I’m seated in a lecture hall with eighty other students, all juniors. I’m the only freshman in the class. I have no right to be here, of course. All the other students give me puzzled sidelong glances.
The boys are curiously eyeing the way I’m dressed. White long-sleeved, button-up blouse. Pretty checkered skirt. White stockings held by white garters. Black shoes. I resemble a Catholic schoolgirl. My long mahogany hair curls prettily at the edges and my wide green eyes augment the intended effect.
At the podium, Robert Whitehouse – dean of the college – is going through the anatomy of the female reproductive organ. Dean Whitehouse is a biologist. He takes only juniors upwards. I don’t have Biology as a major, and so I stare goggle-eyed at the Powerpoint display as he taps the collapsible screen with his long, wooden pointer.
“The uterus,” he says, “is the medical term for the womb. It’s situated in the pelvic cavity between the bladder and rectum.”
The pointer is three feet long and tipped with black rubber. I’m amazed he doesn’t use a laser pointer.
The boy next to me is trying to signal my attention. He’s a cute, freckled, red-haired youth with a wide, grinning mouth.
“Hi,” he whispers, “never seen you around before.”
I nod carefully. The last thing I want is to be picked up.
“I’m just visiting,” I whisper back.
Dean Whitehouse powers on in his stentorian voice. “The uterus is hollow and muscular. It opens to the fallopian tubes on the left and right.”
Tap, tap goes the stick on the projected image of the Fallopian tubes.
“You wanna go get a drink later? I’m Percy, by the way,” says the redhead.
“And below,” Dean Whitehouse is saying, “the uterine cavity connects to the vagina.”
“I can’t. I have an appointment to see the dean,” I reply truthfully.
Dean Whitehouse glances at his watch. “That’s all the time we have for today, folks. For our next class, I want you to read the entire chapter of ‘Ovaries, Ovums and what they do’.” He turns his gimlet eyes on all of us, focusing particularly on Percy, who is leaning towards me. “See that you arrive prepared,” he adds.
Students around me gather their books and iPads as they leave the lecture hall with a clatter of chairs. I wait, just as Devlin has told me to, until the last one has exited the room. She shuts the heavy double doors behind her with a click.
Dean Whitehouse is powering down his computer. I gather my bag and traipse down the steps to approach him. Up close, he is even more handsome. His dark hair is winged with silver above his ears, and he has a face like a hawk’s – noble and steely.
“Yes?” He regards me.
“Dean Whitehouse,” I say in a rush, suddenly feeling nervous, “I’m Gina Wesley, an initiate. Max Devlin sent me.”
Dean Whitehouse snaps his computer shut.
“Ah, the freshman,” he remarks.
My mouth dries. “I’ve been through three levels already, sir. If you would be so good to initiate me . . . I would be most grateful.”
He pauses and gazes at me out of his unnervingly blue eyes. “Have you come prepared as instructed by Max Devlin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then show me your teats.”
Teats. The very word conjures humungous breasts with milking nipples. I fumble at my blouse buttons.
“Just undo the top three,” he commands.
Underneath, I’m wearing a lacy white bra two sizes smaller than my usual. My breasts are straining to pop out of their barely-there cups.
“Tease out your teats. Leave them hanging out of your blouse.”
I grab my breasts and ease my large red nipples out of their casings. They look like sweet strawberries, if I may say so. My breasts spring out in their firm, bouncing glory – my cleavage greatly enhanced by my tight bra underwire and cups.
Dean Whitehouse picks up his three-foot long pointer. My hackles rise as he prods my right nipple with its rubber tip, pressing it in so firmly so that it sinks into the cushion of my breast.
Tears of pain spring to my eyes.
He transfers his pointer to my left nipple. With its tip, he flicks the underside of my teat so that it becomes perky and erect.
“Let me see your cunt,” he says.
Almost bashfully, I raise my red and black checkered skirt high. Underneath, I’m wearing a miniscule red thong. It’s so tiny that it barely covers my clitoris. It runs from just above my cleft to stop a centimeter before my vaginal hole, where it parts in two spaghetti strands to join a single string at the back. Almost all of my labia are exposed, as are my asshole and soft, rounded ass cheeks.
Standing there with my breasts spilling out of my blouse and the hem of my skirt raised high, I feel strange as the cold air-conditioning of the lecture hall raises goose bumps on my skin.
“Lift your skirt higher and stand with your legs apart,” Dean Whitehouse demands.
