The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Josh woke up with the sound of the kettle. Initial surveys revealed that he was lying in a bed. Amy and Becky, the sweet little blonde girl and the punky redhead were cuddled up to him on either side, arms and legs confused around him. Wow, he thought: That really did happen. He could see no sign of the third girl, the brunette, although the distant, siren call of a boiling kettle implied that she might be in the kitchen.

Entangled as he was, he didn’t have much option but to lie there. He couldn’t quite believe the way last night had gone, but… here he was.

Where was here? He looked around him; he was in a student bedroom, clearly that of one of the girls. There were photos all over the walls, taken on various nights out. Many of the pictures featured one, two or all three of the girls who’d brought him home. He had a vague awareness that the taxi had brought them to somewhere in the student neighbourhood, not too far from where he lived.

Sweet lord... his memory flashed back obscene and extraordinary images from last night. That had... really happened? The girls were wrapped around him, they were both naked, and there were condom packets strewn everywhere.

The door moved, and Lucy stuck her head in. She noticed that he was awake, and smiled. “Oh, good morning honey.” She entered the room, completely naked herself, her beautiful body drawing his eyes: pretty legs, a round butt, smooth belly and pretty, pert, but quite large breasts. She watched his gaze track up her body, and when it reached her face she smiled at him as she walked over to the bed. She leaned over Amy and kissed him, then asked, “Tea?”

“Er… yeah,” he managed.

As Lucy straightened up and moved away, Amy woke, her blonde hair a cloud around her face. “Mmmh,” she grunted. “Oh! Good morning.” She smiled at him and kissed him. “Sleep well?”

“I’m not convinced I’m awake yet.”

She laughed. “Maybe I need to pinch you, to find out?” Somehow, through the jumble of limbs, her hand found his cock, and tweaked it, playfully.

He gave a little yelp, and jumped; the movement disturbed the sleeping Becky, on the other side, and she grunted, and rolled over onto her back. Her arm flopped over to the side, pulling her chest out, making her breasts sit up proudly. A huge winding Celtic tattoo flowed round from her back and across her belly, her muscles taut and defined under tanned golden skin. She gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Josh looked back at Amy. She giggled, and said, “It’s OK, go on, look. I don’t mind.”

He turned his head back, and drank in the form of the redhead. His cock twitched in Amy’s hand.

“Oh, you like her? She’s beautiful, isn’t she? That body just makes you want to… touch it.” Amy’s other hand reached over Josh, and hovered above Becky’s stomach, the fingertips no more than an inch above her. “I bet you’d like to watch me go down on her.” She slipped out from her entanglement with Josh, and crouched over Becky. One hand dropped, and lightly brushed the inner sides of her friend’s thigh. The redhead shifted slightly, parting her legs, exposing her pussy, the clit ring glittering.

The blonde girl lowered her face, her tongue finding Becky’s button, shooting a jolt through her; her eyes snapped open as they met Amy’s, her thighs clamping around her head.

“Oooh,” she cooed. Her hand, which had been curled up in Josh’s chest, snaked down to his crotch, and grasped his member. “Good morning.”

So transfixed was Josh by all this that he almost hadn’t noticed Lucy returning. He jumped slightly as her tongue, hot from her tea, found the tip of his cock. Becky’s hand released it and moved towards her crotch, settling briefly on the back of Amy’s head, as she bobbed and caressed. This allowed Lucy to go deeper, which she did, forcing his cock to the back of her throat.

The redhead stroked the far side of Josh’s face, pulling his mouth round to meet hers. She stared into his eyes as both of them shivered with thrills and ripples of ecstasy from the mouths and tongues between their legs. A wave of sensation surged through Josh as Lucy suddenly drove her head down on his cock, pushing it all the way into her throat, her lips reaching the base. For a moment, she held him there, then came up, coughed, and took it in again, all the way down. She held it more easily this time, then came up, with an excited look on her face. “Oh my God! I’ve never done that before.” She did it again, dropping her head and forcing his cock into her throat.

“That’s pretty cool, Lu,” Becky complimented her.

The brunette looked up, grinning smugly. “Hey,” she told Josh, “Don’t let your tea go cold.”

Carolina wrote her phone number in lipstick on the guy’s bathroom mirror, and slipped out of the house, leaving him sleeping soundly, snoring gently. She smiled. This was a more blatant walk of shame than most; after all her tiny dress screamed sex, and the heels helped. She fished a cigarette from her bag, a prop to add to the costume.

Three guys; not a bad score. And she’d got absolutely everything she could out of the last one. She was still horny, and, in fact, her sense of smugness from the brazen way she’d behaved last night turned her on even more. Wow: she’d never have thought being a slut was so much fun, or that she’d take to it so naturally.

It was not far back to her house, and she decided to walk it. It was beautiful morning, and she figured she would enjoy attracting some attention on the way home. And then once she’d had a bit more sleep and a wash, and maybe done a bit of reading, she had an appointment at three.

