Joan Redux

I lay next to Joan, both of us tied across the big table, face down, our hands dragged forward over our heads. My pants had been pulled off, and Joan was almost completely nude, her jeans pulled off, her shirt up round her neck and her bra dragged up so her hard little breasts were squashed bare against the scarred wooden surface. Her strong tan lines looked surreal in this bizarre scene.

I felt the pressure of something firm and slimy against my anus, something insistent. There was a strong smell of something, which it took me a moment to identify as of olive oil, and I realised my anus was being probed by a big finger with oil on it. I looked over at Joan's bound, helpless form and saw that their leader was probing her anus too, his fingers and in fact his whole hand dripping with oil.

As I watched, he opened his pants. His thick, stiff penis emerged and he slathered it in oil, though this seemed superfluous because he was already dripping with clear runny spunk. He aligned himself behind Joan, and the thick head of his penis disappeared from my view between the cheeks of her bum. Then he grabbed her hips and I could see he began pressure on her anus with his glistening penis. It looked very big to be seeking entry. I heard Joan gasp and pant as he pressed the head onto her, heard her groan as she involuntarily opened up and accepted him into her anus. And I felt the same things myself as the man behind me pressed himself unrelentingly onto me, opening me up, into me.

Joan began panting in rhythm with the thrusts of the man working her bum, and the noise seemed to fill the whole room. Her back was arched from the strain of taking such a large object up her anus and I watched her, thinking 'she's almost certainly never done this before'.

As I watched, a third man - the one who had dispatched our little rental car on it's last journey, over the cliff - came into my field of vision. He was standing beside Joan's head and unbuttoning his fly, not in a hurry. I don't think Joan clicked as to what he was going to do, not right away. He took his penis out, already stiff - I suppose it had excited him to watch Joan's tight little bare bum being penetrated like that - and he handled himself right in front of her face, sliding his hand up his shaft then over the head, then repeating it.

I could see that he was bringing up spunk, and it took only a moment for him to do it - a shiny bubble of it appeared between his fingers, and he used his fist to bring up more of it and smear it all over the big solid-looking head. Then he moved forward, closing the gap between his penis and Joan's head, and touched the slimy head on Joan's face.

Joan hesitated a moment - I couldn't actually see her face, her head was turned away from me - but after a moment I saw the car-dispatcher move forward some more and I knew that Joan must have accepted his engorged penis into her mouth. She gagged convulsively for a moment as the head of his penis reached all the way to the back of her mouth, and he glanced at his comrade, the one who was sodomising her, and they both made animal noises of amusement, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. Then he put a hand on her head and settled into having her please him with her mouth.

But that wasn't all - as soon as this had happened, I felt a hand on my own head, and turning away from Joan I found another stiff penis, waving right in my face, slimy already. The man - I couldn't see which one it was - guided it against my face and onto my lips. He slid it back and forth for a moment over my lips then said something in his own language, a command, and I opened my mouth for him. I was very ware of how far I had to open my mouth to let him in - the others had penises of relatively ordinary dimension, but this man was more towards the big side. I felt the hard slimy object slide over my tongue and all the way to the back, and like Joan, I coughed involuntarily as it touched the back of my throat.

The man said something in his own language and this time they all laughed.

My little digital camera chose this moment out fall out of my shirt pocked. It clattered on the table. The remaining bandit - there were five of them altogether - came over into my view and picked it up. Still standing beside the man whose penis I was sucking, he examined it suspiciously, then smiled and turned it on and - began to take photos of us!

* * *

I hinted earlier that I had actually been sodomised before, and I should now mention that this wasn't the first time I'd performed fellatio either, in fact fellatio was a fairly common feature of life at certain institutions of learning in England.

This didn't alter the dread of the situation, the fear that we could be killed or something, but the fact that I had been made to perform these acts on previous occasions did temper the squalor of this particular experience. For me, at any rate. Perhaps not for my wife. Poor Joan.

