With Dick gone, Sue decided to have dinner by herself in their suite. The meal was brought up by a little Irish redhead about 18 years old who looked exhausted – almost as if she'd had no sleep for a couple of days. Sue felt a trifle guilty about causing extra work for the poor girl and decided to make sure that Dick gave her an extra large tip when they left. She ate the solitary meal then changed into a long powder-blue nylon gown and a blue lace peignoir. The feeling of nylon against her bare skin was wickedly exciting; she wished Dick were here.
She had sat down at the window writing desk and had begun writing a long chatty letter to Marylou when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called, thinking it was the maid returning for the dinner dishes.
"Good evening, my dear," Lord Medwell said, coming in and closing the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, staring appreciatively at her gown, then carried a large manila envelope to the table in front of the fireplace.
She felt the first discordant notes of uneasiness run through her mind. Lord Medwell had walked in as though he owned the place. He had looked at her in an unmistakable superior manner. Vaguely she felt that it was not right that he should be in a closed room with her when her husband was absent, especially with her dressed as revealingly as she was.
"Writing letters, I see," he said, quite unnecessarily.
"Yes. To a few friends back home. Mother. Cousin… you know."
Lord Medwell moved over right next to her writing table. His bold eyes fastened on her gown which was open enough to see the first proud swelling promise of her breasts. Blushing furiously, she nervously put her hand up there and fumbled the peignoir's button in an effort to close it.
"That really isn't necessary, my dear. You have charming breasts. There's no need to hide them."
"Lord Medwell! Please!" Sue was shocked. She sputtered almost incoherently when she was his leering expression. "I think, sir, you had better leave. As you know, my husband isn't here."
Lord Medwell's derisive laughter cut into her like a whip. Then his expression became coldly cruel. "Leave? Leave! I have no intention of leaving until I get what I came for." He boldly placed his blue-veined, age-spotted hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
Suddenly Sue was frightened, really frightened. Lord Medwell must be a madman! He was looking in ill-concealed lust at her breasts and at her pelvic area. "I… I… you really must go, Lord Medwell." She stood and backed nervously away from him. His eyes were like prison yard searchlights moving up and down the length of her figure. They came to rest on a spot just below her navel – that slightly protruding spot marking her mound of Venus.
"You are quite beautiful, my dear," he said.
"Please leave."
His face suddenly became contorted in something akin to hate, and his voice was tight in anger. "Don't be impertinent! I said I would not go until I got what I came for."
Sue walked to the door and opened it. "Get out," she said, trying to keep her composure.
"Close the door," he demanded.
"Get out, or I shall scream."
"You may scream all you wish, but it will be of no avail. No one will hear you; the servants are gone. We are alone in the castle."
Feeling a combination of embarrassment, anger, and fear, Sue screamed and then yelled, "Help." The echoes resounded throughout the deserted hallways, "… help… help… help." Her own voice was mocking her.
"Now that we have that silly bit of amateur theatrics out of our system, I want to show you something. Take a look at the little gift I've brought you. There, on the table… in the envelope."
"I'm not leaving this door. You make a move toward me and I'll run."
"I have no doubt that you could outrun me. It would be the most foolish thing you have done in your life, however. Take a look in the envelope. I give you my word of honor… as a gentleman… that I will not move from this spot."
Anything to get rid of this maniac, Sue thought. She sidled over from the door toward the table, watching him closely for any movement. He merely smiled in vast amusement at her precautions. He seemed to be holding his breath, and his eyes had grown to enormous size as he watched her unfasten the clasp on the envelope.
Sue didn't relax her vigilance; she riveted her eyes on him as she withdrew the contents. She could tell by the feel that they were photographs. She made one rapid glance down at the top one, and then room began swirling around her. She heard his satanic laughter burst out, and he sat down in the chair, laughing uproariously at her stunned and disbelieving expression.
"Oh," he gasped, "if you could only see you face, my dear. Divine! Absolutely fantastic! Almost as if you had suddenly stumbled upon Jack the Ripper in the darkness."