Aoife took a swig of her tea, and waited.

Gina fretted with her cup. “I… I’m worried about him.”

The Irish girl raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

“I mean… I haven’t felt myself, either—”

“Really? Because I’ve been feeling myself almost constantly.”

That lifted the mood slightly. “No, I mean I haven’t felt right. I can sort of tell that… I went a bit funny, during that… night of torture, before I gave in; and I haven’t really come back to being myself since.”

“Do you mean, like, horny?”

“No, more like crazy. Horny as well, but…” She furrowed her brows. “During the night, the thing that sent me over the edge was that I thought I heard the voice of God. I thought He was telling me that the treatment was His work, and my body was His work, and that it was my responsibility to use them both to further… His work.”

“Oh, gosh.”

“I mean I literally heard a voice. Which, you know, now, I’m sure was just in my head, but… it felt real.” She looked down, then continued, hurriedly, “After I had the emitter, and then we, you know, I kind of calmed down a bit, but I still feel kind of… not quite in balance.”

“You didn’t really join in much, did you?”

“No. I mean at first I did, I fucked Dave—”

“Everybody fucked Dave,” said Aoife with a grin.

“But then after that, Andrew kind of dragged me aside. I spent all of yesterday with him, and most of it in bed. I think… I think he’s still where I was at first. I mean I think the whole night of denial did something to him.”

“Is he still doing all that ‘It’s God’s will’ shit?”

Gina made a face. “Yes. If anything more so.”

“Did you know him before?”

“Not really. I mean we go to the same church, so I’d seen him, but he was never really sociable, so I don’t… I wouldn’t have said we were close friends.” She took a sip of tea. “He kind of… it almost felt like he was keeping me confined. I wanted to call you yesterday, but whenever I reached for my phone, I could feel the disapproval.”

“Hence the cryptic text,” said Aoife. “But you’re here now.”

“He went out, he said he had some stuff to do, so I went back to mine, and that’s when I called you. He’s expecting us to meet up again later, but frankly, I’m not sure if I want to go back to him. I mean, I’m kind of nervous about going back to mine; he knows where I live.”

“Hmmm. Well you’d be welcome to stay over at mine. I’ll tell Sean your pipes burst and you need a place to crash for a couple of days while the landlord fixes up your flat. In fact…” a wicked gleam came into her eyes: “I reckon we could surprise him with a threesome.”

“Do you think he’d go for it?”

“Gina. You’re totally fucking hot, and he’s male. I think we could sell it. Let’s all get drunk and let nature take its course.”

“Oh wow. Are you sure? You won’t mind?”

“It’ll be great.” After a moment of contemplation, Aoife became serious again. “How are you feeling about the whole, you know, God thing now?”

Gina looked troubled. “Well. I kind of—I think if God has allowed this to happen, then it must somehow… fit with His plan. I mean, I’ve done all sorts of things over the last couple of days that are disapproved of in Leviticus. But it didn’t feel wrong. Apart from Andrew. Oh, I don’t know… are you religious?”

The Irish girl laughed. “Well now… I was raised as a Catholic, but by now I sorta think… my relationship with God is between me and the big fella himself, and I’m loathe to let anyone else provide the interpretation for me. The way I figure it, there is a lot of stuff in the Book, and a lot of it was written thousands of years ago, and it was all written down by humans, at specific times, in specific places, for specific reasons. From the moment the Romans got involved, there’s a definite agenda being pursued. And before that, well, it was a very different world to this one. I think if He is up there, looking down at us, he’ll be kind of wanting for us to make our own decisions. If we do things for the right reasons, I don’t see how it can be wrong. If I’m not hurting anyone, or lying to anyone, if I’m being a generally good person… I don’t see why he’d have a problem with it.”

Gina nodded.

Aoife added, “I mean it’s easier for me than it is for you. As I say, I was raised as a Catholic. And it’s pretty hard to look back at the things the Catholic Church has done or said over the years, or things that have been done in the name of the Church, and say, ‘Yep, that was all infallible and benevolent.’ Especially in Ireland.”

“I guess. So… I mean… is it right?”

“Is what right?”

“Having sex with people. You know… promiscuity.”

“You’re asking me?”

“I can’t really go to my minister with this.”

Aoife shrugged. “So… my way of looking at it is, as long as you’re not cruel, or reckless; as long as you don’t damage any relationships, or abuse anyone… without meaning to sound grandiose about it, use it in a decent way; I don’t see why it would be wrong.”

“But… I mean, how? Who?”

Aoife laughed again. “I bet I can think of a few guys who are probably badly in need of a fuck by now. Lina went home with the big lad and his two housemates; if she’s been keeping all three of them busy, she’ll probably be in need of a breather, too.”

