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Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really??
by: U_Cumming_My_Fantasy
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Pattyperu: I've just come back from the USA the women are so dirty I want some welsh sla
13 Years Ago
peterboy: hey I'm in Nixa MO‚ USA‚ and am a virgin :) Hit me up for an energetic young guy! I'm athletic‚ so I can most likely keep up with you girls ;) I'm straight. And I'm 5'6" and I'm a gentleman
12 Years Ago
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12 Years Ago
maher50: im an egyptian live in ill usa
12 Years Ago
Fun_Funner: Looking for you in Silom Springs‚ Ark‚ USA
12 Years Ago
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12 Years Ago
Delsex4u: Im from USA Looking for hot sex overseas
56 Years Ago
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10 Years Ago
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10 Years Ago
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10 Years Ago
ghalowell: Looking for some fun 24/m/usa kik or Snapchat me @ GHalowell
10 Years Ago
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7 Years Ago
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7 Years Ago
truckingmf: Seeking young hot women all across USA. I travel all over constantly and I want to meet up w girls from all over that either just love sex needing to make money wanna fulfill a fantasy or whatever the case is message me and let’s set up something. Maybe u always wanted to have sex in big rig well u can w me. Maybe u like to role play and wanna pretend to be the hooker at truckstop and have me buy you. Maybe you college girl just needs make extra to get by. Also I have a couple vids I’d like made and if you bored and wanna do what I’m looking for I’d pay ya for em. I looking to fulfill every single fantasy I can imagine and also help do yours too. Maybe your guy that likes to watch his woman fucked by another man ok I do that to. Maybe u always wanted to squirt well I’ve not met girl yet I couldn’t make her squirt.
6 Years Ago
truckingmf: Seeking young hot women all across USA. I travel all over constantly and I want to meet up w girls from all over that either just love sex needing to make money wanna fulfill a fantasy or whatever the case is message me and let’s set up something. Maybe u always wanted to have sex in big rig well u can w me. Maybe u like to role play and wanna pretend to be the hooker at truckstop and have me buy you. Maybe you college girl just needs make extra to get by. Also I have a couple vids I’d like made and if you bored and wanna do what I’m looking for I’d pay ya for em. I looking to fulfill every single fantasy I can imagine and also help do yours too. Maybe your guy that likes to watch his woman fucked by another man ok I do that to. Maybe u always wanted to squirt well I’ve not met girl yet I couldn’t make her squirt. Best way reach me is 2544583911 or truckingmf@gmail.com
6 Years Ago
jimmdoy: USA
2 Years Ago
Romeo85: Need a girl for sex around Maryland USA
2 Years Ago
sakdos: Dam who wants to get high and fuck or suck some cock USA tn Manchester
2 Years Ago
Anulak123: Looking for Naughty Pussy in Tampa, USA
2 Years Ago
jeleecum: Hello, to any one interested in sucking my cock,.. I am horny all of the time,..I have a nice big cock that is in need of some attention,..anyone interested in servicing my cock...email me a jelee@usa.com....put sucking in the subject
Thanks
Lee
1 Year Ago
Pitcher Swingers NY USA
pitcher
Male · Brisbane, Australia. This is the member profile for pitcher
Port Saint Lucie Swingers
Swingers playing on the Treasure Coast Fl
Couples, singles and bi play
Nudist friends to hang at beach with?
Mutual pussy or cock play
Join: Swingers of Port Saint Lucie Fl
Text: swing to 7728019920 - Port Saint Lucie Swingers
sex or swingers clubs in the Columbia River Gorge area?
USA Only · sex or swingers clubs in the Columbia River Gorge area? · does anyone know of any sex or swingers clubs in the columbia river gorge area?
South Australia North of Adelaide - NSA/Dogging/Gloryholes/Swingers
Australia Only · South Australia North of Adelaide - NSA/Dogging/Gloryholes/Swingers · There is little to nothing for everyone north of Adelaide either information wise or contacts. Setting this up so if you have any info on any dogging spots and/or gloryholes‚ or if you want some nsa fun or meet up with swingers and arrange something put it up. Share the info people.I'll start this off. I'm a 26 year man in Port Augusta who is looking for some NSA fun and any dogging or gloryhole spots. I can't travel but I can host. Love eating pussy and will do my hardest to make you come all over my face ;).ALSO‚ there is a dogging spot in Port Augusta at Bird lake after dark only‚ weekends only. not used much. Any new info would be very useful
Akron & Cleveland and Youngstown Swingers Parties
This is a group from Akron‚ Cleveland and Youngstown that put on parties for swingers and couples/females who are looking for real meets for gangbangs and hotel parties (group sex). We have a kik room to meet other members and see what we are about. To join the group you will need to follow the rules in the profile picture.
