Jan crawled on her knees around the room, taking cock, one right after the other, and the cocks just kept coming, as if she’d never see an end. Her mouth and tongue were sore, her knees ached and her ass stung from being slapped so many times by so many hands. A heavy leash tugged at the collar they made her wear, dragging her from man to man. Her throat hurt too, inside and out.
They’d exhausted all her energy by 2 am, and took her back down to her cage in the dungeon. This was where she lived 24/7. A 24/7 slave gets no better treatment than this. She had wanted it all. From the collar to the cuffs to the cage, the branding and the constant fucking, men every night, more than she could count. She lost track of the time she’d been Sir Stephen’s slave. He’d been a hard taskmaster, and had hardly let up. Humiliated to tears, naked before important men, verbally abused, reviled for every flaw. If she managed to fix one flaw there were others her owner was ready to point out. As fearlessly as her mind sought to remedy her faults, her master and his associates would never be pleased. This was living in her dreams. So many demands that she could never keep up. Punished because she deserved every lick. Bartered, sold and given away. Owned and used by so many. She was only twenty-four.
And yet to that point, she had not gone far enough. Not yet.
Jan Enslaved, Marilyn Hayworth, 2002
***
Jackson
I arrived at her office at the end of the day. Through the glass I could see a weary expression on her face, in her brow and eye and the way she set her jaw. She was unhappy. A phone call interrupted my announcing myself to her. She picked up the receiver like she would any other call, and then scowled and slammed it down. She was angry now, really angry and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
Given her state of mind, I figured I might have a fight on my hands, and I was sure that it was one that I needed to win.
I didn’t knock. But I didn’t exactly barge right in either. The door was already ajar just a crack. I pushed it open and slowly moved inside, waiting for her to look up and find me there.
She did and practically jumped out of her seat in fright.
“God! You scared me!”
“I didn’t mean to.” That was the truth.
“But you did.” As I anticipated, there was an edge in her voice.
“And you’ve had a trying day I see.”
“Yes, I’ve had a trying day,” Rachel sighed exasperated.
“Maybe your night will be better.”
“Not if I have to grade mid-term exams.”
“Then don’t.”
“It is my job,” she came back unusually terse.
“They are due to be done when?”
“Next week. Wednesday, Thursday at the latest.”
“So, it’s Friday now, I have you until Sunday night. Forget the papers.”
“Jackson, please, I can’t.”
Like I said, I anticipated the fight.
“You’re unusually tense today, I think you need a break.”
“I can’t with so much to do.”
“Are you sure?” I challenged her. “Is it humanly possible to get the exams graded by Wednesday if you spend the weekend with me?”
She took too long to consider the answer, and I knew what it had to be.
“Don’t lie,” I added for good measure.
“I never lie to you.”
“Never?
“Never, Jackson.” I could see visible signs of the tension slowly giving way.
“Then get your exams, your purse and come with me.”
She looked up at me intently, fishing for something to say, no doubt looking for another objection. My eyes held in their grasp with a soulful and determined stare. She’d back down. She knew it and so did I.
***
The long winding drive through the Hollywood Hills had her nervous from the start. I admit, I wasn’t playing fair. I’d made her change her clothes in the parking garage at the college. After taking off her modest skirt and blouse, she put on the vinyl cincher I bought in New York, the one with the straps across her breasts and the tight restraining laces, finally the matching lace up thong. She wore a sheer red blouse over the top and a short leather skirt. Fishnets, spike heels, and the bit would complete the picture – although I planned to save the bit for later.
Nervous? I would have been worried if she hadn’t been nervous.
“Jackson, really! Here? You want me to dress here?” she’d protested. “What if someone comes in while I’m naked?”
“Then they’ll get a good show.”
“Please,” she tried again to plead her case.
“Get dressed, Rachel,” I held firm. “I would think the threat of exposure would be reason enough for you not to waste a lot of time.”
She wanted to protest more. I could feel the grimace, the exhaustion already lurking around her spirit. But that didn’t matter. This was the kind of thing that got inside my blood, that revved up the dominant man I was. I slapped her a few times on the ass and with her still acting cross and feisty, I pulled her around in front of me and gave her face the kind of slap that seemed to create an instantaneous response. She took a deep breath and I felt her ease quickly into her submissive self.
