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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
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
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my first crossdressed gangbang my first crossdressed gangbang · Crossdressers · Hello! I am a 55-year-old bisexual male who loves to cross-dress, and this is my true gang-bang story. It was a lot of fun and I would love to do it again someday. Maybe when I do, I’ll write about it here. ;) My First Time Crossdressed Gangbang Story I was 26-years-old at the time and traveling all over the country for my job. My work kept me in a new state for about four months, then it was on to the next one. I would always choose a hotel that was close to an adult bookstore or an all-male spa, and if those were not available, a truck stop would do. Luckily, in this case, there was an adult video store about 10 blocks away. Late one night, after a few beers and getting a bit stoned, I got extremely horny. I was in the mood for getting dicked down while dressed like a little slut, and I knew exactly how I wanted it. I had some experience sucking dick and enjoyed the occasional ass pounding now and then, but I had always wanted to be gang-banged bareback by a group of well-hung guys while dressed like the whore I am. But before I set out to fulfill my fantasy, I had to get ready. I showered and shaved my entire body smooth, with special attention to my crotch and ass. I applied makeup, bright and thick to make my eyes and lips pop. Long, trashy red acrylic nails and matching toes rounded out the look of a hot and ready hooker. It was about 10:00 pm when I packed my backpack with everything I needed. I stuffed in my blonde wig, strap-on titties, sexy black lace bra, matching panties, black thigh-high stockings with a bold back seam, garter belt, and a pair of black six-inch stiletto stripper heels. I also made sure to throw in some lube and several dildos of various sizes. As I headed out, I had decided to walk since I was still a little buzzed. I made my way to the local adult video store. I had already been there several times on previous trips, so I knew they had viewing rooms, some with glory holes. That was where the real fun happened. This store was one of my favorite hook-up spots because I could always find easy cock. I was confident that I’d have no problem getting all my holes resized tonight. When I arrived, I noticed it was quite crowded. I went to the counter, got 30 dollars in single bills, and proceeded to the back where the booths were. My favorite booth was available and I took that as a good sign. I liked this particular stall because it was small and had a glory hole on each wall. So if I got on all fours, my ass would be at one hole and my mouth would be at the other. I’d normally just change in the booth, but I was so horny that I decided to change in the restroom. Next, I had to prepare for the night ahead of me and chose to warm up with some intense dildo action. I took the assorted plastic and rubber phalluses out of my bag and got to work. I started with the thinnest one, lubricating it thoroughly before sliding it up my butt. I stroked it in and out of myself for a few minutes, letting it flirt and tease my prostate, quickly getting in the mood. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. I could feel my cock hardening, but I had to resist cumming, lest I spoil my plans for the night. One by one, I repeated this process with all the dildos, working my way up from the smallest to the largest. All the while trying my hardest not to shoot my load all over the restroom stall. Once I was all lubed up and ready to go, I shoved a giant butt plug in my ass. It was so big that it barely fit and kept me stretched open wide. I quickly finished dressing and put on my heels. I was eager to get this show on the road. I walked out into the store proper, where several guys stood around, chatting and laughing. I felt daring as I strutted by them on my way to the booth, making sure to switch my hips to bring attention to my legs and ass. I even winked at them over my shoulder. The cat-calls started almost immediately as more and more patrons took notice of my scandalous getup. I felt like a real slut, and with all the stares I got, I knew that I was in for a good time. I stepped into my stall, purposely not locking the door behind me. I put in a few dollars and selected a sexy gay bareback gang-bang video, the kind I wanted to recreate. I didn’t have to wait a whole minute before a nice, cut cock about eight inches or so came through the glory-hole facing me. At the other hole, I saw another guy watching me and jacking off, so I got down on my hands and knees, settling onto the cum soaked floor. I began to slowly suck the dick in front of me, simultaneously removing the huge plug in my ass. I replaced the plug with a huge dildo with a suction cup base, making sure to give the guy behind me a good view. I stuck the fake dick to the wall just below the hole he was watching and slid my ass onto it, rocking back and forth, putting on a show. The guy behind me must have gotten tired of just watching because he thrust this cock through the glory-hole and tapped my ass with it to get my