Grain Dealer -or- Invitation Only

Then to Glenn, "Like little girls, do you? Bad karma. Normal, but bad karma nonetheless." Glenn said nothing: although he'd had nothing to do with her shave, Blondie had nailed him squarely!

Blondie went pensive. Yul stood silently where both Chloe and Glenn could see him: he was playing gently with himself, stroking his erection, and Chloe stared openly as he pulled his shortened foreskin up and over the head, making the entire helmet disappear and reappear. It was as if his cock-head were fucking his foreskin. Yul just stared silently at her, the blue eyes scanning her up and down repeatedly. Once again, it was as if she were being eyed by a predator. Un-nerving. She wondered what, exactly, Yul was thinking as he studied her body? Did he like what he saw? If so, what did it portend?

She shivered visibly. The as-yet-inchoate prospects danced through her brain, teasing, frightening, intriguing. "Some 220-pound dildo!" Chloe told herself. In person, up this close, it was nothing to be casual about. Was that thing of his, she wondered, eventually going inside her? Of course it was. She knew that, didn't she? But... where!? Just the question yielded ice and pricklings along her spine.

Mistress came to some conclusion. Her next statement took everyone by surprise, especially Chloe, who once again reddened prettily over her entire front. "Well, England, since you look like the most nervous of the bunch, and are definitely the youngest, I think these two men, here, should spend some time concentrating on giving you some serious pleasure. You're going to be amazed at what two bodies, these big, warm power-driven dildos we call "men", can do for you when they team up and cooperate. I promise."

Then she barked "Yul! Mister M! The job for the two of you is to give this little girl pleasure. LOTS of it. You will ignore your own needs until I tell you otherwise. Mistress will orchestrate things. Put her on the bed, in the middle, on her back." Mistress pulled a huge terrycloth towel from a stack on the dresser, spread it across the center of the bed. A target. Bulls-eye for Chloe. "Do it now!"

Yul and Glenn looked at one another, then at Chloe, who seemed paralyzed. Together, they stepped up to her, and picked her up off the floor, raising her like Venus on the half-shell from her pool of clothing. She was shaking despite their gentleness. They were being extraordinarily careful with her - either of them could have carried her like a feather, and between them she was practically inconsequential.

Up this close, Yul in particular was a mountain. O her left, a warm, good-smelling mountain with factory-installed protuberance, thought Julie. Well designed. Internally powered, no batteries needed. And on the other side, her own nice, but smaller, more personal mountain, similarly equipped. They laid her down on the towel, and under Mistress' instructions knelt on the bed, one on either side of Chloe's chest. Chloe looked briefly left and then right: the men were in serious heat, their two desire-rigid cocks dominated her views. Quite different from one another.

She was puzzled by Mistress's command - how, incidentally, were the men supposed to please HER without pleasing themselves? Or had that necessarily been part of Mistress' instructions? Chloe couldn't remember those details. Odd: and she was good at details. Her nipples positively ached, and her belly was quivering. Adrenaline was definitely flowing now.

Mistress reached over and straightened Chloe's arms above her head, dropped a pillow atop Chloe's hands, and said "Hold this. I think you're going to need it. Not a sound, England, or the pleasure will stop. Understood, boys?" All three nodded. Beneath her, Chloe felt the intense tingles, almost scratching, of the coarse terry-cloth. It was amazing, seemed to prime ever available nerve ending. No fabric-softener for this laundry: that would have spoilt the entire effect.

She wiggled slightly, waiting. Mistress Blondie stepped down to Chloe's ankles: Chloe's legs were pressed firmly together. "No false modesty, England. Show-off time. I'm going to arrange you. You'll find out why in a moment." Chloe flushed brilliantly over her entire body as Blondie spread her legs apart, stood gazing squarely up the vee. "Pretty little thing, you are! Got a soft pink pussy and little-bitty-clitty like a ten year old girl. Not over-used. No children. Nice."

Mistress' nipples were very different now from before, Chloe managed to notice: they were hugely erect, even the surrounding areolas were crinkled and hard-looking. Apparently she was enjoying herself. Chloe wondered whether it was the role, or the view of her crotch? It didn't really matter, did it?

Mistress gave instructions: the two men bent forward, each licking, almost nursing. They began at Chloe's wrists, along the pulse-point. Tongues explored amongst her fingers and across her palms, up her forearms and inner elbows. New nerves unveiled themselves for Chloe. Good nerves, very functional. Her belly was wet with lust-sweat.

