Enslaved

by Ray Gordon

  'I will have a quick word with Barry,' he smiled, opening the door. 'I won't be a minute.'

  'OK,' Marianne replied, packing her brush into her bag. 'Tell him his coffee's here, will you?'

  'Yes, I will.'

  Opening the garage door, John was surprised to find that Barry wasn't there. Wondering what on earth was going on, he returned to the kitchen just in time to catch Marianne before she left for town.

  'Barry's not out there,' he said as Marianne slung her bag over her shoulder.

  'That's odd. Perhaps he's popped out for something. Anyway, I'm off to town, do you want to wait here for him?'

  'Are you going into town like that?'

  'Like what?' she asked, looking down at her firm breasts. 'Is there something wrong?'

  'Juxtaposition.'

  Standing motionless, Marianne suddenly realized she was naked. What's happening to me? she wondered as John took her bag and placed it on the table. Suddenly remembering all that had happened, recalling strolling around the front garden in all her naked glory, she silently cursed Barry, wondering where he was, why he was going to allow her to go into town without a stitch of clothing.

  'Marianne, why are you naked?' John asked.

  'Barry told me to strip,' she replied mechanically.

  'Why?'

  'I don't know.'

  'Didn't you realize you were naked?'

  'No, I thought I had my clothes on.'

  'It must have been hypnotic suggestion.'

  'Yes, it was.'

  'You'd better dress before you go into town otherwise you'll get yourself arrested. I don't know what the hell Barry thinks he's playing at.'

  'He put my clothes in there,' she said, her finger automatically pointing to the cupboard. 'In a plastic bag.' Opening the cupboard and grabbing the bag, John placed her clothes on the worktop. 'Before you dress, I might as well have a little fun,' he breathed, running his finger up her pinken pussy-crack. 'I was hoping Barry would be out. I thought we'd have a photo session. Is that nice?' he asked, slipping his finger into her hot vaginal sheath.

  'Yes, it is,' she replied, closing her eyes as he gently massaged her inner flesh.

  Standing with her feet apart, Marianne recalled meeting Lydia in the park, having automatically walked there at the appointed time. She also recalled parading her body in the front garden, answering the front door while naked, and she now realized that Barry could have permanent control over her. She felt more like a slave now than ever before. Her body belonged to Barry, it was his to do with as he wished. The power of suggestion was frightening, she pondered, wishing now that she'd taken Rod up on his offer and moved into his house for a while.

  'You've a lovely cunt,' John breathed, inserting another finger into her creamy sex-duct. 'I would have come round sooner, but I've not had the time. But I've been thinking about you, Marianne. Every day, I've thought about you, your cunt. From now on I'll be visiting you every day, when Barry's not around. Right, I'm going to take some photographs of you. I'm rather short of cash, you see. I'll get a good price for the pictures on the campus.'

  Slipping his wet fingers from her tightening vagina, John grabbed his camera. Praying that Barry would walk in and save her as John fiddled with the flashgun, Marianne patiently awaited her instructions. 'OK, feet wide apart and bend over the table,' he finally ordered. Taking her position, Marianne jutted her taut buttocks out as John knelt behind her and focused on her distended vaginal lips. 'That's good!' he praised. 'I see you've had a good thrashing! Who did that?'

  'A girlfriend.'

  'Really? You are a naughty little girl! You'll have to introduce me to her. Now, reach behind your bum and pull your cunny lips wide apart.'

  Obediently complying, Marianne parted her fleshy vaginal lips, exposing the pinken entrance to her drenched sex-duct. Her arousal rising as the camera clicked and whirred, she stretched her sex-cushions further apart, revealing the inner walls of her pussy-sheath.

  'Just a couple more,' John murmured, taking another shot. 'And then we'll have you on your back across the table doing splits. The lads will love the pictures - they'll pay well to see close-up shots of a nice juicy cunt!'

  Taking the last shot, John moved closer to Marianne and lapped up the love-juice seeping from her vaginal entrance. 'You taste good,' he breathed appreciatively. 'I like the taste of a girl's cunt.' Her clitoris ripening as her master's tongue snaked between her swelling pussy lips, Marianne began to breathe heavily.

  But she desperately needed to be in control. Her arousal causing her naked body to quiver, she longed to turn the clock back and feign hypnosis rather than be a real slave to her abusers. What had started out as a joke, a laugh, she reflected, now turned into slavery.

