The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 11

by Maxim Jakubowski

  “You’re a little slut slumming for cock . . . aren’t you? Say it, you whore!”

  Tracy whimpered. Kerry raised her hand and swung it in a downward arc. Another slap reverberated.

  “Say it!”

  “Yes! God . . . don’t hurt me any more . . .”

  “Slut!”

  “Yes!”

  “Whore!”

  “Yes . . . whore . . . whore . . .”

  “That’s better.” Kerry leaned down and sealed a rough wet kiss to Tracy’s mouth.

  She sat up and crooked her finger at Rocco. “Fuck this slut, c’mon.”

  Rocco turned back towards Tobin who now stood just at the margin of light.

  Tracy hadn’t said her safe word. Tobin nodded to Rocco to play along.

  Before he could climb onto the pool table Kerry scanned the room. “Anyone else want some of this pig?”

  Tracy squirmed. Kerry had hooked her fingers in her pussy and was playing with her clit.

  The other guys quickly picked up the cue. Kerry turned Tracy over and gave her a quick slap on her ass.

  “Let’s see how she sucks dick.”

  Ben dropped his pants and held out his cock just where Tracy’s head hung over the edge.

  “Don’t wait for her to take it, fuck her mouth like it’s a cunt.” As she said it, Kerry tugged off her own top, shaking out her hair and her breasts.

  Tobin hissed from the shadows, “That crazy bitch.”

  “Take hold of their dicks,” she said and slapped the other cheek of Tracy’s ass. Sean and Teddy moved in, guiding Tracy’s hands to their cocks. She immediately began milking them. Jim stood by, ready to join in.

  “What a fucking filthy slut!” Kerry said it to the crowd. The extras surged around the table; men and women stroked, squeezed and pinched Tracy’s legs and ass. They called her “slut”, “pig”, “whore”.

  Rocco looked confused. Kerry hopped onto the floor and the crowd parted for her.

  She glared at Neil who sat transfixed on the floor.

  “You disgraceful cowardly little pussy,” she said. “Do you like what you see? Do you like seeing your wife turned into a cock-hungry slut? Show me your little dickie . . . do it!”

  Neil stood and fumbled with his pants and suspenders. They dropped to his ankles. A dark stain marked the crotch of his dark grey briefs.

  “Take it out.”

  Neil tugged his stiff dick from its cotton confines.

  Kerry turned and strode back to the pool table. She grabbed a handful of Tracy’s hair and yanked her head towards Neil.

  “Ouch!” Sean yelped as his cock plopped out of her mouth.

  “See . . . the little bitch is enjoying your rape. What a little cunt he is. Is he a cocksucker too?”

  Tracy gasped. “I . . . I . . . don’t know . . .”

  “Let’s turn him into a cocksucker . . . you want to see that, honey?”

  Tracy snarled, “Yes, make him suck cock. Fucking wimp, coward . . . I hate you!”

  Neil moaned and collapsed to his knees.

  Kerry took Rocco’s hand. “Now, make this meaty man’s cock nice and hard for your wife’s cunt and ass.”

  She led Rocco to the quivering Neil.

  Rocco looked down at him, his cock dangling above Neil’s bowed head.

  “Get me hard, pussy-boy.”

  Neil didn’t move. Rocco grabbed him by the hair and raised his head. Neil opened his mouth as Rocco slid his cock into his cheek.

  “Play with his balls, too,” Kerry ordered.

  She returned to the pool table and hopped aboard. Tracy had raised herself onto her hands and knees. Her hands slipped on the felt, glazed from the almost simultaneous ejaculations of Ted and Ben. Jim kneeled behind her, sliding his cock between her ass cheeks.

  Kerry stretched her arm over Tracy’s back. “Look at him, look at what a cocksucker he is. He deserves to be fucked as hard as you, doesn’t he?”

  “I hate him . . . cocksucker! Make him come in your mouth!”

  A shudder ran up Rocco’s back. “Jesus! He sucks like a bitch.”

  Neil gulped and coughed up Rocco’s semen. It drooled off his chin where it joined a pool of his own.

  Kerry hopped back off the table and strode over to Neil. “I guess you really are a cunt now.”

  She turned back to Tracy. “Shall I fuck him like the bitch he is?”

  “Yes, yes! Fuck him. Rape him!”

  Kerry dropped her skirt. She had removed a tube from its pocket.

  Tobin squinted to see what she was up to. He saw the belt and cinch around her waist, and then she turned slightly as she squeezed something from the tube into her hand.

