This is a sequel to the story “Kate Middleton Needs a Proper Fuck.”

DISCLAIMER: The following contains extreme subject matter and utter absurdity. If you are looking for something purely erotic, a quick stroke story, or are a member of the British Royal Family, or are easily offended, you might want to move on.

Thanks to everyone who read the last installment.

Special thanks to Signore Calcio for inspiration.


Infuriated, Kate stormed out of the study and into an adjacent room, slamming the door behind her. Clutching her phone, her hand shaking with rage, she nearly punched the “Pippa” speed dial icon.

“Hiya!” Pippa answered with a giggle.

“So I guess you couldn’t be bothered to tell me William was to be joining us!?” Kate screamed.

“Did he really?” Pippa asked, sarcastically, still giggling.

“Yes, he did! Why on Earth did you text him!?”

“Listen, babes, I knew one of two things would happen. Either he’d go mental, divorce you, and you’d get to go back to partying with me, or he’d be totally randy and jump in, which’d spice up you lots’ sex life. It was a win/win situation, really.”

Kate didn’t respond, knowing Pippa was right. What a twisted bitch but evil genius she was, Kate thought.

“So which was it?” Pippa asked, slyly.

Kate still didn’t answer.

“He joined in, didn’t he?!”

“Yes…” Kate murmured.

“Hahaha! I knew it! He did the same thing back in Uni when he caught a mate of mine cheating on him. He hasn’t changed much over time, I guess. How was it, at least? I hope he didn’t prematurely ejaculate and ruin it.”

“No, actually I sucked him off and he lasted nearly five minutes! It was brilliant! Best sex I ever had with him.”

“Now was I right or was I right? You two just needed a little nudge in the right direction. What happened afterwords? Was he raging?”

“Not at all. Said he had a laugh. Said he’s open to more fun like this.”

“See, babes?! Maybe this’ll be a whole new world of fun for you two! You can thank me in a fortnight when we see each other.”

“In a fortnight?

“You forgot already? We’re supposed to do that thing at the high school!”

“Oh, that’s right. Okay…”

“Maybe we can go out later that night, too. Have a laugh, like old times. I fancy you buying me a pint after all I’ve done for your marriage.” “You bloody bitch! I’ll buy you two!”

“See ya then, babes.”

“Ta, Pips.”

After her conversation with Pippa and after finally getting some good dick, Kate felt much better. Nice, too, was that she didn’t see William for the next few days. It was good to have some time apart from him. Strangely, though, no one told her he’d be away. She wondered if he went on holiday without her. However, when she asked around, none of her servants seemed to know where he was.

A couple nights later, she was starting to get worried and was about to call his nan or brother, but then, as she lay in bed, reading the latest “Twilight” book, she heard the door to her bedroom fly open, slamming into the wall with a thud.

Prince William emerged from the doorway, reeking of alcohol. One of his eyes was slightly shut and the other was bloodshot.

“William, where have you been?” Kate enquired, concerned.

“Shut the fuck up, you bloody tart!!!” William shouted at her. He then stumbled into the toilet and flung the door shut. Kate suddenly heard all sorts of crashing and breaking sounds. About a minute or two later he came out, stark naked, holding her dildo. Kate was speechless.

“So what’s this, love?!!” William yelled.

“That’s… Oh you know what that is! Why were you in my cupboards?!” Kate yelled back, visibly upset.

“Pray tell, what is it exactly that you do with this contraption?” William asked, inspecting the instrument.

“I think you well know.” Kate shot back, crossing her arms and pouting, concurrently embarrassed and angry.

“Why don’t you show me!” William commanded.

“What?” Kate asked, stunned.

“Show me how you use it!” William screamed and threw the dildo at Kate. Kate ducked to her right, averting a direct hit. The dildo landed only inches from her head.

“Oh, you want to see, do you?” Kate asked, grabbing hold of the dildo, all of a sudden turned on by William’s domineering attitude.

“That’s right! Show me how you use it, you fucking tart!”

“You want me to fuck myself with this dildo for you?”

“Yeah, I do! Now go on and fucking do it, you stupid bitch!”

Kate had never seen him like this. She’d never even seen him pissed. Usually he only had a glass of wine or two, but he never got pissed or spoke to her in such a way. Initially his invasion of her privacy and name calling had offended her, but now it was making her hot, being degraded in such a way. Kate flashed William a naughty smile, pulled up her white satin nightgown, slipped off her red cotton g-string, and drove the dildo up inside her pussy, slowly.

William laughed at first as Kate fucked herself with the dildo but then started getting hard and began stroking at his skinny cock. Seeing William wank, Kate got into it, too, suddenly feeling even more horny and picking up the pace, fucking herself harder and harder with the dildo.

“Ahh, you fucking slag! You fucking slag!” William kept muttering as he wanked.

“Oww, yeah..” Kate moaned, now really getting into it, gyrating and squirming, her pussy soaking wet.

William walked over to Kate, cock in hand. At first she thought he might stick his cock in her mouth like he did a few days before, but instead, he began ejaculating, shooting ribbons of pearly warm love juice all over her face.

She’d shagged plenty of blokes but never had anyone come on her face. Posh girls of her stature generally aren’t treated in such fashion. But she had to admit to herself, she fancied it. She got off on his hot sticky jizz squirting all on her and she closed her eyes as his spunk ran down her cheeks and suddenly had a massive orgasm herself.

After coming, William called her a “fucking tart” again (which seemed to be his new name for her). Then he collapsed into bed, in the opposite direction of Kate, his smelly feet kicking into her pillows, and quickly passed out, snoring loudly. Kate lay back, pulled out the dildo, and left it on the nightstand next to her. She licked his salty cum off her face, slipped her knickers back on, and returned to reading her book, almost as if nothing happened. Although she felt violated and kind of like a whore, she had to admit to herself that she enjoyed it.

Next morning Kate awoke to an empty bed. She stretched out her arms, yawned, got up and went over to the loo. The door was almost closed, but not all the way shut. She’d paid no mind, though, not thinking anything was amiss, but upon opening the door she was shocked to see William wearing a pair of her pink slippers and otherwise naked, with her dildo sticking halfway out of his arse, standing over the bathroom sink, masturbating to a picture of his mother, Princess Diana.

“Oh my God!!!” Kate shrieked.

“Don’t you knock, you fucking tart!?” William screamed at her.

Kate stepped back slowly, in horror of the scene. William, red faced and unshaven, eyes still bloodshot and crooked like last night, grabbed her left arm and shoved her face first into the wall. She felt him mash the picture he’d been masturbating to against the back of her head and then felt him wrap one of her large hair scrunchies around the picture and over her mouth, both gagging her and holding the picture in place on the back of her head.

Kate didn’t put up a struggle, but William wrestled her into a half-nelson and hiked up the back of her nightgown. Next thing Kate knew, William’s slippery cock snaked up in between her bumcheeks and plowed up into her arsehole.

William laughed hysterically and pumped into her arse at breakneck speed, with all the strength his tiny cock could muster, yelling over and over again, “oh mum!”

Kate always fancied a rough bumshag but wasn’t sure she wanted William shagging her up the arse whilst staring at a picture of his dead mum. Especially not a picture of his dead mum that was tied onto the back of her head. Still though, at least William was taking a sexual interest in her, which made her happy.

Kate tried to use her free arm to caress William, to let him know it was okay, but William caught it, twisted it back, and put her into a full nelson. He looked down at his cock sliding into her arse, and smiled at the sight of her light brownish shit all over it. He then closed his eyes, enjoying the tremendously pleasurable sensation of his dick stabbing into Kate’s tight, hot arsehole, and imagined that he was somewhere in his favourite castle in Scotland, giving his mum a good shag in the bum. How he’d always fancied her bum, ever since he could remember…

“Time for an enema, mum!” William cooed into Kate’s ear, before shooting up her arsehole full of spunk.

“Erraph!!” Kate mumbled into her gag, enjoying the feeling of his hot cum shooting up into her arse, which was always her favourite part of a bumshag.

Letting Kate loose and tearing off his mum’s picture from the back of her head, William wiped his dick clean of her shit with her nightgown. Then he grabbed a fistful of Kate’s hair and sternly warned her, “Not a word of this to anyone, yeah?!”

Kate nodded and tried to smile at him, but William turned his head quickly and muttered, “Now go wash yourself up, you fucking tart!” and pushed her down to the floor and stuck her shit-covered dildo in her mouth. He then hurriedly went back to the sink, brushed his big buckteeth, and skipped out of the loo, singing a Motorhead song.

Perhaps this was his way of getting back at her, attacking her like this, Kate thought, struggling up to her feet and sucking on the dildo like a lollipop, enjoying its shitty taste. She figured maybe it was a one time thing. However, that turned out not to be the case.

For the next fortnight, she stopped seeing William around the palace. Other than official functions, she’d never see him during the day. She had no idea where he’d go, but he’d always come back home at night, drunk, and had now turned his anal attacks into a nightly ritual.

It would always start out the same. He’d kick open the door to their bedroom, call her a “fucking tart” and then proceed to flip her over, slap a picture of his mum on her head, and fuck her up the arse rudely. Every once in a while his bumshaggings even ended with a donkey punch.

At first this all bothered Kate a bit, because William treated it as if he were raping her, when in fact, she fancied the rough bumshags (and donkey punches, too). The masochist in her enjoyed the pain and humiliation of it all, although she wasn’t sure about the mum pics. Still, she didn’t say anything, since he had caught her cheating, and hey, at least he was doing more than his old tired missionary shags. And somehow with sodomy he didn’t prematurely ejaculate, so Kate didn’t want to complain.

Kate did worry, however, that maybe her pussy had gotten loose and that’s why he’d no interest in her vagina anymore or that maybe he’d become a poof. Whatever it was, she decided to start doing some vaginal tightening exercises just in case. Especially, too, since she was about to see Pippa.


She and Pippa met in the small hours of morning for breakfast. When the servants left the room, Kate told her about what William had been doing.

“Sounds like he’s possessed by a daemon!” Pippa said, chuckling, whilst sipping her Earl Grey tea.

“The bumshags I don’t mind. But the mum pics are a tad creepy, don’t you think?” Kate asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But every bloke has his thing. So he wanted to shag his mum? Plenty of blokes do, and if every bloke’s mum looked like Di, I’m sure even more would. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

“You don’t?”

“No, babes. Just be glad he’s shagging your bum rotten. Now I do think you probably need more than that, though. That lovely pussy of yours must be terribly lonely.”

“Now that you mention it…” Kate snickered.

Kate and Pippa locked eyes. Pippa knew something was up.

“What’s that look for?” Pippa asked.

Kate sprang up from her seat and shut and locked the door to the breakfast room so no one could get in.

“I think you owe me something for what you’ve done to William.”

“Oh do you? Like what, might I ask?”

Kate approached Pippa slowly and seductively. She yanked down and off her knickers and handed them to Pippa, then combed her fingers through Pippa’s hair.

“Let’s be a bit naughty…” Kate whispered.

“I fancy being naughty…” Pippa replied.

Kate took a seat on Pippa’s lap and the two kissed deeply. Pippa really was a brilliant kisser, Kate thought, as their tongues twisted around together in playful circles. Kate then inched up her skirt, stood up, sat on the table and spread her legs apart, revealing her bare, hairy, and pungently musky smelling pussy.

“My fanny sure is lonely, sis…” Kate said, in a breathy voice. “I remember how well you tended to it back in Uni…”

Pippa smiled, pulled her hair away from her forehead, and commenced to stick her face between Kate’s legs and exuberantly licked and sucked at her sister’s throbbing clit, whilst at the same time reaching down into her own skirt, under her lace knickers, so she could finger herself.

“Ohh…” Kate moaned, her hands full of Pippa’s soft hair, as she caressed Pippa’s head whilst Pippa’s tongue tickled and darted along the entirety of Kate’s enlarged, pulsating clitoris. And with each electrical touch of Pippa’s tongue, Kate tensed up.

With all her vaginal muscles constricting, Kate’s body began to feel hot, very hot, like as though it was in flames, and her moans became increasingly louder. She started bucking her pelvis, ground her pussy into Pippa’s face, and finally let loose a heavy flowing, squirting orgasm, which Pippa took in the mouth, slurping up and swallowing every bit of ’till the very last drop.

“My, my!!! I shoulda remembered you were a squirter!” Pippa laughed and wiped her mouth with the tablecloth. “That one’s on the house, babes. Next time you’re going down on me.”

“No worries, Pips. Been far too long since we’ve done this.”

“It has. But I reckon it’s the first time we’ve done it without blokes around. Reckon we’re turning into lesbians?”

“I don’t know. You always did seem to fancy practising your kissing with me a wee bit too much…”

The two laughed, hugged, and Pippa cupped her hands on Kate’s cheeks, brought her face to hers, and the two had a long French kiss.

“Mmm, my pussy tastes good…” Kate joked after their lips broke apart. Pippa snickered and nodded in agreement.

Then they cleaned themselves up and stepped out to a black Rolls Royce limo, which was waiting to take them to the nearby high school.

When they got to the school, the head teacher, a bald, wrinkly, stocky little man, with coke bottle glasses and strong resemblance to the character “Uncle Junior” from the “Sopranos,” greeted them with over-zealous handshakes, standing far too close to them for comfort. His breath smelled something rotten and his teeth were decayed and purplish. After making painful small talk with him for a few minutes, the girls were whisked over to a stage, where they made a brief appearance presenting awards to groups of honours students who’d made record marks on their A-Levels.

Afterwards, backstage, Pippa whispered to Kate that she had some coke and asked her if she fancied snorting a couple lines before the next boring school thing they had to endure. Kate nodded enthusiastically, and they asked the head teacher where the loo was. The head teacher pointed them in an eastern direction, and they set off, but soon got lost in the large school’s labyrinth-like corridors, finally ending up at what looked like a locker room at the top of a stairwell.

“Well, I guess this’ll due.” Pippa said, slightly out of breath after climbing the stairs.

“I think these are the gents’ locker rooms, though…” Kate said, also slightly wheezing from the stairs.

“You’re right, it is the gents’. Hmmm, maybe we went the right way after all!” Pippa replied, with a naughty grin.

“I don’t know…” Kate said, reluctantly.

“I know…” Pippa replied, grabbing Kate by the arm and dragging her inside.

At first, the girls didn’t see anything other than a bunch of closed lockers and a few empty benches. They proceeded to walk into and around the locker room and soon noticed the sound of showers coming from a distance. Following the sound of the running water, they happened upon the shower room, which was just past the lockers and loos. Inside the shower room were five 18 year old athletes, likely wrestlers or members of the row team. All were muscular, with especially developed upper bodies, i.e., bulging pecs, lats, and biceps. All had sculpted legs and glutes, too, and all were very well-endowed.

“Hiya boys!” Pippa yelled out to them, in a playful voice. “My sister and I were wondering if you lot could help with something.” Both Pippa and Kate were smiling devilishly.

The lads looked shocked at first to see two beautiful birds at the entrance of their shower room. One even covered up his large penis with his soapy hands. However, the birds’ smiles quickly put the boys at ease.

“What is it you need assistance with, love?” Enquired the tallest of the group, a Scandinavian looking, blond haired blue-eyed lad of about 6’5.

“My sister and I were wondering which of us has the tighter pussy. Think you lot could help us figure it out?” Pippa asked, taking off her blouse and kicking off her heels.

The lads broke into nervous laughter, looking at each other as if they’d just seen aliens land on Earth.

“This isn’t a put on, is it?” Asked the shortest of the bunch, a muscular Pakistani of about 5’7.

“Is this a put on?” Pippa asked Kate, before wrapping her arms around her waist, French-kissing her, and hoisting down her skirt and knickers. Soon enough, the girls completely undressed each other in between kisses, then entered into the steamy hot shower room.

Kate got between the tall blond and the Pakistani, kissing the blond whilst the Pakistani stood behind her, rubbing his hard, stubby but thick cock around in her arse crease. Kate bent over, grabbed his stubby cock in her hand and shoved it into her pussy. She used her other hand to stroke at the blond’s massive, nearly 10 inch unit, and soon started sucking on the tip of it, whilst the Pakistani clapped at her bum, his head titled back, eyes closed as he shagged her slowly from behind.

Pippa had gotten sandwiched between two of the three other lads, all of whom looked like younger versions of David Beckham. The two wasted no time in double penetrating her. One stood behind her and poked his cock in her arse, whilst the other stood in front of her, holding up one of her shapely legs, fucking her pussy. The third one Pippa reached out and wanked.

When the bloke fucking Pippa in the pussy came, rather quickly and hard, Pippa screamed out that it was time to play a game and pushed the bloke in back of her out of her arse. The Pakistani then came in Kate, also quite fast and hard, and Kate broke away from him and the blond and walked over to Pippa.

“Okay, boys. It’s time to play, ‘who’s got the tighter pussy.’” Pippa said, in a school teacher-ish way. “My sister and I are going to stand against the wall and you three are going to take turns shagging us both. You other two are going to get hard again and shag the one of us you didn’t shag before. Then you’ll have a vote on who’s got the tightest pussy. Fair enough?”

The boys speechlessly nodded.

“Geez, Pips, we’ve not done this in ages. The most we did it with back in Uni was three blokes. Think we can handle five?” Kate whispered.

This chapter is for everyone who pointed out (and rightfully so) that chapter 2 of this story ended far too abruptly. I’m sorry, and here’s the rest ^_^


An hour later, Dean was sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. Haley was on her knees in front of him, and Vanessa was beside her, teaching her how to suck his dick.

“Don’t suck so much, make sure that your lips are sliding along it. You need more spit on here, come on, make it wet.” she was saying. Meanwhile, Julie was behind Vanessa on her hands and knees, eagerly munching on her daughter’s wet snatch and asshole from behind. Dean had given the daughters the same suggestions that he’d given Julie. Now he had a family of sluts to attend to his every whim.

Once he was satisfied that Haley now knew what she was doing, he told the two girls to suck on their mother’s massive tits. They did, taking one each, as Julie sat back in the armchair opposite him. Dean took up position behind Haley and started to fuck her as he watched them suckle on their mother’s breasts. He positioned the head of his cock right at the entrance to her virgin hole, and pressed it firmly against it, pushing it inside. Haley gasped as she felt the intrusion, and Vanessa reached out to hold her hand. Julie stroked her younger daughter’s hair lovingly, and whispered soft words of encouragement.

“It’s ok sweet girl. It only hurts for a while.”

