Ruth's Therapy Ch. 11

That was when she felt it -- the first penis pressing against the lips of her sex. Ruth knew that her hole was wet and open and that these men were lining up to use it. The old Ruth would have hated that thought, would have protested. But the new Ruth was a wicked whore who accepted her fate. She had been trained for this, made to realise that her body was best used for the pleasure of others.

He thrust hard, burying the first inches of his cock in her hole. Ruth groaned exultantly -- even the pain of his rough ramming was a thrill as her slutty, married hole was forced to accept his size. Sex with a stranger, adulterous and submissive as she let him use her body. Her cunt gushed some more as the man quickly took up the rhythm of his hard, fast fucking. This was the kind of fucking she needed nowadays and she was grateful that he was stretching her, making her ready for the others.

The others? Multiple men -- strangers -- were going to penetrate her. She'd been taught to fear such a thing but her dreams had been too powerful. It was happening and Ruth was aware that she was exhilarated by it.

"I bet she's tight," said one man.

"Married bitches are always tight," came the reply. Was that from the man inside her? "Cos their husbands don't fuck' em properly."

Ruth felt a spasm in her cunt at those words. Oh, how true it was. And these men were determined to fuck her properly -- all of them. She tried to groan, a sound of pleasure, as she felt the man's balls slap against her butt each time he bottomed out in her still straining hole.

A fresh cock was forced into her mouth. Someone bit on her nipples. She screamed her pain but knew it was pointless -- there would be no respite. The men were using her and she wanted nothing more than to submit and to yield to their every dirty desire.

There were no introductions, no acknowledgements. A new man took his place between her legs. She thought it might be the driver with his thinner cock thrusting eagerly, too fast. But she was blinded by the other man who began to rub his saliva-coated cock and his testicles all over her face. Ruth knew that these strangers were degrading her, abusing her, and she eagerly stuck out her tongue to lick his genitals.

The hands gripping her ankles changed. Ruth had a fleeting thought that this was the moment she ought to flee. But these men were too hungry, too needy for her body. Ruth had no intention of fleeing. Her body was meant to be used --she was a submissive slut whose true desire was to service these men and allow them to take her holes however they wished.

Not that she had a choice as yet a third man penetrated her, kneeling between her shapely outstretched legs to fill her opening with his cock. This one was thicker -- Ruth had lost track of which man had which dick. But she moaned her appreciation for the way he quickly filled her hole. Any one of these men could fuck her better than her husband. The years of pent-up frustration, of hidden need, were replaced by pure joy of being gang-banged by this relentless group of men.

"What a sexy bitch."

"All whores should be this good."

There were so many hands on her naked body. Each man wanted to use her, to thrust into her. Yet, each in turn surrendered his place to a friend and contented himself instead with fondling and groping her shapely, sexy body.

So many hard cocks penetrating her mouth and her cunt. And Ruth realised that she was enjoying the thicker shaft in her hole. This man was reaming her expertly. His screwing was delightful, not so frenzied but still going deep, his balls slapping against her cunt lips. The experience of being fucked -- truly fucked -- was exhilarating. After their rapid-fire fucking and changeovers, this man was just what she needed. She felt a deep shame as she realised that she was about to orgasm.

"She's a tight one."

"I told you. The married one are the best fucks."

Ruth felt a delicious surge in her cunt at hearing how pleased they were, at knowing how well she was servicing them. That thought pushed her over the edge and she was cumming as a stranger reamed her married cunt. Of course she cried out, groaning despite her mouth being stuffed full of thrusting cock meat. But she could not help herself. The whole scene was so depraved, so wrong -- and she was so totally submissive to these strangers. Ruth had never guessed that she could be so turned-on but that thick penis felt as wonderful as any man could.

"She loves it. The dirty slut."

"Wait till I give it to her."

Stirred by the response of the helpless older woman, the men roughly flipped her onto all fours -- doggy position. Ruth could not suppress a ripple of need as they forced her down on hands and knees. Her flanks were presented perfectly. Her heavy breasts were hanging down. The men agreed silently that she had a fine, shapely body. Ruth could think only that doggy was her favourite way to be fucked. The old Ruth, married and conservative, would have felt deep shame at being positioned like this before five horny men. The new Ruth, thanks to the kinky therapy, was already anxious to be penetrated anew. To take their cocks deeper into her hot, wet hole.

