Enslaved

by Ray Gordon

  The men gasping, Marianne felt their cocks swell. 'Both at once,' she ordered her slaves. 'Both spunk up my arse at once.' Their cock-heads ballooning, their sperm jetting deep into Marianne's bowels, she writhed and whimpered as her clitoris exploded in orgasm. 'Coming!' she wailed, reaching between her full vaginal lips and massaging the pleasure from her sex-nodule. 'Fuck... fuck me!' she wailed, as her entire body shook violently. 'Ah, my beautiful arse!'

  As John's thrusting penis slowed, Marianne slowed her own massaging rhythm, eliciting the last ripples of orgasm from her inflamed clitoris. Collapsing over Barry, she rested her perspiring body, her rectal sheath tightly gripping the spent male organs, soaking up the swirling sperm. 'John, slowly, very slowly, slip your cock out of my bum,' she breathed huskily. Her rear love-sheath gently deflating, she breathed heavily, her body jolting as the knob slipped out and her brown ring closed around Barry's penile shaft.

  'God, we must do this again,' she cried as she gently moved forward, sliding Barry's shrinking penis from her inflamed bottom-tube. 'Ah, ah! Ah, God!' she cried as her ring closed, sealing in the creamy products of two male orgasms. Crawling off Barry, she lay on her back, her eyes rolling, her body trembling. 'God, I've never... I've never had such a good fuck in all my life!'

  Rolling onto her stomach and spreading her thighs, she ordered Natalie to lie on the floor between her legs and suck the sperm from her bottom-hole. Complying, Natalie parted Marianne's taut bum cheeks and closed her full lips around the girl's abused hole. Sucking, her tongue probing, she drew out the sperm, swallowing the nectar, cleansing her mistress's anal sheath.

  Her eyes rolling again as the incredible pleasure spread throughout her quivering body, Marianne knew that her insatiable holes, her clitoris, would never bring her enough satisfaction. She wanted more and more depraved sex - more penises, more sperm, more cunts, more girl-juice. 'You two get dressed,' she ordered Barry and John as her body shuddered at the thought of three penises thrusting into her anal sheath. 'We'll all do this again, and you, Natalie - you're going to experience a double bum-fuck the next time we're all together. Ah, that's good. You've got a nice tongue.'

  The anal cleansing finished, Marianne rolled onto her back and instructed Natalie to dress. 'Leave your knickers off,' she giggled. 'I want you to kneel over my face in a minute. I'm going to lick your cunt to orgasm.' The men fully clothed, Marianne ordered them to sit on the sofa and watch Natalie's lesbian oral coupling. 'By the way, John, you can pay for the sex you've had. Take all the money you have and stuff it beneath the sofa,' she laughed, watching as he took at least three twenty-pound notes from his wallet. 'That'll do nicely. Now, Natalie, bring me your sweet cunt - I want to drink from your beautiful cunny-hole.'

  Positioning her gaping vaginal crack above Marianne's face, Natalie lowered the centre of her body, settling her girlhood over her mistress's thirsty mouth. 'Mmm,' Marianne moaned as she pushed her tongue into the girl's hot vagina and savoured her girl-come. 'You taste good!' Rocking her hips, Natalie began her gasping, her clitoris swelling as Marianne's tongue lapped up her slippery honeydew.

  Her body shuddering, Natalie leaned back, placing her arms behind her and supporting her weight on her hands. Her sex-groove opening as she threw her head back, she opened her mouth, her eyes closing as she slipped deeper into a swirling pool of pure sexual ecstasy. 'Coming,' she whispered softly. 'Coming, coming.' The words of sex falling from her pretty lips, she gently rocked her body, delighting in the sensations emanating from her ripening clitoris.

  Suddenly singing out her appreciation as her climax gripped her, she ground her open cunt hard into Marianne's hot mouth. Her slippery cunt milk decanting, flowing from her spasming pussy-hole, she lost herself in her sexual delirium. She's going to be another regular visitor, Marianne decided as she drank from the girl's gushing cunt. There were going to be many regular visitors - both male and female!

  As Natalie's orgasm began to subside, Marianne thought about Barry. If she could erase the real trigger word from his memory she'd have complete control. John also knew the word, and the girls - but Barry was the real problem. If she couldn't erase the word, she'd leave him and set herself up in a flat, she decided as Natalie collapsed to the floor, her cunt spewing out its come, her clitoris done - until the next time.

