soapy bubbles popping against her naked flesh. Baths were so good and so relaxing and rejuvenating.

The only thing that would have made it better would have been if she’d been at home, with Ray washing her back for her, which would certainly have lead to other things.

But her thoughts of other things brought back memories of the day’s events and growling with sudden frustration, she ducked her head under the bubbles to clear her mind.

When she came up for air. Becky was inside with some Burberry style pyjamas on, some fresh towels and a cup of coffee for Emma.

“What are you gonna do about your fella’s car?” Becky asked her gently, sitting on a hand towel on the edge of the bath.

Absentmindedly, her eyes wandered across Emma’s bubble dappled nakedness half submerged in the greenish hued water.

“I’m just gonna tell him what fucking well happened.” Emma replied with a little shrug and a dour expression.

“The truth? I thought you were worried about making him choose between you and Barry?”

“Can’t go on as it is though, can it?” Emma moaned. “He’ll have to choose. I’ll just have to trust him to pick me.”

“If you say so, Em. I hope it works out for you.”

“It will.” She said quietly.

“It’s got to.” She added with forced confidence.

Becky smiled down at her but had nothing to add. She offered Emma the coffee mug and the other girl took it and had a sip.

“Obviously, Jeni’s here so I’ve made up a spare bed in my room.” Becky announced after another minute of silence.

“Thanks. I’m so knackered I could sleep on broken glass.”

“I know what you mean.” Becky said then got up and headed to the bathroom door.

“You take your time Em. Come out when you’re ready. See you in a bit.”

“Thanks, Becky. Thanks for looking after me today. Well, as best as you could at least.” She said with a sad little smile.

“S’what friends are for.” Becky said with a little smile of her own.


They were dragged out of bed the next morning earlier than they would have liked.

Becky’s and Jeni’s mum was in good spirits, loud and happy. Jeni was putting out a full cooked breakfast, dancing all the while to the radio. And there was a huge, tall, black man in his mid forties, sitting at the table whispering what appeared to be dirty-little-nothings into the girls mother’s ear. She was laughing her usual, throaty Sid James laugh.

Jeni, looking every bit the super model come page three stunner, shovelled bacon and sausages and fried tomatoes onto five plates and then danced across to the toaster. Everything timed to perfection and organised with military precision.

Becky and Emma stumbled in, heavy lidded and yawning. Becky in her pyjamas. Emma in one of Becky’s bedtime t-shirts that was long enough for modesty but a little too tight for her. She was too sleepy and too hungry to care though.

It was an odd morning, on the verge of the feel of a real happy family event. There was chatting and laughter. Very unusual for this, or any other flat, on the Oakfield Estate.

The man had been introduced as Mitchell Dodd. Becky’s mum’s new flame. And he actually seemed like a good sort, well mannered, well educated, relaxed at the table and amusing. The happy atmosphere was probably largely due to Becky being too tired to say much or complain much or argue with her sister and mum much. She just sat and ate and drank.

Mitchell sat and read the local rag.

In the third inside page, fenced in by the countless adverts that filled over half of the overall content, he read out a piece of local news about a police chase that resulted in a fatal car crash that previous evening. Becky’s and Emma’s ears pricked up as he read aloud:


A high speed police chase near to the Sutton Hill council estate ended in the fatal collision of a suspected stolen Vauxhall Corsa into a concrete lamp post along a private terrace street.

The smash happened after the 1993 model Corsa failed to stop for police close to the town centre on Thursday.

The Police gave chase which continued for six miles until the suspect vehicle lost control on a sharp turn and hit a concrete lamp post at speed.

The suspect, locally named as Barry Mather, who was alone in the vehicle at the time of the incident, died at the scene.

The police driver, who has since been suspended from driving duties, was not injured.

The Police’s Professional Standards Board is now considering whether to refer the incident to the Police Complaints Commission. Inquiries are ongoing.

Becky snapped to attention at the name Barry Mather. She looked at Emma who looked back at her with shock and dismay.

Becky scowled inside. There goes my meal ticket. She thought to herself. But she was more intrigued by Emma’s expression.

The younger girl looked shocked of course, but it was like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.


Katie Greenwood couldn’t decide if she was looking forward to a confrontation or dreading a meeting with her ex. Last Halloween, Simon, the guy she thought was the perfect boyfriend, had more or less blackmailed her into a public, humiliating anal sex experience. She still wondered why she had gone along with the whole scheme. Simon’s blackmail was based on a video made while we she was under the influence of what thought was ecstasy. He had even forced her to watch some of it—the image of her own face, plastered with cum and hungrily begging for more cock was seared into her memory. She couldn’t have that file getting out, where it could destroy her life even more. Moreover, Simon had used his connections to secure her a plum internship. Even after his humiliation of her, he had kept up his end of the bargain. All of her dreams were going to come true—she just needed to avoid Simon forever and get on with her life.

So why am I meeting that bastard, then? It wasn’t the way she planned to spend a Saturday morning. The grey sky filtered through a thicket of dead trees as she walked towards the coffee shop inside the student union building. Simon had not attempted to contact her in almost five months. And now, just after Spring Break, he sent her a text message arranging a meeting. In fact, he ordered it; there was no asking. Katie knew exactly why he was looking for her now, though. The Daily Eagle, Armstrong College’s student paper, had reported on the front page the investigation into allegations of hazing at Alpha Delta house.

The investigation into AD was all anyone was talking about. The most powerful house on campus was on the verge of losing its recognition and national charter. What the public didn’t know was that any investigation worth a shit would reveal much more than just hazing. Katie knew a lot about the ADs now, enough to know that the hazing charges were ironically enough false. Though innocent of hazing pledges, the Alpha Deltas were in fact guilty of much worse—felony drug trafficking and rape, for starters.

Simon was sitting alone at a large table for four. Katie could tell he hadn’t seen her when she entered, and she lingered a bit around the corner, watching his movements. Simon had a way of sitting perfectly still, as if his heart didn’t beat. Yet his head always seemed to be moving, drinking in the surrounding, sizing people up, looking for something. Today, it was probably her. Steeling herself for an unpleasant conversation, she walked as confidently as she could over to Simon’s table and sat down.

“I know why I’m here asshole. Don’t try to act cute.”

“Good,” he replied. “I’m glad we don’t have to bother with small talk. They’re going to come to talk to you, ask you about what you saw in the AD house. You don’t have to lie, not really. Tell them you didn’t see any hazing of brothers. That’s it.”

Simon didn’t need to threaten Katie; she could hear it lingering behind his words. In fact, she didn’t plan to get herself wrapped up in the investigation anyway. She was afraid of Simon and mostly wanted him out of her life. Yet getting him out of her mind had proven almost impossible. In fact, the worst part of it all was the good memories of time spent with him. Those hurt more reliving the nightmare of Halloween. Out of all the days she spent with Simon, there were only a couple of bad ones, but they weighed so heavily that all of the good should have been cancelled out. Why can’t I just forget about him?

“Look, I didn’t come here to be threatened. I’ll stay quiet but you have to answer my questions first.”

“OK, shoot. Anything you want,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Anything? Well what I most want is to go back in time and never meet you,” she replied venomously. “But I’ll have to settle for answers. I don’t want to hear your sick fucking reasons for picking me or for what you did. I just want to know how you got me to say that stuff. I don’t think ecstasy can do that to people.”

Simon paused briefly. Katie had a sudden, dispiriting thought. Simon is the best liar I’ve ever met. How can I trust anything he says?

“There’s a new drug. You don’t really need the details. It makes…situations like yours possible. But it’s all gone now, and the new batches are a lot weaker. Disappointed the shit out of me. It was a…temporary product that I used to—”

“—rape girls?,” Katie interjected.

“Well, technically, just you,” Simon responded. “Everyone else took it voluntarily, actually. I lied to you about what it was, so I guess what happened before Halloween was pretty much rape. But Halloween itself?”

Simon paused to sip his coffee.

“That’s on you. Search your memory for how it went down. The only thing I ever threatened was to take away your precious internship. I never said I’d post it on the internet, send it to your friends, mail a copy to grandma. So Halloween is on you—you gave your ass up so you could get ahead. And, you know what? It was the right call.”

Katie felt sick. In her heart, she knew he was right. Part of her disgust for these past few months had been with herself.

“Don’t talk to me like that. Remember that you’re begging me not to turn you scumbags in.”

“I’m not begging for anything,” Simon replied. “I’m letting you know that I know what’s happening, and that you won’t be saying anything. That’s not a threat, it’s an observation. But you had more questions, right?”

Katie’s blood was boiling. She had hoped to keep it together for this meeting. She didn’t want Simon to see her upset, to let him know he was getting to her. She had spent five months locked away, throughout the cold winter, alternately thinking about this day and trying to stop herself from thinking about it.

“Fine. What have you done with the video? Who else has seen it?”

“Well, which video? You should know your Halloween performance—everyone’s actually—was filmed, too.”

Katie would have been even more disgusted and despondent, had she not already assumed as much. Simon had basically built those rooms in the sub-basement himself, and keeping records seemed like the kind of thing he would do.


“Well, at first I watched them alone and jerked off.”

Simon was shameless, completely unfazed by such talk. Katie still found herself capable of surprise.

“Then, recently, I’ve watched them with my girlfriend. It was such a big moment for me, so watching them always gets me really hard. She didn’t like seeing them at first, but now she knows she’s in for a good fuck when I put one of them on.”

Katie was horrified to know someone else had seen the tapes, especially, for some reason, another girl. Another feeling, which surprised even her, crept into the back of her mind: jealousy.

“So what’s the plan for this one? Rape her on the quad while the marching band plays? Does she know what you are?”

“Good idea, let me write that one down,” Simon joked. “Unlike you, she knows exactly who—what—I am. She was there on Halloween, in fact. If you’d like, you could always come back to my place and watch one of her tapes.”

Katie couldn’t believe a girl could be with someone like Simon willingly. Not when she knew what he was capable of. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder about the girl. Katie had fled from the house that night but saw and heard some eye-popping stuff. Simon let the fraternity gang-bang his girlfriend?, she wondered, before correcting herself. Future girlfriend. Katie wondered what his angle was—not only was Simon not really the boyfriend type, but also it was strange for him to pick a girl he had basically treated like a whore as a girlfriend.

“Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Maybe. April Nelson.”

Katie knew April. April was the kind of girl who made Katie ashamed of her flat chest and bony ass. April was built for sex, a walking wet dream. Katie was a beanpole, cute, but no April Nelson. Katie, 100% heterosexual Katie, got flustered when a girl—woman—like April was present.

Katie hastily stood up, cheeks glowing crimson. She could feel herself start to sweat, just a little.

“I’m done with this. Don’t talk to me again.”

Simon called out to her, loud enough for other people to here.

“So—gonna come over for a movie later?”

Katie’s mind flashed to one thought, one she had suppressed until that moment.

I’m going to make him pay.


Word around campus was that the Alpha Deltas were starting to go soft. Hannah Johansson knew better than that. She was surrounded by three ADs at the moment, and every last one of them was hard enough to cut diamonds. They were all meant for her.

She felt a little light-headed, buzzed from smoking pot with the brothers, Deacon, Will, and…the one whose name she could never remember. Am I, like, always stoned around him? His name didn’t much matter to her, though—he always had good weed and didn’t choke her too much whenever he crammed his cock down her throat.

Oh yeah, she thought, when the tall, pudgy Alpha started stripping her of her leopard-print bra and panties, the last remaining bits of clothing after stripping for each bong hit. He’s called Sketch. She half-remembered a story about him having some kind of school-girl fetish or something that got him the nickname.

Hannah knelt on the dirty rug in the party basement. Her long, straight black hair hung down past her narrow shoulders as she looked up at the three frat guys towering over her. She was already petite, and her position on the floor made them seem enormous. Her dark, almond eyes were open wide and her mouth hung just a bit open, as she breathed heavily. Her slender, graceful body strained forward a bit, and her ribs were slightly visible as her stomach curved in. Chocolate brown nipples, now hardened into two little bullets and turned slightly upwards, crowned her pert breasts, which the brothers liked to think of as a perfect, handful size.

Not many Asian girls came around AD—unlike the Ivies, Armstrong was mostly lily-white rich kids, trust-funders not smart enough go to Princeton mixed with a smaller group of scholarship kids to keep the academic profile strong. Hannah was from the latter group. She had come to Armstrong on a full ride, but with none of the disposable income of the average Armstrong student to live the kind of lifestyle she wanted.

Sucking off Alpha Delta brothers had become just a normal part of her life now. It wouldn’t have come as much of a shock to anyone who had grown up with Hannah back in Minnesota, though. Back home, she was one of the few Asians in her class. Her white parents had adopted her as a baby from Vietnam and raised her in a strict Christian home, against which she rebelled as soon as she could.

Hannah didn’t want to follow her parents’ religious moralism, but most of all she hated the stereotypes of nerdy, shy, submissive Asian girls. She partied as hard as possible for suburban Minneapolis. Although she was too scared to do anything really crazy—no needles, no serious felonies for her—she nevertheless managed to piss off her exasperated parents to no end. They always managed to hear from a concerned neighbor or fellow churchgoer about the latest boy she had been spotted making out with, or they would catch her stumbling home inebriated. They feared she was on the path to becoming a drunken slut. As it turned out, they were mostly right.

Now her juvenile rebellion took the form of getting high and sucking off frat brothers on a near-daily basis. Simon had “introduced” her at the Halloween party, after Javier had given her a taste of F, the “wonder” drug for turning co-eds into fuck dolls. She didn’t need to be addicted—she loved the drug and the fucking, at least for the most part. She also couldn’t complain about leeching off the frat’s largesse: not just weed and F, but liquor and some times a bit of cash, too. As long as she could stay in control and get what she wanted, being passed around the frat like a cum rag was just part of the college experience in her view.

The three brothers tonight were no stranger, although she didn’t have any particular connection to them, anymore than three dozen other guys who had shot their wads in or on her. She had become pretty notorious at the frat: a reliable suck and fuck who was always down for anything, to a point at least. Hannah thought of herself as “one of the gang,” popular and well-liked. The guys thought of her a bit differently: some of them even considered double-bagging it, considering how much dick she had taken in the span of a few months. A few actually followed through and wore rubbers, at least for fucking her up the butt.

Anal: the one thing she didn’t like about sex. The brothers absolutely loved to fuck girls in the ass, and Hannah had first fallen prey to their lust for sodomy on Halloween. During the massive orgy that broke out when Simon left, Hannah had taken a lot of dick in the ass—not that she could remember anything, though. Her sore, abused asshole let her know the next morning what had gone down. Since then, she had usually managed to minimize the anal violations by developing her cocksucking abilities. She now held a mastery of the oral arts. Guys with drained balls rarely went through the trouble of cajoling her into opening up the back door.

Naturally tonight, though, Deacon had already begun trying to jam his middle finger straight up her asshole. Her tight anus had become exposed once Sketch moved to take a seat on the ratty old sofa against the back wall and Hannah had to crane forward a bit to keep his dick in her mouth. That was enough to give Deacon a clear shot at cramming a beefy finger into her rectum, and he seized his opportunity with relish. She squirmed a bit, knowing eventually he would get it inside. Usually when she was in a group, she could avoid getting fucked in the ass by jerking off any guys standing around while she was sucking a dick. So long as they got some stimulation, most of the brothers weren’t really too aggressive. At least not any more—things had started cool down after a pretty insane beginning to the year. What she could never avoid, though, was getting a finger or two jammed in her rear entrance.

“Don’t you love how this slut acts like she don’t want it?,” Deacon asked his friends.

“Hey!,” Hannah half-shouted at him, pulling the wet, spit-covered cock out of her mouth. “Do you want a finger in your ass?”

Deacon shrugged.

“Naah. But I don’t want some dude’s dirty schlong in my mouth either, and you fuckin’ love it.”

Deacon and the guys laughed a bit. Hannah flipped Deacon the bird and stuck her tongue out.

“I’d take that tongue in my butthole!,” Will exclaimed.

Hannah heard one of the girls from before she was around, a skinny chick named Claire, was known for her rimming proficiency. Hannah had fortunately avoided that task. They had dropped the whole maids thing back in the fall. She was glad she never had to interrupt her fun to do some kind of bullshit cleaning job.

“Get back to sucking,” Sketch demanded. “My nuts are fucking overflowing tonight.”

Sketch was one of the few brothers who Hannah could honestly say struggled to get girls to go out with him. Consequently, he tended to blow the largest loads, since most of the brothers were cumming at least twice a day. Sketch once sold her an ounce of weed and told her she could pay him by wearing a face full of his cum and asking the Epsilon Sigma Thetas next door to borrow some flour. That little trick got her fucked by three guys at the neighboring house, with not a bit of flour to show for it.

“Damn, I got another girl to meet in, like, twenty minutes,” Deacon complained. “I need to bust my nut quick.”

“Fuck no, man,” Sketch told him. “My weed means I get to cum first.”

“I’ll fuck her then,” Deacon reasoned with him.

Hannah tried to pull out Sketch’s cock, but he held her head firmly into his sweaty crotch. His below-average dick meant that Hannah could, with some effort, take him completely to the root. Needless to say, Sketch pretty much insisted on it, and with the right amount of force, he could cram his cock into her throat and bob her head with his hands until he got himself off. He buried her face into his wiry, saliva-dampened pubic hairs, tickling her nose and occasionally making her want to sneeze.

“Have at it then,” Sketch proclaimed, not pausing a bit to ask Hannah about her opinion on the matter.

