Slave Lover Page 2

  Constance’s cunt was now running freely and the air was pungent with the smell of her copious secretions. A steady slurping sound smacked between her thighs. And a constant series of groans and sighs escaped her lips. She could feel tremors up and down her legs and a deep melting in her belly. Her asshole, sore from the previous fucking, began to yearn for more penetration and she felt herself pushing the anus out, silently pleading to be entered.

  She so totally forgot herself that at one point she tried to buck her pelvis forward, to assist the man in his violent treatment of her tender pussy. But she could not move even a quarter of an inch. She was perfectly pinned and could do nothing but let the man have his way with her. She could hear him grunting and cursing and imagined what a sight she made for his hungry eyes. A young beautiful woman completely helpless, her cunt an open prize for his hands and tongue and cock, her tits bound, the nipples tortured by nipple clips. For an instant she was able to identify with him and it caused a ripple of vicarious pleasure to join the sensations she was already feeling. Without having any conscious design in the matter, she slipped suddenly over the brink into orgasm and heard herself shouting as she came.

  And above her own noises, she heard the high-pitched maniacal laughter of the man.

  “All right, bitch, here it comes,” he yelled.

  And then pulled his four fingers out and bunched them into a fist and thrust the fist with all his force into the yielding, slick and spongy tissue of her cunt. She cried out with terrible pain. But he did not pause for a split second. The fist exploded inside her. She came to the very edge of passing out, but did not make it into unconsciousness. She hung there for a very long time, not knowing whether she would be able to breathe or not. He did not move. It was a moment of almost unbearable intimacy. He held her at the brink of death, it seemed, and so she was totally dependent on him, had to bear him good will, had to keep him in good spirits. And he was at a point of penetration that very few men ever experience with any woman. And she could not see him.

  When the vaginal walls began to recover from the immense trauma and started to relax, they stretched over his fist. The very tiny serrated opening of her cunt was stretched to an obscene width around his wrist. Without wanting it, she made a very tiny adjustment of her pelvis, tilting her cunt up toward him an infinitesimal fraction of an inch.

  “OK, baby,” the man said. “Now you get it good.”

  And with those words, he began to move his fist. First he twisted it around, and then he pulled it back an inch and pushed it forward. The sensations Constance felt were indescribable, far and beyond anything she had ever known in her life. It was as though an enormous cock was filling her entire body, going from her cunt to her brain. She swooned with the overwhelmingness of it.

  Then he began to punch-fuck her. He pounded his fist into her cervix hard enough to bruise it, but not hard enough to damage it. He drew his fist back until it filled the opening to her pussy, until that tiny hole stretched to its maximum width and left Constance in a profound flurry of surrender, and then crashed forward, the entire fist erupting inside her in a single violent thrust. He punched her again and again, a score of times, a hundred times, a thousand times, until her pussy was punch-drunk with pain and pleasure. At moments it felt as though he was inside her up to his forearm. At other times he seemed to be raging unrestrictedly, his fist twisting and turning inside her.

  She was long past the paltry experience known as orgasm. The man was taking her to a place which transcended all definitions. She had become pure, vibrant life, the electricity sizzling up and down her spine, exploding in her brain. Her legs and arms had become antennae sensitive to all the cosmic currents slicing through the illusion of solidity presented by the thing we call matter because our organs of perception are too gross to see the true energy dance beneath the appearance.

  It was beyond sex, beyond orgasm, beyond LSD, beyond any mystical experience she had ever known. It was the pure realization of naked life knowing itself as naked life, awesome, mysterious, and eternal.

  And at the very peak of that awareness, the man pulled his fist out with brutal abruptness. All at once she became a pit of empty despair, a black hole of infinite emptiness, howling its loneliness to the stars.

  “Ooohhhhhhhhh . . .” Constance wailed.

  Her cunt was a gaping wound, wide, red, pulsing wildly, like a ravenous, toothless mouth sucking for food, a blind fish’s mouth, or an infant’s mouth, or the mouth of a very old woman.

  “Ooohhhhhhhhhh . . .” she cried and her mournful cry seemed to reach to the very sky.

  “Man oh man, is she busted wide,” the man who had been fist-fucking her said.

  “Look at that,” another man added.

  “You could drive a truck through that cunt,” a third man chimed in.

  “Ohhh,” Constance moaned.

  “Want something, baby?” the first man sneered.

  “Gi . . . gi . . . giv . . . give . . . it . . . to . . . me . . .” she gasped.

  “Want my fist? Want my big fist up your juicy cunt?”

  Constance was in a decided dilemma. A few hours earlier she had been a normal woman with a normal sex life. Then she had been abducted and drugged, and within a very short time had found herself enjoying being fucked in the ass for the first time in her life, and then being fist-fucked to the point where, suddenly, she knew she would not be able to do without the experience again. She wanted it, and wanted it badly, and wanted it at once. And all her pride rose up at having to admit it to someone who was intent on tormenting her, a sadist who had paid to abuse a bound and blindfolded woman. But she had no choice. The man was waiting for an answer.

  “I’m waiting for an answer,” the man said as though reading her mind.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “Yes what?” he prodded.