  Rising to her feet, Marianne slipped into her dress and ordered John to go and wait by the front door. 'Put your knickers on, Natalie,' she said, tossing the garment to the girl. Hiding the baby lotion, she seated Barry and checked the room for evidence of her debauched group sex session. 'Right, Barry, you will wake up when you hear the front doorbell ring,' she said, leading Natalie into the hall.

  'When you hear the words, "Time for sex", you'll both fall into a hypnotic trance,' Marianne said. 'Do you both understand?'

  'Yes,' John replied.

  'I understand,' Natalie said.

  'Good. Natalie, you'll wake up when you get to your front door. And you'll remember nothing other than the trigger words, time for sex.'

  Opening the door, Marianne waited until Natalie had gone before ringing the bell and ordering John to return to his waking state. 'Come through, John,' she invited, closing the front door. 'Barry's in the lounge.'

  'Thanks,' he smiled, following Marianne. 'Hi, Barry!'

  'Hi, John. How are you?' Barry greeted.

  'I'm fine,' he replied, obviously recalling nothing of the double anal fucking.

  'I'm going upstairs for a while,' Marianne said, all too aware of sperm oozing from her inflamed bottom-hole. 'I'll leave you two to have a chat.'

  Closing the lounge door behind her, Marianne made her way up to the bedroom and laid her aching body on the bed.

  'God, quite a day, so far!' she giggled. 'What the hell will the rest of the day bring?' As she contemplated her new-found life, her sexuality, she thought again of what she'd become. A fully-fledged slag, she laughed inwardly, grabbing the bedside phone and asking the operator for Christopher Davies's number. Punching the buttons, she decided to tell him that she'd had two cocks up her bum, sperming up her bum. That'll turn him on, she mused as a woman answered the phone.

  'Hi, is Christopher there, please?' she asked.

  'No, he's out - can I take a message?' the woman replied.

  'Are you his wife?'

  'Yes, I am.'

  'Oh, I see. I was going to tell Chris that I've just had two cocks up my bum at once, both sperming into my arse,' Marianne giggled.

  'I beg your pardon? Who is this?'

  'I'm Chris's girlfriend, his slag on the side - his bit of skirt. I'm the one who gives him great blow jobs and lets him fuck my arse. Poor Chris, it's a shame you're such a prude. Wouldn't you like him to fuck your arse?'

  'You're sick!'

  'No, I'm just heavily into sex. Tell him I rang, will you - my name's Sarah. Bye!'

  Replacing the receiver, Marianne felt more wicked than ever. 'I feel great!' she giggled. 'Right, a couple of hours' sleep, and then it's back to my life of beautifully perverted sex!'

  Chapter Twelve

  Barry and John had disappeared by the time Marianne had hauled her aching body from the bed and staggered downstairs. Wondering where they were, what they were up to, she called next door to see how Natalie was feeling after her sex session.

  'Oh, Marianne - come in,' the girl invited as she opened the front door.

  Is Barry's sperm oozing from her bum-hole? Marianne wondered. 'I thought I'd come and see how you are,' she smiled, wondering whether Natalie had realized that she'd walked into her house, before mysteriously finding herself home - a hell of a long time later.

  'Ian's gone, thank God. The bastard's gone,' Natalie announced bitterly. 'I realize now that I don't need him. I've the house, and he's got my dopey sister, so I suppose we're all happy.'

  'It's funny how things turn out, isn't it?'

  'It certainly is. Come into the lounge and have a glass wine. By the way, what happened when I came round to see you earlier? I remem
ber going into your kitchen, and then...'

  'And then you went home again,' Marianne replied, closing the front door behind her and following Natalie into the lounge. 'You were so distressed over Ian that I don't think you knew what you were doing.'

  'I was rather upset. But I've come to the conclusion I'm better off on my own. I don't need Ian - or anyone for that matter.'

  Temptation rears its beautiful head! Gazing at the long legs, her miniskirt, Marianne imagined her hot pussy, her secret - or not so secret - garden. Recalling Natalie kneeling astride her head, she quivered. The girl had tasted nice, she reflected, picturing her open sex-folds, her erect clitoris throbbing in orgasm. God, I want her again!

