Macho Sluts (41 page)

They perched her on the toilet and stood close, cocks out, helping each other into condoms, while torrents of water rushed out of her ass. “God, you stink,” Don growled, and shoved his dick into her mouth. They fucked her face while she shat again and again, and kept fucking her mouth long after the cramps had subsided. Then the process was repeated—more water, a tongue-bath for Joe's and Mike's shoes, another session on the throne and choking on their sheathed dicks, one after another, as fast as they could pull her mouth down onto one, off of it, and onto another. Would she ever be able to close her mouth and swallow again?

Finally, when her insides had been pronounced squeaky-clean, they removed the hospital restraints and shoved her under the shower. While two of them guarded her under the water, one would disrobe. Joe and Mike put on jockstraps, police boots, and their gun belts. Don removed his shirt and trousers, then replaced his Sam Browne belt and boots. His jock was made out of studded leather. He kept the belt he had removed earlier from his motorcycle jacket in his hand. Watching this transformation, she shuddered with lust, turning in the hot water, wishing there were some way to avoid this confrontation with her fantasies, and deeply glad that there was no escape.

Their nearly-naked bodies were alien to her. Their hips were too flat, shoulders too broad, nipples too small and flat, their muscles came in long plates, and they were covered with fur everywhere. Don's auburn fuzz contrasted pleasantly with Mike's blond, almost-invisible hair and Joe's abundant black bear fur. Their asses were square, narrow. They even smelled strange—had a tang about them that women did not.

The water was turned off, Joe and Mike grabbed her, and under Don's orders they carried her over to the bed. She was still dripping wet, so they rolled her back and forth on the sheet, then both of them began to lick her, removing the moisture from her skin with their tongues. Almost shyly, their mouths covered her breasts and sucked up her nipples, their tongues strayed into her armpits and down her sides, penetrated her mouth and caressed her thighs.

“How does she taste?” Don demanded. “You two queer bastards ever done anything like this with a girl before?”

They both denied it.

“Well, dive in, assholes. Lick her everywhere. I'd love to see your queer faces buried in that snatch, but I'm afraid y'all might acquire a taste for it. So you just use your fingers, you hear? And keep 'em on the outside. No finger-banging. Just juice her up. It's a pity, 'cause you boys could really learn how to muff-dive from our friend here. I bet she knows how to suck pussy real good, don't you, sweetheart?”

She admitted it, barely coherent, driven out of her mind by the tongues lapping all over her body and the fingers that spread lubrication up and down, again and again, from her clit to her asshole, but kept her empty, driving her to produce more and more fluid. She could feel the shape of her own internal sex-parts, knew how deep her vagina went and the angle it took, by the way it ached to be pushed open and stroked. But she was not allowed to direct or guide what was happening in any way. Joe continued to tongue and massage her, but Mike let her hands go long enough to remove his jock. When he returned, his balls drooped in her face.

“Swallow his nuts,” Don ordered her. “I see you trying to lick his balls. You—stuff 'em in her mouth. Sit on her face.”

Mike, still angry about having been ordered to the floor beside her, was only too happy to oblige. Disregarding his own comfort, he crammed his entire ballsac into her mouth. She retaliated by sucking hard on his eggs, then clamping her lips tightly around them and running her tongue and her teeth across the taut skin of his scrotum. He must not have minded too much because he pulled away from her enough to stretch his sac even more and began to play with himself, dripping sweat and pre-cum onto her breasts.

Joe was lying on his stomach between her legs, his fingers busy, licking her thighs. She could tell that he really wanted to go ahead and put his tongue there, in that forbidden groove, but was afraid of Don's wrath. Nevertheless, he was slipping a finger or two into her occasionally, despite the strict prohibition against this misbehavior. Her lips swelled, parted, and became incredibly slippery. When Don spoke, they both jumped.

“You like the way that smells?” Don sneered. Joe didn't even turn around.

“It smells like sex, sir,” he said softly.

Don ignored that response and ordered his subordinates to jack off enough to keep their dicks hard. “I want to be able to look over there and see you enjoying yourselves,” he said.

