by Paul Blades
The other maid came back with the empanadas and the men interrupted everything to dig into them. The man getting the blow job halted the girl’s performance long enough to grab one and then, giving her head a rough slap, told her to get back to work. One was passed to Lorenzo, which he took in his right hand, keeping his left buried in Carly’s quim.
One of the men, a heavyset, mean looking man, gave the 2nd maid an order and she quickly lifted her skirt and pulled her dress off over her head. She had heavy, plump breasts. The man called her over and flipped her over his knees. He made her spread her legs and he delved into her pussy from behind.
After the empanadas came more drinking and the circulation of another joint. Lorenzo forced Carly to partake of both. As it was, she had no objection . But when the joint passed from her lips and she gave out a long exhale of bluish greysmoke, she leaned back and closed her eyes. The hand had kept at its work the whole time and she felt obliged now, her body seemingly floating, her head adrift, to surrender to it. That moan she had been suppressing came wriggling up and she released it. The noise and the smoke and the men’s laughter and other outbursts all faded into the background. The hand, just the hand, absorbed all of her consciousness. Lorenzo had finished his snack and his right hand, smeared with grease, began to play with her breasts.
Her moan had not gone unnoticed. “You’re a real slut, Zorrita,” he told her. “Your pussy is a gushing mess. You’re going to enjoy being our little fuck doggie, I think.”
Carly ignored the taunts. Nothing was more important than the hand and that it keep going. The fingers began to flick at her stiffened, eager clit. A wave of enticing pleasure went through her and she moaned again. Her mind went to the other people around, the maids, the men, and the fact that her lasciviousness was being so boldly displayed before them, but that thought quickly faded as Lorenzo began thrusting his fingers inside her once again while his thumb continued to worry her clit.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” she moaned. Her body was hot and sweaty. Lorenzo’s right hand kept squeezing and massaging her breasts. That feeling was coming. It was rising within her. 19 years of modesty and self-respect and convention told her that she should be squirming and fighting off the man’s caresses, that it was, as Lorenzo had said, whorish of her to take her pleasure so easily this way. But she was in the grip of a terrible need. “Don’t listen! Don’t listen!” the voice inside her insisted. “Don’t listen to those voices from the past. It is I who rule you now! Spread your thighs, lift your hips, let your lusts blossom and bloom! It’s coming! It’s coming! You know you want it! You know you need it! Give in! Give in!”
Carly did as the voice commanded. She spread her thighs wider and pushed her hips up against the hand. She moaned and sighed. She squirmed her hips. It was coming! It was coming! She could feel it coming! “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she moaned.
Lorenzo said something to his men. Carly heard the word perrita and coño and she knew that he was talking about her. He was calling attention to her, to her sluttishness, to her whorishness. For a moment, the forces of culture and decency and rectitude began to well up inside her and she began a desultory attempt at rebellion. She tried to sit up and close her knees, but Lorenzo’s right arm held her down and his left kept her knees spread. Then that feeling of immediacy, of torridness, of passion and desperate desire came welling up in her. The forces of rebellion fled. Her knees spread again, her lips were open, her body seemed too heavy to lift.
“¡Aya, muchachos!” she heard Lorenzo call out. “¡Mira y escucha!” And to Carly he said, “¡Vamos perrita, danos a todos nosotros un buen espectáculo! ¡Déjame oírte ladrar agradable y fuerte cuando vengas! Give us a big bark when you come! Give us a big show!”
A stab of misery went through her at the same instant as her pussy erupted into convulsion. It washed her self-consciousness away like a tiny boat before a storm.
“Yarp!” she yelled. “Yarp! Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!” and she moaned and her hips rotated and pressed up against the hand. It was rubbing her clit madly and Lorenzo was calling into her ear, “¡Vamos perrita! ¡Fuerte! ¡Mas fuerte! ¡Ladra! ¡Ladra fuerte!”
“Louder! Bark louder!” he was saying. She responded, “Yarp! Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!” She could hear the men laughing and calling out. “They are watching! They are watching!” she told herself, but her pussy’s convulsions went on and on and she continued to bark and squirm and rejoice in the fierce jolts of pleasure her it was sending her.