I obey. My heart is thudding in my chest. Any moment now, I expect someone to barge into the lecture hall.
Dean Whitehouse does not seem to be perturbed by this possibility. He prods my clit with the pointer stick. I gasp at the firm pressure on my sensitive nub. Then he parts my right labia from my sticky clit, raising it with the stick’s tip as though it’s a curling leaf. The wood rests between the soft, red flesh of my labia and my clit. He holds it like that for a while, sliding the pointer back and forth so that it grates against my raw flesh.
I open my mouth soundlessly from the sheer pleasure.
Scritch, scritch, scritch, goes the pointer.
He repeats it with my left labia, eliciting a soft moan from me as the sensation in my clit flares.
Then he makes me turn to show him my ass.
“Bend over.”
I grasp my ankles and fold myself almost double, my buttocks sticking into the air. Once again, he uses the pointer to separate my ass cheeks. My heart is in my mouth as my asshole puckers, anticipating sudden and violent entry.
The rubber tip worms into my anus and lingers there, just outside my rectal walls. I close my eyes and brace myself for that long, three-foot stick to impale me. How far would he shove it in?
But the stick strays from my asshole. It hooks my elastic thong and teases it down my butt instead, rolling the little piece of string down my thighs.
Dean Whitehouse says abruptly, “Go to my office. My PA will let you in. Once there, go stand facing the right corner beside the bookcase. Tuck your skirt into its waistband. Take off your blouse, but leave your bra on to expose your teats the way you’re doing now.”
I lower my skirt, pulse racing, and button up my blouse.
“Give me your thong.”
I strip it off and hold it out. He takes it with the pointer and drops it into the bin beside the lectern. Throwing him a swift look, I leave the lecture hall. I pace down the passageways, passing students rushing to the next class – aware that my bare pussy is leaking juices that are trickling down my thighs.
The dean’s office is on the second floor. His personal assistant, Jenny Fields, looks up as I enter.
“Dean Whitehouse sent me,” I say.
“Of course.” She indicates the inner door of his office with her pen and eyes me with a knowing look. “Go right in and make sure you follow his instructions to the letter.”
I walk in with trepidation and shut the door. The dean’s office is huge, with a large oak desk neatly arranged with in-trays and papers. Bookshelves and certificates line the walls, while a large window frames the silhouette of the black leather chair.
I find the corner the dean has indicated. I wonder if he has spy cameras in here, watching my every move. I quickly shrug my blouse off and tease my tits out of their bra cups. How huge they are squeezed in from both sides like this. I lift my skirt up and tuck it neatly into the waistband, just as Dean Whitehouse has ordered. My pussy and ass are now displayed, framed by my elastic garter and virginal white stockings.
I wait there for a long time, feeling conscious of all my exposed naughty bits and the fact that anyone – especially Ms. Fields – would be able to open the door and walk in without warning.
The door finally opens. I half-turn as Dean Whitehouse strides in.
“Did I say you could look at me?”
I hastily avert my face. I can feel his eyes appraising my bottom. I can feel him smiling. There are sounds of papers and trays on the table being swept aside.
“Come here, Gina, and get up on the desk.”
The desk is quite high, and so I have to clamber on a chair to vault myself onto its top.
“Squat facing me with your legs open and your hands squeezing your teats.”
I obey. I’m nervous of my glistening pussy lips – and what he would perceive of me when he sees how wet I am. From a drawer, Dean Whitehouse removes a long contraption made from metal and tiny chains. It’s shaped in a Y. All three of its ends flare into crocodile-like clamps.
“See these?” He demonstrates how tight the clamps are – like clothespins – by clicking them softly. I begin to tremble.
He places two clamps on both my protruding nipples. Unlike the ones that Devlin has clipped me with before, the blunted teeth on these ones bite down on my skin so that it actually hurts.
I whimper.
“Now, now, surely you’re not a soft girl. You’ll be able to take a little pain.”
He moves the third crocodile clamp to my pussy. He regards my terrified face as, with his huge thumb and index finger, he seizes my moist clit.
“Please, sir, no!” I cry.
The clamp snares almost the entire flesh of my sensitive hood and nips down on it firmly. Tears of pain flood my eyes. A stinging sensation of deep, intimate pain immediately flares in my clitoris.
My trapped nipples and clit are now connected to one another by the Y filigree chain.
Dean Whitehouse grabs my chin. “Do not call me ‘sir’. From now on, you’ll refer to me as ‘teacher’, understand?”