Then Joe began to really get the idea of how a clit worked and started to do something that felt like it would make her come, if only it didn't change or stop. He had the tip of his little finger resting at her ass, the pad of his middle finger resting over the opening of her vagina, and held her clit between his thumb and index finger, barely moving it inside the hood. She lost track of what she was doing with her mouth. Mike lifted his ass to prevent his balls from getting mauled and pinned her hands down hard. God, that made it feel even better! Joe's fingers worked like some secret passion, and her cunt opened up like a wanton flower. He was resting his face on her thigh, and his beard scraped her delicate skin, inflaming it. She began to cry and toss on the bed.

“Don't make her come!” Don said sharply. What a completely hateful man. “I don't want her to come unless she's got something up one of her holes. You boys ever fucked any snatch?”

Mike drawled, “Oh, yeah, a time or two. I prefer BJs to busting cherries, myself.” Why did she have a feeling that he was lying?

“Once. It wasn't a hell of a lot of fun,” Joe said. “By the time I got it in I was so hot from carrying on and fighting about it that I came on her leg. She was pretty pissed about that.”

“Well, you're going to fuck one now. This one. Both of you. I don't want any excuses, and I don't want any piss-poor performances. This isn't the back seat of your daddy's car, and you ain't in high school any more. Maybe it will help if you don't think of her as a girl. After all, she doesn't want to be a woman. She wants to be a man. She dresses like one, talks like one, walks like on. She's a queer, like you boys. Queers have sex with other queers, right? So who wants to go first?”

Joe, already kneeling between her legs, said, “Yo, sir. I sure would like to fuck her butt.”

“I don't give a shit what you want. You can stick it in the hole I give you, or you can beat off in the corner. Mike, hold her down real good.”

Joe hauled her closer to the foot of the bed. He bent her legs until her feet were in the air, then began to rub his hard cock over her wet, crumpled inner lips. For a few minutes, he fucked the outside of her pussy, where the swollen outer lips made a nice, snug channel for him. After awhile, she understood that he was teasing her, and that he wanted her to struggle to get his cock. Well, why not? She had never felt emptier. Her beaten ass was burning, urging her on. “Please,” she moaned, writhing under him. “Please put it in me.”

“You sure?” he teased, taking another condom from Don.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Come and get it,” he grunted, hunching his hips. His dick head stroked her clit.

Pinned under him, she had almost no mobility, but she made whatever motions with her hips she could, trying to find his cock and impale herself on it. Meanwhile, Mike was holding down her hands, and she knew from the beads of sex juice that kept falling on her cheeks and forehead that he was enjoying what he saw. Don said, “We better slow you down, mister,” and shoved a skin into his hand. Once again, Mike gave her an evil look of resentment. I wonder if he just hates me because I get to be the bottom, she thought. But there was too much good stuff going on below her waist to worry about the sulky redneck who was getting a fresh (and mumbling) grip on her wrists after taking the pause that protects.

“You want it?” Joe demanded. “Here, feel how big it is.” He thrust the head of his thick cock against her hole, not inserting it, but stretching the membrane taut. “It's going to fill you right up. Sure you can take it? Huh?”

“Yesssssss!”

An inch at a time, he teased her sheath down over his head and shaft. He was right—she felt stretched wide open. And then he began to move! Her eyes rolled back in her head, Mike started jabbing his cockhead between her lips, and her tongue flickered out to service him. Her head was turned sideways to accommodate him, and even shallow penetration put tremendous strain on her neck and shoulders. She sucked him as long as she could before Joe's pounding hips became too insistent and she again lost control over her mouth. “I'm afraid I'm going to bite you,” she mumbled, and he hastened to pull out.

Her own experience with straight sex had been as unsatisfying as Mike and Joe's. But this act of penetration was firmly situated within a context of dominance and submission—the core of her eroticism. She had been brought to a point where there was nothing she craved more. There could be no self-deception, no lies about not really wanting it. And these men were incredibly good at what they did. They liked fucking and being fucked, they knew how to do it, and they wanted her to like it. The element of mutual homosexuality made it seem more perverse, yet safe.

