Enslaved

by Ray Gordon

'I don't know. I feel funny, between my legs, inside my bum.'

  'Perhaps you've been sitting on damp grass or something. Anyway, I'm going out to the garage to... to tidy up. It's a right mess out there.'

  'Oh, by the way, I'm thinking of going out this evening - you'd nothing planned, had you?' Marianne asked as he neared the back door.

  'Er... Actually... Where are you going?'

  'I thought I'd go and see Jill.'

  'Why not ask her round here? I'm going out to see a client so I won't be in your way.'

  'All right, I'll do that.'

  'Good. I'll go and clear the garage up. See you in a while.'

  Alone at last, Marianne massaged between her legs, desperate for her holes, her stretched muscles, to return to their original size. Standing up to ease the discomfort, she tried to formulate her plan, her plan to leave Barry.

  But how do I ensure that I can still play my games with Jill and Lydia? she wondered. Word must never get out that she'd been conning everyone. 'Decision time,' she breathed, opening the back door. 'Barry!' she called, walking round the side of the house. Finding him working at the bench in the garage, she took a deep breath. 'Barry, I want to talk to you,' she said sternly.

  'What about?' he asked, trying to conceal whatever it was he was constructing.

  'I want to talk to you about us, our relationship,' she began.

  'Our relationship?' he echoed, his dark eyes frowning. 'Our relationship's OK, isn't it?'

  'Things have changed, Barry. I don't want to carry on the way we...'

  'Juxtaposition.'

  Her heart racing, her stomach churning, Marianne desperately tried to move her body, to put an end to the ridiculous farce - but she couldn't move. Her muscles wouldn't respond, she was unable to speak. To her horror, the trigger word seemed to have worked!

  'Our relationship is fine,' Barry smiled, staring into her glazed eyes. 'There's nothing to worry about, you're perfectly happy with me - and you want to stay with me. You're desperately in love with me, Marianne, remember that. Now, I'll bring you out of the trance and you can go and make me a sandwich and a cup of coffee.'

  As Barry clicked his fingers, Marianne's power over her body returned immediately. Stunned, she said nothing as she left the garage. Closing the back door behind her, her heart pounding, her legs sagging, she leaned on the kitchen table to steady herself. 'No, it must have been my imagination,' she tried to convince herself. 'The word doesn't really work. It can't.'

  As Barry entered the kitchen Marianne turned to face him, praying for him to say the word again, desperate to prove to herself that it had been her imagination. 'I'll make you a sandwich,' she smiled, her legs still shaking, her palms wet. 'What are you up to in the garage?'

  'Juxtaposition!'

  Her arms hanging limply by her sides again, Marianne had no control over her body. Her thoughts swirling, she realized that now the word actually worked. Although her thinking was clear, she was in some sort of hypnotic trance.

  'I'm making some devices, sex-toys and the like, for the filming sessions,' Barry said as he squeezed her firm breasts and kissed her cheek. 'We're going to be in the money,' he laughed. 'And the beauty of the whole thing is that you'll know nothing about it. Just think, you'll be a porn queen, watched by hundreds, thousands of men - and you'll know nothing about it.'

  Unable to speak, to protest, Marianne could do nothing to halt Barry as he knelt before her and lifted her skirt. Pulling her panties down, he gazed at her hairless, swollen vaginal lips, her neat dividing groove, her emerging inner petals.

  'Mine, all mine,' he said triumphantly, planting a kiss on her warm mound. 'Your cunt, your whole body - all mine to do with as I wish, when I wish. Going on that hypnosis course was the best thing you ever did. And to think that I moaned about the money it cost. It was the best few hundred quid I ever spent!'

  Her mind racked, her body completely immobile, deprived of her defences, Marianne gasped as Barry pushed a finger between her vaginal lips. Delving deep into her tightening pussy-sheath, he massaged her inner flesh, delighting at the power he had over the girl.

  'The vibrator,' he suddenly cried. 'Come upstairs to the bedroom, and you can masturbate while I watch.' Slipping his finger from her tight hole, he stood up. 'Up you go, you dirty slut,' he ordered excitedly. 'I'm really going to use you, your beautiful cunt.'

  Seemingly having a mind of their own, Marianne's legs automatically climbed the stairs and carried her to the bedroom. 'Take all your clothes off,' Barry instructed, grabbing the vibrator from the bedside drawer. Her hands mechanically removing her top, unclipping her bra and freeing her pert breasts, Marianne couldn't halt her disrobing. 'Right, now lie on the bed with your legs wide apart,' he demanded as she slipped her skirt and panties off.