“Oh… that’s true.” A certain look came into her eyes.

Aoife saw it, and capitalised: “And that guy Colin had a really big cock, even before. I mean my boobs have grown, and I reckon my belly is flatter, and my backside has perked up a bit, so I’m betting that thing is pretty impressive by now.”

“Ooooh.”

“I’ve got their phone numbers…” she teased, in the certain knowledge that Gina was hooked already.

Tim showed Andrew the emitter that he was keeping in the physics labs. He didn’t see any reason not to: after all he knew the boy was one of the students who had been affected by the events over the weekend, and he assumed, that like Greg, Andrew was working on something to do with the situation. And he’d explained quite a lot to the other kid, who, in return, had helped him to understand how to tune the machine.

Andrew was astonished, and pleased, to learn that it had all been cobbled together out of fairly standard components.

“And who built it? Did you connect it all up yourself?”

“Once Dave had told us what we needed, I got a couple of the postgrads to put it together.”

“Oh, what were their names? I actually know a couple of physics postgrads from church.” said Andrew.

“Well, I know James MacFarlane goes to church.”

“Oh. No, I don’t know him.” But I will, later, he thought. “Can you mail me across the specs, so I can read up on how it works?”

Tim was hesitant. “I’m not sure if…”

Andrew reassured him: “Sarah wants me to see if I can figure out how we can reduce the contamination period.”

Tim weighed it up for a few moments. Well, he reasoned, the kid is obviously inside the circle: he has the condition. And he—Tim—had been happy enough to share info with Greg, and with Markus. He just—there was something about Andrew that made him uneasy. He shook his head. There was no rational reason for it, though.

“OK. I’ll send you that over. I reckon it might be possible by altering the power—if you reduce the power, you’ll get a smaller radius, and maybe also the contamination will fade quicker.” Tim explained how they had figured out what level of power to use. “It doesn’t seem to affect any subjects who haven’t already got a dose of the treatment in their system. So the danger of doing too much was less than the danger of missing a subject, and failing to activate them. So we gave it more power than would be needed.”

“Does the power make a difference to the effect?”

“Yeah, the higher the degree of power used, the more powerful, obviously, the activation is. It’s almost always going to take effect, but there is a tipping point, below which activation doesn’t hold, and breaks after a while.”

“So you could temporarily activate a subject.”

“It has happened. I don’t see why you’d want to though. I mean, from what we’ve seen, the unactivated condition is quite harmful, and I would imagine to drop someone back into it, having lifted them out of it for a while, might have serious consequences. You’d be basically relieving all that pressure, increasing their libido, and then bottling it up again.”

“Hmm,” said Andrew, appearing to agree. “Food for thought, though, anyway.”

The taxi driver couldn’t quite believe he was going back to check. He’d had people say all sorts of things in his cab when they were drunk, even been propositioned a few times, in lieu of fare; they rarely actually meant it and he’d never taken it seriously. He’d certainly never had a girl tell him to come back and pick her up the next day, and he couldn’t imagine she’d actually follow through, not in a million years. Why on Earth would she? He was on his way to sixty, balding, nowhere near being in shape—too many decades of beer and chips had seen to that. And short of chatting to her about his mate’s vacation, he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary to impress her.

And she had been extremely hot. Beautiful Latin face; long, gorgeous legs; lovely round tits; and a pretty vagina, from what he’d seen in the cab.

There must have been something in the air last night. First that girl, who had masturbated all the way into town, as he’d gradually become aware throughout the trip, and had then proceeded to show him her pussy and make this extraordinary suggestion.

Then the three hotties who blew that geeky-looking kid on the way back to their house, where he was surely going to have had a night to remember. George chuckled. He doubted whether the lad would have been able to walk by the time they’d finished with him. Certainly that redhead—who had flashed her breasts at him—looked like she meant business.

The rest of the night had passed without too much incident. He remembered one other couple, though, a hipster chick and a scally lad, who had flirted like crazy all the way home. George was pretty sure they’d find their way into the same bed before the night was out.

He dropped off a fare at the south end of the city, just before three. The road where he’d picked her up was on his way back into town anyway, so… what would it hurt if he passed that way on his way back to the taxi rank?

“For your tip,” she had said, “Pick me up from the same place tomorrow, at three o’clock in the afternoon.”

He left his Taxi light off, and turned back towards town, and, as luck would have it, the same place.

He mulled it over again. What could she have to gain? He couldn’t think of anything she could be trying to pull. I mean, he thought, Would she be trying to rob me? It’s not like I’m going to be carrying that much money, at three o’clock in the afternoon. Or blackmail? But he was divorced, there was no reason why he shouldn’t have sex with someone who wanted to have sex with him. And he had the CCTV camera in the cab. Is this some kind of reality TV stunt? he wondered.

But that wasn’t the real question. The real question was, Could I possibly turn her down?

