by Ray Gordon
The situation was ridiculous. All this because I pretended to have a secret word and had a laugh with Barry, she thought. Now he's set me up! And he's spying on me! Again, another side to Barry was coming to light, but what was he up to? 'To hell with it!' she cursed, dashing through the hall and opening the front door to John.
The kitchen, she mused. Might as well give Barry a good view. 'Come through, John, I'll put the kettle on,' she invited, her gown provocatively revealing her full, rounded breasts.
'I hope you don't mind me calling round like this?' he smiled anxiously, following her into the kitchen. 'Only, Barry's call worried me.'
'Worried you - why?'
'First of all he asked me whether I'd been to see you, and then he said that he didn't like you being alone in the house all day. He suggested that, if I had the time, I come and keep you company. In the end he almost begged me to come round.'
'Why didn't you tell me all this when you rang?'
'I suppose I didn't want you thinking that Barry had sent me here to check up on you. Has he always been so concerned about you?'
'No - I can't think why he's suddenly so worried. I wonder what he thinks I get up to?'
Glimpsing Barry hiding in the bushes, Marianne wondered again at his peculiar plan. But the question wouldn't leave her mind. Why? Why set me up with John? If he firmly believed that the word worked, which he did, then what would he gain from catching her red-handed with John? She prayed that John would use the word so that she could discover what was behind Barry's curious plan, apart from sheer madness. Turning to face John, her gown open, revealing her blonde pubes, her pinken slit, she smiled.
'Barry left early this morning, and he probably won't be home until very late. I suppose I do get lonely sometimes,' she said, allowing her gown to fall further apart. 'But I can't think why he's suddenly so concerned about me.'
'Juxtaposition...'
Her face serene, her hands relaxed by her sides, Marianne gazed into space. 'Take your dressing gown off,' John ordered her firmly. Rising to her feet, concealing a wicked grin, she slipped the robe over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. With Barry watching the bizarre proceedings, her submissive obedience, she felt a delightful gush of desire surge through her contracting womb.
'Kneel at my feet,' John ordered. Complying, Marianne was thankful that her naked body was in full view through the backdoor glass. Barry would be watching her every move, she knew as she gazed at John's bulging jeans. 'Undo my belt and pull my jeans down,' her master commanded unashamedly.
John's penis was big, too big, Marianne thought as the rampant organ sprang to life before her wide eyes. The silky-smooth purple plum glistening invitingly, her vaginal juices began to flow as she imagined sucking on the young man's knob, drinking his jetting sperm. She also imagined Barry bursting in through the backdoor and throwing a fit!
'Before we go any further,' John murmured pensively, 'stand up and find me something to tie your hands with.' Marianne rose to her feet and glanced around the room, her stomach somersaulting at the prospect of bondage. Taking one of Barry's ties from the pile of washing, she passed it to her master. Standing compliantly with her hands behind her back, she allowed him to tie her wrists together.
'Now, on your knees again - slave!' he ordered excitedly.
His hard penis wavering before her wide eyes, she opened her full red lips, following John's orders and engulfing his hard knob within the moist heat of her mouth. John sighed as Marianne swept her tongue over his smooth glans, causing his penis to balloon and twitch. Her juices flowing freely from her hot hole and coursing down her inner thighs, she mouthed and sucked fervently, delighting at the prospect of drinking John's gushing sperm while Barry watched.
Wondering when Barry would make his dramatic entrance, bounding through the back door and exploding with rage like a madman, she sensed an incredible feeling of complete and utter submission. She was John's slave! Her hands tied behind her naked body, kneeling before her master, sucking his solid knob - she was his sex slave!
Was she discovering another side to herself? she wondered. Was having her hands tied, her body crudely violated, a latent inner desire she'd unknowingly harboured? As she sucked on and mouthed the twitching knob so impertinently forced upon her, she felt a terrific pang of depraved sexual excitement rock her womb. This was to be her role in life, she knew. From now on, to play the part of a slave - a sex slave - was her role.
