“How about a burger?” he offered after she’d pleasured him vigorously and with a vengeance, ultimately swallowing him down like mother’s milk.
“Yes. Thank you,” she whispered, answering the question he’d asked and nothing more.
“I think you should call me sir,” he decided as she cleaned him with her tongue and put him back reverently into his pants.
Her voice was uneven, but she never wavered. “Yes…sir.”
Trevor leaned back and smiled, feeling like the king of the world. “What do you say, babe? Drive thru or eat in?”
The nude girl trembled visibly, the prospects of either event clearly terrifying her in her present state. “I-I don’t know, sir.”
He laughed, mussing her hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it painless for you…relatively.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Yes, Trevor thought, speed-dialing Blake on the cell. It was good to be the sir. Very good, indeed.
“Hey, amigo,” he rasped, deciding to crow a bit. “Guess who I’m riding with right now…hot, naked, and filled with two of my best loads already? Oh, yea,” he looked over at the red faced girl. “It’s her all right, and she’s every bit the hot piece of ass we imagined. You’ll have to try her out later. Sucks like a champ, too. How’s everything on your end? What?! Wow. Guess I beat you to the punch, for once! Sure, see you, tonight. Excellent. Later, bro.”
Trevor patted her thigh, enjoying the fact he could that or anything else he wanted to Erica from now on without permission. “That was Blake, Sweetheart. He and Mandy are going to be joining us tonight…as soon as he gets a couple of things ironed out.”
Erica looked at him, concern for her friend written all over her face.
“That’s right, baby,” he treated himself to a propriety caress of her left breast. “Mandy the Golden Girl is about to get a dose of the same medicine I just gave you. Now why don’t you just lean back in that seat and give me something good to listen to?”
“Yes,” she reclined the seat, digging her fingers hungrily into her pussy. “Sir.”
***
If Mandy hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she wouldn’t have believed it. There, right in her own dorm room, was her boyfriend getting a blowjob from another girl. And not just any girl, but Brianna Baxley, the obnoxious brunette cheerleading captain, as well as her chief rival on campus.
“B-Blake…” She could hardly spit out his name, she was so totally blown away. It can’t be real, it can’t be happening, she thought. Not to her, not to the only daughter of Wade and Allison Crispin of the Newford, Rhode Island Crispins. “Wha—what’s—what’s…?”
“Hi, Mandy. We’ve been expecting you.”
Her mouth was still hanging open. A minute ago everything had been cool, she’d been coming back from math class thinking how hot she was going to look going out tonight in her calfskin boots, suede skirt and off the shoulder midriff blouse, and now here she was seeing the end of the world: Brianna, in her cheerleading clothes, that slutty ponytailed head bobbing on her boyfriend’s knob, happy as can be.
“Brianna, you total bitch! Get up!”
Blake held her head in place. “Not till she’s done, Mandy. By the way,
you’re going to be skipping cheerleading practice today. We have somewhere to go tonight.”
“I hate you, Blake! I fucking hate you!”
Blake was smirking, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “Okay, Bree, that’s enough.”
The brunette detached herself under duress. “Blake, what’s wrong baby? You said it was cool with Mandy. You said you guys were through.”
“He said what?!”
“Cool it, Mandy,” Blake warned. “And you—get out, now.”
“What’s the matter, Bree?” Mandy hissed at her crestfallen rival. “Cock got your tongue?”
“Y-you said you and me were gonna go steady now,” said Bree. “You said we were here to humiliate Mandy.”
“And that’s exactly what I’ve done, Brianna,” Blake folded his arms, his wet, saliva covered cock still hanging out of the fly of his jeans fully erect. “To both of you.”
Brianna broke into tears, running from the room. Mandy slammed the door in her face, shouting, “Good riddance, bitch!”
Now to deal with Blake.
Flipping back her yellow curls, she tried to make the best of things. “Blake, I know you’re a guy and guys have needs, but…”
“You have five seconds to get over here and take Brianna’s place,” he interrupted, “or I’m going to take you over my knee.”