He makes me nod. “Yes, teacher.”
“Good. Now I want you to stand up on the table with your legs apart.”
Uncurling my knees, I attempt to straighten myself. The chains of the clamps become taut, pulling my nipples downward and lifting my clit painfully.
“Now pinch both your earlobes with your fingers. I want you to pull yourself down by the ears into a squat. Then stand up again. Do this fifty times.”
The tears are running down my cheeks. Fifty times! Surely he does not mean to humiliate me thus!
I seize my earlobes and pull myself down, bending my legs at the knees.
“Count,” Dean Whitehouse commands me.
“One.” As I descend into a squat, the tension of the clamps on my nipples and clit lessens. But when I raise myself again, the tautness returns, and my intimate parts are once again cruelly tugged together. My embarrassment is extreme.
“Two. Three.”
Dean Whitehouse produces a long birch cane from behind his desk. I jump as he strikes the top of the desk with it.
“Four.”
Smack! goes the birch cane on my naked buttocks. I cry out.
“Did I say you could stop counting?”
“No, teacher! Five.”
Smack! The flesh of my buttocks becomes aflame.
‘Six.”
Each time I descend, the cane strikes my buttocks swiftly, sending paroxysms of heat running across them like ants.
“Eight. Nine.” I’m openly sobbing with the pain and humiliation now. “Ten, eleven, twelve.”
“Faster!”
My thigh muscles are weakening.
Smack!
“Fifteen.” My voice is turning into a weak whisper.
“You’re cheating, freshman. You’re not coming down low enough. Do it!”
Smack!
“Nineteen,” I moan, “twenty.”
“Not low enough!” he roars. “Stop!”
My body wavers as he makes me squat once again. He removes yet another device from his drawer. It is a large black dildo fastened to several straps. A curious metal ball hangs from its base by a string.
I gasp as Dean Whitehouse inserts the dildo roughly into my wet vaginal hole. It’s huge and it immediately spreads my vaginal walls, pushing them apart until it abuts against the mouth of my cervix. The metal ball trails from my pussy hole and skims the table top as Dean Whitehouse harnesses the straps around my hips to secure the dildo snugly.
Once satisfied with my position, he places a flat silver plate below the dangling metal ball.
“Now continue. Each time you come down, the ball must strike the plate. That’s how I’ll know if you’re low enough. Begin!”
In horror, I straighten myself again. This time, when my groin descends, the metal ball hits the silver plate with a clink.
“Twenty-one. Twenty-two.”
Clink.
“Are you a slut?”
“Yes, teacher, I’m a slut.”
Each time the metal ball fails to make contact with the plate, he deals my buttocks and thighs a double blow with the birch cane. My flesh is risscrossed with angry red streaks and my throat is hoarse from crying.
“Thirty. Thirty-one.”
Clink.
“How many men have you fornicated with?”
My mind is a soupy mush.
“I don’t know, sir.”
Smack!
“I mean, I’ve lost count, teacher.”
“How many men have had their cocks in your whore mouth?”
I’ve lost count of that too.
Smack!
Finally, when I reach the count of fifty, he lets me rest my poor, burning buttocks on the table as he removes the excruciating clamps and dildo. My face is flushed and sweaty. I’m dizzy and weak as he caresses my chafed nipples, tweaking them into their former fleshy state. He ignores my throbbing clit, now numb to all sensation.
He leaves me like this for a while, slumped across the table as I let my churning blood settle. Then he raises me again into my squatting position. Weakly, I comply. I notice that he has removed his jacket and tie. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing his hairy and muscled arms. A huge bulge occupies the crotch of his pants.
Dean Whitehouse inserts a whiteboard marker by its holding end into my vulva. It slides in smoothly. He places a piece of paper on the table below my pussy and uncaps the marker so that its inky end points down.
“Now write on this paper – ‘I’m a slut and whore’.”
I’m petrified. I have never before used my pussy to write anything.
“Do it!” He slaps my tits so that a red palm imprint suddenly appears on my prominent left breast.
I take a deep breath. Surely it is not that hard. Slowly, my flaming buttocks quivering, I begin to grind the pen’s tip onto the paper, fashioning a shaky ‘I’. My vaginal muscles clench the shaft of the pen mightily. Its rounded end scrapes against my cervix.
“Not good enough.” He slaps my other tit. I cry out. “The lines must be straight and clean.”
