humiliated

My name is John and I live with my stepmother, Tara, and two sisters, Kelly and Jenna. I had a fairly normal family growing up, but that is the boring part of my life. What I want to tell you about is when it got weird.



Some might say that started when my dad left my mother for a woman only five years older than my eldest sister. That did strike us a little funny at first, but we got used to her. She worked very hard at being a part of our family. She got a little strict at times, but I always figured it was just so she could make up for her age when trying to assert her authority as a mother figure.



A couple of years after dad married Tara, he was killed in an accident at work. We had always been well off, but between his life insurance policies and the resulting lawsuit my stepmother filed, we were all quite rich. Well, we would be anyway. All of the money that was left to us kids was tied up in trust funds that none of us could access until Kelly was 21. This story opens when Kelly was 18. So I, at 21, and Jenna at 24, found ourselves in the same boat. We were completely at Tara’s mercy if we didn’t want to find ourselves out on the street and trying to scrape by for years before our money came in. Which none of us foresaw a problem with before that day.



I came home from hanging out with a few friends to find Tara sitting in the front room with a rare but familiar look on her face. That stern look indicated that someone had made her unhappy. Since that look was aimed at me I guessed who that someone was. As my mind raced to figure out if I had forgotten to do something she held a hand up in front of her. Dangling from one extended finger was a pair of panties.



“Do you recognize these?” Tara asked.



“I…um…” I stammered.



I did recognize them. They belonged to Jenna. The last time I had seen them was when I had stuffed them into my desk drawer a week ago. I hadn’t meant to keep them. Not for long anyway. They had ended up in my clothes basket by mistake when Clara, the maid, had brought the laundry up last week.



“I found them in your desk when I was looking for a pen.” Tara explained. “They are Jenna’s, if I am not mistaken?”



“Look, Tara…” I started.



She smiled. “Call me mommy.” She said. “You know it makes me happy when you call me that. Right now seems a good point to try to make me happy, doesn’t it?”



“Yes, mommy.” I said quickly.



Tara walked over to me. “You are going to explain to me what you are doing with these.” She said. I was shocked as she pulled the waistband of my pants out slightly, shoving the panties inside. “But not yet. I will give you time to figure out what you are going to say. Follow me.”



I don’t know if she intended to pull my underwear forward as well when she did that, but it was an interesting feeling as the soft cotton of the bunched up panties rubbed my cock as I walked. Soon we both stood in the master bathroom.



“Since you seem to have no consideration for the privacy of others, I am going to see how you feel when the tables are turned.” Tara said. “Strip. I am going to watch you shower.”



“What?” I asked, shocked. “You can’t be serious.”



“Oh, I am quite serious.” Tara responded. “I already had Clara pack your bags for you. In case you weren’t going to be allowed to stay. Your choice. In the shower or out the door?”



The look on Tara’s face was very serious. I thought she might actually kick me out. Still, I had to try.



“Look, Tara, it isn’t what it looks like.” I said.



Tara picked a video camera up off the shelf and pointed it at me. “All I want to hear from you is, ‘I am doing this for you, mommy’ and then see you naked in that shower.” She said before pressing record.



The stern look she had given me should have been enough to convince me that she would follow through with her threat. The lustful look I saw now sealed it, though.



Taking a deep breath I decided it was best to just get this over with. “I am doing this for you, mommy.” I said.



I took my shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Then I slipped my shoes and socks off. Looking pleadingly once more to Tara I saw her biting her lip and knew no pardon was coming. Turning my back I unbuttoned my pants.



“Oh, no, little man. You’re going to have to face me for this part.” Tara admonished.



Blushing, I turned to face her. I slid my pants down and kicked them aside. Then with a nod from her it was the no turning back moment. She licked her lips as I hooked my thumbs inside the waistband of my boxers and slid them down. I watched as the waistband cleared my cock and Jenna’s panties bounced out to the floor.



Tara laughed. “Oh what would Jenna think if she saw this video and saw her panties come flying out of your shorts?” She asked.



I felt my face grow warmer as all of the blood in my body seemed to rush to it. I instinctively covered myself with my hands as I imagined my sister seeing me like this.



“Hands on your head, little man.” Tara said. “I want to get all of you in frame.”



Slowly I raised my hands to my head and watched as Tara directed the camera at my crotch.



“Well that is a little disappointing.” Tara pouted, humiliating me more. “I hope he is more impressive when he is standing. Kick your shorts aside and into the shower with you.”



The shower was enormous. It was large enough for several people to stand in, with multiple shower heads. It had glass doors that could be closed for some measure of privacy as they fogged up, but it was large enough that they didn’t have to be closed to keep from getting water all over the bathroom. This appeared to have crossed Tara’s mind too.



“Leave the door open, and face me as much as practical.” Tara said. “I don’t want to miss anything.”



Defiantly I stared into the camera and began lathering up my hands and washing my arms. I attempted to be detached. She had already seen everything anyway, so no sense in giving her the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.



The shower had low shelves in the wall, the purpose of which I am uncertain of but I placed one foot on one of them to steady myself as I washed one leg and then the other.



“So boring and clinical.” Tara complained. “Lather up your hands again and put your left foot back up so I can see your ass.”



I blushed again as the detachment was broken with her speaking. I did precisely what she said, since she held all of the power in this situation.



“Now take your middle finger and work it as far up your ass as you can.” Tara instructed.



“What?” I asked, certain I couldn’t have heard that right.



“Your bags are still packed, buster.” Tara said sternly. “Do you want to rephrase your response?”



“Yes, mommy.” I replied, dejected.



I slowly and gently worked my finger into my ass. It felt weird but not completely unpleasant. Other than the fact that my stepmother was right there with a camera.



“Work it in and out.” Tara instructed. “If I find myself masturbating to this later I may find you fucking your own ass kinda hot.”



I was shocked by this comment. As I worked my finger in and out I found myself imagining her playing with herself. The thought was kind of arousing.



“Well look at that. Who would have thought you would get off on playing with your ass?” Tara said.



I was mortified by the suggestion that this is what had turned me on, but what could I say? That it was her that was turning me on? I would be out on my ass in a heartbeat.



“Okay, stop with the butt stuff.” Tara directed. “Face me, and was your…boy parts. Slowly. Until I tell you to stop.”



I faced her and began washing myself. It was humiliating to be standing a few feet from my stepmother, slowly stroking my erection as she watched me with lips parted.



As I continued stroking myself my body began twitching, all of my muscles seemed to want to force the pace to quicken as the orgasm built. As my breathing got shallower and I thought ejaculating inevitable, Tara interrupted me.



“Yep. I think it is clean. Rinse off and wash your hair.” She said.



All of my muscles seemed to object to me stopping. The muscles in my ass, abdomen and my cock clenched as if trying to finish the job on their own. They couldn’t, however, and the tension slowly subsided as I began to lather up my hair.



As I rinsed my hair off and opened my eyes I saw the camera was pointed at me from the shelf but Tara wasn’t there. I barely had time to wonder where she had gone, though. The door swung open and Tara walked in, saying, “It is quite the show.”



To my horror she was immediately followed by Clara. I quickly covered my flagging erection with my hands. It was bad enough that Tara saw me like this but now Clara?



“Stop that.” Tara snapped. “She wants to see.”



