“Oh, gawd yes!” He moaned and panted, alternately gritting his teeth and holding his breath in spellbound bliss, then gasping to fill his starved lungs. Wordless sounds echoed in his throat, his legs and feet twitched and shivered erratically.
“Now,” Becky cooed, “it’s my turn. Are you as clever and talented with your tongue as I am with mine?” She rose up and moved forward on her knees until her pussy hovered over Casey’s mouth. She smiled down at him. Her voice oozed in the air like subtle honey. “Make me cum, sir. Give me a screaming orgasm.” Becky closed her eyes and tilted her head far back as she slowly lowered her temple of Venus against his mouth.
I had overheard through the women’s grapevine about Casey’s virile reputation, and envied him. He had a genius for sexually pleasing a woman. He surely kept Linda, his girlfriend, satisfied. I had lusted after her and desperately tried to seduce her for six months without success. If I weren’t so adsorbed in Monique’s pussy fucking my cock, I would have loved to study his technique. He must be a fantastic oral lover, because even through the pink, gauzy haze of my own lust, I heard Becky’s impetuous, extravagant moans as his tongue stretched upward into her. I imagined it sliding inside her wet pussy lips and passionately caressed her love-button.
But suddenly, my own sensations took command of my attention. “Uh! Um-m-m-m!”
Monique’s silky hips slowed and she lowered her pussy tight against my crotch. She smiled down at me and changed her hip movements to a sensuous, twisting, rocking and sliding motion.
“Oh, god! UNGH!” I had never felt such a fantastic sexual delight in my cock. My belly erupted in a burst of savage sensation. My eyes widened, greedily drinking in the sight of the lovely immensity of her swaying, jerking, and jiggling breasts. My face reddened, burning with lust. My body’s reactions were out of control, completely disconnected from my mind. My brain was nothing more than a helpless witness to my body’s perverted performance.
Monique slowed and stretched forward, bending down and laying her belly on top of my chest. “Mon chou, darling, do you like feeling these?” Gently, deliberately, she wiped the silky pink smoothness of her warm breasts back and forth across my face, dragging her throbbing nipples across my lips.
“Oh, UH! Yes!” I moaned.
Monique slid down, still lying on top of me, capturing my wet cock inside her pussy again. She began cycling her spread thighs, alternately moving them up and down as if she were riding a bicycle. At the same time, she squirmed her chest against mine, sliding and rolling her breasts on top of my naked skin.
The four of us reached the point of no return. Our bodies seized the frail shreds of our willpower, crushing it into subjection. Lust dominated, controlled and rewarded us with explosive orgasms.
Monique’s pussy spasmed.
“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! AUGH!”
Her love muscle seized my cock and ravenously milked my spurting cum into her clasp of Venus. Our throats trumpeted a quartet of wordless joy, and the stone walls of our cell sang with echoed ecstasy. Again and again, I felt the bliss of my throbbing cock pump the viscous milk of my cum up into Monique’s rapacious pussy.
Suddenly, the cell was almost quiet as we lay peacefully with the girls’ bodies collapsed on top of ours, our hearts pounding, our lungs pumping desperately, feeding our exhausted bodies. A grand choir of shrieking, bellowing orgasms rose from the other cells around us, adding to this strange but not unwelcome joy.
Moaning, panting sounds came from Big Dick’s loudspeaker. When they finally slowed with a great sigh, he spoke. “Oh-h-h-h, that felt wonderful! I’ll certainly make you four fuck each other again many times. But now I have an announcement to make to all of you.” Big Dick’s electronic voice echoed through the men’s prison in a happy, singsong, square dance cadence. “Rise up men and count to ten. Trade your partners and fuck again. Hump that girl, dosey-doh. Shoot your cum and make her glow!” His laughter faded away, but his staring green eyes demanded our swift obedience. With weary sighs, Casey and I stood up and staggered across the cell and traded girls.
Big Dick’s voice filled the men’s cells again. ”And if you must, you can rest for thirty minutes. I’ll tell you when I want you to begin fucking again!”
Hundreds of relieved sighs echoed from the cells all down the long corridor.