Dean pushed slightly harder, feeling her tight snatch give in little by little to his penetration. He felt some resistance, and knew that he’d reached her hymen. Haley was grunting and moaning the whole time, squeezing her sister’s hand, as well as her mother’s. Then Haley suddenly pushed back onto Dean’s cock , he felt a small ‘pop’ as the resistance gave way, and he went all the way inside her cunt. She screamed in pain as the point of no return was reached, and Dean held onto her hips as he started a steady rhythm, moving in and out of her softly. After a few minutes she was moaning, and moving her hips in a circular motion, relishing the feeling of being filled up by a man for the first time. Vanessa sat up and knelt on the floor beside her sister, and held Haley’s ass cheeks open as Dane picked up the pace a little. Dean watched with delight as Vanessa let a long string of saliva droop from her lips to land on Dean’s dick as it slid out of Haley, helping to lubricate it.

When Dean had given Julie suggestions, he’d given her three trigger words. If he said ‘bitch’ she’d get turned on, and unable to cum unless he said the word ‘whore’. If he told her to do something by saying ‘I want you to’ before it, she’d want to do it straight away. The last one he’d shared with the girls, so that they’d have the same effect on all three of them, but he’d given each of the two girls different trigger words for being turned on and making them cum, so that he could control each of them without affecting the others. He tried to remember the words he’d given Haley.

“Do you like the way my dick feels, slut?” he grunted, and Haley’s moans reached a higher pitch and urgency. She reacted immediately to her trigger word, and was getting hornier.

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you? You love having a cock buried in your pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” said Haley, in a long drawn out guttural groan. Julie was still stroking her hair and gently holding her head closer to her breast, encouraging her to suckle some more. Julie’s other hand was busy between her legs. Dean called her a bitch, and smiled as he saw her fingers work even faster at her juicy, swollen cunt. Her pussy was freshly shaved, at Dean’s suggestion, and she was loving the feel of her fingers on the smooth skin.

Dean picked up the pace of fucking Haley, wanting to make her cum for the first time on a man’s dick. He leaned over and grabbed a handful of her hair to pull her head back.

“Slut,” he whispered in her ear, “slut, slut, slut, slut, slut.”

Haley was going berserk, bucking and writhing like a wild animal, moaning and screaming like a maniac. All that was running through her mind was the frantic, relentless desire, and the pleasure that she was feeling at Dean’s attention and penetration. He chanted her trigger word over and over again, keeping time with his thrusts into her drenched pussy. Finally he could feel his own orgasm brewing, and he waited until the last minute before saying the word that would rock Haley’s world, giving her a massive, life-changing orgasm.

“Cream.” he whispered. Haley screamed long and loud, like the roar of a wild cat, and Dean felt her squeeze down on him like a clamp as she came suddenly and violently. It pushed him over the edge, and he emptied his balls into her soaking cunt as he came. Julie sat up on the couch, and cradled Haley’s head to her breast, holding her as she had the biggest orgasm of her life, feeling proud of her youngest daughter.

Soon it was over, and both Dean and Haley collapsed to the floor, breathing hard and bodies shiny with sweat. As soon as he was able, Dean got to his feet.

“Julie, I want you to suck my dick.” he said, and Julie wasted no time getting into position on her knees in front of him. She didn’t hesitate taking his entire length all the way into her mouth, and moaned as she tasted Haley’s juices that coated it, as well as traces of blood from where he’d popped her cherry. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, wanting to know that she was pleasing her master. As she bobbed her head up and down on his cock, behind her Vanessa was helping her sister onto the couch, and the two sisters were kissing softly as Vanessa rubbed herself, kneeling on the couch to face her sister seated at one end.

“Slave.” said Dean, and Vanessa responded to her own trigger word, and her fingers sped up, rubbing her cunt.

Under Julie’s tender administrations, Dean was soon hard again.

“Vanessa, are you wet for me, slave?” he said. She moaned loudly as she moved her fingers even faster, trying desperately to find release. Haley was still making out with her, and reached out to fondle her sister’s breasts. Dean sat down on the couch, behind where Vanessa was on her knees. He saw that she was indeed very, very wet.

“You’re really turned on right now, aren’t you slave?” he said. She moaned some more. He loved teasing the girls like this, getting them more and more worked up before he even touched them. Having this kind of control over them was intoxicating. He’d always had fantasies of dominating a woman in bed, of being in control. But when he’d suggested the idea to any of his past girlfriends, they’d just sneered and shook their heads, so he’d always had to do without. Now he had three women under his complete control, to fulfill his every command and love every minute of it. The fact that it was a woman and her two daughters was another suppressed fantasy that he’d only ever entertained in the privacy of his own mind. Never did he ever think that it would ever come true.

He reached out and pushed Vanessa’s hand away from where she was furiously rubbing her flushed and soaking wet pussy. He ran his own fingers across it, and his fingers were drenched from just that small contact.

“Mmm, I bet you’re aching to cum, aren’t you slave?” he said, and he saw her writhe in the sudden increase of her arousal. “I want you to sit on my dick, slave. Fuck my cock until you cum.”

Within seconds Vanessa was off the couch, and standing in front of him, facing away from him. She leaned forward and lowered her plump, juicy rump over Dean’s raging erection. Dean held his cock in place with one hand, and helped guide Vanessa’s hips down with the other. When her steaming hot pussy found the head of his dick, she sat down on it instantly. It slipped in with no resistance whatsoever, she was so wet and ready for him, and she groaned as he filled her up completely. She planted her hands on his knees, and started pumping her ass up and down as fast as she could. Dean was enjoying the view she was offering of her ass as she bent down low.

Dean looked up to see both Haley and Julie watching the scene, both of them were fingering themselves with unbridled, shameless lust. Haley was still at the other end of the couch, legs spread wide, and staring at her sister’s ass moving up and down. Julie was sitting on the floor next to her, also with her legs spread and both hands between them.

Dean knew that Julie was a natural submissive, and loved to be dominated even without his suggestions. A thought crossed his mind, and his cock twitched inside Vanessa as it did.

“Haley, I think your bitch of a mother has been really naughty.” he said, and he heard Julie gasp as she heard her trigger word. “I think she needs to be punished, don’t you?”

Haley nodded absently, still riveted to the scene before her, but Dean saw Julie’s cheeks flush red.

“Haley, I want you to spank your mother. She’s been a dirty bitch, and she needs to be punished like the slut she is.” he said, carefully fitting in both of their trigger words. “I want you to treat her rough, and make her your bitch.”

Vanessa was still moving her ass as fast as she could, and the obscene, wet sound of her ass slapping against his hips was music to his ears as he watched Haley get up and grab her mother’s hair.

“Come here you bitch!” she snapped, and pulled Julie across the floor so that she was on her hands and knees, following her daughter. Haley pushed down on Julie’s back, forcing her face down onto the carpet, so that her ass was high up in the air.

Dean loved Julie’s ass. She was a heavy woman, not exactly fat, but just big and curvy, and her ass was impressive. Looking at it like this, on her knees and her face to the floor, it was so wide and huge that Dean wanted to slap it himself. Later, he told himself, you can do it later. Haley knelt down beside her mother’s ass, and wrapped one arm around Julie’s hips to hold her against her body. With the other hand, Haley reached out, and brought her open palm down sharply onto the luscious pale cheek. The sounds in the room were driving Dean crazy. The wet patter of Vanessa’s ass frantically moving up and down against him, the slap of Haley’s hand on Julie’s rump, and the mewling sounds of pain and pleasure coming from Julie. Dean admired Vanessa’s ass as it moved. It wasn’t as big as her mother’s but still nicely round and plump. He slapped it hard, getting a breathless gasp from Vanessa, who leaned forward more to grab her ankles as she moved even faster.

“Lust.” he said, and Vanessa’s second trigger word worked its magic as she suddenly came in the most violent and intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. It hurt his cock as she clenched her pussy so hard as she came, screamed wildly and loudly. Haley watched her as she paused in spanking Julie, blushing with arousal. As Vanessa’s orgasm faded, Dean pushed her away, and got up off the couch. He hadn’t cum yet, and right now he wanted one thing, and one thing only right now. He strode over to Julie, still on her knees facing away from him, and pushed Haley away and plunged his cock deep into her ass without any lead up or warning. His raging dick was already well lubricated from Vanessa’s cum and juices, so it slipped in easily, and the tight hole spasmed at the sudden, violent intrusion. Julie screamed, but they became moans as Dean started fucking her hard, holding on tightly to her hips, pulling her onto him. He slapped her ass with one hand, and reached forward to grab a fistful of her hair to pull her head back. This was by far Dean’s favorite position. It was the purest form of his dominance, and of her submission.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.” he muttered, chanting the word in time with his strokes. Julie was wailing and screaming loudly. She was overcome with lust and desire, overwhelmed with pleasure and arousal. She was screaming incoherently, unable to think as she felt wave after wave of pleasure rip through her body, emanating from Dean’s vicious penetration of her ass. Finally, when he felt that he was just seconds away from his own orgasm, he leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

“Whore.” he grunted, and her screams went up a whole octave, and she came suddenly and hard. Her ass clenched down on his dick, like Vanessa and Haley’s pussies had, and for the second time Dean came hard, spraying white, hot semen into Julie’s bowels. Jet after jet of his cum was squeezed from his dick, milked by Julie’s ass as her orgasm came in waves, ripping through her and making her quiver and tremble.

He pulled away and his dick popped out of her rubbery asshole. After all that Dean was very, very tired. He told the three of them to clean themselves up, and he got ready for bed. To his surprise, both Haley and Vanessa started to lick Julie’s asshole at the same time, eagerly lapping up the drooling trail of semen that Dean had left behind. He hadn’t told them to do that.

Dean showered, washing off the sweat and cum, and letting himself relax after a long, full day. It was hard to believe that it hadn’t even been 24 hours since he’d met Julie at the supermarket, but now he’d taken her family under his sway. Once he dried himself off and went to Julie’s bedroom, he saw that the three of them had already made themselves comfortable in the bed. With a smile Dean crawled into bed with them, and all four of them snuggled close together as they all drifted off to sleep.

Talk about a dream come true, Dean thought with a smile.

Ginny awoke to the smells of Earl Grey tea and hot cakes filling her nostrils. She was in a canopied bed and never felt so comfortable, warm, and was enveloped in goose down. The maid set down the teapot, arranged a few items on the tray and left the dark room. A glimmer of light shone through the heavy curtains and Ginny stared at the steam pouring upwards from the teacup, catching a single particle of dust in the morning light. She remembered the previous evening’s events slowly, getting dressed, the gift, the essay reading, her confession, running up the stairs, but it was blank after that. Mason finally stood from a chair and spoke up, pulling the curtains aside, nearly blinding Ginny with the light that forced its way upon her.

“You have two hours to ready yourself. I took the liberty of getting your items brought here, your implements of discipline, your restraints, and toys. I found nothing of value in your closet and spoke with your father,” he said.

“You spoke with my father?”

“Yes. I wanted to be sure he was comfortable with my presence on the property and with my business with you,” he said.

“Well what did he say?” she asked.

“He’s coming around. I think he understands I don’t want to steal you from him.” Ginny sat quietly looking down. Mason stared at her momentarily. “As I was saying, we will have a training session in two hours. I would eat soon. You don’t want to be hungry; you don’t want a full stomach either. I expect total cleanliness, inside and out when I arrive at,” Mason looked at his watch, “10:35. Be nude, your face and hair clean, no cosmetics. And that collar is waterproof.” Ginny ran her fingers over the mesh. “Clear?”

“But make up makes me feel sexy,” she said.

“I don’t want you to feel sexy. I want you to feel submissive.” He waited for his words to take their effect and left the room. After eating in bed Ginny explored the room finding an empty closet, empty drawers, windows which wouldn’t open enough for her to climb out. She entered the adjoining bathroom to find it much better supplied with enema bags, her set of graduated crystal plugs, plush towels, brushes for teeth, hair, nails, polish remover, everything she might need and she began to realize just how much work nudity really was.

She cleaned herself as best she could and when Mason entered she was kneeling on the floor, head down, hair dripping unscented water down her torso and temples. He raised her to her feet by means of a short leash to her collar and quickly affixed the fetters Ginny purchased. An implement of bondage. A compliment to the collar, in reddened leather. Ginny found them in a recessed corner of the store and although new, they were supremely crafted and had the feel of being old and weathered, hand stitched, and broken in. Primed for use. They felt somehow hers when she first picked them up and she cringed later when the checker scanned them, seeing their price. Mason pulled her out of the room and down a long hallway lined with portraits, busts in strange metals, and carpeted with rugs of foreign designs and exotic colors. She kept her eyes pointed down however. She felt different. Calm. She felt there was no other way she ought to be but nude, gaze down, leash leading to Mason’s hand. He led her into another room which only had three cabinets and a horizontal wrought iron rod hanging above a circular rug and led her to a bin.

“Each cabinet is for a different purpose. You have five minutes to silently separate your items. I will decide their final placement after we… play.” Ginny wanted desperately to tell him all the things she thought about when she purchased each item, how she had asked the sales people for help, how she had thought of him, but he said silently. Silently. She learned in the store not to second guess him and her task was complete within the alotted time. Pleased with something Mason kissed Ginny, caressing her chin, her shoulders, the small of her back. He looked at her selections and stroked his hair finally grabbing Ginny by the wrist and pulling her under the rod which hung about four feet above her head. He closed the door and behind it was a crank, which he turned until the rod lowered and he cuffed Ginny to it.

Walking up to the middle cabinet he said, “Flogger, whip, paddle…”

“Those are-”

“Shush!” he snapped. “It’s obvious what you think. We’ll see what they really are.” He cranked the rod above her so she was standing upright flat on her feet but her arms were erect. “I think the first part of our session will focus on this cabinet here. While I myself am not prone to use such implements for punishment, I have been trained to use them for other measures. Let’s see if you change your mind about your obvious assumptions.” Ginny wanted desperately to protest as Mason toyed with her but she knew he wanted her quiet. He pulled out the kangaroo flogger and walked around her, swinging the falls, occasionally tapping her, brushing her, awakening her entire body, her sex, her belly. Her nipples and ass.

He started tapping harder, tapping more frequently, swinging each stroke before the previous declined in intensity for Ginny. Her head leaned into her arm, her toes squirmed. There was an unscheduled exhale but for the most part Ginny maintained her entirely unspoken oath of silence. Tap. Tapping. The taps increased in intensity until Mason stopped walking around her and focused his attention on her ass, picking up stokes faster with each swing, reddening her cheeks on her rear and moistening her brow until it all stopped at once. He stepped into her and brushed her hair aside literally breathing down her neck, running his hands along the hairless, warm red skin of her ass which only leaned out to him, wanting him to continue, but he walked away.

She heard him by the door and soon felt the rod being cranked higher until she was on her toes, straining to be somewhat comfortable. He flogged her harder and she swung in the air, completely out of control of her movements, her arms wriggling back and forth toes on their tips, feet arched at maximum stretch. He hit her once, hard and an unrehearsed, unexpected cry escaped Ginny’s lungs and an unexpected, “Yes,” escaped Masons. This was most certainly the voracity at which Ginny felt most stimmulated but the force with which Mason had to wail at her with his flogger began to tire his arm and finally, after a noisy period of time he returned the flogger to the cabinet and released another lever from the crank, dropping Ginny to the floor on all fours, head down not daring to look between the strands of now dried amber hair.

Before long she felt her ankles being cuffed roughly to hooks protruding up through the rug; the rod was pinned down and her neck was clipped to the rod. From this position, ass in the air, legs spread, she didn’t see Mason get the paddle from the same cabinet and slipped on a vibrating glove. Kneeling silently behind her he slapped her with his bare hand and the smack reverberated out the room and down the long hallway. The novelty of the sensation shocked Ginny and she cried out with every ounce in her lungs. Mason began tapping her with the paddle lightly on her already reddened ass, increasing in intensity as he slowly massaged her with his gloved hand, the vibrations from which were excrutiatingly painful on her rear.

The glove itself was invented by a Swiss woman decades ago. She was a sexual servant of the lowest rank, with no rights, the most submissive of women. It was rumored that she was one of the original women from Washington DC to produce a child from her own ejaculate. There were no contracts back then, not even for married couples, and the men were still recovering from the Great War. She was a test subject in a laboratory and became attached to a scientist who allowed her to experiment in his workspace. She wasn’t allowed to let her hands touch her pussy, so she designed a rudimentary rubber glove with pulsing beads. Her owner was so pleased with her resoursefulness he allowed her to use it. It was adapted over the years to have veins of lubricant and multiple speeds and variations, all controlled by the fingertips and all hidden in a seemingly inconspicous latex glove.

Mason’s gloved hand currently wandered around to the front of Ginny’s pussy and teased the piercing she got for him their first day together. His vibrating hand moved back and forth from her moistening pussy to an always freshly paddled ass. Pain was always coupled with pleasure and neither ever seemed to last long enough until Ginny felt his bare finger wandering near her ass, pressing into it, stretching her. She heard the sound of Masons zipper and before she knew it her ass was being used for his needs. Ginny immediately took the signal to relax and her entire body slumped save for her rear, which remained in the air. He paused paddling her as he slipped fingers into her gaping ass, enjoying the vibrations himself and lubricating his entrance. He watched his bulbous head stretch her opening as it moved almost all the way out and slid further in with each thrust until he was fucking her so hard he could barely here the faint noise above the resumed paddling, vibrating and slapping flesh. It was a strange noise until Mason was able to discern a simple and elongated, “Ohhhh,” driveling from Ginny’s lips.

His hands remained firmly deligated to her groin on one side and to paddling her rear on the other. Ginny felt as if she couldn’t take any more paddling, as if she’d had enough, as if all of this, this bondage, this ass fucking, this stimmulation, and especially this paddling was too much and she began to hollar out as if she regretted everything she had done up to that point, as if she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. But suddenly there was peace. Suddenly she felt a wave of calm and all she could hear was the tap-tap-tapping of the paddle, and the she could feel the cock in her ass. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the vibrating sensation on her clit. Awareness and calm turned into peak and climax as she came, shaking in her restraints, muscles twitching, voice cracking as she hollared. Her contractions slightly tightened her everywhere and Mason came too, filling for the first time the first vessel that ever purported to be his and his alone.

As Mason sat back onto his heels his hand passed over Ginny’s pussy and he examined the model of glove she chose. He noticed something very strange. There was no ejaculate. He inspected Ginny and found none.

“How do you feel right now Ginny?” he asked.

“I… There’s no where else I’d rather be. No way I would rather be,” she responded dreamily. She clearly came. She was clearly submissive. Mason thought about her essay, and what she said about her parents. It must all be true. That collar has to stay on at all costs. Mason asked another pressing question in hopes of revealing more information about Ginny’s origins and sensibilities.

“Tell me, do you still think all those items belong in the pleasure cabinet?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she gasped. “But maybe if you use that glove a little more and we’ll have to make a torture cabinet,” she smiled.