Fortunately, Hannah had a wealth of cock-sucking experience, even before becoming one of the Alpha Deltas’ favorite sperm receptacles. First, one of her adoptive cousins had “taught” her as a teenager how to give a blowjob. He had acted liking he was doing her a big favor. When she pretty much devoured her first high school boyfriend’s dick, he knew he had found the perfect girl. In addition, she had a pretty high tolerance for cum as well. She became a frat house favorite for never cum-dodging like so many of the skanks they brought in. While they casually called her “slut,” Hannah figured that they basically liked her and treated her like she belonged.

“Gonna stretch that sphincter tonight, girl. That rectum needs some wreckin’.”

Deacon always thought he was so funny, always had some dumb line to try to puff himself up. Hannah wanted to protest, but did nothing. She kept jerking off Will while Sketch skull-fucked her. Deacon, the fat, liquor-soaked son of a hedge fund manager, was pretty gross, and Sketch was wiry and unappealing. At least Will’s cute, she thought. Sweet, too. Will had tousled hair, like a Kennedy, and a toothy, friendly smile. He played club lacrosse and was fit, unlike fatass and beanpole currently taking their turns on either end of her. Hannah’s focus was on keeping her balance and bracing herself for the inevitable. She felt the tip of Deacon’s cock (unfortunately for her, one of the girthier ones) pressed against her rosebud. This is gonna hurt.

While she hated and rebelled against stereotypes of Asians, at least two of them, in her case, were true. First, she was great in school, which was how she got a scholarship at a place like Armstrong. Second, her pussy was remarkably tight, and her asshole even tighter.

Deacon had learned to always use a copious amount of lube for anal sex. He had no desire to hurt her—he just wanted to shoot his wad deep inside her as soon as possible.

One of his favorite moves was to go out with a girl and let her start to go down on him without telling her that he had just fucked another girl in the ass. He could always tell which girls were keepers: the ones who soldiered on, cock in mouth, despite the rancid taste.

“Goddamn, slut,” he bellowed, “your ass is like a furnace.”

Deacon hadn’t cum that morning, because the sorostitute he had fucked the night before was too nauseous and hung over to give him morning head.

“Hey, stop pulling her hair, dumbass. She’s not finished polishing my knob,” Sketch protested.

Hannah, unable to speak with her mouth full of cock, started to shift positions. Her knees burned a bit from the rug and her jaw was getting pretty tired. Hopefully Will would fuck her pussy so she could get a bit of a break. Fortunately, she could tell Sketch wouldn’t last much longer.

“Don’t cum on her face, man,” Will asked, “I don’t want your nasty jizz on my stomach.”

“Don’t…worry,” Sketch replied, clearly approaching the point of no return, “this is all going down the hatch.”

With that, Sketch clamped his hand on the back of Hannah’s head tightly and blasted the back of her throat with the first thick shot of semen. She knew to swallow it as quickly as possible because it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Sketch let her withdraw her cock a little bit so that she wouldn’t puke. Thanks to using one hand on Will and one to balance herself because of Deacon’s increasingly forceful anal pounding, Hannah didn’t have a free hand to jerk off Sketch’s cock like he liked. Nevertheless, he continued firing shots of cum into her mouth. She could feel his veiny member twitch violently against her tongue, as he filled her mouth with his rank, salty seed. This time she held it in.

Sketch—hell most of the guys—loved for girls to show them the cum after filling up their mouths. Hannah was all set to open her mouth and show Sketch how she had preserved his seed when Deacon gave a vigorous final thrust, jostling her wildly.


“Vietnamese, dipshit,” Will replied wryly. “Not Japanese.”

Deacon didn’t care, of course. He just loved saying whatever “Asian” shit he could think of whenever he came from fucking Hannah.

“Fuck, dude, you made her spill my cum on the fucking rug,” Sketch complained.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah apologized, her mouth now mostly free of cum. “He just slammed into me at the wrong time.”

“I mean, this is what you’re here for, and you can’t keep the goddamn cum in your mouth for two seconds?”

“Hey!,” Will objected, stroking Hannah’s hair a bit to make her feel better. “don’t be so hard on her. I think you’re a great little cocksucker.”

Sketch stifled his disappointment as Hannah smiled weakly at Will. Her hand looked so small and dainty wrapped around his impressive tool. She stared into his abs a bit—don’t see too many fit guys here, she thought. Deacon pulled out of her ass and started shuffling around the room, looking for something. Hannah didn’t want Sketch to get mad at her, so she took his deflating cock into her mouth to clean him off.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I’ll do it right next time.”

Sketch grumbled something indecipherable before taking off upstairs with Deacon. Only Will remained.

“So, I bet you’re, like, tired,” he said, with a note of what seemed like genuine concern. “If you want, you can just jerk me off onto your face.”

Hannah appreciated what she saw as an expression of kindness. For his part, Will just loved blowing his load over the gorgeous Vietnamese girl. A faceful of his cum made Hannah all the more beautiful.

“Thanks. I’ll owe you one too,” she said with a smile.

Although Will was plenty aroused by the naked, freshly fucked Asian co-ed double-fisting his fuck pole, a hand-job couldn’t compare to a hole. It took her a few minutes to bring him to climax. As promised, though, he covered her mouth and chin with a thick, gooey coating of sperm. Like a true gentleman, he avoided shooting it into her eyes.

“Is that finally over?,” came a cold, mocking woman’s voice from behind Hannah.

She startled a bit and almost lost her balance.

“We have things to discuss.”

Hannah turned. For whatever reason, being naked, even covered in cum, around the guys was no big deal to her. Having a girl see her look and act like a common street whore, however, reminded her of how other people likely viewed her. Hannah felt a rush of shame and humiliation.

The girl, red-haired, fair-skinned, and gorgeous, was Miranda. Few people knew much about her, other than the fact that she and Simon seemed to have known each other for a long time. She had been one of the maids, the only one not to get fucked. Now people knew why: they had a connection. Speculation was rampant among the other brothers about why she had been there at all; most settled on seeing her as a kind of spy to keep everyone honest, although there were some more esoteric theories as well.

“Me and you?,” Hannah asked. “What things?”

“Not just me and you. Simon too. Get some clothes on—or don’t. Same to me.”

Hannah looked for her clothes.

“Shit, Doctor Doom wants you,” Will said. The brothers had started calling Simon that behind his back a while back, and it stuck. Secretly, Simon liked the name. After a moment, Hannah found her underwear and crumpled dress.

Motherfucker!, she thought. He must think that’s funny. While Hannah had been distracted with Will, Deacon had used her dress to wipe off his cock on the way out. There was no way she was going to wear a dress now stained with lube, cum, and her own ass. Bra and panties it is, she thought, slipping into the only clean things she had.

“Hey, I’ve got a clean lacrosse jersey in my bag,” Will offered.

What a sweetheart, she thought. Hannah went to give Will a thank-you kiss. He recoiled.

“Ummm, remember your face is…well, you know.”

Hannah blushed. Not wanting to use her ruined dress and risk getting any ass flavor in her mouth, she did the sensible thing and pushed as much of the cum as she could into her mouth and swallowed.

“OK, I’m ready.”

Miranda led Hannah downstairs, into the sub-basement below. In one of the small rooms off the main entry room, the two girls found Simon and Javier, intensely poring over something on the desk facing the door.

“Thanks, that was quick,” Simon said to the red-head. “Have a seat.”

Hannah sat down on the metal folding chair facing the desk and crossed her bare legs. A small puddle of lube, which Deacon’s rampaging cock had forced deep into her rectum, began its slow descent down to her anus. She could feel it making the spot she sat on wet, a constant reminder to go along with the dull pain of the thorough buttfucking she had just received.

“I wanted to talk to you because we really like you here at AD, Hannah.”

She smiled, feeling like she was being rewarded.

“You really fit in here, and nobody has ever had a complaint or bad word to say about you. I thought you deserved an opportunity.”

“What do you mean?,” she asked, eager to learn what Simon had in store for her.

“Well, we might need your help with something. You know about this bullshit investigation, right? Well, Miranda and Javi have been working on this for a while. I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say there are things we think you could do to help us, and if you did these things, we could reward you. And we mean rewards you’ll want.”

“What kind of stuff do you need me to do?,” she asked.

“Things you’ll like to do. Things you’re good at. Easy things, for someone as smart and…talented as you.”

“So I do you favors and I get…what, exactly?”

“Well, it depends. If you try your best and it doesn’t work out, then something small. A couple grand. Some F. Maybe we find a way to get you better grades or something trivial like that. But if you succeed? Then you can ask for something big—new car big, cushy job opportunity big—and I’m sure we can find a way to satisfy you.”

Hannah eyes lit up. She had never really been deprived, but her lower middle class, midwestern parents weren’t exactly living a lavish lifestyle. Simon was rich beyond her imagination, and she knew he must have really needed her help to come to her.

“What do you need me to do?,” she asked. “I’m in.”

Simon was pleased. He whispered a few things to Javier, who touched Miranda lightly on the arm. The two of them left the room, leaving Hannah alone with Simon. Simon got up from his chair and walked over towards Hannah. She was unsure whether she should get up or stay put until he came over and sat in the chair beside her. Her eyes locked with his as he placed his warm, dry palm onto the top of her left thigh and gently squeezed, moving it up and down her leg. She shuddered a bit, not knowing what would come next.

He gestured for her to take the jersey off, and she did. Hannah didn’t ask if he wanted the bra off, but instead went ahead and removed it. She expected Simon to paw her tits or even start sucking them, but instead, he stayed a bit distant, only using his hand to part her legs. Without waiting to be told, she removed her panties, giving him a full view of her waxed pussy, now dewy from arousal.

All that fucking and sucking had left her wanting her turn. It wasn’t the first time the guys had gotten off without bothering with her pussy. Still, he seemed only interested in appraising her, sizing her up. She had never spent much time around Simon, but the Doctor Doom nickname seemed to fit him. He was intense, a little scary, and almost preternaturally in control.

Something about Simon’s eyes told Hannah not to look away, even as she longed to break their gaze. The cool air of the sub-basement made her nipples stand out hard. Simon moved slowly, but deliberately, tracing his fingers slowly closer to her yearning pussy. All the focus was on her, and when his finger finally flicked across her clit, gently, then more insistently, she was ready to yield to him. She finally lowered her eyes, closing them a bit and biting her lip as Simon played her like a violin.

Simon brushed her hair back and she inclined her neck almost instinctively. His motions became more insistent, and he settled into a smooth, easy rhythm of manual stimulation. She was moments from cumming—her body felt like it would dissolve into a quivering mass on the floor. When he was less than a couple inches from her ear, he began to whisper.

“So, I hear you really know how to suck a cock…”


Hannah came hard. Anything you want, she thought.


“So, what kind of stuff does he like? Do you, like, play dress-up for him a lot?”

Chastity Plattfield was happy to have a new friend. After months of depression, her life had taken a turn for the better after Javier had become her boyfriend. Now she even had a best friend with whom to share secrets and gossip.

“Not too much, really. I mean, I usually wear thongs and stuff for him, but he takes them off pretty quick,” she responded.

Her cheeks were just slightly flushed—even after months of public sex as a “maid” at the Alpha Delta house, just talking about her underwear to another girl made her little embarrassed. Fortunately, her new friend could understand everything she had gone through. After all, Claire had been one of Simon’s maids too. If anything, Claire had gone through the most shit of them all, since Simon used her girlfriend April’s unwillingness to get dirty at the frat to extract more and more humiliating concessions from Claire.

Now April was Simon’s girlfriend, which Chastity could tell confused and disheartened Claire. They used to talk about it when Simon and April first started dating, but now Chastity knew to avoid the topic.

“So what brought on the sudden urge to get all that stuff?,” Claire asked.

Chastity looked around at the nearby tables to make sure no one was listening. The dining hall was a hive of activity, and no one seemed much interested in the girls.

“Things are…different now,” she said with a note of concern. “He’s always busy and…”

Chastity paused, searching for a delicate way of telling her friend what was happening.

“I…ummm…taste other girls on him. You know what I mean, right?”

Claire gave a knowing look, nodding her head and moving her hand to take hold of Chastity’s.

“You knew he was working with Simon—I mean, you know what comes along with that, right?”

“Yeah,” Chastity replied. “But I thought he would change. Like I would be enough.”

Claire smiled weakly.

“So that’s why we went to Sindee’s. Makes sense.”

Chastity had planned their little trip out, even bringing a larger, empty plastic bag to disguise the hot pink bag from the porno shop on the strip. Claire had gone along for moral support. As it turned out, Chastity needed it, because in Sindee’s she had run into a girl she knew, Katie Greenwood. Fortunately Katie was just as shocked as the girls, as she was in the process of purchasing a rather large dildo when they entered the store. Chastity was sure that Katie had seen them getting gangbanged last Halloween. Thankfully, Katie had embarrassed herself even worse. In the porno shop, holding a dildo, she had asked Claire and her all about Simon’s new girlfriend. It was a little pathetic, Chastity felt.

“I just want to try some new stuff. Make him interested again,” Chastity said to Claire.

Hidden away in the recesses of her closet now was an assortment of sexy outfits purchased to make Javier go wild.

“If he doesn’t want to fuck you, he’s crazy,” Claire reassured her.

Chastity blushed even more. Claire could be a bit forward, blunt even, but she had also proven to be a loyal friend. They met after the Halloween orgy experience and bonded. Chastity found it nice to be able to talk to someone about her life who she knew could understand and assumed that Claire felt the same. Once that first, extra-strength batch of F ran out, Simon turned the business over to Javier and a select group of brothers. The new batch was much weaker. At first the girls had all been disappointed, but the attenuated dose made it easier to kick the habit that had gotten them all in so much trouble. Now clean, their days as maids—whores—were at an end. They got over their cravings together and became inseparable.

Chastity looked into Claire’s eyes. There was something about the feisty, diminutive brunette that stirred previously unknown feelings in Chastity. Other girls might have had bigger tits or longer legs, but Claire had a really striking face. Stupid boys just see her as cute, Chastity thought. I think she’s beautiful.

“I wanted you to go there with me for another reason,” she said, dropping her voice to get Claire’s complete attention. “I know I’m not going to be enough alone. He’s going to…have other girls. It’s OK, like, I did know what it would be like from the start. But I think I can deal with it if he does it with me, you know? I mean, I’d be cool with it, I think.”

Chastity paused. She had no idea how her friend would react to what she was about to say. Claire, despite her dirty mouth, had seemed almost celibate since she escaped from the Alpha Deltas.

“But first I want to try it out,” she said seriously. “With you.”

Claire seemed startled, causing Chastity to fear the worst.

“When?,” she asked finally.

Claire’s response made Chastity breathe a sigh of relief. That sounds like a yes to me.

“Well, how about tonight. At the store, I even got you a little something too. Come by my place in a few hours—say, 9:00. He’ll be there by 9:30.”

Chastity was a bundle of nerves for the next few hours. She cleaned her room—like he cares, she thought—and got everything ready for Claire and Javier’s arrival. At 9:10, Chastity began to fear Claire was backing out. She felt relieved when her phone started playing a bouncy Katy Perry song—her ringtone for texts from Claire.

“guess who im w/,” the text read.



Javier? Chastity thought Javier was busy working on Simon’s latest little project.

“when r u coming?”

“dwnstrs now—just a min”

Chastity felt her pulse raise. This is really happening. Javier was never early to anything. Her curiosity piqued, Chastity unlocked the door and cracked it so that they could both walk right in. She heard their voices, unmistakeable, at the end of the hall. Only a moment…

“…so then he tells her she’s going to make sure the vote comes up our way.”

It was Javier’s voice.

“If I know him, that’ll mean that girl’s got a lot of dick to suck in the next two weeks,” Claire responded. “Hey girl!”

Javier and Claire entered the room chuckling.

“What? Fill me in,” Chastity begged.

“Simon’s got a plan to shake this bullshit investigation—more than that even. We got it worked out,” Javier told her, before pulling her in close and squeezing her ass tightly.

“You remember the Chinese girl always over at AD?”

Vietnamese, Chastity thought. She nodded. Claire looked her up and down approvingly and spoke up.

“Simon’s going to pay her to, like, convince the student investigations board to drop this hazing crap.”

Chastity found it remarkable how Claire had identified herself with the group that had treated her like a personal fuck slave for months. Now, hooked up with softer drugs for almost free from time to time and spared of new indignities, she was a team player—totally on board with the frat and with Javier, too.

“Ya girl here says you got something to talk to me about. Lucky I’m free right now. What you need?”

Chastity worked up her nerve.

“Baby, we have something so great.”

Javier looked a bit puzzled, especially to have a “relationship talk” with Claire present.

“But I…I’m afraid you might be getting bored with me.”

“Nah, it ain’t like that, ” he assured her. “You good—I know you’re just worried about other bitches out there.”

“You don’t have to—it’s OK, I understand. You could have anyone.”

Javier looked over his trembling, submissive girlfriend. No amount of filthy sex acts could ever make her look like anything other than the girl next door. Her blonde, angelic face was so beautiful, especially when her cherry lips were wrapped around his cock. Even with a face coated with his nut, she looked stunning. Her body, curvy in all the right places, knew just what he wanted. The way she moved, shy, teasing without knowing it—he would never grow bored of her.

“But I thought of an idea, something for both of us. Claire—it’s time.”

Claire moved over to Chastity’s side. In unison, both girls stripped off their shirts.

“Shit!,” Javier exclaimed.

“When you’re with other girls, I…want to be a part of it.”

Chastity and Claire wasted no time stripping fully.