Sue gazed down in horrified disbelief. It was a photograph of herself. Not her as she saw herself each morning in the mirror, but a photograph of a totally alien her – wantonly smiling as she sucked away on Lord Medwell's sausagelike cock. Her lips were grotesquely pouting around the instrument, but it was her expression that was the most astonishing thing about the picture. It was obvious to anyone – even herself! – that she was blissfully and erotically enjoying what she was doing. Her hands were clearly shown; one was cradling his testicles as though she were weighing them, the other had two fingers wormed deep into his open rectum.
Sue's legs failed her. She was forced to steady herself on the back of a chair and then sink slowly into it. She continued to stare at the picture. Finally she closed her eyes and moaned, "Oh, my God!"
Lord Medwell continued to cackle. He choked, then coughed and wheezed. "You may like to know, my dear, that no one had to tell you a thing. I have never known a more apt pupil, one who picked it up so rapidly – within seconds, so to speak. You were born to bring pleasure to a man… and you don't have the intelligence to realize it. Pure womanly instinct." He sighed. "But really, you should look at the others."
Fear, almost wishing that God would strike her blind, Sue turned to the next photograph. She blinked and the hot tears began streaming down her face. This picture showed her with legs spread wide apart and Lord Medwell's head buried in her vaginal crevice. Her tongue was hanging laxly out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes were rolled back in her head. Shown clearly were her taut stomach muscles and flexed buttocks, and her fingernails clawing a bloody trail of lust down his back. Her face was smeared with what could only be cum; it glistened all over her neck, and a huge puddle of it could be seen alongside her shoulders on the rumpled sheet. As she gazed through watery eyes at the photograph, it was all coming back to her now. The dream! It hadn't been a dream, alter all. She remembered the moment; in the dream it had been so wonderful to have her husband doing that to her.
She realized that Lord Medwell had become silent. He merely stared at her, and his expression was once again one of anger… and something else.
He didn't make a command, but she turned to the next photograph… already sure of what she would see. It was a closeup of Lord Medwell's cock in the process of being jammed into her vagina. What made the picture so unbelievably horrible again was the sheer expression of delight and impatient lust on her face. She thought dully: It didn't hurt at all when he did that; it was wonderful. I remember the sensation now. Beautiful. But I thought it was my husband making love to me… not someone using me as a ploy, an insensitive whore. She suddenly realized that no one seeing the photograph would ever think of her being an "insensitive" whore. A "whore," yes. "Insensitive," never! Not with that gloating sensual expression on her face, not with those fingernails digging deeply into his driving buttocks. No, if anything, she was a very "sensitive" whore, one who was enjoying the fucking of her life.
The next, as she was pretty sure it would, showed Morgan with his stubby little cock in the process of sodomizing her. Again the photographer had masterfully focused on her expression. She was the personification of wantonness. The hang of the taut breasts like ripe fruit about to drop from a tree, the tendons of her neck, the muscles of her inner thighs, the deep indentations created by the eager flexing of the anal muscles… all were clear indications that she was within seconds of obtaining an orgasm.
It was all too much to bear, much less understand. Her dignity crushed, sobs wracked her body and each breath was a shuddering one. She had never been so mortified, so humiliated, so ashamed in her life. The photographs, no matter how they had come to be taken, gave Sue an insight to that darker being within her whose existence she had never known or even suspected.
Lord Medwell was no longer amused; he stalked angrily toward the door and closed it. He stood there, impatiently rocking back and forth, glaring at her. "Whimper all you want, slut. Cry your heart out. It makes no difference. Your precious husband shall see these when he returns from the hunt tonight. And in tomorrow's post, an envelope identical to the one I gave you will be transmitted to your mother, to your local police authorities, and to…" He took his hand from behind his back and held out Sue's blue address book. He grinned evilly "… every name in this book."
She screamed and leaped toward him; she was rewarded by a vicious backhand in the face that sent her sprawling to the rug. In falling, her peignoir ripped; her gown slithered up to her waist, where the full ripeness of her upper thighs and buttocks were fully visible to Lord Medwell's cruelly glinting eyes. "You beast you, you filthy beast," she sobbed.
"My dear young lady. These photographs are not of a 'filthy beast'… but of a common street whore sucking, being sucked, being, if you'll pardon the Saxon expression, 'fucked'… and being sodomized. Oh, how she loves it all. Note the enjoyment upon her face. How amusing it will be when your mother and all of your little friends and relatives see what a happy honeymoon you're enjoying."