Gathering all my reserves to steel my groin area from trembling too much with the strain, I finish the declaration – I AM A SLUT AND WHORE – with difficulty. When Dean Whitehouse finally removes the pen, it’s slicked with my thick pussy juices.
He helps me climb down from the table. “Take off your shoes, but leave your stockings on.”
Tugging me by the right nipple so that I almost trip after him, he takes me through an adjoining door into a smaller room. Several thick ropes are suspended from the ceiling. They fall to the level of my breasts. My eyes round in amazement as I take in the contraptions in the room – including several mounts with tall metal rods sprouting from their adjustable bases. The rods are shaped into rounded circular loops with ratchets.
“You will learn to like this.”
Dean Whitehouse seizes my wrists and twists them behind my back. A cry wrings from my throat. He ties my wrists up with two of the suspended ropes. I’m bent forward, my breasts spilling out of my tight bra, as my arms are pulled upward by the ascending ropes.
He grabs both my ankles and secures them similarly. The rope bites into my flesh, sending a wave of hot new tears into my eyes. I’m now suspended in the air, belly down, hogtied by my wrists and ankles behind my back. My thighs are flung wide apart.
Dean Whitehouse looks at me with satisfaction. “Do you like this, freshman?”
A lump comes to my throat. “I will learn to like it, teacher.”
“Good.” He strokes my head as he bends down to clip my already sore nipples with two new weights. These are metal, heavy and triangular in shape. I think they must weigh 200 grams, at least. They drag my nipples downward.
Dean Whitehouse is positioning a mount behind me.
He takes out a large plasticized pink dildo from a drawer and shows it to me. My eyes pop out of my head when I see it. Its head is shaped like a regular bulbous cock. It is easily twelve inches long and thicker than a giant white radish. It’s the largest and thickest dildo I have ever seen.
Dismay leaps to my throat.
“Do you want to be fucked by this?” He waves it in front of my face. Then he brushes the head lightly across my lips and smears it against my cheek and neck.
My tongue dries. Inwardly, I’m whimpering. I close my eyes and squeeze out my tears. Inside my pussy, the cream is gathering again in thick, copious ropes. What does it all mean? That I desire this? That I want to be punished, humiliated and fucked in every position until sundown?
The dildo penetrates the deep valley between my bunched tits. Dean Whitehouse slides it back and forth so that I can feel how big and thick it is between my firm mounds.
I find myself saying, “Yes, teacher, if it pleases you.”
“Very well, you’ll get your wish.”
He goes behind me and prizes my pussy lips apart. He then uses three of his large fingers to stretch my vulva. I’m so wet that I don’t need lubrication.
“Take a deep breath.”
I grit my teeth, my breath coming out in short gasps, as the massive dildo enters my dripping pussy. It’s difficult because the dildo is larger than any cock which has ever penetrated me. Dean Whitehouse twists the head into my vulva, like a corkscrew. Then slowly, he pushes it in, all the time grinding it into me and allowing it to open me up like a flower.
This time, I can’t help it, I scream. The dildo is too huge.
“Please, teacher, I don’t think I can take it. It will tear me apart!”
“Nonsense. The world’s smallest vagina can take the world’s thickest cock.”
But this is too huge, I want to cry. With moist screwing sounds, the dildo separates the walls of my vagina centimeter by centimeter, as though it too knows that it must take me slowly. I blubber and weep, thanking my lucky stars that I’m so wet.
“Breathe in.”
The dildo further burrows itself into me, stretching me as far and wide as my pussy can be stretched. I moan, sweat beading on my brow. It snuggles in deeper and deeper, crawling across my G-spot so that I’m almost blanked out with pleasure. Finally, it stops as its tip rests against my cervix. I’m filled to the brim, my thighs aching from being held so wide apart.
Dean Whitehouse secures the dildo’s base in the eyelet of the mount. Then he drags another mount in front of my face.
“Open your mouth . . . wide.”
He shoves another dildo – a smaller yellow one this time, but extremely large on its own merit – into my mouth and clamps it into the mount in a similar fashion. The dildo occupies my entire mouth up to the base of my throat so that my cheek muscles are forced to maintain maximal stretch.
He appraises his handiwork. I’m hogtied, suspended and fucked cruelly in the cunt and mouth by two humongous pieces of rubberized plastic. At my swollen teats, the weights grip and pull.
“I’ll leave you like this for a while so that you can fully enjoy your bondage,” he says.
