Whatever It Takes Pt. 06 - Wednesday

He laughed and pulled back to inspect the results. "Elaine, you are now wearing what is known on the Internet as a 'facial.'" Then turning to the other three, he said, "

Gentlemen, take her and have fun. Time limit is one hour. Just do not bruise the merchandise. We have to sell our new house pet here to the tourists."

As he pulled up his pants in preparation for his exit, the others grabbed me and tossed me, cum-face and all, on to the bed. I lay back on the bed, lifted my legs up, and held them up with my hands behind my knees, opening myself wide in an acknowledgement of the inevitable. This gave them quick and easy access so to keep things moving along. Once again that Elaine, the sporting girl, getting with the program and efficiently moving her clients along.

It surprised me that I had not been more self conscious while being watched by these men had while Patrick dunked his dick in me. Never before had anyone watched while I did it (except for those on hotel balconies when Paul and I got carried away on Saturday). But this was up close and personal -- to see, smell, and hear the bodies coming together and be aroused by it. I had begun to regard my bodies and its users with contempt. In order to preserve some remnant of pride, of sanity, I attempted to sever my body from my mind and soul. If I despised my body sufficiently then I would not care so much who did what to it. I knew how important it was to cease to care -- at least in the immediate short run the severance was absolutely necessary to survival. Over the long term, I would work with the shrinks and the priests to straighten it all out.

I looked down between my breasts as the first one mounted the bed. A short black man grabbed my legs and pulled me down towards the bottom of the bed. He looked over weight and flabby. His face was pock-marked and his teeth yellow and decaying. That this hideous man wanted to -- no, not just wanted to, but would -- penetrate my body made me want to scream -- but why bother as there was no one that would listen or care.

He stared between my legs at my vaginal mound and the blonde stubble landing strip pointing to my crotch. A deep guttural sound of anticipation and pleasure came almost involuntarily from his throat. I felt as though I would scream in revulsion if this pig touched me, but I knew it was coming and had to repress my feelings. Things had gone too far now. I was committed to seeing this whole nightmare through no matter what degradation I had to experience.

The next move was oddly unexpected. He moved so swiftly that I was caught unprepared. Had I intended to resist, my defenses would have been overwhelmed. It was his quickness and brawn that were unexpected. For all his apparent flab, he was powerful. His hands knifed in between my thighs, and he tore my legs wide apart, making me cry out in pain and surprise.

The he pulled me forward until my buttocks covered his knees. He knelt between my legs. His hardened penis stood out from his body aimed right at my crotch. It looked to me like a giant oak growing up through the black underbrush of his thick pubic hair. With one hand he stroked the foreskin back and forth over the expanding head. It seemed to grow in size each time he stroked it. He sensed my fear and was excited by it.

My pink vulva was wide open to him. Before I could think or react, his penis was in the groove, the tip parting my labia. He guided himself with his hand, sliding the tip up and down along my slit, pressing on my clit.

The muscles in my legs twitched as he spread them further -- and still further. He raised my pelvis an inch, seeking the angle he wanted. Finally, the opening to my cunt, slick with KY, sweat, and Patrick's bodily fluids, enfolded the knob of his organ.

I moaned as he pushed forward, my fists grasping the sheet and twisting it. He grunted and lunged forward while simultaneously pulling me onto his prick. The effect was to bury it into me all the way to his root on this one thrust. Again I was violated, entered, and helpless. He looked into my eyes and smiled as he held me in place and thrust in and out. The smell of garlic and aged sweat flowed over me like an odorous veil from which there was no relief. I tried to stare at the ceiling, but. like a fly caught in a web, my eyes would drift back to my tormentor. His leering face drew my attention; his mocking eyes laughing at my glazed look of defeat and helpless acceptance of his penetration of my body.

Until he spoke, I did not realize that Patrick had not left the room. "Elaine," he called in a voice loud enough to be heard over the grunts of the black that was balling me. "Elaine, when you are finished, check out these marketing materials. We have made you a star for a week." As I looked over at him, he dropped what appeared to be cards, like large business cards, on the night table and walked out.

