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Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1)
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) · Fetish · There’s something in the bible I heard preached when I was very young, back when girls were still allowed to go to school. It described Eve as Adam’s “help-meet,” and went on to add that just as with the world with all its animals, women were put upon the Earth to benefit men. The reading came again a few weeks later after there had been rioting in the streets. The monotone voice again repeated that women were intended by God to be the perfect servants of men, a resource to be used and enjoyed—even harvested as sustenance to feed hungry bellies. “Let the woman return to her original purpose,” the speaker had said. “She is made for recreation, for procreation, and above all else—to nourish and sustain men.”
I was twelve when I was taken from my family. I have no idea what became of my mother and two younger sisters, for they had vanished like so many women and blemished girls. My older sister still lives, as far as I know, doing one of the many things attractive girls must do. As for me, my name is Dani, and at fourteen years old I’m almost to the age of usefulness. This camp that I am staying at is actually meant to deprogram boys and teach them God’s will. Each camper is assigned a girl as his project on the first day. For one month that boy is expected to work with his girl, doing his best to ready her for service. This involves a lot of coaching, as our thoughts too, were in need of correction. My boy is Pete, a tall lanky youth with thin hands. Once Pete had played the piano, but now I’m his instrument.
The first part of each day I must spend in the tank. For three hours I’m required to swim without resting—never touching the sides unless absolutely necessary. I am of course naked as all girls are. We can wear robes when we get chilly. But if a male staff member should cross our path, we are to uncover ourselves for his inspection. For we females are lowly creatures. Such things as privacy or pride are a male privilege only.
It would not be so bad, except for the blistering summer heat. The men are never too concerned, since girls are not to live long anyway. But at least most places around the park are protected somehow. The tank where I swim has a wooden overhang. Even the walkways we girls take to get to our meals have covers overhead.
It is a Tuesday and I have finished my swim. I towel off my chilled body, and then I await the arrival of my coach. At age fourteen my breasts are now at last showing promise. I suppose I would be into a C cup by now, if such a thing as bras still existed. Pete will focus on my breasts first in his obsession to make them larger.
I pad into the empty gymnasium beside my tank, starting on the bench press to strengthen my pecs. After this I do my sets of push-ups, followed by cable flies. Pete enters the gym and quietly watches me as I work, his gaze on my chest as I separate my arms. “Done pullovers yet?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Pull downs?” No. Another negative. “You’re behind, Dani.”
I nod, and as I stand, he gestures me over to the freestyle weights. We work together for about an hour, and Pete makes me repeat the sets he missed. “Now stand before me,” he commands in his bossiest voice. I obey at once, my head turning sideways as his hands massage my breasts.
I tense when he takes my nipples and pinches them gently, rolling them thoughtfully between his fingers.
“Your sister’s tits are huge,” Pete says, “So I know we can get you there, too.” He cradles my right breast, rubbing it firmly between his palms. “She’s a swimmer, isn’t she? That’s the work I want for you. It’ll keep you cool in the summer. During the winter they heat the water so it’s no big deal.”
I nod, thinking of my many long hours each day in the smaller tank behind the aquarium, away from the public’s view. The large glass container had once held salt water and fish, but now the water was pure, slightly warmed and clear. All the girls in the performance pool out front are at least seventeen, with thin waists and jewelry adorned breasts that sway and bob as they move. Some are costumed as mermaids, while others crouch before the underwater glass, spreading their legs for the men on the level below to see. It is a millionaire’s club—or a billionaire’s club. I’m not sure which and I guess it doesn’t matter. Though now I see the police in the parking lots, too. The elite who run this club favor the town’s sheriff, a greasy fat man who supplies them with the prettiest girls.
Pete is crouching before me, his knees spreading my thighs where I stand, then pulling apart my girlhood with his fingers. I continue to look away, my eyes closed as I feel one finger find the wet spot between my legs. He rubs gently, a slow circular motion that spreads my fluids out, making me slippery in every crevice. Then he slides one finger slowly in. I open my mouth, licking my lips as the finger crooks and explores my interior. Pete pulls it back out and shows it to me, flecked white with my juices. He returns to his work, separating my folds and spreading them flat. Two fingers sink in, reaching upward as far as they can. Pete is holding my buttocks close to his chest, his arm cocked as more fingers glide in. Four fingers now, clamped together to form a funnel.
“What are women for, Dani?” Pete asks. He is up on his knees, his strong arms around me.
“To . . .” I am panting. “Please men!”
“Exactly.” Pete tucks his thumb into the funnel of his half-inserted fingers. “Slow and easy,” he croons. I feel the skin around my opening stretch wide almost to tearing.
Remembering my previous sessions, I breathe slowly, deeply, and relax my legs. “Good girl,” Pete observes. His strong arm holds me steady as he works. “Now what is God’s will?”
“That I should please men,” I answer. I lean over his head, my fingers grabbing his hair. He is tilting his hand slowly from side to side, softening the mouth of my pussy even more.
“Dani,” he admonishes. “You’re trying too hard. Shall we give you your pill?”
“Y-yes!” I cry. Smiling, he reaches into his pocket and produces the tiny tablet. I swallow it quickly, gratefully, and then droop forward again, my soft breasts draping over his head.
He continues to smile, his hand maintaining the gentle rocking. His four fingers are half inside me, with the added girth of his thumb. He rotates his hand in a circular motion, tilting it up and down, and then side to side. I am feeling the heaviness begin in my legs. My tongue goes dry, cottony. I feel my eyelids drooping. He removes his hand and lowers me onto my back, his hands separating first my petals, and then my opening. I hear the pumping sound as he squirts lube through a tiny straw directly inside me. “Gently now,” he breathes.
I close my eyes. The fingers are stretching me more with every movement, and I feel them pushing, working their way in. Pete has my pelvis lifted—pillowed on his thigh. My legs are up and flopped to each side, my feet dangling close to my shoulders. The pressure continues as the fingers twist, as more of the thumb makes it in. I feel my muscles submitting around his hand, the tight sensation easing somewhat. There is one more hard push, and then he is in me, embraced by my flesh, his entire hand delving inward.
I am drifting with the currents of the drug, feeling his hand pressing me out, the fingers turning to expand my interior. He progresses until his knuckles touch my cervix. I let out a gasp, though my sleepy eyes are closed.
“Now listen to my voice,” he says. “This camp is about preparing you girls to be women in this new world. Proper women—not like what you were before. The grownups can’t do it. There are strict laws against pedophilia now. But they can watch if they want to, because they are men, and men can do whatever they want.”
“Whatever they want,” I repeat dully.
“This is the first time I’ve had my whole hand inside you,” he tells me. “You’re so amazing, Dani. I am proud of you.”
I nod as his hand glides in and out, exits and re-enters my body. I feel fluid dripping down, the feathery touch of his fingertips on my clit. With every stroke my body submits more, my muscles softening under the pressure and pull of his hand. He seems tireless as he works, his muscles rippling in his arm as he changes angles, sinking deeper than before, touching places no one’s been. He motions me to cross my ankles, then lifts my legs over my belly, holding them aloft with his hand behind my knees. He rolls into a crouch, and now uses the weight of his arm to drive quickly in and out. I grunt rhythmically with each penetration. More liquid dribbles where I can feel it. I can see his hand glistening as it withdraws, his tanned smooth skin flecked white with my juices. He enters again and pauses, then speeds up his tempo, the hand barely entering before snapping back out. I am loose now around his wrist, my flesh yielding as he turns and angles and stretches. Then once more he resumes the deep plunges. A whole hour passes and still Pete works. He is panting hard with exertion, sweat trickling down his neck. I climax twice and still he continues, his face sprayed with my fluids.
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete soothes as he works. “I’ve made a device I want you to wear to bed tonight, and every night. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Okay,” I mumble groggily.
“As much as I’m loosening you right now, in an hour you’ll be tight as a drum again, maybe even more. We need to keep training your body. It must remember how to open, be readily accessible whenever men want it. Most men want to fist, but rarely are willing to do the work. So you must do it for them. Understand?”
I close my eyes as Pete lowers my legs. Now he raises one to his shoulder, my other one dangling free. He rolls again to his knees, and lifts my pelvis with him. The hand is gliding in and out, so effortless I barely feel him.
Then finally he withdraws and sets me down, wiping me out gently with a warmed washcloth. I feel him strap something around my waist. Then something firm and cold slides in. There is a pull and click of a buckle in front, and then another behind. “There,” Pete says in satisfaction. “That’ll hold it in place. Wear this for the rest of the day, ok? And to bed tonight. Over time we’ll swap this out—graduating to larger sizes. But this is good to start.”
“You do nice work,” an older voice said. “Keep track of her depth from now on. Vagina and rectal both, if or when you get that far. You can pass the info on to the next boy assigned to her. I was wondering.” The doctor eyed Pete speculatively. “If you’d like to stay on after next week. Work part time here while you’re going to school.”
“What would I do?” Pete went to the sink to wash his fingers. I climb to my feet, staring at the length of black leather around my waist. I could feel the object hard within me, and the trickle of fluids down my leg.
“Help train the new boys coming in,” the doctor said. “You could also measure these girls and keep a spreadsheet. The measurer’s in your kit. Have you used it yet?”
The doctor turned and I lost track of the voices. My insides were warm and pleasantly achy, the area between my legs throbbing.
“It’s a deal then,” the doctor said in a hearty voice. “Good. I’ve been watching you work and I recognize your skill. It’s not just about getting as much as you can to fit. It’s an artform—as you know. A kind of dance.”
I like to think I’m helping her reach her full potential.”
The doctor coughs. “That’s a great way to see it,” he says. “The value of the woman depends entirely upon her usefulness. Even those we harvest for food—even they have more purpose in life than a woman left on her own.”
There was a pause as the doctor sauntered off. Then I felt Pete’s hand on my bare shoulder. “Think you can walk with that thing?” he asks. I nod slowly and take a few steps.
***
“Get your holes nicely stuffed?” Breanne glares at me across the aisle. The barn is chilly today, its high rafters filled with the chatter of small birds. I sprawl sideways on my bunk, the highest of a stack of three. The barn has been styled in the manner of the Auschwitz prisoner barracks, with long narrow rows of bunks. There are three rows altogether, with the capacity to hold ninety girls in one barn. We have numbers assigned to us, too, like the residents of the Nazi camps. Only ours are hidden—tiny microchips beneath our skin.
I shrug. The blond girl hates me intensely. “Just the one,” I respond.
“She’s jealous of Pete,” another girl quipped. This was Diane, a fiery redhead that the men favored.
“I am not!” Breanne returns hotly. “I just hate how she just lays there. Like she’s not even alive! And look. He’s put a spacer inside her. Gonna stretch her nice and wide!”
I glare at the rafters, my arms pillowing my head. “We’re supposed to stay open, aren’t we?"
“No, we’re supposed to fight!” snarls Breanne. “We are human beings, not livestock. How dare they?”
Another girl peeks out from under my bunk, her raven hair swirling down her arm. “They are following God’s word,” she says. “Have you read it? Women were made for the happiness of men; it’s very clear in the bible. Adam was unhappy, and so God made him a help meet. That’s us. We are here to help however we can.”
“Help the men?” Breanne growls the words. “By letting them torture us? Have you heard the cries from the barn on the hill? Or letting them harvest our bodies as if we are cattle? They have women attached to machines for at least two years. All those women do all day is hang there and produce milk. That’s slavery!”
