Nat and Sandy Pay the Rent Ch. 03

Alan, whatever the tone of his voice, was delighted with the first few messy results. The next two urgent ejaculations splurged into Sandy's lovely, wincing face, utterly smothering it in a thick, white pudding of spunk. Globs of the stuff clung to her hair and a long, melting icicle of cum swung from her lower lip and chin. But Alan wanted so much more. Grabbing her under the arms, he pulled her down backwards, so that she lay prone before the unruly, snaking queue of erect cocks, propping up her beautiful body with trembling arms. 'Right lads,' he said, with deep-seated enjoyment. 'Fire at will. Fucking drown her.'

No second bidding was required - these men were desperate to unburden themselves. Three were already before her, like competitors in some frantic wanking competition. They were already incensed by seeing the drenching of Sandy's shocked face and as soon as one began to come, the others sparked instantly. The trio united in a great orgasmic roar, their bodies wracked with climactic tremoring, and together they directed three great arcs of cum towards the girl's exposed flesh with spectacular results. One of the prolonged sperm-gushes splashed messily over her flat stomach, pooling in her belly-button and washing over her slim waist in rivulets, while the other two broke extravagantly on her beautiful tits, scattering a spume of thick droplets over her neck, chin and hair. As the projectile cum-shots petered out, they dribbled over her pussy and firm upper thighs.

Sandy was gasping and jolting each time her body was struck by the sticky male essence and from that point on did not have to wait long for each new impact. Men were breaking rank and rushing forward, masturbating frantically to jettison their seed on to her lightly tanned skin. Within seconds her body was deluged, as cocks propelled their impressive loads towards her from a half dozen directions. Jets from either side further splattered her boobs, leaving them coated with thick, pearly gunk. Another blast took her under the chin, sluicing back into her hair, while one crazed ejaculator had the privilege of spurting his semen liberally over her bare cunt. Two more cocks unleashed another dousing of semen into her face, but at such an acute angle this time that her nostrils were flooded as well as her mouth.

Sandy came up from her prone position spluttering hard, so that the spunk was expelled from her mouth and nose, splatting on to the linoleum. 'Please please stop, I can't see!' she cried, her voice thick from its most recent helping of cum.

'There's a towel out in front of you, reach for it!' Alan called, and she knelt, reaching forward blindly, jism dripping thickly from her face and nipples. But there was of course no towel - just a further outburst of raucous, orgasmic cries, followed by a barrage of cum-blasts, that burst over her face, tits and searching arms. She gave a muffled squeal and shied away from the sticky onslaught, but her heel skidded on the semen that was starting to puddle on the lino and she fell back, her ass landing on the plastic surface with a wet slap.

The guys roared their laughing approval and those who had still to have their turn crowded in around her, ready to spend every ounce of their sap on her. They were joined by a good number of the whole-evening crowd, who were turned on sufficiently to produce one more hearty gift of semem. The air grew dense with animalistic male bellowing, as the vehemently-pumped cocks began to unload one by one, engulfing Sandy's naked form in a torrential downpour of hot sperm. Great wet cum-bolts slapped into the sides of her face, until her ears clogged and the locks of her chestnut hair oozed with the stuff. Geysers of fresh spunk pummelled her chest and washed around the curves of her breasts like a stream in spate, while other jets soaked her thighs and stomach. She raised supplicating hands, tried to protect her face, but there was no escaping the all-consuming, gooey rain of cum, as it enveloped her body. Over a dozen obscenity-howling, raging men pounded their cocks, till they had spewed all the thick, white life-juice out of their balls, over a pretty, big-titted twenty-year-old. Sandy lay exhausted as the rain finally abated and the last few drops scattered themselves over her, leaving her coated from head to foot in a glistening cocktail of sperm. She looked, for all the world, as if she had been dunked in a great vat of wallpaper paste.