“Dinner is in three hours,” he said having no patience for joking, his mind spinning in circles about this novelty of a woman he’s captured. He gently unclasped her. “Why don’t you take a nap?” He fastened her leash, checking its security and walked her back to her room. “Your room has been filled with clothes from Georgian. Dress formally for dinner. I expect you there at eight.” As Mason left Ginny already fell backwards onto the down of the bed, her fingers, unable to wander downwards, found her collar. She ran to the full length mirror at the corner of the room and admired herself in it. Mason mentioned a special collar. Was this the one? It seemed plain from afar, but as she neared her nude reflection its details became more visible. The metalsmithing was finely wrought, creating an intricate lace-like pattern of gold and black, but mostly red. It appeared this red metal was neither painted nor stained, but was somehow naturally red, though Ginny brushed this thought aside as no metal she knew of was red. She remembered Mason’s words. She should nap.

When she awoke she found a glass of water and a bowl of grapes that tasted like nothing she’d ever had. They looked like regular grapes, but tasted of flowers. She opened the previously empty closet and found it full of garments more foreign than the grapes. There were dresses and gowns, skirts and bras, but they were all sewn in several places with boning, attached by fine metal chains bejeweled with precious stones in strategic placements. There were completely sheer fabrics and there was fur. But nothing broke Mason’s dress code and everything matched her collar, bringing out the natural tones of her eyes, skin, and hair. There were several pairs of shoes in her size, all seemingly hand made from various stained leathers and skins.

Ginny showered again, cleaning herself thouroughly and found even more supplies than before, including a professional makeup tower. She readied herself quickly and dressed in a fully boned corset bra made of heavy cotton and a high waisted full length burgundy skirt that appeared to be made out of gold lamé, but was smooth as silk. It was completely sheer save for a strip in front of her sex leading to a high slit and another black strip down the back.

When she entered the dining room it was silent save for a quiet conversation between Mason and an older gentleman who appeared to be his father. Upon seeing her Mason stood up immediately, as did his father.

“I want you to meet my father,” said Mason, introducing her to Mr. Tearing, owner of a series of nightclubs, a line of S&M furniture, and she didn’t know what other enterprises but they must have been extensive to pay for such a home.

“Good evening Mr. Tearing,” she said.

“Don’t be silly. Jonathan will do just fine,” he said kissing the back of her hand. “This is my first concubine Martha.” Martha gave Ginny a dignified nod as her eyes turned downwards. “This is Paris, Mason’s younger brother.” Paris didn’t budge from his conversation with a young girl. “And Anastasia, my first daughter with my second concubine,” he finished. Upon hearing her name Anastasia jumped from her conversation and walked decisively over to Ginny.

“You can call me Anastasia,” she said sticking out her hand as if she wanted Ginny to kiss it. Ginny shook it awkwardly and sat down only to have Anastasia turn her bare back and beaded ass to her.

“Hi Mason darling,” Anastasia flirted hopping in his lap, curling her fingers under his chin. “Have you taken under consideration that itch I had?” Mason was pleased to ride along for this conversation.

“Why yes I have. You need only wait a few moments longer dear Ana,” he said. Ginny felt an ice cold tinge of jealousy but shook it off. Not that brat, she thought. Dinner passed awkwardly, with Jonathan asking lively questions of Ginny and no one else seeming to take an interest. Paris and Ana seemed engrossed in familial gossip between themselves and Martha silently and obediently agreed with Jonathan’s comments and approved of his rather eccentric gesticulations and vocal intonations. Mr. Tearing seemed very curious about Ginny’s father’s business, especially his furniture making entrepreneurship, but Ginny knew very little about it as her father was quite secretive about his doings. Often Ginny was left searching for an answer and Mason jumped to her rescue. After dinner Ginny was exhausted and Mason put her to bed.

“Where will you sleep?” she asked him, yawning.

“I will sleep in my building across the back yard. But first I have some business to attend to at the club,” he said on his way out. Ginny was already asleep. Mason took a great deal of time readying himself for the club. He showered, got his hair trimmed, selected clothing with great care. He didn’t know how things would turn out, how she would receive him. Before long it was time to go. He knew she would be waiting for him, as he left precise instructions.

If one didn’t truly know him as a Master, know his intentions, his heart and soul, upon entering the room he would leave upon a submissive woman the distinct impression that they were in the presence of something abundantly sinister. Like the fresh smell of death, he brought with him an all encompassing, room filling ambiance, drizzling chills on submissive women’s necks, and raising the brows of other Masters, who stepped aside and either feared him or longed to know his ‘secret.’

Tonight Ana waited for him at the club with bated breath. She knelt upstairs in a concrete room with nothing but a few looming implements hanging over her on the walls. She knelt in the room for hours as Mason primped himself. She was naked save for fetters, patrons of the club could peek in on her and watch her face contort from a look of pride to a mixed expression of “chin up” to blatantly obvious pain in her knees and back, to a trance like state. Finally Mason came in and without closing the door walked directly up to Ana and gripped her by the neck, lifting her to her feet. She fumbled in a futile effort with his forearms, choking, grasping at the floor with her toes until she was set down but not loosened completely. A small crowd gathered at the doorway and she looked up at him from beneath raven strands of hair, arching her back, pressing her tits forward.

“I’m going to give you what you’ve been asking for so,” he subtly took in the smell of her tresses, “vociferously.” Ana shuddered. He spread her against the wall roughly and attached her fetters to hooks. She heard his footsteps on the floor behind her as he pulled something off the wall and slipped on a pair of gloves. Whack! He flogged her. Whack! With enough time in between impact for her to feel the entirety of the force and never roll into oblivion.

“Of all people, why do you want to be considered?” he asked, hitting her, harder this time, and the next. She didn’t answer. Mason hung the flogger up and did what he called ‘checking his subject.’ If his slave, or applicant was too wet, his interrogation techniques were not working. Crassly he shoved his fingers into her cunt running them up her slit and in her ass. She was afraid of this. She didn’t want him to know she was at the peak of her accomplishments as a concubine in training and so was quite wet. Mason didn’t want her to know this didn’t impress him. She didn’t want him to stop. And he didn’t.

He pulled the cane off the wall and landed one splotchy splat to her meaty mound, bringing a reddened flush to her already glowing face. He left mark after mark, holding her torso firm and caning her hard, leaving mark that will only make the men downstairs want to fuck her more. Goddammit, she likes this too, and he stuck his fingers in her pussy again, scooping up as much fluid as he could, and shoving it in her mouth, filling her with her own tastes and smells, the indisputable truth that she’s everything her sibblings call her. Mason turned her around. He clamped her nipples with clothes pins and pulled out the whip, barely caressing her nipples with it.

“I haven’t gotten an answer out of you.” The whip grazed until it popped the clamps off. He pulled at her nipples, scratched them. He bound her, fucked her face, suspended her, cut her, brought in a cage for three days, coming and going between training sessions with Ginny and interrogation sessions with Ana. Ana refused to eat and Mason refused to give in. Only cruelty would do for his sister. Until finally she said, “I love you. I don’t want there to be anyone else. I don’t like her. I want to be the first.”

“That simply can’t be,” he said unlocking the cage and walking away. She sat in the cage for hours dumbstruck, afraid to leave the confines of his bondage. It was the only desire she knew. Soon the crowd grew tired of watching her and she crawled out and dressed herself. Mason returned home to find his father holding Ginny’s essay, sitting in an easy chair, drinking a scotch.

Chapter 3

The next day she arrived at ten, just in time to greet the postman as he deposited, what appeared to be, two bills through the letter box. She knew the postman; he was a sidesman at the church, a friend of her fathers and the font of much of the local gossip.

“Morning Jane. I see that Jack has received his call-up papers. Shouldn’t be long before he’s posted.”

“Good Morning Mr. Barrowclough.”

She finished the conversation abruptly and knocked on the door. Barrowclough was a nosey bugger and anything anyone said to him was sure to find its way around the town. He probably suspected that something was going on between Jack and her and she wasn’t going to give him any ammunition.

She knocked on the door and waited for Jack to appear, aware that Barrowclough was watching her intently from the front gate and hoping that Jack was dressed respectably.

Jack opened the door, an ear to ear smile on his face.

“Sorry I’m late Jack. Mum asked me to do some cleaning, although I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job… for some reason I was slightly rushed.”

Nothing more was said until they were undressed and in his bed. As she took her bra off she rubbed under her tits. Her bra was too tight and irritated her; but bras required clothing coupons and she had been forced to wear one she had first worn at school when, although she found it difficult to believe, her tits were even smaller than now. She looked at him and decided she had to tell him what she felt; after all, they only had two more days.

“Jack, I enjoyed yesterday but it could have been better if you’d paid more attention to me and what I was feeling. Having a big cock is all right, but it’s not always the size of your weapon but how you wield it.”

He didn’t understand; she had come; he had come – what more did she expect?

“Jack, you’ve got to understand. A woman no, not a woman, me ..I … expects her lover to pay attention to her. I don’t mean just playing with her tits and cunt; I mean paying attention to what she’s feeling. Different women re-act differently and you’re going to have to learn how to understand their feelings and respond to them. Yesterday, for example, once you’d decided you’d played with me long enough, you just fucked me. I could tell you had no idea where I was or whether I liked what you were doing. Mostly I did; but it would have been much better if you’d thought about me, not just yourself.”

Once again it was a prepared speech – but she meant it. Last night was the first time she had made love but she had talked to her friend from work about sex many times and had received clear advice. Sex was for both parties to enjoy. If she had sex and didn’t enjoy it, she should either stop fucking the man or train him to do it properly. Jack needed training and she was going to make it her goal to train him.

He didn’t know what to say. He could apologise; but it didn’t seem she wanted him to do that. He could try to change; but he didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

“Jack, I’m going to show you.” He waited. “Jack, I don’t mean I’m going to hold your hand or write it on the board. I want you to make love to me and when, or if, I think you’re forgetting me, then I’ll tell you.”

To Jack, it sounded like an examination and too clinical but he wanted her and, if that meant being examined, he was prepared to put up with it.

She could see he hadn’t really understood and she would have to show him. She reached for his cock, which, by now, had become flaccid and started to wank him. It took her longer than usual to make it erect.

“Relax Jack; it’s all right.” He was trying to relax but it wasn’t easy. “You can play with me.” She offered her nipple to him.

He looked at her nipple; God, it was beautiful. He bent his head and started to suck; gently at first, as he remembered her admonition, and then more aggressively, as he started to become excited. She started to respond; she could feel her cunt becoming wetter. She reached down and caressed his balls; he sucked harder.

“You’d better put something on.” He reached over his bedside table, took out a johnny and handed it to Jane. She slipped it on; once again wondering whether it would fit. Once it was on she pushed him onto his back and mounted him; working her cunt slowly down onto his cock.

She started to ride him, as the G.I.’s would say, ‘cowgirl fashion’. As with all their lovemaking to date, it was the first time she had done it, but it didn’t take her very long to get into a rhythm. He started to move in concert with her; responding to her thrusts. She was enjoying it; dictating the pace turned her on. She grabbed her tits and started to play with them and, as she became more excited, she started to squeeze them between her fingers and palms and then to pull and twist the nipples. He was watching her and becoming excited by her assault on her tits. He wanted to do it; he wanted to inflict whatever pain she must be feeling. Then she stopped, climbed off him and lay on her back; leaving Jack to wonder what he had done wrong.

“Jack, make love to me.”

He mounted her; slipping more easily into her, by now, slick, cunt. He preferred it like this. It made him feel powerful; now he was in charge. He started to fuck her and she responded. It didn’t take him long to feel the beginning of his climax and, as he did, he started to thrust harder. He was enjoying it; he could feel the spunk starting to rise in his balls.

“Jack, slow down. You aren’t making love to me any more; you’re just fucking me. Am I coming? Can you tell?” He thought for a moment; it looked like she was.

“I think so.”

“Jack, you’re wrong. I am excited but, if you keep this up, you’ll come and I won’t. Jack slow down; it’s not a race. Kiss me; play with my nipples or my clit. I need you to pay a little more attention to me.”

He leant over and kissed her nipple and then bit it ….hard. She yelped and he felt her cunt muscles tighten. He bit it again with the same result. He kissed her neck with little feathery kisses which caused her to gasp and hitch her legs around his thighs. She ground her cunt into his cock and then started to fuck him. He let her do it; enjoying the sensation. She was good at it – which surprised him since she had obviously been a virgin. It felt like her cunt was milking him; drawing the spunk out of his balls but he had to fuck her; he needed to come and while the milking was enjoyable, he needed to drive the spunk out of his balls and the only way he could do that was to fuck her and to fuck her as hard as he could.

They fucked many times after that, but the sensations they both felt from their climaxes were never repeated. As he started to come he felt the need to abuse her. He raised up from her body and pinched her nipples and slapped her tits. She gasped and gripped his shoulders. He removed his cock, flipped her over onto her stomach and slapped her repeatedly until her bum was a bright red. He mounted her doggy style. They fucked again; from time to time he stopped and slapped her again and reached under her body to pull on her nipples. The more he hit her, the more she responded, moaning and pushing back against his cock. As he came, he grabbed her hair and pulled her up until her hands were off the bed and drove as hard as he could. It was enough; he came and she came.

He let go of her hair and very gently stroked her bum. She moaned, turned her head and smiled at him. Still turned towards him, she reached back awkwardly and stroked the side of his body; using touch to tell him what she felt.

She was happy; she was pleased she had spoken to him; he had thought about her; he had taken his cue and satisfied her fantasies. He was happy; he had realised he liked hurting her; that it excited him and had intensified his climax. Her response had been his permit. He wanted to abuse her body and he had.

On the Monday evening his mother came back and brought an end to their fucking. Two weeks later on the twenty-second of May, 1941 and just over eleven months after his eighteenth birthday, he received a buff envelope containing a letter ordering him to report to an Air Crew Recruiting Centre in Staffordshire. It was here his RAF career started.

Chapter 4

The recruiting centre was a rude awakening. Everyone, from the lowest erk to those destined to be pilots, had to pass through a recruiting centre and all were treated the same. The inevitable medical; at which, in addition to being asked to cough for the third time, he was inoculated against, what appeared to be, every disease known to man was followed by the regulation haircut using clippers only and ninety seconds per man; and, finally, by kitting out. By the end of the first day, he was exhausted but pleased by the knowledge he had been passed fit for service once again.

For the next four weeks he spent two to three hours a day learning the arcane art of square-bashing followed by two hours of physical training. Why a pilot needed to be able to run six miles and learn to march in step was unfathomable. The only breaks to the monotony were evening trips to one of the local pubs and the occasional visit to the station cinema. Later, when asked about the experience by friends, he described it as having been ‘mainly boring and, occasionally, degrading’; but he had passed and the next step had to include flying.

When war was declared the RAF had been ill-prepared and facing a shortage of planes, airfields and men. Expanded manufacturing both at home and abroad had started to resolve the plane shortage, while a concerted push in airfield construction had increased significantly the number of airfields. Conscription had solved part of the man-power problem but the conscripts had to be housed while they were training and, since there were few RAF facilities available, where better to house them than seaside resorts, with their numerous boarding houses and public facilities.

His posting was to the Initial Training Wing at RAF Blackpool located in the seaside resort of the same name on the north-west coast of Lancashire and some forty-five miles from his home. Up to that time he had been in the RAF for four weeks and none of his training had been even remotely connected with flying but he could console himself with the knowledge that, if he had to join the army, while not combat trained, he was fit certainly fit enough.

If he had expected flying training at RAF Blackpool, he was to be rudely disappointed. He received aircrew training, but it was flight rather than flying training. There were academic courses, covering the principles of flight, navigation, aircraft recognition, Morse code and other, peripheral subjects such as elements of service law. He studied hard, harder than he had at school; determined at this stage not to let the opportunity to be a pilot escape him. The rest of the time was spent on further sessions of square bashing and physical training, during which he marched up and down, trained on the beach and went on route marches and cross-country runs for three to four hours every day. The only breaks in the tedium were cricket and football games against local and other armed forces teams. It was during one of these games that his RAF career suffered a severe set-back.

An accomplished wing-half who had played for his town side; Jack was playing against an army team when he had gone in for a tackle with the opposing centre forward. A former Scottish professional, the forward had gone over the ball; breaking Jack’s leg in two places. He had been taken to the local hospital where the leg had been set and put into traction. After a two week stay, during which he was visited by his mother, sister and Jane, he was returned on crutches and without ceremony to the camp to complete his course.

Jack had looked forward to the end of his ITW posting, not just to escape from the physical training routine but because he knew Elementary Flying Training which was the next step would be his first real taste of flying. Breaking his leg put his pilot training into limbo; he had passed ITW but knew he would not be allowed to move on to flying training until his leg had healed.

After a two week wait, during which the RAF decided what to do with him, followed by a two week leave, he was transferred, in late September 1941, to RAF Fulnetby, a bomber command station located some ten miles east of Lincoln, as a ‘spare bod’.

As a recruit with no trade, no post-secondary education and a broken leg, he proved difficult to place. In the end he was seconded to assist in the accounting section, although for the life of him he couldn’t understand why as he had only just scraped a pass in his final maths exams. His accounting career lasted seven month and, by the end of his stay, he was bored stiff, had recovered from his broken leg and had finally managed to understand the difference between debits and credits, although he was still confused when applying the concepts to asset and liability accounts.

At the end May, 1942, he got the news he was waiting for; he was being transferred to air crew training but, rather than receiving it in England, he was to be posted to Canada under the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan; accompanying the posting was a seven day, embarkation-leave pass.

When he arrived home late on the Friday evening, Jane was waiting at his parent’s house. As usual his mother fussed around him offering tea and food but, what he really wanted, was Jane. They sat and talked for almost two hours waiting for his mother to go to bed. When, at just after midnight, she finally said goodnight, she hadn’t reached the top of the stairs before he had his hands on Jane’s tits. Ten minutes later they were fucking; the first time they’d done it with a parent in the house. They tried to be quiet but, in spite of his best efforts to suppress her usual scream as she came, he was certain, unless his mother was asleep, she must have heard her. Nothing was said the next morning at breakfast, but he had had the impression his mother had heard and didn’t know whether to challenge him about it.

In the final seven days they made love every time and everywhere they could and almost oblivious to the risk they would be caught.

They made love in the shed among the geraniums. He sat her on the edge of the potting bench with her skirt on but minus her knickers, knelt down before her and drank in the smell of her cunt, played with her clit, licked her to a climax and followed it by taking her; bent over, with her elbows on the bench. When they’d finished she ran to the house waving her knickers at him and laughing.