  Her naked body vulnerable, she lay on the bed with her legs outstretched, her pinken girl-crack wide open. 'Now use the vibrator and bring yourself off,' Barry directed his sex slave, passing her the pink plastic phallus as he sat on the edge of the bed. 'This will be a trial run, a rehearsal before the filming.'

  Switching the device on, Marianne peeled her vaginal lips apart, exposing her glistening flesh, her stiffening clitoris. Pressing the buzzing tip of the vibrator against her pleasure-bud, the sensations immediately transmitting deep into her womb, she gasped. 'Ah, ah, God! God, my cunt!' She had no control over her uncharacteristic words - all she could do was listen to herself as she breathed her appreciation for her body. 'That's good. Ah, yes! I love masturbating. God, how I love the vibrator against my clit.'

  'Perfect!' Barry cried. 'You're going to be a movie star. And I'm going to be fucking rich.'

  Her fear and confusion slipping away as the vibrator made her throbbing clitoris swell, Marianne reached beneath her thighs with her free hand and slipped two fingers into her drenched vagina. Thrusting her fingers in and out of her tight hole as the vibrator played on her ballooning clitoris, she began to writhe and pant as her orgasm approached.

  Wailing as her climax gripped her, Marianne shook uncontrollably. 'God, I'm there!' she cried, her stomach rising and falling, her firm breasts heaving. 'God, I'm coming!' Watching the amazing spectacle, Barry massaged his huge bulge, wondering in which hot orifice to deposit his sperm. Unzipping his trousers, he positioned his rock-hard penis, his bulbous purple knob close to Marianne's gasping mouth and ordered her to suck.

  Opening her full red lips wider, she took his solid knob inside her hot mouth, licking his silky-smooth glans as the vibrator sustained her multiple orgasm. Mouthing like a babe at the breast, her wet lips tightly closed around his throbbing crown, she brought out his sperm, savouring the salty fluid, swallowing hard as her cheeks filled.

  Her own climax declining, she moved her head back and forth, taking Barry's knob to the back of her throat and withdrawing the solid glans again. Drinking the last of his jetting come, she suddenly realized that she was back in control. She had the free will to move, to command her limbs. As she slipped Barry's spent knob from her mouth, she frowned. I must have convinced myself that the word really works, she thought, gazing up at the satisfaction so obviously depicted in Barry's expression.

  Barry finally climbed off the bed, zipping his trousers and gazing at Marianne's dripping vaginal crack, the creamy lubricant smeared over her smooth pussy lips. 'That's enough for now,' he said. 'We'll have some fun this evening. Did you ask Jill round?'

  'No,' she breathed, happy to be in control again, but still perplexed as to what had happened.

  'Do it the minute you get downstairs. I'll postpone Dave. Shame, really, he'd offered me fifty pounds for a couple of hours with you. Right, get dressed and come downstairs.'

  As Barry left the room, Marianne smiled. Whatever had happened to her during the frightening time she'd been unable to exert her conscious will wouldn't happen again, she was sure. A quirk, a fluke, she decided as she dressed. My subconscious playing tricks on me.

  This wasn't the time to walk out on Barry after all, she th
ought as she dressed. Apart from having nowhere to go, why should she leave her home? If anyone's leaving, it should be him - the bastard!

  'All right, love?' Barry smiled congenially as Marianne entered the kitchen.

  'Yes, fine,' she replied, aware of her silk panties caressing her hairless pussy lips. 'Except for one thing.' Might as well get it over with.

  'Oh, what's that?'

  'I don't quite know how to tell you this but... Well, you'll never believe me, Barry, but... my pubic hair has all fallen out.'

  'Fallen out? What are you talking about? Show me.' Lifting her skirt and pulling the front of her panties down, Marianne revealed her full, naked pussy lips to her boyfriend. Her vaginal crack still wet from her masturbation session, her engorged inner lips peeping out at Barry, Marianne pulled her wet panties down further, revealing her full naked glory to his wide eyes. Feigning astonishment, his only comment was that it could be due to worry.

  'That's ridiculous,' Marianne laughed, suddenly having the answer. 'Worry doesn't cause your pubes to fall out!'

  'Why did you shave?'

  'I didn't shave.'

  'Then you must have some weird sort of problem.'

  'Actually, I did shave,' she laughed. 'What do you think?'