1. We will need a live face pic upon entering the room (if you can't submit a live pic then don't enter)
2. Introduce yourself upon entering the room
3. Be respectful
4. NO DICK pics
5. Chat in the room‚ NO PM's without permission or you will be removed from the group.
We have regular parties and always looking for new people to join. If you have parties as well we are always looking to collaborate - Akron & Cleveland and Youngstown Swingers Parties
NV Swingers
Swingers in NV - NV Swingers
Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really??
Other Locations · Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really?? · I must admit, I'm extremely new to this whole scene but I've paid some kinda attention to it for quite some time, albeit from a distance, and have never learned of actual swingers clubs or fuck parties around here - I just feel like surely I would have. But, that said, I'm oh so happy to be wrong, I'm just asking this to make sure this is real and the people here are truly down to, well, get down. Our is this a waste of time? I hope not, cus ladies I promise I won't waste your's, my wife would never let me and she super excited to get involved too.. I hope to hear something back soon! Thanks!
Midlands UK swingers Orgy
Looking for like minded folk.
Anything goes, mix & match gender. This will be a one off event initially, limited numbers.
Seeking swingers.whonare tested and can confirm recent results at venue.
I will be aiming to take a dozen cocks in a single session, and will be made up, dressed as a slut.
I will also be looking for pussy after.
If anyone knows of a suitably private and secure venue please let me know. - Midlands UK swingers Orgy
sexy commuter
Male · sonora, United States of America. I am a gwm looking for other gwm in Sonora and surrounding areas . orally aggressive like to rim and suck also like to receive but whe it comes to sex anything goes but I like to be the pitcher.
Miriam
Miriam · Fetish · MIRIAM
It was the curve of her high-arched foot that first caught my attention. I was sitting in the graduate library trying to digest the impenetrable opacity of Kant's A Critique of Pure Reason for my upcoming Philosophy final exam, when I noticed her foot and quickly lost interest in Kant. I must have been staring at her feet, because she asked, "See anything you like?" I blushed vermillion and looked away, back to Kant, but the words merely danced before my eyes. I gazed back at her and saw her smile at me. I was a twenty-three year old virgin. I'd only gone out on a few dates and had never even kissed a woman. It wasn't that I hadn't any sexual desires. I had an overload of sexual urgings and desires, wants and needs, and was a chronic masturbator, typically masturbating 2-3 times a day. But when it came to asking women out, I was an absolute loser. The dates I had had been on had been set up with by friends or family. None of them lasted more than 2-3 dates before the women would quickly lost interest.
When I gazed back at her, she suddenly arose, slipped her bare feet back into her flip-flops, and walked over to me sticking her hand out for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Natalie Goldman. And you are?" I mumbled my name to her and had to repeat it. "Well Jack Simms, nice to meet you." I told her it was very nice to meet her, too. "I'm sick of studying, want to go get something to eat?" She had such a pretty smile. Her black hair set off her olive-skinned face and dark brown eyes in the most captivating way. I realized that I was staring once again. "Sure. Where would you like to go?" She named a local pizza joint and we walked the three blocks there. We ordered a pizza and shared a pitcher of ice cold beer while waiting for our pizza. The place was half-filled with raucous rock and roll and undergrads on the make.
Notwithstanding the myriad of conversations sprouting around us, we managed to have a conversation above the din. You know the type of conversation: What's your major? What year are you in? What's your favorite movie? Do you like reading Faulkner? We just clicked. I had never felt so comfortable with a woman. When there was a lull in the conversation, she looked intently at me and asked, "Back in the library, you were staring at my feet, weren't you?" I felt trapped, like beetle that's landed on its back and can't right itself. I blushed, I stammered, I looked away from her. "It's okay, you know. Nothing to be ashamed about." I attempted to respond to her question, but was torn by my humiliation.
We continued eating and drinking in silence.
After finishing the pizza, she invited me to the apartment that she shared with a roomie, and we had another couple of beers there, continuing our getting to know each other conversation. I realized that I was crazy in love with her as we shared our likes and loves and lives over the next couple of hours. She played a few LP's on her turntable as we sat on large pillows on her hardwood floor. We listened to Stevie Wonder and Al Green, Bill Withers and The Four Tops. I found myself staring at her feet as she sat cross-legged. I would turn away, my face flushed scarlet, only to slowly gaze back at her lovely feet, and see her smiling.
This was my secret shame. I had become attracted to women's feet as a little boy, crawling around on the floor of our home, staring at my mother's feet and those of her friends that visited, fascinated by how pretty their feet looked. I had slowly graduated from the attraction stage to sneaking into my mother's closet and sniffing and licking the insoles of her sandals and open-toed mules, and later pulling her stockings out of her clothes hamper and inhaling that vinegary-cheddary scent from her feet that would cause my little penis to stiffen. Later yet, I would sit on her closet floor licking her shoes, sniffing and licking her stockings and panties, and masturbating by shoving my ever stiff cock through the toe hole of her well-worn mules or through the opening of her sandals. Somehow my mind had become cross-wired in such a way that women's feet were an instant sexual turn-on, and seeing women's bare or nylon clad feet was akin to seeing them naked. Every time I indulged in my mother's closet; I would walk away from there swearing that I would never do it again. But my oaths were empty and useless, and I would always return to worship there at her secret altar.