Lorenzo gave out a heavy grunt and, without warning, lifted her off of his lap and dumped her on the large, square coffee table. Glasses and ashtrays and the large white ceramic plate that had held the empanadas went flying. Carly fell to her belly, her hands splayed out in front for support and she released a cry of surprise. A second later, Lorenzo’s large hands grabbed her hips and pulled her up to her knees.
“¡Abre tus piernas!” Lorenzo called out. Carly was too stupefied to react and she received two powerful blows to her rear cheeks, causing her to shriek.
“Spread your legs, coño!” he shouted. “Or I’ll get out my whip!”
Carly recovered her senses quickly and spread her bound up thighs. She felt the man’s hand press against her mushy quim and two thick fingers enter her and begin to move in and out rapidly.
“Don’t go off the boil, perrita! We’ve got some fucking to do!” he snarled. A few moments later, having freed his substantial appendage from its cave, he withdrew his sawing fingers and Carly felt his bulk press up against her pussy. He aligned it properly with one hand while he held her hip steady with the other. She felt her pussy walls expanded as the thick protuberance slid its way slowly into her canal. Lorenzo sighed loudly as he seated himself to his hilt. He said something to the other men and issued a raucous laugh. The other men joined in. He gave Carly’s right buttock a vicious slap making Carly squeal again.
“Here we go Zorrita!” he called out. “You better give me a good fuck or I’ll turn you over to my friend Manuel for the night. They don’t call him el Burro for nothing. He’ll make you sorry you were ever born. So squeeze that coño of yours and fuck me back like the perrita sucia that you are!”
Carly’s head was swimming from the tequila and the joints she had smoked. The blaring of the violent drama on the TV, the laughs and shouts of the other men in the room amplified the slippage of her cognition. Lorenzo’s booming voice seemed to come from some demon floating above her. His hands were hot on her hips and, when he began his motions, his cock scraped directly across her still stiffened clit, sending a trill of lust all through her. A cloud passed over her eyes and her body’s lusts slipped right into gear. She really didn’t need any compulsion to fuck back at her sadistic master and her pussy squeezed tightly the thick intruder traversing her canal of its own volition.
Lorenzo was not in the mood for a leisurely fuck. He began giving her pussy rough hard thrusts, growling and snarling his pleasures. His hands had tight grips on her hips and he pulled and pushed at them to complement his virulent thrusts. Waves of harrowing delight swept through her. She started moaning and grunting. She was propped up on her elbows and her floppy ears kept swinging back and forth.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrgh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhrgh! Ohhhhhhhhhhrrrgh!” she moaned. Her lusts, not ever having fully subsided, came rushing back. A small voice inside her was issuing little squeals of protest. “He’s fucking me! He’s fucking me! Everybody’s watching! Everybody’s watching!”
But the other voice, the voice that ruled her, quickly and easily suppressed the other, the one from the old Carly, the one from before when that man had unleashed her inner demon. “Ohhhhhhhhh, that’s good! That’s good! That’s soooooooooo goooooooood! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” it yelled.
Like a gorgon rising from the ocean’s depths her climax began to loom over her. It was like some primitive claw had reached deep down into her and was dredging up a prehistoric morass of baseness, a conglomeration of fundamental need for pleasure that outweighed any othe
r.
The pleasure induced by her master’s thick, relentless rod spread out from her pussy in concentric circles that terminated in her befogged brain, encircling and squeezing the source of all bodily delight, forcing from it the elemental chemical compound that is the trigger of all pleasure, delivering ecstasy to each one of her body’s billions and billions of cells.
A moment of panic seized her as the beast loomed larger and larger within her. Could her body withstand the mighty pulses that such an orgasm would produce? Would the levees and dams of her conscious self break and dissolve, overwhelmed by such an explosion, too big to be contained? But the thought was too late and vanished like a string slipping out of your hand. Her pussy seemed to retract like a diver easing back on a diving board in preparation for a daring leap, like a trigger pulled back on a powerful cannon. Imaginary hands from within her tried to capture it, to forestall the forward movement that would set off catastrophe, but they were too weak to hold it back.
