The Doctor's Casebook Pt. 07 Ch. 03

For the next minute, I couldn't figure out what had happened... so many frantic thoughts were flooding my head. I believe I can tell you now, with the help of afterthought. I'm pretty sure that it went something like this: using one meaty palm on the top of my butt, he began sliding me toward him, but at the same time, he reached between us with his other hand, and he bent his prick downward. I didn't notice that because I was leaning forward to kiss him. It just seemed natural at that point to do so. First, I sat down on the guy's lap, the guy pulled me forward, and I kissed him. ABC. Just like that. But THIS time... oh, this time, there was something big pushing into my pussy!

I was already kissing him, but I pulled back abruptly and hissed; "Wait!" Something shifted behind me. I know what it was now, but I couldn't seem to process it then. Now that the tip was inside me, he had moved one hand slightly to the side so that both palms were now filled with my buttocks. And he pulled me forward... slowly, slowly forward. "Wait!" I gasped again. "Wait! You're... you're going inside me! Wait!"

"Shhh," he whispered in my ear.

"But... but... you're going inside me! Wait!" I whispered urgently. And he pulled us slowly together. Slowly, slowly, slowly, more and more. "Please! Wait! You're inside me! OH! Wait! Oh, gosh! You're... you're inside me! Your cock is inside me!" I tried to push back away from him, but his strength wouldn't allow it. Instead, I felt his pubic hair tickling my lower belly.

"Shhh," he said again softly in my left ear. "If you get up, people will know that there's something wrong."

"But... you're inside me!" I answered, whispering it in his ear. "Let me up, please!"

"I don't know how it happened," he said calmly. "Now that it's in there, it would be best to pretend that there's nothing wrong. You can get up when the music starts. I think it must have slipped in because you're so wet and slippery down there. Are you always like that?"

"Oh, God! I... I'm sorry! I didn't know! But... can't you take it out now?"

"No, I don't think we should. If we did, and people asked me why, we might have to tell them that it's because you get so wet."

"B... B... But...."

"Shhh. Just relax and kiss me, and no one will know."

And so, I kissed him. And I was thinking: He's inside me! I can't believe he's all the way inside me! And he went in so easily! Was it really my fault? Is another man fucking me because it's my fault? I wanted this, right? I wanted it for Terry! And, holy cow, he's big. I'm so full of him! I wish I could move. What would it feel like if I moved on him? But... I'd better not.

The music was playing again. He finally let go of my buttocks, and he grasped my waist and pushed me back. "OOOhhhh!" I moaned loudly as the bulk of his cock slid out, twitching upward as it cleared my fleshy channel and swiped savagely against my clit. People turned to look at me, and a couple of the girls giggled.

I was walking again, around in that damned circle. When would this end? A sudden thought burst into my head, and I slowed down, causing the girl behind me to bump into my naked backside. I'd timed it perfectly. The music stopped, I shoved the gal in front of me, and I dove atop Terry's lap, sitting on him hard enough to elicit a surprised cry from him.

"No fair!" the girl cried. "She pushed me!"

"Now, now," the Prophet admonished. "It doesn't matter, anyway. None of you has anything left to lose."

"But it was MY turn with the new guy!" she groused.

"It's okay. Find a lap and sit down," the Prophet admonished.

I scooted as far into Terry's body as I could, issuing a deep gasp as the side his rigid cock split the lips of my pussy, though it was pointed upward, between us.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Terry, I have to tell you something!" He just stared at me, so I said it all in a rush. "I sat in a man's lap, and somehow, his cock went into my pussy! And it might have been because I was so wet! But he was really big! And I didn't DO anything about it! And now, I'm ashamed! And... oh, Terry, what should I do?"

"Did he hurt you?" he asked.

I looked at him questioningly. "Uh... no?"

Terry looked at the couple to his left, so I turned to my right and looked, too. The brunette that I had shoved out of the way was sitting, impaled on the man's cock, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her hair flailing, and she was bouncing up and down in wild abandon. Together, we turned and looked at the couple on the other side of us. This redhead wasn't bouncing... she was sliding, forward and back. Every time she pushed forward, she would rotate her hips, grinding herself almost savagely against her partner while she kissed him deeply.

I turned forward again. "Is this what you want, Terry?"

"Um... Is it what YOU want?"