attention. I briefly paused the blowjob to look back at the new dick. It was huge! Roughly 10 inches long and as thick as my forearm! I absolutely had to have it inside me. I removed the dildo, leaving my asshole gaped, and the monster cock slid right in, all the way to the hilt. He started pumping into me bare as I sucked the other cock. It felt so good, and I was close to cumming when the cock in my mouth shot several streams of hot yummy cum down my throat. I swallowed every last drop, and the guy left, obviously satisfied. Still, I continued to hold back my orgasm, knowing that it would be worth it later. Barely a second passed when another big hard cock came through the hole, and I got back to work sucking while my ass was being pounded. The man behind me hammered my prostate, making me moan around the cock in my mouth. Not long after, the cock in my ass erupted. I could feel spurt after spurt of thick cum being shot up my ass. The door to my stall opened, and there stood four or five guys, all big and buff and stroking their huge cocks while watching me get fucked. As soon as the cock I was sucking filled my mouth with another delicious load, I was pulled into the hallway by this new group of well-endowed men. Each of them took turns using me. For the next hour, my ass was constantly stuffed with dick, and my stomach was full of jizz. When they were done, my entire body was sticky with sweat and cum. The men were fully sated, and none wanted a second round. I hadn’t expected my night to end so quickly and was very disappointed. Just then, two massive black guys walked in, and I knew that my night wasn’t over by a long shot. They surveyed the scene and saw me in my ruined lingerie and makeup. I gave them a flirty, gooey smile and beckoned them over with a finger. They must have liked what they saw because they started to strip while everybody watched. When they were completely naked, my jaw practically hit the floor. They had two of the biggest cocks I have ever seen! Both must have been 11 inches or more and thick as a baseball bat. One even had a nice upward curve that I knew would feel amazing on my prostate. The one with the curve got behind me; I felt him lineup his huge cock with my cum-lubed ass and slowly pushed in. It was bigger than anything I had taken so far and hurt going in. When he was about halfway in, he began slowly pumping in and out. Allowing me to get accustomed to his impressive size. The other guy grabbed my head and tried to shove his huge cock down my throat. I could only manage to get the head in. The others stood around and watched. Some were even taking pictures and filming me from every angle. After about 10 minutes, the man in my ass shoved his huge cock all the way in. I could feel his balls pressing against mine. It was so long, I thought I could feel it in my stomach. Then he really started to fuck me hard, and all I could do was moan with pleasure. I was so turned on, and it felt so good that I shot my load from just being fucked, splattering the floor with my cum. I finally managed to swallow a few more inches of the cock in front of me. I could feel it reaching down past my tonsils. I knew that I would have a sore throat in the morning. After a while of fucking me like this, they decided to switch it up and trade places. I could taste my ass and the other men’s cum on his dick and eagerly slurped it all up. I had lost track of time. The one now in front pulled out of my mouth and went around back. At the same time, the other one slipped under me. I sat down on the cock below while the other man began pushing his way into my already occupied asshole. I started to protest, thinking these two must be crazy. One massive cock barely fit on its own; two would surely split me apart! Before I could fully voice my concern, the head of the one behind me popped in, and I almost screamed. It hurt for only a minute or so. Before I knew it, I was being double fucked by these huge black cocks. The other guys must have decided that they were ready for round two. They came back into it, fighting to shove their cocks down my throat and dumping what seemed to be gallons of cum into my stomach. At this rate, I wouldn’t need to eat for days. The two guys fucked my ass like that for another half hour, alternating thrusts, so I was always full before adding to the collection of cum in my ass. I could feel their cocks in my stomach as shot after shot of hot cum was unloaded deep in my ass. They must have dumped at least a quart of cum in me. I was so full of cum that it squirted out of my ass and all over the guy behind me when they pulled out. Once they were done, the other men all had another go at me. After watching the other men run a train on me for a little while, one of the black guys came over and started talking to me. He told me I was incredibly sexy and introduced himself and his friend as Rick and Marcus. He said he had a business proposition for me. "We own this joint, how would you like to do this every Friday and Saturday night? We’ll pay you 200 dollars per show. We charge spectators a fee and we will find you the biggest, hottest dicks around with a minimum of six to ten guys". They told me to think about it since I could not answer right away as my mouth was