Stealing Cassie Pt. 03: New Friends

But his hands on my hips were enough to reassure me, kept me upright even as my orgasm threw me beyond myself. Standing there between them both, the tropical storm of orgasm swept over me, and when it had passed, only then did they allow me to sink to my knees.

I wanted to go and lie on the sofa, but Erika held me in place as I knelt, told me to "Stay!". I remained on my haunches, my arms up, hands still behind my head. I looked up at the screen to see Daddy and his guests sitting watching calmly. All sipped glasses of wine.

Then Adam came and stood in front of me and undid his pants, lowered them to his knees. I looked at his cock and thought, Oh God! They really do exist, those monster cocks you only hear about in stories. I'd always thought men were pretty much the same, give or take an inch, but now I stared in wonder at this thing, hardly believing it real, wondering if it were prosthetic. But when I looked again I saw how very real it was; raw and meaty, blood-engorged. It jutted at ninety degrees from his hips, swaying gently from its bulk.

A thrill of expectancy churned in my belly. From the screen on the wall, I heard Daddy say, "Suck it, Slave."

I did not need instructing. Even if he had not ordered me to, I don't think I would have been able to help myself, would have just had to taste it. It was such a wonderful thing to see, and I did so want to touch it, take in my hands. But I knew if I moved my hands from my head there would be trouble, so I pushed out my tongue and gently licked; just the tip to start with, then I let my tongue glide from head to base, then base to head, over and over.

While I licked Adam's cock, Erika undressed quickly. Naked, she came and knelt behind me, roughly collected my hair into a ponytail, holding it tight near the scalp, her large breasts soft against my back.

She began to tell me, "I knew your mouth was special, mmm, just look at you, the way you go at him. Is he enough for you, heh? You are such a sexy little slut. Oh, just look at you! How you go at him."

She yanked my hair hard and pushed my mouth onto him further, so his cock gatecrashed my lips, going deep into my throat. I spluttered and gagged. I had to become still for a moment with his cock filling my mouth. Not one flinch, then I quickly regained my composure, found a rhythm, licked and licked, nibbled too.

It was so difficult for me to give it all the attention I usually lavish on a guy when I do a blowjob. My hands still raised, I was unable to stroke his balls, or hold and adjust him while my mouth worked.

His fingers in my hair, gripping joining with hers. His letting me know when I did what he liked, hers twisting strands out of spite as if she hated that I had her husband's cock between my lips.

With every twist and curl of my tongue, I sensed the pressure building within him approaching its conclusion. I knew there would be magma ejected; there was a sense of something distant becoming close. Then his moans. The eruption.

An explosion on my tongue, salty-sweet. The pulse and throb of his cock as it discharged into me. His groans like livestock. Me gagging from the deluge of his semen. I was determined not to spit, was unwilling to relinquish any of the precious fluid, but unable to swallow fast enough, and it trickled from my mouth. Then Erika on her knees licking my lips, trying to steal what he had given me. I refused to share.

I sucked and sucked until there was no more to be had. Finally, after I had swallowed all he gave, I spat out his flaccid meat, limp and done with. But he continued to wipe his softening cock across my cheeks, slapped it aginst me over and over, and still it seeped. Erika began licking my cheeks, my chin, and my nose.

I became as clean as licked kitten. Done with me, Adam stood up and went to the bathroom.

She and I together on the carpet, kissing with tongues, each wrestling for the upper hand, back and forth. But her desire for me was more than I could defend against and her tongue broke through my lips, went deep. I wanted to swallow, take it into me. And she held me tight in her arms and was smooth and fragrant, my head spinning from her womanliness, the sliding soft, silkiness of all her softness. I became amazed that a woman so beautiful could desire me so completely.

Adam returned with collar and leash, quickly fixed around my neck while she continued to kiss me. He yanked me from her, and I became a dog on all fours, my master on screen calling my name. Sit, Slave. Beg, Slave.

I did those things over and over.

"Walkies, Slave."

They led me to the bed, fastened head to the headboard post, then they brusquely splayed my limbs, making stranded starfish of me. Erika fetched ropes from a suitcase, and they attached the ends to my wrists and ankles and stretched me until my burning muscles made me call for them to stop, beg them to please to go easy on me. They pulled so hard. I became a witch on the rack. I had nothing to confess; their work would be long and tortuous. Who could I implicate? No one: they will surely split me into four parts.

