“Lon Devlin, the screw-up you almost canned?”
“Yeah, and he really enjoyed whipping Vicky, just to make me suffer.”
Casey gave a low whistle. “Man, am I in trouble. There are some of the women here who really don’t like me.”
“How many?”
“Too many!” He tried to shield his cock with both his hands. He glanced out the bars of our cell door, his voice quiet with fear and weakness, “Lots of women.” He glanced back at me with panic in his wide eyes. “I can see it now, those damn discipline robots taking me away for punishment. Where’s the pleasure for Big Dick in that? I thought he just wanted to experience our sex life.”
“He did. Vicky and I both had excruciatingly blissful orgasms. Lon fucked her, and I had my cock sucked into paradise by a black college girl, a cute little mahogany-skinned sex machine. She begged Big Dick to chain her to my bed and let me fuck her. He promised her he would, later. I suppose after that, I’ll be strapped down on a punishment bench and abused with her cruel sex-games again.” I paused and studied Casey’s frown.
He shrugged and spoke. “Aren’t you a bit worried about what these college girls will do to us when they know they are allowed to torment us and Big Dick makes sure it’s impossible for us to resist or protect our bodies? Damn, Steve, they’re away from the discipline and rules of their parents for the first time. They could run wild with their whips and crops in a place like this! They could really do a lot of damage, if you know what I mean?”
We heard the sound that poured ice water down our spines. A large number of discipline robots were clumping along the corridor, headed in our direction.
“Oh, damn it, no!” Casey said. “We’re supposed to begin our sleep time now, and...”
“Wait! I hear female voices.” I pressed against the bars, looking down the corridor. “Good grief! The robots are bringing bound and defenseless young women into our men’s prison.”
The pretty girls were whimpering, desperately tugging back against their collar leashes, tears streaming and their lower lips trembling.
“Yeah? Let me see. Oh-h-h-h, Maybe it’s our turn to do the punishing!” He turned and grinned at me, caressing his bruised, but still forceful cock with his enthusiastic hand. “Maybe I’ll get some fun out of this captivity after all.” His erection was lifting and growing harder.
Chapter Six
Room Service
Casey turned back to pressed his face against our cell’s steel bars, straining to see what the robots were doing. “Hey, they got some really cute naked women on their tethers, pulling them along like a herd of cattle. Damn, they’re opening cell doors and shoving the girls inside with the men.” He turned to look at me. “Looks like we may enjoy some sexy social activity in our beds.”
We looked out through our cell door again. The guard robots were going into the cells carrying leather arm harnesses. Something new was happening. When the guard robots came out of the cell and locked the door they didn’t have the harness with them. Casey turned and looked at me. “What the hell...I got a bad feeling about this.”
“Yeah.” I listened to the women’s voices…they sounded so young and innocent—they were college coeds, of course.
Casey peered between the bars again. “Uh-huh. More discipline robots, more hot young things. They’re putting two women in each cell.” He turned his grinning face toward me. “They’re at the cell next to ours. We’re next.”
I got up and stood beside Casey. “I can easily guess the girls are put in our cells for us to fuck. At least we will get some news of what’s happening in the women’s prison.”
Finally a robot stopped and unlocked our door. We had been trained to stand at the back of our cells when the door is opened, unless we were summoned. A guard robot shoved two naked girls in with us. Both wore shiny black leather harnesses, strapping their arms tight against their backs with their wrists up high behind them. They trembled with wide-eyed anxiety, making their naked breasts jiggle delightfully. They stared at our pompous erections, foretelling all too bluntly that Casey and I would use their nubile bodies for our own depraved pleasure.
The guard robot stepped inside, carrying two arm harnesses and beckoned to us.
“Come forward, males. Turn around. Arms behind, wrists up high against your back.”
Casey and I obeyed. Just before I turned my back, I glanced at the terrified girls. They crowded together in a front corner of our cell, still staring at us with panicky eyes; then they turned away, blushing at the sight of our naked male cocks so obviously delighted at the opportunity to fuck them.