  “Yes, I want you to shove your big fist up my juicy cunt,” she said.

  The man chuckled. Constance felt his fingers trailing up and down her crotch, his hot, lewd fingers casually stroking her most intimate parts. The sheer shamelessness of it all brought an unaccustomed blush to her cheeks.

  “Let’s try this first,” he said, and insinuated one finger into her asshole.

  Constance sucked her breath in. The sensation was sharp and unexpected, and not without an edge of pleasure around the initial burst of pain. He withdrew it and she felt his hand return to smear a huge glob of warm lubricant between her ass cheeks. He tamped it inside her and then, rudely, shoved three fingers into the puckered hole. The pain was intense and she tried to pull away but she could not budge an inch. Instead, she let out a loud howl of protest. The only reaction to that was mirthless laughter.

  “Loosen up, sweetheart,” the man said, “because I ain’t gonna stop till I got my fist up your pretty little ass. I wanna prove that fags ain’t the only people that can do it.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “You can’t. I can’t. You’ll kill me. You’ll tear me apart.”

  In response he pulled out his three fingers, giving her a second’s respite and then shoved four in. She let out another wild cry, but she noticed that it had a shade more drama than actuality in it for indeed she was loosening up and the insertion of four fingers did not cause noticeably more discomfort than three had a few minutes earlier. He twisted his hand and twirled the fingers around in her asshole. She lay there, bound, open, spread wide for his use, and could do nothing but push down to try to relax the opening to save herself damage, but in the process gave him the pleasure and satisfaction of watching her open to him, and further began to experience no little amount of pleasure herself.

  “Oh my God, I’m beginning to enjoy it,” she said to herself.

  The man pulled his fingers out and paused. She knew what would come next and she hung in the balance between fear and desire. She was terrified at the possibility and yet her heart beat in expec
tation at such an outrageous act, something she would never have ordinarily even thought of trying.

  He slipped the five fingers of his hand, brought together in a point, into her asshole. And he pushed straight in right up to the line of the first knuckle. With someone at liberty to move, he would have had to pace himself, but since Constance was perfectly bound, he could go as quickly as he liked. He pushed further until all his fingers were in up to the second knuckle. Constance was at the breaking point and felt as though he must tear her apart.

  “Take a deep breath,” he said.

  She did, and squeezed her eyes tight. Then, with a single abrupt gesture, he curled his fingers under, balling the entire hand into a fist, and thrusting forward at the same time. In a single fluid movement, he had slipped his entire fist into her asshole.

  Her first and overwhelming reaction was one of profound and complete rapture. She had never known anything so absolutely wonderful in her life. It provided a sensation so unique, so fantastic, so far beyond anything she had imagined possible, that she was amazed that everyone wasn’t doing it all the time. She wanted to spread her legs even wider but her ropes didn’t allow for movement in any direction.

  The man divined her feeling however, for he shoved his fist forward. His arm disappeared into her bowels and was swallowed up to the elbow. The asshole allowed of far deeper penetration than the cunt, as many homosexuals have discovered, and Constance was treated to the full opening. The man pulled back until his fist was at the very rim of her asshole, held it there a second and then plunged in again past his forearm.

  He fist-fucked her for a half hour until she was giddy and ready to believe that she had died and gone to heaven. All the other considerations of her life disappeared, her name, her age, her work, in short, her entire identity dissolved and merged into the volcanic sensations produced by the action of a man’s large fist and arm frothing in and out of her asshole with wild abandon.

  And when she thought that nothing more could be imagined or felt, he called another man over.

  “Get one in her cunt and we’ll fist-fuck her in both holes at the same time.”

  Constance’s soul shuddered, but when the second man began working his way into her cunt, she yielded with surprising ease, and it was less than a minute before he was completely inside her. Then both men went at her with gusto, and practically shook hands through the thin membrane which separate cunt from colon. They shoved their fists into her like a baker kneading dough. Sometimes they alternated and sometimes went in and out together. In the first instance, the ripples were like the wakes of boats passing one another in a lake. In the second instance she felt as though a huge log were being roughly shoved into her belly and sucked out again leaving her wistful and hollow.

  There seemed to be no more that could be added on, but just when the extraordinary condition of being simultaneously fist-fucked in cunt and ass by two different men was beginning to lose its novelty, a third man climbed on top of the table and shoved his thick, hard cock into her mouth. The tip was already slimy with preseminal fluid and her first taste of him was that salty tang. He bore down hard and slid his cock deep into her throat causing her to gag. As she gagged, her cunt convulsed and her asshole tightened, making each of the men at the other end exclaim in wonder.

  “Pussy’s fighting back,” said one.

  “Asshole’s getting hungry,” said the other.

  And they redoubled their efforts, punch-fucking her holes until they were once again battered into passivity. But then the man at her head shoved his cock into her throat again, and again she convulsed and tightened involuntarily, and again the other two men beat her physiology into submission. That formed the new pattern, and Constance became a single, raw muscle, an exposed nerve, played on by three men who found their mutual validation by using the woman as conduit for their energies.