“Now wait one second,” Chastity said seductively, before deeply kissing Claire. “We’ve got something to show you.”

Chastity draped her shirt over Javier’s eyes.

“No peeking,” she said with a coquettish giggle.

Chastity’s heart raced as she prepared herself for Javier.

“OK, now.”

When Javier opened his eyes, he saw a wet dream come to life. Both girls had slipped on little outfits—an exaggeration of a term, really, for the scraps of fabric they wore. Chastity wore a microscopic little tartan skirt with knee-high socks and an open, unbuttoned white school uniform shirt. Her full, gravity-defying tits caused his mouth to water. It was obvious that she wore no panties underneath the skirt.

Claire, on the other hand, went more for a slutty, hooker look. Seeing the cute, petite girl in four-inch stilettos, thigh-high fishnets, and a spiked dog collar made him see her in a new light. Now the giant hoop earrings she was wearing when he ran into her around the way made more sense. They were part of the whole ensemble.

“You can do anything you want to us,” Chastity cooed. “We’ll suck your dick.”

The girls began to kiss, exploring each other with their hands. With the added height, Claire could lock lips with Chastity without craning her beck, and she took full advantage to probe the inside of Chastity’s mouth with her tongue. After a passionate wet kiss, Claire broke their embrace.

“You’ll probably want to see us taste each other for the first time.”

Chastity smiled. She was glad that Claire had not only agreed to this, but was also getting into it.

“And I know you’ll want to make us both cum on that monster cock of yours.”

Claire stepped behind Chastity and reached both arms around her hips. Her fingers found Chastity’s labia, which she spread apart for Javier.

“Look how pink she is. I can’t wait to get my tongue in there.”

Chastity was pleasantly surprised by Claire’s interest in her. She could feel herself getting wet just from her touch. Claire’s small but perky tits brushed against her back. Javier had seen enough by that point and wanted in on the action. He rose and approached Chastity, shedding his pants as quickly as he could manage.

“Plenty of time for you prick teases to rub cunts later. I want you both down here.”

Javier pointed to his feet, and both girls unhesitatingly got down on their knees.

“Do that shit where you kiss, with my dick in the middle.”

Chastity had watched enough porn with Javier to know exactly what he was talking about. Facing Claire on her knees, she pursed her lips. Claire did the same, and they pressed their lips against the side of Javier’s engorged shaft. They quickly found a rhythm together, moving in tandem to stroke Javier’s member with their mouths. Their tongues, fighting to find each other around the throbbing meat, coated Javier’s cock in saliva. Chastity opened her eyes to look at Claire, whose eyes were closed. Barely audible moans, almost whimpers, escaped from Claire, and Chastity noticed for the first time that she was frantically fingering herself.

Chastity saw Javier reach his hand into Claire’s hair and gently push her lower, towards his hairy, pendulous balls. She took the hint and began bathing his balls with her darting little tongue. With her friend now occupied, Chastity shifted a bit to take Javier’s cock into her mouth. Both girls were pressed in close together, each with one of Javier’s massive hands guiding her head insistently forward. Chastity fought her gag reflex, hoping to take as much of him in as possible. Spurred on by her example, Claire took one of Javier’s balls into her mouth, blowing air around it as she continued to massage his nutsack with her tongue.

“No touching yourself, girl,” he ordered. “That’s what friends are for.”

Chastity had to pull Javier’s cock out of her mouth for a moment to laugh. Why is she having to touch herself? That is what I’m for. Chastity reach down to find Claire’s clit. She started to slowly circle her index and middle fingers along it. Claire had already made herself good and wet, and now Chastity could feel her body responding. Claire switched from the left to the right testicle, causing her to lean in even more towards Chastity. When Chastity inhaled Javier’s cock completely, their faces rested against one another. Chastity felt the soft smoothness of Claire’s skin against her own.

Her eyes were watering now from the exertion of taking Javier so deep into her throat. When she could take no more and had to withdraw his root from her windpipe, a thick, viscous saliva followed her, connecting her mouth to Javier’s thick, reddened cock. The rope of spit connecting her mouth to Javier’s cock bowed downwards, until it settled on the crown of Claire’s head. Chastity felt a little bad about getting all that spit on Claire, before she remembered that both of them would end up looking like a soaking mess by the end of the night. She tensed a bit when she felt Claire’s arm cross over her own and beginning gently rubbing Chastity’s own swollen clit.

Chastity took Javier deep into her throat again, her throat muscles hugging his veiny member. She had worked up so much of that thick saliva that he could slide his cock in and out with ease, although only for as long as her oxygen held out.

“Switch,” Javier ordered, and Chastity pulled the cock out of her mouth, expecting to take her turn with his balls.

Claire reached up to grab his cock and position it in her mouth when Javier pushed her hand away.

“Not that kind of switch. Around the back.”

Chastity was afraid for a minute. Claire had been forced—were we really forced to do anything?—to rim the frat brothers a lot. She didn’t enjoy the experience to say the least. Claire hesitated for a moment.

“Oh, I get it,” he said. “Bend over the bed.”

Claire paused for a moment before complying. She arched her back across the edge of the bed, exposing her pussy and ass to Javier.

“Them motherfuckers never cleaned their ass. I know you gonna like this, girl.”

Javier flicked his tongue across Claire’s puckered anus. She cooed with pleasure. Reaching deep into her pussy, he began to crook his finger, rubbing the upper walls of her cunt. After teasing the outside of her anal passage, he elicited a passionate moan when he entered her ass with his tongue. He tongue-fucked her for a minute or so, before he withdrew and turned to Chastity, who was staring in rapt, almost hypnotic attention.

“Here, baby, you try it.”

Chastity was a bit nervous, but she knew that it had to be OK if Javier would do it himself. She leaned in closer to Claire’s slender, but surprisingly round ass. For such a skinny girl, Claire had just the right amount of jiggle in her butt. Claire’s hands, pulling her cheeks apart to expose her most tender, vulnerable hole to Javier and Chastity; her legs, trembling with sensation from Javier’s expert ministrations; her long brown hair, tossing gently from side to side as she moved incessantly from the gathering storm within. Claire was there for the taking, and Chastity wanted to taste her so bad. She stuck out her tongue and moved in towards her target. The soft, wriggling tongue tickled the outside of Claire’s anus before making its way, slowly but insistently into her inner recesses.

Chastity could feel Claire’s heartbeat echo throughout her own body. Javier picked up speed with his finger, until Claire could take no more. Claire came, grinding her hips into the bed. Chastity pulled away from her friend and began running her hands across her ass. Her skin, now covered with little goosebumps, was smooth, flawless, unblemished. After a moment to catch her breath, Claire twisted at the waist, turning her shoulders to look around before flipping her body completely. Laying on her back now, she gazed upon the couple who had just introduced her to the pleasures of receiving a sensual and erotic anal tongue fuck.

“Holy crap,” she said breathlessly. “I get it now.”

Chastity held her friend’s hand. She was starting to feel something more than friendship. She realized that she wanted this to be more than just a one-time, trial thing. She had real feelings for Claire, both emotional and passionately physical.

“Don’t give up on me now, baby,” she said to Claire. “We better get this monster off before we play more.”

With that, Chastity took her place in front of Javier, again choking herself with his cock. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Claire moving around behind him, taking her place on the floor, where she would begin to lap at Javier’s bunghole. Getting Claire off had stirred Javier even further, and it wasn’t long until he clamped his hand down on the back of Chastity’s head, pumping a prodigious load of cum straight into her gullet. He reached around to tap Claire on the back of the head. She backed away from his ass and craned around to see Chastity.

“You save any of that?,” she asked.

“Why, did you want to share? He shot it straight into my throat.”

Claire moved over to sit on the bed, patting the spot beside her. While Javier went to find a bottle of water, Chastity moved over to sit close beside Claire. They both still wore their little cosplay outfits, though their make-up was ruined. They both had to laugh a little at that—Claire’s hair was matted with a copious amount of saliva from Chastity, while Chastity’s mascara had run all over, a side effect of all the gagging and choking on Javier’s meaty cock.

Claire grabbed a little cotton pad and started to wipe up the excess make-up, revealing the fresh-faced girl underneath. Chastity started to stroke her thighs, smiling up at her and looking at her own tiny reflection in Claire’s eyes.

“That was incredible,” Claire said. “I want you to feel that. I’ll do it for you.”

“Feeling you, when you were, you know,” Chastity stammered shyly. “It was so amazing.”

Claire smiled at her friend’s strange sense of innocence, made all the more endearing by the fact that she had moved her hand to brush against Claire’s pussy seemingly without thinking. She just had a subconscious need to please others, and Claire hoped that Chastity would give her some of that attention now. Missing the feeling of April’s soft tongue and the orgasms it brought her, Claire hoped that Javier wouldn’t mind her becoming much closer to Chastity. She saw him come back into the room and plop down in the desk chair facing the bed, his cock semi-hard, long and floppy against the inside of his thigh. She knew he would be far from spent, but in the interval, she wanted to make Chastity cum, make her feel the same, so that she would be able to have her again and again. Putting on a girl-on-girl fuckfest for Javier would smooth over any objections he might have to Claire sampling his girlfriend as well.

They would both get fucked tonight, that was certain. Depending upon how many times Javier could get it up, they might find themselves both stuffed in all three holes. Claire knew how Javier and the guys he associated with could treat a girl. Being with Chastity had mellowed him a ton. He seemed different without Simon’s evil influence too. She had been afraid at first, when she balked at rimming him, but he had played it pretty cool, actually. She smiled at Chastity. Sweet Chastity. She’s really too good for him.

She brushed the hair back from Chastity’s face, before pulling her into a deep and passionate kiss. Javier watched avidly as she gently tweaked Chastity’s nipples, making them stand at attention. Claire took the lead, kissing down Chastity’s neck before lowering her to the bed and taking her left breast into her mouth and sucking greedily but softly on her nipple. Claire could sense intuitively the pleasure coursing through Chastity’s body.

She spun the pliant girl over, startling Chastity with the motion. Now it’s time to win him over, she told herself. She tugged at Chastity’s hips until she got the idea and popped her ass into ther air, resting her head against a pillow at the head of the bed. Claire ran her tongue from the top of Chastity’s ass crack all the way to her clit and thought the poor girl would die of ecstasy right then. She repeated the motion a handful of times before inserting her two fingers deep into Chastity’s snatch. A couple of quick darts of her tongue, and Chastity’s anus started to quiver and clench involuntarily with pleasure. Claire turned to look over at Javier, eyes glazed with lust.

“You got a plug? I want to stretch her good and well before you get that thing hard again and split her open.”

Javier smiled. He could get used to this girl hanging around.


Katie spent the rest of her Saturday in preparation. A chance run-in with a couple of Simon’s former maids had proven fortuitous—she had learned that Simon’s girlfriend would be out of town until Monday. Sunday night was her night.

Her mind had wandered with punishments, but they always seemed to fall into two categories: way too mild and impossibly murderous. She wasn’t going to cut his dick off or run him over with her car. Most of all, she wanted to humiliate him publicly and puncture his little sense of superiority. Emasculating him in front of his stupid fraternity would be perfect, and Katie imagined it to be poetic justice if she could do to him, in his own creepy dungeon basement, what he had done to her.

She had the money shot in her mind: Simon, bent over with a large dildo protruding from his ass. The brothers—hell, the whole campus—would love to see that. She would just show him, though, a bit of leverage and payback for her own tape. Now how to get there?

Unlike Simon, she had no drug connections. She didn’t own a gun, and would be afraid to hold one anyway. He might kick a knife out of her hand, so that was out. Finally, she settled on a weapon beloved of frightened women: a stun gun, purchased from a police supply store conveniently located near Sindee’s adult video and novelty store. There, she had found the right balance of comical and humiliating sex gear to really make her revenge scene perfect.

That night she watched the house where Simon and his perverted friends lived. It was Saturday, which meant a party that could last all night. Groups of people came in and out of the house, while she observed from the car. A girl she recognized—Anna, maybe? Or is it Hannah?—came out a bit disheveled around eleven. Katie slumped down a bit watching the girl as she approached the car on her way back to old campus from the AD house. Probably some innocent girl getting abused in there, she thought.

On a normal night, staying up till three in the morning would have been a tall order for Katie, but this night was different. She was wired from the adrenaline of it all. She had never let her self admit it—she wasn’t ready to put it all behind her and move on. Though she had dreaded her conversation with Simon that morning, it had made everything clear to her: until Simon paid, until she had the power and he felt weak and used, she would never be satisfied.

By 3:45, all of the lights were out, including in the room she knew to be Simon’s. Now for the hard part, she told herself. Creeping up to the door, she tried her card. The AD house used the keyless lock system that the rest of the campus used, only the brothers had the program to control who had entry to the house. When they were dating, Simon had granted her access, and she could only hope that he had neglected to remove it. When the touchpad turned green, she knew she could enter—in fact, there was nothing to stop her from executing her plan immediately. Her fear, though, was still too great. She needed to mentally prepare herself, to think of every contingency, in order to be ready for anything Simon might throw her way. She backed away from the door and returned home for a well-deserved night’s sleep.

The next day, she woke up late from what had to have been a steamy dream. All through the day, she felt incredibly horny, in fact. After lunch, alone in her room, she allowed her mind to wander, fantasizing about sodomizing her hated abuser. She hated the way he smiled. She hated his piercing eyes and chiseled jaw. Hated his quiet but unmistakeable confidence. Hated every time he had made her cum. Hated him for not wanting her anymore.

Almost without thinking, she found her hand down her skirt, mindlessly rubbing the top of her clit. What the hell?, she thought. I deserve this. She was about to bring herself off when her phone rang. Damn! A half-hour of awkward, mood-killing conversation with her dad left her neither ready to start again nor completely over the need to cum. This will have to wait—maybe till afterwards.

All day she counted down the hours, until finally it was still, dark, and empty outside. She made her way, as she had done many times before, to the Alpha Delta house. Once inside, she knew that things could go wrong any moment. She had a cover story—the most obvious one she could find—that she was just there to pick up a sweater she had left behind.

Fortunately, Sunday was one day the brothers often did take off from partying. She got to Simon’s room. This is it, she thought. I’ve got to make him know I’m serious. She approached Simon, fast asleep, and looked into his face. Sleeping, he looked almost peaceful, serene. That changed when Katie placed the piece of black electrical tape over his mouth and jabbed him once with the taser.

A pain, electric and white-hot, shot through Simon. He tried to scream, but the tape muffled it. In a state of momentary shock, he looked up to see his ex.

“Don’t say a word. Walk down to the place where you…did what you did to me on Halloween. I will shock you again.”

Simon seemed a bit disoriented, but quickly gathered his wits and did as she said. Once they were in one of his private rooms, Katie locked the door and issued her next instructions.

“Put your hands behind your back and don’t move.”

She cuffed him, and the metal bracelets dug into his skin.

“This was the place where you made me read my article, while you fucked me. Now, you’re the one getting fucked.”

Katie pulled off Simon’s boxers, the only clothes he was wearing. She was afraid he would kick her, so she pressed the stun gun against his side, letting him know she could incapacitate him at a moment’s notice. He didn’t stir.

The room looked different than before. Is someone living down here?

“Bend over the bed over there.”

Katie brandished her dildo, letting Simon guess what she had planned.

“Put your head down against the bed. Now!”

Simon complied immediately, calmly. Once the initial surprise of being woken by 50,000 volts had worn off, he seemed decidedly unimpressed by her revenge, even as he went along with her demands. In fact, his impassivity was disturbing Katie. This isn’t how it was supposed to go, she thought. He should be crying and ashamed.

Suddenly she heard her own voice in her head. The adrenaline rush yesterday. The day-long horniness. The daydreams of Simon’s abuse. She was getting off on the power of it all. She was just like him.

“Don’t move, ” she said, before ripping off the tape.

Though it looked painful, Simon followed her dictates. He neither moved nor spoke.

“Do you have anything to say to me?,” she asked.

Simon, stripped naked, handcuffed, and bent over a bed awaiting imminent sodomy, nonchalantly replied.

“Hi, Katie. This is a surprise.”

“The real surprise is when I show everyone the pictures,” she replied, her voice trembling.

“Yeah, I don’t see that happening.”

“You don’t believe I’ll do it?”

“Not like this. I think you much prefer taking cock in the ass. This way around just doesn’t seem right to me.”

It was like he was egging her on, daring her to do it. Yet he seemed wholly unafraid. Everything was ready, for Simon’s final humiliation. Katie, however, hesitated. This felt wrong. Could she really follow through with it? Moreover, Simon had yet to show even the slightest fear or shame. Of course, she remembered. Sociopaths don’t feel those kinds of emotions. Oh shit…

“You…you don’t care, do you? This isn’t—oh, God.”

For someone holding all the power right now, I don’t feel in control, she thought. Get it together!

“Look, you can use your toy on me all you want. It won’t change anything. I won’t be tied up forever. And I could give a fuck what pictures you take. Deep down, you know I’m going to win this.”

Katie fought the urge to start crying. She had gotten this far, had Simon in his most vulnerable state—and he was still winning.

“But, look, I understand your need for revenge. I’ll even help you out.”

With that, Simon moved from his prone position, standing up and walking over to the bed. I should be stopping him, she thought forlornly. Katie did not so much as move a muscle, offering him no resistance.

“Re-cuff me—to the bedposts this time.”

Katie sensed a trap.

“You’ll hit me or something. You’ll get away.”

“I don’t want to get away,” he replied.