  'I'm leaving Barry,' Marianne confided, wondering whether Natalie would suggest that she move in with her and they live together as lesbians.

  'Leaving him? I've heard that one before!' Natalie quipped.

  'Yes, I know - but this time, I mean it. All this hypnosis stuff has... I've come to the same conclusion as you - I don't need him. I haven't told him yet, but I'm going to get myself a nice little flat. I've had a brilliant job offer with a company car - a Mercedes, would you believe?'

  'That sounds all right!'

  'Yes, and the money'll be pretty good, too.'

  'But the house... You own it jointly with Barry, don't you?'

  'Yes, but there's no way Barry would sign his half over to... Wait a minute, there is a way.'

  'How?'

  'I'll tell you later, Nat. I must dash, I'll tell you later. This evening, come round this evening!'

  Dashing from the house in her excitement, Marianne grinned. Ringing the building society she spoke to the manager, explaining that Barry was leaving her and that he wanted to sign his half of the house over to her.

  'If you're to take on the mortgage alone, we'll need your employer's references and a statement of your earnings,' the pompous man returned.

  'That's no problem. My employer will be only too happy to do that.' Jonathan Brooke-Smith will be only too eager to help me!

  'In that case, if you give me the details of your employer, I'll start the ball rolling as soon as possible.'

  Ringing Brooke-Smith, Marianne explained her predicament. 'You see, Jonathan, Barry and I are splitting up, and he's going to sign his half of the house over to me. I need a reference and a statement of my earnings.'

  'No problem. I'll write you a glowing reference. The thing is, when are you going to come and work for me?'

  'I'll start next week, OK?'

  'Fine! Nine o'clock on Monday morning, all right?'

  'I'll be there, Jonathan.'

  'And so will your car. See you on Monday, Marianne.'

  'Great. And thanks - I owe you one!'

  'Do you now? I'll look forward to that.'

  'Er... yes, well, until Monday. Bye.'

  Searching Barry's bureau, Marianne came across his bank statement. 'God!' she breathed aloud. 'Where the hell did he get all that money from? Twenty grand!' Hearing the front door open, she closed the bureau and hurriedly left the dining room. 'Hi, Barry!' she smiled, meeting him in the hall. 'Where have you been?'

  'I went out with John,' he replied. 'Jux—'

  'Time for sex!' Marianne interrupted before Barry could say the word.

  Again he fell into a strange hypnotic trance. 'This is getting easier,' Marianne giggled, leading him into the lounge. 'Now, Barry, where did you get the twenty-odd grand from that's in your bank account?'

  'I've been stashing it away for years. A lot of it was left to me by my aunt.'

  'Well, you're now going to write me a cheque - for the full amount. Go and get your cheque book.'

  Returning from the bureau, Barry meekly penned a cheque out to Marianne. 'You'll never wonder why you did this, do you understand?'

  'Yes, I understand.'

  'You'll always think of it as a gift, a present you decided to give me. Also, you're going to sign the house over to me. And lastly, will you please forget the word ''juxtaposition"?'

  'Yes, I will.'

  'You've never heard of the word, Barry. When you want to hypnotize me, you'll use the trigger word "delta", have you got that?'

  'Yes, I have.'

  'Good. Now, go and put your cheque book back and then come and sit down,' Marianne instructed, slipping the cheque behind the mantlepiece clock.

  Returning to the lounge, Barry sat down, gazing around the room in bewilderment as Marianne ordered him to wake up. 'So, what are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?' she asked casually. 'And when are you going to start earning some money from your consultancy business or whatever it is?'

  'In about half an hour,' Barry laughed. 'I've a friend coming round to... well, I won't go into the details. Juxtaposition!'

  How the hell do I make him forget that bloody word? Marianne wondered angrily as she slipped into a hypnotic trance. How the hell do I do it? Things would be completely different if only Barry were to forget the real trigger word. But would that ever happen? She very much doubted it!

  'OK, Marianne - follow me to the garage. You're going in the pillory, my girl. There'll be another fifty quid in my pocket when Dave gets here. Come on, take your dress off and follow me.'

  Pulling her dress over her head, Marianne recalled Dave, the pervert who'd staked her naked body to the lawn and used her to satisfy his insatiable thirst for lust. If only she was in control! But, hypnotized or not, what control would she have when trapped in the pillory? she wondered as she dropped her dress to the floor and followed her master. As they entered the garage, Marianne gazed at the pillory - and the whip and canes. Wishing she'd breathed her word and ordered Barry to cancel the arrangement, her clitoris throbbed in expectation.