Mandy laughed in disbelief. “I did not just hear that.”
It was one thing to play sex games late at night, but this was daylight, and if there was anybody who needed to be sucking up it was the cocky quarterback, not her.
“I’m eighteen, Blake Trombley,” she put her hands on her hips. “Not even my Daddy can spank me anymore.”
“I can and I will. And that’s only the beginning. I went somewhere last night, Mandy, and I saw some things, about how it ought to be between us. Me as a male, you as a female. It’s the next logical step, after Pamela and all.”
The blonde stared blankly. “Next step?”
“Sexual slavery,” he spelt it out in black and white. “You, the female, are the property of me, the male.”
Mandy’s heart was thumping like a rabbit’s. She’d read some stories like that and fantasized, and yes, it did turn her on when Blake got all crude and macho with her, but this—this was something else. “Is this a joke, Blake?”
“No, Mandy, it’s not a joke.” He was being patient with her, but also a little bit smug. Maybe a lot smug. “It’s very, very real. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Trev and I already have. We’ve seen girls who do what they’re told, who live to please men, whose total lives are under control. What they eat, what they wear—shit, whether they get to wear clothes at all—all of it decided by their masters.”
Amanda Crispin took a step back, defensively hugging herself as she thought of her new outfit she wanted to wear tonight. “That’s not funny, Blake, not about the clothes.”
“Don’t worry, babe. As long as you look hot, I’ll be happy. We’ll go through your out of school wardrobe; it’ll be okay. I haven’t decided if you’ll be wearing underwear or not. We’ll see how it goes. It’ll be more convenient without, especially when you start turning tricks.”
Mandy collapsed against her dorm room door. This was like a nightmare—one of those dreams inside a dream where you keep thinking you’ve woken up but you haven’t. “You’re scaring me, Blake. Please stop.”
Her weakness only seemed to egg him on. “That’s right, Mandy, we’re gonna play a new game, you me, Trev and Erica. We’re gonna sell your bodies and you’re gonna put out, for whoever we say.” His eyes began to glaze over. He was stroking his cock, getting off on his threats and her increasingly frightened reaction. “Don’t try to run,” he shook his head, looking like he was in a trance. “I can see you’re thinking about it. But that’s not gonna happen and we both know it. This is what you want, too, Mandy. I can see it in you. I can tell when I get rough with you—it makes you twice as wet. Twice as hot. We’re alike, you and me. We need this shit. Don’t make it harder on yourself. If you walk out now, I’ll only track you down. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll take on Brianna. She’d make me a good little lap dog, don’t you think? Then I can just tell everyone how frigid you are, and what a lousy lay. And meanwhile, it’ll be Brianna I’m having—Brianna moaning under my hand, my whip. Brianna, begging me to tie her and chain her, and train her. That’s right, Sweetheart, that’s what I’m going to do. Train a female to be my little collared bitch, my pretty poodle—fucking and prancing on command. Go on, Mandy, run. Kiss your reputation goodbye, kiss me goodbye. Kiss your one chance to see the dark side goodbye. Out, Mandy now!”
Mandy’s head whirled with confusion. She didn’t want this, it made her scared inside, but she didn’t want to los
e Blake. She wanted to please him, and if that meant being his good little pet…well, maybe that was okay. And she was wet now and hot, too, just like he’d said. And if she left, she’d be all alone, no one would like her, not if the quarterback dumped her and if that happened, then she might as well go back home to some sucky public school.
“Wait, Blake, I don’t want to go!”
“I don’t have time. I’m going to come now, on my own. You and me are through.”
She looked in horror as he took one of her Special Kitty pillows to shoot into. “Don’t do that, Blake. Use me—come inside me. Please? I still want to be your girl.”
“I don’t want you, Mandy, you’re too much work. You’re not any use to me.”
“I—I am useful. Please, there must be some way…”
“Prove it to me then, Amanda. Take my load on your body.”
She swallowed hard. The door was holding her up.