  “Jesus, was she wearing that thing the whole time?”

  Neil tentatively peered over his shoulder and moaned at the sight of the black, rubber dick that hung from Kerry’s strap-on. It was such a mournful note, Tobin was sure he’d scream his safe word.

  Instead he lifted his ass in compliance as Kerry positioned herself behind him. Tobin watched her hips jut forward as a long whimper issued from Neil. Then she thrust her hips forward again, then again. Neil cried like a little girl as Kerry accelerated her rhythm.

  Jim was fucking Tracy from behind. Rocco kneeled in front of her offering his recovering cock.

  “See if you can suck as good as the wimp,” he said.

  The crowd was in a frenzy. A couple of the girls had shed their clothes and a no-stops orgy was developing.

  Tobin sat back as the aroma of sex pervaded the room. “Christ!” he uttered.

  Neil let out a shriek, and collapsed. Kerry reached her hand into the pool of semen beneath him, turned him over and smeared it over his face.

  “Dirty little girl,” she sneered.

  She stood, the wet rubber cock glistening. She unbuckled the belt and let it fall to the floor.

  Rocco had taken over for a spent Jim and was ploughing Tracy’s ass. Teddy fucked her mouth. Ben had been dragged away by some little wisp of a girl . . . one of the extras, who rode his cock on the floor amidst a tangle of other limbs. Sean’s cock had found another woman’s mouth to call home.

  It occurred to Tobin that he hadn’t seen Tully all night. Finally he arrived . . . late and confused. Things were slowing down. Tracy lay exhausted, semen smears streaking her body and her hair a sticky mat.

  Tully climbed onto the pool table, turned her onto her back and plunged his cock into her pussy. Her arms closed around his neck as he pummelled her. She was weeping.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  Tobin confronted the still naked Kerry in the locker room.

  “Please . . . is there a shower?”

  “First door on the right.”

  She turned away without saying anything. Tobin followed her into the shower and watched her as she stood under one of the nozzles. The water cascaded over her head and shoulders.

  “We have a script we follow. We don’t deviate. Jesus! Where the hell do you get off slapping Mrs Stassen?”

  “She needed it. She craved it. She wants to be in charge, but she really doesn’t want to be in charge.”

  “How in fuck are you supposed to know?”

  “Do you want to wash me?”

  “No!”

  “Can you wait outside, then? We can talk later.”

  Tobin shook his head, turned and strode out.

  She joined him in the public lounge. She wore jeans and a blue T-shirt; her hair was damp from her shower. She looked like a completely different girl to him.

  “OK . . . what the hell were you thinking?”

  Larry brought them drinks. She sipped hers slowly.

  “I know . . . knew what they needed, what they wanted,” she said.

  “They told me what they wanted. Who the hell told you to ad-lib the scene?”

  “They needed to be guided; they needed to be led into their other life.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell is your . .
. Christ! Who the hell are you?”

  “You know who I am.”

  “Yeah, I do . . . Psyche.”

  Her flinch evaporated as instantly as it appeared.

  “In school, the other kids used to call me Psycho. I didn’t like school much.”

  “You did something to Hasley, didn’t you? She just basically gave you a no-show job because . . . why?”

  “Ms Hasley used to brood a lot. She wasn’t getting her work done; she couldn’t focus. One morning I found her gazing out the window. I slapped her face and told her she was a whore who needed to do penance.”

  “Is that your specialty, slapping faces?”

  “It helped her cross.”

  “Cross?”

  “Into her true life. As Marta she is acted upon, she’s not responsible for what happens to her. She wants to be a good girl and accept her penance.”

  “That’s nuts.”

  “Her life as Marta is more important to her than Evelyn Hasley. It is for Marta that her heart truly beats.”

  “It’s a fantasy; this is the real world.”

  She shrugged. “Is it?”

  “I thought I showed you that the other night. Do you really get off on imagining yourself fucked by a bunch of old bums? You know now it could never happen, not in real life.”

  “It can happen. Free will means we can choose to believe what we want, decide what is real and what is not. You make a conscious decision to lead the life you choose to lead.”

  “Lots of luck.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think I really want to be ravished by hordes of filthy old men.”

  “That’s the first healthy thing you’ve said since we met.”

  “Just one.”

  She stood and said goodnight.

  He watched her leave, then stood and followed her out the door.

  He tailed her along the dark streets, following the path they had taken before.

  He caught up to her at the vacant lot. One hand closed over her mouth; he held her arms against her stomach with the other and dragged her into the field.