And the answer, he knew fine well, was no.

He turned onto the road he’d picked her up on last night. And… there she was. Wearing a long, red coat, which stopped halfway down her beautiful bronze thighs, tied tight around her slim waist, and bulging impressively as it stretched over her large, round breasts. If anything, they seemed more prominent today than they had yesterday—he’d had a good look at that cleavage in the mirror, last night, in the plunging black dress she’d had on. George had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front: Jesus, that girl could cause a serious pile-up.

Here goes nothing, he thought, and pulled up next to her.

She opened the door and got in, giving him a good look at her unreasonable cleavage as she stooped, then sat back in the seat, her legs parted ever so slightly, affording him a teasing glimpse of her inner thighs. “Hi,” she said.

He gulped. “So, er, where am I taking you?”

“In the pussy, first, I hope,” she purred, in her sultry South American accent, “And then in the ass if you like.”

He hardly knew how to react. His cock was unequivocal, though.

“Go down the next sidestreet,” she told him.

He drove. “So, uh, did you have a good night last night?”

She laughed. “It was pretty good, yes. I found some friends. Pull up by the next lamppost. Are you able to take a break?”

All he could manage was “Yeah.”

He stopped. She fished out some keys from her bag. “Coming?” She opened the back door.

He repeated, “Yeah.”

He got out of the taxi; by the time he caught up with her she had the door of a house open. He followed her in, shutting the door behind him, then up the stairs, staring up at her butt. She unlocked a first-floor apartment, and guided him in.

The door opened directly into a lounge. He walked in, and then turned, as the front door clicked shut behind his hostess.

She untied the belt of her coat.

He asked, “So, what’s this all about?”

“I have recently decided,” she replied, calmly, “To play at being a slut.” She undid the top button. “I’ve decided I’m going to go out looking for sex.” As she unfastened the middle button, the coat slipped open, exposing a deep V of her body, down to the belly; hanging on her breasts, but showing the rich, round underboob, and a deep cleavage. There was no bra.

Oh my God, thought George. She’s naked under that coat.

Her fingers fiddled with the last button. She said, “I’ve decided to experiment with my fantasies. And one of my fantasies,” she said, walking up to him, her fingers still on the fastening, “Is the idea of paying in kind. I’ve never paid for things in kind before, but the idea is… sexy.”

Her face was up to his, now. He wasn’t particularly tall, and in her boots—she was wearing some high-heeled boots—she was an inch or so taller than him. “I like the idea of having a taxi driver I could call, to drive me around, whenever I needed a ride, who wouldn’t mind what I got up to in the back. And in exchange for which,” she said, undoing the last button and allowing the coat to fall open, revealing her flat belly, her pussy and the whole of her breasts, whose nipples brushed his chest, “You can fuck me whenever you like.”

George’s mind was stuck in neutral, idling as the meter ticked over.

“I mean,” she continued, kissing him, “We should definitely start at once a week; and,” she added, as one hand slipped inside his jeans, “You can see if you feel that’s—reasonable.” On the last word, her fingers found his cock, and enveloped it, squeezing gently.

“But really,” she told him, “You can have me whenever you want.” Her hands found his belt, and opened it, along with his flies. She dropped to her knees, pushed his trousers down and put the head of his cock in her mouth.

George hardly knew what was going on. He had been single for a few years, after his wife had left him; he hadn’t enjoyed the touch of a woman for longer than that, too. Over that time, he’d more or less come to believe that sex would be something he would experience very rarely, if at all, in the future, and he had certainly never expected to fuck a woman as beautiful, or as young, as Carolina, again. He had fantasised about some of the girls he ferried across town; kids these days were so brazen, and women’s fashions these days seemed to be all about exhibiting their bodies, but as much as they flirted, he always knew it was a game, and whose boundaries he could never overstep.

He looked down at the woman caressing his penis. She was, what, less than half his age? And to be honest, even in his youth, he had never been with anyone who looked as stunning. His cock, which had been unreliable (at best!) the last few years, was responding like it hadn’t done for decades. This situation was completely outside of the reality he had come to know.

She licked his member all over, then took it into her mouth. Still only semi-hard, she was able to swallow all of it, and kept it down as she massaged it to full hardness, her throat in convulsions around him. She gagged, and pulled back; his cock burst out of her mouth, proud and erect. She pushed him back onto the sofa, and steered him sideways, lying on his back on the cushions. She straddled his face, and returned her mouth to his cock and balls.

Her vagina hovered above his face. He had rarely been invited to stare so directly into a woman’s cunt, and this one was exquisite. She lowered it to his mouth, and shoved his cock down her throat. Instinctively, he licked: first tentatively, then more assertively, harder. She ground herself onto his mouth as her head worked on his shaft, with increasing intensity, until she orgasmed, explosively, around him, her thighs clamping around his head.

