Christina, Slave In Training Ch. 1

Just below the cock filling her rectum, Christine's empty pussy lapsed into spasms. She ached to finger her clit for relief, but with her hands held behind her, this was an itch that she could not scratch. Ultimately, however, it would be those quivering pussy tissues that triggered the string of small orgasms that in turn brought him off and saved her sanity.

Buried in her bowel, Luke could feel the vibrations inside his victim, and it was more than he could stand. As Christine was jolted again and again with minor shocks, Luke began to ejaculate, filling her bowel with the same flood of cum as he had filled her mouth with less than an hour before. Christine felt him jerk against her ass, and the warm sticky spurts inside her bowel set her off with the largest most soul shattering orgasm of her life.

As their mutual wave of excitement passed, the two of them collapsed across the bed, Christine on the bottom, Luke with his prick still buried in her ass laying flush along her back, his hands squeezing her tits under her. As the minutes ticked away, the red fog gradually cleared from Christine's eyes and she was able to focus on her surroundings. Boomer was seated in a chair across the room, bare assed and slowly masturbating his big cock. On the floor, still hogtied hand and foot, but now with her panties stuffed in his mouth as a gag, was her husband, Stanley.

Boomer spoke first. "Shit, man! That was hot. I've never seen an ass fuck like that. Our little slut was really into it. You all right partner?"

"Yeah, I'm just F-I-N-E," came his answer. "You're right though, I ain't never had a ride like that before, not in any pussy, not in any ass."

"Well get up then and get dressed," Boomer urged suddenly full of energy. "The night is young. We can't keep something this good to ourselves. The boys over at the bar gotta see this bitch perform, otherwise they won't believe us when we tell 'em."

Christine's heart sank. She had been certain that she had exhausted these two, and for better or worse, her servitude for this night at least was near its end. Now it seemed that she was going to be taken to a honky-tonk saloon to face a new cast of rapists. Sure enough ten minutes later, Stanley and his wife, along with their kidnappers, were crossing the highway in front of the motel.

Stanley's hands were tied behind him, his wife's panties remained stuffed in is mouth, but he was still full dressed as he stumbled along led at the end of a rope. Untied and ungagged, and like her husband led by a noose around her neck, Christine walked timidly behind her two kidnappers, naked in the moonlight but for her shoes. She could hear drunken laughter and the sound of country music as they neared neon lit windows of the saloon, and she wondered still lay before her his night.

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There will be more to the story of Christine, at least two more chapters, assuming you the readers want to find out what happens to her in that honky-tonk bar. The only way I can know is from your votes and e-mail. You wouldn't leave a bookstore without paying for your book. Don't leave here without paying with a vote. The fun in the writing is in your vote and hearing from you about what you think of the story, and where it should go from here. Many thanks, Jigs.