It was Peter who took advantage first -- jamming his huge meat into her mouth. Ruth could feel the ache in her jaw after being used roughly, repeatedly. But he made his intentions clear, yanking a handful of hair to force her head back and her mouth open for his bulk. There was no protest from Ruth. It was an honour to be used by the wonderful Peter. And, anyway, the ache in her mouth was forgotten as another man re-filled her cunt with his rock-hard manhood.

"Fuck her good," cried one. "Send her home used and sore."

Ruth could feel her cunt muscles wrapping around the shaft as it began to hammer her hole. Hands reached underneath to grope her hanging breasts. Someone slapped her bottom, the sharp sounds rising above her grunts of pain as an unseen hand whaled against both cheeks of her shapely, jiggling bum.

But the hard shaft reaming her from behind was a thing of pure delight. Ruth wished she could savour his wonderful fucking but she came anyway -- hard and loud. She was being plundered and ruined by these filthy men. But that made her orgasm all the more intense. There was no escape, not least because she herself was committed to enduring any and all violations. Her climax was so intense that she almost could not breathe and it was a relief when Peter relinquished his place in her mouth.

"Bust her cunt," someone said as a new man pressed the head of his cock past her lips of her married.

"I need to hold my load," came the reply.

But Ruth was already cumming again as a different cock, a new girth and length, filled her abused hole. When someone slipped their leather belt around her neck she lost control not only of her body but her mind. The hard strap was so much more primal than her regular collar. And the same man was pulling it tight around her neck, threatening to choke her as once more a new prick was shoved into her cunt.

"She's like a dog on heat," commented one man, impressed by the intensity of her orgasms as a fresh cock pounded her hole from behind.

"Wait till she takes that biggie,"

Someone was referring to Peter. The moment had arrived -- her wonderful young lover was going to use her body in front of his friends. She almost shivered anew at the mere thought of it, of the chance to truly serve the young Master. Ruth wanted him so badly. And to pleasure him.

Ruth wanted to say something -- but, of course, her mouth was filled and she was forced to focus on pleasuring the man who was fucking her face. Nothing needed to be said, however, as that familiar fat cock penetrated her tunnel. She felt his grip at her waist as the dominant young man stretched her wider than the others, forcing his bulk into her soaking hole. Her orgasm erupted at the delightful ache as her passage adjusted to his superb member.

"Look at that," commented one of the strangers.

"Yeah, bitch can take that big log in her married hole."

The slap of a hand on her bottom sent a stinging shock through her body. Ruth guessed that it was Master Peter's hand. It was followed quickly by a slap on the other side and her ears rang to the sound of his blows on her bare skin. Peter rammed deep into her and slapped her harder. But Ruth ignored the pain, proud to truly serve and please him. It was a degenerate thrill to let his friends see how she submitted to the wonderful Peter.

But that was nothing compared to how she felt when the man in her mouth announced that he could no longer contain himself.

"Give it to the bitch," one of the others cheered.

"Drink it, you trollop," the first one said as he grabbed two handfuls of her hair.

Ruth felt the shaft throb and twitch. With only a second's warning, she let her throat relax. The filthy stranger did not disappoint, hosing his thick, salty semen over her tongue and into her throat. She had dreamed of this -- being used and degraded so casually. And her therapy had trained her for this moment. It was everything she wanted as the happy, submissive married woman gratefully swallowed every blast of warm fluid.

Peter was still enjoying her cunt. His friends were treating her like a dirty animal. But Ruth knew the truth -- that was what she wanted. It was even better that she could submit to this for Peter, to prove to them both that the once conservative wife was destined to serve him faithfully.

