by S. E. Law
As a result, I don’t exercise. Well, I do, but now I stick to a few stretching routines in the privacy of my room. It works though. I’m reasonably toned in my belly and thighs, even if they’re still generous. Plus, the malnourished, stick-thin look has never appealed to me. I’ll take my big booty over a flat pancake ass any day.
But now, I have this delightful toy gifted to me by my dad, of all people. I shut the door to my room, although there’s no need since no one is home. Then, I open the box and pull out the egg and the remote. How does this work again? Oh right, there’s an instruction pamphlet.
I dig the brochure out of my pocket and stare at the crumpled piece of paper. Drat, these things are always written in such fine print that I have to squint at the directions. Blah, blah, blah, turn on your phone and download an app, blah. Okay, that’s easy enough. I reach for my phone and look up the manufacturer’s site. Then I download the app, and a green welcome screen greets me.
“Hello Sienna!” the words read. Wait a minute, how did the egg know my name? I figure it must be my dad’s doing.
The screen flickers to the next page, and my eyes track the words.
“Thank you for purchasing the Sexy Slave Wireless Egg. With this egg, you will be able to control your pleasure with just the touch of a button. No cords needed!”
Hmm, very interesting. I suppose wires might get in the way of some self-love, so wireless is an advantage. Impatiently, I click the rest of the way through the manufacturer’s installation program, and soon, I’m ready to go. In fact, I don’t even need the remote now that I have the app loaded on my phone. I’ll be able to control everything with just a few taps from my cell.
With a sly smile, I walk over to my bed and slip my shirt off my shoulders, revealing huge Double D breasts. Then I unzip my jeans and squeeze them off my hips so that I’m wearing nothing but tiny pink panties and a matching bra. I’m alone actually, so I might as well go for it. I disrobe entirely so that the bra and panties lie on the floor before climbing onto my bed. My pink and cream curves tremble with anticipation as I lie back.
Oooh, this is going to be fun. Experimentally, I slip the egg into my mouth, getting it warm and lubed up. It feels spongy, yet also solid at the same time. My tongue circles gently around the smooth orb, and I picture this going into my sweetest spot. It’ll feel good, that’s for certain.
Then leaning back, I raise my knees so that my feet come off the mattress. My pink slit is bared, and to my surprise, I’m already wet although I haven’t touched down there yet. Mmm, this is definitely a good gift because it’s such a turn-on. I’m going to have to thank Tyler the next time I see him.
Slowly, I reach down, and with tentative fingers, I press the egg against myself. It slips into my small hole easily, my pink lips encasing the tiny orb. It feels good and I moan musically, my eyes fluttering shut. I feel warm and stretched, and it’s about to get better.
With dazed eyes, my hand scrabbles for my phone. The app is already open, and with a lazy finger, I press the green “Go” button. Immediately, the egg begins to vibrate and I let out a delighted sigh. It’s only on low, so the rumble is soft and pleasing. My folds grow swollen from the stimulation as my nips harden.
I enjoy this setting for a few minutes, and then decide to up the ante. My fingers find my phone again, and I switch up the dial to medium. The vibrations in the egg increase and I let out another low, guttural groan. Oh god, it feels so good. My nips are tingling now, and my hard nub needs a good squeeze. I reach down and pinch it lightly, letting out another delighted cry. If the egg feels this good, how will a man feel when the time comes?
But right now, I only have my toy, so I decide to go for the maximum ride. My fingers swipe over my cell phone screen again, setting the egg on its strongest setting. It immediately responds, and the pulsing in my kitty is sensational. Hot tremors run through my sweetest spot, and I can feel my muscles tensing and lifting as I approach the peak. Ooooh! A melodious moan rings out as I squeeze my nips, corkscrewing off the tips. I reach down and begin rubbing myself, even as the egg pulses inside. It’s coming!
But then, just as I’m about to shatter, a low male voice fills the room. What? How did a man get in here? Immediately, I look around wildly, trying to identify the source, but it seems the voice is coming from my computer speakers. What? How is that happening?