The slightly uncomfortable look on Clara’s face indicated otherwise, but both of our livelihoods depended on not arguing the point.



“His erection is going away.” Tara said, “but we can get it back. Do you know what seems to turn the little man on?”



“I am sure I have no idea.” Clara replied nervously.



“Playing with his own butt.” Tara said in feigned shock. She turned to me. “Right leg up this time. Get that finger in there good.”



I was on the verge of crying. Clara looked at me as if this was scandalous. Slowly I raised my leg and lathered my hands. I slid the finger in as I was told, wondering why Tara had positioned me so it was less visible.



“Use the other hand and was your junk again.” Tara said. “Slowly like before. And wiggle that finger in your ass. I want you feeling it.”



I watched Clara staring at me in awe as I stood before her, stroking myself with one hand and wriggling a finger in my ass with the other. I would never be able to look her in the eye again.



“You know, with how much he seems to like something in his ass, we may want to consider other things up there.” Tara said. “Just to see how far his interests go. Maybe I will have you look into finding things for him to stick up there.”



“As you wish, ma’ame.” Clara replied.



“Would you like that, little man?” Tara asked.



I honestly wasn’t sure that I would, but I knew what answer she wanted. “Yes, mommy.” I said. “That might be nice.”



“Yes it might.” Tara said. “Would you like to know what else I think would be nice?”



“What’s that, mommy?” I asked, a little breathless as my orgasm approached again.



“If I made you stay naked for a while. Made you wander around naked in front of your sisters.” She said. “Do you think they might like to see you like this?”



“Please,” I moaned, horrified by the suggestion.



“Maybe they might want to help Clara test new things in your ass. Can you imagine them sitting there watching Clara fuck you from behind?”



I could imagine it quite well. In humiliating detail I could imagine their disgust, their laughter as I was abused by the maid. I wanted to shrink away inside myself to a place nobody could see.



But Tara and Clara could see all too well as I reached the point of no return. With one finger in my ass and my stepmother and the maid watching, I came. One spurt after another shot out and hit the floor, each one seeming to take more of my energy.



As my orgasm subsided I sank down along the wall until I was sitting.



“I guess he could.” Tara said with a laugh. “Five minutes, little man. Clara will come get you.”



I just hugged my knees and cried. What had I gotten myself into?

“It’s okay,” she cooed. “Just relax.”



But it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay. Still, her voice was soothing.



I looked up at her beautiful, heart-shaped face. Her skin was like porcelain-smooth and milky white. Her hair was dark and cropped short above her neckline. And her eyes…her gorgeous, pale blue eyes. I’d fallen love with those eyes the first time I’d seen them. But as she spoke, it was her lips that captured my attention-her dark red, full, soft lips.



“Relax…relax,” she repeated. “It’s going to be okay. Really.” If I could have forgotten about the situation, I could have believed her just from the tone of her voice. It was calm and confident. But I couldn’t forget the situation I was in. It was so different from what I’d planned-from anything I’d foreseen.



Ruth’s hands were pressed against my forearms, above my head. But she wasn’t holding me down. She couldn’t do that. I’m not a very big guy, but I could have easily thrown her off if my hands hadn’t been tied to the far side of the bed. I think she held me the way she did because she liked feeling as if she was restraining me. She wasn’t, but she was definitely in charge.



She moved her body off to the side of mine, but kept her face just inches above mine as she continued to try to calm me.



“Just let it happen. It will be fine. Really. Trust me. You’ll be fine.”



How could it be okay? How could I be fine?



Ruth let go of my arms with one hand and drew her hand slowly down my naked body to my thigh. She gently pulled my thigh toward her, spreading my legs slightly. I could have fought. I could have thrashed and flailed, but to what end? I was defeated. I was tied up and completely helpless.



Ruth leaned in and kissed me gently, almost innocently. As she pulled her sensuous lips away, she said again, “Shhhh. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”



And then I felt my knees being pulled upward and apart and the anticipated, the inevitable, pressure of the man’s cock press against my asshole. Instinctively, I squeezed my sphincter, trying, I guess, to keep my virginity. It was a lost cause, of course. The pressure increased and I knew that ultimately, the man would take me. Nothing I could do would stop it from happening.



“Just relax. It’s okay. It’s okay.” But I knew it wasn’t okay. It was never going to be okay. I was going to be fucked by my wife’s lover. He was going to fuck me in front of my wife while she cooed inanities like, “It’s okay.”



This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to turn out. At least, not like I planned for it to turn out. And I did have a plan.



I’d begun to worry about my relationship with Ruth almost a year ago. At first there was nothing specific-nothing I could really identify. She just seemed more distant and less playful with me. For a while, I made excuses. I chalked it up to our both being busy, to the truism that “the honeymoon can’t last forever.” But then things started happening that I couldn’t write off. There were matches in the car from a bar that I’d never been to. There were phone conversations that got very quiet and then abruptly cut off when I walked into the room. There were some days when Ruth would call late in the afternoon to say that she had to work late that night, but when I asked her about what was going on at work, she was extremely vague. I finally put the pieces together and came to the conclusion that Ruth was having an affair. I didn’t have hard enough evidence to confront her with yet. But I planned get it.



I did a little detective work. It was easy enough to look at her cell phone records. We shared an account and the whole call history was available on line. Over most of the past year, Ruth had called, and been called by, one number hundreds of times-sometimes late at night when I’d been sleeping and she’d apparently gotten out of bed to talk to this person. I tried to track down the owner of the cell number by doing a reverse look-up on line, but without luck. I called the phone several times from different phones, but never got an answer and the voice-mail message was the default, generic one without any helpful information.



While I was pursuing my detective work and anguishing over Ruth’s infidelity, I suddenly had to go out of town for a few days for work. I tried to get out of it, but without luck. I thought I might be able to get Darrin, my best friend at work to take the trip in my place, but he said he couldn’t-that he had unbreakable commitments in town during that time. So, I was stuck leaving town for three days and two nights while I was in turmoil over Ruth’s affair.



I wondered whether she might bring her lover into our house-into our bed. The thought made me feel sick to my stomach. I almost threw up when I envisioned her falling back on our bed, pulling her lover down on her to take her where we had made love so often. Kissing him, sucking him, begging him to fuck her. I had to fight the images away.



I’ve heard about husbands who set up elaborate surveillance devices to catch their wives entertaining lovers. I didn’t know how to do that and I didn’t have time to learn. But I had a low-tech alternative to at least tell me if someone was at our house with her. There was an old lady who lived two doors down, across the street. She had nothing better to do with her time than to spy on the neighbors. Ruth never talked with her; she said the old lady was crazy and Ruth didn’t like having to interact with her beyond a casual ‘hello’.



I didn’t have to do much. I just told Mrs. Haggerty that I’d be gone for a few days and that Ruth’s brother might be visiting and staying there while I was gone. I told her that I just wanted her to know so she wouldn’t worry if she saw a strange car there. That would be enough to make sure the old woman was looking and I knew that if I had any sort of conversation with her at all after I came back, Mrs. Haggerty would either say something about Ruth’s brother being there or ask me why he didn’t come.



I spoke with Ruth on the phone both nights that I was away. It was kind of late when we talked, and I couldn’t help being flooded with worries. Was she with him while I was talking with her? Were they in bed? Had they been fucking and I interrupted them? Were they exchanging smirks while we spoke? Was he teasing her, trying to make it hard for her to talk calmly? I couldn’t answer any of these questions, but they gnawed at me.