filled with cock. It went on like that for another hour before the last guy finally came. I was absolutely filthy from head to toe. I was covered in a mixture of jizz, spit, and sweat; I must have stunk something awful. I got up and walked to their office. I was horribly sore and exhausted but couldn’t keep the smile from my face. I opened the door and said that I would be happy to work for them. They were excited to hear it. "Since you’re gonna be our new slut, how about you come over here and give us some head. Think you can handle a couple more loads?" Marcus said, already unbuttoning his pants. "Hell yeah!" I sank to my knees in front of them and happily sucked them off one at a time until they came. Marcus finished in my throat. He held my head all the way down as he unloaded his hot, sweet cum in my stomach. Rick came shortly after but instead of cumming in my mouth, he sprayed it all over my face. "I’ll see you guys tomorrow!" I said as I stood up, still covered in cum and looking like a beat-up whore who had a rough night. I knew my clothes were ruined, and my makeup must have been running down my face. On my way out, I stopped by the bathroom to clean up the worst of the cum dripping down my body. I was still so horny that I didn’t bother changing my outfit. I just grabbed my backpack and walked back to the hotel dressed as I was, heels and all. I was hoping that I might get propositioned by someone looking for an easy, late-night fuck. It was around three o’clock in the morning when I left the video store. I was coming out of an alley when a police car pulled up beside me with the lights flashing. They probably thought I was a prostitute, and I was scared they were going to arrest me. I was trying to find a believable excuse for why I looked like a hooker when two big muscular cops got out of the cruiser. They surrounded me, pinning my back against the alley wall. "Well, what do we have here? A sissy crossdresser faggot?" The one in front smirked at me while his partner laughed. "What happened to you?" The second cop looked me up and down, taking in my disheveled appearance. The first cop whispered something into his radio, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I was hoping he wasn’t calling for backup. I proceeded to tell them all about my night at the adult video store. Still, carefully leaving out the part about me working there, just in case they really did intend on arresting me for prostitution. Another cop car pulled up to check me out, and I regaled him with my escapades as well. I noticed all three cops had bulges in their pants and grins on their faces. After I finished my story, I could tell they were all pretty aroused. The second cop stepped closer to me with a sly smile on his face. "Listen slut, we have a little deal for you. You blow all three of us right now and you won’t spend the night in holding for whoring." And that was how I found myself on my knees, surrounded by three cops with their big hard cocks out. I sucked all of them off until they came in my mouth. I swallowed all their cum with a big smile. True to their word, they didn’t arrest me and let me continue my slut walk of shame back to the hotel. Once I got back to the hotel, I was able to sneak in one of the side exits using my key card. I knew if I tried to go in through the front lobby looking the way I do, they’d probably kick me out. I was tired and sore when I got up to my room but still very excited for the day ahead. I kicked off my heels and peeled the cum soaked lingerie off my body. I took a nice hot shower and douched the last of the cum out of my gaping asshole. Once I was all clean, I got in the bed naked and was out like a light. he following night around 12:30am I walked back to the bookstore dressed the same way, but I was wearing a red outfit with a tight black mini skirt, I took the back way this time to avoid traffic, but I had to walk through a big truck stop to get there I looked around the truck stop before continuing and only saw 3 trucks all dark so I continued on and I stopped to check myself in the bathroom mirror but just then 2 truckers walked in as I was about to leave they took me into the bathroom and fucked me as I sucked them off. One came in my ass and one in my mouth and I was on my way. When I arrived at the bookstore I walked in and was greeted by the two large black men from the prior night (the owners) I was quite horny and looking forward to what the night had in-store. I was wearing my clity Cage, my strap-on tits with a hot red and black latex boos-tier, lacy red G-string panties, with matching garter belt, black thigh high stockings, and my 8-inch red stripper heels and a huge Butt plug with a long black fuzzy tail. The 2 black men escorted me through the bookstore where it was quite crowded with lots of horny men. We went back to their office where I sucked both their cocks as they gave me the rundown of the night. The one with the husky deep voice explained that they had 10 well hung guys that were just dying to get at me. Then the other guy spoke with a much higher fem voice with a slight lisp. He said that they had a private room in the rear all set up and there were going to be about 20 people that were just going to watch and enjoy the