by Sean O'Kane
She stood with her legs braced apart and her hands clipped together behind her back, naked and unafraid as the men began to arrive. First of all there was a groom carrying a short flogger. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pushed her head down to deliver fifteen or twenty lashes to her back. It wasn’t a marking whip but a few good lashes heightened her appeal to the men.
“This one’s White Lightning, gentlemen,” the groom explained. “If you’ll form a queue, she might be able to take most of you. Now, Sir, how would you like her?”
Sophie stood up and shook her hair back looking at the queue and counting twenty men that she could see. The first of them was a tall, balding, bank manager type.
“I’ll take her pussy from behind,” he said.
“OK, that leaves her mouth free. Who wants it?”
In a few seconds her collar was dragged down, making her bend forwards and as she felt fingers dive into her vagina which had lubricated just nicely under the whip, in front of her she saw a man’s hands undo his flies and pull out a sizeable cock whose purple helm was pointing directly at her face. She steadied herself as she felt the man behind her begin to work his cock into her and then opened her mouth wide as she saw the man in front move in on her. The cock was thick and filled her mouth just the way she liked, it tasted nice and fresh too and she had to work at relaxing to give it the access it demanded, turning her head slightly to the side and bending her knees a little to give her throat a better angle. At the same time she clenched her pelvic floor muscles and was rewarded by two grunts of pleasure that delighted her. In her previous life she had had no idea that she would love giving pleasure to men who arrogantly demanded she provide it. The two men currently enjoying her began to move and soon hit on a rhythm that had them both thrusting forward at the same time, so that she was swallowing to the maximum at the same time as her cervix was being hit. She felt herself begin to spiral up towards a towering orgasm as the rhythm got faster and she felt herself compressed by the cocks from both ends, harder and faster. Eventually she came with a cock-muffled squeal as the man behind her dug his nails into her hips and rammed himself brutally to his climax while the man in front of her ravished her mouth and throat, finally splashing large gobbets of spunk deep into her throat as she was struggling to howl her own release. Somehow she managed to weather the assault but collapsed to her knees when they pulled clear. The groom grabbed her collar again though and threw her down on her back on her straw bed. She looked up at a man silhouetted against the stable door. He was astride her and undoing his trousers. Sophie opened her legs wide.
They turned her over after that and she took two in succession in her bottom then went two up again. After that the groom dragged her to the simple shower cubicle in the corner and doused her down then used the hose that administered enemas to cleanse both her passages so she could offer them afresh.
Her orgasms eventually over topped each other and she could no longer tell when she was about to come or when she had just finished coming. The cocks just kept coming and she loved them all. Vaguely she heard herself discussed but it was the groom’s voice she listened for.
“We knowed she was something special when she took every man in the place first day she arrived!” he said as she savoured another mouthful of sperm before the cock was withdrawn and the remainder was splashed over her face and hair. “Now you wanted her ass didn’t you, Sir? Well, just turn her over with your foot and she’ll be nice and open round about now.”
Eventually she could only crawl to the showers and crawl back, her bottom stung and her vagina burned but she wanted to take whatever they wanted her to and she managed to keep going until the bell rang that marked the end of open stalls and the guests repaired to the house. Those few men she hadn’t been able to take in her body had stood around her and wanked themselves over her as she desperately tried to lick each and every cock that was inundating her. The round of applause she got as they retreated and laughed at her spunk-soaked face and hair and her dripping crotch and bottom was music to her ears.
The shower was welcome though and she was very content as she snuggled down after the groom had thrown her sheet over her and she fell asleep instantly.
She was woken by the door of her stall creaking open. Moonlight shone in through the gap and men’s voices whispered, then one man carefully sidled in and shut the door. A torch was switched on but it was swathed in cloth and gave only a soft light. It was placed on the shelf where her harness was kept and the man crept over to where she was lying. Sophie guessed that a visitor had bribed a groom for a bit extra and certainly he was from the house, she could smell the whisky on his breath as he knelt beside her and put a hand over her mouth.
“Now don’t go makin’ a noise, girl. Ain’t nothin’ I want that you haven’t already given tonight.” He laughed softly. She could only see shadows above her and her hands were denied her as always. She felt his free hand grope down her chest until it was cupping her left breast, she shivered with the strange pleasure and couldn’t help a soft moan as he began to stroke it with unaccustomed gentleness.
“That’s the girl,” he whispered. He took his hand away from her mouth and she felt it fumble its way downwards to her groin. She was becoming used to the pounding her body took quite regularly and she realised that the burning of earlier had eased. She opened her legs for him and enjoyed the feel of this invisible man’s fingers finding their way into her. It was better than being blindfolded, she thought, here she could look wide-eyed at the ceiling and still the man using her was anonymous in the almost complete darkness. She heard and felt him settle between her spread legs. Then there was movement suggestive of clothes being removed which went on for a few minutes, then the hands were back. One went into her vagina, the other went into her rectum and he worked them both inside her, teasing and rubbing the septum that divided her passages. Sophie found herself climbing rapidly towards orgasm again as she was plundered and explored by the shadowy presence crouched over her. But her progress was halted as the hand in her backside withdrew and instead the fingers in her vagina were joined by more, she guessed he had four up her and the thumb too. He pressed in earnest and she realised he wanted to fist her. She had only had that done once or twice and had loved it. But to have it done now, by an almost disembodied hand in the dark was heaven. She moaned again and spread her legs wider. There was a soft chuckle and then an increase in the pressure on her tissues which gradually yielded to the insistent rubbing and thrusting and she felt herself suction him in. The feeling was incredibly intense, she was stretched and filled and fucked all at the same time and she came immediately.