  'Sexy. Yes, very sexy.'

  'I knew you'd like it.'

  'But, what on earth made you...?'

  'I did it for a laugh. They'll soon grow back. I read about it in a magazine somewhere. Quite a few women shave their pubes off these days.'

  'I'm glad you did. It's really good, Marianne - really good!'

  'It feels rather strange. My silk knickers rub my lips as I move about - it's quite a turn-on.' Suddenly recalling Barry's instruction, Marianne grinned. 'I'll give Jill a ring and ask her round for the evening.'

  'Good idea. As I said, I'll be out, so you'll have some time alone together to chat about girlie things - shaving fannies and the like.'

  'Yes, it'll be nice.' Well, that's the problem of my shaved pubes dealt with.

  Wondering how Barry intended to hide in the dining room and spy through the serving hatch without giving the game away, Marianne picked up the hall phone and rang Jill. 'I'd love to come round,' came the girl's excited reply. 'Er... the thing is, Lydia's with me, so...'

  God, not Lydia, Marianne thought fearfully, recalling the girl's words: 'I'll give her a bloody good thrashing.' Lydia was a strange one, she mused. Radiating an uncanny air of decadence, she frightened Marianne. Jill was soft, gentle, loving. But Lydia?

  'That's OK, bring her along,' Marianne finally conceded.

  'Great! Er... will Barry be there?'

  'No, he's got to go out for a few hours. Something about seeing a client, I think.'

  'Oh, right. About seven, if that's OK?'

  'Fine. I'll see you later.'

  Wandering into the lounge, Marianne sat in the armchair, contemplating the incredible situation. 'So much for decision time,' she sighed as the back door slammed shut. Barry was obviously off to construct some weird and wonderful sexual gadgets in the garage. God, is this what I really want? she wondered, imagining playing the role of a tart. 'A tart in a trance,' she giggled.

  Suddenly having an idea, Marianne dashed upstairs to the bedroom. 'OK, Barry, I'll play along with you for a while. But, I promise you, very soon now the whole thing will backfire in your face.' Slipping her wet panties off and taking a large can of hairspray from the dressing table, she sat on the edge of the bed and peeled her vaginal lips wide apart. 'I'll beat him at his own debauchery,' she asserted wickedly, pressing the end of the can between her rubicund sex-folds.

  Her idea was to see how big an object she could insert into her tight pussy-hole. She wanted to be one step ahead of Barry's perversity - to shock him with her own perversity. The huge can slipping into her opening sex-duct, she gasped, gazing at her full outer lips tightly encompassing the can. 'It must be almost three inches across!' she exclaimed, pushing the can deep into her vagina. 'Well, that didn't present a problem,' she giggled, easing the can in to the hilt.

  Slipping the wet can out of her inflamed vagina, she scanned the room, looking for something larger, thicker. 'Ah, yes,' she breathed in her abandonment, discarding the can and taking a long, cylindrical plastic container of wet-wipes from the dressing table. 'This must be over four inches in diameter.'

  Try as she did, painfully stretching her vaginal lips, she couldn't insert the container into her fiery cuntal sheath. Disappointed, she grabbed a bottle of baby lotion and smeared the creamy liquid over the plastic container. 'I've got to get it in,' she declared in her frightening sexual arousal, peeling her outer lips wide apart and pushing the container against her fleshy hole. Suddenly realizing the lewdness of her act, she wondered what the hell she was trying to do to her body, and she decided that she was nowhere big enough to take the massive container.

  'Ah, God,' she cried as the container was suddenly sucked deep into her vagina. 'Ah, ah, no! What have I done?' Her outer lips now taut rolls of flesh, her clitoris forced from its pinken cover, she gazed in amazement at the plastic container protruding from her abused vagina. 'God, it's... it's so... so big. My poor cunt.'

  Gazing at the thrilling spectacle in the dressing-table mirror, she reclined, opening her thighs as far as she could, imagining the video camera running, recording her obscene act of wanton self-abuse. Turning her head to one side, she noticed the vibrator lying on the bed. Her arousal running feverishly high, she grabbed the device, switching it on and massaging her erect clitoris with the pink tip.

  Her nostrils flaring, her mouth open, gasping, she could barely believe the incredible sensations emanating from her bloated cunt, her swollen pleasure-bud. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tossed her head, writhing as her clitoris stiffened fully, sending electrifying sensations of crude sex through her inflated pelvis. 'God, no!' she cried as her vaginal muscles gripped the plastic container, trying to crush the mammoth phallus as her climax erupted, gripping her very being in its velvet hand.