When I got home, everything looked completely in order. The only suspicious thing was that the sheets were clean. We usually washed the sheets on Saturday and this was only Thursday. I didn’t ask about them. I just said, as I slipped into bed that night, “Ummm. Clean sheets!”



“Yeah. They always feel so good so I decided to throw the sheets in the wash this morning so you could come home to clean sheets.” I wasn’t buying it, but I didn’t want to confront her now.



On Saturday, when Ruth went to the supermarket, I had a chance to talk with Old Lady Haggerty. I didn’t bring up the matter of whether Ruth’s brother visited. I just chatted about the weather. Mrs. Haggerty turned the conversation in the direction I wanted. She thought it was a shame that Ruth’s brother just happened to be in town on the days I was out of town. For a minute, I wondered whether she was sharper than I’d given her credit for. Maybe she’d figured everything out. But there was nothing in her tone that made this clear and I decided to interpret her comment as an innocent one. There was enough guilt elsewhere on the street.



I had a strange mixture of feelings. The most powerful was the return of the sickness provoked by the sorts of images I’d been entertaining recently. But I confess to also feeling some satisfaction in having figured it out and confirmed it before it became blatantly obvious. What do they say? The husband is always the last to know. Not this time!



But I didn’t know what to do. I thought about it for the rest of the weekend. I had a lot of time; I wasn’t sleeping very well. In the wee hours of Monday morning, I devised a plan. I was going to set up a trap and confront Ruth and the bastard she was sleeping with. I didn’t want to hurt them. Well, maybe I did want to hurt them, but I wasn’t going to. I might scare them a bit, though. They deserved that and scaring them might be adequate for restoring my sense of self-respect. If I could make them shake with fear and feel sorry for what they’d done, that would be good.



And then I thought of Darrin. Darrin was a pretty serious gun nut. Well, maybe not a nut but he had probably half a dozen guns, which seemed like a whole lot to me. I decided I’d borrow one to give me the advantage when I sprang the trap.



I told Darrin I needed to come by his house on the way home from work to talk with him. That was fine; he was going to be home. I didn’t plan to tell Darrin what I wanted the gun for, but he was curious of course and eventually I told him the whole story. He listened very closely and was extremely sympathetic. He tried to discourage me from my plan, but I wouldn’t be deterred. When he realized that I was resolute, he gave in. He gave me a small pistol. He told me what kind it was and lots of random facts about it. But I don’t know anything about guns and I forgot as quickly as he told me. I didn’t even pay that much attention when he was showing me how to use it. I intended only to brandish it around and, hopefully, make this fucker shit his pants.



I left Darrin’s house feeling very good-at least better than I’d felt for the last week. It took me the rest of the week to set the trap. I had to go out of town again, I told Ruth, the next week. I hated to do it after being gone part of the past week. I usually didn’t have to travel for work more than five or six times a year but now I had to be out of town twice in just three weeks. Ruth sympathized but said that she would do fine. I wondered whether there was an edge to her tone, whether she was trying to play a secret game of mocking me. Probably not. I was probably being paranoid.



I arranged a few personal days off work and the next Tuesday, I packed my bags as I always do when I travel. I drove off as if I was on my way to the airport, but I spent the day, and the early part of the evening in a bar, nursing beers slowly. I didn’t mind a slight buzz-there’s courage in Coors-but I didn’t want to be impaired in any way.



After dark, I drove back to the house. There was no car in the driveway or in front of the house. I was worried that, perhaps, Ruth had gotten suspicious and decided not to invite her lover over. More likely, though, they just hadn’t been able to arrange it tonight. For all I knew, he was married and had difficulties making excuses to get out for the night. I was afraid my plan wasn’t going to work. I decided to park a few houses down the street and wait.



I waited for an hour. No car came. I was just about to give up when I saw the light go on in our bedroom. And, I saw two silhouettes on the curtain. Two! The bastard was already in my house. For all I knew, he had been getting his dick sucked in the living room, or maybe they had been fucking in the kitchen, all the while I’d been sitting in my car. No sense crying over a missed opportunity, though. Let them have one last fuck before I confronted them. What do I care? (No sooner had I thought it than I realized that I really cared a lot.)



Now was the time, though. Maybe it would have been better to do it earlier, but now was good enough. I left my car where it was so they wouldn’t hear me driving up to the house. I walked up to the house as a quietly as I could. My heart was pounding, my ears were burning up and my knees were weak, but I got to the house and silently unlocked and opened the door. I crept down the hallway, reaching in my jacket pocket to feel the hand gun. It was reassuring. I was confident I would be in charge of the situation.



Of course, it was misplaced confidence, as it turned out. But at the time I found the presence of the gun in my pocket very comforting. I’d laid my trap and I was about to spring it. So I thought.



The door to our bedroom was ajar. I pulled the gun from my pocket and pushed the door open quickly. I could see only my wife on the bed, lying back and watching me. Strangely, she didn’t seem surprised. I started to turn to look around the room when I was grabbed from behind. I struggled, trying to free my hands, but he was too strong.



My arms were trapped against my sides; I was helpless. Then, I remembered the gun in my hand. I couldn’t aim it at the guy, and I wasn’t going to try to shoot him, anyway. But I figured that a loud report from the gun might startle him and make him think twice about man-handling me. When I pulled the trigger, though, the only sound was a slight click. I pulled the trigger again. Same thing. Had I screwed up? Was there some sort of safety I needed to turn off? I was sure I’d done everything Darrin said to do before using the gun.



I didn’t have much time to think about things. Ruth was walking toward me with a rag in her hand. I couldn’t decipher her expression. I didn’t have much time to try. She put the rag over my mouth and nose. It smelled awful, but not for long. I felt myself slump as I lost consciousness. The trap had been sprung, all right. And I was the prey.



When I woke up, I was naked, lying on my back across the bed with my arms tied over my head. Ruth was on top of me watching me rouse from unconsciousness and uttering her “soothing” words: “It’s okay.”



I couldn’t see the man who was about to fuck me. Ruth was in the way. But I felt his hands pulling my knees up and apart. I felt him press his hard cock against my anus. I felt my sphincter clamp shut, to no effect. His cock was pressing hard and, despite my best efforts, it was beginning to open me up. He’d obviously lubricated his cock well because it was only the resistance of my muscles, not friction, that was slowing the progress of his cock into my ass. And my muscles were losing the battle. I felt myself stretch open.



“It’s okay.” Jesus, I wish she’d stop saying that. It hurt. It was humiliating. It was anything but okay.



And still, he pressed in. The pain had subsided a bit and I could feel the smoothness of his skin as his cock penetrated my hole. He stopped part way in and held it there for a few seconds before withdrawing until he was almost out. I could feel my asshole trying to return to its normal size. But then he pushed in, slowly again, until he was almost all the way in. I could feel his pubic hairs touching the cheeks of my ass.



“See? It’s okay. You’re fine. Feel how he fills you up.” I could feel it fine, but it didn’t feel fine. It felt awful.



Then he pulled out again, paused just inside the entrance to my ass and, finally, pushed in slowly again, this time until he was buried to the hilt in my butt.