show, they also said that pix and video were going to be shot. About that time one of them shot a huge load of cum in my mouth it was so big I thought I was going to drowned, but I managed to swallow it all. The other guy came around back of me and removed the huge butt plug I had in and shoved his huge black cock in my ass and started to fuck me hard after a few minutes of this he shot a huge load of cum deep in my ass. It felt like he was filling my stomach. I loved it, it felt so good that it made me cum, and no one had even touched my cock yet. They then shoved my plug back in my ass and said don’t want all that good lube to drip out, then pulled me to my feet and escorted me through the bookstore where everybody started clapping and whistling. I then noticed that on one wall there was a large flat screen monitor that showed their office where I just got the 2 men off and realized that everybody in the bookstore just watched me get them off and that turned me on even more. We walked through this door in the rear and inside was a sex swing, bed and 2 couches, in the middle of the room were 9 of the biggest cocks. All around were men and some women seated all naked and waiting for the show to start. I strutted into the room and went right to work. I started sucking the first cock I came to. I am telling you there was not a cock under 8 inches. Almost immediately my panties were taken off of me and my ass hole eaten, lubed then filled with cock as I sucked cock after cock as cock was being shoved in my ass after a little while the first load was shot right in my mouth I swallowed every last drop of it, then I felt the huge cock in my ass erupt with a huge load deep inside me it felt so good. Then another cock was shoved in my mouth and then before the other pulled out of my ass another cock invaded me and I was being fucked in my ass by 2 huge cocks at the same time. After a little while it got quiet and in walked this Arab guy, he had the biggest cock of them all, I swear it was at least 12 to 13 inches long and so fat it looked like a little baseball bat, I thought it would rip me in half. I tried to get it in my mouth, but I could only get the head of it in, he went around back of me and started to push his huge cock into my ass which was dripping with cum and very well lubricated, it felt like he was ripping me. He was gentle and took his time though. finally, the head of his enormous cock popped into my ass I tried to scream but my mouth was full of cock. he slowly entered me until he was almost all the way in and then slowly pulled out all the way leaving my ass gaped, then he shoved it back in. He did this several times until I was used to it and it started to feel real good then he slammed it in as far as it would go and started to pound me hard, all I could do is moan as the cock in my throat erupted at the same time and was pulled out and replaced by another. he fucked me hard for what seemed like an hour before he shot this enormous load into my ass, it felt like a fire hose inside me it was by far the biggest load I had ever had. It was so much that it was seeping out as he continued to pump my ass. it turned me on so much that I shot my own load I could feel my ass hole clamping down on his enormous cock as he moaned as I used my asshole to suck every drop of cum out of that wonderful cock. He finally gave me all he had to give I could feel his cock going limp and he pulled out. 2 other cocks took his place quickly. this guy would fuck my ass 2 other times throughout the night, this went on for hours until I had every cock cum in my ass and in my mouth I was covered with cum and loving it. When they were all done I went out to the audience and started to do some of them, I was so turned on I could do this all night then the 2 Owners came in and had 2 tall shot glass's filled with cum from the audience and wanted me to drink them. I did, it was so good I licked the glass's clean then they both fucked me in the ass, it was so good to have these 2 huge black cocks deep in my ass as I felt them both cum in my ass, it was dripping cum as I stood up and they handed me 200 hundred dollars and a video tape of the whole thing and said will we see you next week?, I said hell yeah they said that they had already had about 15 guys for me next week and I said can’t wait. I left shortly afterwards dressed like a slut. I was still covered in cum and had the huge butt plug in my ass to keep in all the cum as I walked towards the truck stop where it was full of horny truckers. again, I was taken to the bathroom where about 4 truckers waited for me, I sucked off all of them before I started my walk back to the hotel room. But, before I got there, I decided I wanted to stand out on the corner across from the truck stop hooking myself out for the rest of the night. I got 3 guys and sucked and swallowed each of them for 20 bucks each. the sun was Cumming up, so I stood on the corner and jacked off for all to see until I shot my own huge load all over my self. I was soaked in cum from all the cock I had throughout the night and my ass dripping cum I then walked my slutty ass back to my room and popped in the video they had given me and started to jack off to it when there was a knock at the door!