Her pussy clenched hard on the rogering cock. A pulse of pleasure too large for her body burst through her. And then, like a thunderous herd, other mighty pulses followed it, each one more devastating than the last.
A cruel, lust laden voice intruded into her delirious state. A brutal hand slapped her buttocks, once, twice, three times. ¡Ladra! ¡Ladra fuerte! ¡Ladra fuerte! ¡Ladra más fuerte perrita cachonda! You dirty dog!”
The sounds came from some dark, primitive place within her. She had no consciousness of their generation. It was like they were beasts within her that were unleashed by her master’s command. “Yaaaaaaaaarrrrp!” she yelled. “Yaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!” Her noises mingled with the cacophony in the room, like a trombone adding its voice to an orchestra peopled by madmen. “Yaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!” she yelled.
As if on signal, Lorenzo’s cock slipped free of her pounding conch. Its rapid exit and the void it left behind created a hole in the center of her raging passions. “Don’t go! Don’t go!” The demonic voice within her called out. “Come back! Come back!”
A second later powerful hands pressed down on her hips, spreading her thighs even wider. A point of pressure formed on the little brown star between her rear cheeks. Even before that little voice inside her could scream, “No! No! No!” Lorenzo’s cock pressed forward expanding the little ring and plunged deep into her bowels.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Carly called out as the pain of his entry shot through her. He began a frantic sawing almost instantly, causing echoes of his painful entry to reverberate within her. But the pain and surprise and humiliation of being so possessed before the other men, an act that told them through its example that anything went as far as the exaction of their future pleasure upon her were concerned, was a mere leitmotif in the explosive, thunderous symphony of pleasures her pussy was performing for her.
The movements along her grasping anal ring began to send messages of encouragement to her frontal organ. A new surge of seismic lust passed through her. “Not like this! Not like this! Not like this!” the little voice screamed. But, like a tidal wave engulfing the frantic, panicked population of a humble fishing village, a second course of pounding, pussy wrenching spasms erupted within her.
Lorenzo was shouting something in Spanish. She couldn’t even discern words in the raucous verbiage. But those bestial emissions erupted once more, flowing up her esophagus, propelled by her diaphragm, pushed out by every ounce of breath within her. “Yaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!” she yelled. “Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp! Yaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!”
And then, amidst her animalistic shouts, she heard a mighty roar emanate from her assailant. His hips pounded against hers. His cock thrust in and outwards at a fevered pace. The grip of his hands became even tighter, harder. “Arrrrrrrrrrrgh!” he cried out. “Arrrrrrrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!”
His motions slowed. The grips of his hands became soft. Her brain was still whirring madly, but her pussy’s convulsions slowed and began to erode. The voices within her changed places and her whole being was seized with a soul wrenching shame at her display. Lorenzo’s softening cock slipped from her and he gave a mighty slap to her rear, and he announced loudly his pleasure at her performance. “¡Mas bueno, Zorrita! ¡Eres la mejor perrita de singar! The best fuck dog ever!”
A chorus of agreement met his announcement. One of the men, undoubtedly inspired by her performance, stepped up in front of her. Her face was even with the end of the table. His hand gripped her chin and lifted her head. “¡Abre tu boca, Zorrita!” it commanded. “¡Aquí viene otra verga!”
The cock passed over her lips and pressed against the back of her mouth. A wave of unhappiness flowed through her. But as the cock began its movements over her lips and tongue, she closed her mouth dutifully around it like the obedient beast that she was.
When the man had flooded her oral cavity with his spunk, spilling it over her lips and down her chin, another man jumped up to take his place. When he was finished, strong hands lifted her up from the table and deposited her on the floor. The man pulled her hips up and, after thrusting himself a few times in her still juicy pussy, breached the smaller opening above it. His cock was thicker than Lorenzo’s, so thick it made her scream. It was long, very long, and it seemed to take forever to traverse her anal lips. The man was in no hurry. He seemed to revel in the murkiness of her depths, the tight grip of her rear ring. His hands reached under her and squeezed and massaged her breasts.