“The men rule over us.” Helen replies, her blue eyes meeting mine. I like my bunk mate. She is a year younger than me. And just like Helen Burns her namesake from Jane Eyre, she is a calming influence, and very smart. “They decide where we fit the best—where we can be the most useful.”
“And if the men decide you’re best at being ground into hamburger—”
Helen shrugs. “I’m not ugly, so I doubt that would happen.”
I tune them out and return my gaze to the rafters. The dildo inside me isn’t so uncomfortable if I stay on my back.
The girls go on talking around me, Breanne expressing her outrage over my docile behavior.
“She’ll live longer,” Helen says from beneath me. “But with that attitude, Breanne, you might find yourself at the torture barn.”
The torture barn. My innards writhe at the thought, for like everyone else I hear stories. Some men like happy things to do with women, appreciating the beauty of our form, or even our taste alongside beans and potatoes. But not all men have the same needs. The torture barn caters to a gentlemen’s club, and the unfortunate girls carted off into the forest are never again seen. But they are heard. Late at night if I happen to wake, I can catch the sounds of the far-off screaming. Not all the girls cry out. But when they do, the terrifying cries echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts for days to come.
***
I hear the bell for dinner and jump from my bunk, wincing as the dildo bruises me inside. The food is good here. They feed us as though we are prized pigs. Everything is organic and healthy—superfoods to keep us tasty if or when they decide to harvest our meat. I attack my meal with gusto as I do every night. It is a plate of peeled carrots, topped with chickpeas, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and hemp hearts. Added to the mix is ginger powder, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and nutritious yeast. It is delicious and I eat every forkful, washing it down with a glass of iced mushroom coffee.
Doctor Burns appears behind our tables and saunters slowly, his hands behind his back, to the dais up front. The boys from the camp appear in his wake, each carrying a chair that they place beside our tables. The doctor plugs in the microphone at the back of the dais, then gives it a tap to call the room to order. “Pete Jennings,” he calls in his ringing voice. “Has your girl finished her dinner?”
Pete stands slowly and glances my way. “She has, Dr. Burns.”
“Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “Bring her forward along with your tools.”
I tense as I stand, the skin prickling behind my neck. The doctor continues to address the entire room. “This boy performs in ways that outstrips some of our best full-time trainers; hence I have asked him to stay on as part of our staff. I thought it might benefit the rest of you boys to observe his techniques. Peter,” the doctor gestures to the table being wheeled onto the dais. “Do you have everything you need for a demonstration of your skills?”
Peter frowns at me as I step to his side, then turning his body in such a way as to hide his right hand, he passes me the little pill to help me relax. I turn away, gulping it down quickly as I climb shakily onto the table. He gestures me onto my back, then nods toward the doctor.
“What now, Sir?”
The doctor seats himself in front of our tables. “Pretend we’re not here. Consider this another session. Business as usual.”
I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Pete’s hands are on my breasts, kneading them firmly. He pauses as he works, leaning over to finger my clit.
I breathe deeply, a wave of fatigue creeping down my limbs. Pete takes his time with my breasts, his fingers digging through the tissue to find my muscles.
“Why do that?” One boy calls from the left side of the room.
When Pete fails to respond, the doctor speaks for him. “It gets her juices flowing. You should be doing this, too—all of you. A lot of men still get off on the breasts. Better to have our girls ready for whatever comes.”
I float with the effects of the drug, my legs raising up as Pete slides them into the stirrups. He lifts me to the point that I feel a breeze between my buttocks and the cushion I am on. The design of this table is alien to me, appearing to have been created for this purpose. It has a light that Pete switches on to shine between my legs, fully illuminating my groin.
He loosens my belt deftly and slides out the dripping dildo, setting it aside on the bench beside the table. His fingers glide up inside me, two and then three, turning slowly as he applies a slight pressure. He takes his time, bending low to explore my interior and gaping me as he has done before. He adds lube to his hand, then twists in effortlessly, his elbow turning this way and that as he expands my interior. I let my head droop to the side, feeling the drool running down my cheek. The fisting continues for what seems like forever. Pete glides slowly in and out, focusing fully on his objective. His fingers form a fist at my core, his knuckles rubbing against my cervix. Then he draws out his hand with a squelching sound, his fingers glistening.
“If she was a year older, he could double it now,” the doctor says. “Have any of you boys gotten to that part in your books?”
A few raise their hands. Smiling, Peter glances at his fellow campers hurrying to gather around the table. “She’s not fighting you at all,” one observes, staring down. A boy moves next to Pete, his fingers reaching in to spread my folds back, making the entry and exit of Pete’s hand more visible in the light. A few boys trade places with Pete, their hands penetrating me as Pete’s had done, so smoothly I barely notice. I am aware of hands holding my buttocks, lifting my pelvis even higher. Pete’s arm is in me again, the elbow rising and falling, the wet sounds filling my ears.
“She’s a good girl,” Pete said. He is rotating his fisting hand carefully, massaging my sore interior.
***
That night I sleep without the dildo. It is Pete’s idea, since I worked so hard today. I watch a girl braid Breanne’s hair as sleep eludes me. The girls are the rebels in our group, but tonight they seem subdued, as if Diane’s threat of the torture
barn still lingered in their heads. Horror stories abounded of the torture barn. No death was easy there.
“If we’re dead, we can’t fight back,” I hear one of the girls say.
“We can’t resist them,” whispers the other. “Christianity has taken this country completely. It’s worse than Afghanistan now.”
“I don’t know about that,” Breanne says. “They’re probably just as bad. They don’t have red meat, either, right? And real men can’t live without it. Show me a man who’s vegan and I will bet you my last penny he’s gay.”
Pete eats meat, I think as I drift off, dreaming obscurely of men wearing dresses and swimming in the tank with mermaid tails.
***
The new day brings a blast of chilled air onto my face as I jerk awake. The barn doors are open, the bell ringing us girls to breakfast. I stop absently for my shot as I leave the barn, then trot naked, the third in a long line of sleepy nude bodies. The boys and men pause grinning to watch us, and I avoid their eyes as a proper girl should.
Our breakfast is oatmeal, with raisins and honey. Once again it is the best oats money could buy—seeded organic oats with fresh moist raisins. We top this with cold milk and drink it down with mushroom coffee. Dessert is an orange, thin skinned and bursting with juice.
***
I sink into the water of the tank and breast-stroke to the other side. Watching me, Pete frowns. “What have I said about shaking loose first?” He crouches beside the pool and I swim to a stop below him. “Your muscles support your breasts,” he said. “But they are separate. To be a swimmer your breasts must move freely with the water. They cannot be tethered to your muscles. Now go on; assume the position.”
I nod and reach downward with my arms, my legs beneath me as I pretend to crawl on my hands and knees. I hold my arms away from my body and jerk my knees forward and back, the motion of the water catching my breasts, dragging them to and fro. I double my speed until my breasts are flopping back and forth. Then I change my movement, scissor kicking my legs to make my flesh jerk upward and down. Pete is nodding above me.
“It’s good practice letting them hang. This is the position the milkers take. The breasts dangle from your ribcage, the weight of the milk drawn away from the rest of your body. Used to be a girl could produce twenty-five ounces to thirty ounces daily. That was three years ago. Now most of our women pump out fifty ounces per day, with some coming close to a half gallon. The eventual goal is a whole gallon. A carton’s worth per woman. And who knows? With drugs they might pull it off.”
I flip onto my back and swim where Pete can see, the tissue over my ribcage bobbing easily in the water—rippling with the waves. I turn back, pivoting toward Pete.
I start when I find him treading water beside me in his loose red swim trunks. “All girls become milkers eventually. You need to get used to it.” He turns me in the water, then grasps my nearest breast and pulls it downward, squeezing it hard. “Being handled by men, I mean. Once you are a swimmer, you’ll be given the Somatotropin to help your breasts grow. Milkers get huge, you know, which is why they hang from slings. They cannot walk anymore. Or at least not far. Which is why we need to make your muscles stronger for all the weight you’ll support one day. Here,” he says, and hands me over a pool noodle. Seeing my confusion, he gestures. “Tuck it under your arms so it supports you from behind. I’m going to try something new before you swim.”
Mystified, I obey, and Pete pushes at me until my head bumps the wall. “Hold onto the ladder. I don’t want you drifting.”
I grip the rungs, and lay back. My breasts float and point skyward, jiggling under the sun. Pete turns my body, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand—then twists his other into the softness between my legs.
I tense at the coolness of the water entering me. Pete works his hand inside me, the lube making a patch of oil on the water under his chin. “Spread your legs wide. I can’t do it for you.”
I obey as best as I can. The arm pushes in past the wrist, and turns, and I shiver at the water that is sucked in with it, a chillness he pushes deeper before drawing his hand out. He catches one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. Then he fists me steadily, the water entering me again. “A good washing after yesterday,” he says with a grin. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasp, eyeing the white haze forming about me, my fluids snaking around us both.
“I thought it would ease some of the burning. All that work yesterday.”
I recline as far as I can, my one leg bobbing in the tank’s current. With every stroke, Pete angles his wrist deliberately to invite more water in, the coolness filling my depths along with his hand, easing the heat I didn’t realize I had.”
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete croons as he works. “I’m giving you the rest of today off after your swim. Keep the dildo inside you if you can. Even when you’re not in bed and walking around. We need to keep your body open until the men want it —teach it to be accessible at all times, like I’ve said. Most men want to fist, but rarely want to do the work. Do you remember what is most important?”
I nod. “Pleasing the man.”
“Or men,” Pete corrects me. “Sometimes there’ll be men. No matter what they do, or how roughly they do it, you need to always look for ways to please—however they want you to.”
“What if they want to kill me?”
There is a strained pause. Pete stops his hand, his knuckles gently massaging my cervix. “That, too,” he says finally. “A woman with uses is a woman fulfilled. If they kill you for their pleasure, then your life has not been wasted. You’ll be processed into meat and you’ll serve a second purpose—to fill their bellies. Not many women get to have multiple ways to find meaning for their life. That’s why the girls who go up the hill are the luckiest of all.”
I gape at him. “But they’re tortured!”
He sighs, and his hand resumes its work. “It’s just foreplay, Dani. Just a different kind. Those women pleasure the men first, and then feed them. Compare that to an ugly girl who gets carted off from her home, never to be seen again. She serves one purpose only. Just one. Do you think she’ll be remembered for that? No. But you will, and so will the girls on the hill. You represent a pleasant memory for a man. Or perhaps for many men. Isn’t that lucky?”
I nod, genuinely believing it after he puts it that way. But Pete is not finished. He wrinkles his brow, as if trying to remember words he had read. “God created men,” he recites slowly. “We are his creations, and in following our creator’s example, we made women from our rib. You are created from men. We are your gods. Don’t you want to please us?”
I raise my leg from his shoulder in response and cock it high over my chest. Pete, grinning approvingly, turns slightly to drive in his fist.
“So . . . it’s a good thing to go up the hill?”
Pete pats my hip. “All women die young,” he says gently. “Seems to me the more useful the death, the better. The men in that club aren’t so bad. They simply have different tastes than other men. I’ve heard it said that their methods are creative, but for the woman there is always a lot of pain. I think you should try to be like your sister. In a year or two your breasts will be strong and big. You will bring lots of pleasure to the men who visit us here. It’s a good club. Even when you enter your last phase and become a milker—you’ll see. I hear they even have movie nights for the dairy girls.
Useful. The word echoes in my ears as I stare beyond the buildings.