At her suggestion they made love in the conservatory. The shrubs along the north wall offered some protection from prying eyes, but he was sure they could be seen from the next-door neighbours’ bedroom. When she had suggested it, he had wondered whether she had a streak of exhibitionism in her; a suspicion which was confirmed when, after they’d finished fucking, she stood up, turned and faced the neighbours’ house, posed like a showgirl from the Follies Begère, with legs slightly crossed, one arm in the air and the other on her thigh and then ambled back, naked, into the kitchen.

They made love at her house, in her parent’s bed. Her parents had gone out on the Sunday evening and, almost as soon as they’d left, she had disappeared upstairs. A minute later she called to him,

“Jack, come upstairs will you.” He had gone up, suspecting she was planning something. “I’m in here.” Her voice came from her parent’s bedroom. He opened the door to see her naked lying on the bed; fondling her tits and playing with her cunt.

“Come on Jack, fuck me.” It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse and he fucked her. He had enjoyed it, but, from her reaction; the way she had scraped his back with her nails and screamed as she came she had obviously enjoyed it more than him; fucking in her parent’s bed had excited her.

Their final fuck was bare-back. She had been apprehensive but there was no alternative. They had run out of protection and, in the end, she had finally agreed. It turned Jack on; he loved the feel of her slick cunt on his cock and, when he started to come, he felt the urge to leave it in her; to fill her with his spunk; to spray her womb. Just as he came he pulled out; spraying his spunk over the entrance to her cunt and across her bum. She hadn’t come and, when she felt him pull out, she reached down, inserted two fingers into her cunt and finger-fucked herself until she came.

When they said goodbye at the railway station, they said nothing about the future. She knew he would be gone for at least six months, but had no worries. Over the previous fifteen months she had made him hers; she had taught him how to satisfy most of her fantasies and couldn’t imagine anyone taking him from her. She would miss his cock – the sheer size of it most of all — but she knew how to please herself and, if her hairbrush wasn’t the size of Jack’s cock, it was a reasonable short-term substitute.

He was only looking forward. He loved Jane, but Canada and flying were his future and, at this moment, Jane and sex occupied only a small part of his world.

Chapter 5

The troopship left Gourock two hours before sun-down, ensuring it was dark for most of the time it was close to Scottish Coast and, theoretically, improving its chances of avoiding the German submarines lurking off the Clyde. The S.S. Aquitania was a converted passenger liner, capable of twenty-four knots and far faster than any U-boat, either above or below the surface. She sailed alone, using her speed to avoid German torpedoes.

They were at sea five days; five days during which Jack realised why he hadn’t volunteered for the navy. The sea was rough almost all of the way across and, for early summer, the weather was abysmal; starting with heavy rain, followed by cool weather as they sailed close to Iceland and, as they approached Newfoundland, by more heavy rain. The accommodation and food were terrible, even for the officers. He had shared a cabin which, in peacetime, had accommodated two people with five other, like him, very junior, RAF officers; all of them in cramped bunk beds. The food was barely edible, nowhere near as good as the food in the officer’s mess at Fulnetby; which was a surprise, since the ship must have had access in Canada to supplies which were not available in Britain. Perhaps, he thought, all the best cooks had volunteered for the RAF.

The ship docked in Halifax, just as a convoy was waiting to set sail for Britain. The difference in size and the variety of the ships was amazing. Some were rust-buckets of just a few thousand tons, while others, particularly the oil tankers, were relatively large and well maintained. He knew, whatever their pedigree and ownership, they were a vital cog in the allied war machine, without which the war could not be won.

Disembarkation was a slow process. The ship held over 4,000 forces personnel which on this occasion were mainly airmen. Officers were allowed off first and directed to a NAAFI where they were fed and watered by mostly older, motherly women. Once fed, they were directed to a platform to await the arrival of the trains which were to take them to the RAF’s No. 31 personnel depot in Moncton, New Brunswick; a reception centre for members of the RAF moving to and from Canada and the USA. Most were going west to the Prairies, but Jack and a few others were going to locations in Ontario and the USA.

The wait was interminable. It took four hours for his train to arrive, during which he wondered if being allowed to disembark first was an advantage. There was nothing to do on the platform; at least the men who were still on the ship could use the ship’s facilities, while he was forced to stare at the walls or read a six-day old copy of the Manchester Guardian.

Chapter 6

This is just before the half way point in the story. If you want the complete version you may e-mail me and I will forward it as a Word document.

That night, after Jack left, Sophie lay in bed and cried. She wanted Jack. She wanted to make love to him, but Iain’s ghost was making in impossible for her to react to his lovemaking. Iain had blighted her life, turning her from a happy girl into a desperately unhappy wife.

She had been brought up in a happy, moderately wealthy family with a place in local society. She had done well at school and, when she was accepted at the University of Toronto, she had thought that life couldn’t have been better. She was away from home; amongst people of her own age and doing, more or less, what she wanted. She had enjoyed her first year but it was during that year she had made a decision which she had regretted ever since.

It was at the 1914 Christmas Ball she had met her future husband. Iain was in his third year studying mechanical engineering and while he wasn’t handsome, he was good looking, articulate, clever and obviously well-off. She had danced with him for most of the evening and, when the dance finished, he had asked her out and she had accepted.

She had been on dates before, but they had been with schoolboys; Iain was her first man. At first she had been impressed. Iain was attentive and polished and introduced her to a lifestyle, including upscale restaurants and parties, she would never have been able to enjoy without his help. If she was surprised by anything it was the lack of sex in their relationship. When she had started university she was a virgin and sexually naïve but had quickly been introduced to the mysteries of sex by Jenny, her room-mate, who was sleeping with her boy-friend and who enjoyed describing her sex life in graphic detail.

By the end of the school year it had become readily apparent to her that she was far more knowledgeable about sex than him and almost all she knew she had come from Jenny. She was curious about sex and had considered making the first approach but, constrained by her upbringing, had rejected the notion as being inappropriate and possibly demeaning to Iain.

It was in her second year she had started to worry where their courtship was leading, in part due to comments from her room-mate and, in part, due to her misgivings about Iain. Jenny had a prurient interest in sex, which included Sophie’s sex life, and couldn’t believe they hadn’t, at the minimum, engaged in something she referred to as ‘getting each other off’. It appeared she and her boyfriend practiced it regularly in both its manual and oral form and, almost exclusively, when she was at her most fertile; or as she had called it; ‘baby ready’.

When she had listened to Jenny describing her sexual escapades, it had excited her. Jenny made sex sound wonderful although, she had to admit, she could have made a description of someone peeling an orange an erotic act. She also realised Jenny’s relationship with Tom was unconventional, at odds with the attitude of her mother and her friends to whom sex was an unmentionable act to be completed in the dark, even slightly frightening to a proper, small town girl like her but still far more interesting than her relationship with Iain.

She remembered the time when she’d had difficulty understanding the nuances of oral sex for a woman and, when she had asked Jenny to explain it, how she had removed her underclothes and given her a detailed description of her vagina, pointing out how and what the man did, followed by a description of how a woman could satisfy herself if she were on their own. When Sophie asked about satisfying a man orally, Jenny had suggested the next time her boyfriend was over and Sophie was there she would show her and, if she wanted, she could practice on him. She had said ‘no thanks’, but was excited by the thought and wondered what it would be like.

By the end of the fall semester of her second year she had come to realise Iain was totally unadventurous and probably a virgin. They were still going out at least twice a month but it had become totally predictable. She understood she was still too young to drink and they couldn’t go to a public bar. She also understood that the occasional parties, which made life with Iain bearable, didn’t take place every week, but she needed something more exciting than their regular routine of dancing at one of the hotels and watching movies at the Bay Theatre. In spite of her mis-givings she continued to date him for the rest of the school year knowing that he was due to graduate and that his graduation would provide an opportunity and excuse, if she wanted, for her to end the relationship.

Iain graduated in June 1916 and promptly announced he had volunteered with the 120th Battalion and would be leaving for France by the end of July. It had upset her, not because she was concerned that he was joining the army – she had known he would probably be conscripted when he graduated – but because she had been his girlfriend for two years and, yet, he hadn’t seen fit to discuss the matter with her. .

The week before he left for France, Iain had appeared at her parent’s house complete with engagement ring and asked her to marry him. She had wanted to refuse him. She didn’t love him. She had tolerated the repetitive and often boring dances and trips to the cinema but she could not ignore his total lack of interest in her sexually. She had wanted to find out something about sex – perhaps not sexual intercourse – but something along the lines Jenny had shown her. Iain had not shown the slightest interest in her other than the occasion when, at her prompting, he had fondled her breasts and she couldn’t believe that he would change in the future. In spite of her misgivings she had accepted him. They had been courting for almost two years, her parents thought he was a good match but, most of all, she was aware he was going to war to fight for his country and might die. How could she be ungrateful and reject him?

The night before he left for France they went to a dance at the King Edward Hotel in Toronto. It was the summer; she was living at home and, as she wanted to go shopping, she arranged to stay in Toronto for the weekend at the home of a university friend. As the dance was ending Iain told her he had booked a room in the hotel and wanted her to stay the night with him. She was astonished by his suggestion as not once in the last two years he had ever once suggested they make love and now, at the last minute, he wanted her to sleep with him.

Sophie had been unsure what she wanted to do; she knew she didn’t love him, but they were engaged and sometime or other they would have to make love. She rang her friend and told her she had been offered a ride and was going home and then went with him to the hotel where he registered them as Mr. and Mrs. I. Smith. The hotel, named appropriately after the noted philanderer Edward Vll, and the room were magnificent, but the sex was a disaster.

It was clear to her from the start that Iain had no idea what to do and while she possessed no practical experience she had, at least, received the benefit of Jenny’s expertise. They made love twice that night; both times he reached his climax within what seemed to her to be less than a minute and, all the time he was making love, he had paid very little attention to her. Jenny’s descriptions of sex had made it seem wonderful; Iain met none of her expectations. From the way Jenny had described it, she had expected him to be gentle; to kiss her; to hold her; play with her and then make love to her. Apart from a perfunctory kiss before he mounted her he had made love to her as though she didn’t exist. It was as if she was just something to ejaculate into. The most accurate description she could think of was ‘he took me’. There was no love; just a satisfying of his lust.

After he left she was worried, as he’d taken no precautions, she might become pregnant and worried she had made the wrong choice. Her period came on schedule, but for the next three years she couldn’t escape the doubts she harboured about him.

As she looked back, she was forced to admit the final two years of her undergraduate studies and the first year of law school, during which Iain had been serving in France, were the best three years of her life. She had continued to live at the University with Jenny until they both finished their undergraduate degrees and during which time they became inseparable, or were when Jenny’s boyfriend wasn’t around. She enjoyed both of their company but, most of all, she’d enjoyed Jenny’s warmth and friendliness. She had also completed her sex education.

It started the night she had returned, unexpectedly, from a weekend at home and found Jenny and Tom naked on her bed, in what Jenny had called the ‘soixante-neuf’ position. Jenny had described it to her and she understood how it worked, but this was her first practical demonstration. When she walked in Jenny, who was facing her and on top, took her mouth from Tom’s cock, looked up at her and smiled; somewhere beneath her thighs Tom kept on licking Jenny’s clit.

“You’re home early.” Sophie had turned beet red. “We’re nearly there. Can you wait a minute?”

She thought she ought to answer ‘no’ but, since they obviously weren’t worried about her being there and, as Jenny had said they were nearly there, she felt she couldn’t refuse them and, besides, she was curious. Sex with Iain had taught her nothing and this was an opportunity to learn something and, she had to admit, she was starting to get excited. She had agreed and Jenny’s smile had turned into a laugh and then a knowing leer. Jenny who had bent her head as if to start again suddenly stopped, looked at her and said,

“I’ve got a better idea. You remember I offered you Tom as a teaching aid? Well, Iain isn’t here and there’s no time like the present.” Tom, who had stopped what he was doing, sat up, put his arm around Jenny and, smiling at Sophie, said,

“It’s all right; I don’t bite. If you want you don’t have to get totally naked.”

Sophie wasn’t worried about being naked as both she and Jenny had seen each other naked and she had even been given a conducted tour of Jenny’s private parts. She wasn’t worried about Tom. He had seen her in various states of undress and, although he had never seen her fully naked, he had seen her breasts on more than one occasion. Her only concern was something would get out, since a woman’s reputation could be destroyed at even the hint of scandal. In reality she knew she was only setting up a straw man. She knew both Jenny and Tom could keep a secret since she was the only person who knew they had been lovers for almost two years.

On that first night she had done things she had never contemplated. She had started by undressing to the appreciative stares of both of her would-be lovers and then had watched as Jenny and Tom finished what she had interrupted. Jenny had come three times before Tom came but, when he did, she watched in amazement as Jenny continued to suck him as he climaxed. When Jenny finally relinquished his cock, she opened her mouth and showed Sophie his come.

“He must have been saving it up. Want to try some?”

Her initial reaction had been to refuse but, as she was likely to do it sometime, if not with Tom then somebody else. Why not try it? She held her hand out, expecting Jenny to dribble some onto her palm, but was surprised when she leant over and kissed her, forcing her tongue and Tom’s come into her mouth. She was shocked, but her shock was tempered when she looked at the smiling faces of her companions and by the realisation it didn’t taste offensive.

She watched again as Tom stood up, his wilting cock slick with a mixture of come and saliva, and was amazed how quickly it had shrunk in comparison to when Jenny was sucking him off. At the time it had seemed huge and she had been amazed and impressed by Jenny’s ability to take most of it into her mouth. Once on his feet Tom came over to her, smiled and then kissed her before turning to his lover, kissing her, cupping her breasts in the palm of his hands and tweaking her still turgid nipples. Sophie thought what a wonderful couple they made; Tom lithe, slightly tanned and good-looking and Jenny slim, pale skinned with small breasts and narrow hips whose boy-like appearance was enhanced by her short hair. Fully clothed her slight build and lack of breasts made her look innocent and much younger than her twenty years. Her appearance was deceiving as Sophie was subsequently to discover. In bed she was a tiger with no inhibitions, an insatiable desire for novelty and an ability to reach apparent unending orgasms.

Both Jenny and Tom fucked her that night. Concerned that Sophie had little sexual experience, Jenny took her first in an effort to ensure she was ready for Tom when he came to make love to her. Starting with Sophie’s nipples she sucked and kissed them and then laved her way down to her cunt where she stopped and looked up at Sophie as if to get her permission to continue. Sophie smiled, which Jenny took as implied permission to ‘carry on’. Under Jenny’s tutelage she had learned to pleasure herself but the feelings generated by Jenny’s ministrations were far more intense than her onanistic efforts. Jenny reached for her cunt and parted the lips seeking her clit. Almost instantaneously Sophie started to respond; her cunt moistening and her nipples hardening and, as Jenny licked and played with her clit, her excitement mounted driving her to reach for the back of Jenny’s head and push her cunt against her mouth trying to fuck her face. Finally as Sophie started to come, Jenny inserted two fingers into her cunt and finger-fucked her to a climax.

For a minute they lay together kissing and playing with the other’s body while Tom watched, his cock in his hand, masturbating slowly. Jenny looked up and motioned Tom to join them. Once again they played with each other but this time it was Tom who was licking Sophie’s clit and finger-fucking her. At first Jenny watched but, as she became excited, she joined them playing first with Sophie’s breasts and then Tom’s cock.

Tom was good. The feeling generated by his tongue playing with and caressing her clit excited Sophie. From time to time he stopped playing with her and turned to Jenny and kissed her. As with Jenny, the feelings generated by Tom’s efforts exceeded anything Sophie had experienced through her own efforts and, when he inserted his fingers and started to finger-fuck her she came almost immediately; bucking wildly against his fingers.

She lay on the bed for a moment enjoying the warm afterglow of her climax but was surprised when, after only a short pause, Tom kissed her and motioned her to kneel on the bed. She understood what was expected of her and obeyed his instructions; kneeling with her rear in the air; her cunt accessible to her would-be lover. Above her Tom watched; Sophie was beautiful and he was excited both by their previous exploits and by the thought of fucking her. Poised above her he started to enter her doggy fashion and, although it was difficult at first, with Jenny’s aid he pushed into her cunt. She had wondered and worried about how she would respond when Tom first entered her, remembering the pain she had suffered at Iain’s hands, but was pleasantly surprised when she felt very little discomfort.

Tom started slowly then, once it became apparent he wasn’t hurting her, he increased his pace and, as he did so, Jenny slid under Sophie and started to play with her tits and then her clit. It didn’t take her long to come; the combination of Tom’s cock sliding in and out of her cunt and Jenny’s lips teasing and playing with her clit driving her to her climax. Satisfied for the moment, she watched as Tom pulled out, rested on his knees and offered himself to Jenny who proceeded to lick their combined juices from his cock before circling him with her mouth and sucking him to a climax.

Later, when Jenny came to make love to Sophie again, it was Tom’s turn to play with his lover. As Jenny sucked on Sophie’s nipples and played with her clit, Tom slid under Jenny and played with her tits and clit. As Sophie started to come he slipped out from under Jenny, got behind her and fucked her doggy fashion; all the time watching Jenny as she lay between Sophie’s legs and brought her to a climax with her tongue. Seeing Sophie climax excited Tom and he drove into Jenny, bringing her to a shuddering climax seconds later.

From that night to the day when Jenny graduated and went back to Windsor, she had enjoyed every minute of their relationship. When she looked back it seemed to Sophie that they had made love whenever they had the opportunity. Usually it was all three but, on occasion, it had been only two. Sophie had no problem with making love to Jenny without Tom being present but had been concerned about making love to Tom in the absence of Jenny, even though she had been re-assured by Jenny that she wasn’t worried about them making love without her and besides,

“I know Tom loves me and I’m not worried about you fucking him. Sometimes it’s nice to concentrate on pleasing only one person. Tom and I do it all the time but you only do it with me. You need to make love to Tom without worrying about pleasing me, after all when you get married to Iain I assume you won’t have a third party in bed with you.” How wrong she had been.

When Sophie and Tom had made love without Jenny he had proved an attentive lover but her most enjoyable two-somes had been with Jenny, particularly during the fortnight that Tom had spent in eastern Ontario on a field trip. She and Jenny had spent almost every evening and all the weekend playing with and exploring each other so that by the time Tom returned they had explored, licked and sucked every available outer and inner inch of each other’s bodies. On his return Jenny, displaying her usual sense of humour, had laughed when she told him she was glad to see him as she had blisters on her tongue. It was the summer of 1917, however, which was truly memorable.

It had started innocuously enough. Sophie had been invited to stay with Jenny and her family Windsor for June and July. Early June had been spent at the family home in Windsor and had been busy with Jenny showing Sophie the town and taking her to visit her relatives. In late June, as usual, the family decamped en bloc for the family cottage on Lake Huron.