But I saw it in his eyes. The excitement. The longing. I leaned into him, threw my arms around his neck, and I kissed him harder than I'd ever kissed him before. The music started. "I love you, Mr. Randolph," I said with all of my heart.

"I love you, Mrs. Randolph," he countered.

And I rose and started walking again. I reached forward and touched the brunette's back. "I'm sorry I pushed you," I said above the music.

She waved and looked at me over her shoulder. "That's okay. Did you get it out of your system?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it," I answered, giggling. I didn't comment on the trail of white cum dripping down her inner thighs.

When the music stopped, I didn't hurry at all. It really didn't matter, anyway. Everybody was naked. I looked the man up and down with unabashed curiosity, and it was HIS turn to blush. I'd sat on his lap already, of course. I'd sat on EVERYBODY'S lap already, despite the Prophet's obvious best efforts to keep spouses apart. He was shorter than Terry, and sort of mousy, but his erect cock was hard and thick. I slowly crawled onto his knees and shimmied forward, and he obliged by pulling me toward him. Just at the right moment, I lowered my hand, grasped his prick, and bent it down toward me. It entered me effortlessly, and I didn't try to suppress my gasp at his size. I kissed him tenderly, then I put my lips next to his ear. "I'll do anything you want me to," I whispered.

"I want you to move on me."

I began bobbing my body up and down. "Like this?"

"Um... could you... uh..."

I stopped and began sliding forward and back, the way I'd seen the redhead next to Terry do. "Like this?"

"Oh, God. That's great." Every time I pushed forward, I swiveled my hips, grinding into him, and his pubic hair was rubbing against my clit almost savagely. I longed for his lips and I kissed him, and then I moaned into his mouth. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern tinting his question.

I moved my lips back to his ear. "You're SO big! Much larger than my husband. I'm not used to you yet." He stiffened, and his cock jerked inside me. "Oh!" I said, finally understanding what was happening. "You get turned on when I breathe into your ear!" I pressed my lips tighter into him. "Don't you?"

"Aaaghh!" he cried loudly. "I'm gonna' cum!"

"Yessss!" I hissed into his ear, then threw my head back when he grew impossibly large within me. "OOOhhh!" I screamed toward the ceiling, our sounds of rapture mingling. I didn't cum, but I think I could have if he had kept it up much longer. As it was, he was stretching me so much that I simply couldn't have kept quiet.

Up until this point, everyone had at least made a small effort to contain their sounds of passion. But after his and my unabashed display, all attempts at discretion were abandoned. We were allowed to remain with this round's partners longer than normal, which was nice. I cuddled into him while he slowly came down from his emotional high. "I can't believe you're still hard!" I told him, rising as the music began once again.

"Neither can I," he answered, holding my hand for a long second. "Thank you."

I laughed. "Thank YOU!"

The music started again. The Prophet was incredibly good at stopping the line of women in front of men they hadn't been with for a while. This man seemed nice, but less experienced than the others, and he fumbled between us for a moment after I had mounted my human saddle. "Let me," I admonished gently, moving my slender hand downward. He seemed exasperated that he had fumbled a romantic moment, so I whispered: "After you're inside me, I'll do whatever you want. I can't deny you anything once you're inside."

That seemed to satisfy him... emotionally, at least... but he wouldn't give me a chance to move. He held me still, his arms around my waist, and thrust up into me with a movement that reminded me of two dogs I had once seen in the mating act. His cock was larger than Terry's, but nowhere near as big as the last man. With my arms around his neck, I simply held on as he rutted for the entire time. Neither one of us orgasmed.

And we were off again. "This is the last round of the evening," the Prophet announced. I hope you had a good time playing our game. And... I hope the rest of your evening is pleasant."

The music stopped, and I turned to face my favorite musical chair. The tender, muscular gentleman who had hosted me twice already, rose before I could sit, however, and in one effortless movement, he swept me up in his arms. I issued a squealing giggle, but silenced myself as I sensed movement. "Where are we going? Don't we have one more round?" I didn't really want to know, though, so I shut my eyes and buried my face into the side of his strong neck. But I couldn't just leave. I couldn't. "My husband is here," I told him in hushed breathlessness, almost a whisper. "I can't leave him."

"He will find you after I've had my way with you," he stated with a shrug of his brawny shoulders.