  “Shut up and you won’t be hurt,” he warned.

  He dragged her to a shadowed area against the wall of an adjacent building.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  His hands slid beneath her tee and sought out her breasts. He squeezed them and ran his thumbs over her nipples; they hardened instantly. He dropped a hand to the zipper of her jeans. He tugged them down her legs.

  “Step out of them,” he ordered. She complied.

  “Hey, what’re you doing there?” It was the bum from the other night. Others began to gather around.

  “What the hell does it look like?”

  Tobin forced her legs apart and made her bend forward against the wall.

  “You wanna fuck that little whore here, you gotta pay rent.”

  “How much?”

  “Depends on what you’re gonna do to her.”

  “I’m gonna fuck her cunt like a dog.”

  “You gonna fuck her asshole too? She gonna suck your dick?”

  “Maybe . . . I don’t know.”

  “Five bucks to start . . . but the meter’s running.”

  He slid his cock into her pussy and thrust. She cried out.

  Their audience closed around them.

  Tobin pounded his pelvis against her, each time driving his cock deeper into her belly. She bent lower, and began to keen.

  “She makes any more noise, it’s gonna cost you extra.”

  Tobin didn’t answer.

  “She sure is a skinny bitch. Fuckin’ whores around here too busy shooting up to eat.”

  She pushed back against him and reached between her own legs to stroke her clit. She began to wail.

  “Shit, she’s gonna bring a cop down here for sure. Make her shut up.”

  Tobin launched his fluids; she shuddered at his release. He stepped away, his cock slipping out of her trailing a tendril of semen. Another gob ran down her thigh. She curled up beside the wall.

  Tobin drew a wad of bills from his pocket and peeled off a few. “Will this cover the rent?”

  The man snatched the money and nodded.

  “Hey, you want us to get rid of her for you?”

  “What?”

  “Sure . . . nobody’ll find her.”

  “No . . . I’m just breaking her in.”

  “You pimping her?”

  “Going to.”

  “No shit.”

  “Do me a favour, will you?”

  “Huh?”

  Tobin lifted her to her feet and spun her around to face the bum. He lifted her tee.

  “Give her tits a squeeze for me.”

  The bum shrugged and took hold of her breasts.

  “Like this?”

  “Yeah, that’s enough.”

  She pulled on her jeans and stumbled towards the street.

  “Was it everything you hoped it would be?” he mocked.

  She turned to face him, her eyes glazed. She began to sway. He caught her as she passed out.

  Neil Stassen sat in front of Tobin’s desk. He looked different, older maybe.

  “My wife and I are divorcing,” he said. “It’s all very amicable, no bitterness at all.”

  “Still, I’m sorry to hear it,” Tobin said.

  “She said . . . she could never respect me as a man again. She said it wasn’t my fault, that she had changed since that night. I understood . . . that is, I can’t explain it, but somehow I feel as if we both transcended something . . . a barrier we didn’t know existed. That young woman . . . the one who . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “It was as if she had thrown open a door and herded us through. Our lives, my life, what I was before . . . it’s all meaningless to me. It’s very liberating, but then I wonder, what next, what do I do now? And then it’s as plain as day; I can do anything, live any life I want. Can you understand, Mr Tobin?”

  “Not entirely, Mr Stassen.

  Neil smiled. “I know . . . I’ve hardly worked it out myself. I just wanted to thank you.”

  “Me?”

  “If it wasn’t for you, well, the veil would not have been lifted. That young woman . . .”

  “She must remain anonymous, Mr Stassen.”

  “Yes . . . I suppose. Well, goodbye, Mr Tobin.”

  “Good luck to you, Mr Stassen.”

  Tobin retired to his usual table in the public lounge.

  A couple of guys were trying to hit on the bartender.

  “What’s your name, honey?” one asked as he pushed a too-large tip into her jar.

  “Psyche.”

  “Whoa, what kind of parents did you have that they named you Psyche?”

  “Greek scholars.”

  “Speaking of Greek, how about I meet you after your shift?”

  “Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

  “Shit . . . shoulda known with a name like Psyche.”

  She smiled sweetly as they took their drinks and retreated.

  Tobin called her over.

  “So, you’re Psyche tonight? What else are you?”

  “Why, I’m a lesbian bartender who wants to dress her boss like a girl so she can pretend he’s her girlfriend.”

  “Why complicate it with the lesbian angle?”

  “Life’s complicated . . . even a fantasy life . . . otherwise, it wouldn’t be . . . real.”

  Tobin held his head in his hands.