I stretched out beside Becky. The narrowness of the cot forced us to press our bodies against each other, but neither she nor I seemed to mind.
“Comfortable?” I gazed into her blue eyes.
She glanced away momentarily, biting her lip and trying to find a way to accept what was happening to her.
“Are you all right?” I kissed her earlobe to comfort her.
Becky turned her face back to mine. Her eyes misted with tears. “No, Dr. Trent—uh—I mean, Steve.” She bit her lip again and sobbed.
“What’s wrong? Please, let me help.”
She closed her eyes momentarily, her voice hoarse with anguish. “Big Dick locked my husband in a small cage in the chamber where I was strapped down on a horrid punishment device. He set the cage right next to me, only four feet away, and made him watch what two men did to me.” Her long, silken eyelashes fluttered then she opened them again.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “We all share your grief. Big Dick is humiliating all of us. I guess it adds to his sexual gratification, somehow.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “No… you don’t understand. It wasn’t humiliation I felt. I-I...felt some kind of exultation, an intense flood of physical excitement. There I was naked and strapped down on that device with my legs spread wide, my pussy exposed and defenseless for those men to play cruel games with me. I...I...my god, I wanted my husband to see me being fucked by those men!” She ducked her head and moaned. “What kind of woman have I become?” She lifted her tear-streaked face and looked into my eyes. “Is there something terribly wrong with me? Am I obsessed with sick compulsions?”
I brushed my cheek against her silky scarlet hair. “No, Becky, you’re not sick, or a depraved woman. It’s not you who changed yourself into what you are now. It’s Big Dick, and his robots. We are his captives, his human sex toys, forced to act out abnormal sexual encounters for his amusement. He is the one who is sick.”
“But Mr. Trent—er—Steve, why did being strapped down and fucked by strangers in front of my husband make me feel so...so...”
“Desirable? Sexy? Aroused? Downright horny? Maybe there’s something deep inside us that enjoys being captured, bound and being abused sexually. Did you know he is putting sexual stimulants in our food to goad us into fucking like rutting animals? That’s why you—us—are behaving like horny exhibitionists.”
“Goodness, no! We did suspect, though, that he is adding contraceptive pills to our meals. None of us have become pregnant, even though we are fucked night and day.”
“Thank goodness for that. I was worried about those college girls. They’re losing their virginity, but not their figures.”
Her eyes pleaded with mine. “But is that right? Should we just give in to our animal urges and be thankful for what Big Dick forces us to do?”
I exhaled a long, weary breath. “I can’t tell you what is right for you. You must make up your own mind what’s okay to do. Anyway, until we figure out a way to escape, the question is academic. As long as we are held captive in this sex prison, there’s no possibility of avoiding fucking and being fucked. We have to abuse each other and perform for Big Dick.” I grinned. “And that suggests something to my mind. How about you?”
“Oh? How about you show me what you mean, darling,” she said with a coy grin. She rubbed her belly against mine.
We kissed, twining together our vigorous tongues in each other’s mouths. Big Dick’s soft green eyes glowed, glittering intensely, staring at us, never blinking as our bodies churned and our skin fused in our desperate physical need.
We paused, panting and gasping for breath.
I
shook my head. “This position just isn’t working out for us.”
“I’m sorry, but my legs are just too tired and cramped from humping on top of Casey. How can we make love with our arms harnessed behind us?
I gazed into her blue eyes and smiled. “We can’t give up. I’m so desperate to feel my cock sliding inside your soft, warm pussy.”
“I’m desperately horny, too. I was never like this before. Big Dick must be increasing the amount of his aphrodisiac in our food.” She gazed wistfully at my wobbling cock. “Maybe if I bent over...”
“No, I have it! You lay on your back, sideways on the bunk with your shoulders and head resting against the wall. Lift your legs, and I’ll kneel in front of you, and my cock will be at the same height as your pussy.” I stood up so Becky could twist around and position herself.
Becky settled back and raised her beautiful legs, bent at the knees. “I’ll place my feet on your chest, so I can push you back in the same rhythm you thrust back, to ease the strain on your legs.”