As her senses returned, she sucked him with renewed focus; she jerked his cock with one hand, while her lips and tongue assaulted the head. It was more than he could take, and he came in her mouth. She continued until everything was out of him, and then sucked him back to hardness. George was astonished that it came back so easily.

She rose, and informed him, “That was just to get us started.”

Rob, Vicky, Dave and Jenny arrived at the club at around ten. They had all made a concerted effort to be productive all day, with varying degrees of success. By the time the evening drew on, all pretence of thinking about anything other than the night that lay ahead had evaporated. Jenny, in particular, predictably, was like a kid on Christmas Eve. Over dinner she announced that she wanted to be blindfolded as soon as they arrived.

“I don’t know what it is,” she said, “But the vulnerability turns me on. And the anonymity. Ever since you tied me down, on the second night, something about the submission, the idea of being… an object, for people to fuck, anyone… everyone…” She shivered. “The idea does something to me. I mean, you tied me down because I asked you to.”

Vicky giggled. “You’re insatiable!”

“Yes. I think I am.”

“It is hot though.” The blonde laughed again. “Oh my gosh. I might have to give that a try myself. Not this time though. I’ll let you take centre stage.”

“There are several stages,” Rob said.

Everyone laughed.

A few hours later, they arrived.

The host, Chris, was a man in his forties, wearing chaps and a leather apron. He greeted them cheerfully, in the reception room inside the front door. “Hi. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“I’ve been before,” Rob said, “A couple of times, years ago.”

“Oh. Well I’m sure you can understand, but the ladies are always much more memorable, to me, than the gentlemen. And,” he said, turning to Vicky and Jenny, “I’m sure I would have remembered either of you two.”

“We’ve never been,” Vicky said, with a grin.

“Well,” Chris told her, “I hope you have fun. Did you bring some alcohol?”

Vicky nodded.

“Well, you can put that behind the bar, and we’ll give you it when you ask for it. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, everything here is done on a principle of consent. This is a greedy girls’ night, which means we let in far more men than women, and some of the women take on a lot of men. Some just watch, or play with their partners, so it’s fine if you’re a little unsure. Just have a look around, and do what comes naturally. Ask first,” Chris told the guys, “And respect the answer.”

“Oh, I’m not unsure,” said Jenny.

“Well, then I hope you have fun,” He replied. “You can wear anything you like in the first room, the bar. At eleven, I will walk around the club banging a gong; after that, if you want to go anywhere beyond the bar, you’ll have to strip down to your lingerie or your underwear. That’s the only degree of participation we insist on.” Everyone agreed, so he got them signed up, and offered to take their coats. Under hers, Vicky was wearing a tight dress; the guys were in shirts and trousers.

Jenny, under her coat, wore only a black thong. Her outrageous breasts jutted out from her chest. The host’s eyes boggled when he saw her body; it was almost a caricature.

“Wow,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“Almost,” Jenny replied. She pulled out a blindfold, a gag and a pair of handcuffs from her bag, and addressed Chris. “I don’t want to have even seen inside the room, and I don’t want to have the opportunity to consent or not consent to anything. By entering this building I consent to anything anyone wants to do to me.”

“Wow,” he repeated.

“Could you help me put these on?” she asked.

He cuffed her arms behind her back. As he was about to put the blindfold on, Jenny said, “And I hope you’ll have a go, when you get the chance.” His smiling eyes were the last thing she saw for several hours.

As she dropped into darkness, he whispered in her ear: “Oh, I will.”

She felt the ball gag at her lips, and opened her mouth to receive it.

“Well,” Chris told the rest of them, “In you go.”

Jenny heard a door open, releasing a wash of music and voices, and then she was led into the sound. The chatter dipped as they crossed a threshold. She heard Vicky introducing herself to someone, and felt clothes brush against her virtually naked body as she was led further into the bar.

“Hi,” she heard a man’s voice say, nearby.

Dave replied, from her shoulder. “Hi. I’m Dave, and this is Jenny. She’d shake your hand, but she can’t, so her ass will have to do.”

After a brief pause, the man’s voice closer, said, “Hi. I’m Steve.” A hand found her buttcheek, and gripped it. “Will you be playing later?”

“Mmmh,” Jenny replied, with a nod.

“I look forwards to it,” the guy said.

Elsewhere, Rob and Vicky had made their way to the bar. Rob handed their wine over, and, as she poured them each a glass, the lady behind the bar said, “I haven’t seen you before.”

“No,” said Vicky. “It’s our first time.”

“Well, my advice to you is, have a look around, you’re not under any pressure to join in, but if you’re tempted… go for it. You’ll enjoy it more if you dive in.”

“Thanks!”

“I’ll second that,” said a woman next to them. “Hi. I’m Helen, and this is my husband, James.”

“Hi. Rob and Vicky,” Vicky replied. “So… do you come here often?”