  'I might fuck you in a minute,' John said as he stood up. 'Fuck you and spunk up your cunt. OK, get up and lie on your back across the table.' Taking her position, Marianne lay with her legs spread, her buttocks over the edge of the table, her swollen vaginal lips bared.

  Ordering Marianne to peel her cunny lips back as he took several close-ups of her intimacy, John finally placed his camera on the table. 'I need something... Ah, that's it,' he cried, grabbing the vacuum cleaner from the corner of the kitchen. Standing the upright cleaner on the floor between Marianne's legs, he parted her buttocks and presented the handle to her tight brown hole. 'This will sell the pictures,' he laughed, easing the thick plastic handle past her sphincter muscles. 'Just relax. I'm going to push the handle deep into your bum.'

  Her rectal sheath expanding as the handle drove deep into her bowels, Marianne felt her clitoris throb and her vagina spasm. The lewd pictures would fetch a good price, she knew. But would anyone recognize her? Many students from the university gathered in the park during their lunch break, someone was bound to recognize her!

  'You do look a sight,' John laughed as he stood back and gazed at the obscene spectacle. 'Well, that's one way to vacuum the floor!' Taking several photographs, he put the camera aside and unzipped his jeans. 'Might as well fuck you before I go,' he laughed, standing astride the vacuum cleaner and presenting his swollen glans to her vaginal opening. 'The vacuum cleaner handle up your bum, and my cock up your cunt. You are a lucky girl!'

  Marianne gasped as John's solid shaft drove deep into her tight vaginal sheath. Her rectum bloated, her sphincter muscles tightening around the phallus as her pussy inflated, she grinned inwardly. It's like having two cunts, she remembered herself thinking when Lydia had forced a huge vibrator deep into her bottom-hole. But she still hadn't realized her dream - two penises between her spread legs, driving deep into her tight holes, pumping their sperm into her shuddering body. And one in my mouth, she mused.

  'Having your bum shafted really tightens your cunt up,' John gasped as he drove his knob in and out of Marianne's wettening sex-duct. 'I'll have to bring a mate round. We'll fuck both your holes at once.'

  The words heightening Marianne's arousal, she squeezed her anal sphincter muscles, rhythmically gripping the plastic handle. Delicious sensations emanating from her abused anal canal, she whimpered as John pressed his thumbs into her fleshy vaginal lips, pushing them hard against her pubic bone he opened her sex valley, exposing her solid clitoris. 'Like being used, do you?' he asked, quickening his rhythm. 'Like having your tight holes fucked and your clitty massaged, do you?' Marianne didn't answer as John began rubbing her swollen cumbud. The sensations building deep in her quivering pelvis, she didn't want to speak. All she wanted was to wallow in her lewdness - her enforced lewdness.

  'God, I'm going to come!' John grimaced, ramming her with his ballooning cock-head. 'God, you're a bloody good fuck!' Sensing his sperm jetting deep into her vagina, Marianne opened her mouth, gasping as her own climax gripped her shuddering body, coursing through every nerve ending, tightening every muscle. 'You're a dirty little tart,' breathed, sliding his glistening, girl-wet shaft back and gazing at her inner lips rolling along the veined surface of his solid cock.

  Her orgasm receding
, gently lowering Marianne from the heights of sexual pleasure, she licked her dry lips, wondering what beautiful sexual act she'd be forced to endure next. Stilling his spent penis, John breathed heavily gazing at his slave's open crack, her inner lips enveloping his sperm-soaked shaft. He, too, was wondering what obscenity to commit, what to force his slave to do next.

  Slipping his flaccid organ from Marianne's trembling body, he steadied himself, leaning on the table, grinning at her tongue sensually snaking over her full lips. Moving around the table, he turned her head to face him. 'Suck me,' he ordered. 'Come on, lick my spunk and your cunt juice from my cock.'

  Taking his knob into her hot mouth, Marianne rolled her eyes, savouring the heady male-female flavour of sex. Pushing his length into her mouth, resting his knob at the back of her throat, John tweaked Marianne's nipples. 'We'll have to make use of these,' he said, pulling on her milk buds, stretching the sensitive brown tissue. 'When I come round tomorrow we'll have some real fun with your titties.'