Katie was distraught and in shock. Oddly, she believed him. He didn’t seem to want to escape. Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord. Like a zombie, she shambled over to Simon’s bedside, dangerously close to him. Still, part of her expected him to hit her when she undid the cuffs—she was an intruder, an attempted (and failed) rapist. But he remained as self-possessed as ever, and allowed her to cuff his hand above his head on the metal headboard rail.

“Good girl. OK, now’s your chance. Hit me.”

Katie was thrown into a minor panic. She had never thrown a punch in real life. Even a hard slap was out of her realm of experience.

“Don’t you remember how it felt when I split your skinny ass open? When you whored yourself out to me? When I blew my load right—”

Katie felt like she had just woken up from a dream. Her hand stung, and Simon’s left cheek was now red. I hit him, she thought. And it felt good.

“Is that all your ass was worth?”

Katie slapped Simon again, this time consciously. At that point, the floodgates were open, and she began pummeling him, raining down slaps and weak punches to his chest. Simon laid there and took it, occasionally using a pause to insult her some more: “whore,” “cock sucker,” “sperm bank.” Without thinking, she hopped up on the bed, straddling him to better exert her will over him. That doubt and fear that had stopped her short just a moment ago was gone. She felt the thrill of control again and in the familiar place too.

Holy shit, she realized. I’m so horny right now.

Katie hopped off Simon momentarily to secure the tape over his mouth again. She didn’t want to listen to that arrogant bastard when what was about to happen happened. She felt a strong desire to suddenly rip it off again, to do that over and over again until he finally showed her a response—pain, anger, fear, lust. Anything but this casual indifference.

Author’s Note: This is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you do not like it, do not read it. Thanks for any feedback, comments, votes or favorites. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This particular fiction story contains adultery, drugs, and may contain terrible, terrible writing among many other things. All characters are eighteen or over if they are naked or sexual. This story has been re-submitted and tweaked for a second chapter that I had not totally intended to write.

Coincidentally By Design, Or: Chapter 1

“Never a moment’s rest,” he said aloud as he ran from the shower, the towel he held barely following along the way as he ran down the hall to the ringing phone. Still dripping, and seeing a number on the ID that he did not recognize, Albert had no choice but to answer.

“Hello?” he said with every ounce of question and dripping annoyance that he had.

“Uh… Hey, Alby. Um.. What are you doing right now?”

“Beulah?” Is everything all right? Are the kids OK?” Albert could not have been more confused or worried. His best friend-and-co-worker’s wife was on the phone. Something could be wrong.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me. Don’t get worried, the kids are fine, but it is kind of an emergency though. So what are you doing right this instant?”

“Uh,” Albert looked around as if he did not know what to say, and then stared at the puddle on the carpet along with the poorly tied towel he still held onto around his waist. “Nothing too terribly important. Just got home from work a little bit ago. Why, what’s up, Bee?”

“I was wondering if you could let me in?” Beulah almost whispered into her end of the phone.

“Let you into where?” Surely she was not at his front door.

“Um… your apartment. It’s kind of weird standing on the stoop on the phone when I could just speak to you.”

“Didn’t Steven leave on the certification trip this morning?” None of this was making any sense to Albert.

“He did, but this is kinds ’bout ‘im.” Her heavy accent went sheepish.

“Uh… I don’t think that’s a good idea Bee,” Albert knew the rules. Never be alone with your friend’s wife unless he says it is OK, and especially, never butt into their marriage.

“Please…” The sound of desperation was heard in Beulah’s voice.

“Uh, ok, give me a sec, I guess I’ll be right down,” Albert’s brain was telling of bad ideas and conversations from earlier in the week, but Albert was more concerned with wearing pants in front of his best friend’s wife. He was still dripping when he opened the door.

Beulah stood on the opposite side of the solid door in all her glory, defeating the late setting sun in the background: She was wearing three inch heels and a short pleated black skirt accompanied by a high riding white tank top without a bra, nor one built in. Her light brown hair was hanging loosely over her shoulders, and she had gotten a tan since the last time they had seen each other at Steven and Beulah’s daughter Kaylee’s birthday party.

Had Albert not been stunned by the sight before him, he would have slammed the door closed; because he was stunned, Beulah pushed past his hanging jaw with a hand on his wet chest and was walking up the stairs before he could react. He cursed himself for not putting a shirt on.

“Bee, you shouldn’t be here, you have to go-o…” He watched her naked bits below the pleated skirt while he still held the door open at the bottom of the stairs; she was not wearing underwear, and her plump lips were shaved.

His mouth was open again.

Albert had always been attracted to his co-worker’s wife; attracted even before Steven and Beulah were married; attracted back when they were in school together, back when Beulah was Albert’s best and only friend.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Nelson has the kids until Steven gets back. We, you and me, we have to talk, it’s important.” Beulah had not turned to speak to Albert, instead continuing to walk up the carpeted steps with words over her shoulder.

When Beulah turned the corner at the top of the stairs and into his second floor apartment, Albert could swear she stuck out her rump since the pleats of the skirt were forced to twirl behind her body, exposing her crafted stockingless (yup) golden thigh.

Albert followed her path slowly; he was trying as hard as he could to remember something that was said in another conversation, but his mind was still blank and thinking only of the perfect naked ass he had just seen bare for the first time. Her rear end was shaped like an upside down heart.

By the time Albert had made it to the top of the stairs, Beulah was sitting cross legged on his L-shaped couch, dangling a pump off of the toe of the leg in the front. She must have gone to Albert’s fridge, as there were two micro-brews sitting unopened and condensing on the table in front of her. She was lighting a joint as he approached.

“This isn’t really an emergency, is it?” Albert was serious in his question despite the fuddled brain, and he was unsure if she had brought a purse.

“Nope’r.” She said, ashing in a nearby houseplant.

“Um.. Bee, this is wrong… I mean Steven is my best friend.” Albert looked frightened, and her brightening headlights almost froze his body.

“…and he’s my husband. It’s his own fault that I am here, anyway.” Beulah said through held breath. Albert suddenly remembered a conversation – the one he thought was important – in full. It was the one that his brain was trying to remind him of.

“Oh no. No. Please don’t do this.” Not her, not this woman, this was wrong, even if it felt right. It was wrong all around, even if he was given permission.

He was no longer pacing, instead standing firm and separated from her body by only a glass table.


“Man, we got in such a fight this weekend.” Albert had just finished telling Steven the details of the trip he would be taking on Friday, just before Steven had decided to talk about his personal life. Albert could never understand why Steven would fight with a woman like Beulah, let alone call her ‘low class’ as Steven often did.

It was only by accident that Beulah was back in Albert’s life. He had confessed his love to her at their senior graduation; Beulah, in turn, had run away from him at full speed when he had finished speaking. Eight years later, at the company picnic Albert held for his employees, he saw Beulah attached to the arm of his newest hire: Steven, who also just happened to be a great worker and well qualified.

“Oh yeah, about what?” Albert was genuinely curious.

Starting a profitable company from scratch had taken a chunk out of Albert’s ability to have a relationship, running said company made things even worse. Long drives like these let him live vicariously through his employees. Steven, as well, had become a close friend in the two years since he was hired, so Albert was genuinely curious.

“Oh the same old bullshit about not having enough romance, and that I never take her out anymore or talk to her. I keep trying to tell her that we’re almost in our thirties and that we have kids or that I fuggin’ work all day or that we could talk if she stopped yelling, but she doesn’t get it.”

“You’re an idiot Steven,” Albert said in his head while replying, “That sucks,” outwardly to his friend and employee. Then again, Beulah always did pick the winners. Albert had wanted to speak to Beulah about Steven, but their false fronts prevented them from doing so.

“Yeah, it does. It got bad, too. She started yelling I was shitty in bed. So you know what I told that bitch?” Steven almost looked proud despite his vulgar words.

“What did you say?”

“I told her that if I was no good, that she should just go find someone else to fuck, but to lose some weight first.” Steven was all pride.

“No way…” Albert was appalled, Steven took it as impressed.

“Yeah I did. I told her to find someone who would put up with her shit. Otherwise, she should shut her fat fucking mouth.” Steven was smiling broadly and Albert was trying not to be angry by reminding himself that people could change.

“Wow, man…. What did she do when you said that?” Albert was more curious why Steven would say such things to a woman like Beulah. Albert knew, for a fact, that some women were shaped differently; Stevens taste in women gave Albert the impression that they needed to eat something.

Albert’s mother, as well as Beulah’s own, had tried to feed the skinny tom-boy every time she was in their eyesight. Albert remembered just how boney she was when she was younger; these days Beulah was not overweight: She was tall, and healthy, and she had finally filled out into adulthood: Stacked and soft in all the right places.

“Bitch locked herself in the bathroom after yelling at me for fighting loud enough for the kids to hear, like they’re going to wake up.” Steven began to laugh.

“You weren’t serious, were you? No, you can’t be.” Albert shook his head in disbelief for a moment. “You don’t think you’re asking for trouble? ‘Cause I think you are.” Albert really wanted to know more, even if it was none of his business.

“Man, I don’t really care as long as she takes care of my kids. She’ll never leave me anyway. She needs me. I told her again yesterday when she all tried to apologize. I said she should start looking for a new piece of ass. No one want’s her haggard ass, anyway. Shit, Bertman, You never get laid and you wouldn’t even hit that shit.”

Albert laughed at the absurdity of passing up a chance with Beulah, thinking of body parts to offer up as sacrifice. This laughter, misinterpreted by Steven, only fueled his vulgarity.

“Lord knows I will start looking on this trip,” Steven slicked back his thinning black hair. “She’ll never fucking know cause we never fuck anymore.” Steven’s confidence was infectious, his illiteration(yup) was carrying plague.

“I’m glad you don’t deal with the customers.” Albert said, still laughing at something completely different.


“No.No.Noway.Wecan’tdothisBeulah. You have to leave, like right now.” He spoke the last measure of his words in his home accent and drawl. Albert really should have put a shirt on, the muscle symphony from his pacing was only agitating her further along; Beulah could feel the humidity from his damp skin, perfectly messy hair, and the moist top of his net shorts hanging from his nonexistent hips though the evening was turning chilly, pre-fall, and dry.

The windows were open, and the crisp air was creeping into the warm apartment; it only seemed to act as fuel when it hit Beulah’s shoulders, or when it ran through the holes in Albert’s shorts.

“Oh, so he told you…” Beulah’s words carried a second phrase of “fucking figures” silently in tandem with the roll of her eyes. She sighed as she kicked off her heels and stood, taking a few steps to her left, along the rectangle table and towards the shelves. She was running her finger across his collection of albums upon arrival, in search of a specific title naming a thing that he was too young to have purchased new.

“Yeah, he.. sortofsaidsomething. Look, he’s like my best friend Beulah, we can’t do this.”

“We were best friends once…” she was ignoring him, heightening the effect of the unsaid, while offering him the joint. When he didn’t take it, she hung it from her lips and bent over to start the record meticulously. Not a scratch was heard as static and the sight of her unclad cheeks filled the air.

Despite the view, her words stung, and they brought Albert back to another time. This conversation was going to happen now, even if he wanted her to go before he made a bad choice.

” ‘fuck.” He reacted late as her words finally stuck too deep. Albert sat – fell – diagonally across from her retaken seat on the L, and took the J from her, hitting it with the remainder of the alphabet.

Reggatta De Blanc, his favorite album, had begun to play, acting as the trigger. The songs always calmed him down and made him feel better.

These two individuals had not been alone since the day Albert told Beulah he loved her. Until that day, they were inseparable; they had, literally, hung out every day of their conscious lives.

The classy word still hung over the sound of the record playing at the perfect volume

When she softly fell back into the couch, she took in the sight of her husband’s best friend: Shirtless, damp, tense, conflicted, and well defined. Beulah took the time to open the slick beer bottles upon the glass table with her disposable lighter; she took a sip of her own beer, sitting it in her lap rather than placing it on the table next to his.

Albert had always been a worker, and a swimmer, even when they were younger and merely separated by a farm field in a remote ‘hick’ town. The sight of his features showed her the value.

“Why did you run away from me.” Albert passed her back the remainder of the illicit substance, and snagged his beer from the table. This may have been his best friend’s wife, but he deserved an answer, even if he was staring at her legs.

“Alby honey…” Beulah was the only person to call him Ably, a name he had not heard in a long time, especially not in front of Steven – whom knew none of this history. “You weren’t the first boy to say you loved me, ya’ know? What was I supposed to do? I was young, but I knew I would hold you back. I’m not smart like you, you were going places. Look at you now.”

“So were you.” Albert said without hesitation. “None of that stuff is true, Bee. It wouldn’t matter if it was. You could have come with me.”

“You’re the only one who ever said so…” Only the music was heard for a time.

“Richie Hinkley was the first one to say he loved you.” Albert had interrupted the silence of the music. “I remember. You told me that same night, on the dock on your momma’s pond. Remember? We were looking at that book of constellations.” The two sat in silence again, both sitting back and holding cold tinted glass. “You could have just believed me, I never lied to you. I was never like that dirt bag Richie, or those pigs Rudolph and David.”

Albert stood and turned off the record at the end of the first side, but just before the automatic player reset, sitting back down when he was finished. He only smiled at her confused glance before he picked up a remote from the end table and hit a primary button.

The corner of the room, opposite the record player, lit up, and a moment later Albert was pressing new buttons with a level of finesse that implied knowledge. The B side of the same album began to play and Albert set down the remote, smiling.

“Nerd,” Beulah threw out, grinning.

“Only you would know,” he said in throwback and continuing with “yokel,” using their old joke. “It’ll go on random after this, too.”

“My Momma did always like you, Grammy too.” Beulah looked at the cool bottle in between her legs as she spoke.

“I heard about your momma… I’m sorry Bee Lah… How is she doin’?” Albert did always like Beulah’s mother, not to mention she made the best pound cake in the world and deserved recognition for it.

“Thanks. She’s.. uh.. We sold her house. She’s on hospice for the past month… not long.” Beulah’s words dwarfed the look on her face; a look Albert had forgotten that he missed. “She always did say: ‘Nobody gets out alive.’ “

“You could have listened to her.” Albert uttered with longing, smiling in retrospect and agreement to her mother’s favorite quote.

Well, by the time I figured that out, I was pregnant. Then Steven and I got married. I never thought I would see you again…”

The two were silent for a passing instant before Beulah resumed. “I always knew you would be successful, I just didn’t think you would end up here. I mean we are so far from home…” Beulah’s look was wistful and longing to say the least.

“Me neither… I thought you didn’t recognize me at Steven’s first picnic.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t recognize me. Ohmy, then you and Steven got along so well…” she actually batted her hand in his direction while she spoke; Albert so missed the Southern Belles, just being around her was bringing his lost accent back more and more.

“I was going to tell him about us.” Albert looked guilty; he felt guilty.

“Then why didn’t you?” Beulah suddenly appeared as he always remembered her; as he had not seen in so long: Alive, and perky, and ready to cause trouble. He had forgotten how it felt to be alone with her. As much as he had inflated her charms in his memories, they were still sub-par to the real deal.

“I.. uh.. Look, Bee, you have to go.” Albert had missed her, yet he was feeling as if only yesterday they were shoulder to shoulder counting stars. He had especially missed this part of her: The part made for best friends and lovers; despite this, he was still unprepared for her boldness; he had been unprepared for her attitude in his youth, a thing she would quickly exploit in those days; all these years later and she was no different.

“…but you didn’t, did you?” Her words and accent hung in the Northern air; it felt like hours before she spoke again, but Albert’s hair was still crisp when she began to repeat herself.

“Why didn’t you?” Beulah stood, cocking her head to the side while simultaneously slipping a thumb into the waistband of her skirt, and moving the other into the bottom of her shirt, exposing her belly button and lightened C scars as she settled with one hip up. She was fit and beautiful, all curves and thick; shadows of muscles across her stomach, arms, shoulders, and thighs mapped creation’s plan for her shape.

Beulah had grown up, she had started eating, and she had been working out. Their mothers would be proud of her posture and form.

“I.. uh..” Albert was looking at his lap, trying not to stare at her, absently turning his head side to side. Her breasts were twice the size he remembered, and he could see her large nipples, exactly as he remembered. It was ten years since he took anything but an obscure glance of her.

“You still love me, don’t you?” Beulah had a look of concern on her face when she asked, but still stood sexy with one hip up and a thumb sliding side to side under the waistband while the other thumb sat still.

“I.. uh..” Albert was still looking at his lap, still trying not to stare at her, and still absently turning his head side to side, slowly.

Beulah began to sway her hips to snake charm the motion of his head, falling in time with his movement. One of her exposed hips continually stopped higher than the other before changing direction, slowly turning his pace into her own.

Her magic was working. “Steven doesn’t love me anymore. He hasn’t loved me for fifteen minutes of the last two years.” She began moving both of her thumbs under the waistband of her skirt, pushing it dangerously lower with each pass.

“Bee Lah.. I.. uh.. togo..” Albert set his bottle down and looked as if he were about to stand up and leave his own home, even if he was staring at her, and even if his head was still moving to and fro, but to her specifications.

He was enthralled, he could not move his body to the will of his racing thoughts; Beulah took immediate advantage, her speed surprised and returned him back into his seat. Before Albert knew what had happened, his head was against the cushion of the couch and each of Beulah’s hands were on his respective thighs; the cute nose built for her face was nearly touching his own: Her mother had the same nose, Kaylee as well.

“My husband gave us permission, you know, and I want it to be you, Alby.” Beulah’s eyes were flashing behind their light blue rings.