I go the rest of the day with the dildo inside me. I have the belt around my waist to hold it in, and I have to be careful when I sit on the bench for dinner. I can feel my fluids leaking onto the seat—a trickle I try discreetly to wipe with my hands.
***
The next day I wake early and tiptoe out to greet the sun. The road into the foothills has mist covering its base. During the night I had roused to the familiar sound of the old truck’s engine. A girl had been taken up to the barn in the hills. All night
I had stayed awake listening for sounds of screaming. But this death had been a silent one.
I ask Pete about it during my swim. He sits on a chair working on his computer. He is a junior in High School, and though he is at camp, he still has several projects he needs to finish before the fall quarter begins.
“Oh, did they?” Pete glances at the forest behind our heads. “I didn’t hear it. But your barn is closer to the road than our cabins.
“Did they give her something?” I asked. “Like you give me?”
Pete shakes his head. His blue eyes are fierce as he glares at his computer. “Drugs taint the meat, so no they wouldn’t. They just haven’t . . . done her yet. They might be collecting several girls for something. They do that, you know. Work on more than one per night. If it’s a weekend thing they usually have a barbeque after. They do if it’s sunny, that is.”
I lick my lips, punching the water rapidly with both fists. Pete glances down at my jiggling breasts and grins. “Does this really make them grow?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
Pete laughs. “Nah. I just read a lot so I can sound smarter than I am, and some of this stuff I make up as I go. But it does make sense. Weight lifting makes muscles bigger. Whether or not it makes your tits grow, who knows? But I do know they’ll end up huge eventually. Your owners will see to it in their quest for more milk. I’m surprised you’re not getting the shots yet.”
I nod, and hearing the chime of the clock go off, climb shakily up the ladder. I stand beside Pete, water sluicing down my legs. He gestures approvingly at the dildo still strapped inside my body. “Good girl, Dani. Way to take the initiative.”
“You said I needed to open easily.”
He stands and sets down his laptop. Taking me by the shoulders, he stares into my face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You do want to please.”
Tears burn in my eyes. “More than anything. I want to do what’s right,” I manage. “I thought God created women, too. That’s what my mother said. But—” He was emphatically shaking his head. “I know better now, Pete. And I’m sorry if I ever angered you or did anything disrespectful.”
“Hush now; you’re fine.” He smiles at me, genuine affection on his handsome face. “Come, let’s get you on your table.”
I follow him into the grooming room with its black and white checked floor and big basin sink. There are six tables in a row. What had once been chiropractic tables had been modified so a girl could lay face-down on her belly with her breasts poking through. I settle myself, hearing the squirt of oil from a bottle beneath me. Pete massages the liquid onto my cooled skin. My breasts follow his touch like magnets, the nipples clinging to his hands as if begging for more. He kneads deeply for a time and pulls, sliding the nipples between his fingers. “I do think you’re bigger. Not as big as your sister yet, but there’s definitely some heft here.” He cradles each breast—testing their weight. “How old are you?”
I think about my birthday. “What month is it?” I ask.
“It’s August,” he said. “August third.”
“My birthday was July 31st,” I tell him. “I’m fifteen now.”
“Fifteen. So, we’re now just a year apart in our ages.” He reaches up over the table and presses my back hard against the mat. “Strain down to me,” he commands. “Fill my hands.”
I obey, turning my head to press my cheek into the bed. He grasps each breast one at a time between his hands and tugs downward, the contours of his palms grinding into my tissue. Then he presses up through the flesh, his fingers massaging my muscles.
“I do get some kind of shots,” I tell him finally. “They’re just vitamins though. That’s what they tell us in the barn. Do you think—”
“No, that’s either the Somatotropin for humans I told you about, or something like it.” His heavy breathing pauses beneath me, his knuckles grinding into my breast. “I’m glad they’ve started you on it early. You’ll get big very soon. Bigger than your sister, probably. You should see the ones in the milk barn. They’re actually kind of ugly,” he muses, “by the time they get so big. The slings keep the girls from having to see how bloated they are. And their nipples are as fat as this or bigger!” He brandishes his thumb. “All purple and swollen. As long as my thumb, too!”
Sighing, I close my eyes. The knuckles are mashing into my tissue, my own nipples growing sensitive and hard. I feel the fluid welling again around the dildo. It dribbles onto the table, dripping to Pete’s head.
“God, you’re wet! Here.” Rising to his feet, he reaches around my waist to release the dildo. It jettisons out with a rush of warmth to land with a thump on the floor. “Nice!” Pete exclaims. “See Dani, this is exactly what the men want to see. A female dripping and ready for work, begging to be opened inside. Here.”
He raises the table to his waist. Then standing beside me, slides one whole hand in past his wrist. “Oh!” he exclaims. “Look at you!” Delighted, he moves between my legs, cocking my knees up until my toes touch my rump. With gusto he fists hard into my depths. Then grinning, he shows me his hand, the pale liquid dripping. “Should we try to double fist?” he asks as he resumes. “You’re fifteen now. I bet you’re ready. You’re certainly wet enough.”
I draw a deep breath, eyeing his hands. “If you think I can.”
“Absolutely.” He reaches into his pocket, then hands me a pill. I quickly shake my head.
“I want to feel it as much as I can,” I told him. “I like how it feels. Please, I’ll relax.”
He studies me briefly, then again takes position. I feel his hand gliding in deep, then slowly withdraw as more fingers hug his wrist. “Dani, I want you to think about opening yourself,” he says. He enters cautiously, the new fingers forming into the palm of his fist, sliding gradually in as he twists. The skin around the entrance to my cunt springs tight, painful to the point of tearing. I feel his every movement, each tiny adjustment making me hiss. “Easy,” he urges.
I breathe deeply as I fight to relax, imagining the mouth of my opening yawning wide to meet him. I feel a sudden stabbing pain just inside my vagina, and then another on the opposite side. I have the sensation of being poked three more times around my entrance, but there is numbness now. “Just a little novocaine,” Pete is saying. “There, that should help”
I feel the twisting continue, the pressure deeper now, as if the tightness at my threshold has ceased to exist. The hardness of his hands is rotating slowly, sinking down into my core. There is a sucking resistance as he pulls his hands outward, and I gasp in pain. Then I feel a pricking deep inside, and spot one of his hands between my legs. He is holding a syringe with a very long needle—guiding it carefully in. Another prick I barely feel, followed by another further in. “I know we’re cheating,” he says. “But I want this done right.”
Once again his hands penetrate my body, the walls of my numbed flesh yielding. He groans in delight, his entwined hands twisting hard and fast to loosen me up. “Let’s get you soft while the novocaine lasts,” he mutters. “I didn’t give you very much.” His body rocks as he fists; he is grunting softly in his throat.
“You’re doing so good,” he says, and before I can react, he plunges again, twisting eagerly to reach my cervix. Then he is out, and back in, his hands glistening. He pauses to turn me onto my side. “Can you hold your left foot over your head?”
I obey, holding my leg as far forward and up as I can. He cocks back my right leg with his knee, then drives into me steadily, his two hands as one gliding effortlessly in and out. Fluids are trickling down my right thigh as I writhe on the table. I am starting to feel it, the wide-open stretch and the massage deep within. He pulls out as my fluids gush, then wipes his face with his arm briefly before resuming his work. With my hypersensitive skin it feels incredible, every nerve on fire as his hands punch deep. The sound of my wetness is loud in the grooming room. The world is spinning around me. And still the pounding continues, the sliding of my body up and down on the table.
I pass out at some point, yet dimly I am aware of Pete turning me onto my back, raising my knees to secure them to the rings above the bed. My legs are opened and tied, so widely spread I can feel the tendons at my groin stretching. His two hands enter me again, alternating one and then the other, the hands inside no longer entwined, one sliding in as the other glides out. It goes on like that for what seems like hours, but then, abruptly, it stops. I feel Pete’s hands stretching the entrance of my pussy, pausing just inside and pulling me apart.
“What are you doing?” I mumble.
“I’m gaping you,” he tells me. “Something else men like to do. To see inside after they work. I can see very clearly inside you, Dani. You’ve done very well today.”
I feel my face flame hot. “Do I have to be a milker?”
He pats my thigh, then opens me wider as he bends for a long look. “Don’t be embarrassed now. Pleasing the man, remember?”
I nod, breathing deeply.
“Dani, milkers live two years longer at least. Don’t you want that? You’ll get to have a baby, too. If you’re really lucky, it’ll be a boy!”
“But I won’t get to raise him. They’ll take him away.”
“Girls cannot be trusted with such important work,” he agrees. “The church raises babies for you now. Besides, you’ll be too busy providing milk. For him, and everyone else. Girl’s milk goes into everything, you know. You drank some this morning.”
“I don’t want purple nipples,” I pout. I glare at the ceiling, feeling Pete’s hands deep within me, the entwined fingers holding still, as if feeling my body’s pulse.
“You won’t see them,” he says. “The breasts hang out of your sight, with bracers to support the weight. You forget they’re there after a while, or so I’ve been told by a reliable source. But think of it, Dani. All the healthiest food you can possibly eat. And movies! You get to watch movies!”
I close my eyes. The hands are turning within me, pressing me out. “If I don’t become a milker,” I venture to say. “What then?”
He sighs and the hands stop. “Well,” he says slowly, “if it turns out you can’t have a baby, you’d come to the end of your journey, wouldn’t you? They’d either take you up the hill to entertain those men, or you’d go to the processing plant, which is much more likely. I haven’t seen how it’s done, but I’ve heard there’s some kind of machine that does it really quick. You wouldn’t even feel it.”
I lick my lips. His hands are moving again, gliding slowly in and out. I try to relax despite my raised hips and widely spread legs. He is fisting me with his hands entwined, pumping me vigorously with loud squelching sounds. I am drifting again, my feet going numb from the straps under my knees. I see two men enter the grooming room and stop to watch Pete work. They are talking in low murmurs, their voices appreciative—praising his efforts. One shines a light in when Pete stops to gape me, the two faces rapt as they peer between my legs. My guts squirm as the men take their time, scrutinizing my interior and taking pictures as they talk to Pete.
“Have you done anal yet?” The taller man asks.
“Yeh,” his companion says, leaning down so I see his face. “First, why not tell her everything, boy? We work at the plant, little Miss. Wanna hear how it’ll go down? A knock on the side of your head to stun you first, see?” He taps his temple. “Then we’ll pop you into the D, D and D device. As in decapitate, dismember, and disembowel. All done by one machine. Thwack, thwack, thwack it goes, and It’s very quick, as your coach boy says. Then someone like old Jake here will get to wash out your torso and cut it in half, then a quick acid dip to loosen breast tissue and skin. And then what, Jake? Scraping, the stamp on the rump, and then the freezer?”
Jake’s mouth twitched. “Something like that. But it’s one big chunk, not three. The head and limbs come off simultaneously.” He stares at Pete. “I hear you’re talented, boy. I want to see your hand up her ass.”
“Not yet,” says Pete tightly. “One new thing at a time. I’ve been vagina fisting her for two straight hours and my hands are tired. I had to numb her up to get two inside. I’ve had enough for one day.”
“Then there was the time the machine wasn’t calibrated right,” the shorter man says. He leers at me, waggling his eyebrows. “Cut her head cleanly in half—it was something to see, I’ll tell you.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow to watch,” the man called Jake says. “We’re not allowed to work on these girls. We only ever see them in pieces.”
Pete clears his throat. “It’s a date. Though I warn you gentlemen, I doubt I’ll get my hand in. She’s never done anal before.”