'Lick my balls,' John ordered. 'Lick my shaft and my balls.' Marianne swept her tongue over his hairy balls, watching as his penis jerked and his knob swelled. Running her tongue up his veined shaft, she desperately wanted to engulf his knob in her mouth, to drink his jetting sperm. Giving in to her passionate desire and sucking his glans into her mouth, she breathed heavily through her nose. 'No, don't do that,' he reprimanded. 'You'll do exactly as I say, when I say. Now, lick my balls.'
Slipping his glans from her mouth, Marianne wondered at her new role of sex slave. Licking her master's heavy balls, she realized the immense pleasure gained from playing the submissive role. 'Lick all over,' he demanded. Her tongue dutifully licking, wetting his rolling balls, his veined shaft, she closed her eyes. She felt completely in his power, totally under his control. She had relinquished all responsibility, as far as John and Barry were concerned, anyway. The guiltless feeling, the sense of total freedom, brought her a strange sense of satisfaction, gratification. She was under orders, at the mercy of her master. Now her sense of being in control had gone.
'Now lick my knob. Don't suck it, just lick it.' Snaking her tongue around his throbbing purple glans, she prayed for his spunk to gush. 'Lick all over my knob,' he cried as his sperm jetted, splattering her blonde hair, her pretty face and running down her chin. 'Now! Now! Suck it now!'
Moaning through her nose, she took his pulsating knob into her mouth and sucked as his come filled her cheeks. Salty, the aphrodisiacal nectar aroused her, made her clitoris swell. 'Ah, that's good! Keep... keep sucking!' His knees sagging, John held Marianne's head, thrusting his throbbing shaft deep into her hot mouth, draining his heavy balls until, shuddering and gasping, he finally pulled away.
His spent penis glistening, hanging half-erect before Marianne's eyes, she wondered whether her sex session was over or not, and why Barry hadn't burst in. Perhaps he's enjoying this? she wondered, catching a glimpse of her boyfriend as he peered out from the bushes.
'Stand up and bend over the table,' John ordered as he pulled his jeans up, completely unaware of his audience. Marianne complied, bending over the table with her hands tied behind her back, her feet apart, her bottom-crease yawning. The view from the back garden would be perfect, she was only too aware as she jutted her buttocks and parted her feet even further, displaying her tightly closed anal-ring, her wet, glistening vaginal lips.
But why hadn't Barry made his entrance? So jealous, so possessive, she'd imagined that he'd have come bounding in the minute she'd slipped her gown off and knelt before John's stiff penis. What the hell was he playing at?
'And now for your punishment for disobeying my instructions, you dirty little whore!' John bellowed, rolling up a tea towel. Whipping her taut buttocks with the towel, he administered his punishment, causing the whimpering girl's body to jolt, her buttocks to tense, her tears to stream. 'Your errors need correcting, my girl,' he warned. 'If you're to be my sex slave you'll have to mend your ways.' Was Barry into bondage and whipping? she wondered as her taut flesh burned, stinging with every lash.
Biting her lip as he discarded the towel and parted her crimson buttocks, Marianne imagined him entering her there, sliding his huge tool into her and fucking her velveteen bottom-sheath.
His fingertip caressing the sensitive tissue surrounding the portal to her bowels, Marianne gasped with the electrifying sensations. But what was Barry up to? she wondered again as John's finger invaded the privacy of her bottom. What the hell was Barry thinking? Massaging her inner anal flesh, John groped between her legs w
ith his other hand and slipped two fingers between her swollen cunt lips and deep into her drenched vagina.
'Ah, ah, God!' she cried involuntarily as her sheaths tremored, tightening around John's massaging fingers. Her face resting on the pine tabletop, her mouth open, gasping, the very centre of her femininity crudely pillaged, she'd never known such sexual pleasure, such beautiful abandonment.
'You like having my finger up your bum, don't you?' John asked in his rising wickedness, stretching her tight hole open and delving further into her anal tube.
'Yes, yes, I love it!' Her words of confession fell from her full red lips as she quivered and writhed on the table.
'Ever had a cock up there?' John persisted in his ever-increasing quest for lust.
'No, I've never had a...'
'Do you want my cock up your tight arse? Do you want me to fuck your tight arse?'
