The Trials of Francesca - Pt. 03

The car windows steam up from the inside, while Francesca sits on the backseat between two men she doesn't know and to whom Master has given her for the night.

She's half naked by this stage: her breasts and pussy completely exposed, legs wide open. Every hole in her body has been penetrated by their fingers: they've pushed them in her mouth, in her cunt, in her anus. They've pushed and thrust and tried to stretch her to take more, to take in their entire hands, but Francesca's body is petite and tight and won't yield so easily. Frustrated, the men finger her furiously, leaving her weak with desire and on the brink of climax which they never let her grasp.

The inside of the limousine smells of the men's aftershave, whiskey, and now, sex.

The man to her right, the tall one with salt-and-pepper hair who struck her as being quite a gentleman -- until he started to dominate her, roughly, like an animal -- says to his accomplice: 'I think she needs to suck your cock now. Or maybe mine, first. What do you think?'

His accomplice laughs and says, 'I don't care where she starts as long as she's got a mouth full of cock for the next half an hour.'

The first man grabs Francesca by her hair and spins her around to face him. 'Listen to me,' he says, not even a trace of the earlier gentlemanly tone left in his voice. 'Now, you're going to suck cock. Do you understand? I want my cock in your throat, all the way, until you gag. That's your next job. I've had enough of your cunt. For now -- I'll get back to it later.'

Francesca swallows hard and, in the semi darkness of the car's interior, she feels like the man can see her blush. How can she be so shy and so uninhibited at the same time? She knows the answer: her mind always resists her submission. But her body loves it, adores it. Her body betrays her every time.

The leather seat underneath her naked bottom is slick with the juices that have dripped out of her wet pussy. Everything feels slippery and smells of sex, but no one's even fucked her yet. Francesca wonders when the moment will come, but before she has time to think about this any more, the man pulls her down by her hair, towards his crotch. With his other hand he opens his zip and pulls out his cock. Even in the dim light Francesca can see that it's shiny and red, hard and poised like an arrow. Her mouth waters at the sight of it.

'Open your mouth,' the man commands, and pulls her down on it. The cock fills her mouth until it's blocking her throat and she can't breathe. She gags immediately, coughs but the only sound that comes out is a strange, half-choked splutter.

'Careful -- watch those teeth,' the man warns, before plunging her down again. Her scalp hurts where he's holding her hair in a tight grasp. He's rough and pulls her up and down on his cock without any regard. She struggles to breathe, tears start to flow down her cheeks, saliva dribbles out of her mouth full of his penis. She tries to say something, to ask him to slow down, but she can't, and a part of her doesn't want to -- the biggest part of her, in fact. She's struggling but she is so aroused that she can't think about anything except the taste of his cock in her mouth and how good it feels to be manhandled, the one thing she loves more than anything, the one thing she just can't resist.

'Grab her hands,' her tormenter says to his accomplice. Hearing this, the other man gropes in the dark until he finds her hands and then he yanks them backwards, until he's got her in a hold, almost like she's handcuffed. Francesca has no way of supporting herself now. Bent forward at the waist, her mouth impaled on the older man's cock, hands firmly held behind her back by the other man, she's completely helpless. She needs air and to sit up and have a drink and maybe a cigarette, to have a break and speak to the men and ask them what else will happen tonight. But she can't do anything but bob up and down on the man's cock, while tears stream down her face and her pussy aches with longing to be penetrated and made to cum.

She doesn't even notice when the man nears his climax, but at one point she just realises that her mouth is full of his cum. It's hot and tastes vaguely sweet. She struggles but swallows it, happy that she's managed to please him after all. Almost instantly the other man grabs her hair and rotates her towards himself.

'You're not done yet,' he growls. 'In fact, we're just getting going with you.' With this, he pulls her hard onto his own cock which is smaller than the other man's, but thicker, and with a beautiful shiny head that barely fits inside her mouth. Her jaw is sore and she thinks she'll scratch the man with her teeth. What will happen to her if she accidentally hurts him? She opens her mouth as wide as she can, eyes closed, and sucks on his cock in regular up-and-down movements, her chin and the top of her chest soaked in her own saliva.

Before long, the other man shoots his load into her throat, making her gag, bringing a fresh burst of tears to her eyes.

When he pulls her off his cock at last, he looks straight at her face. She knows she must look a mess. Her hair has been matted by their greedy hands and her face must be streaked with mascara which has run down her cheeks. But his eyes still express lust. He's looking at her like she's a piece of meat, something edible, something he's only just started to enjoy.

Without warning, he gives her a sharp slap across the face.

Francesca yelps. This is so unexpected. How did she deserve this? Her body, her greatest enemy, responds with a shudder of pleasure.

The man smiles, a crooked, slightly sinister smile which reveals a golden crown in one his teeth, giving him the look of some East End criminal. 'You like that?' he says, then hits her again. 'Just as well, because I like it too.'

The other man grabs her hips from behind and lifts her off the car seat. 'You've been a good girl', he says in her ear, thrusting his hand as far it'll go between her pussy lips which open just enough for some of his fingers, but not for the whole hand, however hard he pushes.

'Damn it, she's tight,' the man says and swears under his breath. Francesca is on her knees, her face held firm between the hands of the man with the gravelly voice, while her behind and her pussy are exposed to his mate who's grinding his fingers inside her once again. She can't wait any more. She just can't. Whatever they do to her, however they punish her, nothing can hold back the explosion now unstoppably building up inside her.

With one man pressing hard on both sides of her face to stop her from moving, and the other man fucking her with his fingers, she finally gets the release she's been desperate for since she got inside the car. She lets out a small cry, like a wounded animal, but it's not a cry of pain. It's a cry of pent-up pleasure that's finally been allowed to explode.

When she's calmed down and her heartbeat has returned to normal, the men let her sit back in the seat and compose herself. She shakily rearranges her clothes and allows herself a moment of rest, closing her eyes and blocking out everything except the sensations still pulsing through her trembling body.

The men watch her silently. They allow her a minute, then two, without any words, without asking anything of her. After a while, it starts to feel odd. Dangerous, even.

Francesca opens her eyes.

Why is everything so quiet? Why are they just sitting in the dim light, staring at her, without a word? Did she do something wrong? Has something else happened, something she's not been aware of?

Worse even, is something else about to happen?

As if he can hear her thoughts, the man to her rights laughs briefly and then puts his hand on her hair, giving her an almost fatherly stroke, gentle and protective.

'And now, my dear,' he says with a smile, 'now you're going to fuck the driver.'