And then he started to fuck me. I mean, he started the rhythmic in-and-out motion of a real fuck. It was a weird feeling. The pain had almost completely vanished. There was still this terrible humiliation of being anonymously fucked by my wife’s lover while she whispered soothing silliness in my ear. But there was also something interesting about the sensation itself.



I’ve read stories in which guys claim to get hard as a rock just by being fucked in the asshole. I don’t know if that really happens but it wasn’t with me. My cock was limp and, it seemed, shriveled. At one point, Ruth cupped my cock and balls with her hand and I could feel how limp and small I was. Was this better or worse than getting hard? I didn’t know. Getting hard might make it seem like I was enjoying this. But having a shriveled dick flopping around while my ass was getting pounded by a big, hard cock was emasculating. Worse that Ruth was watching. She’d turned her head away from mine to watch the action below, I guess.



She’d stopped with her mantra of “it’s okay”s-something I thought I’d be thankful for. But I wasn’t, because she’d replaced it with quiet moans. They were moans of pleasure, like one might make when tasting or feeling something wonderful. And I just knew that she was moaning for me-trying to make it seem as if I was enjoying this.



Ruth’s head was still blocking my view. I couldn’t see my assailant. I tried to lean away from her so that I could see, but the restraints on my hands kept me from moving far enough. Ruth could feel me trying to move though. She turned back to me and said, “Oh … I’m sorry. Of course … you want to see your lover.”



I didn’t like that at all. He wasn’t my lover! He was my assailant. (I couldn’t say ‘rapist’, even to myself. Somehow that seemed even more degrading and emasculating.)



Ruth slowly moved her head out of my line of sight. Jesus Christ! JesusFuckingChrist! It was Darrin who was fucking my ass. My best friend-or at least the guy I thought was my best friend. He’d been fucking my wife for nearly a year-a year during which we’d drunk beers together, watched ball games together, ogled women together-and now he was fucking me.



Darrin wasn’t looking at me when I first looked up at him. He had his eyes closed just enjoying the sensations he was getting from my ass around his cock. I twisted in reaction to seeing who it was. I was trying to get away from him-to get away from this awful, impossible situation. My motion drew him out of his reverie. When he looked down on me, he stopped fucking for a second and then a smirk spread across his face and he slammed into me harder than he had been doing. There was a violence in his fucking now. He pressed hard and deep into my ass, trying to reach even deeper than he had been reaching and making it clear that he owned my ass.



“GOD DAMN IT!” I yelled. “You fucker!”



Darrin didn’t say anything but Ruth laughed and said, “And now he’s your fucker.” She ran her fingers up my abdomen and chest and touched my lips. “So, how do you like it? Is it okay?”



“Let me go!” I said, but with no means of enforcing my demand.



“I don’t think so, honey. Darrin seems to be enjoying this and we’ll just have to keep it up until you start enjoying it, too.”



That was going to be never, I thought.



But Darrin was enjoying it. And I don’t think it was just the sensation of my ass clamped down on his cock. He’d pulled my legs up and was holding them apart and high above my head. At one point, he put one of my legs on his shoulder to free a hand and flipped my withered pecker back and forth with his fingers for a second-just to emphasize that it was so tiny and impotent. He wasn’t just enjoying the physical sensation my ass gave his cock. He enjoyed dominating and humiliating me in front of my wife, too. There’s no doubt who’s the alpha male when one guy’s lying there with his legs spread over his head with his tiny, shriveled dick flopping as he gets his ass reamed by the other guy’s hard cock.



Now it was my turn to look away. I just couldn’t stand looking at his superior smirk as he fucked me.



I don’t believe for a minute that Ruth misunderstood why I closed my eyes, but she pretended I was doing it so I could concentrate on how good it felt to get fucked by Darrin. And she started cooing to me again.



“Oh, yeah, honey. Just close your eyes and focus on that beautiful hard cock thrusting in and out of your little cunt.”



It wasn’t a cunt. It was an ass. And it wasn’t for fucking. It was for shitting. Well, I guess I couldn’t have pressed that line too hard. I’d pleaded with Ruth to let me fuck her in the ass. She’d never given in.



“Ohhh. I know exactly how it feels. It feels so good to have his hard cock stretching your ass.” I opened my eyes suddenly at that and looked at her. She knew what I was thinking. “Oh, yeah. I guess Darrin and I get a little more carried away in our lovemaking than you and I ever have. But now you can feel exactly what I do when he fucks me in the ass. Isn’t it wonderful?”

You have heard the story a million times. A college girl wants a better grade and offers her charms to a professor.



It is an occurrence that happens somewhere in colleges and universities throughout the country and around the world. While I never succumbed to the need, I personally know of two girls in my college sorority who had sex with this prof for better grades and one other girl who did her prof for fun.



That’s one of the things about college life.



I’m a mom now, and thoughts of those olden days when I was in school cross my mind. Not that Ashley, my college freshman daughter, would ever do such nasty things, but maybe her friends might. Actually I was more worried about boys, because Ashley didn’t date much in high school and I worried about her being toyed with at college.



Ashley and I had numerous talks about boys, from the birds and the bees to their un-denied need for sex whenever possible. I think young guys think about sex more than anything else. I know my brothers did. As well as every guy I dated.



So Ashley and I had conversations. She was, and is, a good girl and I knew she’d behave properly when she went away to school.



Now her friend Dina, on the other hand, was a borderline slut. Damn, that girl was something. She was loose, and skated her way through high school I know she’s had sex, because her mom admitted she was on the pill after a near “accident.” Still she was the ying to Ashley’s yang.



Dina and Ashley went to State U. together as roommates and all I heard about over the first several months was how Dina was painting the town while Ashley claimed to be studying. Ashley wanted grades to get into graduate school, Dina wanted to know where the frat house parties were.



All I knew is that Ashley did not come from money. My husband and I had begged, borrowed and stole from our own wants to provide for her college education….along with the bank who issued a loan.



So the telephone call startled me. It was Ashley, and she didn’t beat around the bush as there was not much in the way of small talk.



“Mom, I’m in trouble,” she said, crying.



Here I hadn’t even known she had a boyfriend. How did she get knocked up?



“No mom, it’s not that, nothing like that at all.”



Asking her to start from the start was the thing to do, and after catching her breath she told the story I couldn’t believe.



She’s been working hard to get the best grades at the University. She’s worked long and hard, hasn’t dated nor goofed off in any way. Study, work, study and do well, that’s what she’s been up to.



Her roommate and closest friend, Dina, was the anti-school. She was majoring in party-time, and has been running around with various guys, drinking and, well, learning new positions for banging her beaus.



Along the way Dina realized that she needed better grades, and soon, or she’s be on her way out of school.



“Mom, I just couldn’t say no when she said she wanted to check her test answers. I just couldn’t. So when we were taking our test in Mr. Johnson’s class well she was looking at my test answers as I went through. I mean, I didn’t look at her stuff, but she did mine and I didn’t stop her.”



“So Dina was cheating off your work?”



My daughter admitted yes.



So why was Ashley upset?



“Professor Johnson reminded me of the code book and it clearly says I was just as wrong as Dina for letting her cheat off my papers. He says I could be expelled for cheating. He said I am just as guilty since I knew she was looking at my work. We are both in big, big trouble.”