When she regained her senses her invisible lover slid his hand out of her and instead lowered himself onto her, by the feel of his hairy stomach, bearing down and spreading over her own, she guessed he was pretty fat. The smell of whisky increased and then his hands were in her hair and he was kissing her passionately, the whisky filled her brain and his tongue was arrogantly playing with hers. Down below she felt his cock thrust into her where his fist had been. At first it was a weirdly anti-climactic feeling but as her tunnel constricted to its normal proportions once more the familiar and sweet stimulation was there to drive her to another shattering climax. This time her legs bent back under her of their own volition and she thrust her hips up to meet his thrusts into her so fiercely that she lifted her pelvis clear of the ground. Above her in the dark he roared his release as a third orgasm shook her and broke her. She was still gasping and almost sobbing as the door closed behind him.
Smiling a secretive smile, Sophie settled herself for sleep again. Her body shook occasionally as aftershocks ran through her, but her cunt didn’t burn, it sang and her whole body was at peace. She loved the way men used her, and she loved the pleasure she and her numerous, nameless users aroused in each other.
Chapter Four
Martha had been a little surprised by the look of almost naked hunger mixed strangely with regret that she had seen on the fac
e of the immigration officer at Houston when he had checked Raika’s passport and then realised she was with herself and Brian.
In the weeks that had passed since she had told Brian what she knew of Sophie’s whereabouts; weeks that had been spent, on his part, in ensuring that the stable ran smoothly in his absence and on hers in discovering the endless fun to be had with slaves, Martha had grown very fond of Raika. Brian had suggested they take her with them as she needed a holiday and they would be bound to need a submissive and Martha couldn’t have agreed more. Brian had introduced Raika to their bed several weeks before and Martha had fallen deeply in lust with the slightly built but well proportioned woman with her coffee coloured skin, sweeping silken, black hair that hung almost to her slender waist, when it wasn’t elegantly gathered into a chignon to bare her back for the whip. She adored the scent of her body when she woke up next to it, the skin soft beneath her lips as she kissed her back. She loved how eagerly she served both of them, opening her mouth and her legs with nothing but puppy-like enthusiasm. Even the harshest whipping didn’t dim the sparkle in her lustrous eyes and Martha didn’t think she would ever forget the helpful way in which Raika had cupped her own, neat and smooth breasts and held them steady so that she could administer her first needles through pinches of breast flesh. And when the time had come to pierce the nipples themselves, Martha had loved the breathless cries that had marked the entries and exits of the shiny steel through the engorged flesh and she had seen quite plainly the look of joy in Raika’s eyes when she saw how much pleasure she had given Martha.
It had taken some hard work on Brian’s part to convince Raika that the stables wouldn’t collapse without her for a few days and then Martha had taken her shopping for rather more demure clothing than she normally wore. But now, as they relaxed in the back of the cab taking them to their hotel, she thought Raika looked deliciously respectable in a black skirt that swirled elegantly around her legs just above the knee and a black, grey and white printed tailored shirt that fitted her precisely and accentuated the jut of her breasts, the eye was also drawn to the seductive shadow of the cleavage between them by the plunging line of the unbuttoned neck of the shirt. Her face was alight as she looked out at the city, her lips glossed and shining darkly, her eyes wide and her ear rings flashing gold against the pitch black of her hair. Martha knew quite well that knickers had played no part in the wardrobe acquisition process and she fully intended to get her hand under that skirt the moment their hotel room door closed.
At the thought she squirmed in her seat and pressed her thighs together. Brian looked across and grinned, well aware of where her thoughts had been. They had booked into a suite of rooms at a hotel where the guests were sufficiently rich that a threesome caused no raised eyebrows. Raika, whose quarters at the CSL stable were functional and comfortable but not luxurious was in a trance when she saw the ornate luxury of the suite. To Martha’s eye it was a little overdone, but certainly comfortable. Raika was so happy as she flitted about unpacking her own things and then Brian’s and hers that Martha waited until she had finished before ordering her to stand beside her and lift her skirt. As she swirled the ice in her drink, she was also able to swirl her fingers in the warm depths of Raika’s ever-obliging cunt.
“Next move is to meet this P.I., right?” she asked Brian.
An internet search had revealed no company that looked as though it might have been Sophie’s parents’. The only good news had been that Martha had suddenly remembered Sophie telling her that she could travel as Angela Stafford if necessary. All Brian could think of was staking out the commercial quarter of the city and hiring an investigator to dig deeper.