The words came out instinctively but with visceral feeling, "Patrick, if you touch me again, I'll kill you. If not that day, then someday. You are a fucking bastard. I am going to get you. I will castrate you, kill you. If it takes me my entire life -- I will get you!" He hesitated with his hand on the door knob while the man between my legs stopped what he was doing, half in and half out of me.

Patrick turned with a smile frozen on his face. He was beyond anger that one of his pets had talked back to him. I understood that I had gone too far. A challenge to Patrick, even a conversation with him, was like sharing a high wire with a lunatic; the slightest misstep would be fatal.

Patrick walked slowly back and stood beside the bed. The silence was deafening. He leaned over, looked right into my eyes, and said in an emotionless voice, "Why would a slut care if a man touched her?" His voice rose in pitch. He began to shout. "Look at you, Bitch. Naked, in bed, having sex with a stranger. Enjoying it I am sure. Who and what do you think you are? Do you believe that you are better than we are? Just because you are white and an American. You are a fuckin' whore. Keep your mouth shut and do your job -- and you might just might make it back to your husband and baby in New York telling all your cute little vacation stories to other cunts and their husbands over cocktails on the upper East side. And remember, you already 'got' me, honey. You got all of me, all eight inches of me. That is all you will ever get!"

I actually saw spittle at the corners of his mouth. He scared me. I meant what I said about killing him but was in no position to push it further. A face-saving "fuck you" was all I could say.

He knew he had won the exchange. He leaned over further and kissed my forehead. His parting words were "have a good day" and "enjoy your work." He laughed coldly as he shut the door behind him, leaving me with the three men.

The one already in me resumed reaming into me, grunting with each thrust. The combination of the vitamin E lotion and KY let him slide in and out of me with no resistance. The only resistance was in mind and that was very fragile indeed. I knew and the three men suspected, that I would do whatever they wanted as long as they wanted up to the one hour limit.

He must have thrust steadily for the better part of eight to ten minutes with that same smile on his face. He started to ram into me, a slow thrusting that made my body shake each time he lunged forward. He kept his eyes on the joining of our bodies, on my blonde pubic hairs and pink cunt lips surrounding his thrusting black penis.

The violation, the possession, of my body was complete. I could feel his hairy scrotum slapping against my buttocks each time he thrust forward to bury his organ in my cunt. The most degrading thing was to be taken by this stranger while two other men watched. It was I belonged to these men; I was rented to them for an hour to use any way they wanted. Then he put my legs of his shoulders, and now the penetration seemed even deeper than before. I heard him grunting as he worked his loins between my thighs.

I closed my eyes and prayed for the ordeal to end. I lay there with my face turned to the side, moaning on occasion when he would manhandle my breasts as he moved in and out of me. The room smelled of bodily fluids. Suddenly, I sensed the bed sag from a new weight near my head. Fingers touched and pulled at my lips, pressuring them open. I felt a hardness prodding my half open mouth. I opened my eyes and shuddered in horror at the sight of a pulsating penis that was stabbing at my mouth. The youngest one had gotten out of line and was now kneeling on the bed with his dick aimed at my mouth.

"Open those lovely pink lips for me, Bitch! Get a taste of some nigger cock, Baby!" He taunted me, the new recruit to an ancient profession, laughing at my plight. Then to humiliate me, he rubbed his smelly sweat-slick cock all over my face. "Open your eyes,

Bitch! Take a look at some black cock! Open your eyes now!"

When I did not open my eyes or my mouth, he reached over and pinched my nostrils shut. In 45 seconds I began to run out of air. When my mouth popped open, he grabbed me around the neck with one calloused hand and squeezed briefly. I got the message and opened my mouth to receive him and my eyes to stare at the object of my defilement. He did not jam it all the way in but chose to leave only about three inches in my mouth. He began a slow sawing motion, moving his long hard penis down the entire length of my tongue and then pulling it slowly part-way out, the fleshy intrusion causing my cheeks to bulge out when he pushed in. His cock was sliding in and out around the "O" formed by my mouth.

A rhythm built between the two men that were abusing me, the two seemingly moving in unison. The young one's rod never quite pulled out, but he always left a inch or two in mouth. He cupped my face with his hands, holding me in place. My field of vision was his brown public hair and the black sacs below his thrusting penis.