Looking For Some Real Fun/NSA Sexual Fun Other Areas, NY (USA) · Men Seeking Women · Hello I am looking for older women around the ages of their late 50's-80's, but also willing to meet younger women between their 20's-40's, for some real sexual fun and NSA sexual activities. I live in the Niagara Falls area and hoping to meet ladies in the area and also, in other areas of Western New York. I want to meet ladies of these ages above becuase I have always had this fantasy about making love to my own mother throughout my life. I would always masturbate whenever I would fantasize about this and it was always wonderful. I am also still a virgin who wants to learn how to make love and also, how to make a lady happy. I would love that any older lady I meet to pretend she's my mother so I can make love to her and learn new things along the way. I enjoy oral sex very much. I also love erotic fiction stories of sons fucking their own mothers, which enhances my fantasies of me doing the same to my own mother. Please respond soon. The sooner you write. The sooner we can meet and let the fun NSA times rool. I will send a picture upon request after I get your message.
Swinging or M F M threesome? General Discussions · Swinging or M F M threesome? · When we started swinging we were in a nudist club where their was a lot of swinging and swapping going on‚ when the wife went with another guy for the first time‚ even though I was not present her first time I had set her up with a friend that I knew she was keen on and had been flirting with for a while (he knew my feelings on it all) hoping it would happen‚ my wife knew she had my full permission to play if she so wanted to‚ “remember it was her first time ever with another guy” a very big step for a 35 year old Catholic woman to take. When it did finally happen we were welcomed into a well established swinging scene with open arms “and legs”‚ Search Light and Ribald which were our local sex contact sex papers were just about our bible at the time where we also met other swingers “and our swinging neighbors through” (another story). After about 5 years swinging with our swinging friends from the nudist club and others we met through the sex papers we had a major personal upset with family that caused us to leave the nudist club and the swinging scene all together‚ “it had nothing to do with sex or swinging at all”. Some 5 years further on things had settled down with our family life and we started dabbling with the thought of playing around again‚ we were older and things had changed from the old days‚ rejoining the nudist club was not an option at the time because of children’s ages and other personal reasons. We started looking at Search Light and Ribald again (things had also changed health wise as far as swinging and casual sex went) all our sex was and still is bare back sex so we were wary as to what sort of people we were meeting which also put a damper on it a lot for us. We had a few total wipe out’s meeting couples which was very frustrating for all concerned‚ and even when we did find a couple we got on OK with it never seemed to last after the initial lust had worn off where the four of us got along long term‚ it had us really thinking was it all worth it? Then we got talking about M F M threesomes‚ which we had a few of when we were swinging the first time around‚ I got off on seeing her going with other guys “and so did she” lol and I just love going silky seconds‚ we had some replies from single guys who had answered our ad’s for swingers trying their luck wanting to meet us so we went through them and picked out some guys that the wife thought she might find a turn on and we started meeting them‚ it was a lot easier meeting just guys I can tell you‚ the wife also surprised me by saying that we were just meeting for sex not a life time commitment (yes just sex not friendship) we decided that as long as she found the guy reasonably attractive and he could hold a conversation why not go ahead with it! We worked a formula out where we would arrange to meet at a local hotel‚ it has a nice quite area (at the time we were meeting guys) where we would meet the guy‚ after some small talk the wife would give me the signal if it was a go or no‚ “they were not many no’s I can tell you as we had vetted them out pretty well before arranging the meeting”‚ and if it was a “YES” then we would invite him back to our place to do the deed‚ if it was all OK then we would invite him back again‚ and if we really hit it off again‚ and again‚ one guy was a regular for over three years. One funny time that comes to mind‚ we had arranged to meet this guy at the usual place‚ he was travelling some distance to meet us‚ just as we were ready to walk out the door our daughter who still lived at home arrived home‚ she had a job where she slept over through the night and did not arrive home until late morning‚ this night she had taken sick and had been sent home. It was too late to contact the guy (this was before mobile phones) so after making sure the daughter was OK we decided to go and meet him‚ explain what had happened‚ and