"What is it you want?" she gasped, feeling horror and sickness suddenly wash over her like an unrelenting tide of despair.
"That's hardly the question you want to ask, is it? What you really want to know is: 'How do I get those photographs back?'"
Sue looked up from the floor. She could see the bulge growing in his trousers as he gazed at her uncovered body. She made a futile attempt to pull her gown down. A part of her mind was screaming like a frightened caged animal, "… help me, please, someone… help me." Yet she knew there would be no help. No help from the local police, and certainly none from Dick. If Dick ever saw the photographs, he would leave her in an instant. With a sudden caving in of her spirit, she asked in a barely audible voice, "What do… I have to do… to get them back?"
Lord Medwell smiled. "Excellent, my dear. You are, as I said before, a quick study – a fast learner." He picked up the envelope and withdrew the first one. He rolled his eyes theatrically. "Oh, yes! I remember it well. It was delightful; you showed such tremendous talent for it." He looked as if he were thinking, then nodded his head. "That's it! That seems fair enough. For each photographic scene you recreate, I shall return a picture."
As she realized what he was asking, Sue suddenly felt a painful spasm in her stomach; she was sure she was going to vomit. Oh, God! How could any human being so degrade another, so debase another as he was trying to do to her. She wouldn't do it… she couldn't do it. She shook her head and mumbled, "I won't." Then she looked up in tearful pleading, "Please, Lord Medwell. Please have mercy – pity. Give me the photographs. Please!" The last was a half hysterical scream.
"Of course, my child. They shall be returned to you… upon my word as a gentleman… just as soon as you fulfill the conditions of our contract."
Sobbing incoherently, Sue shook her head violently from side to side, "I can't. I just can't do that!"
Lord Medwell clapped his hands together in dismissal. "Then we really have nothing more to discuss. The photographs will be mailed tomorrow." He turned to the door.
"Please. Have pity." Sue screamed.
Lord Medwell did not answer. He opened the door and stood in the archway. "Good evening, Madam. And sweet dreams." He started to close the door.
"No," Sue shouted in desperation and fear. "No… come back." Her body was wracked with shuddering sobs of distress, as she buried her face in her hands.
"You'll do it?" Lord Medwell's voice was cold, inflexible.
"Oh, God forgive me… yes!" she screamed. "Yes… you, you beast… I'll do it!"
Lord Medwell closed the door behind him. His face was red in rage and his voice tight in poorly suppressed fury. "Watch your language, slut, or I shall have second thoughts about my generosity. As it is, you will pay a little extra for your persistent use of the odious term."
Abjectly, knowing she must be on his good side to get the photographs, Sue said, "I'm sorry."
"That's better, immensely better. Now my dear, take your hands away from your pretty little face. Do it… now!" The last word cracked like a whip and Sue's body jumped as though struck.
Lord Medwell handed down photograph number one. "Shall we begin? Recreate this… and you may have the picture to do as you wish. Burn it, tear it, or keep it among your treasured souvenirs. Look at it closely."
"Oh, God…" she moaned in shame and distress.
"Take off your clothes." It was an order, there could be no disobedience. She rose, silent, unable to speak for the humiliation she felt. The man's eyes burned huge holes in her breasts and pelvic area. When she hesitated – hoping against hope that he would change his mind, that this was really a monstrous nightmare from which she would soon awaken – Lord Medwell narrowed his eyes in warning. Quickly then, she took off the peignoir. Then, eyes closed and unable to look at him, she slowly lifted the gown over her head to stand naked and trembling abjectly before him.
"Beautiful, just beautiful. Now stand there until I get my clothes off." For the first time the old man began showing real signs of impatience. She watched him, horrified, as he removed his coat, tie, shirt and undershirt, and then unbuttoned his trousers and dropped his pants and drawers to the floor. A moment later, he stood before her with only his shoes and socks and garters on. His huge white erection grew like a poisonous toadstool in the grey tundra of his pubic hair. "All right, my dear. Picture number one: on your hands and knees… crawl to me."
It was going to be even worse than she had thought. She kept saying over and over again in her mind, "This can't be happening to me; this can't be happening to me." Lord Medwell was a hideous creature seen in some nightmare as he leered down at her with those horribly hot and unbending eyes. She would die before she did this. "No… I can't." She clenched her eyes tightly shut as if she could erase the scene from memory and make it cease to exist.