The bandit who had his penis in my mouth apparently knew that it's fairly difficult to achieve orgasm from oral stimulation alone, because he was supplementing my own efforts by masturbating himself as well, guiding his penis in and out of my mouth with his fist, and also fisting himself at the same time. I could just see his face, above my head, and he was watching Joan. After only half a minute he started panting and I could feel his penis swell and become even more slimy. Then, abruptly, he groaned and his hand tightened urgently on the back of my head as he squirted two or three gouts right into my mouth.

He stood stock still for a few seconds, then let out a long sigh and withdrew his penis so it hovered just in front of my face. Another command, and I licked the rest of the stringy mixture of saliva and spunk off his penis. As I ran my tongue over the spongy, mushroomy head, I saw my camera come into my field of vision and the flash went, right in my face. The man laid his penis across my face and said something, and the camera flashed again. He chuckled and made another joke, and stepped away from me.

I felt a slowing and deepening of the thrusts in my anus, and that man too panted and groaned. He leaned forward till I could feel his big belly pressed on my bare bum, and he paused, and then pumped me deeply, so I could feel his penis throbbing and clenching all the way up my bum as he came in me. His full weight draped down onto me and he breathed deeply almost in my ear. After a moment he pulled himself up and drew out of me. The camera flashed again.

I turned my head back the other way on the table so that I could see Joan again, and found that she was going through the same experience - the car dispatcher was staring down at her intently, his face contorted into an unreadable expression - it looked almost like pain - as he came to orgasm in her mouth. I could see her bum too, flattened against the leader's big hairy belly, and I could feel from the rhythmic movement of the table we were both tied to, that the leader was bringing himself to orgasm in her anus. By the end, both of them - the leader and Joan too - were grunting with effort, as he worked on her to the last thrust.

Then he gave a long, exultant, satisfied sigh, and I watched as his belly slackened and sort of spread over her until her little bum was obscured from sight.

To be honest, I was glad I was tied face down on the table rather than face up, because my penis was as stiff as a bottle and even in these circumstances, perhaps especially in these circumstances, I would have been embarrassed for Joan to see that. Luckily, in the quiet minute after the ordeal was over, it subsided, and by the time we were untied, I was able to pull my pants on without any inappropriate display.

* * *

We were led over to the basement door and made to go back down there. They were less abusive now, less hostile - sated, I suppose, most of them anyway.

I was pleasantly surprised at how well Joan seemed to have weathered the experience. She wasn't exactly happy but she was fairly composed. I realised this was probably because, for her, the main fear had been that she would be raped. Now that she had been raped, that anxiety was at least partly extinguished. For me, the main fear was that we would be killed.

It was dark in the basement, and we lay in one another's arms on the bed, listening to the scrapes and footsteps coming through the ceiling as the men moved around in the rooms above us. Joan snuggled in against me, and the noise upstairs died away and then ceased altogether as they presumably went to sleep.

After quite a few minutes of silence Joan whispered in my ear "Is it true that lots of English boys had sex with other boys at school?"

I almost laughed out loud, it was such an unexpected question.

"Um, I've heard that too. Probably not at all schools, but at some of them, um, yes, I think there's some truth in that. So I've heard." I was going to add "and not just in England" but I held back, not wanting to encourage the idea that this was an area about which I was well-informed.

We lay in silence for another minute. Then she said "What about at your school?"

"Um, yes. It was true of my school."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You know what I mean - when they made you take it up your bum upstairs, it didn't seem to bother you too much, in fact I think I even saw that you were stiff, you know, your penis. So I thought, perhaps you've done that before - been um buggered like that I mean."

"Yes. I have."

"More than once?"

"Yes. Quite a lot more than once."

"And you - took a penis in your mouth before too?"

"Yes. I have. More than once. Look - it was quite common."

"No, I'm not ... blaming you."

We were silent for a moment more. Joan snuggled in against me again and whispered in my ear "In fact, it's quite exciting!"

" ... that I performed fellatio? Or that I was sodomised? Or ... what?"

"Both of them. It's strange, but it's always been exciting for me to think of that, you know, two men together. I never asked you about if you'd done it because you seemed so proper and I thought you probably hadn't. Didn't. Wouldn't."