“I know you’re alone, I know you’re clean, and I know you’re a good man.” Beulah was looking right into his eyes, yet Albert could only see her ample cleavage within the loosely hanging top and her small eraser nipples encircled by tiny bumps.

Let me tell you a little about myself, I am pink when not being used, I am above average when it comes to size, I believe I am around 8 ½ inches and my owner can’t even get his whole had around me when he is busy abusing me. When I get excited my veins look angry under my skin, and I turn a dark shade of red. Just before I throw up my head turns a brilliant purple. Unlike my fellow body part the stomach, my throw up seems to cause a lot of pleasure to my owner. He is always trying so hard to make me do it, he must like it!

I really like when he rubs me fast, it is such a rush when blood fills all my vessels. I feel so proud standing at attention. The best feeling is when I get to go spelunking, nothing like traveling into a nice warm cave. For some reason my owner thinks I should be caving in the tightest holes. I know one thing for sure the tighter the cave is he has me explore, the more I puke! I guess it is the pressure that is applied around my throat, kind of like when a person puts their thumb over the end of a hose nozzle. I just spray so much harder it is unbelievable.

Although I don’t mind going into tight fissures, I am not too pleased when my boss stuffs me into the smelly caves. Sure it is good for him, I mean when I go into the smelly cave I puke so hard he almost passes out. I am glad he can’t find too many others that want to let their dark foul cavern be explored. But I will let you know about those later in my tale.

I have run into some pretty “hard” times, pun intended! I remember the night he got experimental with some medication and it made me so tired. Hell I must have been standing at attention for three or four hours non stop! Then another time he put a piece of paper on his tongue and my two friends that are always hanging out below me got so tired because he had us working all night long. I ended up puking six times that night. The next day my skin was all red and raw, man I hurt! I wasn’t going to stand at attention for him for at least a week after that punishment no matter how much he tried to make me.

There was the week we went to Mexico, he put me in this nasty cave, and it was so gross I could barely stay at attention. He covered me in a clear raincoat and even though I didn’t want to I ended up throwing up all over myself. I hate those stupid raincoats, I can barely breathe, it just doesn’t feel right and when I am being suffocated it takes me so long to vomit! Anyway after we got home I felt incredibly itchy and noticed I had all these little creatures crawling all over me and my two friends. He had to go to the doctor and I ended up swallowing this metal pole, I thought I would die!

The worst pain I have ever felt though was the day my master was taking a quick pee and forgot to tuck me in before he pulled the teeth of death up on me. I was all folded in between each tooth of the dreaded zipper. When he finally got the courage to pull the zipper down I started bleeding all over myself. It just wouldn’t stop; I got really scared that day.

Now it is time; I am going to tell you all about some of my spelunking adventures. I have traveled through all types of caves. Some of the ones I have been in have been so tight I could barely breathe, while in others I had enough room to wonder about. I have been rained on, scraped up a bit from the rough dry terrain and I have even on a couple of occasions voyaged through rivers of red. All these journeys hold special memories deep inside.

The tightest travels by far have been taken in the putrid crevices. One time I had to go through a bloody forest and my two friends below kept getting mad because they were bouncing into two others just like themselves. Yes these deep caves were not my cup of tea, even though my master tried his damnedest to get me in them. More times than not he would be forcing me into one of these stinky spaces and I would not only end up with my own puke on myself but I would end up covered in slime and mud. No matter how wet you could get caving when you went exploring, when you went in the murky ones you always came out filthy.

So to wrap up my little synopsis here about my cave diving. Others like me know; no matter how much you masters enjoy thrusting us into the reeking holes remember what it is like, for your dick! Even if we puke at the first few thrusts it doesn’t necessarily mean that is that great for us!

Part VI of the Blackmail tales. If you haven’t already read them, you may want to start with parts I through 5, A Bit of Blackmail, A Bit More Blackmail, A Blackmail Buddy, and the Blackmail Tales. Just click on my name to find all my stories, and start from there.

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Chapter 06: Hot-tub Hijinks

Our little plan to involve our spouses was working to perfection. Krista’s boys were off at a weekend camp, and my daughter was at a sleep-over. The four of us had enjoyed a ‘grown-up’ movie, fine dining, and had returned to my place for a nightcap.

I had just finished adding landscape lighting to the backyard, and we retired to the patio where the guys could enjoy a cigar, and we could all relax over a couple of glasses of wine. We’d shared a single bottle of wine at dinner, and were looking to add to that at home. I cranked up the tunes just enough to drown out the sound of the road out front, made sure everybody was settled in, and using a cedar strip, lit up.

I’d had very little to drink, as the driver, and shortly headed to the kitchen to prepare myself a shot. While there I put another part of my plan into action, pulling out a tray of Jello shots I had prepared earlier. These were no ordinary shots. I had stopped by a friend at the gym who hooked me up with a little chemical assistance for the evening. The pink shots, for the ladies, contained Raspberry Jello, Vodka, and a half dose of GHB. Just a little to get them in the mood. The Blue shot for Rich had half a Viagra pill, and a half dose of GHB. Since the shots are swallowed whole, they shouldn’t taste the surprises, and the additives should leave them ready, willing and able.

I headed back out poolside, shots in hand and passed them around. We drank a toast to regular evenings without the kids, and downed our shots. The clock was ticking.

“We should all go in the hot-tub,” Abby finally announced, “It’s such a beautiful night. And so quiet for once.” My wife was a huge fan of the hot-tub. We went in all the time, and she often invited her friends over for a dip. I had been counting on that.

Krista was ready with her prepared response. “That sounds nice, my legs are aching. I think I overdid it in the gym.”

Rich, as usual, was eager to find fault with his beautiful wife. “I bought you those personal training sessions. If you’d just call and make the appointments, you wouldn’t have to worry about working out wrong, and maybe you could get in shape.”

I don’t know what kind of shape he was thinking of; as far as I was concerned she was bordering on perfection.

“I’m going to turn the spa on. We’ll be going in sooner or later.” I told them, excusing myself to turn on the spa and set the temperature. I also turned on the lights inside the pool, and turned off the lights inside the hot-tub, making it just a little more private once we were in.

Krista and Abby wandered inside as I returned to the table, working on my Opus X. I’d given Rich a decent enough Partagas Corona, not wanting to waste one of my few real good cigars on a guy who couldn’t tell a Cohiba from a Camel.

“Krista won’t want to go in. She’d die before she’d be caught in a hot-tub. She never goes in at home. Hell, she hardly goes in the pool at all. I’ll be damned if I know why I built the damn thing,” Rich lamented.

“Abby’s the opposite. She probably soaks in the hot-tub at least 5 times a week. And you’ve heard her say it, her birthday suit is her favorite outfit. She wears it for swimming and house-cleaning. I kept having to remind her to shut the shades until I finally had to put up the solar screens on the front of the house just for privacy.” I laughed.

“Damn. I wish. Krista’s never naked,” Rich said, regretfully. “She won’t even let me in the bathroom when she’s in there. I probably haven’t seen her completely nude 5 times in the last year.”

I almost wanted to say I’d seen her naked that many times in the last week. But the timing wasn’t quite right, yet.

“Well, she might surprise you.” I told him, offering him another shot, this one only half-strength and undoctored. I didn’t want them to get too drunk; not a good combination with the G.

The girls surprised both of us. They walked out of the house wearing robes, and carrying a stack of towels, and then insisted we turn our backs to them. As soon as we were facing away from the spa, they both climbed in and invited us to join them.

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” Rich said.

“Neither do we.” Abby laughed. “Come on, we won’t peak. Much.” Krista giggled along with her. “And bring our drinks.”

I took my time, transferring the drinks to the area around the hot-tub, and turning off the light over the patio. I brought the outdoor cordless phone over, and I even brought over the Butane lighter in case my cigar went out. Only then did I step to the side of the hot-tub. Rich was already in, and from the soggy state of his underwear, I guessed he’d worn them into the water, and only removed them afterward. I, on the other hand, cheeky bastard that I am, casually undressed, taking off my boxers just before I stepped over the ledge into the spa. Right in front of the controller, and right between the two naked ladies.

“Alex!” Krista exclaimed in false shock.

“What? Everyone else is naked, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you could have given us a chance to look away!” She blurted.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” I teased, easing back into the water.

It’s worth noting that my spa is raised about 18 inches over the level of the pool. It makes it easier to get in and out of, and leaves a nice water feature as the water spills over the ledge of the spa into the pool, when the filter is on. It also makes the interior very dark. The yard has a good bit of lighting, from inside the pool, and from the landscape lighting, but all of it at or near ground level, and on a moonless night, it can be pitch black inside the spa, while the whole area around you is lit up.

The girls broke back into conversation about the goings-on up at the school, as I asked Rich how things were going with this new real estate gig. During a lull in the conversation I asked if I should turn on the bubbles.

Abby started pointing out where all the jets were, as if we couldn’t tell, with the hot water jetting out of them, and as we adjusted in the water, I reached over to the controller, and accidentally turned on the underwater light instead, giving everyone a quick view of all the nakedness in the water, before turning on the bubble jets and turning off the light again.

“Alex! I can’t believe you!” Abby chastened me.

“It was an accident, really. You know I always sit in that corner over there. I’m not so good working the controller left-handed.” And if you believe that, I’ve got some nice Kansas ocean front land for you.

Krista and I had a goal. Get our spouses worked up. Under cover of the darkness, we were to reach underwater and see what we could do to get them feeling good and randy. We were five minutes into that plan, and the conversation had taken a decidedly quieter and more teasing turn, when stage two kicked in.

The phone rang. I picked it up, looking at the caller ID, and answered it. “Hello?”

“Ok, just a minute.” I passed the phone to Krista, while my other hand stroked the inside of my wife’s thigh. “It’s for you.”

Krista took the phone, and listened to the message. “All right. You know I’m not happy about this. I’ll be right over.” She hung up the phone and passed it back to me. “Crap. Nicholas left his contact case and head-gear at home. He won’t have it for the entire weekend. I have to bring it to him.”

Rich griped, “But that’s at least 15 minutes away!”

“I know, but what can I do?” She answered.

“You’re in no shape to drive,” Abby said. “Why don’t you deliver it, Alex? You’re the only one completely sober here.”

“I don’t mind. Where is this place?” I asked.

“If you’ve never been there, you’ll never find it in the dark. I better go with you. We can drive over to our place, pick the stuff up, and be back in half-an-hour. I’m sorry to be so much trouble.” Krista said.

“No. It’s alright,” I told her. “Let’s just get this over with.”

With that I climbed out of the spa, and wrapped a towel around my waist. I then held up Krista’s heavy Turkish robe, and turned my head as she settled into it.

She and I walked into the house to get ready to go. She’d done her changing in our bedroom, so we both went there. “It’s going perfect,” she said, going over to the window and peeking out the side of the blinds into the pool area. I turned to my laptop, entered the password, exposing a grainy, black and white close up of our spouses in the hot-tub.

Krista looked over my shoulder. “What’s that?”

“CCD, low-light, and infrared camera with PTZ, pan, tilt and zoom.” I adjusted the picture, switching from infrared to low-light, and getting a dark but pretty visible shot of our spouses chatting amiably, only a foot or so apart.

“They’re looking pretty chummy,” Krista noted.

I turned to her, and dropped my towel, opening her robe.

“Alex, they’re waiting for us to leave,” she cautioned me, as she slowly dropped to her knees in front of my rampant hard-on.

“They’ll expect us to take a couple of minutes to get ready, since we both need to use this room,” I told her, easing my cock between her lips, while I watched the action on the laptop.

Krista sucked nicely, while we both watched the show from the yard. A couple of times you could see Rich looking towards the house, and then we saw Abby climb half-way out of the spa, and bending over the controller, her breasts dangling nicely just a few inches away from Rich. She turned off the bubbles, and settled back into the water.

I pulled Krista off of my cock, and told her to quick throw something on. I yanked on a pair of sweats and t-shirt, set the cameras on record, and logged out. Krista pulled on her pants, no panties, and shirt, no bra. We left the house via the garage, and I shouted over the fence that we were leaving, back in half-an-hour.

We drove to Krista’s place, where we parked the truck, and went inside. Within moments I had her naked below the waist, and bent over the back of the couch.

“Feeling a little horny, Alex?” She asked, wiggling her sweet, tight butt at me.

I reached up into her sopping slit, and laughed. “I guess I’m not the only one,” I told her, and then slid my cock into her giving a relieved sigh. “Damn, I needed that.”

“Mmm, Hmmm,” She moaned her agreement, pushing back to meet my thrusts. “God, I can’t believe how drunk I’m feeling, I only had a couple of glasses of wine and that Jello shooter.” She giggled. “I’m feeling tingly all over.”

“Let’s hope they’re feeling the same,” I told her, stroking in and out of her warm, sweet, pussy.

“Do you really think anything will go on?” She asked me, accepting my thrusting eagerly.

“They’re naked, drunk and alone. I left Abby hot as a firecracker, I’m guessing you did the same?” I asked, lifting one of her legs up the length of the back of the couch, and opening her up wider.

“He was as hard as a rock, when I left that spa,” she said.

“Then I’d say everything was running in our favor.” I fucked her fast, wondering what was happening in our hot-tub at home. She moaned under me. That and the squishy slapping of our bodies together was all you could hear. I pulled out of my pretty little plaything, and laid down in the middle of her living room floor. She smiled at me, and then grabbed the phone off the wall before settling over my waist and lowering herself onto my waiting staff.

“Donna? Yeah, thanks. The call timing was perfect.” She told her partner in slavery while she rode me steadily.

“I wish you were here now,” she said into the phone. “He’s really worked up and I sure could use the help,” she giggled. “Mmm, hmm. Yep, well thanks, you don’t have to call again.” She hung up and worked a little more diligently at the task ahead of her, or inside of her, depending how you wanted to look at it.

She was beautiful, leaning over me, her shirt tousled, open at the neck. Her pretty face had such a look of fierce concentration, as if this job of riding my cock was the most important thing in the world. A series of tiny little grunts escaped her on the downstroke, as I bottomed out inside of her. She leaned over, resting on her outstretched arms, and rocking back onto my cock more insistently.

“Come in me, Alex. Make that big cock explode for me.” She whispered, doing her damndest to ensure just that.

I grabbed her hips and fucked into her wildly, driving myself closer and closer to that peak.

“That’s it, fuck me hard. Take me. Own me.” She murmured, surrendering to my need.

I granted her wish, pummeling her pussy, until the urge was just too much. “FUCK!” I cried out, pouring myself into her, over and over again.

She collapsed against me, stretched out chest to chest, her head nestled in my neck. “God, that’s so incredible. I can never get enough of that feeling, when I can feel you painting my insides, each burst from your cock creating little shocks all through my system. It’s so wild.”

Once my breath settled, I stood and put on my shorts, passing Krista her pants. “Shall we?” I asked.

“How long’s it been?” she asked as she ran into the laundry room to grab some panties before pulling her pants back on.

“Barely 10 minutes.” I told her.

“Great.” She put her hand in mine and we walked back down the street to the front of my house.

“You know the story?” I asked her.

“Sure. I called back when I couldn’t find the stuff. He had it all along. It was in the side pocket of his backpack.” She repeated.

“Perfect.” I told her, opening the front door. “Hello?” I asked softly to make sure the house was still empty. We walked to the rear wall of the family room and peaked out. It looked like they were still in the spa. We eased over to the Master bedroom, not turning on any lights, and I logged in, watching the camera output. With the keyboard, I zoomed in a bit more.

“Bingo.” I announced.

“What?” Krista asked, looking over my shoulder.

I leaned back and let her see. Rich’s hands were clearly on Abby’s chest. And it looked an awful lot like her hand was in his lap.

“Oh my God!” Krista gasped. “Somehow I didn’t believe they’d actually do anything.”

“Oh, they’re doing something all right,” I laughed as I started to undress again. I encouraged Krista to do the same. As we watched, Abby leaned way back, and Rich leaned over and placed his mouth over the nipple of her left tit.

“Jesus! That bastard!” Krista growled as she stripped back down to nothing. I pulled her face back onto my cock, which had gotten hard once more. She sucked me slowly and thoughtfully, while Rich spent a couple of minutes man-handling and suckling at Abby’s incredible tits. Then we saw her lean over and say something to him. He leaned back from her, and she leaned forward, and we could see her hands moving up and down in the water.

Krista sucked more aggressively as Abby worked on Rich. I saw he was talking to her, and she shook her head repeatedly, but then he crawled up and sat on the edge of the spa, and she followed, stroking him. His hand reached out to the side of her head, pulling, but she shook him off, a couple of times while he leaned over and talked. Then she leaned in and licked his little cock. Once, twice, and then lowered her face, pushing her lips down to his pubes, taking all four inches of him into her mouth, and slowly pulling back.

I pushed Krista off my cock, and tossed her the robe. “Now, now!” I told her, wrapping a towel around my waist, ignoring the obvious tenting for the moment.

We eased the back door open and stepped out into the yard, to see my wife’s face buried in the lap of my little slave’s naughty husband. Rich’s head was thrown back as he enjoyed his first blowjob in years. Neither one noticed us until we were almost upon them.

Rich’s head came forward and he looked up. His eyes were like saucers as he said, “Shit!” and quickly slid back into the spa. Abby was almost forcefully pushed off of him, and shuffled sideways.

“Fuck, Rich!” she whined, and then saw his look. She turned to see us stepping up to the side of the spa. She quickly slid away from Rich, and turned back to a normal position sitting in the spa.