But this isn’t just a random blast of radio transmission. Instead, the voice is low, deep and commanding.
“Slide a finger into your bottom, sweetheart,” it rasps. “We promise it will feel good.”
I scream then, soaring off the edge. My pussy pulses, juices squirting out to spray in a clear arc through the air. My unseen watchers let out delighted groans, moaning as they witness my ecstasy. But what’s happening? Who’s here with me, and whose voice is that?
50
Sienna
My vision blacks out as hot electrical pulses tear through my kitty.
“Unnnh!” I scream, my back arching with pleasure. Jolts of pleasure make my toes point and my tits are lifted to the ceiling, jiggling with rose-red tips. “Oh god!”
But the voice from my speakers doesn’t stop.
“Slide a finger in your bottom, honey,” it growls. “It’ll feel even better if you do that.”
I pant, trying to get my bearings. What’s going on? How can a mysterious voice be coming from my computer? Who is that?
“Who are you?” I demand. “What are you doing in my room! This is criminal trespass!”
Low chuckles come from the speaker, and a new male voice comes on.
“Sweetheart, trust me, this is going to fun. We’ll tell you who we are after you’re done, but just humor us for right now, okay? Slide a finger in that sweet bottom because I promise, it’ll feel good. Have you ever been double penetrated? This is your chance, Sienna.”
I jerk upright, my pink curves flushed.
“How do you know my name? Who set this up?”
The low chuckles come again.
“We know your name because we’ve been watching you for a while now, sweetheart. But please, just do as we say this first time okay? Now lie back, raise your knees again and keep going with the egg. Watching you slip it into yourself was the highlight of our day, baby girl, but we’re ready for some more action now.”
Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening. It sounds as if there are two men on the other side of the connection, and that they’re both watching me as if this is some kind of cam girl show. Except I’m not a cam girl, so where is the camera? I scan my room quickly, but there are no bugs. Of course there aren’t. Bugs these days are as big as a dust mote, so I’d never be able to see one with the naked eye.
But how are they able to see me then? Suddenly, I realize what it must be. My phone is linked to my computer in a number of different ways. It’s creepy, but ads I see on my phone often re-appear on my desktop, and it’s as if advertisers follow me from one device to another. It must be the Sexy Slave company. The app must have activated my computer as well, and now these strange men are telling me to touch myself.
“Go to hell,” I spit, even as my curves continue shuddering with pleasure. “You’re breaking the law.”
Again, low chuckles sound on the other side.
“We’d happily go to hell if it meant enjoying that delectable body of yours while we’re there,” one man rumbles. “You’re so gorgeous, baby. So big, beautiful, and bountiful, and that pink slit looks good stretched around the egg. Now humor us, okay? Just try it. Slide a finger into your bottom, and show us how it’s done.”
My eyes narrow. These men are out of control, and yet there’s something so titillating about their entreaties. What the hell. What do I have to lose? I’ll humor them just this once, and then call the cops. What’s another fifteen minutes? Hell, keeping them on the line is probably going to make it even easier for the police to track them.
Lying back, I shoot a smile at my computer monitor. The camera is embedded in the
corner of the screen, and that must be how they’re seeing me. They’ve probably co-opted every gadget in my room, of which there are a lot. It should freak me out, and it does, but at the same time, two can play at this game.
“Like this?” I coo softly, while lifting my knees into the air. “Is this what you want to see?”
I hear muffled grunts on the other end as my sweet pink slit comes into view. Then I lean back even more, rolling my hips forward so that my coffee pucker blinks at them. With teasing fingers, I reach down and pull my bottom cheeks apart, giving them a better look.
“Shit,” one man grunts.
“Fuck,” the other one hums throatily. “You’re so beautiful.”
I giggle as my décolletage bobbles. Being dirty like this is turning me on, and if we’re being honest, I love having an unseen audience. Smiling slyly again, I slip a finger into my mouth, getting it wet.
“That’s it,” one man groans.
“Fuck,” the other one pants. “Oh shit, it’s really happening.”