He quietly shuts the door behind him.
I’m not sure how long I’m suspended there. Through the one window, I can see the sky darkening with storm clouds. The dildos fucking my pussy and mouth settle into a comfortable hold as my saliva and juices moisten their shafts. Discomfort transcends into acceptance – and maybe even contentment as I’m filled so completely that I have no room to maneuver. My entire body’s sensation is compressed into my massively stretched vagina, mouth and my aching, gravity-pulled nipples.
I may even have drifted off to sleep, thinking of Max Devlin’s gorgeous face and warm, hard cock.
The sound of a door opening awakens me.
Dean Whitehouse strides in.
“Comfortable?” he inquires, and nods in satisfaction when he takes in my state. “We’ll make a bound slave out of you yet.”
He removes the dildos from my mouth and vagina, and the weights from my pulled and very numb teats. He unties my bonds and lowers me from the ropes. Rubbing my nipples so that the blood flows into them again, he leads me back to his office, where we cross to another adjoining room on the other side.
He opens the door.
I take a step back as I see three other people in what looks to be a gynecological examination room, complete with a reclining couch, stirrups, and paraphernalia not out of place in a clinic. The three people are college-aged. I recognize one of them to be the red-headed boy from this morning’s class.
He lights up as soon as he sees me.
“Hey,” he says, taking in my breasts bursting out of my bra and my sore, naked pussy between my white garters and stockings.
The other two are a cleft-chinned boy and a pretty girl with an upturned nose and pageboy hair. They are obviously students. They too stare at my revealed intimate parts and the band of folded schoolgirl skirt around my waist. My remaining clothes only serve to accentuate whatever I have left bare.
“This is Gina,” Dean Whitehouse says. “Gina, meet Percy – ”
The redhead waves at me.
“ – Ralph and Alice. They’re from my Biology class. Today, they are about to be given a show-and-tell on the anatomy of female arousal.”
A sliver of delicious anticipation uncurls in my spine. The students beam.
“Now remove all your clothes, Gina, leaving only your garters and stockings.”
I stand in front of the seated students, all who are inspecting me as though I’m a specimen in a lab. I flush as I unclasp my bra, finally freeing my tits from their bounded confines. I unhook the skirt and let it fall to my ankles.
“Beautiful, isn’t she? Quite a work of art. Young, tender, and soft as a fawn.” Dean Whitehouse observes.
He’s greeted with a chorus of “Oh, yes’s”.
“Is she a virgin, sir?” Percy says eagerly.
Dean Whitehouse ignores this. “Approach, all three of you, to observe.”
With scrapes of chairs, the three students clamber up to gather around me.
“May we touch her?” Alice says. Her brown eyes are wide.
“In good time. Let’s start with the breasts as an erogenous zone. You will find that most tactile nerves are concentrated on the nipple.” Dean Whitehouse rolls my right nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. “See how it stands up when I manipulate it. You can try for yourself.”
Their mouths hanging open, Percy, Ralph and Alice prod and caress my breasts and nipples. Their touch is gentle after Dean Whitehouse’s rough treatment of them. Percy pulls at my left nipple, letting it snap back into position.
“Wow,” he says, “they’re so erect.”
“She does have rather large areolas, which are considered erotic by most standards,” Dean Whitehouse agrees. “Observe the tiny milk ducts in them. After childbirth, these swell by oxytocin to produce milk.”
I run my tongue over my lips.
“Now for her buttocks.” He turns me around.
Gasps greet me as the students observe the red cane strokes on my soft flesh.
“She’s been beaten,” Alice exclaims.
“Yes. The buttocks are also an erogenous zone, not as much as the nipples as the nerve tendrils here are spread over a wider space.”
“They are shaped like moons,” Ralph declares.
“Go ahead, touch them.”
Hands begin to clasp and grab my sore buttocks, running all over them.
“Can we see her anus?” Alice says timidly.
“For a better view, we will have to mount her on the examination couch. Come, Gina.”
The students’ eyes follow me as I’m led to the black leather couch.
“Lie down. Put your legs into the stirrups.”
I obey, easing my thighs into the metal contraptions. I notice that these have leather bands studded with rivets and hooks attached to them. Dean Whitehouse straps my thighs down with these leather bands. He manipulates the stirrups so that my legs are stretched wide – open at almost a hundred-and-eighty degree plane. My buttocks rest on the edge of the couch.
