by Zade, Chera
“You like getting fucked, don’t you?” the Major asked, yanking my head back by the hair so he could see my face while he pounded into me.
“Oh, God,” was all I said, my eyes fluttering closed at way his cock seemed to press in all the right places on the upstroke, as if driving me toward completion. I wanted to touch him. Undress him. Run my fingers under his shirt and feel his skin, but first…
“You’re going to come for me,” Major Anderson said, panting a bit as he put his back into fucking me harder. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes!” I screamed.
Then I screamed it ten more times as the orgasm exploded through me, setting off burst after burst through my womb, my belly, my breasts…
So caught up was I in the overwhelming feeling of my body convulsing around his cock, as if it were the whole purpose of my existence, I was almost deaf to the cheers of the soldiers now crowded in the doorway to watch. Not deaf at all, however, to the grunts that came from my lover as he spasmed and jerked his seed deep into me.
He held me down hard by the waist, then pressed me back to the butcher block as if he was afraid I might get up and run—or was determined to make me a receptacle for every last drop.
The warmth of his seed was both soothing to the pain between my legs, but also, a terrifying reminder of what I’d just done. What I’d risked. I knew a child could come of this. I knew it. But he knew it too. Perhaps that’s why he said, “Now then, who else would like a turn with her?”
~~~
“No!” I cried, though I was throbbing with my lingering climax. Tears flooded my eyes. “This wasn’t what I agreed—”
“This is exactly what you agreed to,” Major Anderson said, without the slightest bit of contempt or hostility in his voice. Only firmness. “I told you that I’d ask you to perform certain acts for me and that I’d expect your obedience. This is our first test of that. Besides, it’s for your own good.”
“My good?” I shouted, beating on his chest, trying to make him let me up.
“Of course,” he replied, easily pinning me down. If he was panting, it was only because he had just finished fucking me. Not because it took much effort to restrain me under his steely arms. “I asked you if it was me you wanted or just any man. You said you didn’t know. I said that we’d get to the bottom of it. So we shall. Trust me when I say that it’ll be better for you to be overwhelmed with new sensation than to feel the soreness that comes of having lost your virginity. Besides…you liked it that my men were watching you. That they want you. I felt you get wetter every time you heard them cheer.”
“No!” I cried, in denial, but it was true. And at the sight of them, all of them, feasting hungry eyes on my body, I felt renewed hunger that I wouldn’t thought myself capable of.
I didn’t really know these men, and what I knew of them, I didn’t like. They were English soldiers. Some of them officers, but most of them not. They were all shaved, and one had his back against the wall, his eye wide with something that might have been fascinated fright, but the rest were rough looking fellows. And I was afraid to be touched by any of them, much less all of them.
So why did that make me want them more?
“What’s your given name?” Major Anderson asked me, withdrawing from my body, then softly stroking between my legs, as if to gentle a spooked stallion. I was wet and sticky, both with my own desire and his flood of seed. And I was fascinated by the feel of him trailing it down my thigh.
Then I realized the question he’d just asked me and was overcome with shame! Christ, he didn’t know my name. He’d taken my maidenhead in a wicked and sinful manner, made cheaper and more tawdry by the fact that he didn’t know my name nor did he need to know it.
“Sorcha,” I whispered, tears on my lashes from the humiliation.
“Well now, my dear Sorcha. I’d like you to service my men. As many as you’re able. And if I have gauged you correctly, you will do me proud by taking them all. But why don’t you choose two to start with?”
If I’d been humiliated before, I was twice as much now. How could I choose? I couldn’t. I shook my head, not even daring to look at these men. “Choose for me,” I said, turning my head in a way that he must have known was surrender.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to know which man would have me next.
But Major Anderson seemed intent upon an improper introduction. “Spread your thighs wide for Captain Howard, my dear and give him a little kiss.”
Captain Howard stepped forward with a wide and lusty grin. When he bent forward for a kiss, he tasted of grog and his chin was a bit stubbly. But when I spread my thighs for him, I was rewarded not with pain, but with a surprising pleasure as he slipped the dripping purple head of his cock over my slit in such a way as to make me moan.