It is because I love being a bad girl. When you’re curvy like me, a lot of guys don’t even see you. I walk the halls of my high school, invisible except to a few turds who snuffle my way as if I’m easy pickings. But now, the tables are turned. I’m going to give these men a show that’s going to knock their socks off.
With another impish grin, I swipe my finger over the screen of my phone, and the egg starts up again. It hasn’t slipped out after all this time, and the pink toy begins vibrating once more.
“Oooh,” I moan, tilting my head back as my eyes drift shut. “Mmm, that feels amazing.”
The men groan in tandem on the other side.
“Hold yourself open for us, baby,” one entreats. “Let us see close-up what’s going on.”
My eyes flicker open and I cup my breasts for a moment, holding them out as if in offering. But them my hands slide down my torso, skimming over my tummy until they rest on either side of my labia. Slowly, I lift my knees and pull my nether lips open, showing them my pink insides. The walls are hot and swollen, steaming with moisture. Inside, you can see a bit of hot pink rubber, moving and shaking within my honeyed depths.
“Fuck,” the men bite out. “Oh shit.”
I merely giggle.
“But I thought this is what you wanted.”
“This is what we want,” they rasp hoarsely. “Now do the double.”
Cooing slightly, I wet my finger in my mouth again, and then reach around to toy with my pink wrinkle. The pleats contract when I touch them because to be honest, I haven’t done backdoor before. Not even with myself. But popping my cherry for these filthy, OTT alpha men? It turns me on and I can’t wait.
My finger niggles the wrinkle and the taboo sensation pulses through my back door. My kitty clamps hard in reaction as I play with the hole, slowly working it open.
“Oh yeah,” groans one man. “That asshole is so tight. It’s so young, and you’ve never had anything back there before, have you?”
“No never,” I coo breathlessly, still toying with it a bit. “My first time is going to be with you.”
With that, I spread my knees wider and slowly begin inching my finger in. It feels strange but also insanely tantalizing. My bottom clenches with surprise, but I force myself to take deep breaths and relax. My cheeks release a bit, and I’m able to slide my finger right up my sphincter. The ring pulses hard on my digit and my eyes fly open with surprise.
“Oh my god,” I pant. “Unnnh.”
“Fuck yeah, baby,” says one man. “Can you feel the egg through your kitty wall?”
I nod breathlessly.
“This is so wrong.”
“It is,” confirms the other alpha male. “But that’s why you like it. You like being filthy with us, don’t you? Filthy and nasty because you’re daddy’s little doll.”
I moan again, the vibrations of the egg shaking against my finger. Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening. I literally have a finger up my butt with a toy in my kitty and my legs spread for these strange men to see. What have I become?
But the truth is that I love it. I adore being saucy and sassy, and if anything, I pull my bottom wider with one hand so that the men can get a close-up as my body begins to peak.
“Ohhh,” is my guttural moan. “Unnnh.”
“That’s it,” growl the men. For the first time, I can hear some wet slapping sounds, and I assume they must be beating themselves off. The image of two huge, hardened alpha males fisting themselves while staring at my nubile form drives me over the edge, and my back straightens suddenly as climax arrives.
“Ohhh!” is my delighted cry. “Fuck!”
Hot spasms jolt through my sweetest spot as my back ring clamps down on my finger, almost breaking it. My tits tremble and bobble, and my eyes roll up into the back of my head as pure ecstasy courses through me.
“Unnnh—”
But then all goes dark as I suffer the little death. I genuinely pass out for a moment, unable to breathe or think while in this new state of mind.
When I come to, my finger’s slipped out of my back hole and the two voices on the speakers are urgent.
“Sienna,” they say. “Come back to us baby. You did great. Come back to us.”
Dazed, I lift my head from the mattress, totally spent and drained.
“Goodness,” is my murmur. One arm stretches for my phone and I turn off the vibrating egg. Unfortunately, I still don’t have enough energy to pop it out of myself, so it sits snug between my folds, a pleasant little orb of energy. When I look between my legs, there’s a huge wet stain on the coverlet, but I’m so wrung out with pleasure that I can’t even be bothered to care. Instead, my head flops back again, peachy curves still heaving with satiation.