  Rhythmically sucking on her master's swelling penis, Marianne wondered again where Barry had got to. Imagining him hiding in the bushes, gazing at his young girlfriend, the vacuum cleaner handle buried deep within her bowels, her yawning vaginal crack dripping with sperm, she wondered when he'd next use her.

  'OK, that's enough for now,' John said, slipping his penis from Marianne's mouth. Moving between her legs, he gently eased the vacuum cleaner handle from her bottom-hole, grinning as her muscles tightened, closing the entrance to her dank bowels. 'Now I think you'd better get dressed, Barry might walk in at any moment,' he said, standing the vacuum cleaner in the corner of the room and zipping his jeans.

  As Marianne dressed, covering her dripping pussy-crack with her tight red panties, John stopped her. 'I'll try something, seeing as Barry seems to have been successful with his hypnotic suggestion. Take your panties off. You'll never wear panties again, do you understand? Never will you wear panties from now on. Now, carry on dressing.'

  Slipping her wet panties down her long legs, Marianne finished dressing, wondering whether John's suggestion would work as well as Barry's had. Imagining her shaved pussy permanently naked beneath her short skirt, she wondered what she was becoming, what she was turning into.

  'Right, wake up,' he ordered, slipping her panties into his pocket as she finished dressing and stood obediently before him. 'I'd better get going. It doesn't look as if Barry's going come back,' John smiled.

  'OK,' Marianne replied, aware of sperm trickling down inner thighs. 'I'm off into town now. That's odd, where's the time gone?' she gasped, gazing up at the wall clock. 'It's far later than I thought it was.'

  'I didn't realize it was that late, either. Anyway, I'll see myself out. I might call round tomorrow, if that's OK?' he grinned as he turned in the doorway.

  'Yes, whenever. See you, John.'

  As the front door closed, Marianne took two sheets of kitchen roll and dabbed the sperm from her inner thighs. 'No panties,' she breathed, lifting her skirt and wiping her girl-crack. 'If these hypnotic suggestions carry on, I'll become someone else. I'll completely lose my identity.'

  As Barry wandered in through the back door, Marianne decided that he must have been hiding in the garden, watching her session of enforced sex. 'Where have you been?' she asked. 'John came round to see you and you'd disappeared.'

  'Sorry, I nipped out for something. I thought you were going into town?'

  'Yes, I'm just about to.'

  'You're not going out this evening, are you?'

  'Why?'

  'I've got some friends coming over. I thought it would be nice if you were here.'

  'When did you arrange that?'

  'A little while ago. You will be here, won't you?'

  'What, to serve you and your friends?'

  'Serve us?'

  'With tea and coffee, or beer.'

  'Oh, I see. No, no, I didn't mean that.'

  'I will be here, yes. Right, I'll see you later,' she said, grabbing her handbag.

  'OK. How long will you be?'

  'I don't know. I'm not going to time myself, Barry. I'll see you when I see you. Bye.'

  Walking down the street with a light breeze cooling her inflamed cuntal lips, Marianne thought again of the tartan minidress. Her pussy knickerless, she'd only have to sit with her thighs slightly parted or bend over a little and her femininity would be on display. The thought exciting her, causing her stomach to somersault, she decided she'd call into a coffee shop on her way back and inadvertently expose her girl-crack to an unsuspecting man. A man sitting with his wife, she thought wickedly.

  'Would you like to try it on?' the shop assistant asked, handing Marianne the dress.

  'Yes, thank you,' Marianne smiled.

  'I'm sure it's going to be too small for you. I could order your size, if you'd like me to?'

  'No, I think this will be just right, thanks anyway.' Taking the garment into a cubicle, Marianne slipped her skirt and top off. Holding the dress up and standing naked before the mirror, she grinned. 'It's going to be far too small for me,' she giggled. Slipping the dress over her head, she tugged it down her naked body, squeezing her hips, her breasts into the tight material. Finally managing to pull the zipper up her back, she gazed into the mirror again. Leaning backwards, her hairless pussy lips peered out between her thighs. Turning round, she leaned forward a little, gazing back at her swollen vaginal lips in the mirror. 'Perfect!' she breathed, grabbing her clothes and leaving the cubicle.

  As Marianne had expected, the men's heads did turn as walked down the street. Several wolf whistles came from a group of teenage boys across the road, and Marianne turned to look in a shop window, bending over slightly, exposing her buttocks, her girlishness to the boys' wide eyes. 'Look at that girl!' an elderly woman said to her friend as they passed. 'It's disgusting, going around like that!'