At Mistress' orders, their twenty fingertips traced gentle sparkling trails across Chloe's skin, and their tongues fueled the sparks, fanned them into full flame. Nursing now on smooth armpits, they worked gradually south. Chloe was squirming, eyes closed, utterly lost in the flood of sensation. Her breasts, eager with anticipation, got their full share. Neither man seemed inclined to notice the difference between Chloe and Mistress in that department. It was nice that here, in the sexual lists where it really counted, there was no size-related difference in what a tit could do for its owner and her men.

"MEN! Plural! Egad!" thought Chloe, but only briefly. Hard nipples, real nursing, electricity exploding into her brain. Two mouths down her ribs. Two tongues, alternately exploring her navel. Tongue-fucking it. Making love to it. She squirmed, delighted, but careful to make no sounds.

Mistress Blondie's hands held on to Chloe's ankles, spreading them apart, opening her secret places to full view. Now Chloe shivered actively. Wider went her legs: the men were shifting, she could feel warmth between her thighs.

Momentarily there came a long, slow lick up her midline, sliding ecstatically, gently across her clit. It had to be Glenn, because Yul's mouth was still covered by the mask's flap. Then she heard the gentle ripping sound of Velcro being opened, and looked up briefly: Blondie had released Yul's mouth for duty. Chloe found herself amused at her unexpected reaction: "Goodie! Two has to be better than one!"

Chloe gasped at the first touch of tongue surrounded by leather, sighed deeply when it was repeated. The face retreated, was replaced. Completely different sensations, similar touches differently delivered. Alternating. One, two, back and forth. She was soaring now. There were big, solid hands on her boobs, each dancing to a different tune, adding fuel.

Abruptly, incredibly, she came. She didn't know, and it didn't matter, which face was down there between her legs. It did the job admirably. She arched up, gasped, shuddered, and hung suspended between heels and shoulders, shaking.

How long could such an intensity go on, she wondered? And what might she have to do in repayment, in thanks? She didn't care, not really, she'd happily accommodate and do anything not painful, just so long as this didn't stop. With her eyes still closed, she couldn't tell which mouth was operating at the moment, and it made absolutely no difference whatever.

When she collapsed, thinking she was spent, she discovered otherwise. Mistress' voice came through the fog: "Good start, slaves. Quite nice. There's more, though: this poor girl is obviously deprived. Maybe even depraved! Roll her over on her belly for us. Do it now!" As they moved to her command, Mistress' hand reached out and re-fastened Yul's mouth flap. Watching that instrument of her pleasure disappear, Chloe felt a tiny twinge of regret: lips and tongues were such nice adjuncts to a dildo! They really ought to be standard accessories.

They rolled her over. Chloe was completely passive, as if she were sexual clay being molded. It was quite the interesting thing, this total relinquishment of control or initiative. Extremely erotic, and anything but subtle. The rough terrycloth felt delicious on her nipples. She would remember this, next laundry-day. Behind her, Mistress took hold of her ankles again, spread her legs wide. Cool air caressed her damp, exposed slit. She thought she should be embarrassed, but the caress of those six eyes seemed somehow to erase that thought.

She waggled her bottom ever so slightly, heard Mistress snort in amusement. Then she felt the men kneel beside her once more, the mattress yielding deeply to their combined weight. Mistress' voice was dim, Chloe was paying no attention, just waiting there in her personal fog. Big hands on her bottom, one from each side, one Yul, one Glenn. Cupping her bottom: she imagined how small her butt must look in those hands, and shivered again. The hands were warm, and awfully strong, massaging, but careful, gentle. Her slit was dripping. It was embarrassing to think that her neediness simply HAD to be completely obvious to them all. Her lips must be swollen and gaping an inch or more by now. She could feel her own heat, for heaven's sake, down between her legs.

Mistress drizzled almond-oil down the crack of Chloe's ass. Then one finger probed, gently. Chloe thought it came from the hand on her left, Yul's side. He had huge hands, she remembered... fingers big even in proportion to the rest of him. Michelangelo's David-hands. She wondered briefly why she had noticed that detail, and couldn't recall his face? The finger pressed on her anus: it was a little scary, as well as sexy.