Another surprise was that my reaction delighted the Major, who squeezed my hand. It also encouraged the men, who all began to chant encouragements to the captain. “Give it to her hard, Captain Howard. The curvy wench can obviously take it.”
“Get the dress off her, I want to see her tits when you fuck her.”
These and a hundred other things were shouted as the men crowded into the small kitchen to watch. Leaning over me, one hand upon my waist, the other upon the table, the captain nudged his thick member against my opening.
No, no, no, I thought with a shake of my head. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be allowing it. It wasn’t enough sin that I’d given my maidenhead to a man who wasn’t my husband. Wasn’t wicked enough that I did it while English soldiers stood around and cheered. No. I was to take another lover. And not in a year, or a month, or even a day…but within moments.
The captain gave a push, filling me, slowly, with his cock. And as I felt my first lover’s semen leak out around the base of this new prick and the sensation was not only the most wicked thing I ever felt, but possibly the most exciting.
Dear God, was I a natural born whore and never knew it?
I exhaled sharply, my hips rising to meet his, encouraging him to fuck me with his thick cock. Which is exactly what he did. Hard, and fast, as much for the entertainment of the other men as for his own pleasure, or mine, I think. And though it was beyond my comprehension to understand…that was exactly what my body seemed to crave.
A wave of need licked upon the shore of my belly, my thighs, my breasts. And I began to moan with every stroke. The intensity of the waves inside me grew stronger, churning, and tugging away the sands of my resistance until I thought I might climax again.
But I couldn’t allow that. I couldn’t risk angering the major. And so I thrashed my head from side to side, trying to hold back the pleasure as the captain hunched over me and put his back into thrusting in and out.
The effort cost me. I became breathless, until I feared I might be smothered under my stays. “Help her with her bodice,” the major said, and one of the younger men came forward to unfasten it. But they didn’t have me stripped down to my small clothes until after the captain let out a ferocious howl, grimacing in his ecstasy as he pumped the leavings of his pleasure between my thighs.
He finished pounding me just moments before the dam would have burst inside me, and I would have joined him in his release. Which meant that by the time he withdrew his softening prick from my body, I might have been more filled with lust and carnal hunger than any of the men.
Perhaps that’s why when the major asked, “Who will go next?”
I felt relief and curiosity, more than shame. I lost control of myself utterly. Lost the thread of any thought inside my head except one. That I needed to be fucked. And I didn’t care who did it!
They turned me over. Countless hands groping at me. I felt fingers explore my nipples, the small of my back, my hips, and rump. I was positioned forward onto the table, my feet on the floor, my bottom angled upward for easy access to whatever man would have me.
And I didn’t know who had me next. I never saw his face. I did see his arms, though, which were scarred and
hairy. All I know is that the captain’s semen trickled down my inner thigh when this new man shoved into me, and that his member wasn’t nearly as filling as the captain’s had been.
In fact, it was entirely unfulfilling!
Whoever he was, he moved in a jerky way, without any rhythm that might have helped me find my release. Of their own accord, my hips began to grind down upon the table, desperate as I was for something to touch my cunt, even if it was the hard wooden edge.
I might have brought myself off this way—no matter the shame of it!—if the man was not so clumsy in banging me from behind.
Major Anderson had told me that he’d take my mouth—now he aimed to prove it. Standing near to my head while I was pumped from behind, he presented me with his hardening cock—which he had somehow washed clean of my virgin’s blood. “Give it a kiss, my dear. Become well-acquainted.”
I loved the look of it. The broad head of it, the swelling veins as I bent to press my lips to his thick shaft. It was warm, and jumped slightly at my kiss. And that was wonderful too. “Now open your mouth,” he instructed. “And be sure to keep your teeth from scratching down the length of me.”
With that, he inserted himself between my lips and I inhaled the musky scent of him that smelled also a bit like me. He filled my mouth completely, forcing me to suck in air through flared nostrils.