“False alarm,” Krista announced as she took off her robe, and stepped into the spa, just ahead of me. “He had the stuff all along, it was just in a side pocket. I called the camp when I couldn’t find the stuff at home.”

“That’s great,” Rich answered anxiously, “saved you a wasted trip all the way out there.”

Krista made her way to the far side of Rich, and sat beside him. I made my way opposite her, sitting beside Abby.

“Everything Ok, while we were gone?” I asked. I looked over to see Krista reach down between Rich’s legs, doing nothing to hide the fact, and stroking his erection. She whispered in his ear, and he turned bright red.

“Sure. Everything was fine.” Abby answered quickly.

“Great,” I told her, my hand on the back of her neck, my thumb idly caressing the edge of her jaw. “I wouldn’t want anything to mess up such a nice evening.” I let my hand slide along the side of her face, and my thumb caressed her bottom lip. Then I slid it between her lips, brushing against her teeth, and she sucked on it cautiously. Her eyes looked fearful.

I leaned forward and whispered to her, “Should we leave? So you guys can finish up?”

She sniffled, and I heard her barely croak out a “no”.

“Man, he really was into your tits, though I can’t blame him,” I continued, reaching out and cupping her breasts, right at the waters edge.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said softly, her head inclined, speaking to the water.

I turned and spoke across the hot-tub. “No, really. I’d like to see you guys finish. Not behind my back, but right here in front of us. Wouldn’t you like to see that Krista?”

Krista didn’t answer.

“Come on. I know you, Rich, would love to finish up. Wouldn’t you?” I teased, my hand still squeezing Abby’s breasts. I turned her to face them, and sidled up behind her, reaching my hands around and fondling her tits, bringing them right up to the top of the water, more than half-exposed.

Rich looked worried. He looked at his wife, than at me and at Abby. “Maybe we should go,” he mumbled, standing up to get out of the spa.

His wife pushed back at him, causing him to sit down on the side of the spa. She climbed up beside him, one arm around him, one hand in his lap. She was completely exposed. “I’d like to see it,” she said in a scary, calm voice.

“See baby,” I told my wife of 14 years. “We all would love to see you finish what you started.” I urged her forward, closer to our neighbors. Krista was pulling at Rich’s legs, separating them, making room for my wife to take up position.

I whispered to her again, “Blow his mind, she’s never given him a BJ, do it.”

Abby leaned over and as she reached out to touch Rich’s member, Krista pulled her hand away. Abby stroked him slowly at first, and then finally she leaned in and took him in her mouth. She sucked his little cock tentatively at first, and then more and more aggressively. And all the while, Krista spoke to him.

“You like that? You like that strange mouth sucking your cock. Taking that whole dirty cock of yours in her nasty mouth. You’d like me to do that wouldn’t you? You want me to let you poke your dick in my mouth. That and in my butt, too, right? She takes it in her dirty little ass. I bet she’d let you fuck her there. In her filthy tight little butt-hole. Is that why you had to have her? Because I wouldn’t suck you? Because I wouldn’t let you stick that prick of yours in my butt? Is that why? She doesn’t mind though, does she. She likes it that way. She likes to have a cock in her mouth. Slut.” Krista’s monologue was spoken softly, and almost without feeling.

Like every town, Wood Grove has its good sides, and its bad sides. Rich, poor, respectable, criminal- the people of the Grove are like people everywhere, more or less. Except when it comes to the secrets they keep- the hot, dark, midnight-hidden acts they are helpless to resist.

This is one of a loosely-connected series of standalone tales set in the same town. No other parts need to be read to enjoy this episode.

A fair warning: this one gets quite a twisted. All characters in sexual situations are over 18, and all comments will be gratefully received.


Life in the Meadows was fucking tough, but Zane loved it. It was all he knew.

The tower block where he lived was the roughest in the neighborhood, and the neighborhood was the worst area of Wood Grove. It was a nightmare of trash, drugs, beatings, guns, theft and prostitution. All the best things in life.

Zane didn’t run with a gang. It should have made him vulnerable, but he had a reputation as a fixer of a kind. A problem solver. People came to him for stuff, and in exchange he got no trouble, and all the gear and women he needed. Fucking paradise.

The power structure in the Meadows was always changing, and it took a smart guy to read the wind and keep on the good side of the right people. And Zane was way smarter than most of the people round him. While the rest of his acquaintances were mixed up in the usual penny-ante shit, the gang feuds and street-level squabbling, Zane had his eye on the bigger picture. There was a new outfit in town- someone was making a move on mob-held businesses, running the Russians out of town, making peace with some of the big guys, and disappearing others. All done quietly, not disrupting everyday business. Zane wanted in.

His only problem, the only fucking pain in the ass of his existence, was his older brother. He’d lost count of the times Gram had done something stupid, and Zane had to waste favors to bail him out. His older brother was a drunk and a fuck-up, who lived with his nineteen-year-old tearaway of a daughter in a shitty apartment two floors away from Zane.

This time, Gram and one of his idiot friends had ripped off a dealer’s stash, figuring he was so low on the ladder no-one would give a shit. The stupid fat fuck had managed to piss off whoever was behind the takeover of the Meadows, and when he was caught, he’d fuck things up for all of them.

Zane had to figure out what the hell to do, but first he had to knock sense into his brother.


“Come ON, Daddy, I know you’ve scored. Share a little.”

Gram Fry grinned, sinking back into his threadbare easy chair, enjoying the buzz from whatever the fuck those pills he took were. Bags of the shit, taken from a slack-jawed kid who looked like he’d never seen a piece before it was shoved in his face. He was relaxed, sitting there in his unwashed drawstring pants, cheap hoodie, his hair unkempt, a week’s worth of scratchy stubble on his face.

He felt good. He felt like he was leaning back into warm, soft fog.

He also felt horny as fuck, but whether that was a rush from the pills or a rush from a successful job, he couldn’t really tell, or give a fuck about.

“Nah, baby,” he said, lighting up a cigarette. “Daddy can’t spare any. Got a buyer lined up.” He dropped his lighter next to the crumpled up brown bag he’d brought his burger home in. Paper napkins had fallen out onto the arm of the chair, but he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve instead of using them.

She pouted, but teasingly. There was a routine to all of this, and he knew she enjoyed it as much as he did.

Liza Fry used too much make-up, was a little skinny, had a bitch of a personality when she was pissed, had eyes that were a little too big, a mouth that was a little too wide, but still managed to make any guy who saw her hard as a fucking iron bar.

She just knew what men wanted, and when it suited her was happy to hand it over.

“Aw Daddy, we’re going to the Nine tonight. I said I’d get us something to party with.” Gram took a long drag, let out a cloud of smoke. The Braid Avenue 9 was a fucking meat-market, a dive club that went in and out of business despite being pretty popular. Gram used to hang there himself, scouting for sweet, young tail. Fuck, the women there loved to dress like whores, and his daughter was keeping up the tradition.

She wore a gold halter-neck glitter dress, short, with a black studded belt around her thin waist. It had a plunging cowl neckline, so low that it was obvious she had no bra on. Her long brunette hair was pulled right back into a tight, high ponytail, braided with plastic jewels. She had thick mascara on, dark eye-shadow, and shimmery cheap red lipstick. Her false nails were blue, and she draped one hand on her hip as she stood in front of him, balanced on her black peep-toe platform heels.

“But I need paying baby,” he said, his eyes all over her body. “And you know you and your friends can’t afford this quality shit.” He shrugged, took another drag.

She leaned over to him, smiling. He could smell her perfume, even through the cigarette haze, and it made his dick twitch.

“Want me to work it off, Daddy?” she said, slipping her hand up the crotch of his drawstring pants. He grinned.

“Maybe. If you’re extra nice.”

With her other hand, she took the cigarette from him, took a drag before stubbing it out in the coffee cup he used as an ashtray. She pressed her mouth to his, exhaling the warm smoke into him, before pressing her tongue in too. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her forward, even as her hand pushed into his underwear and wrapped around his prick.

He growled as he pulled her onto his lap, devouring her tongue as she stroked his hard shaft. She beat at it hard, the friction driving him wild. He fumbled beneath her dress, his fingers pressing clumsily at the front of her panties. She didn’t let up with her hand, making it tough to focus. His finger crept round the elastic, and he made an animal sound as he felt the edge of her damp pie.

He tried to press forward, but his daughter shifted instead to straddle him. Kneeling over him now, she lifted her dress, pulling her panties to one side. She pressed her mound to his erect cock, and he felt the prickle of stubble where she hadn’t waxed for a while.

He gritted his teeth as she manoeuvred his glans to her pussy, running him up and down her moist cunt lips.

Fuck this tease, he thought, grabbing her skinny hips and impaling her on his dick.

She grunted like a dockside whore taking it hard in an alley. He fucking loved the noises she made, just made him want to drive in harder, deeper. She rode him expertly, her arms resting on his shoulders. She stared into her Daddy’s eyes, red lips parted as she panted, a light blush showing beneath the foundation on her cheeks. She flexed her hips, her young, tight cunt squeezing his cock, making him experience every delicious inch of her innermost flesh.

He liked it when the let him fuck her like this, sheathless. She thought the pill would make her fat, so she usually insisted on a rubber. She must really want the merchandise to risk it bareback. He figured he’d better pull out, try and avoid knocking his daughter up-

-Shit. Just the thought was enough to tip him over, and without warning, his cock exploded with semen. He grabbed her, practically screamed as his balls unloaded. He felt her squirm but held her there, pulled down on his meat, as he had the orgasm of his fucking life. It flooded out of him, spurt after spurt, like his fucking heart was driving it, pumping her womb full.

“Shit!” she screeched, pulling herself off him. The cold air hit his slick, softening phallus, as more gobs of come dripped from her, hitting his pants. She moved her hand down as she stood, keeping her panties to one side as she caught the semen that slid out of her. “What the fuck, Daddy?”

He was still dazed, grinning, staring at his dick. Fuck. What was in those pills?

“Sorry, baby,” he said, thinking the shit he was going to get from her was worth it. She shook her head, face screwed up. She grabbed some of the burger napkins, used them to wipe herself up, hands and pussy, before throwing them at him.

“Give me the fucking pills,” she hissed, red-faced.

“Sure.” He was still grinning like a moron. “In the drawer by the TV.”

She yanked the drawer, pulling the small bag he’d set aside for her out. She stormed to the front door, almost knocking Zane over as she pulled it open just as he rang the bell.

“Liza? Girl, what the-”

“Fuck off!” she yelled over her shoulder at her uncle as she walked away.

“Fuck was that all about?” said Zane, even as Gram hastily stuffed his cock away, pushing the soiled napkins down the side of the cushion. “Shit, Gram. You are just one big car crash, aren’t you. Thought you were quitting doing your own fucking blood.”

“It ain’t un-consensual-”

“That’s not the- fuck, forget it. We need to talk, and when we’re done, you need to get the fuck out of town.”


The next few months were good ones for Zane. Fuck that- they were the greatest of his life. He’d smoothed things over with the new outfit in town, and in the process of overcompensating for his idiot brother, showed his worth to Mr Lord, the Grove’s mysterious new kingpin. Without Gram to worry about, he flourished.

And though Liza was his responsibility now- and almost as much of a troublemaker as her father- finding ways to handle her was much, much more rewarding.


She made the first move, expecting him to be as easily manipulated by a sniff of her little slit as her father had been.

“I know you’re connected, Uncle Zane,” she said. “Me and my girls just wanna party.”

“Then you and your girls better find some cash, Liza honey.”

“But I’ve had no allowance since Daddy left- so maybe I could… work it off?”

He rolled his eyes.

“So that’s how it started with your Daddy, was it?”

“Oh yeah,” she grinned, then licked her lips. “I could call you Daddy too- if that’s what does it for you.”

He laughed at her.

“Forget it sweetheart, you’ll have to work a lot harder than that.”

He was still laughing as she stormed out.


With Mr Lord’s backing, Zane’s rise was swift. Within weeks, he was running the tower. Within a couple of months, he was running every block around it.

It was the easiest thing in the world to cut off his niece’s supply. No one in the Meadows was inclined to cross him, not with the organization behind him. Liza wasn’t going to be able to score anywhere local, and it drove her mad with anger.

No one asked him why, and if they had, he wouldn’t have had an answer. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted her unharmed, and it certainly wasn’t like her father gave a shit. Maybe it was because she irritated him, or because she’d thought he’d be easily manipulated. Maybe he just wanted to piss her off.

He let her keep her father’s apartment. She didn’t do much if any housework, but it wasn’t like it had ever been a model living space. He called in on her every now and then, and she was never happy to see him.

In the end, after God knew how many screaming fits, she gave in.

“What do you even want from me?” she said. Her hair was tied back, full make-up on, in skinny jeans, leopard print tank top, and red high-heeled, open-toed ankle boots. “Your guys won’t give me anything. You got rid of my Daddy. You come here, but you never tell me why.”

He sat on the sofa, opposite the chair she was slouching on. He could still see anger, but for the most part it was overwhelmed by resignation.

“Maybe I don’t know myself,” he said. He lit a cigarette, didn’t offer one to her.

“You know I ain’t seen my friends recently. They’re all scared of you.”

“I’m a scary man.” He took a drag, let it out. “These days, anyway.”

“I ain’t even got laid in a month.” It wasn’t a come-on, for once. She said it in a matter-of-fact way. And right then, that got Zane’s interest.

“Time off that’s probably done you good,” he said. “You get too dirty, it don’t wash off, and I know how dirty you are.”

“Gotta have fun,” she said. He nodded.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me about the last time you got dirty.”

She looked up at him. His face was neutral. As she stared, he offered her a smoke. She took it, lit up.

“I was coming back from the Nine,” she said. “Tara, my girl, she got lucky, so I was on my own. Got a cab, some Indian guy driving. I was pretty wasted, but I knew where I was. I tell him to take me home, and half the way back, I realize I left my fucking purse at the club.”

Zane stubbed out his cigarette, waved at her to carry on.

“I figure things could get awkward, so I think, fuck it. I start to lift my skirt in the back of the cab. And I’m giggling, giving him the signals.” She smiled at the memory, and so did Zane. He could feel himself getting hard.

“I say to him, ‘You wanna watch me play with myself?’ and his eyes pop out of his fucking head. So I don’t wait for an answer. I slip my panties off, and he almost crashes the cab, just glancing back in the mirror. Lucky it’s quiet that late, I guess, or he’d have fucking killed us. I don’t care, I’ve got one leg on the seat, and I’m rubbing my clit. Next time I look up, his shoulders kind of bobbing, and I figure he’s got his dick out.”

Zane nodded, stiff as hell now. As Liza kept talking, he unzipped himself, easing out his penis. She watched him, but didn’t stop.

“I’m fingering myself, hard, like, two fingers inside, and I’m pretty wet. About a block away, he pulls into a side street. It’s quiet, and I guess he figures we won’t be interrupted. He gets out, opens the door, and I’ve got my legs open, ready for him.”

Zane stroked himself, thrilling in his niece’s words, her calm voice.

“He’s beating himself off, but doesn’t really climb in. I ask him if he wants to fuck me, and I’m peeling my cunt open for him. Just shakes his head, keeps jerking. No loss, his cock was pretty average.”

Zane felt pre-come leak from his head. Fuck, this was horny.

“So I say, ‘Where d’you wanna come, baby? Mouth, titties? Snatch?’ And he just kind of waves me forward. So I move over to him, and as I’m right next to him, he grabs my titty. Gets his hand into my dress, pulls it out, fucking squeezing it, hard. Then he comes, like a fucking hydrant, all over my pussy.”

Zane let himself go with a grunt, spurting all over his hand, getting the mess all down one leg. He slowed the stroke as he orgasmed, savoring the moment.

“Dirty bastard,” she said with a smile.

“Him or me?” said Zane, looking round for something to clean himself with. Liza got up and passed him some kitchen paper from the small kitchenette.

“Both of you,” she said.

“What happened then?” She shrugged.

“Kicked me out of the cab, fucking flew off. Wasn’t far to walk, though.”

Zane nodded, and sighed with pleasure as he zipped himself back up. He pulled out his cell, rang a number.

“T-Mack,” he said. “My man. Go get some of the good stuff for my niece.”


Zane visited her now and then, and sometimes she’d please him, and sometimes she didn’t. He wouldn’t touch her, but now and then she’d have a depraved tale to tell him that would hit the right notes, and he’d jerk himself off. He liked to drop in on her without warning.

He started to need her, but had no intention of taking her on her terms. He’d never found the right, satisfying way to claim her.

And then the opportunity presented itself, just like that.


“Shit,” she said, looking through her purse. “Forgot my fucking ID.”

Liza’s friends looked at each other, eyes rolling.

“We’re Donna be late,” said one of them, impatiently.

“Fuck off, then,” she replied. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

They left her at the tower block’s entrance, and she turned back to the elevator.

Zane had decided to drop in on her, maybe pissing her off by making her miss a Saturday night out. He was late, the group of them already downstairs as he got out of the car. He saw Liza split off from them, watched the rest of the little sluts walk down the steps outside in their short skirts, titties practically hanging out.

He passed them, hood up, about to follow Liza up, when he realized how he wanted it to go.

He waited in the shadows until she came back, her red platform heels clicking on the rough concrete outside the tower block. She had a slinky, hip-hugging black short dress on, the top of her bra visible above the low cut, her hair clipped up tight, exposing her neck.

She didn’t see him as he followed her, careful to keep his steps quiet. She walked to the end of the block, heading to where she could catch a taxi. She approached the mouth of the alleyway that ran between the tower and the community center next to it.