She wondered what the others thought of the sight, then stopped worrying about it, bit her lip slightly as the finger slid gently inside her bottom. Deep. Deeper. Fully inside: she could tell because his heavy fist-knuckles were pressing solidly against the inner cheek of her buttock. Then it was circling, writhing slowly far up inside. She groaned aloud, and her bottom rose of its own volition, like a female cat in heat. Whoever, whichever man, it was that provided this tool, he knew her insides better than he ought: it took him only moments to find her hidden G-spot, back behind her pubis where so few men ever thought to explore. It was as if lightning struck her insides every time he pressed on it. The finger... an alien life form, it was, wriggling about in her private spaces down there. And anything BUT evil!

Chloe caught her breath while Mistress re-arranged things. The finger stopped moving but remained embedded, quiescent. Other movements, exterior, gentle touches along the crack of her bottom again, from the other side. Then more stretching, also from the second side, and she gasped again as the other man's finger joined in, sliding in alongside the first, the stretching now intense. Then the two began a dance inside her ass, exploring. They were practically a team: it was as if they'd done this before, lots of times. Pulling gently in opposite, sideways directions. Surely they were holding her literally open now, and could actually see up inside her butt, back there? What color, she wondered, would the inside of her rectum be? Probably pink, she guessed. She should be embarrassed to tears, and instead she felt... exactly what? She couldn't say, couldn't find any words. But it definitely wasn't BAD in any way. Not when this process was making such an incredible light-show inside her skull.

The men's free hands caressed her back, from hairline to the soles of her feet, independent motions, ceaselessly. Mistress, too: there were more than two hands caressing her back at once. She bit her lip harder: their deep-driven fingers were stretching her anus strongly, just to the ragged borderline of pain, but not quite flipping over that shifting, subtle edge.

The two men teamed up instinctively, alternated stroking her spot through her rectal wall. TWO men inside her at once, both of whom understood what she needed, where her special sensitivities were. Improbable to the point of impossibility. She was breathless. She wondered briefly at her body's ability to take such abuse. Not abuse: better to think of it as an unexpected, but lovely, ability to receive pleasure. Her clit was aching now, but still untouched. An ultimate in teasing! Her butt was far elevated, she was thoroughly on fire. She managed a glance up at the mirror: Glenn's face was placid, both men's their eyes closed, whilst concentration oozed from every male pore.

Each had a hand on his own erection, stroking slowly. Both cock-heads were brilliant flesh-plums, filled to bursting with bright red arterial blood. And kneeling between her legs, reaching for Chloe's crotch, was Mistress.

Mistress' fingers slid effortlessly into the juicy tunnel of Chloe's pussy, one finger, then two, three, finally four. Almost a fist. Chloe was fuller now than ever before in her life, and all three of her invaders began a syncopated stroking. In the midst of it, Mistress' other hand joined the fray and concentrated entirely on Chloe's clit, teasing it with nothing except one finger-nail edge. That triggered her: she writhed. She groaned. She almost shrieked with each cycle. And Mistress Blondie understood just exactly when to quit, at the moment one second before suffocation, one instant before passing out. Eventually Chloe dropped, empty and throbbing and gasping, back onto the mattress.

Mistress stood and contemplated the scene, apparently planning. The two men knelt there, erections in hand, waiting. Blondie got a tiny grin on her lips: "Rumor has it, England, that the sandwich was invented over there in your country, by some fox-hunting nutso called the Earl of Sandwich. So, in his and your honor, I proclaim it to be "Sandwich Time for England" over here in the colonies!"

Chloe's eyes flew wide: she almost said something, but it died in her throat as she caught Mistress' glance. Silence. Mistress set Yul on his back, erection skyward: he moved confidently, as if he'd been here before. He certainly understood the moment perfectly, and was far more than merely ready. Mistress guided Chloe to straddle Yul's belly. Chloe watched herself in the mirror for a moment as she spread and stretched her thighs across the broad expanse of Yul's muscular hips and thighs: his cock looked like a baseball bat about to probe between her legs.

Then Mistress was taking Glenn's hand, and the two of them were placing Yul's cockhead just so. Mistress' hands were on Chloe's hips, pulling her back, down, aiding and abetting Yul's cock as it spread Chloe shockingly wide. Chloe bit her lip again, wriggling, accommodating. It was big, this cock: yes, but it was also wonderfully filling and already enroute to being comfortable. Much more than merely comfortable, in fact! She slithered, trying to get the entire length inside, to get her clit down against Yul's prominent pubic bone where it belonged. In several strokes, her innards were warmed up enough, and she managed it.