Her body alive with lust, Marianne desperately wanted John to use her there, to fill her tight anal tube with his throbbing penis and fuck her - fill her bowels with his sperm. But she didn't reply. She was the submissive slave following orders, not begging for this or agreeing to that. As his finger delved deeper into her bottom-hole, bringing her electrifying sensations of depraved sex, she almost gave in and pleaded for him to thrust his penis deep into her bowels and fill her with sperm.
'Well, do you want my cock up your arse?' he repeated.
'I... I...'
'Whether you want it or not, you're going to get it!' he chortled, slipping his finger from her hot, tight hole.
Turning her head to one side, Marianne gazed though slitted eyes towards Barry, lurking behind the bushes, spying. What was he thinking now? What was his plan? Was he masturbating? she wondered, recalling his confession. Was he delighting in watching his girlfriend endure sexual abuse at the hands of another man as he wanked himself off in the bushes? If this was Barry's darker side, then he had severe problems, she concluded as she felt John's solid knob stab between her splayed bottom-cheeks.
'You're going to enjoy this,' John sniggered as he pressed his purple plum past her yielding anal sphincter. 'You're going to love this, you dirty little whore. I know I am!'
Gasping as her virginal hole was stretched wide to accommodate her master's bulbous knob, Marianne grimaced. A finger was one thing, she thought apprehensively, but a massive male organ? As inch by inch of solid flesh pole drove into the hot depths of her bowels, she lost her senses, tossing her head, whimpering, gasping for more.
Grabbing her hips, John began his fucking, driving his shaft deep into her rectum and withdrawing only to impale her again on his massive organ. Grunting expletives with every thrust, he finally rammed his penis in to the hilt. 'God, I'm coming already!' he gasped as his sperm discharged from his weapon-head. Marianne could feel the male come lubricating her anal cylinder, filling her velveteen sheath. 'God, you've a tight arse!' he praised her as he withdrew and thrust deep into her again with alarming vigour.
As the flow of semen ceased and John stilled his pistoning cock, Marianne squeezed her eyes shut. Desperate for her hands to be released now, she prayed that her beautiful ordeal was finally over. Her bottom-hole felt painfully bloated, her pelvis strangely inflated, and she wondered at her wanton act of depravity - her complete loss of morality.
Sobbing with pleasure as John slowly withdrew his weapon, Marianne glimpsed Barry again. He'd set her up with John, used her. But what had become of his raging jealousy? He seemed to change with the wind, she mused as she was ordered to stand up. As John released her hands and helped her into her gown, she decided to finish with Barry. With John and Jill knowing about her magical word, she'd not be short of company - or a rampant and fulfilling sex life.
'Sit at the table and wake up,' John ordered.
'Oh, I feel strange!' she cried as she sat down and looked up at John.
'Strange? How... how do you mean?' he asked nervously.
'I don't know. I feel... Oh, never mind. As I was saying, I can't think why Barry's suddenly so concerned about me being alone in the house.'
'No, neither can I. Look, I'd better be going - I've just remembered that I'd promised to help a friend with... I'll call round to see you again - if you want me to, that is?'
'Yes, please do. It's been nice seeing you, John. I'm in most mornings so...' God, what am I suggesting? 'Yes, come round again.'
'I will. I'll see myself out. Bye.'
'Bye John - and, please, do come again.'
Wandering out into the garden, her bottom-hole wet, her buttocks sore, Marianne walked across the lawn towards Barry's hide. Wondering whether to pretend to suddenly discover him, to ask him what he was doing, she turned and made for the house. He'd come in by the front door and question her, she was sure as she closed the back door. There was no way he'd be able to refrain from questioning her, but what about? He could hardly confront her.
As she'd predicted, Barry arrived by the front door and breezed into the kitchen. 'Hallo, love,' he smiled. 'I've an hour or so between clients so I thought I'd come home.'
'I'm pleased you did,' she replied. 'God, is that the time? I had no idea. I'm not even dressed yet! Where on earth has the time gone?'
'Time flies when you're enjoying yourself,' he quipped, with a hint of sarcasm, she decided.
'But I've only been... What have I been doing all this time?'
'You must have gone back to sleep. Anyway, how do you feel?'
'How do I feel? How do I feel about what?'