The Farrars were an active family and, for the first three weeks at the cottage, Sophie found herself engaging in activities ranging from horseshoes, to badminton to trips in canoes and the family launch. In mid-July they were joined by Tom and two cousins, on Jenny’s mother’s side, from Iowa. Douglas, 22, and his sister Irene, 18, were on holiday visiting relatives in Michigan and Ontario. The daughter bore a striking resemblance to Jenny. Short, pale-skinned with blonde haired and a boyish figure she could easily have been mistaken for Jenny’s younger sister. The son had similar colouring but, unlike his sister, was tall and well built.

The first week was difficult as the cottage had only three bedrooms and the girls and Tom were forced to sleep outside in two tents. At the end of the week the adults and Jenny’s younger brother returned to Windsor leaving Tom, Jenny, Sophie and the cousins to spend the last week in July on their own. Jenny’s mother had been reluctant to leave the younger girl with them but had been convinced by Jenny she would be all right and that she would look after her.

For the first night without the parents Jenny had allocated the sleeping facilities. The two cousins were given a bedroom each with Jenny and Sophie sharing the other and Tom out in the tent. An hour after going to bed Jenny, who had arranged to meet Tom in his tent at mid-night, leant over to Sophie and tweaked her breast. Sophie had murmured in her sleep and tried to roll over. Annoyed it hadn’t got the response she had anticipated, Jenny had leaned over and gently bitten Sophie’s nipple. It got the response she was looking for. Sophie awoke, rubbed her nipple and, seeing her lover smiling at her, smiled back.

This is a true story, some of the events are marginally different. But only from my bad memory!

I am a slim white male, early twenties, 5’11″ with an 8″ cock. I’ve always had a very high sex drive; this has led to me having lots of fantasies over the years. Initially I would just fantasise about girls I knew, but as I watched more porn and read more erotica I began to broaden my horizons. I started watching a lot of MILF porn and this led, inevitably, to thoughts about my own mother. She is 5 foot, slim, good looking, with larger than average breasts. She often wears tops that give me a view of her cleavage and every now and again when she would lean forward or bend over I could see her nipples. Any resistance to arousal would disappear at these moments and I began to seriously imagine what fucking my Mum would be like. I began to read more and more incest erotica, and I would cum heavily when thinking about her. I had no idea that it would turn out the way it did though…..

I was home alone on a Saturday afternoon, which as it didn’t happen very often, meant I was sitting at my computer naked reading mum and son porn online. One of my favourites at the time involved a guy who also had a fantasy about his mother, and he would jack off with his mum’s panties around his cock. The thought of jacking off with something that had been on my mum’s pussy was too much for me so I went to the laundry basket.

After a quick look I managed to find a white lace pair, I quickly brought them back to my room. I brought them up to my face and took a long sniff of my mother’s pussy, then unable to help myself I started licking them. I had become absolutely rock hard, I couldn’t believe how turned on I had become by my mum’s panties. Instead of rubbing them on my cock I had an urge to try them on. As I pulled them up I couldn’t believe how turned on I was getting, I had to adjust to fit my 8″ cock in them, and pulled up the back so it slipped between my cheeks.

I went over to my full length mirror and was amazed at how hot I looked with my cock straining against the lace panties. I stroked it through the panties and almost exploded, quickly realising this might be a bad idea in my mum’s panties! I turned around to see my ass, and it looked so appealing. My cute tight ass in a pair of panties is a sight I will never forget, I have never been so turned on by someone’s ass.

I sat back down in the panties and pulled my cock out and started stroking it. Knowing that my usual incest porn wasn’t going to be enough for me, I wondered what I needed. I went back to the category screen and the transsexual section jumped out at me. It’s not something I’d ever considered before but after seeing my cock in a pair of panties I had to have a go. I searched for something still involving incest and I was not disappointed.

The story I found involved a boy, who after finishing school early went back home and found who he thought was his single mum sitting on the sofa with her cock out. This eventually led to them having some incredibly intimate sex and after that the son trying out cross dressing as well. By this point I was almost at the point of no return, but before I came I felt the need to see a ts in action. So I browsed various porn sites until I found a stunning ts milf jacking herself off and cumming. That was too much for me and I exploded everywhere, a drop of cum even reaching my chin. I couldn’t quite believe how I’d reached this point but with the rest of the day ahead of me I knew there was more to come.

After a little break and still in my mum’s panties I started getting myself hard again. Starting off watching videos of hot transsexuals playing with themselves, I quickly moved onto them having sex with men. I had never really thought about a blowjob from the giving side before, but seeing these beautiful women sucking a guy’s dick with their own hard on was turning me on like I couldn’t believe.

Seeing the guy then move on and eventually fuck the ts was even more arousing, especially when she would ride him with her cock bouncing up and down. Before I realised I had been watching them for hours and had begun to develop an obsession. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to have sex with a ts more than I had ever wanted sex before.

I decided to sign up to a free website that organised sexual hook-ups. I made my profile stating my desires and uploaded a few pics of myself including my hard cock and a few of me in panties. I began to get messages from guys almost immediately, saying how good my ass looked in a pair of panties and that they wanted to fuck me all night long, but I wasn’t looking for that, as flattering as it was.

I browsed the site and found a gorgeous oriental ts who had met with a few guys my age before and could accommodate. I messaged her saying what I thought of her and how I really wanted to meet her. She replied not long after saying that she was very interested and would love a meet sometime soon and asked for my number. I text her to ask her when she was free and we eventually agreed on a meet next Friday evening at her place. I was buzzing, the thought that I would be having sex with my new found ultimate sexual desire was amazing.

Still quite a way away from cumming again I carried on watching porn. As I was watching the videos of the ts’ getting fucked I began to rub the fingers of my free hand around my anus. I began to get fully hard straight away, and I then started to push my index finger in a little. The further it went in the better it felt, and after I while my I began to feel like I needed something more in there.

Not wanting to hurt myself I went to the bathroom and picked up the baby oil and lubed up my fingers and ass. My first finger slid in easily and I followed it with a second, nothing had ever felt this good! As I began to start getting a fucking rhythm with my ass I had come to the verge of cumming, so while shoving in a third finger I let myself go, once again covering myself with cum. I began to rub my cum into my chest and stomach while thinking of how far I had come during the day, feeling that the only next step was to be fucked for real. I had a feeling Friday night would be interesting……

This is a major re-write of my first story, “Susan, Bob, and Me.” I had some helpful suggestions on improvements. I decided to start over. This version and subsequent chapters are the result.

As background, much of this story is based on my actual experiences. Other parts are fiction but represent fantasies some of which might happen in the right circumstances. I was very much the nerd in school as described in the story. Physically I am very similar to Jim, tall, slender and have filled out so I’m no longer skinny. I’m proud to say that my cock fits the description in the story. More than one girl friend has told me I could be in porno. Not sure about that but it helped give me confidence and overcome my shyness. Susan in my story is a composite of several real girl friends who were very patient in showing me how to satisfy a woman.


My name is Jim and I’m 20 years old. A year ago I was very much a nerd. Only one date in my life, with a friend. Girls were scary creatures. I was always the shortest in my class and wore thick glasses. Kids called me four eyes back then.

During the past two years I grew a bunch and am now an even six feet tall and not quite so skinny. I changed to contact lenses, no more thick glasses. But these changes had not yet caused an improvement in my self image. To me I was still the short, geeky, four eyes that other guys picked on and girls ignored.

I was good at two sports, running, and swimming. In high school phys ed, we ran the mile and I could frequently could beat the track team guys. Coach wanted me to join the team, but I was far too shy to actually do it. One reason for my shyness was discomfort in showering with other guys. I not only put on some height but some significant length in a more vital area. I wasn’t interest in guys but it seemed that my cock had a tendency to grow at inopportune times. Doing so in the high school locker room would have been bad. It never did but I worried.

Swimming was my other sport, not that I did it in any organized way. I was just good at it. Nice clean dives, good swim strokes, and able to swim like a fish under water. I took a course in scuba and loved it.

Our small town had a nice community pool and after leaving my part-time summer job, I usually went swimming. One day, I remember it well, was different. As I climbed out of the water I saw a very good looking girl sitting in a chair next to mine. Being my shy self, I didn’t say anything, but she did.

“You looked really good out there.” Are you on a swim team?”

“No, I just like to swim.”

“I have seen you before and like to watch you.”

“Thank you.” (as I said, I was pretty shy, no great conversationalist)

As it turned out, however, I did have a nice chat with her. She asked me about school, my interests and hobbies, and so forth. Her name was Susan. She was married, and would be a senior in college the next semester. I later found out she was 23. Oh, she also was very, very good looking: blond, about 5ft 7, maybe B or C cups, slim with a cute bubble butt. Her yellow bikini suit barely met pool standards. I might have been shy but my eyes worked well.

That night featured terrific fantasies and my hand on my cock worked overtime.

A couple of days later we met up again at the pool. This time I was much more comfortable being around her.

“You really look good in that swim suit.”

Self-consciously I looked down and to my horror saw a fairly large bulge in the front of my nylon suit. The suit wasn’t exactly a Speedo but close to it. Oops. And now that she said that the problem was definitely getting worse.

“That suit fits you perfectly. And I can tell that you are well built where it counts. I’ll bet the girls have fun with you.”

Blushing furiously, I responded “Not really, I’m pretty shy around girls.”

“Are you a virgin?” Susan was very forward.

More blushing, “yes.”

“All you need is a little more confidence and some experience and girls will be falling all over you. You need someone to get you started.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“The day is still early. Let’s go over to my house and I’ll fix you some ice tea and we can talk.”

“OK.” (puppy dog me)

Now I was sitting in her kitchen as Susan fixed some ice tea. My focus was on her sexy bubble butt, barely covered by her bikini. My suit had this terrific bulge in front which I attempted to hid by keeping my legs partly under the table.

“My husband and I have a lot of fun in bed and he also lets me play around a little with other guys. I would like to be your teacher.”

“How are you doing back there?” she asked.


“Do you like my butt?”

“Yeah, it’s very sexy.”

Turning around, she said “How about my front? Do you like my boobs?”

“Yes, you are the sexiest girl I have ever seen.”

“Stand up, let me see if you really mean it.”

By now, of course, my cock was straining every fiber of my swim suit. Licking her lips she said “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

What a deal. Zip, down went the suit. Actually I had to work at it a bit due the expansive nature of my cock. My new-found pride and joy sprang out.

“My, that’s a big one. Have you ever measured it?”

Blushing, I said no. Actually I had but what guy wants to admit it. My honest measurement was 8 1/2″ and 7″ circumference at the base. A bit smaller at the head.

“It’s beautiful. Can I touch it? It’s so big and hard, even bigger than my husband’s. He will be jealous.”

Susan played a little with my cock. No girl had ever before seen my cock, much less touched it. She stroked up and down a few times. “Nice tight balls. You have great equipment. Do you like what I’m doing?”

“Yeh, but I might start squirting pretty soon.”

“I better stop then. I want to have more fun with you.”

“Can you take off your suit? You promised to show me. I want to see.”

Susan unfastened the upper part of her bikini. Here I was, my cock sticking out, looking at the best set of boobs a young guy could dream for. Maybe midway between B and C cups with a perky up-tilt.

“Do you like them? Shall I take my bottoms off too?”

“Yes, please, I want to see all of you.”

Golden pubic hair, she was a true blond.

“I’m only a few years older than you but I’ve had experience with guys. At your age your cock is your center of the universe. But if you want to be popular with women you have to learn how to satisfy them sexually. Most guys just want to stick it in, finish all too quickly, and leave the girl hanging. Not good for your reputation!”

“You have everything it takes to be a successful lover: a nice personality, a really big cock, broad shoulders, nice lean butt. Do you want me to teach you?”

“You bet, that would be great!”

“OK, we start by being clean. If you want a girl to give you a blowjob or if you eat her pussy, cleanliness is real important. A shower together is perfect. Let’s do it.”

Susan led me by my cock to her shower.

“First thing, we wet ourselves down. Good. I’ll go first and show you what to do. This will be fun. I take a big squirt of body wash on my hand and apply to your chest. A second squirt for your cock. Now I start washing you with both hands, just like this.”

Susan used her hands like a wash cloth. She put one hand on my cock and the other on my ass. As she stroked my cock she rubbed between my ass cheeks and slipped a a finger into my butt.

“Do you like my finger in there?”

“Yeah, feels kinda funny but good.”

“OK, I don’t want to do too much right now. Now your turn.”

Similarly, I washed Susan, paying lots of attention to her breasts and pussy. She placed her hands on mine and moved it up to her breasts. “Play with them. Feel my nipples. Squeeze them with your fingers. Not too hard, yes that’s good.”

She moved my right hand down to her pussy and moved it around in a circular motion. “That feels good. Now slide a couple of fingers along my slit.”

My hand and fingers worked around her pussy. She shifted slightly and I put the two fingers inside her. “Yes, keep doing that.”

“Now take your other hand and rub it on my butt. Slip your hand between my cheeks, then back up the crack of my ass. Here, like this.”

My inexperience was embarrassing. “Stick your finger in my butt, move it around.”

“OK, now get behind me and slide your cock between my legs. Not in my pussy, just along my slit. That’s right. Now go back and forth like you are fucking me. Perfect! Wow, your cock is so big I can play with the head when you push towards me.”

“On another occasion we could fuck in this position, but not this time. Let’s rinse off.”

Susan led me to the bed and started playing with my cock.

“Here, taste this.” My cock was leaking precum and she used her finger to pick up some and put it in my mouth. “How’s that?”

“OK, doesn’t taste like much, maybe a little salty.”

“Here’s some more.”

“You know what a blowjob is?” “Yeah, I’ve seen porno movies.” “Would you like me to do that to you?”

“Would you really? That would be super!”

Holding my cock in her hand, she leaned over and kissed the head. Then she licked around the head like an ice cream cone. The sensation was exquisite.

“Like this? You must, look how much you are leaking.”

She licked up the precum. Susan put the head in her mouth, bobbing up and down a little so just the head was going in and out. Her tongue bathed my shaft, licking up and down its length. She slid deeper onto my cock, taking most of it. Her mouth was warm and slippery. Nothing likewhen I used my hand to jerk off. Each bob of her head took in a little more until all but two inches remained.

“I like to deep throat my husband but your cock is so fat that I don’t think I can do you. How does this feel?” She put her lips tightly around his cock while her fingers moved up and down.

“Great, but you better take me out of your mouth, I’m almost ready to come. Oh, it feels so good. I’m … going …to cum.”

Her head bobbed faster and then mouth-fucked just the head. The sensation was overwhelming. Never in my whole life… I felt my cum travel the length of my cock. I pushed deeper and made small thrusts as I came.

After the first big spurt Susan quickly pulled my cock out and collected the next couple of spurts on her hand. She put some on her finger.

“OK, now taste this.”

“Isn’t that gross?”

“Well, I just tasted it. To be a good lover you have to be adventuresome.”

She fed me my cum, which tasted salty and warm, somewhat like egg whites in consistency. It was ok, not great.

“Good! We are going to have so much fun together. But it’s getting late, Bob will be home soon. How about tomorrow afternoon, you busy?” I can assure you nothing on my agenda was more important!

I stopped by Susan’s house the next day after swimming. She hugged me. “Are you ready for your next lesson? Take your clothes off and come with me.”

“By the way my husband wants me to shave my hair and go bare. What do you think?”

Connoisseur of pussy that I was (not), I diplomatically said “Either way. I didn’t know girls shaved down there.”

“It’s becoming more popular. My husband likes to eat my pussy and thinks it would be more fun with a shaved one. Have you ever eating a girl’s pussy?”


“Would you like to eat mine? I’ll show you how.”

“Yes, if you show me what to do.”

Susan spread her legs and for the first time I enjoyed the sight of a girl’s pussy in all its glory. She showed me how the lips would open up and using both hands, spread apart to show me the pink hole within. Dipping first one finger, and then two, she said “That’s where your cock will be going one of these times we get together.”

That was sufficient incentive, to say the least.

“Come here and start licking me. I’ll show you what I like.”

I did as she asked and moved down to her pussy. It seemed unbelievable that I was between the legs of this oh so sexy girl. She tasted salty, slightly sweet yet tangy. I lapped up and down her slit, each time sliding past her pussy hole. I could feel her lips spreading apart, making it easy for my tongue to reach her hole. I used it like a little cock.

Susan continued to give me directions. She pulled my head tightly between her legs. “Put your mouth on my pussy. Suck me.” My mouth and face were covered with her juices. I sucked on her hole and then flicked my tongue up and down.

I kissed her mound just above her clit. “See that little button up at the top? That’s my clitoris. It will become very sensitive as you play with me. I’ll tell you when to lick it.”

I stuck two fingers into her pussy while tweeking her clit with my other hand. Her lips were red and greatly enlarged. “Now, lick my clitoris. Quickly!” I continued to finger fuck her as I mouthed her clit. She shook as her climax consumed her. I put my mouth back at her pussy and tasted a rush of additional juice. Her sudden, strong response amazed and delighted me. My first effort at satisfying a woman!

“You are a natural. I can’t believe that was your first time. You are going to be a frequent visitor to my pussy. Wow! Come up here and kiss me.” I hesitated since pussy juice covered my face and mouth. “That’s all right, I know what my pussy tastes like. Kiss me.”

She reached down and stroked my cock which had somewhat wilted while I was distracted with her pussy. It quickly resumed its full size. Susan pulled my cock into her mouth and did her magic. I came within minutes.

“It’s getting late and I want don’t want our first fuck to be rushed. Let’s get together again next Saturday. Don’t spend all week jerking off, I want you to be real horny with lots of cum stored up.”

Naturally I was disappointed in having to wait for the big event. The week would go by slowly! But Saturday did eventually come and I was at Susan’s house right on time. We started with a shower just like the first time.

“Today I want you to fuck me.”

“OK but you have to show me what to do.”

“You bet! I’m the teacher.” I suppose years from now people would ask me who my favorite teacher was.

She scooted herself down to my groin and continue to stroke my cock and play with my balls. “You could be a star in a porno movie with this cock.” I think my head grew some, along with the head on my cock.

Susan started licking the head and shaft, and ask me if I liked it. Huh! Is the Pope Catholic?

“My husband loves me to give him blow jobs so I’ve had a lot of practice. I’ve even blown a few of his friends. Your cock is about the best I ever had. I’m going to try this time to get it all down my throat.”

Information overload: blow jobs to friends, deep throat! She really stuffed my cock down all the way. I don’t know how she did it, but could see her throat bulge. Not that I had anything to compare it to, but Susan was terrific.

“I’m coming.”

“Shoot it down my throat.”

“Here it comes”, followed by four or five blasts. Hand jobs were never like this!

“Now eat my pussy.”