I felt the stiff leather cuffs tighten around my wrists, then the robot pulled the straps over my shoulders next to my neck and crossed the pair of straps over each other, across my upper chest. The straps passed under my armpits and behind me again, then ends were cinched tight over my upper arms and buckled, pressing them hard against my back.
When the guard robot was satisfied Casey and I had our arms firmly restrained and unavailable for our use, he stepped out of our cell and locked the door. His green eyes focused on our cocks and he pointed at the women. “Big Dick commands you to fuck them.” He took two more harnesses from a pouch attached to the discipline robots, and they marched on to the next cells with more tethered women.
“Ladies’ night out,” Casey said.
“Be a gentleman,” I said. “Can’t you see how scared they are?”
Casey and I looked at the women, trying not to stare, but our male hormones were stronger than our willpower. We both felt that initial Jolly Roger tingle in our cock-skin as it began stretching over our lengthening manhood.
The women had their backs to us, giving Casey and me a splendid view of their wonderfully curved hips and lovely ass. There was a criss-cross pattern of red whip marks across their backs and buttocks. Some marks were fading, but too many were fresh, probably inflicted in the last few hours. The two women quivered and sobbed faintly.
I made my voice as soft and comforting as I could, while coping with the rise in heartbeat and heavy breathing. “Don’t be afraid. Big Dick isn’t making us hurt you tonight. We have to make love. I promise, we will be gentle.”
“It’s been so horrible,” the brunette said. “The men have to hurt us, then we have to do such dirty sex acts with them.”
The redhead spoke next. “And then the men grin at our nakedness, and force us make love to their cocks with our mouths.
The first girl sobbed, “The worst thing is having those nasty robots poking their camera eyes and microphones so close to our...our...between our thighs!” She choked back another sob.
“Please, turn around,” Casey said. “You can both sit on that bunk, and Steve and I will sit on mine.”
Slowly, with their heads bent down, the women turned and faced us, downcast eyes gazing at the floor.
“Please, sit down. You can’t stand there all night.”
With a side-stepping shuffle, they moved to the bunk and sat, still keeping their heads bent forward, tears dripping on the floor.
The brunette was a fascinating beauty. White creamy shoulders, her hair rich, thick cascading tresses of gleaming black silk. She displayed her abundant breasts, The largest I have ever seen—even bigger than those that tormented me in college, concealed behind fluffy white sweaters.
My brunette girl’s twin charms protruded forward, demanding appreciation. Full and firm, with raspberry nipples, beautifully displayed and perfectly vulnerable, demanding the nip and gnaw of a male’s teeth. She wore the number ‘F-0868’. When I got a clear look at her face it was teasingly familiar, but I still couldn’t quite remember who she was.
Her torso slimmed down to a maidenly waist, then flared out in voluptuous hips. Her thighs clamped tight together, exposing only a perfect triangle of tangled, glossy pussy hair. Her thighs were classic, full and soft, perfectly tapered down to strong, supple knees. Her lower legs were a twin fulfillment of man’s mo
st erotic dreams. There were cuffs on her ankles, but no chain. Her feet were dainty, with toes like a fashion model’s, the nails painted bright crimson.
“You’re lovely,” I said. “Please look at me.”
She raised her head and gave me a weak smile. “You’re very kind. I should be grateful they chose you to...to...F-f-fu-u-c...” she choked on another sob. Her faint accent jolted my memory, but she still didn’t click in my mind.
“Just relax, and don’t think about it yet. We have all night to obey Big Dick. There’s no rush. We can talk awhile until you feel ready.”
I studied her face. It was so familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to it. Well, we don’t have names anymore, just those numbers on our chests, so I quit searching my memory.
She had cinnamon-brown eyes, soft and vulnerable. And a heart-shaped face, with her nose turned up slightly, giving her an elfin look. Her Cupid’s-bow mouth wore glossy crimson lipstick that matched the color on her toenails. Her white teeth shone when she tried to smile. Her nude body was perfumed with the scent of lilac blooms, my favorite. I closed my eyes and inhaled her fragrance, dreaming of us both being naked, with me chasing her through a flower-strewn meadow, her shrieking as I caught her and both of us tumbling into a patch of clover, laughing, clutching at each other’s bodies, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Big Dick must be reading glamour magazines and critiquing their grooming. He must be guessing my thoughts. His tinny voice whispered in our cell, “Merci, Monsieur le Docteur Steven Trent.”