Then it was happening to me from both ends. The man behind me pushed into my cunt just as the major withdrew, and the major thrust into my mouth as the other man pulled out. I was jostled between them, back and forth, worked upon as I never had imagined a body could be worked. My breasts aching for touch, my nipples so hard they hurt as I slid across the wood table—sawed at both ends.
I know now that the major was quite restrained with me. He could’ve shoved himself into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag. He could have yanked upon my hair and brutally face-fucked me. But because he wanted to teach me how it was done, he merely guided me by the hair, his fist wrapped tight in it. And he stared down at me while he did it, holding me the way he wished, so that I felt every stroke.
Major Anderson liked it. He liked it very much, I knew, because I could hear the hum of pleasure-soaked noises rumbling from his chest. He must have seen, in my face, how tormented I was. How my body was soaked in pleasure, and yet denied release. Because when the man behind me gave an animal snort, and began flooding my channel with his hot seed, the major stopped and said, “Now then, lass, you’ve been fucked, but haven’t learned to do any fucking. The next man, you’re going to straddle, face to face, like a tender lover. So pick the man whose cock you’re going to come on next.”
He wanted me to come. What a relief that was, because I wanted it even more. But it was maddening to have to choose. How should I know? Glancing out over the men, my eyes lit upon the young soldier who had been standing with his back to the wall, slowly stroking himself in his breeches.
He’d been too shy to show his cock to the others. Perhaps he was a virgin, too, I thought. Which decided me. I wanted him. All at once, I wanted him very much. “That one,” I said, pointing, even as my cheeks flamed hotter than I thought they could. But I was burning, all of me burning with lost.
Lost in a fever sweat of sin.
“Branson,” the major snapped, hauling me up and holding me upright. Good thing, too, because my knees were too weak to do the job. “If you want to sample my lovely Sorcha, get on the table. On your back, and let her straddle you.”
The young man named Branson flamed red from head to toe, but he moved swiftly to the table where indicated, laying back and finally undoing his breeches. “That’s a good lad,” the major said. “It’s past time you finally get a taste of quim!”
The others laughed, and some chanted, “Branson! Branson!”
Then the major lifted me so that my knees were on either side of young Branson’s hips, and I stared down at what was, quite plainly, the most appealing sex organ in the bunch. Branson’s cock was tall and nicely flanged with a curve to it that I feared might make difficult to fit inside me.
But oh, how wrong I was.
“Take it in your hand and stroke it,” the major instructed, like a devil on my shoulder. “Then guide it inside you…”
The warm, velvety feel of young Branson’s cock in my hand was endlessly fascinating. Especially as it did nothing to disguise the steel underneath. And when I felt the young man reach up to caress my breasts with a trembling hand, I felt as if Branson possibly wanted me more than any man ever had.
Which made me want him right back.
My body seemed to know just what to do. With one palm pressed flat to his chest, I kept my balance and worked his cock into my entrance. Then, with a sigh, I lowered down onto him. Oh. Oh!
I hadn’t expected for it to feel quite so wonderful to deflower a man. The way he hissed at the feel of a woman’s wetness on his sex for the first time sent a renewed burst of delight through me. And the way he curved touched a place inside me that felt so good my toes curled.
When I moaned of it, Branson moaned too, as if tortured.
“Don’t tease the lad, Sorcha!” the major said, with a smack to my bared ass.
Like a horse spurred on by the bite of a lash, my hips suddenly bolted. And I began to ride the young man. Ride him hard. Ride him in a way that made no sense to me whatsoever. I’d never done such a thing before, but I was so desperate that I moved in a way that felt outrageously good.
Branson pulled me down, to capture my mouth in a kiss. The same mouth that had been servicing his major’s cock moments before. Perhaps he forgot. Or perhaps he didn’t care. How could any of us care, locked in such carnality?
I tasted the sweat on his lip, heard the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and felt the scrape of his shirt under my breasts. I wished that we were both naked so that I might know what that felt like too.