“This is our first time on a Wednesday. We’ve been a few times before on a Friday or Saturday, when it’s mainly couples, but this is the first time on a greedy girls’ night. I’ve always been curious about a gangbang, so tonight I’m going to… dive in,” she added with a blush.

“And I’ve always wanted to watch her do it,” James said.

They both looked to be in their early-mid forties. James was moderately good-looking; Helen was probably plumper than she had been twenty years ago, but still looked cute. She asked Vicky, “So, you’ve never been here at all?”

“No, never.”

“Maybe you should go have a look around, then. See you later. Especially you,” she added, with a grin at Rob. “If you don’t mind, that is, Vicky.”

“I’m sure he’ll have enough to go round,” she replied. They slipped away from the bar, and headed out the doorway at the far end. Beyond was a large lounge room, that looked like a nightclub, or, maybe, a strip club; with sofas, a dancefloor, and a stage. The room was already lightly populated, with several groups of guys, and the occasional woman, either with a partner, or on their own, surrounded. Most people, here, were still in their outdoor clothes, but some had already changed into towels or lingerie. There was also a staircase. Rob led Vicky up it.

On the first floor, there were a few mirror-lined bedrooms, each containing double beds, and, Vicky was excited to discover, a couple of bondage playrooms, each containing various devices that a person could be strapped to, along with, of course, more sofas and beds. “Jenny will enjoy it up here,” she observed to her boyfriend. They also found a locker room, and dumped their bags.

“Fuck it,” said Rob, “We may as well get changed, since we’re here.” He peeled off his clothes, and put them, along with Vicky’s dress, in the locker. He wrapped a towel around his waist. She looked incredible in the bikini she had worn as underwear; her taut, toned body looked svelte and delicious; her breasts, while still considerably smaller than Jenny’s huge mammaries, had definitely grown into pert, tight, generous handfuls. Her slim frame emphasised this contrast.

The top floor was one large bedroom, with a massive bed in the middle, made up of maybe six double beds pushed together. There was a threesome underway, a blonde girl being spitroasted between two guys; several more men watched, from around the periphery of the room, dressed in towels. A couple of them acknowledged Rob and Vicky, and wandered over: stocky, built-looking guys in their mid-late twenties.

“Hi,” said one of the guys.

“Hi,” Vicky replied. “I’m Vicky, this is Rob.”

The guys shared their names, and they struck up a conversation. They were squaddies, home on leave after being on tour. Vicky played up to that: “Whatever we think about the war,” she said, “I think it’s important to be grateful to the brave guys who are out there risking their lives. I’d love to show you how much we support our boys.”

There was a brief exchange of glances, in which everyone seemed to be asking everyone else, Is this cool? and then Vicky placed her hands on the first man’s crotch, massaging his penis through his towel, feeling it swell in her hands. Rob pushed her onto the huge bed, parted her legs, and, pulling her thong aside, applied his tongue to her pussy. When he looked up, she had one cock in her mouth, and another in her hand. In an echo of the first time he’d come here, with his previous partner, he asked himself whether he was OK with seeing the girl he loved get fucked by strangers. So much water had passed under the bridge since then, though, and there was no doubt in his mind.

Vicky was turned on like almost never before. She alternated between the two cocks, sucking them furiously, until one of them came in her mouth; she swallowed, and the eroticism of the experience, combined with her own supercharged arousal and Rob’s tongue between her legs, pushed her over the edge. She came, groaning and shuddering. And then, as she recovered, scooted back onto the vast bed, and collapsed flat on her back, her legs apart and her knees raised.

“Wow. OK. Who wants to fuck me?”

The other soldier looked at Rob, and in response to his nod, climbed onto the bed and knelt between Vicky’s thighs. He already had a condom in his hand; he rolled it on, and positioned himself, and slid in.

He started gently. Vicky writhed beneath him, then wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on. A hunger came into her expression.

Watching from the side, Rob smiled; he knew that look. It accompanied what seemed like a possession. He knew that she would fuck harder and harder, now, until, when the rolling waves of orgasm became to powerful, she’d lose herself. She often passed out at the end of these epic fucks. Rob wondered what the outcome would be this time.

He was rock hard.

To his side, a female voice purred into his ear, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rob looked round: she was an attractive older woman, probably in her 50s, dressed in a brazenly slutty red bikini. Her body was tight. She glittered with sexuality.

She looked down at his cock. “Here, let me help you with that,” she said, dropping to her knees.

For Jenny, time passed in a blur of whispered hellos, groping hands, intruding fingers. A couple of times, Dave slipped the gag out, and fed her some wine, then gagged her again. Once, he whispered in her ear, “Are you OK?”

She moaned through the gag, and nodded, and ground her crotch against his thigh. A hand, presumably Dave’s, found her soaking pussy, slipped a couple of fingers inside, easily, then withdrew, and gave her mound a little slap.