We spoke about all that happened and I realized that while Ashley hadn’t cheated that in the eyes of the school she was equally culpable. Shit, thousands of dollars down the drain and a permanent black mark on her record.



“Whom can I speak with?” was all I could ask.



Ashley was quick to answer. “I have a meeting Wednesday with Mr. Johnson, and he agreed that you could be there…..please don’t tell daddy, please.”



My husband would go ballistic. His hair trigger temper would not be good for our daughter. He’d go nuts, she’d get kicked out of school and then he’d apologize.



I wholeheartedly agreed with Ashley that I’d come down and talk to the professor with her. We had to talk some reason into the situation. It should be an expulsion situation, and I am sure we could work something out.



Little did I know Ashley hadn’t told the entire story.



That I learned at the meeting as the Professor laid out the facts of the situation. Not hearsay, but the facts.



Yes, Ashley had let her friend spy on the answers from her exam paper, and that was against the rules. But Ashley also had a term paper that looked remarkably similar to Dina’s as both had apparently purchased them from the same online term paper mill service.



My little perfect daughter had not only stretched the truth out outright lied to me. Then came the net bombshell, she had signed a paper admitting to all of the above and part of the remedy.



I read the agreement as Ashley cried sitting next to me. The professor, a 50-something distinguished man with a huge mane and smirk of a smile. He knew he had my daughter dead to right, and watched as I gasp.



“You can’t do this,” was all I said, after I read the document. Oh, she was going to receive an F on the term paper and F on the exam. I knew that was coming. But my daughter also in the admitting of guilt agreed to receive a spanking that day just to stay in class and not get to an expulsion hearing.



“Mom, I agreed. I know we can’t go before the disciplinary board. I apologized to the professor. I understand what I signed. I want this over with so I can try and pass this class.”



The professor spoke up. “Mrs. Bennett, I understand your concern, and if you read that document again I can assure you that you can do the spanking. But your daughter needs to be punished for her actions. I am cutting her a major break here.”



Clearly he was right. Ashley was in big trouble, and actually deserved a spanking, something she had not received in years. I nodded my head, looking as the professor pulled a ping-pong paddle out of his desk.



“You have the honors, Mrs. Bennett.”



I waited for him to leave the room, but he sat there and merely said, “Go on.”



At first I wanted him to leave, but the more I thought of it I realized it would add to the humiliation of my daughter.



Soon Ashley assumed the position over the professor’s desk.



“Lift her skirt,” said the man. “Leave her panties on…if she has them on…”



I followed his direction, reminding myself that from his vantage point he couldn’t see her backside. Ashley luckily did have cotton panties on, adorned with the word “P I N K”. How appropriate, as her behind would soon be pink then red.



“Mrs. Bennett, if you take it easy on her, I will take over. You don’t want that to happen. So make sure she gets a proper spanking. I will start over from scratch, but if you do the job right there will be only 20 strokes.”



Damn, he was smart. My first thought was to pull my punches so to speak.



SWAT. I gave my daughter a firm spank with the paddle, bringing a ouch that was replaced by an OWW after the second and third swats.



Totally ignoring the professor, I handled the spanking with efficiency. I hadn’t spanked my daughter in ages, but I knew what to do. I remember getting a spanking from my father after being caught making out in the barn with Bobby Joe Miller. He had my jeans off and his strong and firm spanking reminded me I shouldn’t be caught in that position again. My ass hurt for a week.



I continued my spanking, thinking how much Ashley deserved it. My daughter began to cry and as much as I wanted to stop I knew she not only deserved it but she needed to receive it to keep her status in the classroom.



Not stopping at 20, I made a point by pounding her ass twice more just because. Once over, my daughter smoothed down her skirt and asked for something to dry her tears. She was red faced, and her behind I am sure was beet red.



She stood, looking at the floor, and asked if she was done. The professor said she’d be welcome back in class and she had an upward road to go if she expected to pass his class.



Ashley kissed me on the cheek and said she understood and appreciated me coming down, and again begged me not to tell her father.



Once gone I asked the professor what he meant by his comments on the class.



“Mrs. Bennett, your daughter has a zero with nearly half of the class complete. She’s on her way to a failure grade and that will not look good on the record. You are a smart woman and can do the math. Yes, I won’t kick her out of class, but, seriously, it would take a major miracle. Well, unless…



Looking at the man, I asked, “unless what.”



He said she might be able to do some extra credit work, almost with a leer.



“Don’t you even think it,” I said, “don’t you think of touching my daughter.”



“That never crossed my mind, Mrs. Bennett,” said the professor. “There are other ways.”



I stared as he stood, brushing down the crease in his trousers. That’s when I noticed the bulge, which is ran his hand across to sort of push down.



“You don’t think I’d…you don’t expect me to….you…” was all I could stammer.



The professor looked at me and smiled. “You are a woman of the world. You know how to get things done. I just know you do. And your daughter, well, she’s looking at an F. But I don’t know, I like her, and, well, I really don’t want to fail her. I really don’t.”



I watched as he slowly stroked his pants.



“Come on, Mrs. Bennett, help get your daughter a passing grade.”



“But I don’t do that, not even for my husband.”



“You don’t what?”



“You know, oral sex. And I have never cheated on him either. I can’t.”



The man looked at me and nodded. “Guess she’s failing, then….but you know, I don’t want sex. I just want a blowjob. A simple blow job.”



Somehow he didn’t think that was cheating, and in the predicament that my daughter was is I was swayed by his argument. I know it makes no sense. In my entire marriage I had not looked at anyone else, unless you count Johnny Depp.



True to my husband, I was embarrassed the few times I would masturbate when he was travelling. I did, but felt guilty the next day. This was so different though. We had invested a lot in Ashley and college and didn’t want a black mark against her name.



Robert and I had a normal sex life for couples are ages. At least I think so. It was the once a week arrangement, maybe twice. We got a little adventurous for anniversary and such, but it was, well, I think kind of normal. I surely didn’t look at other guys and I don’t think he ever cheated on me.



Probably our most adventurous sex was a tryst on our pool table a couple years ago or a quickie on the way home from a party by the side of a deserted road. It was just the way it was. But on this day I was only thinking about Ashley and her jam, the money we’d invested in her education and the thought of it being flushed down the toilet.



I don’t know what got over me, but I walked to his side of the table. He nodded to the floor, and as if in a trance I dropped to my knees.



Oh, I hated oral sex. I only gave it to my husband on his birthday. And I didn’t swallow. That was gross. Never. Hated the taste and the disgusting thought of it.



But if I could get the professors off quickly, and get my daughter a passing grade, and nobody knew well….



Staring at the crotch of his pants I realized the bulge was still there. I guess I thought the professor would, you know, make himself available but I soon learned more than I needed to know about this being a job.



Reaching over, I slowly unzipped and began reaching inside his trousers. It was as if I had all thumbs, and when I looked for a little help he was merely smiling down at me. “Get on with it, Mrs. Bennett. Somebody could come by the office.”



Reaching around his underwear I finally grasp his dick. It was big, and when I pulled it out I realized it wasn’t as long as my husband’s but it was much thicker. I looked at it and wondered what to do next.



As if guided by his words (“lick it, Mrs. Bennett”) I bent toward him and licked the cock tip then worked my lips down the staff.



“Ah, that’s nice,” said the professor. “How about kissing it all over….yes….more….yes like that.”