Zane sped up, and she turned as she heard his hurried footsteps. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her, hand over her mouth, dragging her into the darkness. She struggled as he pulled her behind the dumpster there, the alley strewn with trash, a chain-link fence closing off the other side.

She couldn’t get purchase, tried to kick at him with her heels. His dick stiffened as her small body struggled. He pushed her against the cold wall of the building.

She saw his face beneath the hood, eyes wide with shock and recognition.

He grabbed her, kissed her, tasted the slickness of her lip gloss.

She slapped him, hard across his cheek. He pulled back, face stinging, and she hit him again, harder.

She yanked him towards her, and his split lip made the kiss taste like blood.

He grabbed the back of her hair as they turned, and now his back was pressed against the wall. He pulled her backwards, stared into her lust-bright eyes.

She squatted down, her quick hands unzipping him and pulling him out with a practised haste. She stroked him quickly, her breath hot on his glans in the cool night air.

Her lips closed around him and he grunted, her head bobbing as she sucked him. He felt his hand tighten on the back of her head. He looked down to see her other hand already between her legs.

“Dirty bitch,” he gasped, and she sped up.

He gripped her hair, made her slow down, before pushing his dick slowly further into her throat. He held it there, making her gag as she noisily sucked air in through her nose.

He let her go and his dick slipped out, covered in frothy saliva, as she gasped for air, her mouth surrounded in mess. He grinned.

Someone had stacked crates next to the dumpster, and Zane knocked the top one off, making the trash-can next to it clatter to the floor and roll across the alley. He pulled Liza up, grabbed her hips, hoisted her onto the crate.

The little slut wasn’t wearing panties, and as his fingers fumbled at her slit, he could feel how moist she’d become.

“Do it,” she whispered, and he did. He held her legs apart, and pressed his head to her slit. She moved her hand down, holding her lips open. He couldn’t quite find the entrance, so she steadied his prick and fed him inside.

So warm, so slick. He slid up her tunnel, feeling her flesh envelop him. He fucked her with fast, jabbing strokes, feeling her legs wrap around him.

He wanted her soiled, dirty. Corrupted, used. He heaved into her, and she moaned. His hand slid across her ass, pulling it open, a finger finding her perineum, feeling it wet with her juice, feeling his coated dick pump into her. His finger toyed with her asshole, and she yelped as he forced it in.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass,” he said, and her eyes widened again.

“N-no. No lube-”

He pulled out of her, dragging her to her feet, pulling her to the chain-link fence. She was unsteady on her feet, and almost fell over, grabbing onto the fence for support.

He opened her asscheeks and pushed his dick back into her cunt. She moaned, louder, the fence shaking and clinking with the motion.

-While there is no actual incest in the story, it is discussed, which is why this story calls Erotic Couplings home.

-Characters involved in sexual contact are at least eighteen years old.

It felt like a dream, this wet, silky warmth engulfing me. It had to be a dream. A feeling so blissfully addictive had to be the effect of an REM sleep-induced wonderland. Because otherwise, what else could it be?

Sensation after overwhelming sensation elevated me to the point of eruption, shaking me out of semi-consciousness. At first, my hazy logic dictated that my bladder has simply released in my sleeping bag. However, I was eighteen, so the thought that I had ‘wet the bed’ was quite laughable. In the next few seconds, as I drifted out of my dreamy wonderland, I realized something real and direct was at work. Slowly, it became obvious someone – someone uninvited – was in my tent.

This wasn’t an overall wetness, but an intense, moist heat moving rhythmically along my shaft. My nostrils were filled with the nonthreatening, feminine scent of Coco Chanel, which momentarily put me at ease. My eyelids rose as I awoke slowly, but doing so made no difference. My need to discover the arbiter of my bliss was prevented by the utter darkness around me.

The mystery warmth, which my mind envisioned as a mouth, continued to consume my member. My chest was heaving; I wanted to speak, but no words came out. I couldn’t manage to utter a sound or move so much as a pinky. Although somewhat aware, I still hadn’t arrived at full consciousness and the glorious sensation that held my virgin length firmly was all my confused mind could contemplate. My frozen condition had one positive aspect: it gave assurance that I wouldn’t startle the person whose teeth were dangerously near my cock.

‘Why, who, and what the fuck is happening?’ The words were stuck in my throat. My chest heaved; as I came more fully awake I was filled with a combination of not only lust, but fear.

The warm mouth surrendered its rapid efforts along my length and a silent pause followed. All I could do was absorb and observe as much as I could in the absolute darkness.

At least I could be sure it was a she; I had felt exceptionally long hair brush along my exposed abdomen. The ever present Coco Chanel scent I had noticed as I awakened was an indicator that this wasn’t the actions of one of the varsity alpha’s with whom I attended boarding school.

She lifted her body, causing my sleeping bag to open further. Her very real, soft mounds slid against me as she slowly glided upward. My mind began to contemplate who it could be and it touched upon one person- but I couldn’t place her doing this. Still, an inactive introvert such as myself did not have a long list of admirers.

I sensed rather than felt when she shed her clothing.

“John, I know you’re awake – although you are being much quieter than usual.” She took hold of my cock in her small delicate grip. “Tell me you love the way I suck your cock, baby,” she said in a soft and quivering, seductive tone.

My tongue felt heavy, and, as usual, no words came.

All it took was her speaking, and I knew who it was. Not because of her words, but because of the voice that delivered it. I had never truly spoken directly to her, but her voice was unmistakable. I also knew that I wasn’t the person she thought I was. This had been a case of “pitching a tent” in the wrong tent. The hot body that was now cuddled against my tense frame belonged to Lydia Bryant. Her voice was unmistakable, not only because we shared so many classes, but because we were both on the Adams Academy Choir together. Her voice, much like her, was a free spirit.

Laying there in the tent with more and more of my body covered by the most stunning girl in school, you’d think I’d be all smiles. Not so; I felt suffocated. I wanted everything to return to a state of normality. I’ve never done well in interpersonal situations, especially ones bound to become exponentially horrific. My analytical brain buzzed as she moved her waist to align with mine. The name “John,” kept playing out in my head.

She obviously thought I was someone else; my name is Daniel. But, who was this “John?” We had quite a few students named John in our school, but only one was in senior year with Lydia and me and there was no way…

Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning; I realized who she thought was in the tent with her. My body locked tighter than it had at any other time in my life. My lust gave way to instant nausea. My heart sped up and my chest heaved mechanically. I was scared. Her hands returned to my member and she encased it with what could only have been a condom.

She began to speak but my mind blocked it out. I couldn’t breathe; where before everything had been simply dark to my eyes, now my mind began to go pitch black too. In moments, my brain completely shut down.


I’ll back up a bit: No, my name is not John. The only thing John and I have in common is that we attend the same pretentious boarding school. My name is Daniel Miller and four years ago I was accepted into the fold of Adams’ Academy, a boarding school in Andover, Massachusetts.

Adams’ Academy stands amongst the most elite preparatory schools in America. Without a doubt it is the most successful at producing men and women of tremendous influence. The academy has educated more elder statesmen than there are states. A point of pride for Adams’ has always been the three alumni they produced that made it all the way behind the resolute desk.

I, however, am one of the few charity cases that Adams’ admits annually to add credence to the Adams’ core values of “Virtue, Sacrifice, and Duty”. Scholarship students were the butt of jokes and underhanded jabs. We were the lowest on the social spectrum, even lower than the day students. Thanks in part to my economic status, my first couple of years at Adam I was a social outcast. I was as nerdy as one can get, and I suffered from a terrible case of introversion.

I survived my first two years in Andover by permanently sequestering myself. I talked to no one. With – what I had thought of as luck – I had been graced with a single room. I had always assumed single accommodations would be prized. As it turned out though, all the millionaire alphas had perfected the art of networking early. Doubles were the rarest and most coveted rooms.

Finally, in my junior year, I was forced out of my bubble. I was placed in a double room with an international student. Brandon Cheng had transferred from the school he attended in Hong Kong to Adams. He and I quickly became not just good, but the very best of friends. Even though he had grown up on the other side of the world, we were quite similar. We had the same favorite television shows, and video games and even the same anal study habits.

The one exception to our similarities was that Brandon was light-years ahead of me socially. Before his arrival, eating in Hilliard dining hall consisted of me nibbling away alone at the far end of the large, emasculating room. In the dining hall, students at Adams divided themselves into groups, mainly the nerds and the preps. If I had come from money, a logical fit would have been my fellow nerds.

Most of the scholarship students seemed to try harder than all the other groups to fit into the Adams’ mold but instead I isolated myself before anyone could write me off. From the start, I put up a great wall around myself. I felt estranged from one and illegitimate to the other. I was a kid from a blue collar town in Pennsylvania, and I felt like an island.

That changed with my new roommate. When junior year rolled around I became a fixture at the Asian dominated table in Hilliard. Adams’ almost always reverted to ethnic and socioeconomic cliques, with the occasional spillover or random association. The academy’s miniscule Asian population was oddly cohesive; they did not splinter off into economic subsections like all the others. Thanks to Brandon, I became part of the glue in their clique.

On this occasion, as a senior at Adams’ Academy, I was part of what would be our last annual wilderness trip. For the weekend, our senior class would sleep among the great pines on the north end of the academy’s grounds.

I called this bonding excursion “May Torture,” since it occurred at the end of every May. It was supposed to link us to nature with the hope that upon our final exit and entry into positions of power, we would have enough respect for Mother Nature that we wouldn’t ravage her.

The camping trip had been planned so that the senior students would leave after Friday’s supper. By six thirty sharp we all had to meet on Canard field, no exceptions. No excuses were allowed no matter who you were.

Assistant Head Master Leyland was dressed as rugged as you’d expect from a Rhode’s scholar. Still dressed in his Scottish tweed, his grizzly eyebrows were arched upward as his left hand rubbed his chin.

He approached the activity staff and they didn’t look too pleased. By my digital watch and calculations on the size of the boy’s group, it appeared as though one person was running about ten minutes late. I really didn’t think much of who was running late at the time because it didn’t matter to me; he was just another rich boy. However, little did I know that it would set a chain of events into motion that would drastically change my senior year at Adams.

As we waited, the sporty, brand name-dressed varsity alpha males with their Ivy League crew cuts were making their typical flirtatious gestures to the girls and tossing around a football. They looked to me like peacocks flouting their colors.

Brandon and I stood with our other friends in the middle of Canard Field debating the application of Star Trek’s Prime Directive. While we waited, Brandon pulled me aside. “You should go over and speak to Alice Wade,” he said, pointing at the angelically cute, Chinese-American girl currently talking amongst her girlfriends a few meters away.

“Why?” I asked.

“Like I’ve said before, she has a crush on you. I really don’t know how it’s possible, but it is,” Brandon said with a smug, confident smirk.

“Ha ha, yes, I know you keep saying that. But how do you know for sure?” I asked. I had to admit though, my interest having been peaked.

“It’s so obvious.”

“It’s obvious. Right, I doubt that; she doesn’t like me.”

“Okay, since you’re so inept, I’ll spell it out for you. Why does she choose to sit beside you at almost every meal instead of sitting with the other girls?”

“She’s not into gossiping. And plus, we like talking about the same things.”

“Exactly. Why does she laugh at every stupid joke you make? And why is she looking over her shoulder at you every few seconds like – time it – right now? You need to wake up and make a move! Unless, of course, you don’t like her?”

Brandon was talking about cute, petite Alice. Of course I liked her. I had serious doubts, however, that she liked me.

Brandon holding up his hands in surrender and my eyes wandered beyond Alice to another group of girls, the elites. Don’t judge me; I’m a red blooded male. My eyes went straight to the jewel of the group, Lydia Bryant. She was two inches shorter than my five foot ten, with high cheek bones, green eyes, an unforgettable fluid form and ever-present, radiant skin. She stood releasing her light auburn hair from a pony tail and it cascaded down her back to land just above her tight, rounded ass cheeks.

With no good reason for them to be held up, the girl’s side was being given the thumbs up by Leyland to start their Northern trek. Brandon made sure to point out that Alice was waving at me as she left. Five minutes later, the jackass straggler that had been holding up the boy’s group finally decided to grace us with his presence. Assistant Head Master Leyland made a beeline straight for the straggler, typical Ivy League alpha, John Bryant.

John was a self-appointed disturber of the peace. Each year, by the end of the first day at Adams’, all first-years became acquainted with his hazing rituals. Brandon and I considered him the Emperor of assholes. I’m sure the majority of the Adams’ population agreed, with the exception of the school elites. I couldn’t hear what Leyland said, but Brandon came up with multiple mocking scenarios later on as we walked.

I had just been admiring John’s sister, Lydia. I think it’s clear to point out that there were obvious differences between the two Bryants. Lydia never did disturb the peace like her social animal of a brother. She displayed clear intellect and never made any enemies. I can’t know how she was in private, but to me she always came off as a positive and confident, yet humble, person.

Being attractive was something the two Bryants shared, but intelligence was not. She was going to Princeton but he’d be lucky to get into University of South Dakota. John was a year older than Lydia, and last year, we had all been relieved and glad that John and his gang were graduating. But, low and behold, John stayed at the academy due to failing his courses. The only good quality John possessed was his ability to catch a spiral while blazing down Canard field. Winning was very important at Adams’.

Lydia was another story; she had her brother beat intellectually and socially. I would watch as Lydia participated in the Adams’ debating league. My Mother taught me chess when I was eight and I eventually became a keen player. Playing chess made me observant. I noticed that Lydia would win arguments when she wanted and lose where she could have won. She was a tactician and a masterful mover of men.

It took about an hour and a half to arrive at the campsite. We were all tired beyond reason, and of course the girl’s section had beaten us, winning the better spot. We quickly set up camp before downing a few hotdogs and marshmallows.

It wasn’t long before Assistant Head Master Leyland had another tussle with young Master Bryant. Leyland had found two bottles of Lagavulin hidden away in John’s camping packs which resulted in John getting sent back to campus. Since he had already set up his tent and I was still struggling with mine, I decided just to use his. Hence, I ended up in John Bryant’s custom built tent, with all its illuminating markings. When lights out was called, I was already tucked away sleeping soundly.

I came to after my brief black out and all I could think of was that Lydia, thinking I was her brother, had sucked my cock. My brain wanted to reject the thought. I could feel the heat of her body in my sleeping bag with me, and she was straddling me. I could feel my cockhead sliding into the seductively tight wetness of her pussy. She began to slide down me, her velvet crevice slowly swallowing me.

Her face was next to mine and she ran her smooth upper lip down my cheek, and grazing against my lower lip on its short journey. My smaller head stayed firm, betraying the shocked emotions running through my larger head. I was almost fully encased in that sweet pussy when my bigger head finally decided to override the smaller one.

“Get off me, get off! I’m not your brother!” I said.

I forced her up and off of me and gave her no time to react as I ran from the tent pulling up my pants, my feet bare slapping against the morning dew on the long grass. I only made it a short distance before I released the contents of my stomach onto a nearby pine tree. A member of the activity staff moved speedily in my direction, shining a high powered flashlight in my unadjusted eyes.

“Mr. Miller?” the young male member of the staff said as he recognized me. “Daniel, man, are you all right?” He asked, now aware of my distressed position.

“I…” was all that came out

My mind contemplated spilling my guts verbally. After all, I shouldn’t have to carry someone else’s burdens. However, bent over with a condom still gripping my semi-erect cock, I decided against it.

“I was just feeling a bit queasy, but I’m okay now,” I said to the activity staffer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Where were you before Mr. Night Watchman? I added silently in my head.

“I’ll get you some water. You’re sure you don’t need to head back to the academy? I can tell Mr. Leyland you need to, if you’d like.”

It would have been easier to say yes, but I declined. I would endure.

“Okay, stay here; I’ll be back with a bottle of water.”

As he left I saw Lydia make her exit from the tent. She turned and looked at me. I caught a glimmer of her through the moonlight at the same time she saw me. She was wiping something from her lips.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I whispered loud enough for her to hear.

Without a word she nodded, then was off like lightening. I wanted to assure her that I wouldn’t say anything. God, I didn’t want her to do something stupid to herself. She seemed shaken, but surprisingly restrained.

I tried to convince myself she had meant to be fucking another ‘John.’ It wasn’t like she had asked, ‘do you like the way I suck your cock, blood bro?’

I knew I was kidding myself though; there were no other ‘Johns’ on the trip. No, the bitch was sick, but I resolved that I would keep my promise and keep her secret. Besides, my continued rigidity was proof that not all of me was opposed to what had happened in the tent.

I received my water and a pat on the back, got some mouth wash and headed back to ground zero.

I tried to fall asleep for the longest while, but I couldn’t. What thinking animal could sleep in such an unusual circumstance? All I could do was think and wonder about how things had changed. I thought about the scenarios that could lead a brother to sleep with his sister and vice-versa. Are there any legitimate circumstances for something like that?

Then I remembered last year’s Thanksgiving where I had less than pure thoughts about my older cousin Bridget. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and let’s just say she had developed in a lot of places previously lacking. Before she left our house after Thanksgiving to return to college, she had given me an extra-long, teasingly-tight hug. Her large breasts had pressed against my chest, and it had seemed like she was aware of what her voluptuous flesh was doing to me. As I thought about it, I became more convinces that it had been purposeful.

In the heat of that moment – yes – I probably had thoughts of fucking my cousin. I never acted on them, though. Did that make me morally superior to the Bryants? Daylight came and I reasoned the best thing to do was act like last night never happened. Hopefully she would too.