'How do you feel about... Juxtaposition.'
Ah, now I might learn something, she thought as Barry asked her to remove her gown and stand naked before him. 'I was watching you from the garden,' he began. His voice was stern, accusing. 'I watched you sucking John's knob, you filthy little tart. I saw John whipping you and fucking your arse. Did you like it, Marianne? Tell me, are you really such a whore that you enjoy having another man fuck your arse?'
Frozen to the spot, Marianne couldn't believe Barry's words, his condemning words. He'd been the one who'd set her up, she thought angrily. What the hell was he playing at by accusing her of whoredom? But, she reflected, this was his jealousy surfacing. He was so jealous that he'd lost all reason. No doubt he regretted setting her up and was now trying to blame her for his mistake.
'I quite enjoyed watching you,' he continued. 'In fact, I've never been so turned on in all my life. Watching my supposedly loving, faithful girlfriend swallowing sperm from another man's cock was a bloody good turn-on! The thought of you going with someone else has always sickened me, but when I actually watched you... Funny thing, jealousy. The very idea of you with another man has always... Anyway, it's given me an idea. I've decided to... No, there's little point in telling you anything while you're hypnotized. Bend over the table, as you did for John, and open your buttocks for me. I want you to act like the filthy little tart that you really are.'
Taking her position, Marianne reached behind her quivering body and splayed her crimson bottom-orbs with her slender fingers, opening the sperm-drenched entrance of her anal sheath to her boyfriend's appreciative gaze.
'Don't mind if I fuck you there too, do you?' he asked as she sensed his solid knob pressing against her wet flesh. 'After all, being the filthy, two-timing whore that you are, that's what your holes are for - for fucking! Now, hold on to the table because you're about to be fucked as you've never been fucked in your entire life.'
Marianne didn't understand Barry's thinking, his logic, or lack of it. But worse, she wondered about the future, her future if she were to stay with him. Having decided to end the relationship, she was now in two minds again. She'd enjoyed Barry watching as John had used and abused her body. She'd enjoyed the experience so much that she didn't want to put an end to the games. But would Barry stop there? Would he bring men home and sit and watch as they fucked her? Would he fall deeper and deeper into his murky well of voyeurism until he drowned in his own vileness? Where will it all end? she wondered as she felt his huge shaft dri
ve into her already stretched and inflamed rectal sheath.
'Ah, God! I should have done this to you ages ago!' he cried as he drove his weapon in to the hilt, her tight ring painfully gripping the broad root of his penis. 'I'll invite John round again this evening. Yes, I'll get him round and then I'll pretend to go out. Perhaps I could set up a hiding place somewhere inside this time. That's it!' he laughed as he withdrew his shaft and crudely impaled her again. 'That's it; I'll spy on you from the dining room, through the serving hatch.'
Marianne sensed her clitoris swelling at the thought of Barry watching again as John fucked her, ordered her to suck his knob and drink his sperm - as he bound her wrists and whipped her naked buttocks. 'Ah, ah!' she cried as Barry grabbed her hips and thrust into her with such force that the table glided across the floor. 'Ah, no! No, it...'
'Shut up, tart! This is only the beginning of your new life! You've no idea what I have planned for you, no idea at all!'
Praying that Barry would quickly discharge his sperm and withdraw his massive cock from her sore duct, Marianne squeezed her blue eyes shut, wondering what the hell had happened to her life, her warm, loving, cosy relationship. Barry was, indeed, a monster - but she was beginning to crave the cold, crude perverted sex. She was even beginning to pray that he'd bring several men to the house to simultaneously use and abuse her.
Suddenly picturing Barry screwing another woman, shafting another woman to orgasm with his hard penis, Marianne wondered not only where his love for her had gone, but her love for him. The love had been transformed into cold lust, she concluded, wondering now if they'd ever shared real love at all.
'Your arse is so tight,' Barry gasped as his climax neared. 'Christ, it's so... so fucking tight!'
Marianne shuddered as the beginnings of her own orgasm stirred within her swirling womb. Reaching between her thighs, she massaged her neglected clitoris, whimpering as Barry's body suddenly became rigid and his sperm gushed.