The man’s cock was throbbing and I enjoyed the way it pulsed as I kissed it. I hadn’t realized how sexy that was until now, and I kissed and licked that cock like it was a very special treat.



He maneuvered around a little, getting the ball sack out of his pants as I kissed my way up and down the cock. At his direction I slipped down a bit and kissed his balls before moving back to the tip.



“Suck it, Mrs. Bennett, suck my dick,” ordered the man. As if in a trance, I did. I opened my mouth and slipped the dick into it while reaching over and holding the base. “No, no, I don’t want hands just your luscious lips.”



For the next couple minute my daughter’s professor and advisor rocked in and out of my mouth. His big thick cock filled my mouth and a couple times he thrust a little too deep setting off my gagging mechanism. But soon it was a safe journey in between my lips.



“Lift your shirt,” demanded the professor, “let me see your tits.”



I nodded no but that just made him harder. “Come on, it will help me cum.”



I reached down and lifted my top and then my bra, displaying my breasts to a man I barely knew. He reached down and caressed them while continuing to rock in and out of my mouth.



Glancing up, his dick inside me, I saw he was clearly enjoying. I also saw the cell phone snapping shots of my sucking his dick.



Quickly I pulled away and ordered him to stop. “You bastard, give me that,” I cried out, trying to reach up and grab the phone. He pushed me back down, setting the phone on his desk. “Hurry before I get out of the mood and your daughter fails. I might even get her before the expulsion board after all.”



Resigned, I re-started sucking his dick. I got into the rhythm and moved and swayed my head while my tits bounced below.



It was humiliating. I must have been beet red, maybe as red as my daughter’s ass! The man was insistent, and he kept rocking back and forth as I sucked his despicable cock.



I thought of the last time I’d sucked Robert. It was actually last year’s anniversary. He told me later he’s saved up for me, he didn’t whack off for a week. I dressed in a baby blue nightie and we shared strawberries before he got me kneeling over him on out bed.



Bobbing my head and jerking his dick I sought to make him cum fast. What I didn’t know is he’s been wanking before I came into the room and because it had been so long since he had an orgasm he shot his stuff into my mouth a minute or two in the act….and held my head. Soon I was sputtering and spitting his nasty sauce all over.



We slept in separate bedrooms that night, and anniversary to forget. With that in my mind I hated what I was doing even more. But the professor didn’t care, he merely continued his thrusting while whispering naughty statements.



“You like that big dick, don’t you Mrs. Bennett.”



“You look pretty sucking my dick.”



“Bet your daughter is a sweet cock sucker like her mom.”



The last one nearly got his dick bit off, but he held my head and told me to be careful….or else.



I wasn’t in position to neither negotiate nor demand. So I just kept sucking his cock and listening to his nasty words.



His dick filled my mouth when he moved as much as possible into my face and held himself still. That caused me to gag, but I could tell he loved the feelings and figured it would get him off quicker. I was right.



“Oh, yes, Mrs. Bennett, you daughter is no longer failing, oh yes, I think she’s getting a C for sure. Oh yes, yes YES.”



Keeping my eyes closed and letting him use my mouth, I tried to stay as motionless as possible and let him make the actions that he liked. He was so demanding and I know he enjoyed the embarrassment I was undergoing.



Then professor’s hands caressed my head as his cock shot its sauce into my mouth. Spurt after spurt filled my mouth, and I was perplexed as what I should do next. I wanted to spit, I really did, but he kept rocking hard in my mouth and soon I had to swallow or choke. I swallowed.



Aghast at the whole scene, I couldn’t believe I sucked off a man other than my husband for a grade….my daughter’s grade.



The professor held his cock and jerked it against my face, but most of the cum had already been expelled. Still, a little bit of sticky stuff made it’s way to my cheek.



“You are an incredible woman, Mrs. Bennett, that was fantastic. Your daughter has a special mom, and your husband is a lucky guy.”



As I stood he looked at his phone. “I think I will keep these photos just in case you say something to someone you shouldn’t, Mrs. Bennett. Not that I don’t trust you. Let’s consider it an insurance policy.”



Nodding my head, I just asked him to make sure my daughter passed. “No problem, Mrs. Bennett, she has a passing grade thanks to you. Don’t tell her, because I want her in class. It will be hot thinking of her burnt ass in the seat listening to my lectures. But I will keep a watch over her. Don’t worry.”



The ride home was uneventful, except Ashley called and asked if the professor said anything else after she left.



“Oh he said a lot, but I think I talked him into your being able to pass if you do a strong job, without cheating, the rest of the year.”



My daughter let out a deep breath.



“Thanks so much for what you did, mom, my behind hurts but I know you had to do something you really didn’t want to,” said my daughter. “I will be a perfect student from here on out.”



If only she knew the entire story.

There was a time when my wife and I went through some kinky and daring sexcapades. I often took the lead, placing Joyce in various precarious situations of exposing herself in public places. One drunken evening at a luxury resort, I got her to pose completely naked on a pool table we found in an uninhabited room of the hotel. I even got some great photos of the event. Another time we made love in many positions on a golf course at night. Then there was the time I exposed her in front of several men at the Red Rooster in Las Vegas while I directed her to grab hold of two cocks and allowed a different stranger’s mouth on each of her breasts. One of her tit suckers happened to be our taxi driver for the way back to our hotel, who I didn’t mention to her until after we left the cab. Those few adventures were certainly memorable times.



The list goes on and on. Joyce asked me once why she was the one who was always on display. I told her I would be happy to exchange roles, but she never initiates the scenario. “Besides”, I said, “men don’t want to see me naked and very few women are into sexual games like men can be. I can’t think of any man who wouldn’t want to see you naked”. She smiled and kept silent after that statement, as if mulling over a thought or two in her head.



I own an insurance company that employs about ten people at any given time. During the time of this story I am about to tell, there were eight females and two males. Cheryl is our cute bubbling receptionist and my personal secretary. She is young, attractive, smiles constantly, and has a great set of legs. There is Scarlet, who is short, skinny, has a scratchy voice, and looks older than she probably is due to the amount of sun she exposes to her already wrinkly face and body. Jane is the professional, very poised, tall and well proportioned in all assets of her body, hair usually done up, and has a thing about clearing her throat…”ah..hem”.



There is Kim, a short and beautiful oriental gal, who fits nicely into all the tight clothes she normally wears. She always displays plenty of cleavage, which tempts me with the difficult task of trying to avert my eyes given our professional office environment. She too has a distinctive voice, with high sexy overtones. Of course Barbara is the tall, jolly, and slightly overweight comedian with a noticeably large bust.



Three other women are all married, strictly 9-to-5 and very prim and proper. George is also married and a family man.



Lastly, there is Jason, our flamboyant and gay leaning male.



I am close to all of my employees and while I like to be friends with all of them, I try to maintain a professional relationship in the office. Christmas office parties though, I have been known to drink more than I should and find myself singing songs in front of my cohorts when I probably should keep my singing to the shower only.



Still, I can’t help myself from admiring the women in my office. I can never tire of glancing at Cheryl’s shapely legs, especially when she bends over and her dress rides up her pert ass and exposes more of her taught upper thighs. Jane has a robust figure that screams out sexuality, even though she seldom ever lets her hair down. Barbara hides a rack on her chest that cannot be overlooked. Kim has a tight curvy body all over and her cleavage practically calls out to me. Scarlet, though not very sexy in appearance, exudes the suggestion she craves sex.