"If I am forced to put my clothes on, I swear to you that nothing – absolutely nothing you could offer, no matter how far you crawled – could obtain the release of these photographs. Do you quite understand?"
"Please?" she pleaded, looking at him once more in supplication. "Please…"
Lord Medwell merely stroked his waiting cock and answered. "I'm waiting. On your hands and knees. Quickly!"
It was hopeless, she knew it was hopeless. All was lost. It didn't matter. She would die of humiliation if the photographs were released; she would die of humiliation if she were to undergo the cruel debasement in order to retrieve them. It didn't matter except… the pictures would kill Dick's love for her, would destroy her mother, would be traumatic for all her friends receiving copies. This way only she would be hurt. Slowly, she sank to her knees and began crawling like a wounded animal toward his naked loins.
Now all she could think about was getting the execution of her soul and dignity over with as rapidly as possible. Lord Medwell misunderstood her suddenly speeded up crawling. "Don't be so eager, my dear. You are acting as hungry as you were last night." He laughed and backed away when she reached him. She crawled forward two more paces, then reached up for his cock. He backed away again, laughing at her. "Come on," he coaxed, and moved back until his hips were against the bed. He sat down and spread his legs. Sue could see his testicles dangling like ripe, flesh colored fruit above the brown puckered opening of his anus. His cock stuck up in the air at an outrageous angle, and occasionally it throbbed and jerked spasmodically.
Sue crawled up on the platform and to the bedside, no longer conscious of moving or acting. She was merely an automated robot, incapable of independent action or thought.
"Now, my dear. For the first photograph…"
She shuddered in revulsion as she bent forward to pay unwilling homage to the waving, purple and white penis. She could see angry red veins running up its white and blue trunk and the throbbing purple hooded head already seeping a white thick fluid. His balls were high and tight now in his purple scrotum; his gray pubic hair lay like white foliage struck down by hail. Inside her mind a voice kept crying out, "Ask him once again."; but she refused to heed it, knowing instinctively that it would be useless. Besides, she knew her abject begging and pleading only added to his sadistic enjoyment. She closed her eyes and swallowed, muttering a silent prayer, "Dick… forgive me. Please forgive me, darling, for what I'm about to do."
Her lips closed wetly about the smooth rubbery head. Lord Medwell groaned. His eyes were bulging in unconcealed lust as he stared down at the top of her blonde young head. The knob of his cock tasted like sweet soap, the viscous fluid seeping from the glans was slightly saline with a faint odor. He moved the rod in her mouth. "Suck a little, nibble a little, my dear."
"I was dreaming… I am dreaming… I am dreaming," Sue said to herself with each thrust of the hated cock in and out of her mouth. She had dreamed of doing this last night; it had been terribly exciting, terribly enjoyable… but that had been with her husband! She felt nothing now but despair and humiliation. She followed his directions, mindlessly licking and nibbling and tongue teasing as he ordered. She was sure that it would never end, but it did with Lord Medwell's saying, "That's enough for now."
She removed her mouth from his cock. She kneeled there, head down in subjugation, waiting for whatever cruelty was to come next.
"Get on the bed," Lord Medwell said. Spiritlessly, Sue did as she was instructed. She lay there, legs slightly apart, staring up at the ceiling – not making any effort to cover her body. Lord Medwell gazed speculatively down at her. "You aren't showing nearly enough enthusiasm, my dear. Perhaps we should turn that little furnace of yours up higher." He walked away from the bed and came back a moment later with the second photograph. He held it before her yes. "Shall we try for number two?" When Sue did not answer, he slapped her with the picture. The sharp edge of the paper cut the underside of her chin, drawing a thin line of blood. "Answer me," he snarled.
"Yes…"
"Yes, what, you slut?"
"Yes. Let us do number two."
"There is a vulgarism – American, I believe called 'eating pussy'. Some of our lesser educated Englishmen call it 'cunt scouring'. Now you must ask me in a nice way – using either of those vulgarisms."
Sue closed her eyes and sighed. "I want you to eat pussy."
"Whose?"
"Mine."
"Say it then."
She sighed again and said, without any inflection at all, "I want you to eat my pussy."