Last week was my first effort. This time I felt more confident. Susan spread her legs. She slipped a finger between her lips and then into her hole. “Come here lover. Make love to my pussy.” I was drawn like a magnet towards her honeypot. I started with some very light licks around her lips, then nudged the tip of my tongue between her outer lips. “Oh, baby”, she reponded. “You are really learning. So good! Don’t rush, we have all day. Yes, right there.”

I licked the length of her slit, then stuck the tip of my tongue into her pink hole. I could smell her musky arousal as her pussy started to become wet.

“Here, I’ll spread my lips, go deep with your tongue.” My tongue probed her hole almost like a cock. In, out. Then I placed my mouth between her spread lips and sucked her flowing juices. She pulled my head to her crotch and clamped her legs. I was enveloped in her wetness.

“Damn, I’m coming!” I stuck two fingers into her and rolled my tongue around her clit. Her pussy contracted on my fingers as she shuddered with orgasm.

I felt really proud that my technique was getting good enough to make her come. We played with each other for a minute as she settled down. I massaged her breasts and sucked on the nipples. She stroked my cock, making it hard again.

“Now I want you to fuck me. What position do you want?”

What did I know? “I don’t care, you decide.”

“I like doggy style the most. And you can watch your cock going in. I’m already juicy down there, you did a great job eating me. But you still have to go slow putting that thing in.”

On her tummy she spread her legs, raised her butt up a little and told me to rub her pussy with my fingers. “OK, now put your cock at my pussy and rub it up and down. Don’t push it in yet. Just up and down with the head.”

“Now find my pussy hole and put your cock head at the hole. Just barely push in. Too fast. Slow is better. OK, now push in a little, then back out. That’s it. Now in some more. Easy, take it slow. A little in, then back out. You feel great. How much is in?”

I looked down and saw about two or three inches in her pussy. Wow, sex overload, my cock in the pussy of this beautiful, sexy girl.

“Just a little way. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Don’t go in any deeper for the moment, just keep going in and out. It feels great.” Of course each of my stokes went a bit deeper and Susan didn’t seem to mind at all. I held her hips and moved my butt back and forth. My fat cock was enveloped in her tight hole making a squishy sound.

“Just be still for a moment and let me get used to you. You’re deeper than my husband has ever been, deeper than any of his friends.”

“OK, put the rest in. Wait a minute. Now start fucking me. Start slow, almost all the way out, then back in. That’s it. Now pull almost out and fuck me with just the head of your cock going in and out. Oh, that feels so good. You’re doing great.”

I was using just the last inch or so of my cock, spreading her lips, then coming out almost completely. Then back in. It was hard to keep control, I wanted to push hard and deep. My cock head was becoming very sensitive.

“OK, now do deep, long strokes.” I thrust in all the way, then back out until just the tip was beween her lips. Then in again.

“Reach under me. Spread your finger around your cock, rub my pussy lips. Now move your fingers to my clit. Oh, yes!”

I had a good rhythm going with my thrusts and my fingers working her clit. A milky white foam covered my cock and her lips.

“Faster. Faster. Oh, so good.”

She pushed back on me and shuddered. I felt a flood of juices envelop my hand. I held her hips and shoving my cock deep as I spurted a week’s worth of cum into her. My first fuck was apparently a success for both of us!

“Stay on top, stay in me.” Susan and I laid there with my shrinking cock still in her. I was exhausted. This was the most amazing experience of my entire life!

A quick shower together and I was on my way home. A most interesting, educational, and pleasurable afternoon to say the least. Susan told me I did great and wants to get together again.

I didn’t see Susan at the pool for a week. And then she was there!

“I can’t stay, got some things to do. But how about coming over to my place about three tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

My fourth visit was as educational as the first three. She gave me a super blowjob and I came profusely (I had purposely held back on my jerk off-ing during the preceding days). We played with each other and I explored her body some more. My tongue found a sensitive spot behind her ears, just above her hips on her side, and of course her nipples. I worked my way down to eat her pussy but she stopped me.

“Your cock is ready again. I want you to fuck me.”

Ever the obedient pupil, I did just that. We started in the doggy position again but then she had me lay down and she mounted me. First facing me, and then away from me. Both positions felt great but I like it best when she faced away so I could watch my cock go in and out.

This story is 100% fictional and all characters in it are over the age of 18. This is the final part of a four part series. I hope you enjoy.

The End

The scent of piss is strong in the air as Dad and I step out of the bathroom after our much needed shower. Sounds of ecstasy come from the living room. Dad’s face matches the surprise that I’m sure is on mine, as he puts his finger to his full lips in a hush motion. We both slowly make our way down the hall towards the sounds, and as we turn the corner the sight is shocking.

My mother is laying on the floor, in the puddle of piss and semen my father and I had left there, getting mercilessly fucked by my ex boyfriend, John. He pumps in and out of her like he hasn’t had sex is ages, even though I caught them at it earlier this morning. They are both soaked, like they’ve been rolling around down there for a while now.

“What the fuck!” Dad yells out, taking in deep breathes while looking at the scene below him.

My mom jumps up, leaving John in the mess on the floor, he’s got that grin on his face that I love, and I can’t decide if I want to hit him for fucking with my mom, or if I want to fuck him too.

“Hey Will, how’s it hanging?” John asks with a smirk.

My mom is all over my dad, talking to him in hushed tones.

“You said you wanted to be closer to Will,” She whispers to him loudly, “You said you wished he and John would come over more, that we could be closer as a family. And I thought of a way to do that. I know you miss having sex with the occasional man, and I thought maybe if I could seduce John, that maybe Will would go running to you. And he did! Look what our family can be now! So close. Forever.”

Dad looks down at her angrily after she’s done with her speech. He Can’t be buying this. But apparently he does, because he grabs her around the waist and kisses her so deep it looks almost painful.

Now John is really smiling as he gets up from the floor. HE stands and walks over to me, wraps his strong arms around me, but I keep mine at my sides, not accepting the embrace.

“I knew you missed them, and I know you wanted them both, you talk about it in your sleep. Can you really blame me for fucking your mom? You’ve done it too, it’s a great experience. We can have that more wild sex life you’ve been craving. Like this pissing thing, if I knew it could be so erotic I would have tried it sooner,” John says to me, and then he kisses me full on the mouth. I can taste my mother on him, as well as my cold piss from the floor, and I can’t help myself, I’m hard in seconds and kissing back with gusto.

My mom is on her knees in front of my dad, making up for her infidelity with what looks like a pretty impressive blow job. My dad’s fingers are wrapped in her long hair while he enjoys the ride. John looks over too, and slowly slides to his knees as well. His mouth feels warm and familiar as he draws me in. Apparently my mother has taught him a thing or two, because now he goes more slowly, taunting me with what he knows I want, just like she does. He makes slow, seductive circles around my head, and it’s almost too much. I’ve really missed him. Before I’m finished mom puts a hand on John’s shoulder and he stops.

“Aww,” I stammer, pouting out my lip before I can stop myself. John smiles at my sexual frustration as he takes my hand, following my mother, who is leading all three of her men to the bedroom.

Every man rolls on a condom, and lines up. My mom jumps from penis to penis, lubing us all up with her trained mouth. My dad sits down on the bed and John picks me up in a bridal carry. He lowers me onto my dad while my mom directs his dick into my waiting asshole. I sit there for a second, feeling the pain ease away into pleasure. John enters my mothers ass as well, and then this four legged beast mounts me and my dad so that I am now fucking my mom. It is the weirdest feeling, my dad moves his hips so he slides out of me, and when he pushes back in, I slam into my mom. We are a big mass of people, kissing and fucking with all our might. John and Dad eventually find a rhythm so that they slam into us at the same time. My mom cums a few times as John as I rub together inside her. She nibbles on my neck lightly, while John and Dad continue to move in and out of us.

“Come on baby, cum for mommy,” She whispers in my ear. And I do, and within seconds John and dad are cumming as well. We separate, Dad and John pair up, and I’m with mom. Mom and dad both have their faces shoved in the mattress and John and I fuck them roughly from behind.

“Yes Baby! Fuck mama!” She screams while I ride her, Dad just grunts as John moves inside him. He grunts even louder as he cums, leaving a puddle on the bed spread. Mom scoops up some of the goo and offers her covered hand to John, who sucks on her fingers greedily. She offers it to me next and I finish licking the salty liquid from her palm.

“I’m cumming again, baby! You’re soooo good to your mama,” She whispers, bucking against me as she cums one more time. John looks over at me and gives me that smirk, and we both speed up, cumming together inside my parents.

We all lay together for a while, to tired from our massive fuck to do anything but listen to each others breathing.

“Hey Will,” John says after awhile, “What do you say to selling the apartment and moving in here?”

Looking around at all the love that surrounds me, in the bed that I now belong in, I smile.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

Well, I suppose you already know me, don’t you? No? Of me then? Possibly. And if you only know of me, then you are probably just a little confused as to who I am, or at least interested, or at least bored enough to allow me to introduce myself.

But where would the fun be if I just spoke through this all? So I shall tell you that my name is, Abby, and let you witness the rest first hand. Shall we start from the beginning? Why not, we started in the middle last time. Next time we might even start at the end. Or maybe this is the end? You can judge that.

It all started for me a few months after my 18th birthday…


The bird and the scarlet worm.

The sun was hidden behind the melancholy grey clouds that lay draped over the sky for all of the wet season, and most of the dry season.

Suffice to say the lush green grass that grew over the hilly landscape around small wooden shacks, large crop fields, and the towering oak tree forests isn’t usually the driest place to sit.

Despite that fact a small framed girl draped in a grass stained grey tunic and similarly grass stained brown pants was lying on top of a small hill under a tree, her dull orange hair framing a freckled pale face set with high strong cheekbones and an almost-angular jawline.

Her skinny arms were stained with dirt and held behind her head as she lay down, her bare toes squirming in the long grass whilst her moss green eyes stared aimlessly at a small brown and black spotted bird high in the branches.

The bird for its part stared back, bright yellow eyes shining with intelligence whilst its elongated talons idly scratched at its perch and its long black tail feathers twitched in the wind.

She shifted her left hand to hold it up towards the bird, her index finger curled inwards as a supposedly tempting perch before she pursed her thin lips together and began whistling a slow, lilting song that echoed around the large oak.

The bird swayed side to side slowly at the melody before jumping off the branch, its wings held wide to reveal large mottled purple and blue circles at the base of each flight feather as it slowly fluttered down to rest with claws gripped lightly around the girls’ finger.

She simply let the small creature sit there as she pushed herself up with her right hand so she could look closely into its golden eyes with deep intrigue, the bird returned her stare for a few seconds before pecking at her bottom lip hard, drawing a few small droplets of blood and hastily fluttering off into the grey sky.

The girl didn’t seem to mind the peck much and simply used the back of her newly freed left hand to wipe off the small scarlet mess, staining her sun-reddened skin with a dark sanguine smear.

Ignoring the small streak of blood she lifts herself up onto her feet and begins walking down towards the dirt road, turning sharply left to begin her slow march home.

The second seed: Lust and Anger.

The girl had returned to the wooden shack she called home to a slight surprise, after opening the flimsy door that acted as the portal to the main room that held a small fireplace against the far wall, with a metal cooking pot hanging over it, next to the fireplace in the far right corner was her bed-made of squashed down grass in a large sack, on the left wall near the front door were two doors, one led to the storeroom where they held grains, rice, dough and various salted meats.

The other room was her older sister, Lace’s room, and the surprise. Two fold surprise actually, the first was that the usual bare wooden walls were draped in large velvet rugs, her usual grass-beaten bed was now replaced by a multitude of black silken fabric piled on top of each other, in fact her whole room looked like it had been refurnished by a carpet spewing cow.

The second was that pressed against a particularly tall pile of purple rugs was her sister, legs spread wide and fast asleep with both hands cupping her shaven pussy, her flawless ivory skin shimmering with droplets of sweat that plastered her raven black hair to the side of her face and kept her pink nipples hard in the cold air, her D cups bouncing softly with each panting breath.

Normally Abby would simply just close the door and go off to bed to wait for her to wake up, but two factors swayed her judgement, the first was a lingering smell of bitter spices that wafted from the room and stirred a deep longing within the orange haired girl.

The second was that over the last few months her sister’s sexual appetite had grown annoyingly large, more often than not Abby would wake up with her pussy smothering her face, and due to an obvious strength difference she really had no choice other than to lick or wait for her to be done.

With lust born from the odd smell and justification granted by past actions Abby stole stealthily over the floor layered with rugs, her pants discarded in a swift movement by the door.

She stood with her legs on either side of Lace’s thighs, her shaven pussy less than a hairs breadth from the raven haired girls lips, the sweet musk overruling the arousing scent and stirring her from her slumber slightly.

Without giving her a chance to awaken fully Abby gently thrusts her hips forwards, letting her delicate folds squash against Lace’s lips whilst her nose teases her clit unintentionally, causing Abby to moan softly and Lace to awaken further.

Awoken to the feel and scent of pussy pressed against her mouth, Lace parts her plump lips slightly allowing her tongue to tease just under the inner edges of the pussy before exploring deep down along the inner walls with probing curls and flicks.

Her sisters’ reaction spurs Abby to begin grinding up against her face, causing her nose to repeatedly rub against the small, stiff pleasure nub, coaxing long, drawn out moans of ecstasy from the younger sister.

The grinding and moaning urges Lace to begin hurrying with her attentions, her tongue eagerly lapping and curling against the girls inner walls, stretching them slightly before pulling back to lightly flick the sensitive flesh.

This would continue for a long two minutes before Abby, with a movement born of orgasmic need would lower her hands to grip onto the sides of her sisters head, simultaneously pushing her hips forward to literally bury the older sisters face in her pussy moments before screaming out in orgasmic pleasure, her pussy squeezing around her tongue whilst flooding the lower half of her face with warm, sweet liquid.

The sudden wetness leaking down her jawline and neck awakens her fully, coaxing her into looking up into the panting vision of her younger sister, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and eyes closed peacefully.

This visage caused her to leap up in a fit of rage, using both hands to push the small framed girl onto the rugs, the motion causing small chunks of hair to be pulled out from the side of her head thanks to Abby’s orgasmic grip.

Abby simply stares up whimpering, the release releasing the clouds from her mind, replacing lust with fear at the sight of her sister standing up over her, naked body shimmering with sweat, her own liquid dripping down onto the rugs and her sister’s chest from her lips and jawline, giving her scowling features an odd air.

Lace grips the top of Abby’s head, ripping out hair as she literally throws the small girl out into the large living room, Abby grabs onto a thin white piece of silken rug; embroidered with pictures of fantastical landscapes and underlined with black squiggles.

“You fucking perverted little… Ugh!! Just go! NOW!” Lace screamed with rage, and slammed her door in Abby’s face, giving her no chance to retort.

With submissiveness deeply rooted in her psyche she doesn’t question the order, instead simply puts her pants back on, dampening the crotch with a mixture of fem-cum and saliva, and drapes the white silk over her shoulders before making her way back out into the cold night.

Murder! Murder and tapestry!

Abby trudged along the large dirt roads, finding her way by pale moonlight, the thin silk providing little warmth in the icy winds.

She would continue like this; eyes fixed ahead of her following deep impressions in the dirt made by a horse drawn carriage, the darkness of the forest around her narrowing her perception of reality until a sudden brightness lights up the dirt under her.

This coaxes her to look up into the face of a broad faced guard with a tussled mess of auburn hair, his nose lumpy from previous breaks, his grizzled jawline covered with a fine line of dark brown hair and his blue eyes framed by purple shadows.

He was draped in dulled chainmail that refused to reflect the light of the torch he held in his right hand, but reflected brightly of the hilt of his sword poking from a leather scabbard at his waist.

He looked down at the small girl with a look of disdain that quickly shifted into surprise, and then anger.

Abby was too slow to register these emotions, and was taken wholly by surprise when he backhanded her with his left hand, sending her cascading onto her side into a ditch by the side of the road, her left cheek was stinging badly, and her shoulder and her right arm were badly grazed and bruised.

“I found the evil wretch!’ The guard hollered in a deep, booming voice to invisible companions.

His invisible companions soon showed themselves, circling Abby in her awkward position in the ditch with her legs still on the upper ground of the dirt path.

One of the guards, dressed in a red tunic over gleaming chainmail lent over her and grabbed the white silk that was crumbled at her side, holding it up to the torchlight before shaking his head slowly, a look of sadness in his eyes that shifted to regret when he looks down at the crumpled, young girl.

“Help her up, make sure she’s not in need of medical treatment, and be wary of concealed weapons.” His voice was tinged with the sadness shown in his brown eyes.

Weapons? Who carries weapons this far out? Is this about the silk I took from Lace?

Abby’s thoughts were racing as she was lifted into the air by the base of her left arm, this close up she could see only the initial guard and the semi-kind one had their faces bare, the rest were wearing masks of copper that only showed shadows where their eyes were and hid their hair and neck with black silk.

The red tunic wearing guard held her left hand up into the light, his grip was kind and allowed Abby to make out the features of his face, his eyes were sunken but shone with intelligence, his close cropped black hair balding, but he was surprisingly handsome, broad curved jawline and high, strong cheekbones fit in with his broad, muscled frame.

He looked down at the dried blood wiped from her lip and staining her pink tinged hand, he then looked up at the first guard and uttered a few coarse words in an unknown language before looking back at the girl with a look of sadness and suspicion

“My name is, Leon. I’m of the imperial guard, where were you this afternoon?” His voice was stern but not unkind.

“I was outside under a tree, near my home.” Abby replied meekly, her eyes focused on the steel shoes of the guard.

“Do you have anyone willing to back your statement?” It was the original guard, his voice hoarse and gruff.

“My sister, Lace-she would have been able to see me.” Abby knew this was a lie, but was hoping she would back her up.

“Where did you obtain this tapestry?” it was Leon again, the kindness still in his voice.

“Tape-.. The silk? It was in my sisters’ room when I got home.” Abby had panic tinged in her voice by this point, she knew something was amiss.

“Does she have many of these items?” it was a faceless guard, his voice echoed and muffled by his mask.

“No…” Abby was now on full alert, her brain jumping at any plausible conclusion.

Maybe they just like the style and want to know where she got it from?

“Do you realize this is stolen property?” Leon again, his kind voice shifting into one of suspect.


“No, sir… But I’m sure she didn’t know either!” Abby was now pulling away from the guards, her face warped into one of panic, cold beads of sweat rolling down her face.

“She isn’t the one on question. This was stolen from a courier on his way to the palace, he was killed early today.” Leon’s grip was iron around her wrist, his words gaining a similar metallic quality.

Abby’s thoughts froze, she was unable to move, and in her silence Leon continued.

“Do you realize you have blood on your hand?”

“Y-yes, it was from a bird! It pecked my lip, and I wiped it off!” Abby was clutching at a life saver, she knew the wound in her lip would prove this.