"Had your way," I sighed. I had vertigo... we seemed to be moving downward, then sideways, but I refused to open my eyes to the reality of the moment... if any moment of this entire day could have been called real. Finally, however, I found that we were no longer upright; we were lying in bed together. Ah. This was one of the beds on the periphery of the large theater room. And, of course, there was no need to set me down and then join me, since we were both already naked. I opened my eyes and looked up into his. "I am doing this because I love my husband," I told him, "because he's excited about me being with another man."

"You mustn't lie to me," he admonished gently.

That brought tears. "But... but he IS!" I pleaded.

"Perhaps that is what brought you here this evening, but it's not why you are lying here with me now." That really brought on the guilt! I didn't resist as he rocked me gently in his arms, comforting me. "Shh!" he whispered. "He doesn't have to know that you want this."

I corralled my tears with a sniff. "No. I will not lie to him. I will never lie to him. Ever. Above all else, I will never do that. We share everything."

I saw his smile. "Alright, then. Let's give you something worthy of confessing to."

And he kissed me. And I surrendered. And I opened myself to him. And my moans filled the darkened room. "Please!" I groaned. "Please be slow! Be gentle! You are SO much larger than he is!"

He WAS gentle, but that was only the beginning. He stroked into me, slowly, over and over, as if he would go on forever. I don't know how long he had been doing that before he rolled us both so that I was atop him. I suppose it should have been the same, straddling him, the way it had been with all the others. But it was SO different this time! I let him position me, riding him, so that I could set my own pace now. His hands were everywhere on my body. Everywhere. Kneading my breasts. Pinching my nipples. Stroking my sides. Rubbing my clit. At one point, he was pressing a fingertip against my anus, though he didn't penetrate me there. Did I wish that he would? My thoughts swirled all around us, and I could feel everything... EVERYTHING... that he was doing, everywhere he was touching! He put a hand on the back of my neck and drew my lips to his. I don't know how much time had passed before he made me stop and resume my bouncing, which had been slowed by the kiss. And after he had been playing with my clit for a long while, he sat up, effortlessly, pressing his chest into mine, and he breathed into my ear: "Cum!" And I did. During my orgasm, I felt him swell and throb and erupt inside me, and my pleasure just went on and on and on. I awoke, realizing that I was no longer touching him; but when I sat up, he was sitting there, on the side of the bed. He reached out and stroked my face and hair. "Thank you," he said quietly.

I seized one of his wrists before he could get away. "Wait! Please tell me! I know it's against the rules, put please! Are you married? Which one is your wife?"

He regarded me with a weird mixture of curiosity, irritation and something else... something tender but unsettling. Finally, he reached out and stroked the side of my face as he answered. "She's the tall one. Slender. Blonde."

"Oh," I responded, shocked. "I like her. She's sweet. But... I thought she was with the Prophet dude."

He issued a small bark of a laugh. "Prophet dude. Yes. She's his helper. She helps him a lot, as a matter of fact. Since we're in a confessing mood, I'll tell you. He's her brother. She asked me if I'd help in his latest get-rich-quick scheme, and since she and I had already tried swapping once or twice, I agreed to participate in a couple of their little parties. But, after THIS..." He stroked my face again. "... after this, never again. I will never allow myself to feel this way again, with anyone other than my wife. I've found my limit in life, and I'll never cross that line again. Ever."

Tears sprang into my eyes. "I've hurt you."

"Yes. You've taught me a tremendous lesson." He leaned forward and kissed me lightly, tenderly, sweetly. It took my breath away, but I was afraid to react outwardly in any way. "Thank you," he whispered again.

And he was gone.

I scampered out of bed, and I took a few steps after him for some reason, before reality finally began to invade my consciousness. I was a dripping mess, and I found a box of tissues on a small table next to the bed with an empty waste basket beside it. I used some and cleaned myself a bit. My pussy lips were tender; but overall, I felt alive and wonderful.

Looking around, I realized that some of the floor lamps had been turned off, making the huge space seem even darker than before. The lights had been dimmed up on the stage, as well, though the chairs were still up there, as was the small table with the now-silent sound machine. Simultaneously, moans erupted from different sides of the chamber, although I couldn't pinpoint exactly where. Squinting into the gloom, I saw bodies writhing on a bed across the way... and over next to me, also. After further observation, I found that most of the beds seemed to be occupied; but in the darkness, I couldn't tell by whom.