if he was OK to us (and us to him) the next meeting would be at our place. We met him and after the wife had given me the nod that he was OK we explained the situation to him‚ he was disappointed but it could not be helped‚ I went off for a round of drinks and when I returned he was sitting next to my wife very close and I could see his arm was around the wife and his hand was under her top (we were lucky we had the bar to ourselves) I wondered off on some pretext to leave them alone for a couple of minutes and when I returned he had made big steps forward and my wife had her hand under the table and on his lap‚ when it was time to go I left the wife to say good bye to him while I got our car‚ by the time I arrived with the car they were just about doing it in the car park and the wife said they wanted to go some place where the three of us could be alone‚ I knew of a parking place not too far away so we went to it‚ we had a station wagon at the time and they were already going for it by the time I got the seat down‚ the three of us had a good session in the back of the wagon before we were disturbed by another car arriving for the same reason we were there so it was time for us to go‚ he became a long time lover of the wife. I gather this is not your cup of tea kind of sex but it takes all kinds! I really get off on seeing the wife going with other guys (specially the first time) and joining in‚ I have done all the time ever since we first started playing‚ and would still do today if she was still into it‚ the best we do now is going into a chat room where she will come on cam now and then‚ but I guess I cannot complain after almost 50 years being married and playing on and off for 30 of them‚ I know there are a lot of guys out there that wish their wife would play.
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TGirlCougar Male · Boston and travel the USA, United States of America. Classy Cpl with a lust for man to man. She's an intelligent‚ educated professional by day and a lustful pleasure seeker by night. He's an educated‚ professional good looking classy yet trashy TGurl bottom that loves to give it up for lustful men- and she just loves her gurl taking it deep-- that's our pleasure‚ meeting fine men that enjoy using him dressed to the 9's‚ and he really knows how to dress the part: 6 inch ankle strap heels‚ seamed stockings‚ corset with garters‚ balls hanging low in a nice heavy weight collar‚ nipples clamped tight‚ leather collar‚ long wild hair and the slut red lips- and she gets so turned on seeing him being used by lustful men‚ one‚ two‚ three guys‚ even better groups just using her TGurl for all she is worth! We are looking for classy d/d free guys‚ balls full who love using a fine ass‚ long stroking that fine ass balls deep‚ guys who don't let up until their balls pump dry! We love men in groups‚ men with their balls full looking to drop a few loads with a hot cumslut- that's right guys‚ a classy cpl that knows how to get nasty with the guys. She loves her gurl giving it up right while she enjoys the show and directs the action. Classy‚ educated‚ d/d free professional guys only- guys looking for a party scene with a classy cpl that enjoys their men using "her" for all she is worth! We love classy black gentlemen on the DL looking for a fine white ass to breed! The ultimate- to be a queen of spades for groups of classy black gentlemen! The perfect scene‚ the dream fantasy ‚ the TGurl slut dressed to the nine's‚ a 5 star hotel suite‚ a nice group of classy black gentlemen‚ educated and professional‚ way too many men‚ 10‚ 15‚ 20 of them and they all want their pleasure‚ they all showed up with their balls full and they expect satisfaction‚ some bi guys‚ others classy straight guys that just enjoy a fine time with a hot gurl‚ the drinks are flowing and they will have their way‚ I invited them all and now it's time to deliver on my promise it's time‚ time to give it up‚ one‚ two‚ three guys at a time‚ I told them there were few rules‚ that rough was ok‚ ATM was ok‚ DP and 3P were ok‚ my nipples clamped hard were in-play‚ my balls in a heavy weight collar were in-play‚ I would be the perfect party gurl‚ the perfect slut‚ I would give it up they way they dreamed‚ the way they lusted for and they took me up on my offer - balls deep‚ relentlessly long stroking my fine ass and mouth‚ working my balls and my nipples to the limit‚ cock after cock taking it to me‚ pumping their balls dry and over and over‚‚‚ every stud drives in for his game‚ all of them breeding me‚ time stops‚ they are on the phone to more guys talking about their breeding bitch‚ more and more arrive‚‚ I lose count‚‚ totally lose count‚‚ I am being used beyond all my dreams‚ photos‚ videos‚ I am in it for the game‚ totally in it for all‚ for every man‚ to be the perfect slut for each and every one of them‚ I am theirs‚ all of them‚ theirs‚‚every cock bareback‚ I am dripping‚ totally dripping mancum‚‚ total lust prevails and I am in heaven‚ they are in heaven‚ over and over‚ load after load‚‚‚‚ bring it on baby‚ bring it on!!! The bitch needs a good breeding!! Yes please!