"Please?"
"Please…"
Sue was aware that her legs were being spread apart. She flinched, in spite of herself, when his finger parted the softness of her pubic hair and touched her vaginal lips. She remembered the dream last night! Presumably Dick had been doing this to her. It had been wildly exciting and erotic beyond description. But now, she felt nothing. Only a deadness down there as he began his perverted licking.
The numbness lasted until he reached the clitoris; he put his lips and it began sucking it as though it were a very small penis. Sue's body stiffened as she felt the unwelcome sensations return down there. Lord Medwell chuckled as he sensed she had finally begun to come to life. Next she felt his tongue jab into her vagina; it was like an electrical cattle prod placed in there. She jumped, trying to pull herself away from him. Then the slow, rhythmic, tantalizing licking began again. She flexed the muscles along her inner thighs attempting to make the unwanted feeling of pleasure go away but it only added to her enjoyment. With the tensing of her thighs, Lord Medwell went back to lick again at the tiny, suddenly pulsating, clitoris.
Now Sue was beginning to moan and sob as she realized what these sensations implied. No, this couldn't be happening to her! It mustn't happen! The nerve endings down there were betraying her. She couldn't permit this to feel pleasurable; she couldn't. But, in spite of her revulsion at the act, her abdomen rose and fell with increasing rapidity as the old man began taking long licking strokes with his tongue and using his nose to buffet the clitoris while his chin whiskers were scraping against her tightly clenched anus. She knew she was beginning to secrete lubricants and liquids from glands that were taking notice of the loving attention being bestowed them. It wasn't until she discovered her pelvis was beginning to grind lewdly into the old man's sardonically smiling face that she realized she had lost this one particular battle. Her shamelessly aroused body was moving independently now, she hadn't the least control over it any longer. His hot hungry mouth enclosed the entire vaginal labia area and he began sucking voraciously at it. The exquisite sensations shot across her loins into the nerve endings at the mouth of her womb. His drooling mouth kept the labia tightly clamped, his tongue pressured its way through the compressed vaginal lip, and Sue almost lost her mind attempting to control her reactions.
Finally – and she knew it the second that it happened – she reached the point of no return. She was going to have a climax! She fought it, screamed against it in her mind, but muscles and nerves all rebelled against the discipline – seeking instead the sweet release. Then her pelvis was jerking and her hands were trying to push the old man's face up all the way into her vagina, and a voice she had never heard before was screeching from her own throat, "I'm cumming. Oh God, lick harder… faster… now… Now…! Aieeee."
She was almost unconscious from the combination of shame and satiation when Lord Medwell raised her knees to her chest. Abruptly she felt his penis pressing against her open, unprotected vagina.
"Now number three," he said.
"No… you'll hurt me," she moaned, but it was already too late. She attempted to scissor her legs, but the movement caused him to slip forward and his long hard cock slid effortlessly into the mouth of her cervix. "Gaaaagh," she screamed. God, it was excruciating. It was a white hot poker plunged into her. Worse, far worse, more agonizing than even the first night with Dick. That pain, at least, had come from love – this came from torture and debasement and rape.
Lord Medwell smiled down at her. "Don't put on an act, my dear." He reached over to the bedside table and pulled down the photograph. The sideways movement hurt her and she moaned in pain. "See what immense pleasure you are getting out of me. That is the real you. You're only acting right now," he said.
Sue's eyes were blinded to the picture; the reality of the moment was that she was in pain from sexual intercourse and his huge penis. He moved it out a bit; the withdrawal motion was agonizing. He pushed it in to its utmost depth again. "Ooooohhh, God! No, please. You're hurting me. Please, I'll do anything… but not this… you're killing me." A sudden jab was the only answer to her pitiful plea. She was suddenly screaming at the top of her voice as he began viciously jabbing into her; she jerked her eyes open to see the old man's cruel sadistic grin above her. He was killing her; he wanted to hear her scream and moan; he was enjoying every second of it.
Her vagina felt as though it bad shattered and was bleeding from a thousand different, places. His cock lay throbbing, sunk deep in her belly, filling every part of her insides. There wasn't a single fleshy ridge on the prick that she could not feel as it pressed tight against the soft flesh of her cunt. It was a heated scimitar plunged into the belly of the infidel. Sue lay immobile, afraid to move because of the pain each movement brought.