And in the dark, I felt her hand sneak onto my penis and begin squeezing the head through my pants. I was a bit embarrassed because her conversation had made me instantly stiff again, and now of course she had discovered this.

"It excites you too, mmh?" she said, and laughed.

"Yes" I managed to breathe as she worked her hand inside my pants - they were still undone from upstairs - and formed her little fist over the head. I was spunking too and she laughed again as it made a distinctly audible 'squelch' noise under her fist.

"Tell me," she whispered, beginning to slide her closed fist slowly back and forth over the slimy knob. "Tell me about what you did. I want to hear."

I tried to collect my thoughts. This was a very unexpected turn of events.

"Well, um, it was just very common. You got propositioned and it was customary to go along with it."

"With - doing it with your mouth?"

"Yes, particularly that, yes, that was very popular."

"How did you do it?"

"Well, you just put your mouth over the penis ..."

" ... like this?" and she slid down and fed my painfully stiff erection from her fist into her mouth.

"Yes, like that, but not using your teeth, you have to make sure not to use your teeth at all," and as I told her this, I remembered the strange expression on the bandit's face as he'd come in Joan's mouth upstairs, and I realised it had indeed been one of pain.

Joan opened her mouth wider and curved her lips down to follow my coaching. She moved her head back and forth for a minute over my penis. I thought of the remnants of spunk that must still be there in her mouth and had a small, furtive, depraved thrill at the thought.

Joan stopped and asked "When the bandit was making me do this upstairs, he sort of masturbated himself into my mouth at the same time - is that normal too?" No-one ever said Joan was slow on the uptake.

"Yes. The fact is that the stimulation of a mouth on it's own is often insufficient to bring about orgasm."

"You sound as if you're teaching a seminar about it."

"I thought I was ..."

She laughed. "So, do that too - masturbate while I um - fellate you? Suck you? Oral you? What's the right word?"

I took my engorged penis in my hand and answered "Any of those will do."

"What word did you use?"

"At school?"

"Yes, where else would I mean? Was there somewhere else too?"

"Well - let's come back to that."

"OK. But what word did you use - at school?"

"Nosh."

Joan burst out laughing.

"Shhh! They'll hear us!" I whispered urgently.

"Nosh?! You used the word 'nosh' for this!? You did not! Pull the other one!"

"No, really, that was the word we used." This wasn't heading in the direction I had been hoping. But perhaps Joan sensed this too because she settled her head back onto my penis and took it in her mouth again. I used my fist to travel back and forth, along the shaft and over the knob and back again, as she noshed me.

After a minute she stopped. She put her hand over my fist and moved it up and down, indicating to me to continue masturbating. Then she came up and whispered in my ear

"You did this, just like I'm doing it?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Many times."

"How many?"

"I don't know." I thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps ... I don't know - at least once a week for er several years ... two or three hundred times?"

"You were a popular number?"

"I suppose I was, yes, hadn't really thought of it like that, but ... yes."

"Was it exciting?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes, it's really exciting. I know everybody thinks of me as a very straight-forward girl, that I just fuck like a bunny and that's it. But actually I've always had ... dirty thoughts."

" 'Dirty thoughts?' "

"Things that I wouldn't do, or even talk about, but that the idea of them excited me."

"Yes, I think everyone has those, well, most people anyway."

"But mine are really dirty."

" ..."

"Well, for one thing - what happened to us upstairs ,,,"

"You like the idea of being raped?"

"Yes, sort of. Though only the idea. The reality is much too frightening. And ... the idea of being done by two men too, being pushed around a bit, being made to do things for them. And ... being tied up. I suppose it's a whole range of things to do with being ..." she trailed off.

"Forced?"

"Yes, that's it. Being forced to take my clothes off, being forced to suck a man's cock, being forced to take it up the bum. I used to fantasise that I was being kept in a cell, and I'd be in the nude, and there'd be these big heavy men with big sort of pendulous balls, and every now and then one of them would come and see me, and lock the door behind him, and I'd have to serve him with my mouth and my hands, and then he'd make me lie on the bed on my tummy and he'd lie on top of me, very heavy and sort of with a big belly, and he'd bum me."

"Yes, I think a lot of people have ... fantasies like that."