“On your tits, Mandy, and your face, all over. Take my jism on your nude body as a sign of good faith and I’ll let you still be my girl.”
Having a boy come on her was gross; something whores did. But she loved Blake and she wanted to make him happy. If this was how he wanted her…
“I’ll give you to the count of ten. Otherwise, I’ll jerk it off in your pillow and walk out that door, forever.”
Amanda yanked off her school jacket and tore at the buttons to her blouse. He was up to three already. There wasn’t time to remove the skirt; she’d have to pray it didn’t get ruined. “Wait, I need more time,” she grappled with her lace bra.
“You have to crawl,” he said, reaching six.
She fell to hands and knees, topless. Scooting as fast as she could, she took up her place between his legs.
“Ten,” he announced, tossing the pillow over his shoulder.
Mandy’s mouth watered at the sight of the monster cock she loved so well. It was going to be difficult for her not to suck it or take it inside her.
“Beg for it,” said Trevor, wrapping his fingers round the shaft. “Beg to be my cum slut. Beg for me to fuck your tits and come all over you.”
“I—I beg you, Blake…”
“Hold your tits together,” he interrupted. “Show me how I can fuck them and then tell me.”
Mandy obliged, proffering herself. “I beg to be your cum slut,” she whispered, feeling more conviction with every syllable. “Please, Blake, use me, make me your whore…mark me with your hot spunk…on my breasts, my face…shove your dick in my cleavage…do it, please…”
Leaning forward, he inserted the warm, pulsing piece of meat, so harsh and grainy compared to smoothly feminine bosom.
“Oh, yeah,” he growled, already at the point of no return. “That’s it my little bitch. Get ready. I’m going to…spray…all over.”
Blake’s face was red. The veins were sticking out. He looked like a man possessed as he took the thing and let loose. The spray was hot and plentiful. Mandy had no idea there was so much of it in a single orgasm. It was like a sperm bath. Holding her tits up for him, she let him decorate her. He wanted it everywhere, her hair and face, her cheeks, her mouth. There was so much of the stuff; gobs of it lofting in her direction, soiling and staining her.
The whole time he just groaned in happiness, totally oblivious to her pleasure, like he was just using her as a blow up sex doll, a grown up fashion doll.
“My skirt,” she yelped when he’d pulled himself free and she’d come to her senses.
“No,” he grabbed her wrist, still lording over the kneeling come-soaked girl. “Don’t touch it. Any of it. It stays where I put it. Just put your blouse back on—no bra. It’s time for our little social engagement.”
Mandy’s lip trembled. “But…someone might…see me.”
“And if they do,” he yanked back her head to look her more fully in the eye, “then what they’ll see is that you belong to me. That I can do whatever I want to you.”
“N-no,” she wailed, seeing her social status flash before her eyes.
“Touch your cunt,” he demanded, “and tell me I’m wrong.”
Mandy slid her hand down. She had no choice. Under her skirt and beneath her panties, it was wet, wetter than she’d ever been in her life. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Blake, please.”
He stuffed her mouth over his cock. “Make it hard first. And hurry up. We don’t want to be late…it will only make your punishment worse.”
Mandy shivered in her subjugation. She was terrified, horrified…and profoundly excited.
In her heart she couldn’t wait for tonight, whatever it might hold in store.
***
It was the end of the school day, and Pamela was beginning to think her life had turned around, returning itself to something normal, spectacular, even, if you counted Tom. For starters, she’d awakened and made it to school without hearing a word from Lorenzo. She was sore and welted and she wasn’t going to sit down comfortably anytime soon, but she’d been able to enjoy her breakfast in peace. It surprised her, actually, how strong she felt. Re-encountering the mysterious man who’d taken her virginity, far from shattering her will, had bolstered it. She saw now that she was no longer a naive girl, and he was no more than a man, a mortal with sexual lusts and aberrations, but not a demon or god. In a way, he’d lain to rest an old ghost by putting a human face on an ancient trauma.