“Then where is the wound?” Leon was shaking his head by this point, and instead of waiting for an answer simply continued with another question.

“Will you take us to your house..?”

“Abby! My name is Abby! And yes, it’s just a few minutes’ walk from here”

Abby begun leading them back to her home after this admission, the guards speaking quietly amongst themselves and her hands gripped uncomfortably behind her back.

When they had finally reached the house, a masked guard opened it to a scene of normality, Lace was standing by the cooking pot stirring an unseen stew, her hair damp and body coated with a thin sheen of what could be oil or fat.

She looked up at the new appearances with an inquisitive glare, but her eyes lingered when they passed over Abby

“Sorry for the intrusion, but do you know this girl?” it was a masked guard that spoke and held Abby in the forefront of the group.

“No, should I?” Lace’s response was casual, and caused icy fingers to dig deep into Abby’s heart, coaxing silent tears to leak down her cheeks, and her throat to close up painfully

Lace… Was what I did that bad?

“She claims to be your sister, are you sure you don’t know her? If you say no she will go away under some serious charges,” it was Leon, his voice layered with concern.

“Sorry, but no,” Lace’s reply was curt and without emotion, sending even more icy shards to lodge into Abby’s heart.

“We will conduct a small search then leave, sorry for the intrusion Ma’am.” Even as Leon spoke the masked guards began searching the storeroom, and the suddenly empty room of her sister.

The room devoid of carpets sent a wave of nausea to wash over Abby, causing her muscles to go slack. She would have collapsed onto the ground if not for the fact the masked guard behind her kept her up, seeming impassive at the drops of tears dampening the wooden floor.

After the search was complete they left, Abby being dragged along in her limp state, tears flooding down her cheeks but her visage silent and her whole body numb.

The welcoming committee.

Abby was dragged without resistance through a cobbled street, her vision fixated on her feet, not allowing any of the large sun burnt yellow square houses to enter her vision.

When she was dragged down a grey stone corridor that seemed to appear out of nowhere she looked up dazed. She saw numerous unmasked guards sitting around large tables, or laying in beds, wearing little more than red tunics and black pants.

She was led through this room without comment and through a large, solid metal door before being thrown into the corner of a room walled with numerous steel bars which allowed her to see the three guards sitting around a table near the doorway, and the numerous other cells filled with bodies that although obviously undernourished were well groomed, long hair plaited and combed, pale skin well cleaned.

The entire place smelt like a well-tended bathhouse.

Her arrival was met with a few stares, but no comments. The guard that led her into it rested a hand comfortingly on her shoulder; it was Leon, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to argue your case to the Judges, but you have to understand the evidence is quite overwhelming.”

Abby’s eyes filled with tears at this and she screamed out in anguish, “I’m not guilty! I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

This outburst was followed by deep sobbing as she fell to her knees, her hands covering her face. Leon simply sighed heavily and walked out, locking her cell door behind him.

She fell asleep crying and woke up crouched over like a turtle, her knees and back were sore and her eyes swollen, she tentatively straightened up, stretching out her back before looking around at her surroundings.

Pressed against the wall of her cell near the cell doors rested a large, wooden tub with slowly steaming water, next to it lay a coarse horse hair brush, a small reed with bristled tips and two types of soap, one pink and one cream.

Abby felt perplexed by this and looked over at the other cells; her in-mates were as clean as they were when she first came in so she assumed they had bathed.

Am I meant to bathe too? In front of all these people?

Her suspicions were confirmed as one of the guards for the night post walked past and told her in a sympathetic tone before leaving.

“Sorry lass, I’m afraid we don’t have any private cell blocks for females, and the day-shift really doesn’t look kindly upon ill hygiene.”

Not wanting to bathe in front of any more people, or suffer the wrath of the guards she wasted little time in stripping off her grass and dirt stained clothes.

She dropped into the bath instantly after stripping, letting her perky B cups sink under the warm water, her pink areolas visible from under the water.

She leant over the side of the tub and picked up the reed brush and the white soap, quickly dunking both under the water to lather the tip with the soap before using it to brush her teeth, the taste oddly pleasant.

After this she left the wet tools by the bath and picked up the pink soap and horse hair brush, similarly wetting it before brushing over her face and back, then the rest of her body until she smelt like lavender and her skin shone with an oiled texture.

When done and the tools were lying by the bath she kneeled up and looked around her cell, a small frown crossing her features before she looked up at the man in the neighbouring cell.

“Do we get given new clothes?” She asked in a slightly perplexed voice.

The answer was a small nod from the pale, leanly muscled individual; he had grey hair combed down his back and along his chest that framed an angular, handsome face and dull green eyes that held a deep sorrow.

He held up an open palmed hand in a gesture of patience and sat down against the wall of his cell, eyes closed.

Abby had no choice but to wait so she sunk into the tub, thoughts racing with unforseen possibilities.

Her thoughts were silenced as three guards came in, each tall and well-built with broad jawlines and strong cheekbones.

They looked like they could be related if not for the fact the one in the middle had skin the colour of polished oak, whilst the other two were of a sun kissed white, the white men had eyes of sparkling blue and shoulder length hair of copper whilst the dark skinned man had short cropped raven black hair and piercing brown eyes.

She stared at the men with growing embarrassment and a darkening blush.

Each one wore long red tunics and held a short-sword sheathed by their sides, but none seemed to have any spare clothes for her.

“Aye! Look what we have here, fresh meat! What do you think Teo?” It was one of the fair skinned men.

“Too pale for my tastes, and look at her breasts! You have bigger ones Meren” The dark skinned man named Teo answered and slapped the first mans’ well-muscled chest with his right hand as if to emphasize his point.

Meren simply pushed the hand away with his left and walked towards the cell, stooping over to look Abby in the eyes, the closeness causing her to shy away into the water.

“She acts like the looks if you ask me, a water nymph if ever I saw one!”

The unnamed white man responded with a laugh and slapped his companions back with his left hand, “Why not kiss her and see if you can breathe underwater?”

To this Meren simply smiled and straightened up, walking over to the table where Teo had already sat himself.

“I just might, Jay, I just might.”

To this the one named Jay shook his head and sat down next to Meren, extending a left hand to grab an empty tankard before looking back at Abby with a smile of unreadable intent.

“Are you thirsty lass?”

To this Abby nodded, her stomach a bundle of nerves and a steadily creeping fear.

“Y-yes, sir… But I would do sooner with some clothes than some drink.”

To this both Teo and Meren laughed, shaking their heads with their mirth.

“You’ll have your clothes once you’ve proved you deserve them” It was the same man again that spoke, his eyes clouding with an expression new to Abby.

Before she could react to this sentence the three men stood up and sauntered over to her cell, led by the one named Jay, but her door was unlocked by Teo.

Soon after being unlocked the cell door was pressed against the far wall with an iron bar by Jay, whilst he was doing this Meren cups her chin in one hand, lifting her up slow enough for her to be able to reposition her legs.

Abby doesn’t think to protest until she feels his lips against her own, but once the contact is made she pounces backwards as if electrified, the movement landing her against the muscled chest of Teo.

This development wouldn’t have shocked her quite as much if she hadn’t noticed Teo’s tunic lying over by the cell wall, his well-defined stomach sending small sparks of ill bidden arousal from the girl.

Despite landing against the naked man, her first glimpse of ‘manhood’ was when Meren disrobed, just as well muscled as Teo if not quite as built he was a good figure of masculinity.

A fact that was only further defined when Abby’s eyes drifted downwards, over his muscled thighs and more importantly over his erect penis, standing at roughly 8 inches long and 0.5 thick, his pubes were trimmed and his golf-ball sized balls neatly shaven.

She looked away in a panic and tried to squirm against Teo, the movement only causing her damp ass cheeks to rub against his hardening length.

Oh… Fuck.

With a groan that imitated her thought she slumped down in Teo’s grasp, this motion coaxing him into lowering her by his feet, letting her see his monster of a cock, at least 9 inches long and 1.5 thick and shaven as well as Meren’s, it sent shivers of both fear and arousal through her.

She tried squirming away but already Meren had his hands locked around her ankles, and Teo had a similar grip around her wrists, the motion placing his large cock just above her face, narrowing her vision to little more than the veins pulsing under the dark skin of his cock.

She was ready to close her teeth over the side of his rod when he felt his knee press painfully into her forehead, eliciting a small whimper from her throat.

“If you were wondering why the people here are so silent, it’s because we had their tongues cut off when they bit or blabbed,” Teo’s voice was matter-of-fact and caused small tears to well up in Abby’s eyes.

Despite the threat her muscles were visibly contorting as she tried to free herself from the their grips, her hips rising and falling in her violent struggles, causing the sound of wet flesh hitting smooth stone to echo around the cell.

Her struggles did nothing but coax Jay forward to kneel by her side with his hands on her stomach, he was now as undressed as the rest of them, his completely shaved cock standing at roughly seven inches long and 1 wide.

Abby closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the utter helplessness of the situation.

Unfortunately that act of denial seemed to be the signal for Teo to clasp his hand over her mouth, two fingers pinching her nose.

She squirmed and bucked with renewed vigour, her face turning red from lack of oxygen, and as it slowly shifts to a purplish blue he unclasps her mouth, eliciting a loud gasping noise as she tries to gulp in the minutes’ worth of lost air.

An another unfortunate act, for as soon she opened her mouth she felt the smooth, hard flesh of Teo’s cock passing her lips and into her mouth, the salty, bitter taste invading her senses, and she barely resisted the urge to gag, even as a surprisingly sweet drop of precum drops onto her tongue and slides down her throat.

This penetration made her freeze, the previous threat hot in her ears as she waits for what will happen next.

She doesn’t have to wait long, after lowering his left hand to rest on her chin, the motion tilting her head back and simultaneously causing his thick fingers to painfully into the soft flesh in a silent threat.

Teo thrusts forwards instantly spreading her tight throat to the point that it bulges out obscenely, and tears spring to her eyes as she gags around the massive length.

With eyes streaming and throat convulsively milking his cock with spasms, she feels Teo thrust deeper within her distended throat, stopping only once his balls are resting warmly against her nose, blocking her vision and airways.

He begins thrusting within her at a steady pace that caused no more discomfort than the initial thrust other than the rather degrading feeling of having her nose and eyes slapped by his balls and the fact she can only breathe in with each outward motion.

As soon as she grows used to this she feels an unfamiliar prodding at her lower lips, unable to look down she simply tries to wrestle her legs away from Meren’s grip.

An act that was as successful as it was before, and seemed to coax him into sliding the tip of his cock within her, stretching her virgin walls uncomfortably.

The discomfort grows into a sharp pain as he impales her upon his member, her hymen cruelly torn and left to slowly leak crimson liquid from her violated hole as she screams around Teo’s cock, her muscles contorting uselessly as she tries to escape, tears streaming freely down into her hairline in the awkward position.

The next few minutes turns into a cacophony of pain and humiliation as the two men saw into her at a steady pace, little sound coming from them other than the light slap of flesh against flesh and the occasional gagging or choking noise from the girl.

A small grunt from Teo apparently signalled a change for she was lifted up and flipped-the motion causing the twin rods of flesh inside her to twist painfully within her.

In this new position Meren was lying under her, his hands resting on her breasts and keeping her torso high enough so that Teo’s thrusts didn’t affect him.

This change of position wouldn’t of affected her in the least if it wasn’t for Jay shifting positions to rest behind her, his cock noticeably spreading her ass cheeks before smearing the crack with warm, thick precum that gave him lubrication as he slowly forced his thick length into her virgin tail-hole.

The new penetration grants renewed screams from her as his cock forces its way deeper inside her, and then begins thrusting.

These movements are echoed by the other two men in a rhythm that eventually numbs the pain.

This would continue for close to half an hour before in an act of what she thinks of as well practised teamwork they all hilted inside her, the motion causing her to almost sit up straight due to Meren trying to get Teo’s cock away from his own face as they fill her with hot, thick cum, the sensation of being filled almost pleasurable despite the fact she can feel her womb and stomach being bloated.

Once done Teo instantly pulls back, followed by Jay and Meren, leaving Abby to curl up on the ground, her ass and pussy leaking small streams of cum onto the cold concrete and her throat red raw and stretched.

Seeds of hope and seeds of pain.

Abby remained curled up naked and feeling thoroughly abused until the end of their shift, drifting in and out of sleep.

When the next shift of guards came in they exchanged glances of pity but did nothing, fortunately for Abby just before they were to be swapped over again Leon came in, eyes bright but features haggard and drawn, he was draped in a shiny ceremonial chainmail that was stained red and held the imprint of a black cats paw on the front.

He carried with him a large platter of roast vegetables and steamed pork which he almost dropped when he saw the girl curled up on herself and stained with cum.

Without sparing a glance at the guards he hastily put down the food and opened the cell door, rushing over to lift the half-asleep girl into his lap, in response Abby only groaned as she was forced to straighten out.

“Who did this to you?! Tell me!” His voice was insistent and filled with concern, but it only got a small shake of the head from Abby.

Her fears of having her tongue cut off outweighed her trust in the guard that arrested her by multitudes, such a fact would change though as the shift of the guards swapped over, and the familiar faces of Meren, Jay and Teo emerged traced with fear at the sight of the captain.

Leon looked back with a fire in his eyes, and after placing Abby down softly he stood up to his full height, which was a good head taller than the other men, and after taking three steps forward he closed the distance between them.

Teo was the first to snap to reality, straightening his back he saluted with his right hand and thumped his left chest before standing statue-like ahead of him.

The other two men were only seconds behind, but their frames shook with hidden fear and tension.

Leon gave them a disdainful glare and growled in a voice too low for Abby to hear.

“If this happens again you will be sent to the conquest in Na’ula as spearmen. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, captain!” All three men responded in slightly shaky voices.

Leon walked back to Abby’s cell and put the food in front of her before patting her left shoulder with his right in an attempt to be comforting as he whispers.

“I’ll be back within the hour, hang in until then.”

And with that said he left.

Whilst he was gone the three men were quiet by the table, occasionally glancing over at Abby or whispering in hushed tones, but for the most part silence reigned.

Leon returned after well over an hour, reeking of sweat and skin shining dully with the perspiration, behind him waltzed an elderly man dressed in a long red robe.

His features were wrinkled and mostly hidden by a large silver beard that hung down to his stomach, but his grey eyes were kindly and thick eyebrows creased into a frown at the sight of the young girl, in his left hand he held a large black satchel.

“What happened to the fledgling? This is an Imperial prison, not some dungeon of debauchery!” His voice rang with the timbre of a much younger man, the volume such that it made the three guards flinch.

Leon replied in a hushed tone and went to open the cell, allowing the elderly man in.

The elderly man knelt down by the curled form of Abby, the satchel lain to the side as the gnarled fingers of his right hand gently prodded and poked along her bare flesh, eliciting small whimpers every now and then.

After about a minute of this he barked at Leon, “lay her out flat on her back, hold her still”

Leon knelt down on the other side of her, knees resting in the dried semen as he gently pushed her down by the shoulders with his right hand, his left holding her legs down just under the knees.

These movements caused new tears to spring up in her eyes, her stomach and internal organs feeling torn as she spreads out, the feeling doesn’t lessen as the old man begins prodding at her stomach, causing her to inwardly wince.

These pokes an prods were soon over, replaced instead by Leon helping her up into a sitting position, his right arm resting around her back, his left softly holding her hand.

She was thankful for the comfort, especially when the old man pushed her head back softly with his left hand and poured a thick, bitter substance down her throat from a black glassed vial in his right.

Abby choked and spluttered but the old man held her lips closed and her nostrils together, forcing her to swallow heavily and shortly after drift off into a dreamless sleep.

She awoke to a welcome sight; it was the hot water tub with the hygiene utensils and a large plate full of baked potatoes and carrots, she quickly hopped into the tub and had a quick wash, brushed her teeth and ate.

The rest of the day, and most other days were monotonous, once day Leon would come in and make her drink a foul smelling liquid to stop the pains, then he would leave.

Each day he was looking more worn and haggard, and each day the guards grew bolder, occasionally seeing fit to yell abuse at her or use one of her inmates how they used her.

This would continue for close to a month, in which the pains would grow to the point she would need two doses of the foul smelling liquid, but that wasn’t the biggest development; during one change of the guards she snatched up pieces of a conversation from the unnamed guards.

“I’ve heard she has until Sunday,” said one guard, tall and burly with a gruff voice.

“Doubtful, she killed one of the kings’ couriers and bled him dry. Do you really think he’ll let her sit here for another week? I give it a day,” the other guard was shorter, slimmer and had a distinct northern accent.

“There is doubt she did such thing she’s but a small girl, not even capable of fending of guardsmen, let alone a kings’ courier,” the taller one gained irritation to his tone.

“Aye, nobody has yet to argue that point, but the evidence is overwhelming,” the shorter man gained a placating attitude, letting one hand rest on his companions elbow.

The two men would then walk out of earshot, leaving Abby cradled in the far corner with her knees by her chest she stared wide eyed down at her feet, her thoughts racing at this sudden development but her emotions dulled and hidden by shock.

It would take her an hour before sleep would come, her dreams wild and vivid.

She was being led to a large wooden stadium by a faceless guard, she was squirming and trying to leap out of the iron grip he had around her biceps, but all of this was in vain though and did little to stop him placing her above a wooden trap-door in the middle of the stadium.

She was suddenly frozen in fear, staring out at a pool of smiling faces that eagerly awaited her fate, even when the rough rope was strung around her neck she was unable to move.

The ground suddenly gave way under her and she screamed, and she awoke sharply to an impenetrable darkness, the usual crisp smell of well washed bodies was replaced by a sharp metallic tang that hurt her nose and lungs to breathe in.

The pains in her stomach were tearing through her, she needed the medication but she didn’t dare scream for the silence held with it a dark foreboding that chilled her blood.

Unable to move due to the pain and unwilling to scream, she could do little more than stare as a fiery light bathed the corner of the cell she was in, the source was from the solid metal door that guarded the entrance to the prison cells, the thick metal was alight like metal just out of the forge.

And just like metal out of the forge it was abruptly hammered, the heated metal bulging out and dripping down from the bulge like molten flowing down a hill… When viewed from above.

The metal door was struck five more times, one in each corner and one more in the middle, before the colour would take on a blinding quality, forcing Abby to look down as the metal melted down the steps, abruptly cooling down when the being behind it lost contact, forming a metallic sheen over the previously worn stone stairs.

They were once again bathed in darkness, the progress of the figure only determined by a sound akin to metal scraping across metal, the smell from before almost disappears by the time the cell to her door is open, but returns with a vengeance when the mysterious figure picks her up and carries her in the crook of what she assumes to be an arm.