Years had passed and my secret had remained hidden, concealed from the world. My own secret shame. But now, here was this very attractive young woman who had realized my secret. Upon her relentless questioning, I admitted that I had been staring at her feet and that I had a thing for women's feet and had since i was a kid. I apologized and moved to get up, thinking that I'd ruined any chance at having a relationship with this beautiful young woman. As I stirred, she reached over with her leg and pushed her left foot against my groin. "Don't go." I felt her grind her foot against my stiffening penis. I sat still feeling the pressure and movement of her foot against my now throbbing erection. Natalie smiled, "What have we here?" She grasped at the bulge with her toes as I shuddered. "Don't tell me that my feet have caused this?" I looked at her and nodded, blushing. "So my feet have that kind of power over you?" Again, I nodded, humiliated, wanting to leave, but unable to move out from under her foot.
Natalie led me to her bedroom and after kissing and sniffing and licking her pretty feet, we made love again and again and I was a virgin no more.
After that, we became inseparable. I soon proposed to her and she accepted. All of my life’s dreams were coming true. I was head over heels in love and happier than I’d ever dreamed of becoming.
I met Natalie’s parents at a dinner celebrating our engagement. Her father was a large quiet man, who barely ever got a word in edge-wise as her mother was very opinionated and domineering. There was no question as to who ran that household. Her mother was brassy and loud and often obnoxious. She was a dead ringer for the late actress Colleen Dewhurst, not beautiful or even pretty, but handsome. Her voice was a bourbon and cigarette smoked croak. Her hair was a reddish-brownish dye job, and her eyes were her daughter's eyes, dark and mysterious. The dinner was held at their cottage and dress was casual. Miriam, my soon to be mother-in-law wore a cotton blouse, shorts and sandals. Her skin was bronzed from having spent so much time in the sun. She had large pendulous breasts and appeared to have put on quite a few pounds over the years. She had a beautiful butt, and thick meaty thighs. Her calves were muscled and her feet were every bit as sexy and shapely as her beautiful daughter's, but in a different way. I found myself mesmerized by them. In a moment alone, Natalie upbraided me for staring at her mother's feet. I apologized, but found myself staring at them again as we sat out on wooden lawn chairs on their deck overlooking the lake, having after-dinner drinks.
Miriam wanted to know everything about me and I was inundated with a barage of questions from her. All the while her husband, Dave, stood by like a wooden Indian saying nothing. I noticed that he would refill her drink and asked her if she wanted anything. He doted on her and was quite attentive to her every need, yet she was dismissive of him, and occasionally openly hostile towards him.
As we were talking, Miriam told Dave to massage her feet, and Dave dutifully knelt on the patio floor beside her lawn chair and began to knead her feet. Miriam croacked, "And after twenty-five years of marriage, Dave has gotten very good at massaging and pampering my feet. Haven't you, Dave?" Dave nodded in agreement as he continued to massage her sexy feet. "Natalie, does Jake massage your feet for you?" Natalie smiled and said, "Every chance he gets." It was strange hearing her tell her mother that I loved massaging her feet; it felt like a betrayal of sorts. Miriam moaned, "Nothing like a man who knows his place in life." There was a long pause and then Miriam said, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Jake. Natalie tells me that you love to lick her feet and suck her toes." I was stunned, Natalie knew that no one else in the world other than she knew my secret. What could have prompted her to share this secret shame of mine with my mother-in-law?
I stared at her not knowing what to say. "Cat got your tongue?" Miriam asked. I watched as Natalie kicked off her flip-flops and stretched her legs until her feet were resting inches from my lips. "Go ahead, baby, show my mother how much you love licking my feet." Miriam was staring relentlessly at us in anticipation. Even Dave had turned his visage away from his wife's feet to see if I would lick his daughter's feet in their presence. When I didn't act, Natalie raised her right foot to my lips and dutifully, I began kissing and licking her right foot, as her left foot rubbed against my crotch.