I should find Terry, I resolved. Quietly, on tiptoe, like a scared little mouse, my hands covering my breasts, I crept to the bed nearest me in the direction of the stage. I stood at the foot of the squeaking piece of furniture, watching a man's ass rising and falling rhythmically over the spread-legged female form beneath him. But he groaned then. It wasn't Terry's voice; it was too deep. So, I started slowly shuffling toward the next bed along the wall. It was the last one before the stairs to the stage. The thought finally, finally struck me: what would I do when I DID find him? I couldn't interrupt him. Would I simply stand there and watch?

I issued a soft little scream when I felt a hand on my wrist. Simultaneously, an arm went around my waist, and the man twisted my body toward him. "Shhh!" he ordered, looking down into my eyes. It was the first time I had really noticed the Prophet's eyes, how deep they were, how dark they were.

"I... I... I'm looking for my husband," I said in a hushed voice, obeying him.

He pointed off toward the opposite corner of the vast room. "He's over there, but he's busy right now." I saw movement, and after a long few seconds, a figure rose upright on the bed he was pointing toward. I could just make it out. It was his tall, willowy assistant (and, I realized now, his sister), on her knees, moving her hips over a prone figure, her breasts bouncing up and down, up and down.

"You will come with me," the man said, making it both a statement of fact and an order. "The Dark Lord requires a sacrifice."

While he said this, he had let go with one hand, grasping my left hand with his right, and I just sort of naturally started to follow him. That last bit made me dig in my heels, though. "Sacrifice?"

He laughed in a rich baritone, sounding a little like the villain in a melodrama. "We will have you sacrifice your body, but not your life, you have my word." He took the opportunity to gaze into my eyes for a long moment. "Oh, my, but you're a sweet one. Such innocence! It would be SO easy to warp you to my will... to seduce your mind through the pleasures of the body... to bend you to a life of service along the one true path."

In the middle portion of the huge space there were two support columns, though they were set closer to the sides of the room than its center. I couldn't really tell if they had been added after the structure had been built, or if they were part of the overall design. If the latter was the case, however, they would interfere with the audience's viewing as part of a theater. Anyway, Mr. Prophet led me to one of these heavy posts. He issued only two initial words in his demands to me, and I'm still not sure why I never hesitated to do his bidding. "Hands up," he barked. Then he began forming a leather cuff around my left wrist and buckling some straps that were affixed to it. "It doesn't quite reach," he observed. "You're too short. Stretch up as far as you can." And then after several seconds, a little less congenially, "Stand on your tiptoes, damn it!"

I tried to look up and figure out what was going on, but things were happening slightly behind my head, and I couldn't see. When the task was complete, the tips of my toes were the only parts of my anatomy capable of maintaining contact with the floor. Smugly, he began caressing my sides, my breasts, my hips; but he always came back to my breasts, and he delighted in rubbing my nipples into hard, erect points. While doing this, he kept talking, almost matter-of-factly. I can't remember everything he said specifically, but the gist of it was that he was preparing me for a life devoted to Satan. It was sort of like a doctor performing minor surgery and talking to the patient through the whole thing, like: this is what I'm doing, and this is how it's going to affect you for the rest of your life.

I remember hearing him say: "You are really going to enjoy what I'm going to do next. You will probably cum during the incantation. The woman I did it to last time certainly did. Don't you worry, though. She's still happily married, even though she belongs to me more than she belongs to her husband now. She made an excellent slave, and I'm sure you will, too. You were so easily seduced by all of those around you... I just know that you are going to enjoy a life of sexual servitude in the name of the Dark One."

He turned around and fumbled with something... I couldn't see what it was due to the way he was standing... but eventually, he faced me again. "Stick out your tongue!" he ordered sharply. Oddly, I didn't question him.

Okay, so try to imagine this bizarre scene. I was dangling by my wrists, my arms stretched way up over my head, naked. Despite my work with the tissues earlier, a drop of cum was dribbling down my inner thigh. My body tended to twist, like a wind chime suspended by a single string in a slight breeze. And my tongue was sticking out as far as I could get it. He, standing a full head taller than me, kept me facing him by putting a steadying hand on my right hip. And, slowly, purposefully, he put the tip of his right index finger in the center of my tongue and scraped it forward, back toward him, all the way to the tip. The taste was horrid! Sour and bitter and sort of metallic, but tainted with something super-sweet, like saccharin.