After breakfast and the early bonding activities were over, I remembered that I had hidden the condom in the tent. Retrieving it, I snuck into the forest. Venturing down the path, I found the lake and tossed the used condom in.

“Daniel?” Someone called to me while I was facing the lake.

I froze for a moment, but rebounded quickly and turned to face the owner of the feminine voice. It wasn’t Lydia; Alice stood there with her tight petite body, shoulder length jet black hair, and the cutest face you’ve ever seen. She put a finger on my lips even before I said anything. “We only have a month left in the year and this has been going on for too long.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I was confused, her words were making no sense to me.

“I guess Brandon didn’t spell it out for you. I’m guess I’m going to have to be blunt. This is hard for me; I was hoping you would do this.” She paused, took a deep breath, and looked at me with her hazel eyes. “I like you, and I need to know if you feel the same.”

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. After last night my emotions were all over the place. Did I like her? I more than enjoyed spending time with her; I looked forward to eating with her and studying alone with her. Digging through my cluttered mind, I decided I liked Alice where I had previously lusted for Lydia.

“I do like you Alice, but…”

“What, “but” could there be?” She was being more assertive than I’d ever seen her.

“This just isn’t a good time to do this,” I tried to explain.

She took my hand and pulled me to the water’s edge where we sat on the wild grass.

“The next few months are the last times we will see each other. I’m going to Columbia and you’re going all the way to Stanford, so I’m telling you I like you. It’s that simple.”

“I like you, too.”

She didn’t respond with words as she locked lips with me; her lips on mine felt right. My hand roamed nervously over her frame, getting close to her perky mounds but avoiding direct contact. In response, she unhooked her bra from under her loose, long-sleeved shirt. She took my hand and placed it under her shirt, pressing them to her firm breasts. My chilled fingers caused her to shiver in the morning air.

We rolled to the ground and she landed on top of me. Our lips met again and our tongues danced together. As my fingers traced her body mapping the undiscovered flesh I had a hard time believing that this was happening. Still, living in the moment, I knew I wanted all of her. My fingers caressed her tight little ass, squeezing the package my eyes had watched for so long.

She pulled back, jerking upwards.

“Are you alright?” I asked. I was hoping that I hadn’t messed things up.

“Yeah, it’s just that we should be heading back now.”

With that final phrase she stared at me, a question of my intent in her eyes. I knew what her eyes were asking, and I was in full agreement. I smiled and nodded at her. I now had a girlfriend and a secret for the ages. What a weekend this was turning out to be.

Alice went back to the girl’s section and I went to the boy’s. The rest of the weekend’s activities, along with the thoughts of my new girlfriend, served to block much of my internal philosophical debate on incest.


A week passed, and I didn’t have any direct interactions with Lydia Bryant until the following Thursday night. That evening, I was on the third floor of the Cullen Library, studying with Alice in a secluded room. After a couple of hours, Alice went to the washroom and left me alone; my back was facing the door when Lydia entered.

“I wanted to say thanks for not saying anything.”

I turned towards her and spoke my piece. “I’d rather act like it never happened. Like I said, your secret is safe.”

“I just wanted to say thank you Daniel.”

All the awkward glances from afar for the last week had more than I could handle and this was too really much. I just didn’t want to speak with her.

“I… er… I have to go find a book,” I said. I really just wanted a way out of the conversation.

I left the study room to walk amongst the rows of books, hoping she would just leave on her own before Alice got back. I walked around and around stack after stack of books. Two minutes later I headed back, praying enough time had passed and that she would be gone.

Alice was already in there waiting.

“Lydia Bryant was leaving here when I turned the corner. Was she looking for you?”

“No,” I lied.

“Are you sure?” She pressed.

“Why would she be?”

“Because she told me this morning that you’re partners on a presentation for your International Development class.” She could see the confusion on my face. “We can stop studying this if you need to meet with her. From that look I’m guessing you haven’t even started it yet. I know it’s just Stanford but you wouldn’t want them to pull their offer.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny and no I’m staying in this room. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can go, I don’t mind.”



“Why?” I asked.

“Because I have a surprise for you,” she said got up and locked the door to the study room before returning to guide me to the corner, out of the sight line of the door’s tiny window. She unbuttoned my shirt, and her smile left no doubt in my mind as to what she planning. I had run away the last time I came close to having sex. I was sure as hell that wouldn’t be the case this time.

She pulled me into her body and propped herself up on a shelf on the wall. The shelves were designed for heavy books and easily supported her petite weight. Her legs wrapped around my waist as she pulled me in for a smoldering kiss, and her fingers began unbuckling my belt.

I took the initiative then, and discovered quickly that there were no panties under the short skirt she wore. Her pussy was irresistibly hot, and her entry was locked tight. The pressure in my groin was intense. I slid myself into her already-wet folds and a moist grip encased my length, daring me to go in further. An ever, expanding warmth engulfing me with every inch forward.

Alice’s legs wrapped around me pulling me in tighter. I knocking her against the wall as I thrust frantically and she begged for more. This was a wild side to her of which I was just becoming aware.

Now I wasn’t nervous about seeking out her breasts. My still inexperienced hands charted her firm mounds and two fingers brought a moan from her as her hardened nipple found its way between them. Her hot pussy and cute kissable lips drove me wild and I was starving for more. I rocketed my hips forward like a maniac, my every inward thrust echoing through our confined space. In that moment, where we were didn’t matter to me, or even her I think.

Alice’s eye widened with stunned surprise by my burst of energy. Kissing my neck with breathless whispers seeping through her tiny mouth, her words increased the fire burning within.

“Yes, Dani… yes, fuck me, yes, harder, yes!” As she moaned, I moved with more passion. I was harder than I had ever been. I began to thrust with a singular focus deep into her tight, wet passage. She had said she wanted it harder, and I obliged. Her lips parted as little moans came forth. My hips started to take directions from her moans, and with her unbelievable flexibility, she repositioned pulling me in deeper.

“Yes, like that!” She cooed before my lips silenced hers. My tongue was hungry for her small, hot mouth. It felt like she was in my head. Her nails dug into my back.

I erupted abruptly and suddenly my legs completely lost their resilience. Once I could think again I realized I had really pushed them beyond their limits. They caved in on me, and our meshed bodies glided down to the carpeted floor. We held each other in silence for a few moments.

Then, to my delight, she lowered her head to my softened member. She stretched her tiny mouth over my girth and within a blink of an eye I was hard again. She smiled up at me and her lusty lips forming an unbreakable seal around my shaft. She took me deep into her mouth and she moved up and down with the intensity of a Hoover for a few moments, before shifting her focus from my shaft to my balls.

While I lay on the floor, re-hardened, she straddled my member. Lowering herself down, she took my head in slowly. My skull snapped back, hitting the floor as my cock nestled inside her again. Moving herself rhythmically along my shaft, her pussy made my cockhead feel like a thousand tongues were focused on it and it alone.

“You’re so beautiful,” I said. Her returning smile was radiant.

My hands moved along her soft skin to her perky mounds and still-hardened nipples. As she rode me, she smiled seductively with her perfect cute lip. She brought a finger to those perfect lips, coated in what could have only been my seed. She extended her tongue to roll her index finger on it like a lollipop and let out a moan.

In time with my urging hands, she began to pull her body down faster on my shaft. I drove upwards with rigid precision, and she grabbed my shoulders to steady herself as her body quivered with her release. It felt like she was going to rip my shoulders off as she dug her fingers into my skin. Her pussy shuddered uncontrollably around me as she collapsed on top of me.

“That was.” She said whispering in collected grasps for air while we dressed. “Great.”

Seated again at the desk, all plans to finish studying disappeared. I couldn’t stop looking at her and she knew it. Sitting next to me, her face was illuminated by sweat and an arousing smile. Her eyes tried to focus on her text but kept lifting upward forcing a smile to creep up unto her face.

I just had to feel her again, a second after the thought our lips locked. We stayed that way, until the closing bells buzzed. We were forced to vacate the study room by a stern unpleased librarian. Smiles were still plastered on our faces, even after getting caught. Alice’s hands tightly griped mine while I walked her back to Eleanor house, her dorm.

Just before she went inside, I asked her the obvious. “You are my girlfriend, right?” I asked my heart pulsing like a speeding train.”

“No.” Her tone was slightly sarcastic and her look said “Yes, of course.”

“I knew that, I was just checking to make sure we were on the same…” She cut me off by placing her soft, incorrigible lips on mine. Pulling away, she made the confidence-setting statement of the night; “You are so fucking cute.”

With that she was gone and I was literally hopping back to my dorm room. I entered the building with twenty minutes to spare before curfew. It was a record late-time for me.

“What are you grinning about?” Brandon asked me as I walked through the door.

I wasn’t going to lie to Brandon but I wasn’t prepared to tell him either. “I can’t say.” I quickly changed into my pajamas.

“Woo, what is this? You know you can tell me anything.” Brandon said. He jumped from his bed, sound defensive.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” I said. I grabbed my towel and bathroom kit, and left the room as quick as I’d entered, not giving Brandon a time to rebut. About fifteen minutes later I attempted to creep into bed. The lights were out and I wasn’t about to turn them back on.

“It’s not going to be that easy.” Brandon said from the darkness.

I jumped a bit in my bed. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” I said, trying to buy time.

“The hell we will, Daniel.”

“Fuck” I mumbled out loud.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I think happened.” Brandon said.

I could sense that smug smile. “I can’t talk about it.”

“I knew it, the second shower after supper the cologne and then this. Dude, did she give you head a tug, or what?”


Right then dorm staff came by shining a light into the room then closing the door.

“So, which was it? I know she wouldn’t have fucked you. What was this the third date? You guys aren’t even official.”

“We are.”

“What? Oh well, tell me.”

“I can’t…” I said. My two loyalties were fighting each other. Then I remembered there was an even bigger secret I was keeping from Brandon; one that no one could know. Plus, Brandon was my most trusted friend. I could at least tell him about this one.

“Come on.”

“If you tell anyone, I swear…”

“What, you don’t trust me? We’re going to Stanford together. We’ve lived together for two years! Man I’m your best friend – your best friend!” Brandon stated, full of grand theatrics.

“Fuck… yeah we did it.”

That set Brandon off. He wanted to know just about everything short of, “Did you take pictures?”

Thanks to him, it took me two hours to fall asleep that night.

That Saturday I awoke to a text waiting for me from Alice, inviting me to play tennis. I ran into the long awoken Brandon, in the dorm’s hallway wearing dark baggy pants and a dark sweater.

“Hey we’re heading into town to play paintball for free time. I know you’re down for it, so go change out of that ridiculous outfit.”

“It’s for tennis.”

“I know what it’s for; since when are you athletic outside of laser tag and paintball?”

“I’m meeting Alice at the tennis court.”

“Which one?” Brandon asked, with a mocking stance.

“Which one? What do you mean; which tennis court?”

“Look it’s supposed to be just the guys, but you can bring Alice paintballing if you’d like.” Brandon said, walking off.

I had an hour before I had to meet Alice so I headed over to Hilliard dining hall for a late breakfast. It was a ghost town, which was the norm for Saturdays. We were given passes to go in town today but most just slept in.

Getting my breakfast, I caught sight of John Bryant leaving a table angrily. As I went to the opposite end of the dining room with my food, I noticed Lydia was sitting at the table John just left. He hadn’t noticed me, but she had.

She went from tears to a pleasant looking demeanor in seconds. I sat down quite away from her, but she got up from her seat and headed toward me.

“I promise I come in peace; can I sit down?”

“I’d rather you not, sorry.”

She sat down anyways.

“I am sorry you have to deal with my problems, I am sorry I did that to you. This must be so awkward for you.”

“That doesn’t even begin to define it.”

“I just want us to resolve this and possibly be friends” said Lydia. Her pleading eyes awaited my response.

“You don’t need to do that Lydia. I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friend. You don’t need to keep tabs on me.”

“I believe you and thank you, but that’s not why I want to be friends. You’re a good person; although, a bit of a nerd.” She whispered the second part with a defense-lowering smile.

Sitting there I tried to read her. She was dressed in a relaxed outfit, with Adams’ school sweatpants and a matching long sleeve athletic shirt. She looked so average, like someone bound by normal rules, but I knew differently.

“I’m going to speak and I just want you to listen. Okay Daniel?”

“I bet you grew up seeing your parents every day. Just nod if I’m right.”

I inhaled and nodded looking at the clock behind her as I swallowed my cereal. Even with my current knowledge about her, her eyes, her hair and her whole, striking nature captured my attention.

“I’m not trying to get your sympathy; I’m just trying to gain your understanding. I’m not saying what happened was right, because it wasn’t and I’m so sorry that what happened to you happened at all. I also regret putting you in the middle of this.”

“Growing up John and I would see our parent, once a year if we were lucky once a year. We were raised in places like this and by people we barely knew. My mom changed out nanny’s like most people change out toilet paper. Before Adams’, the longest time we stayed in one place was six months. We had no one except each other. John left for Adams’ a year before me and it was the first time in our lives we were apart. We started writing and phoning whenever we could. Unexpectedly, he came home to visit one weekend, we were all alone at home protectively cuddling like old times, except it turned into more.”

She paused and started to tear up. I knew they were most likely crocodile tears but they forced me to sympathize further.

I figured it was time for me to say something. “My cousin once made me so…” I trailed off, embarrassed.

“She made you horny, go on there’s nothing you can say to that’ll shock me.”

“Yeah,” I said. Now I was laughing with her.

I told her the hug story and how I had jacked off to my cousin for a week after that.

“You wanted to fuck her?”

I paused hesitantly. “Yes,” I said with my head slumped.

No smile appeared on her face to say “got ya.” Her face showed genuine compassion and understanding.

“I’m sorry to press…” There was an implied question in her tone.

“I would have done it if she had offered, yes.”

“So you can relate?”

“Yes, but your situation seems complicated. Mine is simply perverted.”

“We’re all a little perverted,” she said, staring into my eyes.

Looking away, I spotted the time on the clock ahead and rose immediately. “Sorry I have to go.”

“I assume you’re playing tennis. Which tennis court did you book?” Lydia asked, standing up.

I took her tray and she gave me a thankful smile.

“I’m not sure.”

“You know there are eight, right?”

“I think she meant indoor tennis, so I’ll just head over to the McAlister sports centre.” I said. We walked towards the exit together.

“The new Bryce sports centre has a tennis court too.”

“I’ll text her.” I said. I went for my phone, but there was no response in the minutes following.

Lydia and I ended up walking to the McAlister sports centre together.

“Just before you walked in I ended it with John.”



“I wondered what that was.”

“I made up a story about having to take a morning after pill, which shook him enough for him not to get too mad.”

We arrived at the Macalister Sports Centre and, low and behold, Alice was waiting outside with a smile on her face.

“Before you go, I hear we’re partners on the presentation for Franklin’s development class?”

“Yeah, I arranged that with him, but I’d understand if you want to switch.” Lydia said.

“No, I was just wondering. I guess we should meet to discuss it sometime.”

“So you’re okay with it?”

“Yes, we’re cool now.” I assured her. I began to walk away, towards Alice.

“We should do something on gender equality.” “Remember to tell her how sexy she looks in her tennis outfit.” Lydia said, as she waved at Alice.

I gave Alice a good morning kiss and told her how hot she looked in her white shirt and shirt.

Unable to resist, I found myself delicately caressing her ass.


“Sorry.” I said, pulling away.

She immediately grabbed my hand and pressed it hard against her tight cheeks.

“You’re the only one that gets to do that. Take pride in it.”

My hand slipped below her short tennis skirt, discovered that she was again wearing no underwear, and squeezed her bare uncovered ass cheek, causing a little air to leave her lips.

“I’m going to my locker.” Scanning around us quickly, she stuffed her hands in my shorts and cupped my penis briefly. My eyes widened and my body reacted to her immediately,

“And I’m the only one that gets to do that.”

Minutes later we were on the tennis court. She refused to go easy on me from the get go. Spike after spike after spike and it was soon over, my ego shattered. Not really. All I could was do was try my best and that’s what I did.

“I didn’t know you were so good.” I stated to her at the end.

“I’ve been playing all my life. Did you expect you’d play for the first time and beat me?”



“Yes, because you’re short.” I said as we walked out of the sports centre.

“You think I’m short?” she asked. She playfully punched me in the shoulder.

I laughed and pulled her in for a kiss, and she cupped my balls through my shorts. There was a tree-covered path right next to the sports centre and I pulled her unto it before I could lose my composure. Alice quickly tied back her hair with a band that had been on her wrist and soon my bare ass was rubbing against bark as her tongue ran alongside my cockhead. The pleasure of the one made up for discomfort of the other.

My hands made their way to her breasts and began to rub. We heard youthful voices approaching and quickly “wrapped things up”.

Three freshmen were passing through the tree’s, toking up. Alice, the fearless risk taker, took my hand and pulled us over to the guys.

They tried to hide their joints until we were close enough to be identified as harmless upper years.

“Hey do you mind if we get a puff?” Alice asked.

“We have an extra one.” One of them lit it and handed it to me.

I took two large puffs causing me to cough; Alice patted my back until I could breathe again.

“Dude, you good?” asked one of the lowly freshmen.

“Daniel, seriously, are you okay?” echoed Alice.

“I’m fine.” I said composing myself.

“That was pretty crazy back there.” One of the freshmen pulled me aside and showed me his phone. For a second I thought it was a picture of me and Alice. Instead it was John Bryant and some girl fucking amongst the pine trees. It wasn’t Lydia, that much was certain.