“He’s due downstairs in an hour,” Brian said, clicking his fingers at Raika as Martha disengaged her hand. Flicking her hair back to one side, Raika went to him and knelt between his spread thighs, her fingers immediately busy at his flies.
Martha smiled. “Relax after the flight, why don’t you?”
“I will,” he said, settling back as Raika’s soft mouth opened wide to enable her to take in the thick shaft of his cock and allow the bulbous helm that dwarfed her face to lodge at her throat. She managed a muffled sigh of pleasure as she felt Martha’s hand stroke her breast. Martha finished her drink and lifted herself off the sofa long enough to hoist her skirt up and twitch aside her knickers, then she guided Raika’s hand up to her cunt and settled down beside Brian.
The P.I. conformed eerily to stereotype, Martha thought. He didn’t look as if he was ever entirely clean-shaven and even his suit had a sort of ground-in shabbiness to it. But Peter Lang at The Lodge had assured Brian that he asked only the questions you wanted him to ask and suffered complete amnesia when he was paid. He had a good reputation among the upper strata of Texas society.
They briefed him thoroughly, he took notes and then left, promising a progress report in a week.
During the next seven days, Brian and Martha set out early and breakfasted at cafes where they could see people arriving for work at the more prestigious buildings in town. They lunched in the most patronised restaurants, where Martha insisted that Sophie would probably be taken by men hopeful of getting into her knickers. They sat outside café’s in the evenings and went to theatres and cinemas by night. The only variation from the pattern was a quick visit to a very upmarket fetish shop where they bought a couple of whips to keep Raika happy as they hadn’t wanted to risk bringing them in on the plane.
But at the end of the week they were no farther forward. All three of them met the P.I. in the lobby of the hotel, Raika flushed and excited from a shopping trip.
“Hate to disappoint you folks,” the investigator said as his coffee arrived and the waitress retreated. “All I can find is that Angela Stafford flew in from Charles de Gaulle a couple of months back, right enough. But where she went and what happened after that…I gotta big fat zero. She didn’t book out on any flight, train or coach, so she’s gotta be round here someplace.”
“Suppose she bought a car, or hired one?” Brian suggested.
“I checked. Nothing registered. But I did find out the name she used when she changed it away from Sophie Suarez, I gotta contact in the UK.”
It had come as something of a shock to Martha to realise that she had no idea what her lover had been called prior to their meeting in Paris.
“She was known as Sophie Crookland,” he went on. “So I went back and double checked everything on that name,”
“And?” Brian leaned forwards hopefully.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
Brian’s face clouded with disappointment and he frowned. Martha saw Raika look concerned, she practically worshipped him.
“Raika, why don’t you go up to the room and change into something you’ve bought. Something that Mr Brian might like,” she suggested.
Raika smiled gratefully at her and set off for the lift with her bags. Her bottom rolled enticingly in her tight little skirt that ended a good four inches above the knee.
The P.I. watched her go with his tongue practically hanging out.
“That is one classy piece of ass!” he breathed and then brought himself back to the business in hand. “I sure hate to charge without being able to help you any more than that, but I gotta make a living.”
He slid an envelope across to Brian who opened it, read it dispassionately, then took out his wallet and counted out some bills. He slipped the bills quickly into the envelope, passed it back and put the room swipecard on it.
“Check it,” he said. “And if you’re happy with what’s in there, go on up and tell her I sent you.”
The man looked into the envelope and made a swift calculation before glancing up and smiling at Brian. “Seems fair to me.”
Martha ordered more coffee and they sat back to wait.
“So what now?” she asked.
Brian shrugged. “Like he said, it seems as if she’s somewhere around; but where?”
“I think we ought to stay and just keep on sniffin
g about. Trouble is we can’t alert anyone to who we’re looking for.”
“No,” Brian said. “And I just hope he hasn’t stirred anything up and alerted anyone.”
The P.I. returned after half an hour, gave them back the card and thanked Brian profusely. Then his eye lit on Martha and he glanced back at the lift thoughtfully.
“Hey, you don’t mind my asking, but you aren’t anything to do with the arenas are you? Only I heard they’re getting really big over there.”
“Yeah, they are – and, yeah, we are,” Brian told him carefully.
“Only, like I say, I hate not to give good service. Especially since you let me face fuck and lay that little fire cracker you got upstairs. There’s a place out of town that runs ponies – if you know what I mean. Won’t help find your girl of course, but it might make your journey a bit more pleasant. It’s called the Pretty Pony I believe, I can get a number for you if you like.”
Brian shrugged. “Why not? Thanks for the thought.”
Chapter Five
Wilbur was having his usual frugal breakfast at his desk and watching his girls take their usual ration of thirty lashes each on the monitor screens mounted on the wall opposite when one flagged up an incoming call. He took the call and Henry’s rather worried face appeared.
“Mr Floyd, I think we may have a problem, Sir,” he said as soon as he saw Wilbur.