It seems so strange, so bizarre, to fuck naked in a prison cell, to be watched by other people—or watch them—and always under the green unblinking stare of Big Dick’s multitude of eyes. Intuition told me that he was obscenely video recording our every intimate motion; our moans and sighs, the chaotic convulsing of our bodies in the throes of orgasm, the leaping spouts of cum when we are masturbated. He’d become a connoisseur of pornography.
It made me wonder if he’d somehow become human!
Becky and I began the thrusting dance. Our perspiring bodies maneuvered in recurring undulation, like a precision machine, our naked flesh a continuously oscillating clockwork mechanism. My cock was a ticking pendulum of lust, her pussy a pulsing, squeezing vessel. We blissfully gazed at each other, savoring the sensual delights of our coupled genitals, hearing our wordless voices of thrashing exertion, and a desperate passion for carnal gratification.
My physical senses were heightened almost to a state of discomfort. The rough concrete floor under my bare knees, the press of Becky’s sweet toes against my chest, and now the sounds of forced, but enthusiastic fucking coming again from every cell and ricocheting down the corridor.
It was an impossible, unreal world brought into being from Big Dick’s depraved electronic brain gone mad with riotous lust.
Time passed without measurement. Suddenly Becky wailed and squirmed as her pussy shuddered in orgasm.
Like a distant waterfall, my voice roared with exultation. My cum streamed into her, my cock’s spasms hammering every drop out of its distended slit.
There was no universe, no world, no prison, no steel-barred doors robbing us of our freedom. For a few brief, magnificent moments there were only coupled captive naked bodies writhing in mutual, glorious, animal lust.
Becky’s legs went limp, and my exhausted torso collapsed against her. My mouth found her surging breasts and my ravenous lips explored them with ferocious kisses and playful nips. I finally crawled back onto the cot, and Becky and I lay on our sides, facing each other, our perspiring bodies pressed lovingly against each other.
“Oh, that was wonderful!” She closed her eyes and snuggled against me, cooing in fulfilled contentment.
I kissed her forehead. “Pleasant dreams, sweetheart.”
“Hummm,” she murmured, “I don’t need to dream when I’m with you.” Soon she was breathing in the slow, soft rhythm of untroubled sleep.
“That was quite clever, M-0001, the position you invented to fuck F-0863.” Big Dick’s voice was just a whisper, meant only for me. Casey and Monique were also asleep, her head still cradled between his legs. A glossy dribble of Casey’s cum gleamed on her crimson lips.
“Glad you enjoyed it.” I turned my face away from his green eyes.
“You seem to have quite a way with the females. When I watch the wicked magic your big cock does in their pussies, I almost wish I were a human male.”
“That’s the ultimate compliment, Big Dick. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now if you will excuse me, I’ve had a long day with the women. I’m exhausted and need to sleep.”
“Of course. Tomorrow will be another exciting day for you humans. I have something really challenging planned, and I want you all fresh and rested for the day’s activities.”
But by the time he finished his warning, I had drifted off and couldn’t care less what he said.
Chapter Seven
Handmade Love
When we woke in the morning the girls were gone; returned to the women’s prison by the guard robots. Our arm harnesses had been removed.
“They must have drugged us during the night,” I said.
“Probably something in the water we drank,” Casey replied.
Casey and I showered, ate breakfast when it was delivered, then stood at our steel-barred cell door, waiting to see what sick perversion Big Dick would force us to do today. We didn’t need to wait long to find out. An army of those giant spider robots came clumping down the corridor, opening cell doors and locking towing leashes to our cock harness.
It was a long, difficult march through a maze of dim tunnels to a new building Big Dick had constructed for his games. This one was only four high walls, open to the sky with no roof. At least we could see the blue sky and breathe fresh outdoor air again.
The spider-legged discipline robot towed me up a sloping ramp and through an opening into the building. It was constructed much like the few others I had seen; concrete walls two feet thick, and a concrete floor, but as I said, no ceiling. The walls were twenty feet high and topped with razor-sharp concertina wire. Big Dick took great care not to let any of his captives hope for escape. There was no paint, no décor, nothing to soften the harsh interior with a human touch. Like Big Dick and his robots, many of our science buildings were modified to his design and were strictly functional—and I dreaded finding out what some of the other functions were. But I probably would, and much too soon.