“You did great,” a low male rasp sounds in the room. “We were so worried about you when you passed out like that.”
“Yes,” agrees the other voice. “Which means that the next time this happens, we want to be in the room with you, Sienna. We want to kiss you, stroke you, and take you to the highest heights before watching you shudder and scream our names. Then, we’ll be there as you come down as well, sweet girl, making sure you re-surface gently as it all recedes.”
I sigh, my head still murky.
“But that would mean that you’re going to reveal yourselves,” I say in a sweet tone. “Am I going to meet you in real life?”
Two chuckles sound out again.
“Absolutely baby girl, because we’re right around the corner from you. We’re Jock and Jack Larson. You know, Layla’s dad and uncle.”
I jerk upright then, my eyes flying open and every part of me alert. Oh my god, I just did a cam show for my friend’s dad and uncle? Ohmygod, Layla’s going to kill me if she finds out!
But Jock and Jack are gorgeous. They’re six three each with charming smiles, flashing blue eyes, and physiques made of carved wood. Just like my dad, they’re also long-haul truckers who work out non-stop to keep fit for their job.
And I just did this with them? Suddenly, my world just got a lot spicier.
51
Jock
“Are you ready for this?” I ask my brother. The two of us are at a café, waiting for Sienna to arrive.
It’s wrong. We shouldn’t be here, and neither should she. But Dads and Daughters is something that we enjoy, and Sienna is our latest prize.
“I’m ready,” my brother growls, idly tapping the tabletop with one bronzed finger. “The question is, will she show? You have to admit that our little cam girl was surprised when we started talking to her.”
That’s true because we initiated Sienna in a roundabout way. Dads and Daughters is usually more straightforward. When a daughter turns eighteen, she’s taken by one of the dads and shown the ways of the world. He makes sure she enjoys herself, and she’s taken care of by an older man who knows what he’s doing, as opposed to some nerdy, acne-ridden teenage boy who prematurely spurts at exactly the wrong time.
But Jack and I have been waiting a long time for Sienna. It all started a few years ago when her dad, Tyler, began dating my daughter Layla. It was pre-arranged, sort of. Layla turned eighteen, and Tyler was her “initiator,” so to say. He and Layla had a steamy first time together, and I was appreciative of his efforts.
But something sparked in the air between Layla and Tyler, and they’ve been in an exclusive relationship ever since. It was unexpected because most dads and daughters don’t get into relationships. It’s more of a transient thing, seeing that we’re long-haul truckers. A trucker pulls into a stop, and then a sweet, nubile daughter spends the night with him so that he gets relief before heading out on the road again.
I’m not saying that relationships never happen. In fact, many dads and daughters have pre-arranged meet-ups every time the dad pulls into the daughter’s city. For example, a couple years back there was a sweet little thing named Cindy in Milwaukee. Every time I was in Milwaukee, Cindy came out to greet me and we tore up the sheets in the cab of my truck.
But it wasn’t anything permanent, nor exclusive. I knew that Cindy was meeting up with other dads when they pulled into Milwaukee, and I wasn’t bothered by it. It’s just how the system works. Anyways, I stopped seeing Cindy about two years ago because she fell in love with a man her own age, and got married. Word on the street is that Cindy is expecting her first child, and I’m happy for her. Our relationship was never anything permanent. It was my job to teach her about the world of men, and I rest easy knowing that Cindy enjoyed herself; learned about her body; and is now well on her way to becoming a mother.
But my daughter’s situation with Tyler was different because they hit it off and everything else receded into the background. Layla was going to go to college, but she decided to stay here, in our little town to be available whenever Tyler came home. She even moved into her own apartment so that Tyler could come over and be as loud as he wanted. I’m under no illusion what they’re doing. Tyler is a hardened alpha male, and he was giving it to my daughter every which way until Sunday.