The two men start for the door. “Oh, you’ll get it in,” the shorter man calls. “We won’t leave tomorrow so easily as today.”
I lay still as the door clicks shut. The cold air wafts between my legs, my fluids chilling my naked skin. Pete is squirting something soothing inside me, using one hand to push it deep. He wipes my exterior with a warm washcloth, clicking his tongue as he releases my legs. “What did I say is most important,” he asks.
I try to swallow. “Pleasing the men.”
He takes my hand and helps me sit up. “Exactly, Dani. Pleasing men. Those men in particular are very dangerous. There’s nothing I can do; as men they have the right to watch. So, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. Do you know what anal is?”
I draw a quick shaky breath. “A kind of fisting?”
“Yes.” Pete sets a pillow on the table, then gestures me onto my stomach. He raises my hips from behind, moving the pillow until it elevates my pelvis. “Only from the back. From here.” He taps my rosebud, as my mother once called it, the one private place I still have. “This is another thing a lot of men like. In fact . . .” Pete slathers on a thick lubricant, using one finger to poke some in. “Men like to see both holes fisted at once. A girl being fully utilized. If they could, they’d stick their penises in your mouth, too. But that kind of thing’s not allowed at this club.”
I accept the drug Pete gives me. Laying on my stomach, I wait as Pete stands beside me. Gradually I feel the weight of my head compressing my cheek on the table. I am drawing deep breaths, sinking rapidly into slumber. Vaguely I am aware of pain as my anus stretches, feeling oddly embarrassed like I’m going to the bathroom. I feel a hard object at first, something small graduating to big, making a pumping noise beside my head. The object is turning within me, straining my anus at different angles. Then it is gone and I feel Pete’s fingers.
Motionless, I try to sleep, relaxing my body as much as I can. The fingers twist slowly in and out. Then there is the object again, with more pumping sounds and the pain of stretching. Now it is Pete’s whole hand working its way in. Fingers are gaping me from behind, then the hand Is pushing inward, slimy with lube. Pete is inside me now, his hand a firm pressure as my tissues guide his way. He leans into me as he turns his arm. I feel the ball of his fist pressing my innards. His other hand enters my vagina, and begins to fist very gently. Groggily I splay my legs, lifting one from behind to give him room.
“You still in here?” A boy asked from the doorway. “It’s past dinner time, you know. I saved you a hot dog.”
Pete pauses in his work, breathing hard. “Trent. Can you help me with something?”
“Sure!” The larger boy hurries to the table. I am aware but not aware, drool soaking the table under my cheek.
“We have a problem. You can’t tell anyone, promise?”
“Promise!” Trent exclaims. “What do you want me to do?”
I blink, feeling the hand in my rectum slowly draw out. “Have you done anal?” Pete asks.
“Not yet.”
“Let me see your hand.” Another pause. “Good, we’re about the same size. Now cover your arm with lube to the elbow. Ease it in, like you saw me doing. Don’t force it. Let her body tell you what to do.”
“Oh God!” Trent groaned, as I feel the hand sliding in. “How far does it go?”
“You’ll feel a soft resistance; once you do, explore around a bit. Go in as deep as you can.”
“So what’s the problem?” Trent leans against my buttocks. His fingers are open inside, stroking my interior as he feels his way.
“Two men are coming tomorrow and they want to see anal on her. I figured it would be better to practice first. Lift her leg with your free hand. Pull the foot behind you and up.”
I feel Pete’s hands at the mouth of my cunt again, the two hands twisting themselves in. The skin is tight—painful to the point of tearing. “Easy,” Pete whispers to me. “Dani, relax!”
I try to sleep, to let the drug carry me back down. Three hands are inside me now, moving and twisting within.
“Three!” Trent exclaimed. “Wait, let me get my phone.” There is a pause as the larger boy makes his video. “Look at this! We’re at camp and he’s double fisting?”
Pete is pumping steadily now, the two hands entering my drugged body easily as I come and go from awareness. This lasts for some time, the double fisting below Trent’s deeply imbedded hand.
“Do you have a light?” Pete asked abruptly. “Oh good. Dani, we’re going to try this again.”
I nodded groggily as the arms inside me slowly retreat.
“Gonna gape?” Trent asked.
“Absolutely. Here, if I stretch the sides, can you get a few fingers in to press out the bottom? Just . . . that’s it. Straight down—firmly. Now hold.”
There was a click, followed by sounds of amazement. “That’s great! I’ve never seen that before.”
“That’s her cervix.” I hear a few more clicks, and then the fingers release. “I want copies of those,” Pete says.
“You got it. Ready for your hotdog? I put it in foil so it should still be warm.”
I am laying where the boys leave me, the two of them sitting on a bench as Pete eats. My stomach twists as I think of the ingredients.
“These are actually better for you than the old pork variety,” Trent is saying. “At least with girl meat there’s nothing disgusted added. Besides, pigs were smart. It was pretty terrible that we killed them for food.”
“Nope, just girl.” Pete makes a face as he stares at his food. “This makes us cannibals, you know?”
Trent shrugs his broad shoulders and grins at me. “If it was made out of men, then maybe that’d be true. But what’s wrong with cannibalism? Pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that condones eating your children. Besides,” He gives me a wink. “Don’t forget what women are for. To be our help-meets. Get it? Help MEATS?”
Pete rolls his eyes. “You ok there, Dani? Want some food?”
“Sure she does.” Trent approaches my table. “Here, let’s clean you up first.”
I submit as the larger boy washes between my legs with the now soiled cloth. “There.” He helps me sit up, and I shakily climb off the table. “Hungry?”
I glance dubiously at the bag on the bench and nod.
“Good, because I brought something from the kitchen for you. They were very clear on the matter that this is for you.” He lifts out a cardboard box and hands it to me. Opening it, I find a large serving of wild rice, broccoli and buttered pinto beans. I stare at the yellow grease congealing beneath the veggies, visualizing the girls hanging from slings in the dairy.
“Thank you,” I say, and accept the wooden spoon he hands over.
“Besides,” Trent continues to Pete. “We were all going to die from overpopulation. This way only half of us live beyond twenty-two. And the other half . . .” He pats my arm. “We have all the food we need for a very long time. You know they had us eating cockroaches before the pandemic. Alternative foods—it’s not like it’s a new concept.”
The rice and beans are good, despite the fact they are now at room temperature. I clean out the box, and even eat the biscuit Peter hands to me. I hesitate at the milk carton and straw Pete passes to me next, eyeing the image of a cow on the front. It is whole milk, and I know very well that it does not come from cows.
“Go on,” laughs Pete. “You’ve had it before. What’s the difference?”
I take a sip and savor the sweetness on my tongue and the rich creamy texture.
“This is actually better for us by far,” Trent is saying. “Cow’s milk was meant for baby cows, not humans. This is one hundred percent for us!”
Drinking deeply, I empty the carton as both boys watch.
“Like it?” Trent inquires.
“Um, yes, actually.” I am staring at the carton. Ingredients: Pasteurized Girl Milk. Girl, I think to myself. Because none of us get to be women anymore.
***
I follow Pete to my barn just as the lights are about to go off. “Get in bed,” the head girl commands with a glower at Pete.
Pete turns me where I stand. “Keep both dildos in,” he says in a firm voice. “The one in the back comes out only if you have to go, understand? You have a very big day tomorrow. Get some rest.”
I squirm uncomfortably and nod. Climbing into my bunk I finally find a comfortable position on my left side. The lights go out, leaving me sore and alone in the darkness. The dildo in my vagina is twice as large as the first, and it almost feels like the two chunks of latex are touching each other. With the one in my rectum, I feel constantly like I have to go. It is only when my stomach cramps that I run to the toilet.
“Where were you at dinner?” Helen’s voice floats up from below as I return to my bunk.
“Getting stuffed,” I snap, and screw my eyes shut.
***
When morning comes I find I can’t eat, and must choke my oatmeal down under the head girl’s stern eyes. The milk for our oatmeal is from hemp hearts, I realize, recognizing its frothy texture and nutty taste. I leave for the gym after breakfast, but find Pete stepping in my path cutting me off.
“No, he says sternly. “Today is about making you ready for those men from the plant tonight. And I am betting there will be more than just the two. Come on.”
I trot naked at his heels, bypassing the tank and the gym and going at once into the grooming barn. He gestures me to the table and onto my stomach. I comply, and tense as he removes both my dildos. “Very good,” he says approvingly. “We’re not going to fist right now, because I know you’re very sore. But a few things.”
He inserts a large needleless syringe into my vagina and I feel a coolness flooding my body. “This will help you feel better,” he tells me. “It will keep you numb for the next fifteen hours. Trust me, you will not be hurting tonight.”
I heave a sigh of relief as he repeats the process with my anus, inserting the fluid deep into my rectum. I am smiling as I lay there, oblivious to the stretches Pete is putting me through. He starts with several bottles, each progressively larger than the first, though for the life of me I can’t exactly say which orifice each bottle is for.
We work for about an hour, with me lying still and Pete standing beside me, both of us waiting for my body to adjust.
“You’ll do just fine tonight,” he tells me. “These men just want something different, that’s all. They get tired of only seeing the dark side of our new society. They want to enjoy some of the benefits. I can understand that.”
“Somebody has to do what they do,” I hear myself mutter.
He looks at me sharply. “That’s exactly right, Dani. These men do the dirty work to keep the rest of us from going extinct, including you girls. Men cannot survive without these resources you provide us. It’s a hard fact, and one we must live with.”
“Do you think . . .” I hesitate. “Your God is punishing you for letting women be equals?”
Pete taps his fingers on my head. “Could be,” he muses. “I never thought of that, but maybe so. If we had used you from the start the way God intended . . .” his voice trailed off. “Could be . . .”
He moves in behind me and slides out the bottles. I am shaky as I stand, my entire pelvis numbed from my belly button down.
“Ready for a swim?” he asks, eyeing me.
“I think so,” I tell him. I am eager to get to the tank—to swim off my anxiety and fear. The expressions on the faces of those men last night—like they were inspecting raw meat.
***
My stomach gurgles loudly in the grooming room as we wait. I sit on the table, my legs swinging back and forth over the side. The table with the light has been brought from the clubhouse, complete with its “hi-lo” stirrups and bright adjustable lamp. Trent stands to the side with his arms crossed. Pete has asked him to assist, and the larger boy agreed.
“You’re still a bit numbed now, but you’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Pete tells me quietly. “Please go along, and trust me. These are dangerous men. If they want to kill you for their pleasure, they can. They can even ask me to do it, and I’d have no choice. You are nothing but meat to them. That’s what they see all day long—that’s how they have to be to survive their jobs. If they see you as human . . .” He fidgets uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “Just know . . . whatever I do tonight—I’m trying to save your life."
“And act like you enjoy it!” Trent put in.
“But I do,” I say, gazing dazedly at his face.
The men from the plant are arriving in their cars. I can’t see them because the parking lot is to the back of the building. But I can hear the gravel crunch under the wheels, and then the hurried footsteps. Three men enter and jerk to a stop, surprised to find us waiting. The man I know as Jake motions his friends to gather the chairs stacked high in a dusty corner, placing them in a semicircle behind the table’s bright light.
“Are any more coming?” Pete asks. His hands are folded across his chest. Stupidly, I nod, the double dose of pills in my system are kicking in.
Jake smirks as he cracks a beer. “Two more. Larry, the fellow you met last night, is one.”