There were dozens of discipline robots in the huge interior, each with a naked man fastened to their tether. Guard robots clustered around them, disconnecting the tethers and leading the men to the frames mounted four feet above the floor, arranged side by side, six feet apart, in a large diameter circle.
The guard robots strapped us down on the horizontal frames shaped like an upside-down “Y”. They spread our legs wide apart, and stretched our arms up beside our heads. Wrists, elbows, knees and ankles were strapped down. One more strap was cinched tight over our bellies, straps around our thighs just below our hips and above our knees, and last, around our ankles. It was hopelessly impossible for us to move or protect our hazardously exposed cocks and balls, fragile-skinned toys for some cruel game.
A multitude of voyeur robots rolled up beside every male. They extended their goose-neck appendage mounted with Big Dick’s ever-vigilant green camera eyes at the top. The necks twisted and brandished their staring lenses until they were positioned directly above each male's cock, leering at every cruel instant of our ordeal.
I tried to glance around the circle, looking for a friend’s face. I recognized seven, but because our feet were at the outside edge of the circle, most of the men’s faces were not in my range of vision. We glanced at each other, the nervous apprehension obvious in our eyes. My heart hammered inside my chest, not knowing what would be done to us. With our legs stretched uncomfortably wide apart and strapped down tight, I guessed something unpleasant would be done to our defenseless cocks—something we didn’t want to happen. Unfortunately, I was right.
The discipline robots strode away on their eight legs as more of them entered the building from the opposite side. They towed a crowd of beautiful women toward us with their nipple-ring tethers. The robots circled around the men until there were two women positioned for each man. The guard robots released their tethers and led the girls up so there was one stationed between our wide-spread legs and one next to our chest. The
y stood silently, trying to avoid looking at our faces. Some of the younger ones glanced repeatedly at our cocks, fascinated by their obviously undefended vulnerability, and their intentional accessibility. The woman between our legs held a pitcher of unidentified steaming liquid in one hand. The pitchers had insulated handles, the kind that protects hands from hot liquids, and the women were being very careful not to touch the pitcher itself. The other woman of each pair wore a latex glove. A slim metal foil bonded to the outside of the glove spiraled around each finger. At the wrist, each ribbon had a thin insulated wire hanging in a slack loop back to a black metal box. There was a conspicuous electrical switch and a jagged lighting logo on the box. It was obvious; those latex gloves were wired to deliver a horrifying electrical jolt when they stroked our cocks!
I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a long, deep breath and exhale slowly.
Big dick’s voice echoed in the stark interior. “Today you humans will entertain me by participating in a delightful contest I invented for my pleasure, a cum race. The females will masturbate the males. Here are my rules: The first men to lose control and squirt your cum will be taken to the punishment chamber and spend a harrowing day being sexually tortured. But the very last male who succumbs and squirts his cum will be rewarded with freedom from any harness or restraint, enjoying a peaceful day in his cell with any female of his choice. So, men,” Big Dick’s laugh rumbled through the air, “you better strain desperately to avoid ejaculating—if you can.” He roared with harsh laughter. “Now, let’s see who is lucky enough to be the last male to cum.” He paused and I could almost imagine him rubbing his virtual reality hands together with glee. “To make this contest interesting, the girl who forces her male to cum first, will not be punished today. She also will be rewarded with a peaceful day in her cell with any male of her choice. But,” Big Dick paused momentarily and all the women held their breath, “All the females whose males cum after the first male does, will be taken to the punishment chamber and also spend this entire day being sexually tortured. So, females better stroke those cocks and cuddle those balls. Make that man cum first! And men, better struggle and strain to make sure she doesn’t succeed... ” he laughed, “...if you can. My guard robots will observe and decide the winners and losers. Oh, I almost forgot” He laughed again, “Those pitchers the women are holding are full of hot oil—painfully hot oil. That stinging bath should wake up your cocks and make them slippery and unbearably sensitive to your female’s erotic touch.
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