'Get up,' said Alan. There was so much cum in her ears, she scarcely heard him. 'Get up on your knees!' he barked at her, and she did so, spitting goo and wishing it would all just end. 'Wash yourself in it.' What? One more time that night, she did not immediately understand. 'Like you're in the shower, Sandy - I want to see you rub it in like soap!' She did not want to, but he made her do it, in front of the roomful of male strangers. He made her lather her tits and stomach with the thick semen that dripped from her body. He made her smooth it over her thighs and smear it liberally between her legs. He insisted that she mop the lino clean with her hair, until it hung round her face in rats' tails, thick with spunk.

And Natasha watched it all, in mute astonishment.

Even as the room's tide of lust ebbed out, Alan's own slow-burning libido was finally peaking. Throughout the evening he had orchestrated everyone else's desire and provided his own photographic record, while the others satisfied themselves. He had sublimated his own carnal longings, channelling them into his control of young Sandy - the long-term object of his most twisted fantasies, all of which he had made real tonight. All but one, and that the most obvious.

'That's right, Sandy, scrub yourself in it.' He advanced on her with serious intent and a cock that pointed to the ceiling. 'Wash that pretty face in spunk - here, like this!' He scooped a large glob of thickening cum from her pussy and smeared it nastily over her protesting face. 'Christ, you've been such a good little slut tonight,' he breathed hoarsely into her ear, as he collected more spunk from under her tits and fed it into her helpless mouth. 'You've been my obedient little slut-girl and it's almost all finished. Just one thing.' He threw her down on to all fours and climbed behind her as she squealed, forcing her thighs roughly apart. Then he spat on his cock and smeared the saliva down its thick shaft; it was to be his only concession. 'I know I said there's wasn't going to be any more fucking tonight.' His breath was ragged, as he pulled her bum cheeks apart and fitted his bulging cock-head into the entry to her asshole. 'Well I lied.' Grabbing tight hold of her sticky thighs, he rammed his cock deep into her ass, and buggered her furiously.

Sandy's screams rent the air. Natasha too cried out, struggling to run to her friend's aid, only to be restrained by her guards. She could only listen, listen and watch, as her innocent friend's degradation was made complete. Before her eyes Alan continued to deliver his near-deranged fucking. The evening's proceedings had inspired in him a demented lust the like of which Natasha had seldom seen before, and he was taking it all out on the pretty girl's tender, young bottom.

'Come on, Sandy, take it up the ass one more time, take it up the ass like a good whore!' He took a handful of her slick, messy hair and dragged her head back, as his powerful, steel pole continued to plough her shithole, his swollen balls bouncing off her flushed cheeks. Her howls filled the room, only inspiring him to greater fierceness. 'That's it, Sandy, let's hear you! Fucking take my cock!' he yelled, coring her ass like a ripe apple. 'Fucking take it! This is how you pay the rent, you hear me? This is how you pay the fucking rent!'

The hot surge overtook him. Sandy's asshole remained tight, even after a long evening's attempts to fuck it wide open, and it seemed to be sucking the cum from his balls. His sac contracted fiercely and he felt the spunk burst from his deeply impacted cock. He threw his head back and let out a raging scream, as he fired his pent-up load jet after urgent jet into Sandy's innermost recesses, till he had drained himself dry. Then, all sexual craving assuaged, he let go of her hair and let her fall, his cock, messy with semen, plopping from her ass. She flopped back down on to the lino with a wet slap - and it was over.

***********

They rolled Sandy up, still naked, in the sheet of linoleum and dumped her in the back of Alan's car. Natasha protested bitterly, but they laughingly told her to shut up and get her clothes. She struggled back into her knickers and cocktail dress and collected her shoes, picking up Sandy's discarded items while she was at it. Then she made her way to the waiting vehicle as swiftly and unobtrusively as she could.

There was silence the whole journey back to their rented apartment - sullen on Natasha's part and the Zen-like calm of a man who has fucked his way to happiness on that of Alan. Only Sandy's occasional sniffles from the back punctuated the conversational void. Alan helped Natasha haul the rolled-up Sandy into the living-room and on to the floor, where she lay in exhausted semi-consciousness, as the final business was conducted at the door.

'Three thousand pounds, less the rent money - and I've thrown in a few extra hundred for Sandy's bukkake show,' said Alan, slapping a hefty brown envelope into Natasha's hands. 'You can't say I don't pay for my pleasures. And don't ask me to count it, Nat - you'll find it's all there.'