As the tall man speaks, the new arrivals appear in the doorway. Both are wearing work clothes from the plant, their white bloodstained shirts untucked. I am staring at the floor as the men join their friends.
Trent catches my shoulders. He pulls me back, settling my head on a pillow. Pete raises my thighs, lifting my buttocks off the table as Trent stuffs pillows beneath my hips. My feet are placed in the stirrups and tied, then with mechanical clicks my legs are spread wide, a clamp on each side immobilizing my knees. A rubber device the length and width of a ruler is placed vertically between my labia folds. Pete bends it to the shape of my pelvis, and then turns a knob at its base. The device separates down the middle, and as the two halves widen, the folds of my girlhood are stretched apart and flattened, held in place against my body and out of the way.
I close my eyes as the mouth of my cunt is revealed for all to see. Though I am still
partially numb from my navel down, still I can feel the anticipating pulse of my tissue under the light. The men lean forward, and one of them points. “My God, she’s wet!”
Pete smiles and steps in close. “Dani’s always ready,” he says. “Easy to open and obedient.” He tosses a pillow on the floor and kneels down. Sliding in a few fingers, he stirs my juices slowly as wet sounds fill my ears. He widens his circles, his fingers gliding over the spade shaped contours of my vagina to coat my girlhood, drawing the moisture down to my anus and back up. “Best lube on the planet,” he tells his observers. Slowly then, he inserts his whole hand, twisting slightly as he pushes in.
“Would you look at that,” a man exclaims. “No resistance whatsoever!”
“I told you she’s easy.” Pete smiles, fisting gently in and out, his action steady and smooth. He adjusts the light so the men can see, fisting casually, languidly, his free hand catching my fluid welling to the surface and spreading it around his wrist. The wet kissing sounds of my tissue yielding to his strokes is pleasant and relaxing to hear. I turn my head, smiling as he works. I feel disembodied, as if I’m levitating from the table as I stare blankly up. Pete pauses to lube both his hands, and I draw a deep breath, exhaling as I feel him twisting two-handed into my exposed and vulnerable cunt.
He slides in with a firm push, the mouth of my pussy hugging his wrists. His body rocks forward and back slowly as he pumps me deep. I moan as I feel his hands separating within me. In this position he draws his hands up, pressing my pussy apart as he halfway exits, then holding his hands static, pushes back in. He turns his hands, his knuckles rubbing my cervix as once more he unlocks his fingers and pulls. “Do you see what I’m doing?” Pete asks his rapt audience. “By loosening up my hands or even pushing in opposite directions, I can expand her as I work.”
I take deep breaths as Pete sinks widely back down. With every stroke he separates more, pushing hard against my interior. His hands break the surface and holds me stretched, his half-immersed fingers rotating slowly. “And now I can do this,” he says.”
Embracing his fist with his other hand, he plunges in hard and snaps out. I am grunting along with his strokes, my thighs trembling above my immobilized knees. Pete is turning his hands as he thrusts, twisting more of my juices to the surface. I watch the clock, feeling dizzy as the pounding draws out, the sound of flesh slapping flesh as he connects and sinks down. Ten minutes, and then twenty, unendingly he thrusts. I feel cool air inside my cunt, my pussy staying open as he exits—too relaxed and stretched to spring back. The fisting continues as the men look on, with some of them leaping forward—eager for a glimpse as Pete stops and gapes me, my vagina yawning for the men to see. He fists me again with even more vigor, the men gathering at his back.
“Won’t this destroy her?” one asks as Pete works.
Pete laughs. “Naw, girls are made for this. Why do you think she was wet before I started? She knew it was coming and her body was preparing itself. She hungers for this. It’s a well-known fact; the female body yearns to be opened wide. To be prepared for motherhood.”
The man looked down at Pete. “You sure know a lot of things.”
“He reads,” says Trent with a chuckle. “As in all the time! Mr. Bookworm here.”
“I also talk to my girl.” Pete nods at me. “Ask her yourself. Dani, do you enjoy being fisted?”
The men wheel toward me, the ones still seated tilting to see my face. I moan and lick my lips, trying to think beyond the pounding.
“She’s still too drugged,” Trent says. “I don’t think—”
Pete cuts him off. “Dani,” he repeats loudly over my grunts. “Do you want these hands inside you?”
I fight to focus on his face. “I . . . “
“Yes?” Pete urges.
“Yes!” I gasp. “Yes, I want . . . yes, please!”
“There you have it.” Pete parts his hands again as he works, the airy noises from my cunt filling the little room. Again he gapes me, holding me open for the men to see.
“Can you try fisting one handed while your friend does that?” The man who was Jake’s partner askes. “So we can see your hand inside?”
Pete brightens at this idea and nods to Trent. The larger boy reaches past Pete with both hands, his fingers gripping the bony top of my vagina for leverage while he stretches my lower wall down. Pete adds fingers to press back one side as his fist passes into my gaping cunt. Slowly he fists, his hand and wrist more visible now as it penetrates my body.
“Okay, now do behind,” Jake says, licking his lips. “I assume you prepared her for that ahead of time, too?”
“You men work hard; we wanted to give you a good show,” Trent replies. He is grinning as he hurries to flip me onto my side. My leg is lifted, held aloft by the rings above the bed. I am scooted down until the lower half of my buttocks extends over the table. My right foot drifts limply to the floor before Trent scoops it up, pushing my knee forward against my chest and securing it with straps to my body.
Trent smears lube on his arms while Pete adjusts the light. “Do you want me to start her for you?” he asks, and Trent shakes his head.
“No, I got this. It’s pretty easy once you get in.”
Pete moves up beside me, catching my closest breast and kneading it hard. I feel Trent probing my anus with his fingers, slipping in fingers one by one. Slowly the hand works itself in, the fingers clamped into a cone shape. I feel the soft give as Trent slides into my rectum all at once, the tissue yielding as he ventures inward. “Nice,” Pete croons gently. “You’re a very good girl, Dani. Open wider for him, will you?”
I sigh as the hand sinks into the deepest well at the core of my being. Trent leans his body forward, his knuckles rotating back and forth. Ever so slowly he withdraws his arm, then with a firm solid pressure, thrusts in to his elbow.
I lay very still. I had never experienced just the anal by itself. The strokes are long and easy within my half-numbed body, the hand rising shallow toward my anus, then plunging back deep. The gas escaping from around his wrist makes my face burn hot. “Remember what matters,” Pete whispers in my ear. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He moves to crouch beside Trent. The larger boy is standing, using the weight of his body to pump in and out. Pete stirs the fluids of my cunt with his fingers, playing at the edges of my opening, using the lamp to explore it out. He expands it wide with two fingers from each hand, then inserts three as far as he can, reaching in and drawing out. He moistens the pink interior of my opened folds with my juices, then dives back in with four fingers now, turning them slowly within my opening. He stretches the lower wall of my pussy, then plunges deep with his free hand, fisting hard and fast alongside Trent. I am groaning now despite myself, the two hands filling my body. Then Pete clamps his free hand around his wrist, sliding in to my half-numbed cunt with just the slightest pause of resistance. The men are around us now, some taking pictures with their phones. The three hands plunge and retreat, dive in and pull out, my body rocking in time with the rhythm of their thrus
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Fucking on the stairs at the beach
Fucking on the stairs at the beach · One on One · It was June and the weather was a perfect 75 degrees on that summer night at San Elijo State beach park, in north county of San Diego. I was walking around the campgrounds there while drinking a beer. Just needed to stretch my legs and wanted to see if I could see if there was any surf. It was around 10pm when I saw this cute little blonde outside the laundry on the side of the park store. We exchanged hellos and a conversation ensued. I was very attracted to her and she was clearly attracted to me. As we talked we became more friendly and when I asked her what camp site she was in she told me that she'd show me if I'd walk her back with her laundry. It was now like 1200 am and I think she was little scared to be alone. Anyway we walked back to her camp and I was surprised to find that she was camped right next to where I was. We both had a little laugh. She put her laundry in her tent and returned to the road in front of her site where I was waiting. I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk and she happily agreed. We walk back to the store area and we leaned against the fence and looked out over the ocean. It was almost a full moon that night and the view was awesome. As we talked she nestled up against me saying she was cold. I put my arms around her as she leaned into me. Cold my ass this chick was red hot and on fire. I kissed her on the forehead as that was perfectly in line with my chin. She looked up with those baby blue eyes and it was on and cracking. I kissed her on her pouting lips and a heated make-out session ensued. Before I knew it she was rubbing my cock and I was fingering her pushy. Needless to say things were getting hot fast. We scurried down a couple of flights of stairs and I gently laid her on a bench that was on one of the stairs landing. It was for people to sit if they got tired from climbing all the stairs from the beach to the campground. Anyway, I laid on top fo her and while still fully Maki g out pulled out my cock and after wrestling the three layers of clothes she had on I was able to slide my cock deep inside her sweet cunt which was dripping wet. I fucked her deep and hard on that little bench until we both exploded our loads. I couldn't believe it I had just met this chick and she didn't seem like a slut or party girl either... as we got up and sat on a bench another two landings down I realized I was still hard as a rock for her. She was sitting I was standing with my still slightly wet cock stiff and getting cooled off by the night breeze. My hard cock was right in front of her face and to be cont....
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Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2)
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense!
I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands.
Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air.
Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs.
Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties.
Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face.
“What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?”
Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.”
I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard.
I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs.
I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river.
For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog.
The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls.
I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think.
The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles.
John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?”
I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus.
“Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet.
“You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly.
“I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?”
I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears.
The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.”
John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?”
The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.”
“Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.”
He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.”
“Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.”
“It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.”
Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?”
“We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt.
Shivering, I close my eyes.
“Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?”
“Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad.
I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light.
“Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall.
They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel.
John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open.
“There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.”
Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.”
“I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.”
“Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.”
“Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp.
John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.”
“Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?”
“At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt.
Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!”
“Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?”
“No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening.
The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out.
“This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.”
John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling.
John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me.
“I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more.
“This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.”
“My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?”
“If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.”
Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him.
“I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face.
“Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips.
“Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?”
Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue.
“You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.”
“I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently.
“That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.”
I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—”
“That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.”
John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.”
I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.”
“So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .”
“Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.”
I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?”
The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.”
I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.”
John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.”
I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy.
“That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.”
“More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John.
Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.”
“That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?”
I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.”
I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.”
“You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.”
I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.”
“Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.”
The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?”
“Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?”
John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?”
I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee.
“You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.”
Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in.
“Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.”
Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works.
“Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.”
I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.”
I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . .
My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend.
“Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep.
“Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.”
I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!”
He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.”
I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts.
There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.”
I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles.
“Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!”
“Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out.
“I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.”
“Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.”
I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth.
Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers.
“Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.”
I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly.
I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out.
John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue.
At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit.
“Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.”
I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.”
“Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face.
I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.”
Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.”
I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!”
“Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works.
“If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.”
I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?”
Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins.
End of Part 2
Photography Hobby
Photography Hobby · Incest And Taboo · This story is a work of fiction.
There are many advantages of being very wealthy as you might imagine but for me the best part is the ability to follow your lusts to any degree you want.
I have always found young girls and boys to be a secret desire for me, so at one point I opened a photography studio and fully equipped it with the latest cameras and computers just to take pictures of a particular girl. That project went well for a few months before it ran its course and mom wouldn’t let her little girl do any more modeling, and quite honestly I had forgotten about the studio, until my phone rang.