She stood at the foot of the bed opening a sealed package. I tried to look, to see what she had. Out it comes and there it is: a dildo and all its straps. He helps her, positions it, pulls the straps until it is snug.

"Has a woman ever fucked you?" Erika asks.

I shake my head and look up at the wall-mounted screen where Daddy watches with the others, their wide eyes burning with salacious fascination.

Erika and Adam take so long to get the dildo set on her hips. Adam adjusting her straps and buckles, while on the bed, the ropes continue tearing at my flesh, terrified I might come apart under such strain. My cunt oozes my need. I think of the duvet and how I will stain it.

The strap-on fixed to her voluptuous hips, the leather around her abdomen is broad and shiny, while thin straps cut deep into the crevice of her arse. The phallus itself is not as grand as Adam's real-deal, though adequate. But here is one thing assured, there will be no deflation of this erotic artefact.

She has lube, but I am sodden already. She kneels on the bed, and the mattress sinks a little. She discards the lube when she sees how wet I am.

On knees now, positioning herself between my legs, Before starting, she takes up a stance looking down at me, says. "Your Daddy told me that you once said it's the gorgeous ones require punishment. Well, Daddy's little Slave, this is for being simply much too gorgeous for your own good."

She rubs the head of the dildo over my cunt, and Immediately I sense the squelch and understand how wet I am, how thoroughly I have prepared a welcome for her. I am embarrassed that my body should betray its need so blatantly.

When she eases the thing into me, I grunt from the abruptness of it. My head reels under the sensation of its girth and actuality; unbelieving how much it opens me, the discomfort of it. Then comes the joy of it tunnelling into me as she pushes her hips hard. It fills me completely.

Just a beginning. I look up and see how she concentrates, how she struggles to master the unfamiliar appendage. Little by little her movements became assured, her thrustings confident. She settles into a fierce rhythm, and her lunges become hard and regular. Now she has it mastered she turns her full attention to me. She looks down at me, her eyes studying my face, noting my reactions to her every thrust. She is learning from me, discovering when I am pleased.

And when her lunges intensify, and I grimace from the enormity of what breaches me, she smiles and says, "Is it too large for you, sweetheart? Tell me if I'm hurting you."

And it did, and I said, "Oh-oh, it does hurt, please, slower please."

I thought that my words would elicit consideration, but my whimpers only increased the intensity of her thrusts, quickened her pace. She delighted in using me this way, and her eyes burned like wildfire, and I saw amidst their beauty a need to hurt that was deeper, unappeased by rationality. My pitiful words would make no impression now, my calls for her to show some pity only fed her ferocity and she fucked me harder still. And as she loomed over me, and I stared up into the terrifying reality of her eyes, I thought her more beautiful than any woman I had ever seen.

And then Adam was with us, sitting on the side of the bed, reaching out to finger my clit, rotate it round and round as Erika increased her pace. I needed to move, adjust myself, but the binding had me splayed, and I could only raise my hips to alleviate the pounding. But all that this achieved was to draw her into me further so that I called out from the brew of pleasure and pain in which they poached me. God the bitch! How she used me for her selfish perversity.

"Oh-god, oh-god, oh-god." And then I am thrashing in the throes of an orgasm, and she laughs out loud before withdrawing from me, her body collapsing into me, her lips on mine, gagging my awful moans.

Erika and Adam; he to my right, she the left, taking turns to kiss me, then she leaning past me to kiss him.

"Such a beautiful slave," Adam says and kisses me with passion. And Just for that for a moment I think he might love me.

But she is greedy for me, takes me from him, turns my head and interrupting our kiss. Then before kissing me again, she says, "Josh has an eye for girls like you; beautiful, compliant girls. Biddable girls, gorgeous girls. Josh never disappoints."

And her words inflame me in a way I find it hard to describe. To be discussed in such a way, to be told I am just a plaything, valued only as an object of pleasure, that Josh had arranged for them to use me like this, suffuses me with a sweet satisfaction. The events of the night have purged me, swept my mind clear of my sense of being a girl named Cassie. I became a no-person, free at last of my pathetic history, the burden of all I imagined I was.

Deep inside, a new Cassie is being moulded, fashioned by the lust of others.