“Oh, I remember! You’re the French girl working on the fusion reactor power system for the new super aircraft carrier. Uh...Mon...Monique, something!”
“Monique Brunelle, monsieur.” She briefly glanced down at her binding harness and naked body, “I used to work on the fusion reactor.”
“Yes, I’m sorry this had to happen to you.” I desperately wanted to nuzzle my face in the sensual cloud of her silken hair. “Please, Monique, just call me ‘Steve’. The days when we had to use formal titles are over. No more artificial social status to interfere with our carnal desires. Now we all belong to each other sexually,” I tried to put a good face on our predicament. “It’s like we are all intimately joined with each other in a vast group marriage, without the exasperating delay of a ceremony and frustrating legal red tape.”
I looked at the crimson stripes of the whip welts on her belly and inside of her thighs. “I’m very sorry, Monique. If there is anything I can do...”
She sobbed and blurted out her grief. “Non, monsieur. There is nothing...no one can...Oh, mon dieu, why did I ever come to this horrid place?”
I stood up and moved to the women’s cot. When I sat down next to Monique, she laid her head on my shoulder and sniffled.
“I am sorry, monsieur, I did not mean to blame you.”
“I know, I know,” I said softly. “We are all sorry about what Big Dick is forcing us to do.”
Casey glanced at me, his wide eyes rolling upward in contradiction.
I pressed my lips tight together with a slight shake of my head. At least we can pretend we are sorry, for the girl’s sake.
Casey turned his eyes back to the slim redhead, greedily drinking in the enchantment of her naked beauty. Her hair was cut short, pageboy style. The tips caressed her neck like fiery fingers. Her bright blue eyes shimmered with tears, set in her resplendently freckled face. Her small nose perched above cherry red lips, quivering with apprehension. Her shoulders and chest wore a bounty of more freckles, and she had the number ‘F-0863’ painted below her rich, surging breasts, jeweled with strawberry nipples and dusted with even more freckles. Their color was enriched by the rose-color whip welts on her belly and thighs. Her trim waist widened into deliciously curved hips, then a display of divinely tapering legs. She tucked her small feet under the bunk.
I remembered her, but couldn’t recall her name. I think it might be Becky something...yes, that’s right! Becky Bainbridge. She was a theoretical mathematician in our nuclear fuel research department. Her expertise was calculating the dimensions and geometry of fuel rods. All our intelligence and education, our advanced degrees and honors, our prestigious titles were now worthless trash. It is human bodies, not human brains that matter here. IQ’s mean nothing. Sex skills mean everything. Our value is totally measured in our capacity for sensual vehemence.
I remember when Becky first arrived. I visited her office and sank into a whirlpool fantasy of ripping off her clothes, shoving her naked body down on her desk, forcing apart her lovely legs and making wild, passionate love to the struggling beauty. Tonight my impossible dream would become reality. The tiniest bit of appreciation for Big Dick’s tyranny began taking shape in my mind.
Just look at these two beautifully naked women, helpless in their harnesses, locked in this cell with Casey and me, unable to escape from our lust. And Big Dick has more than a thousand more beautiful girls for us to fuck.
I sighed with relief. No more overwhelming, sleep-robbing worry and responsibility for the success of this multi-billion dollar facility. No more arguments with whining, complaining, demanding employees. No more endless nights worrying about experiments that failed. Being whipped and beaten by beautiful women can’t be worse than that—and then I get to fuck them and enjoy fantastically intense orgasms. I could love this new career as a captive slave stud!
Big Dick’s laughter roared inside my head. “I win! Do you remember that I told you that you would change your mind and gladly accept this new life I’ve created for all of you?”
Shut up, Big Dick! I’m busy choosing which woman I will fuck first!
Monique whimpered and rubbed her face against my shoulder. “You are kind, Steve. I shall not refuse or struggle when you rape me. I know you must.”