I had posted some ads months’ earlier about child modeling and part of the ad read that you could make 1000’s a week for the right person. The mom calling me sounded a little strung out and really desperate to know how she could get the big payday, so I gave her the basic rundown of how the modeling world runs. We could meet and I would take some photos of her daughter in various scenarios and different outfits – all of which I would provide – then I would send some out to my list of clients and see if they were interested. I usually send 25 photographs for an introduction and if they like them I will sell the 25 photos for $10-$25 per picture. This would make the Mom $500-$750 each set – minus my 20 % commission. (I had to take something for all my “work” or she would be suspicious of my motives) Mom eagerly agreed to this and we made an appointment for the very next day at 10am to meet for the first shoot.
After I hung up with her I went to my studio and started getting everything ready. It had been almost a year since my last model and I had to get familiar with the set up all over again. Satisfied that the video cameras were working and all the hard drives were empty I left for the night with great expectations for the morning. I was not disappointed in the morning as mom and her daughter showed up early for our appointment. I was spot on with my analysis of mom – she looked like a meth head and had erratic body movements which were most of the time a total alarm for being around them, unless she is in possession of a beautiful 9-10 year old girl that wants to become a payday model for mom. We introduced ourselves and I had to struggle to keep calm when looking at her daughter, Lisa. She was nothing like her mom almost to the point that I wondered if they were even related. I explained again how this would work and took a chance with Mom (I don’t remember her name at all) and told her that it was usually best if she wasn’t in the studio during shoots. She seemed almost relieved and as soon as she had signed the parental release form she left without even saying bye to Lisa. With just the 2 of us there I was surprised to find that Lisa was very comfortable and was excited about modeling. We went to the back dressing room where I had racks of different outfits ranging from Tennis clothes to lingerie and we started going through them looking for the right fit. She was a natural and loved the clothes so I let he pick out 5 outfits herself, all of which were very modest, and I picked out a shorts and halter top and a bikini that was just a little too small. I told her I would wait outside for her to change into the first outfit and then we could begin the shoot on the set that I had set up last night. I went back up front and check my computer that was hooked up to the PTZ high definition camera in the changing room and watched Lisa as she changed into the first outfit. I noticed she was wearing baggy white granny panties and made a mental not to change that as soon as I could. The photo shoot went great and after 2 hours Mom came back and I told her that I had 100’s of G-rated photos that I would go through and “edit” for my clients (Little did she know that I was my only client) and I would let he know what they thought of Lisa in 2 days. She seemed a little put off that it would take 2 whole days to find something out and her lack of patience made me even happier.
For the next 2 days I did create a portfolio of 50 pictures just in case Mom wanted to see what we had done – but as it turned out she never even asked. I also watched the changing room footage at least 50 times. Lisa absolutely loved all the clothes. She would run into the room to change into the next outfit and as she would dress she would stand in the mirror and turn at every angle to see how she looked in each piece. The bikini was her favorite, or at least that was the outfit she spent the longest in front of the mirror. As I suspected it was about 1 size too small for her and it made her ass pop in the back and showed off her plump pussy to perfection. This girl was my whole package: bubble butt, flat chest with barley budding nipples, and a fat camel toe. She noticed the camel toe too as she stood in front of the mirror and pulled her bathing suit bottoms in every direction to see if it would change. After realizing it didn’t matter how she pulled, it was still a pronounced bulge she tried pushing down on the front of her pubis to see if she could flatten it out. Watching her do this to herself for about 4 minutes was the highlight of the film and I couldn’t wait to get her back in the studio. So I called mom back and told her I had “sold” 3 sets to my clients and we should go ahead and do another shoot. She was as you can suspect very excited and we agreed to meet later that day at the studio. I took $1500 cash with me in an envelope and when she got there I made a production about paying her share to her and then asking her for the $300 commission for me. She quickly handed me the money and I asked Lisa if she was ready for another shoot. She smiled and said sure and this time I told Mom that we would need 4 hours and she was off in a flash with her cash in hand.
I looked at Lisa and she looked a little tousled and her hair was uncombed so I told her that today we would start with makeup and hair and for her to follow me to the back. I spent a good 45 minutes brushing her hair and talking to her about how makeup would make her look older and more sophisticated and she confided in me that she had never worn makeup before and was excited to try it but didn’t know how. I am not a makeup artist by any means but I did my best and showed her how to apply and blend and when enough is enough. We then went back to the dressing room where I had laid out 4 sets of new underwear, bikini cut, low cut, sheer, and a thong and showed them to her. I told her today we would be taking pictures for underwear ads and we would start with these. She asked about what top to wear and I casually told her that a top wasn’t needed for the shoot as I was only taking shots of the underwear and a top could get in the way, and that I would wait for her on the set. I couldn’t believe it was that easy and I rushed to my computer to watch the show about to go on in the dressing room. When I turned it on she was still dressed standing in front of the counter holding up the thong, and then I started to get nervous. What if she wasn’t going to do it? What if she asked for her Mom to come back? As these scenarios were running through my head she started stripping down and picked up the bikini underwear and pulled them on. These were a perfect fit and you could see a bulge in front but not a full camel toe and she spun around in front of the mirror for a good 5 minutes before walking out of the dressing room wearing only the light yellow panties. My throat was dry and I took a sip of water as she entered the studio and told her she was beautiful. Lisa was a natural and slightly blushed as she made her way to the set. I had put a sofa there this morning and made a show of getting her arranged for the first shoot. Positioning her sitting and looking back over her shoulder and having her long hair come down and cover her nipples. I told her that in the pictures she couldn’t be “nude” but the goal was to seem as though she was nude. She seemed to get it and was incredibly comfortable with me helping pose her. I went back to the camera and started taking pics and started asking her to move and sit in different positions. She was truly a natural so I decided to push it a little and asked her to get on her hands and knees and look back over her shoulder so I could get a picture of her behind. She looked and little puzzled and asked why I would want a picture of her behind, so I told her that my clients thought she was very pretty and enjoyed looking at her, especially her bottom. I’m not sure she understood my explanation but she assumed the position and as she looked back at me I thought the amount of precum oozing out of my cock would have a wet spot the size of a softball on the front of my shorts. I told her that was enough for this pair of panties to go and put on another and off she bounced to the dressing room. She saved the sheer pair for the last and was a little self-conscious when she came back to the set with her hands in front of her nearly naked pussy. She sheepishly told me that you could see right through this pair of underwear and she didn’t know if she should have them on. I acted concerned and went over to her and asked her to show me. I knelt down and she slowly removed her hands from in front of her and the most beautiful bald pussy was on full display to me. I knew I would have trouble standing up so I stayed there for a minute and reassured her that she was beautiful and that my clients were going to love her in these panties. I had one hand on her shoulder and she had gotten accustomed to bringing her hair down her front to cover her nipples and I casually brushed one of the sides of hair back and brushed her cheek lovingly and told her again how pretty she was. She smiled and slowly went over to the couch to do this final shoot. She had all the poses down from memory and I loved the view as she went from pose to pose – and then she asked the question that I wasn’t ready for: “Why do your clients like to see me without clothes on?” Don’t get me wrong I knew this was inevitable but still wasn’t sure how to play this out. I decided to be honest and told her I was going to treat her like an adult and tell her the truth. I asked her if she ever played with herself, you know rub yourself down there. She was posing at this time sitting on the couch with both legs pulled up and chin resting on her knees, and when I asked that she turned beet red instantly and looked away. I didn’t give her time to reply and continued with my response. I told her that my clients thought she was very beautiful, sexy even, and when they looked at her in the poses it made them excited and they would masturbate to the pictures. Trying to keep the photo shoot moving forward I asked her to assume another position which she quietly did, and then she asked me if I got excited looking at her. I thought about it for a second and told her yes, I thought she was very sexy and really enjoyed taking her pictures. She wasn’t satisfied with my answer and told me that wasn’t what she asked; she wanted to know if I masturbated to her pictures. This was it – this was the line I had never crossed. As much as I enjoyed the visualization of young girls and boys, I never played it out in reality. It had always just been a fantasy for me and I was comfortable with that. Now I was confronted with both lying to Lisa and being somewhat safe, or telling her the truth and see if she ran and told mom. Once again I appealed to her youthful desire to be a grown up and told her that I would always treat her as an adult and tell he the truth: Yes I would masturbate while looking at her pictures. She smiled and looked way as I asked her for the next position and she complied. Nothing else sexual was discussed that day and as she was getting dressed Mom came back in the studio, obviously high as a kite and very touchy-feely with me. I did my best to fend her off but Lisa came into the room while Mom was grabbing my crotch and me trying to politely push her away. I was embarrassed for Lisa but Mom quickly said she had seen more than that before and grabbed her and started walking out. Mom looked back at me as said: “2 days until payday?” I replied that I should hear back from my clients by tomorrow so 2 days would be perfect.
After they left I once again made a portfolio of 50 pics that were suitable to show Mom should she ask – but only after rubbing out an amazing orgasm looking at the pics of Lisa in the sheer panties. I thought back to Lisa’s questions and how she reacted to my answers and I felt as though Lisa viewed me as a trusted confidant and that Mom viewed me as a payday for drugs. I actually felt good about both.
Mom and Lisa came back to the studio in 2 days and I had decided to up the game and this time I told Mom that I had 7 clients that would pay me $500 for the sets – and I thought she was going to jump over the counter and rape me. I gave her an envelope with $3500 in it and asked her for my 20% - which after way too much figuring in her head I told her it would be $700 and she reluctantly counted it out to me. I have to admit it as amusing for her to “pay me” with my own money, but the game was afoot and the less she knew the better. I asked Lisa if she was ready for another shoot and she smiled and said sure, but since it was already after lunch time I asked if we could schedule for the next day at 10:00 and told mom that we would need until 5:00 to get the next set competed. Mom was already daydreaming about the drugs she could go buy and just said yeah and walked out the door before Lisa did. I put my hand on Lisa’s shoulder and walked with her to the door and told her that she looked beautiful and I couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow. When we go to the door Lisa turned and gave me a full hug and just said goodbye and walked out. The real reason I didn’t want to shoot a set that day was that I was waiting on some lingerie to be delivered. It’s not all that easy to find sexy lingerie that will fit a 10 year old so I had to order some online and it wouldn’t be there until later today. I spent the next few hours setting up the set for tomorrows shoot and then FedEx delivered. I was like a kid at Christmas as I unwrapped the boxes that contained 6 different lingerie ensembles that included fishnet stockings, garters, fishnet body suit, and see through baby doll teddies. All in all every secret fetish I had was all laid out for Lisa to model the next day.