Lord Medwell grinned down at her. He flexed his cock inside her belly and she felt it jerk up and against the cervix. "Aaaagggh," she groaned, and her face was twisted in pain.
Lord Medwell merely smiled more sadistically. He flexed it again.
"Oooohhh…" She kept her stomach muscles as tight as possible, hoping she would create an intolerable pressure for him down there.
Slowly, Lord Medwell pulled his hardened penis from her tight vaginal sheath until it was about half out, then slowly – oh, so very slowly – pushed it in again. He did this for about three minutes.
"Oooohhh, please… you're… hurting." She said it automatically, and with a sudden jolt to her brain realized that she was screaming a lie. Oh, it was tight, all right. Very tight. And she was being stretched painfully. But the slow, salacious movements were not painful! Furthermore, by the sudden look on the old man's face, she knew he was aware of her new knowledge.
"Now you must ask me to 'fuck' you."
"No… I won't. I can't. Please don't. Do what you have to do and get it over with, but please don't ask me to degrade myself like that!"
Lord Medwell continued to move his cock back and forth slowly. Sue was aware that her vagina was making a wet, lewd sucking noise, as it slipped moistly in and out of her fully opened vagina and that too suddenly began to add to the forbidden excitement she felt coursing through her betraying body.
"You must beg," he said, insistently, "that is part of the contract. After all, each time you say 'please, stop', you're begging. So beg me to 'fuck' you." He shoved his prick forward and a shock of unwanted pleasure shot through her womb.
"Oooh, no! Please no." That, of course, would be the final straw – the ultimate in humiliation. She had maintained a tiny shred of pride because she knew she was suffering all this for Dick and her mother's sake. But to be forced to beg? That would be the end of her forever as a decent person. He had taken her self-respect, her fidelity to her husband… taken everything. She couldn't, she wouldn't give him the ultimate triumph of hearing her beg for him to force these horribly depraved indignities on her helpless body!
Lord Medwell stopped moving with his penis half in, half out of her cunt. "Very well," he said. "A woman has other ways of begging. We shall see."
Sue didn't understand what he was talking about, and she didn't waste time trying to figure it out because her mind was elsewhere… analyzing, calculating, evaluating. Something unwanted was happening in her vaginal area. The pain had disappeared. She wasn't even uncomfortable any longer. There was a pleasant warmth there, a pleasant pressure. When his penis twitched again she was astonished to find that – without volition – her own inner muscles had flexed in involuntary response, bringing a smile of ecstatic delight from him.
She fought with every bit of will-power she had to keep from doing that again. She hadn't been conscious of doing it the first time; she wasn't sure how she had done it… please, please, just don't let it happen again. But it did happen, and there was a minor groan from him. It happened again… and again… and again until it seemed almost as if she had attached an automatic milking machine down there between her legs.
Lord Medwell was making a slow rocking motion between her thighs. She could feel the narrow passageway to her innermost femaledom being widened with each short stroke. The friction had caused her vagina to run – within seconds – the entire spectrum from cold agony to hot willing anticipation. The hot glow of passion outside was being rubbed and pushed inside; she could feel it creeping relentlessly along the vaginal walls to the tip of her uterus… a strange and wonderful glow. She fought that, too. She fought her breathing, which was becoming more shallow, more rapid. The perspiration popped out on her forehead as she fought a desperate losing battle with her pelvis after discovering it shamelessly rising to meet the downward thrust of his cock; she forced her pelvis back to the mattress. A second later, though, it had begun moving slowly upward again like an open-mouthed fish rising to the bait.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the battle was over. Sue's body was asserting its independence from her ethics, her morals, her upbringing, her will-power! The lewd flames of lust coursed salaciously through her veins, and her heart sped up its action in an effort to get the hot desire – contaminated blood into every part of her body. Her pelvis as she had feared, was the first to unleash itself. After a long struggle, it began moving up and down of its own volition on the white rod of hardened flesh – the two things moving in harmony and growing excitement. Her inner muscles went next; twitching against, massaging, and milking the cock for its entire length. One section of muscle squeezed so tightly on Lord Medwell's prick that he groaned uncomfortably.