The next man did not use her mouth. She was almost grateful for that, for the rest it afforded her aching jaw. There was no mistaking what this man intended. It was the driver and he'd seen instantly what a pretty, sexy woman she was. But he'd also agreed to help his friends desecrate this once proper woman and the opportunity was more than he could resist. They would send her home to her husband afterwards and the driver was excited by the opportunity to mark her with his semen.

He yanked hard on the leather belt around d her neck. It hurt and, yet, Ruth thrilled at being trapped and bound. This was what she'd dreamed of. She was almost grateful when his cock spat and blasted a jet of sticky juice across her face. The driver noted that the bitch actually turned her face to him, as if eager to catch more of his load.

"What a fucking hottie," he groaned.

But the driver wanted to paint her, cover her. His next shot was aimed at her hair. Ruth felt the soft jet of cock juice splash against her. And he kept jerking his cock, depositing all of his seed over her head and letting it create a matted mess of the soft, brown hair.

Ruth heard the men celebrating. It was more than Master David and his friend had done. But she had a fleeting recall of that first time with Roy -- how he'd defiled her and, yet, left her wanting more. The special therapy of the evil Doctor Robyn had brought her to this place and Ruth almost smiled as she felt the stranger's semen dripping down her face and neck.

"Do her in the arse," one called out.

"Yeah, let me cum in her pussy," said another.

Now Ruth felt her fear returning. It was true that she was feeling totally submissive. And completely at the mercy of the sweet, young Peter. But she'd not counted on buggery. Besides, she'd understood that that place belonged only to Master David.

"He is too big for the bitch."

"Fuck her anyway, Peter," chimed in another.

Should she cry out? Should she beg for mercy? But Peter was already placing the tip of his big cock against her tight anus. And he was her Master, too, wasn't he? Ruth had wanted him to take her bottom, to use her most intimate place for his pleasure. She'd not imagined it like this but already her opening had stretched around the spongy head of his cock. There was no fear because, she reminded herself, she was a slut who enjoyed being sodomised by a man who controlled her.

Nor did she care that Peter's friends knew the truth about her. This was the ultimate gift to give to Peter. Ruth focused on him alone, the hardness of his shaft wedged inside her delicate hole. Being buggered surely was an unnatural act. But the forceful pressure in her back passage told her that Peter was intent in fucking her arse no matter what. She thought to cry out in pain but realised that it was no worse than she had endured with Master David. Anal sex was the precious gift she had wished for Peter and that thought made her determined to accept all of him. The rough thrusting, the burning in her passage, told Ruth that he'd already forced a couple of his inches into her rear end.

She was distracted momentarily when another of the strangers forced his hard cock into her mouth. Obediently, being a well-trained slut, Ruth closed her lips around him as he began to thrust. But behind her, Peter was forcing more of his thick, hard cock past her protesting sphincters. His thrusting, regular and insistent, was causing her body to rock against the cock in her mouth. He was on the verge of choking her but Ruth could think only of the dull pain in her bottom. That big cock felt so intense in her tight hole, as if she could feel every tiny bit of Peter's superb manhood.

The flooding in her mouth made no difference to the fucking in her dirty, tight hole. She did her best, of course, dutifully swallowing the warm cock juice as each blast gushed over her tongue. Ruth did allow herself a fleeting flash of pleasure at swallowing another load of semen, an act still denied her husband. But Peter was fucking her now, the burning in her passage fading a little as she felt herself open for his big cock. She felt like an animal, not least at the way her large breasts swung underneath in time to this humping.

Peter had no need to control himself, or to prolong his fucking of the helpless older slut. He'd already known that her tight backside would hold and caress his ramming cock just perfectly. The sudden arse-fuck must be uncomfortable for the dirty slut. But Peter was impressed at the depths of Ruth's submission and the thought that she would soon give herself totally to him. He quickened his thrusting as his balls began to tighten.

Someone took hold of the leather belt and pulled it tight around her throat. Ruth had never dreamed of such depravity, not even in her fevered imaginings. This group of strangers had made her into a sex object -- used and abused. The strap around her neck was the final triumph of her therapy and her new life. Her brain boiled over with the exultation and the sheer physical delight. No orgasm for her but this would be the most memorable night of her life.