He went on and on, dragging his bulging cock out nearly its full, seemingly endless length and then back in again. The drag of his member across her sensitive lips created a constant buzzing in her quim, not enough to put her over the top, but quite enough for the voices within her to change places again. At one point, he came to a stop, fully lodged within her and barked a command. One of the maids, naked and cum stained, brought her a tumbler of tequila and poured it into her unwanting mouth. She swallowed it and the room spun and the man began again.
He went on and on. Several times men shouted him encouragement, “¡Viva El Burro!” and things like that.
Near the end, although she didn’t know it was near the end since the man seemed content to be eternally sunk within her, he circled his arms under her and lifted her torso so that she was balanced on her knees. He ordered one of the maids to crouch down between her thighs and to lick her pussy, or that was at least Carly assumed that his order was since that was what the young ponytailed girl did. It didn’t take long for her lusts to begin to accelerate. He had one hand around her throat and the other around her belly as he thrust himself up into her. She barked dutifully as she came, as she had been taught, and, in the midst of her second body wrenching climax, he groaned and finished off within her.
The party had subsided by this point. The movie was over and a soccer match was on. Carly lay on the floor, hoping to escape further notice, her body drained of all energy. The other girls knelt obediently on either side of the TV, their hands behind them, their breasts thrust out and up, their knees spread. Finally, Lorenzo made an announcement and the men all assented. They got up from their seats and began to file out of the room. Lorenzo stopped next to her. “¡Presentate, Zorrita!” he spat out.
She jumped up into position.
“That’s a good doggie,” he said, rubbing her head. “Don’t let me catch you lying about like that again,” he said. “When we are done with you, you should be kneeling up like this in case anybody wants you. I’ll let it go for now since it was your first time.”
Carly gave him a sad nod of obedience that made her doggie ears swing. There were four cages along the wall that held the TV. Lorenzo ordered the three females into them and then locked them. He bent over Carly’s cage. “We’re going out to have some fun,” he told her. “But I’ll see you again later and we’ll fuck some more.” He laughed, turned and left the room. The TV was left on.
An hour later Vincenzo brought her upstairs to Lo
renzo’s room where he whipped her pussy savagely for her hesitation in obeying him earlier. He left her standing, her ankles freed from her thighs, her hands locked behind her and raised up by the chain that led to the ceiling, making her lean forwards slightly. He gagged her with Lorenzo’s replica penis and left the room. Carly waited unhappily for several hours before Lorenzo appeared, drunk and randy, to take his pleasures with her in his bed. When he was sated, and had brought her to three body shaking orgasms, he locked her up in her little cage at the foot of his bed and went off to sleep. Carly cried and sobbed until somnolence finally claimed her. Her first day in her new life as a fuck doggie, una perrita de singar, was at an end.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Now, four months later, Carly heard the front door opening again. She sprang to attention and jumped from her little doggie bed. By the time the door was fully open and the two well dressed men had entered, she was kneeling in place, her little puppy hands presented at the level of her breasts and she was issuing loud barks to get their attention. The men were clearly not members of Lorenzo’s crew; outfitted in expensive, well tailored suits, they were too well dressed for that. They were obviously well into middle age, the one man, short, partially bald and with a noticeable pot belly, the other taller, slimmer with short black hair trimmed with grey.
“Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!” Carly called out to them. They didn’t seem surprised to see her, but her display was unusual enough that they both exhibited bemused smiles.
One of the maids came out, the one called Maria, a beautiful, well-endowed girl who was a favorite of Lorenzo and his men in their almost daily rancorous and exuberant sessions in his play room. Carly had coupled with her more than a few times for the men’s amusement. Maria asked the men politely what was their pleasure. Lorenzo was, as was his habit some mornings, in his office making and taking telephone calls. The men who came in apparently had an appointment with him.