I was at the studio at 8:30 in anticipation of Lisa coming in and the clock was moving slower than ever in my anticipation of her 10:00 appointment. 10:00 came and went with no Lisa. I was nervous and thought again about if I had properly hidden all of the hard drives with the non PG rated pics I had and if there was anything incriminating here if angry mom of the police showed up – the answer was I was good. It was now 10:30 and no Lisa. I was pacing back and forth and thinking about gathering all of my drives from the safe and leaving with in walks Lisa without Mom. Lisa looked awful; wrinkled dirty clothes, wild hair, and puffy eyes like she had been crying. I came over to her and dropped down on one knee and took he head in my hands and asked her what was wrong? Was she OK? She started sniffing like holding back a cry and said that her mom had left her at her boyfriend’s house and they had gone out to buy drugs and never came back. She took enough change from the boyfriends counter to catch a bus over here and that she was sorry she was late. I told her to come to the back and she was going to take a shower, pick out an outfit, and we were going out for lunch – anywhere she wanted. She seemed a little relieved and said she was hungry, but she asked if we were still going to take pictures today. She said her mom would be mad if she didn’t sell more pictures and she didn’t want her to be mad at her. After leaving her daughter at a druggies house overnight with no food – Lisa was still concerned about her mom’s feelings. She was a better person than me. I went back to my computer and watched Lisa take a shower and wash her hair. She was beautiful and innocent in her movements and I followed her from the shower to the changing room on camera and watched her go through the clothes rack while wrapped in a towel. She picked out a cute tennis skirt and top then went over to the bureau and opened the drawer we had all of her underwear in. I almost passed out when I watched her pull out the sheer pair of panties and pull them on. She stood in front of the mirror admiring herself for a moment then continued to dress and come up front. She looked amazing even with wet hair and especially since I knew what she had on underneath. I asked her where she what she would like to eat and she said Pizza – so I picked the place and off we went. As we were sitting in the booth across from each other, she on her third piece of pizza and me on my first, I asked her how she liked being a model and she said it was the best job in the entire world and she hoped to do this forever. She then asked me about my clients and how did I know them, how did I know what they did while looking at her pictures. I explained that there were a lot of grown men that found young girls attractive and since society said it was wrong for them to do so they were willing to pay money to see pictures without anyone knowing who they were. I told her that it should make her feel very special that these clients would pay money to see her – and she smiled and said it made her feel very special and especially special since I liked masturbating to her pictures her too. I almost choked as she said this and looked around to make sure nobody overheard her and thankfully no one had. She laughed at my reaction and not to worry she had made sure that there was nobody close enough to hear her. This little girl was amazing and had me twisted up like a pretzel. One part of me wanted to devour her like a piece of decadent chocolate cake and another part of me wanted to run and hide. The hard on in my pants was winning at the moment and I paid the bill and we headed back to the studio.
When we got back Lisa was all business and went straight to the changing room to get into today's outfit. I was extremely nervous when I opened a drawer and started laying out the different sets of lingerie with all of the components for each outfit in the same piles. I told her that today we would be doing adult sleepwear and lingerie and showed her each stack saying that all of these parts were to be worn together for the full effect, and then asked her if she had any questions or needed any help. She was holding up the fishnet body suit and had a puzzled look on her face, but she shook her head no, so I told her I would wait outside on the set for her. Back at my cameras I watched Lisa go through all the outfits one by one and inspecting each set very closely. I think my saving grace with Lisa was that the tags were still on the outfits and each one had a picture of an adult model wearing it, so Lisa had a visual image to follow. After a few minutes she chose the black fishnet stocking with the garters and matching panties and bra. This was by far the most complicated outfit I had – but it was also the most covering of all. It took Lisa about 15 minutes to finally come out of the changing room and I had enjoyed every minute watching her on camera trying to figure it all out – and she did finally succeed. When she came to the set and walked over to the white velour chaise lounge I had set up I just stood and stared with my mouth open, and finally my senses came to me and I told her that she was absolutely beautiful and I didn’t think I had ever seen such beauty before. This was not a lie – she was stunning and had an air of sophistication many adults would be jealous of. She sat down on the chaise and I went over to her and told her that with these outfits she was going to pretend to be inviting her boyfriend over to join her on the lounge chair. I went on to remind her that she was fully clothed but looked very sexy and that was what we wanted to capture on the camera. She smiled and nodded her head without saying a word so I went back to my camera and started the shoot giving her step by step directions on how to sit, where to look, mouth open or closed, every detail I could think of to give her innocent young self a look of sophisticated slutty that would carry through to the pictures. When she got to the sheer baby doll teddy outfit she stuck her head out of the changing room and yelled to me that there weren’t any panties for that outfit. I yelled back that it was ok – she wouldn’t be nude but would give the appearance of being nude and I would be careful with my camera directions. Yes I would be very careful with where I pointed that camera and my first shot was here walking to the set in that light pink sheer teddy that displayed all of her young exquisite body to perfection. She didn’t seem too shy about her appearance and started going through all the same poses we had done before with a little encouragement from me. After about 10 minutes I told her that I wanted to focus on just her face for a set of photos and wanted her to make a face like she was all alone in her room and was thinking about her boyfriend and was playing with herself. She just looked at me in bewilderment for a few seconds and told me that she didn’t have a boyfriend – and that she didn’t know what her face looked like when she did that. I realized that she didn’t deny masturbating and my heart skipped a beat – but now I had to figure out a way for her to replicate her facial expressions during that very private moment so I could capture it for prosperity on camera. I asked her if she had ever seen a video of a woman – I made sure to use the word woman – masturbate before and she shook her head no. I set my camera down and went over to my computer on the counter and within 45 seconds I had a video of a beautiful blonde model masturbating on a white bed. This was a very artistic piece of porn that I knew very well and when it was cued up I asked Lisa to come over and let me show her something. She walked over to the camera, still in her sheer teddy and looked at the screen where you could see the paused video of this model's face and shoulders. She had her eyes closed and her mouth was slightly open with her tongue running across her upper lip. I told Lisa that this was the look that we were shooting for and then casually asked her if she wanted to watch the video to get some modeling pointers for this photo shoot we were doing. While never looking away from the computer screen she nodded yes and I hit play. I knew this specific video by heart – all 13 minutes of it so as Lisa stood beside me as I was sitting in my chair I watched her reactions more than I did the video, but still made an attempt to make “professional” comments from time to time on how she would move and look. I never touched her or offered her to sit on my lap – I was too nervous to do so – so she stood there all 13 minutes watching intently on this beautiful woman make herself have a very apparent and wet orgasm. I was hard as a rock and had a small wet spot on the front of my pants from watching Lisa stare at the show in front of her and switch her weight from foot to foot from what I could only guess (hope) was arousal from the video. When the woman ran her fingers through her dripping pussy after her orgasm and brought them to her mouth to suck clean, Lisa made a little gasp and leaned in slightly to get a better view. When the video finished I tried to be “professional” again and asked Lisa if she could mimic what the woman did in the video she sheepishly said yes and walked back to the chaise lounge. I straightened out my cock and went back and got my camera and walked to the end of the chaise to start the set when Lisa asked me if that was what men liked, did they enjoy watching women do that? I thought about it longer than I really needed to and told her yes, men enjoyed looking at beautiful girls and especially beautiful girls enjoying themselves as much as that model had been doing. Lisa thought about it for a minute while still laying there with her hands in her lap and asked me if I had masturbated watching that girl in the video before? I smiled and told her yes, but that was our secret and not to tell anyone. She seemed to like that answer and asked me how she should start. I told her to lay down with just her head propped up on the pillow, arch her head back some and close her eyes. She started arranging herself as I had requested then I thought time had stopped – or at least my breathing did. Lisa had her right hand between her legs slowly rubbing her clit in a circular motion with both legs slightly bent at the knees. From the end of the chaise I had the perfect vantage point for this and for a few seconds I forgot to take any pictures. She had forgotten that I wanted head shots of this intimate act and instead after watching the video she assumed (correctly so by the way) that I wanted her to masturbate, so here she was. She had watched the video very closely as she mimicked the blonde model very well. She was spreading her pussy lips wide and licking her fingers to get wet, then slowly pushing one finger in and out of her hairless pussy then rubbing her swollen little clit, then back to the insertion. I got into the scene and started taking pictures frantically thinking how much I needed to cum and how I would be able to look at these whenever I wanted and jerk until my arm was too sore to do it anymore. She was really enjoying this – not acting - and her expressions were perfect, but after about 10 minutes she stopped and told me that it felt good when she did that but the girl on the video made it look like it felt so much better. I quickly surmised that Lisa had never had an orgasm, but had only had the enjoyment of stimulation, so I set my camera down and sat down on the end of the chaise. Lisa scooted up so she was upright leaning back on the arm with her legs stretched out and crossed in front of her and I started explaining an orgasm to her. I explained that it was something that would build and build until it felt like she was going to burst or pee and then it would wash over her like a big wave of pleasure. She told me that she could feel it building up but it never got to the level of exploding, and then asked if it was the same way for men? I told her it was exactly the same feeling but when a man had an orgasm he would shoot cream from his penis – yes I was still trying to be professional. She kind of giggled and told me she wanted to watch me masturbate as it was only fair, and that I had already told her I would masturbate to pics of her and the video of the blonde girl. I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do but in my state of extreme horniness I agreed to masturbate and told her to watch closely and I would let her know when I was going to have an orgasm and shoot my cream out. She was giddy with anticipation and sat up on her knees at the end of the chaise while I stood and dropped my pants to the floor. When I pulled my underwear down she gasped and had both hands over her mouth and both eyes wide open on my cock which was dripping a long stream of precum. She pointed and asked what that liquid was so I explained precum as a tasty lubricant to help intercourse between a man and a woman more fun. I don’t know if she understood any of that but I sat back down and wrapped my hand around my cock and slowly started moving it up and down. I could look over to my left and see all of Lisa in her nude teddy staring at me pumping my cock and I knew I wasn’t going to last long, so I told her I was about to have an orgasm. Lisa leaned a little closer to get a good view and the first shot of cum flew up and hit my neck (I was extremely excited and hadn’t cum like that in years) and the second then third shot covered my hand and crotch. I was breathless and swore that was the best orgasm I had ever had – then I remembers the video of the blonde girl licking her fingers clean, so I brought my hand to my mouth and slowly licked all the cum off, then wiped the cum off my neck and cleaned my fingers again. All this time Lisa hadn’t said a word but just watched me intently with a flushed face and neck as I sat there breathing heavily enjoying the post orgasm experience. I then told her that was what it was like for a man to have an orgasm and asked her what she thought? She said that was the most awesome thing she had ever seen and asked me if I would do it again. I laughed and told her that unlike women, men needed a little time between orgasms so they could recover and I pointed to my now deflated cock and told her see? It was down for the count for a while. She was good with that answer and I noticed much to my dismay that her mom should be there in 30 minutes so I told her that we were done shooting for the day to go get changed and ready for her mom to pick her up. I got dressed myself and started downloading all the pictures for the day onto my hard drive when Lisa came out fully dressed in the outfit she wore to lunch. She quietly asked me if she could wear this outfit home since her other clothes were dirty and she promised to bring it back. I laughed and told her that she could keep those clothes because they would never look as good on anyone else. We sat there until almost 6:00 waiting for her mom with no sign of her, so I asked Lisa if I should take her home and after trying to call her mom a few times she agreed. Before we left I got the release form that her mom had filled out complete with a photocopy of her driver’s license and cell phone number and stuffed it in my pocket.