Dave managed a smile. "Looks like Natalie has found herself a foot man like her dad." Miriam slapped him across the face with her foot. "Who asked for your opinion, you moron? Get to it. Lick my feet!" And with that the twilight air was filled by the lapping of the waves of the lake against their seawall, the intermittent cries of seagulls, and the squishy sounds of our tongues licking our women's feet. Miriam smiled. "This is the life, Natalie. Looks to me if Jake is a keeper," before adding, "How well have you trained him?" Natalie responded, "Oh, I think you will find that i have him at my beck and call." Miriam peered at her, "Does he satisfy you sexually?" Natalie laughed, "He has a magical tongue, mom. He can make me cum again and again." I couldn't believe the direction this conversation was taking. But I continued licking Natalie's feet for her, or perhaps I should say, for me. "What about dick-wise?" "Oh, well, you can't have everything," Natalie answered.
I was stunned. She'd never complained to me about the size of my penis or my ability to fuck her. Natalie turned to me, "Show mom your dick, baby." My mind was whirling. it was as if I had dropped out of everyday existence and found myself trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. "Go on, show her." I looked up at Natalie, my eyes begging her to save me from this further humiliation. But she was having none of it. "Now!" I stopped licking her feet, stood up and dropped my khakis to the patio floor. "You're not done yet, mister, drop your Jockeys, too." Sheepishly, I stepped out of my briefs, my cock semi-hard from having licked her feet and from the embarrassment of this humiliation. "Nothing to brag about, that's for sure," Miriam said. "Dave show him yours." Without missing a beat, Dave stood up and dropped his shorts. He was obviously going commando, and his cock slapped up against his gut. His cock was much bigger than mine, thicker, longer, and his balls were huge, like a pair of jumbo sized eggs. "You see, Jake, now that's a cock," Miriam seemed proud of the prodigious size of her husband's penis. "Poor Dave. He doesn't get any attention to his dick. We haven't had sex in years and I only allow him to masturbate once a month or so." I stared at the man's veiny throbbing erection, never having actually seen one that big, at least not in real life.
"Perhaps you should get a better look at it, Jake." This was from Natalie. I stared back at her perplexed. "You heard my mom, dad only gets relief once a month, why don't you go over to him and give him some relief." She lifted her foot in the air towards me, and I felt powerless. I reached back over to her and licked and kissed her foot. Natalie said, "Enough of that. Now show dad what a magical tongue you have." I stared at her in disbelief. "You mean you want me to suck his cock?" Before Natalie could answer, Miriam piped in, "That's exactly what she wants, you twit. How can she make it any plainer for you?"
Perhaps if I threw on my clothes and bolted for the car, I could escape this madness, get back to the lonely virginal existence that I had before I ever met Natalie. But Natalie became irate at my dawdling; she shot up in a sudden fury, pulled me by my hair and dragged me to her father's feet. "Suck his cock!" she yelled loud enough for the neighbors on both sides of them to hear. I tried to protest but she was pulling my face forward to his bobbing cock and balls. "I want you to lick and suck every inch of his cock, and do it now!" I'd never seen her like this. Sure she was dominant, but rarely in public. In the bedroom it was quite a different story, but I preferred it that way. Dave waited patiently as my lips brushed against the slippery head of his enormous erect cock. He was already dripping pre-cum in anticipation of having his cock sucked for the first time in years. For me this was new. Although sexually submissive and although I had masturbated looking at pictures of guys' cocks, I had never actually sucked one before. I opened my mouth and took his cock in, slipping my tongue and lips around his massive cock head. Miriam bellowed, "Natalie, you have trained him well. Look at him suck your father's cock!" It took only a few minutes of sucking him before he groaned and shot his thick, musky seed into my mouth, coating my tongue and tonsils with his gooey white semen, forcing me to swallow load after load of the stuff. It took a few moments but at last I’d sucked every last drop from his cock and Dave wiped his cock against my mouth before thanking Miriam and returning to his place at her feet.
The night ended up with all of us naked in their king-sized bed. I ate Miriam's hairy pussy and lapped at her malodorous hairy asshole, working my tongue deep into her rectal recesses while she clenched and unclenched her anal spincter, squeezing and unsqueezing my tongue. I performed another round of fellatio on Dave and he ended up fucking me as I ate his wife's ass and pussy. Natalie sat and fingered herself to multiple orgasms. By Monday morning, having spent three nights at her family's cottage, Natalie and I drove home to her apartment, she as my mistress and I as her slave. We were married three months later and the chains that bound me to her became ever tighter, ever closer, evermore inescapable.
As the years went by, Natalie took a series of lovers, all with larger penises than mine, all better suited at satisfying her sexually. I would lick and suck their cum out of her openings, bringing her to orgasm the only way i could, orally. I orally pleasured Miriam, licking her feet, eating her hairy pussy and licking and sucking her asshole, sometimes meticulously clean and other times quite ripe, my tongue coated with the remnants of her morning shit. I sucked Dave's thick cock and learned to love having him fuck me as Miriam and Natalie reveled in my utter submission. In my moments of solitude, I would think back with wonder that all of this was as a result of that fateful day in the library when the curve of Natalie's arch made me stare at her, winning my lust and my heart in the bargain.
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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