Above Dean Whitehouse’s head, a single camera trains its aperture on my pussy and asshole. He flicks on a button and a projector flares to life, portraying an extreme close-up of my groin on a wall. I can see every fold and cleft of my pussy, and the white cream that is trickling out of my gaping and black vaginal hole, magnified so large on the wall that it resembles a cave mouth. My anus too is opening and closing like a drawstring.
“Wow.” Percy draws in a sharp breath. “Amazing.”
Ralph eyes him curiously. “Haven’t you ever seen pussy before?”
“Not one as pretty as this.”
Dean Whitehouse picks up a pair of tweezers from a metal tray containing instruments laid snugly on a green cloth. I brace myself for more humiliation.
“The external female reproductive organ consists of several parts. This is the mons pubis.” He taps the area above my clit with the tweezers.
“Are pussies always shaved?” asks Percy in an innocent tone.
Alice jabs him with her thumb.
“No, but Gina has chosen to remove all her pubic hair. How often do you wax, Gina?”
“Once a week,” I reply.
Dean Whitehouse seizes my right labia with the tweezers and pulls it from my clit. “These are the labia majora – left and right. Curled inside, you can see the labia minora.”
The faces of Ralph and Percy are very close to my pussy, so close that their noses are almost grazing me.
“You can see them better on the monitor,” Dean Whitehouse cautions.
“No, we’re fine,” Percy says, his eyes glued to my labia.
I want to curl up in embarrassment.
“Can we peel the other one?” Ralph says.
“OK.”
Ralph pulls my left labia apart with his thumb and index finger.
“Wow,” he says. “Like, wow.”
“We will keep the major labia apart so that you can better appreciate what’s in between.” Dean Whitehouse applies a clamp like a small forceps on my right labia, and secures its other end to a hook on the leather band securing my right thigh. He does the same to my left, so that my pussy lips are both pulled wide apart in the direction of my thighs.
Dean Whitehouse continues, tapping my naked clitoris with the tweezers. “This is the hood of the clitoris, the most erogenous organ in the female body. The clitoris is to a woman what the head of the penis is to a man, an area packed with a massive concentration of nerve fibers for tactile sensation and pleasure.”
“Can we touch it?” Percy asks.
Alice smacks his shoulder. “Stop it!”
“What? I was only asking.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Dean Whitehouse produces a large orange device that resembles a microphone. He switches it on and it begins to hum mechanically.
It’s a vibrator. A very strong one, judging from its high-pitched, battery-charged whine.
He presses its large head onto my clit, and a sensation immediately engulfs me. My pleasure is instantaneous in my entire pussy area as the sweet vibrations flood my clit. I moan and arch my back.
“May I?” Ralph says.
He takes the vibrator and nudges it up and down my clit, pressing the head hard into the folds between my clit and stretched labia – where the pleasure is even more intense. I’m writhing and groaning in my bonds, and my hands clutch the sides of the couch as the vibrator continues to assault my pussy. Juices flow in sluices from my vaginal hole, wetting the rim of my anus and the leather of the couch.
‘Good.” Dean Whitehouse takes the vibrator away from the overeager Ralph and switches it off. “Of course, there is another erogenous zone inside the vagina. It’s called the G-spot.”
“I don’t have one,” Alice declares. “I can never reach orgasm during fucking.”
“You mean you were pretending all this while?” Ralph says.
Alice punches him. “I’m a clitoral person.”
“But what about the mouth, sir?” asks Percy. He’s a troublemaker, that Percy. “Is the mouth not an erogenous zone? During fellatio, can I make a woman come just by having my penis in her mouth?”
“I’ve never heard of such a stupid thing,” Alice says, rolling her eyes.
I decide that I like her.
Ralph shrugs. “Why don’t you find out?”
“May I ask Gina to perform fellatio on me, sir?” Percy says eagerly.
“You don’t have to ask her. She’s yours for the taking. Isn’t that right, Gina?”
Weakly, I nod.
“We’ve got her in a nice position,” Dean Whitehouse warns, “so don’t move her. The head of the couch is collapsible. Just let it down so that her head will drop.”
Percy rushes to do so. His eyes meet mine as he lets the portion of the couch supporting my head fall. My neck bends backward and my head lolls helplessly. My rich mahogany hair trails to the floor. At my pussy, someone has started up the vibrator again and presses it against my clit.
Percy grabs my head and kisses my mouth. “I’m going to date you yet,” he whispers.