I shy away from eyeing the married ones and although I project a professional demeanor in front of all my staff, I can’t help myself appreciating and fantasizing their special female qualities too sometimes.



My wife and I have a very satisfying sex life. We try to keep it interesting by spicing it up from time to time, but I never expected what was soon to occur.



I suspected she was up to something when my Birthday was fast approaching and I noticed her whispering or talking to several of my employees when she thought she was out of sight and earshot. She knows I hate Birthday parties thrown for supposedly my benefit, so I couldn’t imagine what she was up to. However, on a Saturday, when my Birthday did arrive, I found out she did have something planned. She grabbed a bag and had me get in the car and we went for a drive out in the country. She told me to turn here and there and we were soon several miles out of town. We past a café along the roadside and soon turned up a hillside dirt road for another several miles. I knew the area, but I had never been up this road before. We came upon a flat plateau out in the middle of nowhere with grassy plains and a few large trees. She told me to pull over near one of the big trees in the middle and turn off the car.



“I have a very special day planned for you, but I need you to cooperate a little,” she said.



Looking around at the desolate area, I simply said “ok”.



She reached in her bag and pulled out a blindfold, one that was designed to keep from peeking out from around the edges. “Here, put this on, but first…” She handed me the blindfold and reached back into her bag and brought out a couple of Velcro wrist cuffs. “Put these on too,” she said smiling.



I smiled back and did as she asked. It wasn’t the first time one or the other wore these cuffs. I put the cuffs securely on and then donned the blindfold.



“Open your door and step out of the car,” she told me as I heard her car door open and her getting out and closing her door. By the time I slowly got out and stood up Joyce was in front of me and I heard her drop her bag she must have brought from the car.



“Take off your shirt. It’s my turn to be the Director,” she assertively ordered. It was summer and I was only wearing a tank top, shorts with no underwear, and flip flops.



I pulled off my shirt and held it out for her to take, which she did. “Now your shorts”.



I knew we were alone. The sun was out and I would likely get a burn in undesirable locations if I stayed out like this for too long. But I didn’t argue. Obviously, my wife wanted this experience to please me in some fashion and I didn’t want to ruin her plan, whatever it may be. I unbuckled my belt, unsnapped my button and unzipped my zipper. I pulled down my shorts, carefully taking off one flip flop at a time to remove my shorts completely. I stood up straight feeling the warm breeze upon my now naked body, standing by my car in this open field. I won’t brag, but I have a fairly good build for a forty-year-old on this day and stand at six feet even.



Joyce guided me away from the car door, apparently threw my clothes inside and closed the door. I heard her pick up the bag and she took my hand leading me away from the car. We walked about 50 paces before she stopped and released my hand. “Stand still for a minute”.



I noticed the sun was no longer beating down on me. We must have gone under the shade of the tree. I could hear what sounded like a blanket being shaken out. She took my hand again and walked me a few steps and turned me around. Somewhere, she came up with a strap to affix to my right wrist cuff. Then she adjusted me and repeated binding my left wrist cuff. Soon she was adjusting the straps pulling my arms straight out parallel to the ground. There was no discomfort, but my arms were tightly secure with very little play for movement. She removed my flip flops and I felt my bare feet touching a blanket. I next felt her attaching ankle cuffs and binding them to what I imagined were more straps. When she was almost finished, she tightened the pull of my legs to about 3 feet apart. Not only did I feel totally unable to move my limbs, but the widening of my legs also had the effect of a tighter strain on my arms. If she wanted me to feel totally bound and at her mercy, she succeeded.



She then bent my neck down and gave me a wet juicy kiss. To my surprise, she transferred a pill of some sort from her mouth to mine. Then put a water bottle to my mouth and pulled my head back by grabbing the hair on the back of my head. I could only guess it was one of my Viagra pills by the shape and size. Normally, if I would take one, I would only bite off a third of a pill at a time. If my guess was correct, I will soon be susceptible to hard-ons for the next 4-6 hours if that is her goal.



“I forgot something I’m gonna’ need. I’m going to that café we passed a few miles down the road. I should be back within half an hour or so.”



“What?” I exclaimed. “You’re going to leave me like this”?



“Yep,” she laughed. “You’ll be fine. If anyone drives by, pretend you’re a statue”. She gave me another kiss. “Happy Birthday darling”.



“But…!”



“Bye,” her voice was already fading in the distance.



Within minutes I could hear our car driving down the road, ’till only silence and a calm breeze could be heard rustling the leaves in the trees and the tall grass in the field. Occasionally a bird or two could be heard chirping in the near distance. I felt pretty silly being bound to a tree, spread eagled, and as naked as the birds chirping above me. I tested my restraints. No. Not gonna’ happen.



It seemed like forever, until what must have been about 20 minutes since Joyce gave me that pill, I felt a flush in my head. I could sense my face heating up. It must be the Viagra taking effect. Joyce must only have been gone about 15 minutes if that was the case. Only another 15 minutes or so until she returns, hopefully.



Do I hear a car? I could swear I hear… It’s getting louder. Do I hear voices? Oh great. Again, I ineffectively tugged at my bonds. I’m in trouble. From what I remember from when I could see, there is no way anyone is going to miss the sight of me, being no more than 50 paces off the road. Maybe if…nah…I’m screwed. The car…cars? There is more than one car? Could this get any worse?



Voices were getting louder and I could almost distinguish a word here and there. They are driving pretty fast. Maybe…



“Hey, slow down!” A female voice shouts out the window. “Pull over. Look! There!”



” OH MY GOODNESS!” Another female voice’s sound wave was sent in my direction.



Busted. Joyce…where are you! A chill ran through my body and I felt very naked at being discovered in my current state.



I heard a car pull to a stop close by. Female voices are chattering in a state of excitement. I hear another car pull to a stop. More voices. One sounds male. Most sound female. What! A third car? Maybe one is Joyce.



“Let’s get out! Let’s check it out!” Doors are opening.



I would be panicking if there was anything I could do. I heard doors slamming, footsteps coming closer. Three cars of people? Is one my Joyce? This is going to be humiliating? OH NO! I feel a twitch between my legs. NO! STOP IT! I don’t need a hard-on now! My face felt flush and my embarrassment was growing, as was my previously soft dick.



“He’s totally naked and tide up.”



“He’s blindfolded. He can’t see us,” this last voice came from a male.



“Shhhh!”



“Why shhhsh? He’s tied up.”



More footsteps approach.



“What the…would you look at that?” A new female voice enters the fray.



That voice…sounds like…



“Look. His penis is getting bigger.”



Pretend I’m a statue. Pretend I’m a statue. Yeah, like that’s gonna’ help my situation. And tell that to my enlarging pecker.



“I’ll bet we can get it bigger,” a scratchy voice said. I could sense her approach nearing my person.



“AHH!” I screeched and jerked my restraints from the surprise touch of a hand on my member. All thoughts of striking up a conversation were in a state of confusion. I was thinking Joyce would come to my rescue. Maybe they would leave me be. Those thoughts were over when further contact with my penis was initiated.