Milf big dick gangbang Hello, my name is April, I’m 43 natural long Blonde full bodied Woman. I will be in the Muskegon, Michigan area from July 16th till July 18th I will be with my Husband and we are looking for a full on bull gangbang. My Husband and I only do this together, meaning he joins in but let’s me have, get, and do as many Big Long Hung, preferably Black Men as I want. We have only a few rules, my Husband is in on my Gangbang, no hitting or restraining or any whore type talking. I want respect, in return I let at least 3 bigger the better hung Men do whatever they want to me. I am 5’10”, 150lbs, natural Blonde hair to the top of my ass. I have new 34DD, that I need to get used, I want, actually I insist that I swallow every load, I have done up to 6 Men, young Men really at a time for 12 hours straight. I want skinny Men, I apologize but if you’re stomach is in the way when I look up to Suck you dry it turns me off and ruins the experience for me. I like to drink a bottle of Korr, that I will supply and I become insatiable and I have never tapped out, I insist that I have at least one big dick on each end of me at all times. My Husband must be there for my piece of mind, however he insist that I am constantly fucked in all holes as hard as possible, he likes to watch my eyes roll back and challenge the Crew to Fuck me till I pass out then stick my ass in the air and tear me a new one till I sober up and start all over. I am insatiable and he loves to hear me scream with a 10 inch plus Cock down my throat swallowing a huge load as I’m getting pounds in both my Pussy and Ass at the same time. All of this being said, I am real, I can send pics and videos of a Big Black Man pounding me in our Bedroom with him filming it. He is not jealous, he bought my big firm new tits just to do exactly as I have described, so he always tells the Man, or Men to Fuck me harder, he enjoys seeing me get my, as he calls it, get my Brains Fucked out. We will have a Vehicle, as well as, a Motorcycle so we can travel a reasonable distance for one day, night, and morning during our time in the Michigan area or within about a 3-4 hour drive to meet at a good safe location so I can have what I want. Thank you for reading and please contact me for help in satisfying my insatiable cravings. April. rfasjamea1996@yahoo.com - Milf big dick gangbang
A fetish of mine A fetish of mine · Group Sex · Has anyone else noticed this, where most couples advertise bi females and straight males but once you dig a little deeper or explore a little more what I have discovered is it is often a cover to attract both genders while not scaring off the men. Most men I know jump at the chance to be with multiple bi women but are scared to death to admit, "I would be okay if the women pulled me down to suck a cock along with them." Hesitant men I meet will do most of whatever a group of women guide them to do. So far every man has at least sucked a cock with us, most will take cum with us, many will F a man, and surprisingly more take it up the backside if it is set up just right. The set-up has to be where the male can say, "Hey I didn't do it, they coerced me, forced me, tricked me, (or my fav) I had no idea that was what was happening to me (lol)." A fetish of mine is to find continue finding couples like the aforementioned. All we ladies perform for the guys to get them so worked up they’d do almost anything. Then F all the men until a few of us ladies are filled with cum load after cum load from as many of them as possible. We face sit on a few men we picked earlier to eat the massive loads of cum out of us as we and the ladies assisting pull their legs up high and wide spread open and one after another of the men left, take turns F ing their anal holes bareback back to back one cream filled cock and then the next emptying loads and loads of cum in their asses. So many pictures, videos, from all angles, recordings for everyone to look at, watch, and listen to together.
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