  Her body rigid, her breasts heaving, her nipples solid, her areolae a dark chocolate colour in her sexual arousal, she prayed for her shuddering climax to recede. 'No, no!' she murmured, her muscles locked, her hand unable to move the vibrator away from her bursting clitoris.

  Finally releasing her body, her orgasm subsided, leaving her perspiring, panting, shaking uncontrollably, her long blonde hair matted, dishevelled. 'God! Never in all my life...' Relaxing now, she tugged on the plastic container, gently easing it from her gripping cuntal sheath, managing to pull against the powerful suction effect of her wet sex-cylinder and slip it from her body. 'Ah, God!' she gasped as her vaginal sheath suddenly closed, the creamy walls slapping together, filling the void.

  Marianne lay resting on the bed, her abused vagina aching, her pussy lips inflamed, swollen, dripping with girl-come. Examining the wet container, she was amazed that she'd been able to push it into her sex-duct. But the idea spurred her on and, recalling Barry's words, she wondered about her bottom-hole. I reckon you could take three inches.

  Taking a roll-on deodorant bottle from the dressing table, she pondered on the penis-like shape, the bulbous knob-like cap. The manufacturer had feminine needs in mind when designing this, she thought, smearing baby lotion over the plastic cap.

  Lying on the bed with her knees up to her chest and her thighs wide, she reached down and presented the rounded cap to her tightly-closed brown hole. Pushing, twisting the bottle in her bizarre state of arousal, she managed to open her private portal, pressing half the cap into her anal sheath. 'Ah, that's nice,' she gasped, pushing the cap further into her tight duct.

  Gently but firmly she pushed on the bottle, opening her rectal sheath as the shaft drove deeper and deeper into her body. It's not bloody thick enough, Barry's lewd words drifted in her mind, tantalizing, teasing, goading. Slipping the bottle out of her stretched duct, she sat upright, scanning the room for something more suitable, something longer, thicker.

  'Ah, yes
,' she grinned, taking a perfume bottle from the dressing table. 'Six inches long, almost three inches in diameter - perfect!' Although her perverted thoughts were beginning to disturb her, she wasn't going to be swayed from scoring over Barry on the debauchery front. 'I know I can do it,' she asserted, lying back on the bed and raising her knees to her chest again.

  The rounded end of the bottle well-lubricated, she offered the impromptu phallus to her oily anal portal. Gently pushing, persuading her brown ring to yield, she was determined to ease the bottle deep into her hot bowels. Her clitoris throbbed in response as her sphincter muscles surrendered to the huge phallus, opening three inches to allow the gigantic intruder access to her bowels.

  'Oh, my God,' she cried as the bottle suddenly slipped deep into her rectal sheath. 'Oh, oh! God!' Her eyes rolling, she'd never experienced such heavenly sensations from her sadly neglected bottom-hole before. Lying dormant for years, she wondered why she'd never allowed her fingers to cross the short bridge of flesh between her vaginal opening and her rectum to discover her paradisiacal anus. The electrifying sensations her stretched bumhole brought her permeated her very being, and she swore to pay regular intimate attention to her newly-discovered pleasure haven.

  The bottle firmly in place, tightly gripped by her velveteen rectal tube, she grabbed the discarded hairspray can, offering the metal phallus to her gaping vagina, wondering whether she could fill both holes to capacity.

  Slowly, gently, she eased the can into her vaginal canal, stretching the inner flesh, opening her pussy-duct to accommodate the long, thick shaft. If Barry were to come in now, she thought in her mischief, imagining him standing in the doorway eyeing her blatantly abused love-holes. Her clitoris suddenly pulsating, she pushed the can fully home, the metal cooling her cervix, and took the vibrator from the quilt.

  'Oh, my God,' she wailed as she pressed the vibrating pink tip to her ballooning clitoris. 'Ah, God, that's...' Her body writhing, contorting as if in agony, Marianne had never experienced such shuddering peaks of sexual pleasure. She felt the fire of passion deep within her pelvis, a burning desire between her splayed thighs. Her entire being centred deep within her cunt, her tight anal-tube, her throbbing clitoris. Barely able to endure the colossal orgasmic waves as they erupted from her pleasure-bud, sending incredible shockwaves through her quivering body, she held her breath, her eyes rolling in her sexual euphoria.