The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A GIRL CALLED SEAGULL: CHAPTER 7

‘Get a photo of her with the remote inside her,’ one of the men said hungrily, stroking his hard cock.

I could feel my body bruising around the TV remote, my body fighting it, but it was wedged firmly inside me, an alien penetration reminding me just how low I had fallen. The men all took photos, laughing and sending them to Mr Arden, and I cried with humiliation. The man whose dick was inside my butt kept groping my breasts. He was treating them like toys to massage and squeeze, emphasising all over again how Mr Arden had made them larger, the full globes making me feel even less like myself and even more like a sex toy.

Finally, the men pulled the remote out of me, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared as two of them lined their shafts up, large grins on their faces.

‘We’re going to split you open, darling’, one of them said. ‘But you like sex. You said so yourself. If a slut like you begs for sex, this is what she gets.’

‘Yeah,’ said the other one, a mean look on his face. ‘This is the only way to keep hungry sluts like you in line.’

I wanted to beg them, please no, but I wasn’t allowed to say words, only the phrases and sounds that Mr Arden had given me. The fourth man who was lining himself up to fuck my mouth chuckled. He stroked his hard dick rapturously, while his free hand ran along my torso.

‘I’d say the bitch won’t be making that mistake again,’ he said, sniggering. ‘Except tomorrow she’ll be in Mr Arden’s office, and we will do all over this, all over again. And again, and again.’

‘I love post-board meeting fucks,’ said one of the men in the background, I couldn’t see who it was. ‘It’s the only thing that makes the damn meetings bearable. I sit through the incessant junior reports, thinking about what I’ll do to the fucktoy today when she’s beneath me.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ said another man. ‘I’ve got some fun toys I want to try on this slut. She doesn’t look very bright, but I think she’ll get scared when she sees them anyway.’

I wanted to tell them that I didn’t need terrifying toys to be scared but I couldn’t talk.

The two men kneeling between my legs were leaning over me, lowering their hips, and they started to push their cocks at my entrance. I thought I would faint in fear — their hands were hot on my skin and their dicks felt hard and slippery and invasive, poking and prodding at me carelessly, hungrily.

I actually didn’t think they would get inside me at first. They kept taking turns to thrust into my entrance and I was so tight, I had no idea how they would both get into me. I was wailing anyway, in shock and fear. I had never had more than one dick inside me at a time before today. I had never even thought of having more than one man at a time.

The man buried inside my arse was huge and stiff, and he writhed his hips languorously up into me, not so much grinding into me as simply enjoying the feeling of my unwilling, lubricated hole around him.

But the men between my legs knew what they were doing. They kept thrusting into me, taking turns, until I thought I would faint at the incessant violation, at the constant feeling of their hard, slippery heads rubbing past and stretching my entrance. I was moaning uncontrollably when I realised that their rhythm had changed — instead of taking turns, they were thrusting closer together, forcing me wide, and I was opening up for them.

I screamed. It was too much. Even with the mind control, I tried mindlessly to pull away, to get away from the brutal penetration between my legs, but held tightly as I was, I had no choice.

My sensitive entrance stretched, protesting, and then it stretched wider as first one thick head and then the second forced its way into me. I felt so invaded and vulnerable as I felt both the cocks ramming into me. I thought I was going to break in half, and then they started thrusting deeper, each using powerful leverage to drive himself into me.

I was crying and screaming, tears running down my face. My cunt felt broken, sensitive and raw, I felt as though their hard dicks were ramming right into my womb as they took turns to grind deeply into me. The man behind me started to hammer his shaft up into my anus as well, his hands gripping my breasts cruelly from behind, bruising me.

I wanted to scream, but then I had to start squawking, horrifically, in time with their multiple, competing thrusts. I was choking and squawking like a demented seagull, not knowing which was worse — the humiliation of the noises I was forced to make, or the three hard, hungry dicks grinding into me again and again.

These men were horrible. I knew they were enjoying my distress, and I knew the more distressed I seemed, the harder each of them would get.

‘Stupid bitch,’ one of them said, groaning as sweat poured off his thick torso. ‘Why does she think she has holes?’

‘They are stupid,’ said the man positioning himself at my mouth cheerfully. ‘If they were smart, Mr Arden wouldn’t be able to do his circus tricks, would he?’

I flushed in humiliation, but I didn’t have any time to really focus on his words, as the man started to feed his cock into my open, squawking mouth.

Everything after that was sheer hell. The three men buried inside my groin kept battering at me, none of them caring if I hurt or disliked the experience of them brutally raping me. The man inside my mouth thrust himself almost immediately at the back of my throat and I gasped as I almost gagged.

‘That’s right, darling,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m going into your throat. Relax and let me in, and it’ll be better for you.’