  'Come over here and get on all fours over this plank,' Barry ordered harshly, lifting the top section of the pillory away. 'That's it, rest your neck and wrists in the cut-outs and I'll drop this back into place, like this - and you're now my prisoner,' he laughed. Her buttocks projecting, her cunny lips exposed beneath her yawning bottom-crease, Barry moved her knees further apart, tying ropes around her calves and fixing the ends to the frame to secure the degrading position. 'And now for your tits, you dirty little whore,' he chuckled, clamping metal clips to her nipples. Hanging heavy weights from the clips, he gazed at her firm breasts, painfully stretched into taut cones of flesh. 'Dave will like that! He's a right perve!'

  And so are you, Marianne reflected, grimacing as the clips bit into her hardening nipples. Come to that, so am I! Again, Barry's cruel words reflected his inner self, the real Barry - Barry the bastard. With no respect, no thought for his girlfriend, his only concern was making money from pimping. 'The lads are coming over again this evening to use you,' he laughed, slapping her buttocks, causing her naked body to jolt. 'They're coming over to fuck you, to use you as the dirty little whore you are!'

  Moving to the shelf, Barry opened the video camera to remove the cassette. Frowning, he gazed at the empty compartment. 'That's odd,' he breathed. 'I don't remember taking it out.' What with the missing money, and now the cassette, he was becoming suspicious, Marianne knew. Hopefully, as far as the massive cheque was concerned, her hypnotic suggestion would work. But he was bound to think it strange that he'd given her all his money, she thought.

  'I don't understand it,' Barry sighed as he placed the camera on the shelf. 'Marianne, do you know where the cassette is?'

  'No,' she said softly.

  'Something weird is going on. The money, and now the bloody tape. Something's going on!'

  As Barry left the garage, Marianne tried to make herself comfortable. Her neck and wrists clamped, her stomach resting on the padded plank, her legs bound with rope, she could barely move. God, my tits hurt, she cursed inwardly as the weights swung, pulling on her sensitive nipples. Hearing voices, she wondered what Dave had in mind, what perverted act he'd planned to commit on her tethered, naked body.

  'There's the little bitch,' Barry bellowed as he showed Dave into
the garage. 'I'll be in the house if you need me - not that you will.'

  'I've got all I need here, thanks,' Dave laughed, eyeing Marianne's exposed bottom-hole, her ripe vaginal lips.

  'Right, give her a good seeing-to, and a fucking good thrashing!' Barry laughed.

  'This is incredible! I mean, just look at the state of her. Christ, I wish I had a girlfriend like her!'

  'The other evening I brought five friends round and they all fucked her arse.'

  'What, one after the other?'

  'Yes. The little tart's going to earn me a small fortune!'

  'It seems strange, using your girlfriend like this. Don't you feel anything for her?' Dave asked.

  'No, nothing. I used to but... well, I met someone else. Not that she's around any more. What Marianne and I have is a business relationship - and one that works very well. Anyway, enjoy yourself!'

  Alone with Dave, Marianne pondered on Barry's words. Just a whore. When she'd started messing about with her word, she'd thought his darker side was more or less normal - his male desires unleashed. But now? She'd discovered another side to herself, she reflected. Her insatiable craving for debased sex, her unquenchable thirst for anal sex... But Barry had more than a mere craving for sex - he was evil!

  'You've a beautiful body, Marianne,' Dave enthused. 'As I the last time I was here, if you were my girlfriend, I wouldn't sell you for... still, it's none of my business. I suppose Barry's right, you're just a whore. I'll never forget discovering that fucking great candle stuffed up your cunt. Anyway, I've paid Barry fifty pounds for you, so I want my money's worth. You benefit from the cash he's earning from you, so what the hell?'

  I've got all the money, Marianne reflected smugly as Dave knelt behind her and parted her taut bottom-orbs. But if only I had control! Once the house had been signed over to her, she'd chuck Barry out. She'd use her trigger word and order him to go and rent a flat - and never come back. I could keep him on as my housekeeper! But, she reflected, there would be little point in throwing him out so long as he retained his power over her.