Whack! The pain of his slap shot through her. She shrieked and struggled to get up, but the weight of his hand on the back of her neck was too much. “W-w-what?” she asked, “Why? Why did you—aaah!” and another slap landed on her defenceless bottom, and another. She was writhing but he was too strong.
“You’ve been with the Irishman again, haven’t you? Did you have my permission?” and he smacked her again.
“But it was for you… it’s not fair,” she sobbed.
“What did you do with him? Did you suck his cock?”
“No, no—he made me…Ooow!”
She heard the door click open behind her and Darti asked “What you do, Tim?”
“She’s been a bad girl. She’s just going to tell us what she was doing with the Irishman.”
“Oh yes,” she heard Janice say. “She too much bad girl.” What, she thought, even my friends? But I did it for Tim…
“So, tell us. What did you do for the Irishman?”
“He made us take our clothes off and dance.”
“I’m waiting—don’t make me waste my time.”
“And he made me kiss Ranji.”
“I see. Kiss her where?”
“On her… on her… her pussy. He made me do it to her.” Her confession was rewarded by another whack.
“And? Did you like it?”
Sherry searched for the correct answer, anything that would save her poor bottom. “Yes. I made her come.” She cringed, waiting for another blow, but it did not come.
“Very good, and then what?”
“He put it in me from behind while I was licking her.” Whack!
“Put what in you?”
“His cock,” she cried. “He put his cock in me while I was licking Ranji. Oh God—please don’t hit me again.”
“What do you think, girls? I was chained up in a pig pen and she had a Chinese cock up inside her. Is that bad?”
“Very bad,” agreed Darti. “Hit her again.” Sherry could only sob her disappointment.
“No,” said Tim. “I’m tired. You have a go, and Janice. Here, I’ll hold her down.”
At least Darti and Janice were not so strong, but their blows still stung.
“What else has she been doing while I’ve been away?” asked Tim.
“Sherry very bad girl,” she heard Janice say. “She make pom-pom with us.”
“Really? I’m surprised at her. What did she do?”
“She make me come too much—very nice,” explained Darti.
“Yes, she’s good like that. Hit her again.” Darti hit her.
“And she suck my cock,” said Janice. “Very nice cocksucking.”
“Oh, she’s an expert, so I’m told. You were lucky. Give her another two.”
Sherry was past complaining now and sobbed quietly into the mattress. Tim moved to sit beside her and she winced as a dollop of cold cream was spread on her smarting bottom. Then the girls were rubbing the smoothing cream over her sore places and relief flooded over her.
The girls were exploring her, going far beyond her cheeks, stroking her thighs, her hips and lower back, teasing her little star and her pussy. They slipped their fingers into her.
“Look, Sherry very wet,” said Darti. She seemed to be holding a hand out for Tim’s inspection. “I think you take her now.”
Tim moved behind her. Darti and Janice were whispering to each other as they guided him home. He slipped into her easily, filling her completely.
Then Janice was in front of her, spreading her legs and offering her slim cock to be kissed. “Go on,” ordered Tim. “Suck her. Show us how good you can be.” Obediently she sucked the rigid stem into her mouth and was rewarded by a deep sigh from Janice.
Darti was sitting beside her, one arm over her back, and the other reaching under her. Her fingers were probing the join where Tim was embedded in her and searching for Sherry’s clit. She began to rub with a purpose and Tim started to swing in and out in long slow strokes.
“Why?” she asked, before she slipped out of control, “Why?”
Tim chuckled. “Because we love you, silly.”
“Yes, yes,” said Darti. “We all love Sherry too much. Now we make you fly…”
THE END
WWW.JACQUELINEGEORGEWRITER.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Other Titles by Jacqueline George
Light o’Love
The Prince and the Nun
Foreign Affairs
Jacqueline lives in the far north of Queensland, Australia, on the shores of the Coral Sea. She has a house built for the tropical climate--on tall stilts and with walls that open to let the breeze blow through.
She settled in Australia after living with her husband in many countries and cultures, and her travels have given her a fund of stories and locations she uses in her stories. We do not know exactly how far her stories come from her imagination, and how much from experience. She will not tell us but if you visit her website and ask nicely, she might tell you.
Jacqueline writes romantic stories because she is an unrepentant romantic at heart. In a world that is drowning in poverty and violence, she tries to hold up a cheerful light and make everyone's life a little happier. That is a big job, but it is fun to make the attempt and, who knows, it might just work.
When she is not writing, she is kept busy by her garden which is still maturing. Right now her coconut trees look young and scrappy, but come back in five years and they will be towering over the house. And what could be more romantic than a coconut palm?
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Her Master's Voice Page 28