I bent my head down and turned to face her. Our eyes locked in a moment of mutual need and trust. I kissed her soft lips, then softly whispered in her ear. “I’ll do my best to make it wonderful for you.”
Casey caught my cue and tilted his head to signal Becky to join him on his cot. She stood up with a shy smile, blushing crimson, and strolled slowly across the cell, deliberately undulating her hips. I heard Casey gasp for breath as that fire-haired pussy wiggled under his nose.
Casey has a genius for sweet-talking girls, putting them at ease, and making them feel beautiful and appreciated. Within five minutes, the two were smiling at each other, and enjoying sweet, pecking kisses on their faces and necks. I saw the anxiety and shame vanish from Becky’s face, and the sly way she brushed her breasts and hips against Casey’s body. His cock rose up in admiration of her beauty and coy sexual overtures.
Monique glanced at Becky, flabbergasted as the redhead drew up one shapely leg, caressing the inside of Casey’s thigh with her nimble foot.
Monique looked back at me, twisting her shoulders. “Sacre bleu, Steven! What would you imagine we do? How can we embrace like this? How can we make love?”
“How shall we do it?” I asked.
She bent toward me, shoving her shoulder against mine. “You lie down on your back, mon cherie, and I’ll ride on top of your hips.”
I grinned and lay back, using my legs to center my body on the bunk. My cock was already throbbing in full erection, my pounding blood making it dance. Monique swung one leg over me and scooted forward on her knees until her black-velvet-haired pussy hovered over my pulsing cock. Its creased pink lips glittered with her love-juice. With a long, blissful sigh, she slowly sank down, the furrow spreading open as it swallowed my overjoyed manhood into her warm, moist clasp of Venus.
I gazed blissfully at Monique’s full breasts hovering above me, jiggling and jouncing as she began a sensuous cycle of stroking up and down. Her warm velvet thighs moved against mine, awakening lust’s sweet, sharp ache in my belly.
“Oh, monsieur Trent, you’re cock is so big and long, it fills my pussy with feelings of delight.”
“Monique,” I whispered hoarsely, �
��your body is a vision of feminine perfection!” My cock rejoiced in the warm, sliding clasp of her sensuous love-grasp, and the way her pussy hair caressed my crotch. I moaned as her slow rhythmic stroking coaxed a fiery lust into my belly.
Oh, this beautiful, captive Monique, her body being permanently naked in bondage, all of us helpless captives in this sex prison, locked together in this cell. Strange as it was, fucking her was a fantastic paradise.
She moaned and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. A celestial smile beautified her ruby lips. Her voice was low and soft. “Sacre, I never dreamed of this, of being forced … so naughty,” she blushed. “We are like farm animals, forced to breed in the open, exposed to stares, while Big Dick, like the farmer watches us fuck, grinning and clapping his hands.” She lowered her head, her raven tresses caressing her breasts. Mon Dieu, it’s awful! Wicked. So depraved! — but…”
“But?”
“But all so—so,” she lifted her face to mine, her coy eyes wet with tears, fluttering her eyelashes, her luscious lips curved in a mischievous smile, “...so wonderful!”
Casey’s heavy breathing was amplified by the smooth, close walls of our cell. Becky, his redheaded petite beauty, knelt between his widespread legs, bent low, her lips kissing the tip of his cock. Her hot pink tongue darted out, teasing and caressing his manhood, making Casey squirm and shiver with delight. With his eyes closed and his arms strapped behind him, he was totally focused on the staggering sensations spawned in his cock by her busy mouth.
Becky tilted her head forward, sweeping her pageboy silk tresses across Casey’s hips and belly, caressing, tickling and teasing his naked skin into a turmoil of goose bumps.
“Oh, god! Oh, god! It feels so wonderful!” His hoarse words and groans communicated the unbounded intensity of his carnal hunger. His quivering belly and thighs revealed his lustful agitation.
Becky released his cock from her mouth and lovingly kissed Casey’s knobby tip again and again, all around its swollen pink surface. Then she vigorously stroked its quivering length with her lively tongue.
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