So absorbed was I in the nature of what I was doing, I hadn’t even noticed that the major moved behind us. Using something from my kitchen—was it butter? Was it oil?—he slicked my bottom, then pressed his fingers to my nether passage, a place no one had ever touched before.
I stiffened, squealing a bit, but he gentled me with a hand on my back. “I told you that I’d take you here too,” the major reminded me. “It will feel much better to you if I do it now, while you are so close to coming already, and while I have Branson’s able assistance…”
My thighs were tight and sore from the way I’d been riding the man beneath me, and I was as winded as if I’d run all the way to market and back. I hadn’t the strength to stop Major Anderson if I’d wanted to. But my mind was far too pleasure-soaked to want anything but he wanted now.
I let him still my hips and place a few soft slaps upon my bottom before taking the cock he’d hardened again in my mouth, and pressed it between the cheeks of my arse. “Oh, God,” I groaned into Branson’s kiss, not sure what I should make of the pressure.
Then I began to pant, with panic, as the major prodded himself an inch into the passage between the cheeks of my arse. It felt wrong. Very wrong! It would never fit. I was sure to be split in two!
“Hold her,” the major instructed, as I began to writhe in an attempt to get away. But there was no getting away. Not as my body convulsed and writhed at the shock of the violation. It was too tight, and though the major took it slowly, it hurt terribly. Much more terribly than when he’d torn my maidenhead.
Then I felt the most peculiar sensation of my life…the feel of two cocks pulsing in my body, near enough to one another to touch, separated only by my body. And the sheer depravity of being buggered made me scream…not with pain, but with something like pleasure, only sharper.
The major drove in to the hilt when I screamed, and then I was stuffed so tight with men I didn’t believe it. They had me trapped between their bodies. Branson making soothing sounds to me as his cock throbbed in my cunt and the major’s hot breath on the back of my neck as his thighs touched the backs of mine. “N
ow you’ve been taken in all three holes, my dear. How do you like it?”
“I don’t!” I cried.
But my sex disagreed. It was already sopping with the seed of the men, but now it flooded with my own wetness. And as I wriggled upon Branson, then pushed back upon the major, stars began to fill my vision. Breathing so fast, I was sure I was going to swoon away…
“Yes, you do like it,” the major assured me. “I feel it. Fuck him, Sorcha. And get fucked. What do you want?”
“I want you to stop,” I cried, but we both knew it was a lie.
I was rewarded with a slap on the ass for the dishonesty.
“The truth now,” he said, stroking into my arse smoothly and slowly. “What do you want?”
“I want..I want…I want to come,” I admitted, with a sob.
“I believe we can accommodate you,” the major said, angling me such that I found myself clenching on young Branson’s cock, my arms and legs trembling as I took my pounding from behind.
Then a soldier whose face I never saw stepped forward, his long, narrower member erect at my cheek, demanding of its own accord to be taken into my most intimate kiss. And I didn’t ask. I didn’t think. I just took him.
Three cocks. I was filled in every hole. And as I hungrily sucked and fucked all three men, my mind went somewhere else. I became someone else. The taste and smell of sex filled the kitchen. Groans and grunts and cheers all melted together. I cried and trembled and made sounds that no lady should ever make.
And when I let the cock from my mouth slip only for a moment, it was to breathe the word, “More!”
“Oh, you insatiable little slut,” the major said, thrusting harder up into my poor abused arse. And two men stepped to either side of me, eager to oblige. I took them in my hands. Three cocks in my body, I stroked two others—one of which spurted thick sticky fluid onto my hand almost at once.
And then the man in my mouth held my hair tightly as he flooded a warm rush of semen to the back of my throat. I started to gag, but gulped it quickly to keep from choking. And as I did, I thought of what a sight I must be. What if my father were to come home just then from his outing and come into the kitchen to see me whoring not just to one men, but to five or more? The thought brought so much hot shame to me that I began to sob.