'Just go,' Natasha snapped bitterly. 'And you needn't call round next rent day either - I'll have the money paid into your account directly for the duration of the contract. I don't think Sandy should have to set her eyes on you again if possible, should she?'

'Whatever you say,' Alan said mildly, turning to leave. He paused, sudden amusement playing on his lips. 'I'm planning an event with Ben a month from now - house party - one, maybe two girls entertaining upwards of fifty guys over one very long weekend. Going to call it Spunktacular - should be a unique occasion, if we find the right girls. And after tonight's sterling effort it only seems right to give you and Sandy first refusal...' 'Fuck off, you seedy bastard.'

'Okay,' he shrugged. 'Can't say I didn't offer. You gals sleep well - I know I will.'

Once he had left, Natasha set about helping the shaken and exhausted Sandy. She peeled her from her gluey cocoon and guided her to the bathroom, wrapped in a bed sheet. There she sat the girl's bruised bottom gently down in a bathful of hot, soapy water and sponged her clean of the drying cum that was forming a thick, white crust over her entire body, rinsing her hair several times to cleanse it of congealing man-gunk. She towelled her down with tender, guilty compassion and wrapped her in a fluffy, white bathrobe, before blow-drying and brushing her hair to something approaching its normal, wavy sheen. Sandy accepted her friend's solicitude - including the nightcap of rum-laced hot milk - with passive thankfulness, drooping into a worn-out slumber, before she had finished the drink.

It was only the next day that Sandy, painfully sore in both her holes and aching across the whole of her manhandled body, broke down and sobbed the initial shock and horror of the previous evening out of her system. Natasha held her till she was done, then plumped her pillows and pampered her in sisterly fashion for the rest of the weekend, ignoring her own bruises from the recent, vigorous working-over of her own body. On Sunday evening she finally displayed the money, all accounted for, drawing from her friend a weak but relieved smile. At least Friday night's trauma had not been for nothing.

Natasha made phone-calls to the café where Sandy worked and to the members of her band, buying her recuperative time off work the following week with a story of severe influenza. Then she sat with her roommate - the two of them eating chocolate in front of day-time chat shows - or took her out for expensive shopping trips or threw two-person champagne-fuelled barbecues on their apartment balcony. And gradually she managed to coax out something of the cheerfully giggling girl she was used to. There were setbacks, not least when Sandy bumped into Ryan down at the local video store and he made some bumbling attempt at talking to her; she had stormed home in angry tears after that one. By the time two weeks had passed, however, she was working her day job again and had allowed herself to be cajoled back on to the stage at Morrison's. There she lost herself in the music of Shakira and Celine Dion once more and forgot, if only temporarily, about Alan's party.

*************

It was Saturday morning, two weeks on from the great gangbang, when Sandy answered the door, Natasha having left for the gym, to a postman laden with an apparent bush's-worth of red roses and a large, flat box, gift-wrapped in silver paper. The gifts were, it turned out, meant for her and she signed for them blankly. It was only when she was carrying the flowers back through the hallway, that she spied the curlicued writing on the accompanying card.

To our own little cum-princess. Thanks from all the guys. X

Everything she was holding tumbled to the floor, scattering petals across the carpet. She stared at the box where it lay scattered amongst the wreckage of flowers, a sense of horror prickling her scalp. Lifting it like it were about to explode, she carried it to the kitchen table and tore off the wrapping to reveal a white box. She prised off the lid, her heart trying to pound its way upwards into her throat. Beneath two transparent sheets of rice paper lay a white-bound photo album. Like a wedding album, Sandy thought. Her hands were trembling, as she drew it out of the box and laid it down on the table. And she could feel her eyes smarting with the start of tears, as she leafed her way through the book, horrified but compelled.