Auto-impaled, she looked down at Yul, almost in triumph: his eyes were closed, his hands behind his head. Not participating in her sensory world at all, totally immersed in his own. Just as Mistress had intimated. No matter. Yes, indeed, she told herself: my big, warm, intelligent dildo-vibrator. That's exactly what he is. And, of course, I'm his, because reciprocity in such things is always good. She looked over to see what Glenn was doing: he was standing beside the bed, solid erection in his fist, watching, apparently content to be an observer whilst awaiting Mistress' instruction.

Chloe felt a twinge of regret: she had her dildo, but Glenn, for the moment, only had himself. Surely Mistress would remedy that, and soon?

Chloe dropped forward, pressing her chest against Yul's, curling her arms beneath his shoulders, hugging herself to him as if he were a huge teddy-bear. Inside her, his cock stirred, twitched, portents of things to come. She turned her head to study Glenn again, made eye contact: he didn't seem upset, rather he was thoroughly aroused. As she watched, she felt something touching her, between her buttocks, just above the mighty confluence of her pussy and Yul's cock. It was Mistress' gloved fingers, testing, pressing. Chloe shivered as a leather-clad fingertip, delightfully slippery with something, perhaps her own juices, insinuated itself gently into the pinpoint now-hypothetical opening of her bottom.

Then, as the finger worked its way up inside her, Chloe watched Mistress reach over with her free hand, cup Glenn's butt, and pull him slowly towards her with the solid arch of his erection aimed squarely at her face. Mistress made momentary eye-contact with Chloe in the big mirror, and whispered "Watch! Mix the sensations, dear... mix together whatever sensations come from your pussy and your butt and your eyes. Enjoy yourself, enjoy how all of us are enjoying ourselves!"

She slowly inhaled the entire length of Glenn's cock, nuzzling her nose along the smooth skin at the base of his cock. As the cock disappeared, Chloe could feel Mistress' two fingers penetrating her rectum in perfect time with the disappearance of Yul's cockshaft. Then Mistress was cycling Glenn into and out of her throat, her fingers in and out of Chloe's bottom.

Chloe was on fire, beginning to writhe against her perfect dildo, seeking relief. It wasn't time yet. Mistress pulled herself away from Glenn, letting his wet, shiny cock dangle free, and pulled away, too, from Chloe's bottom. Chloe was almost frantic with need now: surely she wasn't going to be left high and dry, was she?

Then, behind her, a commotion. More oil. Pressure, against her anus again. Glenn, directed by Mistress, squatted behind her, their three sets of legs making an interesting tangle. Glenn, being careful, rigid with desire yet being certain not to harm her. She pressed back, couldn't move, held by the anchor of Yul's cock.

Her bottom opened gracefully, with unexpected ease, to Glenn's pressure. She felt the stretch as the head slipped in: there was a definite feeling of "pop", in slow-motion, as her sphincter clenched gently behind the rim of the head. Glenn stopped for a second, let her accommodate, then slid steadily forward, expanding and swelling her innermost space, sliding along Yul's cock vein-to-vein, separated from him by only the two thin sheaths. A mere silly millimeter.

The sensation of being doubly-penetrated made Chloe unexpectedly frantic with lust. Glenn didn't stop until his pubes and hip-bones were pressed solidly against her buttocks, his weight and thrust driving Chloe's pelvis hard down against Yul's. Her clit was trapped, delightfully, and appeared to be on fire. Sandwich.

An all-meat sandwich, no bread. The Earl would not be amused, his recipe violated by these insolent colonists!

Through her purple haze, Chloe wished she could see herself from the outside, so she could study this double-pronged impalement. What, she wondered, were the men feeling? Were their balls touching, down there between her legs? The notion was almost comic. Did that bother them? Or was there some tinge of homoerotic brotherhood involved in sharing a woman this intimately, this simultaneously, and in so doing inevitably adding to one-another's physical pleasures?

Chloe sighed. She should burst. It was impossible to be so full, and not to burst. But instead, she accommodated them both as they gently began to move. The motion massaged her clit like nothing ever before. Through her own building intensity, Chloe could feel that the two men inside her were exploring one another as much as pleasuring her. And pleasuring her they were. This double-barreled penetration, with its almost-too-full-to-believe tension, seemed to bode well to kill her with pleasure, didn't it?