I had no choice but to try to end it quickly, to cooperate in my own rape. Consequently, I worked at the head of his penis with my tongue trying to get him off and avoid another vaginal rape. I tried to suck as much of his prick in to my mouth as possible. I had over half his organ in my mouth. With my left hand, I reached over and began to fondle his heavy balls as my lips sucked his cock down my throat.

This was the first time in my life I ever had two men take me simultaneously, other than when Michael and Patrick drugged me on Monday, so long ago it could have been ten years ago. There was nothing erotic about this. All I wanted to do was get it over with and full cooperation on my part seemed like the fastest way to end it. I forced down my gag reflex when the knobby, rubbery head eased into my gullet. To breathe, I backed off a little and inhaled through my nose as the man's organ plowed into my mouth. My throat ached. There was no pleasure for me, only pain.

Consequently, I began to move my hips and to suck harder. I screwed my cunt up and down the prick with wild vengeful strokes; anything to end this double ravishment. The man between my legs braced himself on his knees above my now wildly thrashing body, letting my clasping cunt slither up and down the rigid length of his cock at will. He bucked forward on my up stroke several times, driving the head of his cock almost through my womb. His thrusts driving my ass deep into the squeaking mattress.

"OOOOHHHHHH! OOOOOOHHHHHH," I could hear myself moan, the sound distorted by the prick in my mouth. Suddenly, the one between my legs pulled his prick out of me and began to pound it lightly on my stomach. Then he began to spurt cum all over my stomach and breasts.

I felt but did not see this because my view was restricted to the other man's public hair and the couple of inches of black prick that was not yet in my mouth. A thought crossed my mind that back in NY my peers were drinking lattes and debating the technical points of million dollar deals while I was in Jamaica fucking two black gardeners simultaneously.

The other man replaced him between my legs. This one apparently also knelt between my legs. I felt him put one of my legs on each side of his head and began to pound into me. He had a new trick, one that I had never experienced. "Aaaaaaggggg, Aaaaaaaagggg," I screamed as this one reached underneath my buttocks and pushed his middle finger against my puckered tightanus. It must have been moist from KY and the leaked sperm from the first mad because he soon had his finger up to the second knuckle in my back passage. With his cock in one hole and his finger in another, I imagined the two rubbing against each other inside me. Then he put a second punishing finger in, sinking them both to the palm of his hand. He dug them cruelly into my anal channel. I jerked my buttocks up to escape the intrusion in my backside. As I did so, he rammed his pelvis forward and drove his cock even deeper into my cunt. As I bucked down to keep the rock hard dick from ripping straight through me, I skewered myself down hard on the up-probing fingers. I was hopelessly impaled between his fingers and his cock. I groaned helplessly as he ground them both deep inside me. As he moved his fingers deep in my bowels, I arched up only to meet his cock coming down. I gradually became accustomed to the dual ravishment of my genitals; the pain gradually subsided into a dull ache.

In the meantime, I was still salivating all over the cock in my throat. Wiry hair tickled my nose, brought on a desire to sneeze. I fought the urge down, knowing that, if I did sneeze, I would, unavoidably, bite down hard on the dick between my lips causing undesirable consequences for my own well being. His entire cock was in my mouth. I thought I could make him cum in my mouth which seemed preferable to vaginal penetration. I bobbed my head as best I could up and down his prick. My jaws began to ache. Once in a while my teeth nicked his sensitive flesh, and he hissed at me in protest. His hands touched my head, slowing me down. Apparently he did not want to come just yet. I didn't care if I swallowed or not. All I wanted was an end to the triple fucking of my body -- dicks in my cunt and mouth and fingers in my ass hole. I began to pray for him to come in my mouth as it was growing harder and harder for me to breathe. I though I might pass out. The pain in my jaws began to move into the zone that I thought I could no longer bear. I wanted him to come and end the oral rape. But it was not to be.

Finally, I heard the man between my legs groan and felt him flood me with cum. I could feel it spewing wildly out of him into the depths of my womb, filling me completely, overflowing down my legs. I felt his juices trickle down the inside of my thighs on to his own hand whose fingers remained in my ass. He gave one last low gasp and emptied the last of his sperm into my spent body. His deflated cock slipped with a sucking noise out of the liquid-filled furrow between my open legs. At the same time he withdrew his fingers. I heard it and felt it as I could still see no further than the crotch of the man upon whom I was committing what sex books for the middle class call 'fellatio' and what men with high school educations call 'a blow job.'.