The mystery hand surrounded the base of my cock and stroked it gently with a dainty little hand. It actually felt quite pleasurable. “Look! It’s getting harder…and bigger.” She continued to stroke my cock. I felt my foreskin tighten when my dick quickly grew to full length, normally that would be seven inches.



“Let go. Let’s take a look.” Strangely, this came from the guy.



“Ooooh!”



“Wow. I had no idea,” said a female voice.



What? No idea? Who? That voice sounds almost like…



“Give it a lick,” said the male voice.



“You give it a lick.”



“Ok.”



What? That’s a male voice. Isn’t it?



It’s not like I had any choice in the matter. I was bound tight. My cock felt like it was hard as a rock and pointing to the sky. I sensed a human presence kneel before me. “AHHH!” He/She grabbed my balls.



“He seems to be sensitive there,” he/she chuckled. While a hand was still wrapped around my testicles, I felt a wet tongue lick the underside of my shaft.



“Uhmm,” I tried to squirm free…or maybe not. It could have been an involuntary action. I really don’t know. Whether I liked it or not, and I did like it, there was nothing I could do. I felt so on display, so exposed, so naked, and unable to free my bonds even if I wanted to. The sensations coming from that tongue was doing something for me.



Then I felt the wet/warm sensation of a mouth engulf the tip of my cock. “Uhmm,” again, an involuntary groan.



The mouth became more and more aggressive, taking my now excited and throbbing dick deeper and deeper with each stoke. After about 3 minutes and what must have been quite a show from the feel of it and the quietness of the crowd, the mouth came to a stop.



“Mmmm! Nice cock. Anyone else want to give it a whirl? I think I’ll check out his ass.” If that is a man, I could be in trouble.



The female with the scratchy throat said, “I’ll suck on it for a while”.



Where do I know that voice? It couldn’t be…could it? “OWW!”



A slap on my left cheek sounded out loud for all to hear and left a sting too. Things started happening all of a sudden. My balls were once again groped, my ass cheeks were being massaged, my cock was being engulfed in a different warm mouth, and all of a sudden I feel a tongue on my anus. That had to be a guy. Then one, two, three, no four sets of hands started touching everywhere I had available skin.



My head and face were being caressed, until my head was bent forward, “Ahem” a warm pair of lips attacked my lips. I reciprocated the kiss when a tongue darted deep in and around my mouth, teasing my tongue which responded in turn. JANE. It had to be Jane who was kissing me.



That must be Scarlet, doing an incredible job sucking my cock. She must be taking in five inches from what I could tell.



And what the hell? Is that Jason who took me in his mouth and is now reaming my ass hole with his tongue?



Who else? I thought I heard voices from Barbara, Cheryl and Kim? This had to be orchestrated by Joyce. Is she here somewhere?



“Mmmm,” was all I could get out of my mouth. This feels so great. Jane was going wild in my



mouth, until all of a sudden she pulled off.



“I want his cock!” Could that be from my uptight and respectable Jane?



Scarlet pulled off and almost immediately thereafter a new warm mouth took my cock down to the base, a full seven inches. Thoughts of Linda Lovelace flashed through my mind. Jane. Is there no end to this woman’s talents?



A new pair of lips joined mine. The only one tall enough would be Barbara. She went at me with a passion.



A new hand was playing with my balls. Cheryl? Kim?



What is Jason doing back there? His tongue was entering the inside of my anus. It felt quite good, really, but Jason?



Either Cheryl or Kim just took my balls into their mouth and their tongue swirled my testicles almost with pain attached…almost. Whoever it was must have been the one squeezing my right leg for balance. There was a lot of activity going on down there, too much pleasure to keep track of all at once.



Jane was doing a fantastic job on my cock and I began wondering how long I could hold out. Since my mouth was busy and full of a lusty tongue from Barbara, there really wasn’t much warning I could give. Sorry Jane. Ready or not…



“UMMMPH! UMMPH!” Barbara released her hold on my mouth as she sensed a change in my focus. “AAAH! AAAH!” My orgasm was so powerful, I don’t remember when I felt so much pressure released from my ball sack. “AAAH!”



Jane was amazing. She held her mouth passionately steady and swallowed every ejaculation with four or five inches of cock sill pumping her orally. Talented at giving bow jobs. Who would have thought?



Barbara couldn’t stand it anymore and reattached her mouth to mine, thereafter I could only groan out muffled noises of ecstasy.



I was close to passing out. The bonds holding my wrists were taught, now holding my limp body. My knees gave way with the little slack that was available. Everyone around me took a momentary break and separated from my naked and temporarily exhausted body. That was an amazing orgasm. This special day’s event was sure to be memorable and one to fantasize about for years to come. I was enjoying the break of peace and calm, thinking everyone would soon disperse and drive away.



“AAWOW!” My shock came like a jolt from an unexpected lightning bolt. Jason apparently lubed up a finger and slid it up my rectum. It startled me more than anything else and I immediately stood tall again. At least as tall as a spread eagled man could stand anyway. He first explored the boundary of his extended finger’s reach. Then he began stroking and kept pumping me up the ass with increasing frequency, which grew the attention of my female office workers it seemed.



“Hee hee hee. That woke him up Ja…ooops.” Sounds like Barbara.



I could hear the rustle of feet scrambling behind me.



“Nice ass,” someone with a sexy voice sounding like Kim said. “Makes you want to slap it”.



“SMACK!”



“Owwwa,” I reacted.



“Why don’t you really give it to him? I’d love to watch,” again guessing this comment came from Kim.



“Me too.” This last voice sounded familiarly like my wife’s.



“Huh?” was all that came out of me.



“Zzzzzip”.



“Wooo Hooo!” Then hoards of cheers and laughter followed.



No. This couldn’t really be happening.



“Stick it to him!” Scarlet?



“Yeah, this ought to be good.” Once again Kim seemed to be a big fan of my not being able to defend my manhood and being put in this vulnerable and humiliating position. She was about to watch her boss, tied up, in the nude, about to be violated by another man’s cock, and all in the presence of being embarrassed in front of his employees (…or group of strangers, if she thought I was still being fooled.). Maybe she wanted some payback. Or maybe she was a little on the kinky side. And was that my wife who essentially gave Jason the “go ahead and fuck my husband”?



In any case, I was about to be publically humiliated by being butt-fucked in front of my office employees. My face must have been turning beet red, as I felt another distinct flush in my face. I tested my bonds again for any hope of weakness. I clenched my butt muscles in a feeble attempt to close my exposed entry.



I heard Jason’s pants being removed, then apparently his underwear.



“Wow! You’re huge! Here, let me lube it up for you. You need to get it good and hard and he’s going to need plenty of lube from the size of you. You must be at least eight or nine inches and you’re not even fully erect yet.” That was Jane’s voice. Prim and proper Jane? I never knew this side of her.



“I can’t believe I’m watching this.” Cheryl?



I can’t believe this is happening!



“OK, I think I’m ready to ream me a new one,” Jason roared in his slightly gay accent.



NO. NO. NO! My mid torso squirmed trying to avoid the inevitable.



Jason grabbed my hips with his two large hands and pulled me backwards a foot or two. This action exposed my butt cheeks giving the impression I was asking for it.



“Stick it in. Stick it in. Stick it in.” That was without a doubt the voice of my wife.



Soon everybody joined in. “Stick it in! Stick It In! STICK IT IN!”

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