And then she was aware, somehow, that the wonderful Peter was cumming in her bottom. The power of his thrusting changed ever so slightly. His grip on her waist tightened. And she could hear a distant grunting as a man unleashed his flood of semen. How she enjoyed that sound, even more now that she had learned how to make a man cum. And the wonderful Master Peter was enjoying her arsehole, shooting the contents of his balls deep inside her bowels. She wished for him to have only the most satisfying climax as he used her anal passage. A warm glow of pride overtook her as she imagined the younger man's precious cum pooling inside her.

"Now for her cunt," growled Mickey.

He took Peter's place behind her, ignoring her tortured anus. Which was just as well since he was determined to slam his dick into the helpless wife and mother. She felt his fucking was far less enjoyable than Peter's had been. He was the last of the men to blast his juices onto or into Ruth -- for him it was a gratuitous thrusting, little more than a final degradation of the submissive woman. But what did that even matter since, after all, her only function was to be used for the pleasure of others?

For a moment, Ruth feared that Peter's semen might be leaking from her bottom. Except that she was a dirty whore, a trollop. And besides, Mickey had no qualms as he reamed her without mercy until his own orgasm erupted inside her once chaste cunt. Ruth could still take satisfaction from being the one to pleasure Mickey, accepting of her place as a dirty slut as Mickey enjoyed flooding her married cunt with his thick semen.

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As suddenly as their assault had begun, Ruth was left alone on the mattresses in the middle of that large room. Bewildered, disoriented, she realised that it was over. She felt relief that finally the men had satisfied themselves and left her. To have been used and abused in that way was...what? Awful? Calamitous? Or wonderful and fantastic? Her dream had come true.

She was lying on a mattress in some strange building, sore and panting with exertion as sweat and semen dried on her face and between her legs. The strangers had released her, letting slump forward onto the makeshift bed where finally she could rest. The hard leather belt remained around her neck as she heaved and panted. It was a crude trophy of the degeneracy she'd shared with them. Not that she needed to be reminded at that point - the aching in her now raw orifices was enough for that. Ruth even wondered if she might have permanent physical traces of her foul sinning.

What was certain was that her past self was obliterated. She had had such perverted and wicked dreams of the most incredible sinning and adultery. Now all of that had become real. She wanted to express her wonder and thanks for the most amazing, life-changing experience. She felt the need to express out loud how she feared she'd been changed irrevocably.

But only Peter remained with her. Of course, his normal silence filled the space around her. Ruth had a desperate need to talk, to debrief. But her new, young Master was not the person for that. Perhaps Doctor Robyn was the only person who could help her to navigate the torrent of thoughts and emotions. After all, everything that had brought the once conservative older woman to this night had been part of the good Doctor's bizarre therapy.

Eventually, Peter lifted Ruth to her feet. He wrapped her coat around her against the night air. She felt the way it stuck to her body, dirtied with sweat and semen. But she was almost in shock at what she'd experienced and was simply grateful for being covered against the night air. Her ruined clothes were left in a pile on the floor, discarded just as she had shed her old self. She did not resist as slowly Peter guided her through the cool night and to the back of his car. The leather belt was still wrapped around her neck.

"Robyn will talk to you tomorrow," Peter said as they pulled up outside her house. "And I will see you soon."

"Yes, Master," was all Ruth could manage as, in a daze she struggled inside her house.

Terrified of her secret being discovered, Ruth had to hope that her husband was ensconced in his study. Calling out to her husband, about being tired after a boring event, she was able to slip into the bathroom to clean away as much evidence as possible of her sinful, debauched evening. Ruth could only hope that he would fail to notice the marks around her neck. And her ankles. It would be easier for her to defer any sexual requests from him since, after all, he was a man with relatively few cravings. Not that she wanted to deny him -- but she was a confirmed adulterer and desperate to keep that secret from him.

She slept poorly that night. Her thoughts were filled with young Peter. Though it was as much the aching in her body that kept her awake. And, too, there were her thoughts about being such a disgusting, lowly slut. What did it all mean? Finally, she resolved to leave her questions for Doctor Robyn the next day.