At last, she stripped down to nothing, shaking the whole time, body rippling with fear and excitement. I loved watching every curve of her shapely form come into view, a stark contrast to the grey, impersonal parking structure. I briefly pinched her nipples and waited as the pain worked its way through her body. I could have taken her on the spot, over the hood of my car, but she’d quickly moved on once I let go of her nipples. She climbed into the clothes, turning so I could lace the bustier, then finally cover up the kinky costume with the more proper clothes – if you could call the sheer blouse and short skirt proper.
She was ‘dressed to kill’ and looking mildly pleased that she’d accomplished the feat without exposing herself to a passerby.
“Now bend over,” I ordered.
Her eyes widened briefly, but she obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. I suppose she thought I was planning to spank her in earnest, and was much surprised when she felt me insert something into her rectum. I squeezed on the plastic bottle and shot a doze of thick lubricant into her anal channel.
“Jackson, what are you doing!” She jumped up.
I pushed her back down. “Just a little preparation. You’ll know soon enough.”
A moment later, we heard the sound of footsteps, someone in the parking garage walking toward us, and the dressed-up, ass-greased Rachel scrambled quickly into the car.
We sped away, up that long drive to the mansion on the hill where my friends were waiting for us, waiting for the entertainment to arrive. When we arrived atop the hill, I pulled out the bit. One look at it and she seemed both thrilled and very scared.
“Do I have to?” she asked, nervously.
“Yes, you have to.” Then I shoved the bit into her mouth and tied the straps at the back of her neck.
At the front steps of the mansion, I made her kneel as I rang the doorbell. Then she crawled inside on her hands and knees. I have no idea what she was feeling, but I sensed that she was chilled by the sight of three large black men sitting back drinking booze and watching the Lakers on TV. The room smelled strongly of cigar smoke and beer. I felt her body recoil even as my desire took hold.
“This the slut, Jack?” Jesse looked up at me with a broad grin. Like there was any question about who she was or why we were here.
“She’s yours,” I replied in the affirmative.
The toothy white grin expanded as he greeted her. His hulking body looming over Rachel made her look so small.
“C’mere, honey,” Jesse reeked of sly warmth, “come to daddy, see what big daddy got for you.”
Out came his cock to taunt her. Jesse’s thick meat appeared before her frightened eyes. Even I reacted a bit, noting the large size of his expanding erection. I felt her response, how she quavered for several seconds unsure what to do. Finally she started forward, moving slowly until she was at his knees. Jamal and Tory sat on the other sofa with their eyes glued to the submissive picture of my girlfriend about to offer her body up for their sexual use, just as it had been prearranged.
“Up!” Jesse motioned for her to kneel up so he could see her better. He gave her body a longing glance, carefully running his hand over the fabric of her blouse. “Nice titties, girl,” he oozed a mesmerizing erotic charm that seemed to have her enthralled. “Lemme see dem a little bettar, huh?” He watched as Rachel opened her blouse, where the cheap vinyl cincher pushed her breasts up into firm white mounds, covered only by the straps. He stroked his long cock and smiled, then nodded to the skirt, which she pushed down over her hips and let drop to her knees, revealing her smooth, rounded hips and firm thighs. At last he reached in and fingered his way between the laces of her thong to where her pussy dampened the slick vinyl. “Ooo, nize, but not so good with a bit in da mouth, huh?” Reaching around behind her head, he carefully undid the buckle that held the bit in place, then set it aside, pushing Rachel’s head down over his erection. The thick meat slid into her open mouth.
She was too scared, too shocked to react with anything more than a whimper. But it was plain to see that as she began to taste Jesse, her mouth came alive. Her tongue and lips began to work; her hands reached out pressing against his thighs. I could see from where I stood off to the side that her eyes were lighting with the feral glow of her desire. Her surrender seemed assured.
She made me hot. So hot that I wanted to whisk her away and forget this scene. I’d only wanted to share her in the first place because I sensed that she needed to follow her desires to whatever end they brought her before she could commit to the kind of relationship that I wanted for us.