"And sometimes, I'm with my boyfriend ..."

"Me?"

"Well, yes, now it's you, but this goes back before I even knew you. But anyway, we would both be kept in the cell, in the nude, and we'd both have to serve the men."

"Sucking his cock and so on?"

"Yes. And being forced to. Even a bit like what they did to us upstairs. It was awful, and scary, and ... but I have to admit that while they were doing us the fantasies I had were floating around in my head. And when that man started masturbating himself in my mouth ... it was so, I don't know, crude and lascivious and, obscene, that it was exciting. I wished I'd had a hand free to masturbate myself."

"I know what you mean. You definitely don't want it to happen like that, or happen for real at all, but ... the whole theme is overwhelmingly exciting. I was excited too - as well as scared, of course - but I didn't know you were."

"Well I knew you were because I saw you were stiff! I'm sure you would have masturbated if you'd been able to."

"Yes."

"When you used to do things - did you masturbate yourself while you were noshing someone?"

"Um. Sometimes. I wanted to, but ... sometimes not ..."

"Why not?"

"Well, because some of them would want me to, um, use my hands too."

"What for?"

"To masturbate them while I noshed them. And sometimes also to handle their testicles. And sometimes ..."

"Yes?" Joan's breathing was becoming a little bit ragged in my ear and I realised she was masturbating herself. "And sometimes what?"

"Well, to put a finger on their anus, to work a finger right into their anus. While I noshed them." Joan's breathing was beyond ragged, she was panting.

"Oh, fuck!" she breathed. "That's ... so ... perverted!" And as she breathed this in my ear I felt her free hand snaking down under my balls to touch my perineum. She kept going.

"To do that" I whispered to her "to do that, you usually need to take some of my spunk and some of your saliva to, you know, make the person's bum slimy."

"But not in this case" she whispered back in my ear, and she wormed her finger onto my anus, squelching on the remnants of the bandit's spunk that was still there. "But ... what else did they make you do?" she insisted.

"Well." There was so much more, where to begin? But the effects of masturbating myself while having my balls and my anus pleased by her hand, plus the deliciously lewd turn the conversation had taken were all impairing my speed of thought. I cleared my head a bit and whispered "Well, if you think that's perverted ... sometimes - I wouldn't recommend it at this very moment, you understand - but sometimes I had to go all the way down under and put my face right between the muscles of the person's bum, and kiss right in their crack."

Joan let out a gasp and her whole body clenched as if she was having a fit. I turned my head and whispered right in her ear

"... and while I was doing that, the person would masturbate themselves, and I would have to lick up and down in the person's crack and then work my tongue actually into, you know, into ..."

"Oh Fuck! Into his hole!" Joan gasped hoarsely in my ear, and she gave one last tectonic shudder, and lay still.

***

We both drifted off to sleep, and as I lost consciousness the last thing I thought was that I'd forgotten to tell Joan the interesting thing I'd noticed while we were being sodomised upstairs.

"What?" she asked a few hours later when we were awake again, snuggled next to each other in bed.

"Outside the window, leaning against the house ..."

"A motorbike. Yes, I saw it too. But - so what?"

"Well, if we get the chance of getting outside, there's possibly a way of escaping. We could steal it!"

"Who's going to ride it?"

"I am."

"You could ride that thing? A strapping young man like you?" This was her standing joke about my physique, her polite way of saying 'a puny little twat like you'. I am rather slight of build, always have been.

"Yes. I could definitely ride it."

"Over this ground? It's like a rock garden out there."

"I was first in my year at 'Cross."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I could ride that bike out of here if I got ..."

"Ow!" she said suddenly, quite loud, right in my ear.

"What is it?" She had really startled me. She struggled to roll herself clear of the bed.

"There's something digging into me," she said. After a moment she brought her hand back up and showed me. I could see there was something in her hand but in the dark I couldn't tell what. A mouse? A ... I shuddered to think.

"It's my mobile."

"You've still got your mobile?"

"Yes, haven't you?"

"No, mine was in my flight bag ... in the car. I tried it back at the car rental though. Didn't work, no signal."