Joe churned inside her, speeding his rhythm. She tried to spread her legs wider, to open her hole a little more, but he kept them clamped down, apparently preferring to fuck her tight, to feel the maximum resistance to his bulk. “Do you want it?” he panted. “Do you want me to come?”

“Yes!” she snarled, and worked with him to make it happen. He pushed especially deep inside her, jabbed her sharp and fast, his hands dug painfully into her ass cheeks, his thigh muscles went rigid. She could swear she actually felt the bulb of his dickhead swell, and knew by his convulsive hip movements that he had come.

“Very nice,” Don said sarcastically. Oh, God. He had seen everything. She flushed and tried to hide her face against Mike's thigh. He shook her off, refusing to help. Joe had disappeared, probably gone off to take a leak, and Don was probing between her legs. “Did you come?” he asked her, leather-clad fingers moving where Joe had been.

“I don't think I care about coming any more,” she said, evasively but quite truthfully. “It all feels so good I don't want to come. I'm just afraid it will stop.”

“Stop?” His head jerked erect. “We're just getting started. Number two!” He snapped his fingers, and Mike released her hands.

“Sir,” Mike said, “can I tie this bitch up and put some clamps on her tits?”

Don thought about it. “I don't see why not. It'll make it more fun to watch. But if you don't throw a really good fuck into her after that, I'm going to be real disappointed in you.”

Mike froze at his master's voice. “No, you won't be disappointed, sir,” he said. “I really want to fuck this cunt until she screams. Something about her just brings it out in me. But I need to have her hurt while I'm doing it. And I need to have her tied up so she can't get away. You want her to come, don't you? Well, I suspect that'll make her come real good.”

“Oh? Yeah, you're probably right. She's just a slut, but she's a masochistic slut. Fix her the way you want her.”

She was too tired to fight. Mike rolled her onto her stomach and slapped leather restraints on each wrist, then manacled her hands to the iron rails at the head of the bed. He also fastened restraints around each ankle, had her draw her legs up until she was kneeling, then fastened them at the sides of the bed. Then he reached under her and clamped her nipples into gleaming silver jaws. If she didn't keep her ass in the air and her shoulders arched, she would be lying on the clamps.

He knelt behind her and ran his hands over her body once, twice. Then he used his nails. She twisted, but could not get away from him or close her legs. Every time she moved, she brought her slippery, vulnerable folds into contact with his jutting cock. He leaned over her and played with her tits, sending jolts of pain through her nipples, made her tell him how much it hurt and how wet it made her cunt. He slapped her ass with the flat of his hand until it began to glow and burn again. His hand fell with more and more weight. Bottoms, she thought, are so much meaner than tops. They have no sense of pacing. She screamed as much because he was making her angry as because it hurt a lot, but she doubted that he cared as long as he knew he was hurting her.

Unlike Joe, he went into her in one vicious thrust, and she screamed. Tears sprang into her eyes. His long, skinny cock was stretching her in a very different way. It was much easier for her cunt to open wider than it was for it to become deeper. He was not waiting for her to open up, and she would be damned if she would ask him.

She did not want to come with him. Her vagina was a little sore, but his attitude bothered her more. Joe was an earthy little bull who could probably fuck anything that walked, but this southern redneck was in her only because Don told him to do it, and he was determined to make her pay for the humiliation Don had inflicted upon him in front of her. Nevertheless, when he reached underneath her and began to fondle her clitoris while his penis moved in and out of her hole, she almost started to spasm. Her sexual flesh was so congested that what happened to it mattered a great deal more than what went on in her head.

Don, that bastard, noticed, and moved in closer to watch. “You almost got her,” he said. “Honey, wouldn't it be humiliating if we got you to like dick so much you just couldn't do without it? Just imagine, hunting for it in dark bars and dirty alleys, looking for a joystick to sit on, looking for some man with a big, hard dick to hold your legs apart and sink it in, being obsessed with cock, needing it and hating it at the same time. Coming around it. Being addicted to it. Needing it there to come around. Like you need it now, to come around, to fuck you and grind you down and make you holler and groan.”