She became even more involved, more lost to her fantasy, when the tawny-skinned Jamal moved in from behind and peeled back the vinyl thong to access her ass. His long fingers seemed to work like magic, bringing her body to the near brink of orgasm within a few seconds of intimate massage. He fingered her cunt until she was heaving and about to explode, but then suddenly pulled his hand away just as she was at the edge. Using the juices from her pussy, he worked her asshole, first stuffing fingers into the tight space, then pressing his cockhead to her anus. He pushed his erection slowly into the well-greased channel and her body cringed, just as she cringed with me at the start of anal sex. With her attention momentarily diverted she stopped sucking Jesse’s cock. He wasn’t pleased.
“Suck cock, slut.” He slapped her face and brought her back to him as well. “You please us, you don’t get hurt. You got that?”
Her mouth was wet, her eyes filling with tears and fear and desire so rich that it commanded my attention as well as renewed my desire.
She strained as Jamal continued to move inside her ass. “Ansuh me, girl!” Jesse shook her head.
“Yes, sir.”
“Dez good.” He pushed her mouth back to his cock and she picked up where she let off.
She was taken from both ends, worked to a jerking, twisting almost frenetic frenzy, with Jesse finally ejaculating into her mouth and Jamal following soon after. Jamal smacked her ass real hard as he was crescendoing to his climax, then gripped her ass cheeks tightly as he came, pumping his thick meat hard and fast into her backdoor.
She was panting and breathless as Tory, the third man in the trio, took Jesse’s place at her cum-soaked lips.
Rachel instantly shriveled back in fear.
“Open da mouth, slut,” Jesse ordered. She could see him off to her side with a thick, black leather slapper in his hand, coming down hard and threateningly in his palm. “You no want me to punish you now, girl.”
Rachel returned to Tory’s behemoth erection, her mouth embracing its increasing girth and allowing the full head and shaft to widen her beyond what she’d likely experienced before. She must have clicked into an altered state because I could feel her being start to relent, not resist as Tory’s prick forced itself on her. She was gasping, struggling hard as he pushed his way to the back of her throat. When she almost choked, he let her ease up, licking and sucking for a while to catch her breath before he forced her head down again.
Although I probably could have come in seconds as I watched Rachel pleasure the three, I found a different kind of space within myself that allowed me to stand back removed and watch with a sadistic and dominant frame of mind while my girlfriend was gang-banged by the three black men.
I’d told them to use her until she was wasted. For another two hours, she gave herself to sucking cock and taking it in the ass. Once the first round was over, once Tory finally got off in her mouth, it was clear that Rachel had surrendered to the plan. For the rest of the scene, there was not an ounce of fight left in her, as she continued to pleasure these men with her mouth and ass.
Her pussy was off limits for the night. With so much strain on the two available orifices, she might have been grateful for the chance to take them in her cunt. But this was one piece of control I retained, and no one would test my resolve. I suppose fucking ass and mouth were enough for these three. They certainly weren’t complaining.
I had to wonder if Rachel would ever want me again after this night. She’d written so often and passionately about big, black men, that I had to wonder if this was a fascination that would stick for more than just one night. She was proving to be as ravenous for black dick as the women in her erotic fiction.
Only when Tory began to work her asshole did she have some concerns and start to balk. She was on the bed by that time, naked and on all fours with her breasts hanging down, the subject of the black men’s rough taunts and rough play. They’d smacked her ass pretty harshly for a time, until it glowed red with the skin radiating heat and the flesh appearing raw. Jesse had taunted her several times with his mean-looking slapper. He brought it right up to her face and made her ‘bless it’ with her kisses, saying things like: “You want it, bitch, huh?” then grabbing her hair in his fist and jerking her head back. Again and again he repeated the taunt, even as she shook her head in fear, praying he’d back off. She finally couldn’t hold on any longer. Fear gave way to her masochistic desire and when he said, “Tell me, bitch! Tell me what da slut want, huh!” she finally gave in:
“Please, please, smack me hard, hurt me, please!” She wailed from deep in her gut with passion enough to stir mine anew.
I suppose that seeing her from a detached point of view made me appreciate how deeply absorbed in the activity she’d become.