There she was, flashing her breasts before the amassed guys in Alan's living-room. She had not even been aware of that one being taken. And again, blindfolded with a cock thrust into her mouth, wanking two others in her fists. Being taken hard on the bed by Gavin. On her knees before him, guzzling the huge mouthful of sperm he had just delivered. She turned urgently through the pages, taking in image after obscene image. Filled at both ends with cock by Darren and Steve. Or crawling over the floor with an apple in her mouth and a plug in her ass. Or on all fours being anally pounded by Kyle. She flicked faster and faster, the whole debauched evening laid out before her in explicit pictures. Now she was helplessly upturned on Ben's cock, her breasts and pussy exposed to the world. And snared in the middle of three guys, their cocks buried in her to the balls. Chained and ravished in the bathroom. And then numerous shots of her being ejaculated on, till she was unrecognisable beneath a great porridge of thick spunk.

She slapped the book shut, near distract with panic and rage, and looked around frantically; she had to find some means of destroying those appalling photographs. On an inspiration she tore her way through the kitchen cupboards, till she hunted out matches and a can of lighter fluid. Then she rushed outside to the balcony, flung the book down on the barbecue grill and doused it with every drop of fluid in the can. She tossed the container aside and struggled with the matches furiously and clumsily in her desperation. The first one broke as she attempted to strike it. So did the second. She grabbed for a third, but fumbled her effort and the entire boxful spilled to ground. Incensed she dropped to her knees and scrabbled after the matches on the cement surface. Then it all became too much. She broke down, a host of conflicting emotions caving in on her, and sobbed herself dry.

************

Natasha was alarmed, on returning from the gym, to find Sandy curled in an armchair, withdrawn and pensive. There was no indication as to what had plunged the young girl back into silent mood, and she seemed disinclined to discuss it. Natasha brooded through the entire day. That single Friday night had provided her the breathing space she had craved. Her rent was paid and she could meet her credit bills till beyond her exams, giving her all the study time she needed. All at a cost to Sandy. It had been absurd, she thought, to think that the girl could shake off events at Alan's party like she would a head cold or a bad date. Too convenient on Natasha's conscience. She had convinced herself that a few girls' days out and some big-sister tlc could pay back the debt that she owed. Divesting herself of guilt was not going to be that easy.

Sandy had vanished into her room for an early night, it seemed, when Natasha made the call. She winced at the delight in Alan's voice on the other end of the line. 'What, you and Sandy are going to do a full weekend? I'm amazed!'

'Not Sandy,' Natasha told him flatly. 'I'll do it alone or you can bring in someone else as well, but Sandy'll never be near your place again. Take it or leave it.'

'Oh I'll take it, believe me. Pity about Sandy, but one way or another we'll line up quite a time for you, Nat. Minimum fifty guys - it should be a challenge, even for you.'

Natasha sighed wearily. 'Spare me the bullshit, Alan. Just give me the details.'

By the time she put the phone down, she was under no doubt as to what Alan's Spunktacular event would entail. It would be a long, draining fuckathon, that would drive her to the edge of her endurance. They would bang her till she lost consciousness from sheer exhaustion and then keep going for a while. And when she woke up they would fuck her all over again. On the plus side, it would earn her another three thousand pounds. Three thousand pounds that she knew she owed.

'Okay, sweetheart,' she said, casting her eyes up the stairs towards Sandy's bedroom. 'Where'd you like to go on holiday this time?'

************

In her room Sandy was not asleep. The night was hot and she had stripped off her silk nightdress to lie naked on her bed. Her right hand was thrust between her legs and her middle finger was rotating busily on her engorged, wet clitoris. With her other hand she pinched and tugged on her erect nipples, moaning forlornly as the sensation, nearly painful in its intensity, built up between her legs.

Beside her on the bed was the photo album, mopped clean, but still reeking of lighter fluid. It lay open at a series of particularly graphic scenes, in which her mouth, pussy and ass were seen to take the full force of a series of hard dicks, while numerous spectators leered in the background. She recalled it all so vividly - the pulsating anger of the cocks thrust in her face, the recklessness with which those cocks had ravaged her holes, the taste and feel of the hot, male seed in which she had been all but drowned.

Tears of shame coursed down her cheeks, as she came - came with a force that shook her twenty-year-old body to its very core.

THE END

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