It was all going away from her. Sue could mentally stand off and watch her body – as though she were watching the actions of a lust-crazed prostitute beneath a stranger's pounding weight. Her face was beginning to twist in an expression of unbridled desire. Her body writhed beneath him, and she made low hums of passionate encouragement with each new thrust of his prick. Her breath now was coming in puppy dog-like pants. Her legs on either side of his driving hips were moving in tiny lewd circles as though she were using a hula hoop. Suddenly, Sue's mind which had been able to stand off and watch all this became too excited to be denied its participation. There was no longer any thought but the delicious sensation of lying beneath this man who was bringing her rapidly to a peak of glory she had never consciously known existed. She was cumming again; she knew it. She wanted it… she didn't want it… she wanted it… she wanted it… and she was close, close, close!
Then, Lord Medwell stopped.
Unbelievingly she looked up at him. He grinned down at her. "You do like to be fucked, don't you, my dear?"
She stared at him, burning hatred in her eyes, her nostrils quivering with each short breath she took.
He flexed his cock deep inside her.
"Ummm," she mewled.
"You like to be fucked?" He flexed it twice.
"Oh, God, help me. Yes. Yes!" she screamed, and the cry came from the deepest part of her being. "Fuck me."
"All right, my dear. We have a slight change in plan, though. A much more enjoyable way of you reaching your little climax. You'll get all of the photographs, providing you follow directions."
It was the heat within her that made her answer through gritted teeth, "I'll do anything." She moaned helplessly as she moved her pelvis up and down, up and down, wanting to bring herself to final fruition.
Lord Medwell twitched his cock again. In response to her groan of delight, he said, "Yes… I guess you would do anything right now. I'm weary, my dear. I'll lie on the bottom, you shall be on top." Clasping her buttocks tightly in each hand, he rolled over, carrying Sue with him. His cock stayed deeply buried in now wildly stretched vagina during the entire exercise.
Sue propped her knees into the mattress, with his legs between her. Lord Medwell used his hands to pull her buttocks down, then pushed her back up. "That's the way it's done," he said.
She rode his prick up and down and round and round as though she were aboard a carousel horse – her cunt reaching hopefully for the elusive brass ring of forbidden pleasure. She moaned in wild delight as she discovered that this new position permitted extra friction from his cock against her clitoris. It was beyond a doubt the most exciting thing she had ever felt in her life. She hated herself for what she was doing, yet knew it was impossible not to do it. She was his helpless slave now, even though she were on top and free to dart away. The pictures were unimportant… the cock was the thing. She rode him unmercifully… bouncing up and down obscenely, flaunting her pelvis against the impaling shaft as though she were trying to drive it all the way through her body.
Through it all, Lord Medwell lay there with an amused smile on his face; he even had his hands behind his head!
Sue could feel everything coming together down there now. She was mixing ingredients that – together – became a wild unstable compound which was threatening to explode at any moment. Her body was moving in abandoned wantonness. She was coming closer, closer, closer. She was moaning – mouthing incoherencies – and her eyes were rolling around in her head. Then Lord Medwell's arms locked her in position! She was incapable of movement!
She stared down at him, wondering if he was cumming, or if he had suddenly gone mad. Instead he was smiling mysteriously. Impatiently, she wiggled her ass a couple of time in an effort to get loose from his arms. He shook his head. "Relax, my dear. Here's where you get all of the pictures. Just lie still for a minute. Don't move."
Sue felt obscene with her buttocks waving nakedly in the air that way, but she did as instructed, feeling her inner muscles milking and massaging the warm cudgel inside her.
Suddenly, she felt a strange finger rubbing from her vagina to her anus!
She screamed and twisted around, then moaned in terror when she saw Tom Morgan beside the bed. He was completely naked; his stubby cock was at full erection.
"Good evening, Sue," Tom said formally, and pressured his wet finger into her tight puckered little anal ring.
"Oh, no… please no." Sue panted. "You can't… it isn't right." She jerked and tried to rise.
"Hold her," Tom ordered, and Sue felt Lord Medwell's arms lock again like a vise around her waist. Sue screamed again, this time in pain, as the finger moved all the way in to its knuckle. She groaned as he began sawing it back and forth. Sue attempted to get away from it by pressing down; this only skewered her cunt more deeply on Lord Medwell's cock coming up from below.