  Grinning, Marianne walked briskly down the street to the shop, praying there'd be someone she could sit opposite and shock. All this began as a joke, she reflected, wondering at the incredible change she'd been through. Even without hypnosis she was enjoying her body, and she began to wonder whether the constant sex had somehow re-educated her subconscious, woken her sleeping sexual desires. Virtually a nymphomaniac now, she was beginning to think of nothing other than sex. Her life focused between her legs, between her pouting vaginal lips.

  The coffee shop was fairly busy. Sitting at a window table, she scanned the pale faces - drawn housewives taking break from shopping, a young couple holding hands across the table, and a middle-aged man and his wife sitting in silence. Moving her chair, Marianne parted her thighs, knowing that the man would see her blatant exhibitionism beneath the table if he were to look in her direction. Ordering a coffee from the waitress, Marianne waited, her heart fluttering, her stomach somersaulting as she parted her thighs further, knowing that her pussy-crack was grinning at the man. He looked past his wife and gazed into Marianne's misty blue eyes as she proffered a slight smile. His eyes lowering, lighting up as he focused between her legs, he quickly averted his lustful gaze.

  Marianne sensed that she wasn't in control as she placed her hand between her legs and massaged her swelling clitoris with her fingertip. The man watching her blatant public masturbation from the corner of his eye, Marianne felt a rush of desire course through her contracting womb. Her eyes darting between the other customers, she opened her legs wider, peeling her shaved pussy lips back, exposing her pink inner flesh to her astounded spectator. I can't come in here, she thought as her clitoris responded to her gentle caress. God, what am I doing?

  Somehow her subconscious had been trained, her character altered. The sex she'd experienced with men and women, the bondage, the whipping, the incredible orgasms, had melted her sense of morality. But more, she was driven by a perpetual desire for sexual satisfaction, a wicked craving to shock. Even if she were to rid herself of the trigger word, the old Marianne was lost forever.

  Virtually unaware of anyone other tha
n her male voyeur, Marianne rested her elbow on the table, her eyes rolling as she massaged her clitoris faster. Her face serene, angelic, she closed her eyes as her orgasm rose from her feminine depths and exploded in her clitoris. Shuddering, her mouth open, gasping, she gazed at her voyeur through her lashes. Visibly stunned, he stared in disbelief at the blatant obscenity, the beautiful sight of a girl masturbating her clitoris to orgasm.

  Her bottom-hole void, yearning for a massive phallus, her vagina spasming, decanting its hot girl-come as Marianne sustained her climax with her vibrating fingertip, she wished she'd brought the Christmas candle with her. Next time, she decided as her orgasm waned, leaving her trembling. Lowering her head, trying to disguise her obvious pleasure as the waitress passed her table, Marianne slipped her finger into her drenched vagina.

  Her body calming now, she massaged her inner flesh, bringing out the last gentle waves of orgasm. Raising her head, she smiled at the dumbfounded man as she slipped her finger from her tight sex-duct and sucked it, savouring her girl-come, provocatively running her pink tongue over her lips.

  'May I borrow the sugar?' he asked as he walked over to her. Marianne smiled her affirmation as he took the sugar bowl and dropped his card on the table. He was fairly tall with brown, well-groomed hair. His suit, collar and tie gave him an air of professionalism. Clean-shaven, his face tanned, Marianne imagined him between her legs, his tongue snaking round her throbbing clitoris.

  Closing her legs, concealing her inflamed vaginal lips, her yawning girl-crack, she looked down at the card as he returned to his unsuspecting wife. Christopher Davies, accountant. Looking up, she grinned at her potential conquest and held her clenched fist to her ear, indicating that she'd ring him. As his wife turned to face her, Marianne sipped her coffee, innocently gazing at a painting on the wall above the woman's head.

  Her husband's penis would be stiff, bulging his trousers as he flashed Marianne a smile before his wife turned to face him. How easy, Marianne mused. How easy to take another woman's man. As the couple left, Marianne decided to take a stroll in the park. She'd ring Christopher Davies later. Give him a chance to return to his office and then call him, talk dirty to him, ask him what he thought of her cunt. He had no idea who she was, so she could say whatever she liked over the phone. Perhaps he'll wank while I'm talking to him, she thought as she paid for her coffee and left.