When we got to Lisa’s apartment complex it was about what I had imagined. Nothing fancy at all and a little run down but somewhat clean with a mixture of all races – mostly young – in the parking areas. I pulled up to her apartment and asked her if she wanted me to walk her to the door and she said no – but then I asked her for her cell number in case she needed anything and she seemed happy to give it to me. I instantly sent her a text so she had my number too, and I watched her go up the stairs to the second floor and into the third door on the left. I sat there for a moment wondering if I was doing the right thing by leaving and if Lisa’s mom was there – or at least would be there soon. I reconciled that I was and pulled out of the complex, while at the same time texting Lisa to make sure. I asked if her mom was there yet and she told me no but that wasn’t unusual, so I asked her to let me know when she did come home and told Lisa again how much I enjoyed being with her today. After I got off the text thread with Lisa I looked up a number in my phone for one of my special clients, who happened to be a chief of police in the next town over, and gave him a call. I told him the story of Lisa’s mom not showing up to pick her up and that I thought she was into drugs and asked if he would do a quick search for any arrests or accidents and let me know. He told me no problem then asked if I had done any more shoots with Lisa to which I replied that the next set I did would be on the house for his work for me. He was happy with that when we ended the call and I made it home before my phone rang. It was my police chief friend and he told me that he had some bad news. Carole, Lisa’s mom (I never could remember her name) and her “friend” were in a car wreck the night before and the person they hit head on was killed. It looked as though both her and her friend were going to make it but when the police go to the wreck they found large amounts of methamphetamines and their toxicology reports showed that they were both high as a kite at the time of the wreck, so once they were out of the hospital they were both going to jail on charges of vehicular homicide and possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute. He told me that they would be lucky to get out of jail in 30 years at the earliest. I hung up the phone with him and was walking around my home in a fog. I couldn’t believe my bad luck. I had finally found exactly what I loved and the relationship was going better than I could have ever dreamed, and now the dumbass druggie mother had ruined it all. I poured myself a drink and went out to my back porch that overlooked the Gulf of Mexico and pondered my options. I had to tell Lisa but when I did what would she do and where would she go? Did she have relatives here? After my drink was finished I knew I had to do the right thing so I got in my car and drove back to Lisa’s apartment. When I got there I called from the parking lot and told her I needed to talk to her and asked if I could come up. She opened her door with the phone still in her hand and waved me up. I know I shouldn’t have been noticing things like this but I noted she was still wearing that cute short tennis skirt and it made me happy – just for a moment. When I got inside and looked around I instantly was depressed. A futon, a folding camp chair and a 1990’s era tube TV were the only furnishings in the living room. I sat on the futon and told Lisa to come and sit beside me, and then I recounted the story my police friend had told me earlier. As expected Lisa started crying and we held each other for a good 10 minutes while she cried and processed the information I had given her, and when she had stopped crying I asked her about any family in the area. She told me that her grandmother had died a few years earlier and that it was only her and her mom now, and she asked if she could go and see her mom in the hospital. I was pretty sure we could arrange something but I told her it might take a few days and I wanted her to come and stay at my home while we worked everything out. She nodded her head in agreement and we went around packing what few things she had and set off for my home. As I mentioned in the beginning of the story there are many advantages of being wealthy, and another is to be able to have a 3 story, 8 bedroom home on the beach. When we pulled up to my home the look of amazement in Lisa’s eyes was enough to make her momentarily forget about the problems her mother was facing. She got out of my car and I grabbed her bag and inside we went. I took her to the bedroom that was across the hall from mine and gave her a tour. It had a spa tub, walk-in rain shower, and a private balcony overlooking the beach – and was able to look onto my adjoining balcony. I told her to unpack, relax, take a shower or watch TV and I was going to go and make us something to eat and she could come down when she was ready.
I made simple chicken Alfredo pasta and she ate like she was starving. I had a couple glasses of wine and I had a bottle of sparkling grape juice that Lisa enjoyed from a wine glass like mine, and we had a nice but quiet dinner. After dinner we cleaned up the kitchen together and then we both went to our separate bedrooms after agreeing that first thing in the morning we would look into visiting her mom in the hospital. I lay in bed thinking back to watching Lisa masturbate, then Lisa watching me masturbate, and I wished I had brought a copy of that video home with me. The memory was more than enough for that night as I quickly shot a load all over my stomach and went peacefully asleep. About 3:00 I was startled awake with Lisa slightly shaking my shoulder. I woke up and could tell that she had been crying and she told me that she couldn’t sleep and was scared and wanted to know if she could sleep with me. I told her of course and she climbed in beside me and I wrapped her in my arms holding her tightly until I could hear her breathing even out and I knew she was asleep. I was proud of myself for not taking this moment as a sexual moment – could have helped that I had jerked off a couple hours earlier – but just wanted Lisa to feel safe, and then I fell asleep too. I woke in the morning with Lisa still in my arms, but she had spun around and now had her back to me with my rock hard morning wood nestled on her panties, which just so happened to be the sheer pair she had put on the day before. I was scared to move as I was enjoying the look and feel of what I woke up to, but I had to pee, so I carefully rolled out the other side of my bed and took care of my needs quietly and went downstairs. I called my police friend and inquired about how to get her daughter in to see her in the hospital and that proved to be harder than I thought due to the homicide charges, but as it turned out a lawyer could get in. I then called another client of my photography studio who was a lawyer. Even though he specialized in real estate law I gave him an overview of what I wanted and agreed to pay his fees in full. I was on my second cup of coffee feeling pretty good about what I was planning when Lisa came down to the kitchen. I explained that the only person allowed to see her mom right now was her lawyer and I had hired one that morning that was going to go see her today and give us an update on her condition. What I didn’t tell Lisa was the main reason he was going to see her – I would wait until I found out how she took the offer before telling her. I then told Lisa we would have breakfast then go shopping for new clothes and she had to have a couple of different swim suits if she was going to stay with me here for a while on the beach. She instantly lit up and went upstairs to shower and change. We spent the entire day shopping and bought 3 swim suits and 12 outfits complete with 8 pairs of pretty little girl panties – nothing sexy but cute Cinderella, princess panties befitting a girl her age. After we got back home that evening I pooped and suggested we order out and Lisa ran upstairs to put away all of her new clothes. She came downstairs a bit dressed in a cute pair of short shorts and a halter top we had purchased earlier and we ate Chinese and watched cartoons on the couch. She asked if I had heard anything from my lawyer friend and I told her I hadn’t yet but not to worry, this might take a day or two and she seemed happy with that answer and went back to watching TV. A few minutes later she quietly asked if she was still going to be able to be a model. I leaned over and gave her a one arm hug and told her that she could be a model as long as she wanted to and I loved taking pictures of her. Lisa asked when we could do another shoot and I suggested we do her swimsuits she just bought first thing in the morning. She smiled and said great, and then we snuggled together and finished watching the movie. When I told her it was time to go to bed we both went upstairs to our own rooms. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was dressed as I usually was in my boxers for bed when there was a knock at my door. I told Lisa to come in and when she saw me standing at the foot of my bed only in my boxers she paused for a moment then came on over to the bed right in front of me. While looking down at the floor and pulling the hem of her nightshirt she sheepishly asked if she could sleep with me again, she was too afraid to be in this big house all by herself. I of course instantly agreed and we snuggled up to each other with her spooning me from behind. She had her arm around my chest with her hand resting on my nipple and it slowly became hard as a diamond – then my cock followed suit. There was nothing overtly sexual but the feeling of her holding me from behind was sensual and electric. She fell asleep much more quickly than I did but I finally managed to doze off. When I woke up that morning I was still rock hard but my cock was now sticking out of my boxers and I was lying on my back with Lisa’s hand on my stomach and the covers at the end of the bed. As I would take a breath in it would make the tip of my cock slightly brush her wrist and I realized it must have been doing this for a while because there was a string of precum from her wrist to the tip of my cock and pooling on my stomach. I wanted so bad to cum it almost hurt but I didn’t know how to move without waking Lisa. As I was trying to figure out a solution Lisa moved her hand and lightly ran her fingers down the shaft of my cock sending shivers all over me and making me hold my breath for a second. She got to my balls and gingerly rolled them around feeling their weight in her hand then she wrapped her hand around my cock – a little too tightly but I wasn’t going to complain – and slowly started jacking me off. At this point neither of us had said a word and she quietly asked me if she was doing this the right way, the way she had watched me do it at the studio. I moaned a yes, and don't stop, then erupted all over my chest and her hand. She smiled big and continued to slowly jack my cock milking all of the cum out until it went limp, then to my amazement she brought her hand to her mouth and cautiously licked her finger that was covered in my cum. Then when she decided it wasn’t icky, she licked her wrist and fingers clean, then wiped my chest with her fingers and cleaned them again. Watching her do this almost made me hard again and I rolled on my side and gave her a chaste kiss on her lips and told her how beautiful she was and how wonderful that made me feel. She just smiled and while still holding my now limp cock leaned in and kissed me again, but this time a little more passionately. I opened my lips slightly and flicked my tongue across her lips and she quickly picked up on this new game and in no time we were passionately French kissing. I broke the kiss after a few minutes and asked her if she would like me to give her an orgasm like she had done for me and she breathlessly said yes. I resumed kissing her and pulled her nightshirt up to the point we had to break apart and she finished pulling it off her body showing me her fabulous little nipples and completely flat chest. I lowered my head and kissed her neck and trailed down to her nipples and lightly kissed and licked them as they became rock hard. She was moaning at this point and writhing on the bed, and I hadn’t touched her pussy yet. I think she had a small orgasm from just my kissing of her tits but I wasn’t 100% sure. I slowly worked my kisses down her stomach and her navel sending her into another level of writhing and giggling as I reached up on both sides of her panties and slowly pulled them down. These were My Little Pony panties and as they cleared the bottom of her gorgeous bald pussy I could see a faint wet spot on the crotch, and since my nose was only inches away I could smell a very sweet but faint scent of pussy. I was enthralled and for probably a minute or two I just sat there looking at this beautiful sight, until Lisa had enough of me waiting and removed her panties herself. I returned to kissing her navel and moved down to her pubis, then her thighs as I spread her legs a little to see my prize. Her little bald pussy slowly opened up and I could see the little nub of her clit already swollen and red poking out. She was slightly wet already but when I ran my tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top and slightly sucked on her clit her juices flooded into my mouth as she clenched my head with her legs and arched her back. She shuddered and gasped and she experienced her first orgasm and I let her slowly start to come down from the feeling when I started in on her clit again. This time it took a few minutes but she was soon bucking and moaning as she grabbed my head with her hands and pulled me deeper into her crotch. I continued to work on her sweet beautiful pussy until she had enjoyed 4 orgasms and was breathing like she had just ran 5 miles, and then I crawled back up to her and took her in my arms and kissed her deeply. Her tongue was swirling around mine, tasting her sweet nectar, greedily licking my face clean. I was rock hard again at this point and wanted to fuck her so badly but I knew I shouldn’t push my luck so I suggested I go make us breakfast and she could shower and try on one of her new swim suits for a photo shoot at the beach. She agreed and bounced out of the bed into my bathroom and I heard the shower start. I thought I would take this opportunity to relieve my aching balls so I closed my eyes and lingered on the look and taste of Lisa’s beautiful pussy and started jerking my hard cock. I had no sooner started when I heard Lisa say “Hey that’s my job now!” She came over and stood at the side of the bed and removed my hand from my cock and replaced it with hers. Standing there completely nude with me watching her jack my cock was a visual I will never get out of my head – but in true fashion of never being satisfied I told her to kiss it like I kissed her and it would feel even better. She stopped jerking and just held my cock straight up and kissed the tip that was leaking precum. She licked her lips and then licked the head of my cock. I moaned with pleasure and told her to suck on the head like it was a lollipop – and she took off like a pro. As she was sucking the head I placed my hand over hers and started jacking my cock again and she picked up on that – and the pace – quickly. I thought I mumbled I was going to cum but to be honest I wanted to cum in her mouth so badly I might not have, and I shot my first load into her mouth prompting her to pull back in surprise, and timing the second shot to fly out and hit her on her nose. The rest of my orgasm just dribbled down her hand and she slowly regained her senses as to what was going on and wiped the cum from her nose and face then licked her hand and fingers clean. She giggled and said that she wasn’t expecting that to happen but she sure did enjoy it – and I kissed her again and told her how much I did too and off she ran to her shower that had been running this entire time.
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