She bucked back against the bulge pressing against her from behind, and whinnied as more hands grabbed and squeezed her butt and thighs, and breasts.

At some point, she heard the gong. The atmosphere in the room changed; she could feel the bodies thinning, the current shift and start to drag her inwards.

She heard Rob’s voice, say, “Bring her upstairs, she’s going to love it.” Hands led her to, and up, a staircase, grabbing her roughly, urgently now, whenever she stumbled, and propelling her upwards.

She had obviously reached the top of the staircase, because now she was being led along a short hallway, and through a doorway. She was spun around and brought to rest against a padded, waist-high surface. Her cuffs were removed, and her arms enjoyed the brief sensation of liberty as they were lifted out from behind her back, then forwards, and down, as she was bent over the—stool? Block? Vaulting horse?

Padded cuffs were applied to her wrists and ankles, and, as she was stretched forward over the island, her head dropped over the end. For a moment she was completely vulnerable, fixed spread-eagled, her huge breasts mashed down into its—leather? Vinyl?—surface.

Then a cock was shoved unceremoniously into her cunt. She thought she could feel a condom on it. She convulsed, and as it withdrew, and pounded her again, a hand touched her shoulder. Dave whispered into her ear, “This is my hand on your shoulder. I’ll squeeze you, like this,”—he gave her two quick pinches—“from time to time, so you’ll know it’s me.”

Then a hand knotted in her hair, and pulled her head up. The gag was removed, and as it came out, she grunted, “Uh,” and coughed, and then had a cock rammed down her throat.

The cock in her pussy built up speed, slamming away, as the guy in her mouth started to fuck her throat. She was aware that Dave’s hand stayed on her shoulder, stroking it, giving it two sharp squeezes from time to time, as she bucked and moaned. The cock in her mouth came first. She struggled to swallow it all, then suddenly it was gone, rapidly replaced by another. Then the guy behind her pulled out, and a second later a spatter of warm cum sprayed across her back. She felt another cock enter her, and start fucking.

The next time her pussy was empty, she felt Dave’s hand trail down from her shoulder to her hips, as he lined himself up to enter her. As she had done every previous time he’d fucked her, she felt a thrill of anticipation, then the head lined up against her labia, and pushed inside. Forced to concentrate on the sensation, she was aware of the huge size of it; she writhed, straining to accommodate it as it remorselessly ground its way into her. She screamed, gagged by the cock in her mouth, as he drove further in, until eventually his hips touched, then pressed into, her butt cheeks. He rested again, then began to grind in and out of her.

She couldn’t restrain herself any longer, and bubbled over into a froth of orgasms. The cock fucking her throat pulled out suddenly, and her face was hit by several jets of warm, sticky fluid. Then another hand grabbed her hair, and another cock was presented to her lips. She eagerly engulfed it, losing herself in a sea of orgasm.

She resurfaced when she felt Dave pull out, and then after a moment, press the head of his member to her asshole. Slimy with lube, and her own juices, it slipped in. She gasped, and he pushed again. She felt his hand give her hip two quick squeezes, then, still less than half-way inside her, he started fucking, slowly but inexorably. Each time, he pushed a little further in, and each time she convulsed. By the third or fourth time, she was having small orgasms on every stroke.

He worked his way further inside her, and the strokes became faster, harder. She felt incredible, transported to another plane. She braced against, pushed back against each thrust, shuddering with ripples of pleasure that swelled into great waves, crashing through her. After an unmeasurable amount of time, after fucking her ass furiously, the phallus behind her left her butthole. She felt the cuffs on her wrists being unclasped from the restraints, and then hands around her ankles doing the same. She was lifted bodily, and carried, then lowered onto the body of a man. Her trailing hands found a mattress under them. The guy’s cock, a huge one, pushed against her asshole; two quick squeezes of the side of her waist told her it was Dave, still. She relaxed, and her ass accepted the intrusion. Then the weight on the mattress shifted, and she felt another man standing over her.

Oh my God, she realised, They’re going to DP me. They’re going to DP me!

When the tip of a cock pressed against her pussy lips, she orgasmed immediately. “Fuck me,” she pleaded, and then, realising that her mouth was empty, repeated, louder, “Fuck me!”

Abruptly, her head was yanked to the side, and a cock was shoved into her throat. Then the guy in her pussy drove his length deep into her. She came again, and, for a while, lost track of everything. As the cocks rotated between her holes, she lost all count of who, or how many, had fucked her. Her sight denied, her other senses compensated, and she soared through a world of sensation, of fireworks and joy and violence all blended together. Sometimes she was on her back; sometimes her front. Sometimes her wrists were bound, and sometimes they were held. Occasionally, someone would give two quick squeezes to some part of her form: her huge breasts, as they bounced around, or her thigh. She believed it was Dave, although to some extent she forgot who Dave was, or who she was, or where or how, and was only aware that she was immersed in a world of endless fucking, somehow protected by a benevolent aura.