Her cry was all that Jesse needed in order to take action. The spanking that followed was hard and fast and over quickly. She was screaming hysterically before the last slap hit. Her raw ass made me cringe. But she was back sucking cock a moment later, quite obviously happy that the punishment was over. It was at that moment when Tory chose to open her ass cheeks and plant his fat erection into the taut space. He massaged the opening, first with his fingers, reminding her how easily she’d opened to his friends, then with the head of his enormous cock taking over and demanding entrance. She’d already taken both Jesse and Jamal in the tight space, but they were easy compared with their dark-skinned friend. Black like the ace of spades. Strong muscles. Huge thighs. Everything about him was enormous and forbidding. As he knelt behind her and began to press his way inside, she looked so very small. For a moment, I wondered if this was really too much to ask of her. I reminded myself that her mouth had already suffered from the man and she’d survived that. But she had every reason to fear him even more.
With the first significant thrust, she fell forward, Tory’s cock slipping from her ass. Her scream rose up all around the room, adding to the sexual electricity that crackled through the steamy air. “You do this, baby, relax for me.” Tory’s easy tone of voice soothed her, as he brought her back to hands and knees, and held one ass cheek tightly in one fist as he tried again. It wasn’t so much of a scream as an agonized groan, a clenching, a biting of her lip and a pained wince that followed as the huge cock eased its way inside. Tory’s voice seemed to vibrate from the same deep source as this coarse and degrading sex act. It must have acted on her mind, until she moaned as much from desire as pain. He spanked her, roughly squeezed her ass cheeks, drawing all of her attention into pleasuring him and him alone. He didn’t have to compete with the other men. They lay on the sidelines, watching. After coming twice, Jesse and Jamal were too worn out to need more of Rachel’s sexual gifts.
As Tory’s dick moved into the slickened channel, it did so slowly, inch by inch, its nearly five inch girth stretching her wide, just as he’d previously stretched her mouth.
“Ohmygod!” she murmured repeatedly. Surrender was difficult. She was teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain. I could sense her fear, and the fact that any second she might refuse the man. Her head was tucked between her arms as if she needed to hide, or maybe just concentrate on what was being demanded of her. For a while I thought she’d fail with this last piece of her surrender. But then Tory started slapping her ass again, hard and fast. Taking her mind off what was happening in her rectum, he was able to force his way the final few inches without her objecting.
Fucking was easier than penetration alone. The pistoning organ working to its climax soon had her body relaxing to the rhythmic action. She hissed and growled, her dark hair thrashing back and forth, her fists pounding into the mattress. Then with a silent cry from her open mouth, her head raised up high and she began to come.
The fucking stopped with one last firm thrust, while Tory held her ass against his groin and ejaculated in strong, forceful jolts.
Tears of relief streamed from Rachel’s eyes when she realized that the ordeal was nearly over.
She finally slumped to the bed as Tory pulled out, only to have Jesse pull her to him on the bed. The big black man lifted her groin to his face and began using his long tongue and thick lips to get her off again. Her pussy opened instinctively. Then a long, low animal growl came from deep within her body, “Ohmygaaaaawwwwwwd!” Her thighs clamped hard against his head and her body shook until she finally collapsed.
The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweating bodies and the perfume of my girlfriend’s fragrant cunt. I felt like an extraneous outsider in the company of the wilted and well fucked. My aching cock still had no satisfaction of its own.
Like most situations with Rachel, her mind finally woke enough to realize where she was and exactly what she’d done. She felt the soreness in her ass and the aching in her limbs. Between her subtle, tired smiles were pained winces. Finally, she disentangled herself from the black men and moved toward me, falling into my arms.
“Am I finished here, sir?” she whispered.
Even if I’d planned for more, I’m not sure I could have put her through more that night. “You are. Yes,” I said.
I grabbed her clothes from the floor and wrapped my arm around her waist, nodding to the trio of satisfied men.
“You bring her back now, anytime,” Jesse smiled. “She be all right.”
“Yes, she’s just fine,” I agreed.
“Come soon. Girl is greedy for black cock.”
I nodded, and led her from the room to the front door, and out to the car where she collapsed against me as soon as I pulled into the driver’s seat.
Rachel…
I walked the beach in front of Jackson’s beach house near dawn. I hadn’t been able to speak after my night with his black friends. I can only remember how shaky I was, how pulled apart and physically shattered I felt. The black man Tory wounded me with his cock. The others had been difficult enough to take, but sex with Tory was frightening in its violent quality. Not that anything he demanded was more than I endured with the other men, just that his cock opened me wider than my body could stand – or so it seemed. But I did survive, and for some reason I submitted willingly because I wanted to be taken to that extreme. Because I knew that something in me needed this degree of sexual satisfaction. If only once, I needed the raw feeling of being used for sexual sport. I needed to be torn apart.