I couldn’t relax, of course. I was squawking and choking in time with all four men’s thrusts into me, tears running down my face. I was orgasming too. The first couple of orgasms had been light and far apart, but now that I had four men inside me, the fifty thrusts happened all too frequently. Each time I came around the cocks inside my cunt, I felt all over again how wide open I was wedged.

The man in mouth started to jab himself viciously against my throat, and I gagged again and again, terrified I would throw up. Of course, I had to keep making the humiliating seagull noises, over and over again. I thought the torture would never cease, and then I felt the man’s slippery shaft sliding right into my throat, past my gag reflex, coming to rest in my throat like a stiff intruder.

He gasped with laughter as I tried to scream and make seagull noises past his cock but I couldn’t.

‘This is how to quieten the bitch,’ he said, grabbing my head and thrusting himself deeper into me.

I was screaming wordlessly, unable to believe the hell I had stumbled into. I kept cumming, again and again, unable to keep count of the men’s thrusts into me. All I knew was their hot, sweaty bodies against and inside mine, their gasping breathing and hungry moans. I tried to think and I realised I had forgotten everything — my name or who I was or what I was doing on this bed.

As they each sped up, each man seeking his orgasm inside me, I floated, I became an empty shell — no longer the woman I had been when I entered Mr Arden’s office this morning but simply a mass of terrified nerve endings, orgasming over and over again in time with my programming.

It ended eventually, the men cumming inside me in turn, and then they all collapsed on the bed, their bodies heavy as they lay on top of and around me.

One after the other, recovering from their orgasms, the men rolled away and stood up, leaving me lying on the bed.

Stupidly, I thought I might get some rest.

But one of them snapped his fingers at me, as I lay there blearily watching them, wondering why such cruel men had to exist in this world. He pulled a robe around himself, reaching down to grab a mouthful of his drink.

‘Get on your back, bitch,’ he said. ‘Do as Mr Arden programmed you.’

Just like that, I rolled onto my back, spreading my legs and I started to hump my hips, feeling dazed but knowing that I had to obey. ‘I am aroused now,’ I said, starting to repeat the phrase over and again like a mechanical toy, my voice hoarse, my throat hurting from the man who had used me so brutally there.

I was so spacey that their laughter seemed to come from a long way away.

I had no hopes left or I might have hoped that the evening’s torture was over. It wasn’t, of course. They had each only fucked me once, and even though I was exhausted, there were eight of them and there was nothing they enjoyed more than fucking a girl who couldn’t resist them.

They abandoned the running sheet, and using me became a free for all. Whoever wanted a free hole could have it, whoever wanted to grope a part of my body that another man wasn’t currently groping could also do so. They fucked me over and over again, while my senses spun, and my broken body orgasmed again and again, with sharp flashes of heat and lighting through my increasingly aching flesh.

‘Fuck, she’s a mess,’ one of them said once, his voice seeming to come from a long way away. I could recognise the sound of self-congratulation in his voice though.

‘Mr Arden likes them to be ridden hard on their first night,’ said another man. ‘It cements the training.’

‘I love how the bitches go through life pretending to be human,’ laughed one of the men, pouring himself a glass of wine. ‘And all it takes is a few hours in the hands of their masters to show the truth.’

They started to fuck me again after that, and my voice grew hoarse from the seagull noises. Eventually, of course, they got sick of the sounds I made.

‘Shut the bitch up, would you?’ one of them said, as he pounded into me from behind. I didn’t know who it wasn’t. I had forgotten everything, I couldn’t remember any of their names any more. ‘I’m sick of those stupid sounds.’

As only Mr Arden could stop me making the sounds, they stuffed balled up handkerchiefs into my mouth before tying a rough gag around my mouth. I kept squawking but the sound was reduced to a faint squeak.

‘That’s better,’ said the man inside me. ‘It was fun at first but it sure does grate after a while.’

I flushed with humiliation as tears ran down my face. Mr Arden had created me like this for them, dammit, and they didn’t even want me like this any more. They kept fucking me of course, and I found their words going around and around in my head, in time with their rough use of me.

Mr Arden likes them to be ridden hard on the first night.

Why does she think she has holes?

They are stupid. If they were smart, Mr Arden wouldn’t be able to do his circus tricks, would he?

I wanted to feel angry that I had been turned into a circus trick, that I had been forced to be this thing that the men could over and over again, carelessly, roughly, brutally. But all I could feel was the constant penetration, the men’s grunting voices and shuddering ecstasy, and the orgasms that split through me at intervals that I couldn’t even guess any more.

I heard the town hall clock, only a block away in the city square, striking midnight. The men’s use of me had slowed but it was still going. I was fading though. I felt myself drifting into an uneasy sleep, a man still grinding away on top of me, inside me, his breath hot on my face.