Her crotch was soaked with her own juices. She knew that at least some of the guys fucking her were using condoms: sometimes she could feel them inside her, sometimes they were thrown at her, dismissively, after use. As the night wore on, she was flipped, turned, lifted; fucked standing, between two guys. As well as all the double penetration, they sometimes doubled up, in one hole or the other. Her face, chest and back were soaked with ejaculate. At one point, she was lying on a guy who had his cock in her ass, while another fucked her pussy, one fucked her mouth and another, kneeling, his legs astride her belly, slammed his cock into her cleavage, pressing her massive breasts together with his hands. The channel was slick with sweat and ejaculate; as she lay there, pinioned by four cocks, more come was deposited on her face, neck, chest and tits.

As this was happening, as titfuck-guy started to build up a head of steam, pausing occasionally to spit into her cleavage or slap her breasts, the guy in her cunt came, and pulled out. She hardly noticed the fleeting presence of absence in her vagina before she was penetrated again.

And she loved it, she loved it all. She fucked back into every stroke, threw her head right into every crotch that presented itself, driving their cocks into her throat until she gagged, or until her face mashed into their bellies, her tongue flicking at their balls. And she came. She came in massive rolling waves that merged into each other and overwhelmed her. Sometimes there were valleys filled with little rippling orgasms, before building, beginning another monumental ascent. At times she almost lost consciousness, and seemed to transcend to a higher place. In these moments, her body slackened, but the energy of the fucking didn’t wane. If anything, it intensified, bringing her back out of it, closer to the present. Temporarily. Each time she refocused, she attacked again, throwing herself at whatever penises were nearby, driving herself back towards total immersion in that glorious sensation.

Time passed. Jenny became aware that there was only one guy fucking her, gently, but intensely, grinding his massive cock deep inside her pussy as she lay on her back. Must be Dave. Had to be Dave, nobody else could have had a cock that big.

He noticed her stirring, and gave her two quick squeezes on the shoulder. She responded, lazily driving her pussy back towards his thrusts, and smiling, licking her lips.

His pace quickened, still gentle, but more firm than before. He built to a little crescendo, and then hung, suspended in his own orgasm, as his cock flexed, pushing spurt after spurt of juice into her. She writhed, clamping her muscles around him in her own, soft orgasm, milking every last drop of come out of him. Then she relaxed, sinking back onto the mattress.

Dave asked, “Are you OK?”

She moaned, and smiled, and nodded.

He added, “You’re wonderful,” and inside her, his cock flexed, in emphasis.

His fingers trailed up her face, and she felt his thumbs slip beneath the blindfold. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded slightly; his thumbs pulled the blindfold up, and sight was returned to her, almost blindingly bright, glorious, for a second, until her eyes recovered.

Dave’s face was above hers. Their eyes met. He smiled, and she laughed.

“Wow,” she said.

He just nodded, and then, gently, slid his softer, but still massive, cock out of her, triggering another little flurry of convulsions.

“Would you like a shower?”

She nodded, and he helped her stand. He guided her to the bathroom, where she looked at herself in the mirror: her makeup had streaked down her face, mixed with the come smeared all over her. It ran down her neck, her chest, all over and between her tits, down her belly and onto her legs. Her pussy was streaming with come: quite possibly, she thought, all Dave’s. She’d have to ask about that.

She jumped in the shower, and washed herself quickly. She had become aware, as consciousness had returned to her, that the house was quite quiet, and she hadn’t seen or heard anyone else as they made their way to the bathroom. She guessed that the host had to lock up and go home at some point, and so even in her post-apocalyptic bliss she hurried, out of consideration. Having stepped out and dried herself, she opened the bathroom door. Dave was waiting outside. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her, and she responded passionately, before breaking the kiss.

“Mmmm,” she said, licking her lips mischievously, “Pussy.” She kissed him again, sucking his lips between hers, before pulling away, to say, “And not mine, I don’t think. You’ll have to tell me all about it, later on.”

In the locker room, Dave had a bag with some clothes for both of them. They dressed: comfortable clothes. There was another couple in there, dressing; Jenny wondered whether she’d fucked the guy, a middle-aged pot bellied balding man. She smiled.

Downstairs in the bar, Rob and Vicky were waiting, showered and presentable, but still, in her case, anyway, sexy. She had even taken the time to sort out her makeup, Jenny noted.

On seeing her, Vicky jumped up, and ran over and hugged her. “Hey! How are you?”

Jenny gave a throaty laugh, and said, “So good.”

Chris, the host, called over to them, “Your taxi’s here.”

As they left, Jenny asked Chris, “Did you…?”

He replied, “Oh yes. Several times.”

Outside, a black cab was waiting. They all bundled in, and as it drove off, Jenny fell asleep more or less immediately.