Yes, he’d subjected her to his will all over again; giving her pain she’d not soon forget. Even putting on a bra had hurt this morning and when she saw the whip marks in the mirror she had begun to spasm, needing a cock all over again. But he hadn’t destroyed her spirit. She’d met him, thrust for thrust, given as good as she got. Not a child whore anymore, a shy eighteen-year-old, but a grown woman.
It had even occurred to Pamela that maybe Lorenzo would relent now, that he even he would see she was no longer the simple, naïve submissive she had been. Her lusts—and she had them aplenty—were more complicated than that now, darker and more intricate. Pamela’s Pollyanna notion was only re-enforced by the lack of contact during school. No phone calls all morning, no pages.
She hadn’t seen her student tormentors, either. All four had missed their class and not one of them had showed up in her office all day long. It might be that they’d gotten bored or distracted. Maybe that was too optimistic, but even if they did show up, Pamela had another hope now: namely that she could stand up to them, as she had to the silver haired man and as she intended to with Lorenzo.
After all, she was a grown woman. If she were to turn on her sexuality, and not merely lie back passively, she would blow them all out of the water, send them running with their tails between their legs. It made her laugh to think of it as she sat now in her office chair, hiking up the hem of her button down dress, simple and demure, underneath which, she was entirely naked.
Propping her feet up on the edge of the solid oak surface, she dipped her fingers between her thighs, having undone the first few buttons. Sex was something she used to crave, and she was starting to again. Closing her eyes, leaning back deliciously, she began to fantasize, running through her mind all the sexiest things she could think of. First and foremost there was Tom Rains, whose company she was going to be enjoying again tonight. She’d wanted to see him earlier, but they had to be careful at school, keeping up appearances of professionalism. A sly wink and a close brush in the faculty lounge were all she’d gotten from the man since last night but it was more than enough to keep her motor revved all day.
Having his hands on her body was what she craved most right now, and as she touched herself she imagined it was him, enjoying her flesh, taking his fill of her, wanting her naked and hot and wet, underneath him, or on top or any other possible way they could be in sexual contact. His hands would be firm and she would yield to him at once. She would want him, his lips to kiss her and tease her and to give her orders, too. She wanted that most certainly—to be commanded by this good man whom she knew she could trust not only with her bo
dy but her heart as well.
The liquid began to flow as she imagined him taking her, putting her to his pleasure. He might well use the whip on her naked ass to bring her in line. He might tell her to crawl, command her into position for penetration and if she squirmed too much, or simply for his own pleasure, he might tie her down, putting her into sexual bondage. He need only give the word, snap his fingers and she would surrender. Gladly would she feel his rope burns, the plunging of his ravenous cock, and even the agonizing sting of his instruments of discipline.
A little moan echoed as she hooked the heels of her shoes onto the lip of the desk, sliding them wider for easier access. Greedily, she pushed and tugged at her clitoris, not caring that the juices were pouring out, that her door wasn’t locked, that anyone might walk in any second.
“Knock, knock,” cooed the voice, cruel and taunting.
She froze in mid-stroke. Opening her eyes, she bid them focus on the face she least wanted to see in the world. Clamping her legs together, trapping her own hand, she went on the immediate offensive. “This is private property, Lorenzo. You’re trespassing.”
“So’s that,” he inclined his head in the direction of her hastily shielded crotch. “And I’ll thank you to take your hand out of my cunt right now.”
“I’ll call the police,” she put her hand on the receiver.
“And tell them what?” he plopped himself comfortably on her sofa. “That you’re having a little tiff with your pimp?”
“You’re not my pimp. And this isn’t a tiff. We’re through, Lorenzo. I’m not going to be your little slut anymore. I’ve grown up; that scared little girl of a woman is gone, forever. I didn’t know that yesterday, but I do now. I first saw you and I was overwhelmed, now I’m awake.”
“I agree,” he shook his head, surprisingly. “The Pamela I knew is gone. And you’re correct, we will not be working together any longer.”
She cocked her head. “There’s a catch. There has to be.”
Punishing Pamela Page 13