She could feel the prick flexing inside of her. She tensed her buttocks tight in an effort to escape the finger; the action did nothing to halt Morgan's intrusion, but Lord Medwell moaned in delight.
Morgan was kneading the left cheek of her ass with his hand. He kissed that sensitive spot below the base of her spine and bit her buttocks painfully. And all the time his finger sawed away monotonously at the straining depths of her tightly clenched rectum.
"Please… no," Sue had begun, but then said, "Gaaaaggghh," as a second finger joined the first.
"Hurry, Morgan," Lord Medwell commented. "She is nibbling me to sweet death. I do believe the bitch has got me rather close to cumming."
The pain in her anus and rectum was intense. Sue splayed her legs to avoid the pressure, but this only brought a third finger into play – all of them now making ever widening circles as her asshole was expanded ever wider.
Satisfied finally, Morgan climbed atop the bed. He peeled open her soft, yielding buttocks and then leaned forward to drop a larger drop of saliva which drooled down the smooth white crevice to her anus.
He shuffled up between her and Lord Medwell's legs. He clamped his hands on her hips. Then he pressed forward with his cock. Sue fought it once again, but was held immovable by Lord Medwell's arm and Morgan's grip. The head of Morgan's prick slipped easily into the already stretched anal opening; he kept right on going until his balls slapped up against her buttocks. "Gaaaggghh," she screamed, "you're killing me! Oh God, you're killing me!"
"Dear Sue," Morgan said patiently, "you're being a child about this. You've enjoyed sodomy for the last two nights. This is merely a double exposure in return for the photographs."
"I say. A 'double exposure'. Rather good that," Lord Medwell chuckled as he flexed his cock again. Sue felt the responding twitch from Morgan.
Morgan began moving tentatively, "Gentle motions – those count in a young asshole," he said philosophically.
Sue felt as though someone had shoved pillows filled with rocks into her abdomen. Her asshole was filled, her cunt was filled. There was only a thin membrane separating the two pricks, and they rubbed and bumped against each other like hungry sharks in the aquarium.
It was not long before the two men began buffeting her between them – like a rag doll thrown in a game of "catch". She had never felt so helpless and naked before in her life. This was the end – whatever few grains of self-respect that may have been left in her mind were rapidly being extinguished. Large wet tears streamed down both sides of her face to drop with a splash on Lord Medwell's grey-haired chest. Morgan began driving in and out of her rectum with maniacal fury; Lord Medwell was obviously close to cumming… or dying of a heart attack! And Sue? She could feel the pain being replaced by a kind of masochistic pleasure. Unable to escape… unable to prevent it… her body had no recourse but to accept.
And once again she lost control of her body! She could feel her orgasm coming back again… it seemed to hover like a primeval bird of prey looking for a place to land.
Then with frightening suddenness, she was there! It was she, who in her sudden desperate hunger, took control away from the two men; it was she who began frantically bucking against them, urging them on to harder and deeper thrusts. She reared her ass in the air to get full benefit of Morgan's cock, then fell heavily skewering herself harder still down on Lord Medwell's driving cock. "Fuck me," she screamed, "fucker harder… harder… Oh God, fuck it harder!"
And it was her soprano scream that started the sweet upheaval first in her cunt, then seconds later in her rectum, and then in her clitoris. She came in all three places – achieved three different types of climaxes. And she continued to cum for as long as the men would have her; until they fell from her in satiated weariness. Even above the glory of her orgasm, she felt a vague disappointment that the double fucking of her forever stretched genitals had ended…
When it was over and the tears had dropped flowing, she lay nude for a long time just staring up at the ceiling. Her body hurt, but the greater pain was in her heart. They had stripped her of everything – pride, dignity, faithfulness. They had made her a wanton adultress, begging and screeching obscenities. They had used her body and – she knew this to be true – she had used them! They had made her reach climax after climax… something no one else had ever been able to do. She had given them something that her husband had never had.
And overall was the stunning, undeniable fact that she had enjoyed it… not the taunts, not the crawling or begging, or debasement and cruelty… but the sex act. That she had enjoyed… sex had been wonderful. Then she was weeping again as she realized what she must do to atone for the horrible sin of her wanton submission to two complete strangers.