When he pulled out and left the bed, the one with his prick in my mouth withdrew it and walked down to the foot of the bed so he could have his turn. The third one lay on top of me and entered me easily what with my spit on his dick, the KY Jelly, and the sperm of the men who proceeded him. His prick just slid in until our public hair commingled.

The others had ignored my breasts, but this one clamped his mouth over the nipple and aureole on my right breast. He smiled and kept on sucking when my milk began to flow. I could see that his upper lip was covered with milk, like one on those print ads for milk back in the States. He kept pumping his hips like an animal. Elaine the willing slut thrust back trying to end it the only way she knew -- with a satisfied male flooding her sex with cum.

My mind couldn't accept that this was happening to me. I was a conservative, career business woman, quiet and reserved. And yet, here she was, first thing in the day at a whore house, flat on my back spread-eagled, taking the fourth cock in my cut in only about 40 - 50 minutes. And worse from my point of view, I was thinking of ways to speed up their climaxes. I was humiliated at what I was being forced to do, afraid of what would happen to me whether I did, or did not, cooperate in my own rapes.

Given I had him in my mouth for ten minutes or so, the fact he cold still take five minutes of deep thrusts before cumming was amazing. I felt him begin to shudder. He kept it up for a full minute until he could hold back no longer, and thick jets of cum blasted from his penis into me. When it was over, he pulled out of me, and they all left. There was a pool of cum between my legs, my pussy and asshole were covered with such heavy doses of cum that my loins looked like a creamy mess. Patrick's cum had dried on my face, and the first man's cum was still wet on my stomach and breasts plus I was covered with sweat, theirs and mine.

It was maybe eleven o'clock in the morning. I was on the bed in a whore house in Jamaica. The air was heavy with the smell of sex. I had just fucked four men -- Patrick and the three gardners, even taking two of them simultaneously. In the real world, my mother was feeding my baby or taking her to the park, my colleagues were getting ready for 'power lunches', and my husband was roaming around some chemical plant taking copious notes on God-knows-what. But I was lying in a pool of cum on a cheap bed staring at the ceiling wishing my mind to disengage and turn off so that I did not have to remember or anticipate. I had to learn to disassociate, to be two people, no not even two people, but a person and a thing. Nobody should ever be able to reach the person, no matter what abuses they visit upon my body. I had to steel myself to cope with the repulsive acts that I would have to perform for my clients. Maybe then I could live with the threat of violence without it driving me crazy.

After ten minutes of nothing, I began to move again. In the bathroom, I douched generously to get rid of the sperm of the men. I rinsed out my mouth and used mouthwash to get rid of the taste of the man's prick in my mouth. It was also a relief to sit on the toilet, spread my thighs, and loose a flood of pee into the bowl. I hadn't realized how badly I had to go. Then I showered making the island's luke warm water as hot as I could, staying in the shower using lots of soap over and over to wash off the smell of the men, their cum, and the sweat. I expressed my milk down the drain and watched flow away like my self respect.

I used the cheap perfume on the sink to cover any left over odor of sex. How should I wear my hair? What would a whore do? I decided to put it up, keep it off my face and out of my eyes -- what better way to see the prick I was to suck, I thought sardonically.

Then I noticed the cards that Patrick had left on the night stand. He had not lied; they were marketing materials -- and I was a star. They were the kind of cards that whores left in telephone booths in London and in desk lobbies in Las Vegas. "Come and fuck me" was the message.

The first card was headed "This is My Actual Photo ELAINE." There was a picture of me that was one of those taken by Michael in the limo. I was facing the camera on all fours, breasts exposed and hanging down, a serious look on my face like I meant what was scrawled beneath the photo: "I'll be your Playmate tonight." On the back was more of the same. "Cum see me. I'm a young and buxom woman. I'm recently divorced and having more fun than ever down here on the island of Jamaica. Stripping naked and showing all my secrets allows me to meet interesting men. I'd love to meet you. I you want to have fun come see me at The House of Dolls." The phone number was at the bottom -- "Call 369-5360 for hotel pick up and return."