Afterwards, I seemed to carry Tory with me from the house in the hills. More of his essence lingered in my body and on my skin. His face, his ghastly veined erection, his grin, his pawing hands all fresh within my thoughts, he was more real than the others. Not that Jesse and Jamal were vague apparitions. They’d left their imprint too.
Did I like what I’d done or hate it? I didn’t know. I might never understand what I felt.
I told Jackson that, and it worried him. A lot of reassurances followed.
“Yes, I’m fine… yes, I did get off and I loved it…I needed to be used like that … I could never have done this on my own…” I’m not sure what more I needed to say to appease Jackson’s doubts, and we went to sleep with the issue still a troubling sore spot.
I woke before Jackson, which was unusual for us; he seemed to be such a morning person. Since I didn’t want to disturb him, I went down to the beach. To get away. To think alone about the night.
Then when I gazed up at the hillside and saw him standing there looking down at me, my heart leapt with excitement. It always seemed to beat a little faster when he was near – dangerous for a woman who was still confused about this strange affair.
Our night ended with a vague feeling of unrest that only revived with the new day. Maybe for the first time since he’d been dominating me did he think he’d gone too far. I couldn’t seem to shake that feeling as I stared at him. I remembered lying awake next to him for hours, needing his warmth to shake off the chills that seemed to infect me. It seemed odd that he was so silent.
I waved him down, smiling brightly. When he finally joined me on the beach I asked him point blank if he was sorry he’d given me to his black friends. Normally, answers came to him in seconds, this one took some thought.
“No,” was his final determination. “I think you’re physically shocked, but I think you had what you desired. You need that and I want that for you.”
“But you’re uneasy about it. I can tell that.”
“You think so?” He was being very vague, but generally pleasant.
We sat side by side on the beach, looking out on the constant waves. The sky was blue and bright, the sun creeping up the horizon behind us and coloring the day.
“You draw on things from my writing…” I tried again, “so, was this more important than other fantasies you’ve read about?”
“You like to write about black men,” he said.
“I guess I do.”
“Do you like to fuck them as much?”
Even after all the time I’d just spent reliving the night in my mind, I was still very fuzzy on the issue. “I don’t know. They are exotic and foreign to me. Another culture, another world. There’s such powerful status surrounding them, almost mythic,” I heard myself rattling on, though I had no idea if anything I said made sense to me, let alone Jackson. “Until last night, I only had my imagination to draw on, no real life experience with black men, or men from any other culture for that matter. I don’t even know if I’ve written about them truthfully.”
So you think they are different from white men?”
“Some, yes. But not substantively. Not really. Men are men. Maybe there is less inhibition, maybe more sexual confidence, more sexual prowess…” I turned to him, wanting to look in his eyes, but he kept staring out at the waves, “but I haven’t found you lacking in any of that yourself.” He finally turned toward me, not a smile, but an expression of amusement, perhaps. “I think there was a cultural gap in my experience. I guess I made up for that last night.”
“You want to go back?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But I don’t think so. I could have a black lover if I didn’t have you. But I think I’ve had enough of anonymous fucking.”
“You feel sordid and cheap, maybe?”
“A little.”
“And that’s bad?” He gently pushed my hair from my face. The wind had whipped it into my mouth.
“No. It’s not bad. I didn’t hesitate for a second, did I?”
“Not much. You had your moments. I wasn’t sure you could handle Tory, but you surrendered to him too.” He pulled me to him and held me against his chest, stroking my hair. “I won’t give you away like that again, Rachel.”
“And I’m okay with that.”
I still think he might have regretted the gangbang, but I knew I didn’t, and I wanted him to feel as confident about that as I did.
The night with his black friends seemed to deepen his regard for me. I felt secure with him. Something big had happened though I was unsure exactly what it was or how it might alter things between us, if it did.
This was maybe the best it had been between us, a time when I felt the most sure in what I was doing with Jackson Brandt. He’d taken me far. And I didn’t doubt that he had more plans for me that would set me off balance and at the same time give me the experience of my sexuality that I could not have otherwise. As sure as I was of him and me, however, there was always that tittering feeling that what we had could not last; it wasn’t in my makeup to thrive in a relationship. I’d never managed it before, why would I now?