In too much pain to protest and too scared to scream, she let herself be carried up the stairs, the odd sound of metal scraping metal returning, but is pushed from her mind as she takes in the scene in the guard house.

Bodies were strewn over tables, beds and the floor, their facials fixed in multiple stages of anger, fear or sorrow.

The only thing they all seemed to share was the fact they all had a perfectly clean cut through their necks, allowing their heads to hang back and bare bloodless pink flesh and the outline of their spine jutting out of the torn flesh like a bridge connecting their heads to their bodies.

Abby stared at this impassively; she knew not these faces and had seen much death before now, the only thing that struck her as odd was the lack of blood.

A surge of triumph would course through her, the emotion catching her by surprise despite the fact she was staring at the bodies of Meren, Teo, and Jay, all huddled together near a table with their hamstrings sliced and a single clean cut through their jugulars, that gaped open in a gruesome smile, the droplets of blood forming crimson fangs.

It was odd that they weren’t killed like the others, but odder still that a pool of their own blood was pooling under them and trickling down their necks.

She was dimly aware of the fact she should look away and see the person that was carrying her, but turning her head would reignite the currently dulled pains and besides, two other familiar faces were pushed together.

A silver beard matted with blood hid the wound she knew was there, and next to him was Leon, body run through with his own sword, bloodless like the rest and staring blankly at the floor.

The sight of the elderly man did little to stir her emotions, but the sight of Leon sent a small stab of pain through her own heart, the slight emotion acting as a doorway to pull her out of the shock she went into with seeing the bodies strewn over the floor.

The shock that stopped her from doing what she did next; passing out against the arm that held her up.

End of pain, foundations of torment.

For the second time Abby woke up to a scene she didn’t expect, but unlike the darkness of the dungeon this was a pleasant surprise.

She was lying down on a soft white mattress and draped with thick, black and purple blankets, her arms were spread out by her sides, brushing against red velvet pillows, and her legs were spread out below her.

Painted on the ceiling was a mural of a familiar fantastical landscape that sent chills down her spine.

She simply stared up at the odd painting, trying to place where she had seen it before when the pains came back stronger than they ever had been before, causing her muscles to lock up and for her to let out a choked whimper as her tears began to flow freely down the sides of her face.

She stayed like this for an unknown amount of time until the sun began to shine in glaringly from the small slitted windows decorating the part of the wall where the yellow, sand washed stone met the mural.

Moments after the light forced her to close her eyes she heard a figure entering from a door she hadn’t seen, drop something heavy and come rushing over to her.

The light is blessedly shielded from her eyes as the figure kneels by her, allowing her to open her eyes and look up into the worried, ebony eyes of her saviour.

The sight of the woman caused a whimper to escape Abby, not because of the pain nor because of the fact she was stunningly beautiful, but because of the fact she looked identical to her sister, Lace.

Her raven black hair was longer, combed neatly away from her face and flowing down her back, and her ivory skin a few shades lighter, but it was definitely her.

The Lace look-alike showed no signs of recognition as she urgently began to probe at the younger girl with the middle and little fingers of both hands, starting at her neck and slowly making their way down to her upper stomach, at which point Abby let out a strangled scream.

With a sympathetic murmur and a knowing look in her eyes she knelt over the younger girl until her lips were within an inch of Abby’s ear.

“Without proper treatment you will begin… Rotting from the inside, it is a painful way to go but I can make it stop, but first you have to explicitly give me permission to change your being, and you must mean it!” her voice was hesitant and catchy, as if she didn’t think that any good would come out of any answer she gave.

Abby clutched at the straw of hope, and mustering all her strength she was able to get her vocal cords to obey her.

“I… Give you, permission to-AGH!-change my being!!” Her voice was strangled and tainted with pants and half buried screams, but clear.

As soon as the last word left her mouth the other lady cupped her right cheek in her left hand, forcing her to look into her dark eyes, dark eyes that seemed to go on forever… Abby soon lost herself within those eyes, the pain and the room fading into non-existence, her reverie only pierced by the oddly cold feeling of the woman’s hand on her cheek, and the calm, steady sound of her voice.

“The pain is gone, you are calm, relaxed… My name is Delilah, you trust me and you will remain still until I say otherwise…”

What she said was true, Abby was indeed relaxed, too relaxed to move, she trusted this being that looked like Lace with all her heart, why wouldn’t she?

These thoughts went sluggishly through her head as Delilah slowly shifted herself so she’s sliding under the blanket, becoming little more than a feeling of cool, wet lips and velvety smooth cold fingers tracing down the bare flesh of her stomach, and then her thighs.

Abby wondered idly why she was naked, or what Delilah was doing, but it didn’t matter much to her. She trusted her too much to question her methods, and besides, it felt good.

The last part of her argument would only strengthen as the cool lips brushed against the delicate lips of her flower, followed smoothly by a tongue that felt like melting ice and left a trail of cold saliva against her smooth flesh where it teased, and traced the puffed up mounds of her sex.

Abby was too relaxed to let out a moan, but the slowly leaking nectar of her pussy declared her arousal loud and clear, not that the other lady really needed such a sign for her tongue was already delving deep within the orange haired girls folds.

Delilah explored her depths with probing licks and curling flicks that left Abby moaning softly and her pussy squeezing around the still cold tongue, building up to a slow climax.

Icy fingers began to slide up the inner left thigh of Abby’s leg, their touch sending small chills of pleasure that contrasted to the constant velvety pleasure provided by the tongue.

The slow progress to her climax would suddenly be broken when the raven haired girl tilts her head to the side, her tongue dragging up the silken depths of Abby’s left wall before disappearing from touch, replaced instead by the feeling of plump lips and sharp teeth.

Normally having the edge of her pussy nibbled on caused small sparks of panic to stab through her, however due to the trust she had in her companion, the sensation simply sent small waves of pleasure through her, small waves that abruptly stopped when the contact was lost.

“Sorry, but a bite here would change you significantly… But don’t worry, you’ll only lose a little of the pleasure that may of come,’ Delilah’s voice was little more than a silken purr as she lets her lips graze against Abby’s inner left thigh.

The words had little to no meaning to Abby, but she enjoyed the sound of her voice. It reminded her of Lace, and in her current state her heart warmed at the memory of her sister, cooling the ice that had coated her heart since the night she was abandoned.

Seconds after the words had left the other ones mouth she felt the sharp teeth of her companions teeth graze up her thigh, a pleasurable feeling that didn’t come close to what came next.

Delilah made sure to bite exactly three inches down the girls’ thigh, too much further and it would just be a bite, and any closer the girl risked ‘infection’.

After judging the distance was correct she let her teeth slowly sink into the soft flesh, creasing it and finally cutting cleanly through it like the edges of tiny daggers, the small movement created two effects, one was to coax a stream of sweet, sanguine liquid to flow into her mouth and down her throat, the other was to inject a light stream of venom into the girls thigh from her incisors.

The mixed sensations of her blood flowing out and an icy substance flowing in caused Abby’s muscles to lock up, knowing she isn’t meant to move but unable to stop the reflexive motion as her pussy spasms and leaks a copious amount of thick, clear liquid onto the bed sheets.

Her orgasm would last four long minutes, in which the other lady would slowly emerge from under the blanket, her skin flushed, lips coated with a dark crimson and hair streaked with orange.

Abby’s last sight before drifting into sleep would be a face that looks identical to her own, save for a more delicate visage and dark eyes.

Murderer, Thief, Saviour.

Abby woke up sluggishly; the sun was low and the light in the room pale and comforting.

The first thing she would notice would be a woman sitting cross legged next to her, her hands resting in her lap and her face tilted towards Abby.

She was dressed in a plain black dress that hid all save for her handsomely featured face, decorated with dark ebony eyes and fiery orange hair.

Abby blinked twice, meeting the persons stare before sitting up slowly, so as to imitate the others posture.

The only clear differences Abby saw was the richer colouring of her hair and the slightly more delicate features, but before she could say anything the other spoke in a voice eerily like her own.

“I am still Delilah, but unfortunately the act that saved you, did this. Now I’m sure you have questions, but one at a time please.”

Abby slowly digested this, her usual impatience gone, her thoughts clearer. She thought of asking if this figure meant her harm, but figured if she did there was little she could do to stop her, and so settled on the next most pressing question.

“What are you?” She asked it politely, her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“A vampire, one breed of many that are scattered across this plain,” her answer was short, curt but not impolite.

Abby once again digested this for a few seconds, but her next question was a simple one and came out with no lack of politeness or intrigue.

“How does your breed differ than the breed well known to the masses?”

To this Delilah’s lips quirked up into a small smile, her voice tainted with a tone of slight superiority.

“My breed is more in-tune to the life force than many, because of such we are able to operate during the day and our feeding habits leave a more… Intimate mark on our physical bodies.”

Abby took a few minutes to filter through the questions she wished to ask, and the questions she must ask.

“You bit my sister, Lace. I wish to know why,” the polite tone was gone from her voice, replaced instead by a slight barb as the icy pain clutched her heart anew.

“We were consorts,” Delilah’s answer was short and curt once again.

“Why did she forget about me afterwards?” Abby had tears in her eyes as she asked, but her voice remained firm.

Delilah took a minute to process this, her features impassive.

“I’m afraid that was me, your sister reacted… Badly to our last session, and has been missing ever since,” Delilah’s tone was truly apologetic by this point, despite how her features remained stony.

“Why did you let me get arrested, is Lace ok?” Abby could barely stop herself from screaming or crying at this point, but managed to keep most of the quiver out of her voice.

“Lace is ok; she will seek you out when she’s ready to mingle with society… And rather simply, I had no idea who you were, other than being a pervert of course,” the apologetic tone had left, replaced instead by one laced with humour.

“And the tapestry, the rugs, the courier?” Abby’s voice had lowered, shock numbing the pain.

“Missing, burnt, buried,” Delilah obviously wasn’t eager to elaborate on this, her eyes closing as if fatigued.

“You killed him, and stole the tapestry. Why did you let me leave with it? Why did you want it?” Abby was close to tears again, barely resisting the urge to throttle her look-alike.

“I didn’t realize you had it, and I wished to find a map that is hidden within it.”

With this impassively said sentence she abruptly turned on the bed and began walking towards a door built of the same stone of the surrounding walls, it faded at the woman’s approach and just before she walked out of the doorway she turned.

“You must leave by tonight, you are no longer to be executed but you still have a bounty on your head,” and with that said she walked out.

Torment or madness?

What happened after the vampire left was a blur to Abby, she remembered crying for many hours and eventually falling asleep, but her current surroundings didn’t attest to that fact.

She was curled up into a small ball near a stone well, lying down on a small well-trodden dirt path that was surrounded by well-maintained pale green grass.

She was draped in a long red tunic that was stained with dirt and an odd crimson substance near the collar and along the legs.

She stood up slowly on wobbly legs, her head was pounding and the tunic kept threatening to slip off her small shoulders, forcing her to keep her left hand clasped around the collar of the tunic as she stumbled away from the well, the warning of having a bounty long since forgotten.

She stumbled down wide cobbled streets, past large yellow buildings, smaller grey ones and finally into a densely packed market street, complete with wooden market stands and the occasional stone building that marked either a brothel or a tavern.

She almost vomited at the smell of so many close packed bodies, and in turn the bodies seemed to move out of her way, their owners eager to get away from the small girl that swayed drunkenly and smelt like blood and vomit.

Continuing with her unsteady gait for close to an hour she heard many snippets of conversation about guards murdered and an escaped convict, she payed these little mind however, simply following a little voice in her head that urged her down many different streets, and finally stopped in front of what appeared to be a bathhouse.

She had no idea what to do from this point and her head was throbbing loud enough to force her to her knees now that she had no purpose, her hands falling limply by her sides as she sobbed silently, tears cascading down her cheeks to land on the red tunic.

She wasn’t there long before the feeling of a familiar hand dropped onto her right shoulder, coaxing her into looking up at a well-washed and clean shaven version of Leon.

The sight of the man she saw dead less than two days ago made her eyes go wide, forcing her to try and stumble backwards, tripping over the long tunic as she let out a loud, high pitched scream and abruptly passed out… Yet again.

When she awoke it was on her stomach in a dimly lit cell block, but unlike the previous one the bars were only the gate, and her room was furnished with a small stone bed draped with thin blankets, a hole in the ground that she assumed was the toilet and, a bucket of green laced water that smelt putrescent.

Her initial reaction to all this was to push herself onto her hands and knees, the act revealing she had on a virgin white gown that fit perfectly and felt like silk, her initial joy at this turned to confusion when compared to her cell, and suspicion as she crawled to the bars, peering out at what appeared to be imitations of her own cell.

The inhabitants of the other cells were lanky and unwashed, gender was determined by if they had a beard or not decorating their hollowed out faces and skeletal frames.

The sight of them intrigued her until the man opposite her charged the bars, causing a loud wet crunching noise to be audible where his skull smashed into the unyielding metal.

He seemed not to care about this development in the least; instead he thrust his left hand out to point at Abby, his eyes gleaming with manic glee.

“IT IS HER!! THE WRAITH OF THE ILL-BEGOTTEN QUEEN HAS COME BACK TO THROW THE KINGDOM INTO CHAOS ONCE AGAIN!” His voice was as manic as his facial and echoed along the once silent corridor.

His screaming was met by much jeering and applauding, that is until a steady stream of blood leaked from his cracked skull, down the steel bar and into his line of vision.

At this he jumped back, going ghostly white and pointing at the bar as if it was the embodiment of his darkest fears.

“THE METAL IS ALIVE!! It bleeds as would a man!” His voice was lost to Abby after this as he turns to scribble odd runes into the walls of his cell.

She leaves him to his ramblings and chooses to sit cross legged in front of her cell, awaiting a guard of some sorts to help her.

Her wait doesn’t last long, within the hour an elderly man begins walking down the corridor, he’s draped in a grey robe and is decorated by a long, black beard, bald head, wrinkled sunken features and a hump on his back that forces him to bend over a small wooden cane for support.

He stops by Abby’s cage and stares down at her, his eyes milky but filled with intelligence.

“You are not going to try and attack me from the cells?” His voice was clear and unperturbed by age.

In response Abby simply shakes her head, distinct confusion clouding her features.

“Do you know why you are here?” His tone had gained a condescending element, yet remained kindly.

To this she once again shook her head, thinking it was easier than trying to talk through the lump growing in her throat.

The old man shook his head slowly and took a deep breath before beginning his speech.

“You are here because you assaulted and killed three guardsmen before escaping into the night, you were then found a month later by an off duty guard outside a bathhouse wearing one of the deceased guards uniforms. Do you remember this?”

Abby’s eyes grew wide as she thought over the implications, the more she thought the less she was unable to resist the urge to scream until finally she lunged at the cages, her hands gripping the cold steel and tears streaming down her face.

“It wasn’t me! The vampire did it! She killed them all, and burnt down the metal door and took me with her! Leon was dead, I saw it!” The rest of her story was drowned in sobs as she collapsed onto her knees with her head resting against the bars.

This outburst triggered little more than a sympathetic shake of the old man’s head.

“Leon is quite alive, my dear. As is everyone else other than the three you assaulted, now don’t worry Leon made it perfectly clear what happened previously, a month of being raped daily would drive many of us to do those acts, and in an act of kindness His Grace has spared you from execution”

To this Abby simply whimpered, and looked back up at the man with a tear streaked face.

“But they stopped after Leon… And then she… I remember it all; she looked like my sister and she killed them all…”

The old man once again shook his head sadly.

“You never had a sister, let alone a vampiric one. You were abandoned on the steps of the Imperial church and were raised by the priestesses, after which you escaped into the farmlands surrounding the city, killed a courier and well… I’ve told you the rest.”

Abby shook her head rapidly, her hair flinging against the bars as she did so, unable to let out any vocal protests over her heavy sobbing.

The old man would eventually leave and she would eventually fall asleep. Only to be awoken with a yelp by a bucket of icy water thrown over her head by a passing guard.

She was about to question him when she saw the process repeated by another guard to the man in the cell across from hers, she assumed this was what accounted for hygiene here and didn’t protest.

She occupied her time by lying back on the cold ground and counting cracks in the roof above her, when she grew bored of that she began exercising, doing small laps of her cell intermingled with sit-ups, squats, push-ups and any other type of exercise she could think of.

Her first meal arrived a few hours later and consisted of green slop and a mouldy piece of bread in a bowl which she ate gingerly.

She fell asleep later on the bed and awoke covered in small itchy lumps from where bugs had transferred from the blanket and onto her, she scratched at these furiously but found little release.

The next day, long after her meal she tried to drink some of the water, the result giving her violent diarrhoea for the next few days, which resulted in her drinking more of the disgusting water and so on.

In between her stomach aches she continued to exercise, seeking the pain as release.

She fell asleep at random intervals, and was never asleep long before an icy bucket of water was thrown on her.

This continued for four weeks, in which she had gained considerable muscle tone, her hair had grown longer and her stomach constantly felt weak. That coupled with the numerous itchy bites and burning rashes lacerating her and the fact her only hygiene came from the icy cold buckets thrown at her once she had fallen asleep led her facials to become haggard and drawn out.

Her white robes were soaked with sweat, dirt and blood, her cell smelt like faecal matter and her teeth constantly ached.

At the end of the four weeks she felt ravenous, and her mind constantly itched, causing her to have random violent outbursts which led to more than one broken knuckle.

But this day isn’t worth mentioning because of that, the reason it’s singled out is because the monotony broke, although it broke in an unpleasant way.

Led by an excessively tall and muscled guard with broad features, deep set brown eyes and similarly coloured hair was a group of five men.

Each one was dressed in a uniform dark green, their features blurred under white veils.

They each held a long stick in which they used to poke at passive in-mates until they lunged at the bars or until the guard stopped them.

When they stopped at Abby’s cell she instantly jumped to the end of the cells, desperately crying out for food or help, rambling about the vampire, her sister and the dead guards.

This provoked little more than laughing and a cautious step back from her cell before walking off when it grew boring.

This, like everything else eventually became a part of the daily ritual, reducing her to doing little more than sleep when there wasn’t food, her stomach wasn’t rejecting food or when she wasn’t being stabbed or water thrown on her.

Saviour from Madness, or Madness: the saviour?

This had gone on for well over six months before something new happened, and as with everything else new, this was unexpected.

It was a bird, sitting on the water bucket in her cell.

And not just any bird, but a familiar bird, coloured with brown and black spots, long black tail feathers and elongated talons that dug into the wood of the bucket.

It stared at her with bright yellow eyes, its beak dripping with a scarlet liquid, and for her part she stared back at it with mild confusion from where she sat squatting on her stone bed.

They simply stared at each other until the bird broke the silence, in a way most unusual for a bird, it spoke, in a lilting, feminine accent that carried an air of authority.

August 2018
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