  “I don’t know where I am or what this is about or how it’s going to turn out,” she said to herself, “but one thing I do know. I’m round the bend. Something inside me has snapped and I’ll never be able to go back to anything like a normal sex life, not after experiencing this!”

  The man at her head finally came, his sperm splashing on her tongue and oozing down her throat. He held his cock there until she had swallowed every drop, and then even longer until she had licked it clean.

  “My arm’s getting tired,” said the man with his fist in her asshole.

  “Want to fuck her?” said the first man.

  “I want her to suck me off,” the second man replied.

  He crawled up on the table and slipped his cock into her mouth and held it there.

  “I done enough work on you, honey,” he said, “now you do some.”

  “Fair enough,” Constance said. “But I can’t move my head.”

  “Use your tongue and suck a lot,” he replied.

  And that is what she did. While he kept his cock in place, she licked the head over and over again, and clamped her lips over the shaft and sucked and sucked, and did this until he felt the first tremors in his thighs, and the lickings of heat in his balls, and the sweet meltings in his spine. And when he finally spilled his sperm, it pulsed into her mouth and she drank it deliciously, sucking the tube to get every last drop, and then licking him gratefully.

  When she finished, the first man, who was still fist-fucking her cunt, said, “That looked good. I think I’ll try some of that.”

  “Oh yes,” Constance purred. “Let me have your big fat cock in my mouth.” And smiled to herself. She shuddered at what she was about to do, and yet it seemed absolutely logical and necessary that she do it.

  He pulled his fist out of her and she shuddered with its disappearance. She felt something of the same pang she did when she had lost her virginity. This was one more “first” she would never be able to experience as a first again. She felt a certain gratitude to the man who had broken her fist-fucking cherry, but she wasn’t going to let sentimentality get in the way of irony.

  The man put his knees on either side of her head. He slid his cock in between her lips. It was thick and flat and slick with the fluid that had seeped from the tip during all his exertions. She licked the tip clean, and then nibbled at it. He had given her quite an experience so she wanted to return the favor as much as possible.

  She sucked his cock for a very long time, using all her patience, strength, and knowledge. He crooned in response.

  “Oh yes, baby,” he moaned. “That’s the way, the way I like it. Suck it, lick it, take my hard cock into your beautiful sweet mouth. Wrap your lips around it. Lick it with your hot tongue.”

  Constance hummed and sucked, licked and hummed. She could feel him growing closer and closer to orgasm. And she knew that that would be the moment of truth. All her life she had been dissatisfied because she felt that she had never been presented with a chance to prove her true mettle. She’d begun to climb the ladder of success in her profession, but there was little risk or danger. She wanted to be put in a complete crisis situation so she would know whether she was worthy of her own beliefs or not, whether she had the courage of her worldview. She was convinced that to each human being there comes a moment when destiny steps in and demands that he or she do something totally outrageous, totally outside the context of normal behavior.

  The man above her began to moan consistently. She knew that he was very close. She licked harder and sucked more strongly. The cock throbbed and pulsed and grew hot in her mouth. It was every cock she had ever sucked and she flung herself into eating it with abandon. She was approaching her own climax, one which would go light years beyond anything she had ever known or imagined. Being fist-fucked in the ass and cunt, being abducted and turned into a slave, these were not mundane occurrences, and the test of her soul would be whether she was truly transformed by them.

  The man let out a cry. His back stiffened. The cock popped out of her mouth. She open
ed her lips wide. His sperm shot all over her face. She curled her tongue up. He plunged his cock back in. The sperm kept shooting. And shooting. And she sucked and sucked until he was completely dry.

  Then she put all her strength into her jaw, flexed, brought her teeth together in a single, horrible bite, and severed his cock from his body at the very root.

  The man, as predicted, let out a scream, a cry of pain and shock, fell from the table, and was dead within minutes. Constance spit out the member and, after taking a deep breath, swallowed the blood that had spilled into her throat.

  “Blood and sperm,” she thought, “a fitting combination.”

  A few more minutes went by and then she sensed someone else standing next to her. She tensed in apprehension.

  “Interesting,” said a male voice, one which she identified as Smoothy. “But, of course, I warned him. And he, of course, got caught up in his triumph and forgot. Well, no great loss. We have his money and can dispose of his body.”

  She felt his hands on her breast and realized that he was removing her nipple clips. Then his hands went to her feet.

  “But I think we’d better get you out of these ropes,” he went on, “before anything else happens. Your extremities are beginning to turn blue, and we wouldn’t want you to get gangrene before you’ve been of full use to us. Especially not since you’ve proven yourself such a promising victim.”

  With that, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. She thought she detected a trace of affection in the kiss, but thought that that must be pure hallucination.

  Two

  The room was as pleasant a space as any she had ever lived in. It was some twenty feet long by twenty-five feet wide, with a large private bath, and sported a balcony which received continual sunlight. The appointments showed imagination and taste: an oversized double bed with a large mirror for a headboard, a walnut writing desk, a walk-in closet, bureaus, wall-to-wall forest green rug, a very subtle use of lamps to provide modulated lighting, a stereo, a radio, a television. The effect was that of a personalized and expensive hotel room.