He unzips the fly of his pants and takes out his hard, medium-sized cock. Bending his knees slightly, he pushes it into my open mouth.
“Wow,” he says, “I can reach all the way down to your throat.”
Indeed, my neck is one continuous plane to my chin so that the passage to my throat is straight and true. Percy’s warm, hairy balls are pressed against my nose so that I’m finding it difficult to breathe as he begins to slide his cock in and out of my mouth. I can take him right to the hilt. Down there, Ralph is having a whale of a time with the vibrator. Every time he roams near my clit, my body shudders.
Percy fucks and fucks my mouth until he’s groaning. His balls continue to slap and tickle my nose, so that I’m breathing in air only when he allows me to. I feel the waves of orgasm cresting in me as Ralph slides the vibrator up and down my clit, grinding it into my tender flesh. I’m struggling and moaning against the penis in my mouth.
I explode, my mind showering with bright sparks. The muscles of my hip and groin clench and unclench, shuddering deeply.
Percy finally shoots his wad inside my throat.
“Hot damn,” I hear him say above me as his warm sperm hits the front of my throat and trickles down to the roof of my upside down mouth. He leaves his deflating cock in my mouth for a long while, panting. Then he withdraws his cock, letting his cum drool out from the sides of my mouth. “Oh, Gina, you’re good, you’re so good. I think I love you.”
Something tugs at my heart. Max Devlin’s handsome flushed face appears before me. Would I ever hear those words coming out of Devlin’s mouth? He has not even kissed me or used his mouth on me once.
Percy lets my head up again by rearranging the couch. He slicks his sperm from my cheeks and looks at me gratefully.
“Thank you.”
At my pussy, Ralph has stopped the vibrator.
“Now can we demonstrate a G-spot orgasm, sir?” he says.
Alice glares at him. “Don’t you dare volunteer to fuck her.”
“I can fuck her,” Percy says, tucking in his now limp cock back into his pants. “Just gimme some time.”
“No,” Dean Whitehouse says. “The human penis, moved by the contractions of the male gluteal muscles, can only move at a finite speed. The G-spot orgasm is better demonstrated by a machine.”
Fearfully, I raise my head.
Dean Whitehouse removes a green cloth covering an instrument that looks like a gun. Maybe not a gun. A bazooka. It stands on a tripod. A large purple dildo is attached to its gun shaft, if it can be called that. The metal box that supplies the mechanism is futuristic and studded with dials.
Ralph and Alice stand back as Dean Whitehouse wheels the machine to my pussy. The height of the dildo is directly level to my vulva, and he inserts the purple dildo in me snugly. The dildo is large enough to fill me and expand my walls, but not enormous enough to cause actual discomfort like the other one.
“This fucking machine can go up to 150 strokes a minute, but of course, we’ll start slow.”
He turns on a dial. The machine starts with a sound like a clamping device as the dildo begins to fuck me. Dean Whitehouse turns up the dial. The sensations rubbing my G-spot become more intense. I thrash my head side to side and moan as I clutch at the leather around me.
Percy gives me his hand. I squeeze it tightly. He smiles reassuringly at me.
Dean Whitehouse turns the machine up yet another notch. I grunt and squeal. The machine is going faster than any human cock can possibly do. I can see the purple dildo entering my wet, glistening pussy hole on the wall projection – amazingly blown up.
The machine strokes and pounds against my G-spot and cervix. Faster, it goes. And faster. The rising wave of a violent orgasm crashes over me, rendering me into a quivering mass of flesh and screams.
And still the machine continues to barrel into my pussy. My orgasm continues, seemingly unending. My screams are deafening in my own ears. Percy strokes my hair and damp forehead.
“Ssssh,” he says, “ssssh.”
The machine continues to fuck me, going so fast that its movements are a blur on the wall projection. Every fiber of me swarms with sensory overload. I’m twisting, shuddering, moaning and screeching in every way possible.
Dean Whitehouse seizes the vibrator and smears its head against my clit. I’m assailed by a double orgasm – from my clitoris and my G-spot – so sublime that my mind explodes in a shower of white sparks. My continuous screaming tears my head off.
Finally, the machine stops. I shudder, completely spent and drenched in sweat. Percy is cooing “Oh you darling” and “baby” into my ears. When I open my eyes, Ralph’s erect cock is out of his unbuttoned pants and Alice is sucking it for all she’s worth, her cheeks hollowing and expanding.
Dean Devlin strokes my mons. “Good girl. Now you can come home with me.”
