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From: Shakes Peer2B <shakes-peer2b@sbcglobal.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} A House in the Woods - Molly, The First Time (M/F, toys, size, fist, best, oral, anal)
Date: Thu, 10 Jul 2003 04:10:07 -0400
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This is number five of the House in the Woods stories.  This one tells 
about Molly Pierce and the visit that started it all (first referenced 
in "A House in the Woods - Bethany").

FEEDBACK is what I write for, not money, so please tell me what you 
think!  If you like it, I want to know. If you don't, help me make the 
next ones better!
________________________________
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If 
you're not both of those, don't read it.  Characters in a FANTASY don't 
get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't 
use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't 
live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional characters in my stories 
are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what 
they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, 
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the 
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, 
since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You 
can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but 
if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.

_________________________________
A House in the Woods - Molly, The First Time (M/F, toys, size, fist, 
best, oral, anal)
(C)Copyright 2003 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes-peer2b@sbcglobal.net

I had just pulled out of the dirt track that serves me as a driveway, 
intending to go into town, when a reflection of sunlight off of unmoving 
glass, glimpsed through the woods in the other direction, caused me to 
turn that way.  I could think of no reason for that reflection unless 
someone was parked, trespassing on my property, or someone was in 
trouble.  In either case I wanted to check it out.

I had just eased around the curve when I spotted a yellow Honda pulled 
off the side of road. An athletic-looking girl with fiery red hair was 
kicking it, repeatedly.

In these hills, you don't leave anyone stranded, since it's miles to 
anywhere, and there are still carnivorous predators that prowl the 
woods, so I pulled in front of the little car and got out to see if I 
could help.

As I approached the car, the red-head, who still had up a good head of 
steam, turned to glare at me.

"Just look at this piece of shit!" she yelled, "My dad just bought it 
for me last weekend, and now the son-of-a-bitch won't even turn over!"

"Miss." I said, quietly. When she ignored me and went back to kicking 
the tires, I said it a little louder, putting some sharpness in my 
voice, "Miss!"

She still ignored me, continuing to kick the tires, as if it were their 
fault.

I said nothing more, just turned and walked back to my truck. I made a 
U-turn and headed back toward town. As I passed her, she yelled, "Hey! 
Wait! Aren't you going to help me!?"

I slowed and said out the window, "Not if you're going to continue being 
rude to me and acting like a maniac."

She had to trot alongside my driver's door to keep talking. "I'm sorry! 
Please! I was just mad! Please help me!"

I stopped the pickup and said quietly, "I can understand your being 
angry. That's no excuse for taking it out on the stranger who stopped to 
help, and it does no good to keep kicking a part of the car that, from 
all appearances, still works!"

She threw up her hands in frustration, "Are you going to help me, or 
lecture me on manners?!"

I looked around to call her attention to her surroundings, before 
replying, "Since I seem to be the only help you're likely to get for a 
while, I'm going to lecture you first, then, when you're sane again, 
I'll help you."

She, too, looked around, and seemed to realize for the first time just 
how isolated this stretch of road was. Her shoulders slumped and she 
seemed suddenly tired. "Geez, Mister, I'm really sorry! It's been a 
really bad day, but you're right, I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

I smiled, put the truck in reverse, and backed it onto the shoulder 
across the road from the little yellow compact.  I got out and walked 
across to where she had just arrived back at her car, holding out my hand.

"Mike Brenneman, Miss?..."

"Molly, Molly Pierce!" She blushed very nicely under a healthy 
spattering of freckles as she shook my hand with a good, firm grip.

"Hi, Molly!" I grinned, "nice to finally meet you!  Do me a favor and 
pop the hood, will you?"

I could already smell burned wiring insulation, and sure enough, when 
she opened the hood, the primary battery cable had shorted out against 
the body of the vehicle because somebody having a bad day at the factory 
routed it wrong.  I was surprised it took this long to wear through the 
insulation.

I closed the hood and retrieved my cell phone.  Frank answered on the 
second ring.

"Frank's Garage!"

"Hey, Frank. It's Mike Brenneman."

"Oh, yeah! The new guy! Hey how, ya doin'!" Frank had been to my house 
to play poker many times, and still called me 'the new guy'. Probably 
would, until some other 'new guy' came along.

"I'm doing all right, Frank, but I've got a young lady here that's got a 
problem."

"Always willin' to help out the young ladies, New Guy, what's she look 
like?"

"Well, she's about five-six or -seven. Fiery red hair," I motioned to 
Molly to wait, as I could see her temper cranking up again, "and enough 
muscles to kick your ass up between your shoulder blades, you old letch!"

"Hmmmm," Frank replied, "Sounds like just my type, but I reckon if I 
come home with any more bruises, the Missus'll put me in the hospital! 
So how can I help the poor young thing?"

"I just took a quick look, but it looks like the battery cable and part 
of the wiring harness are fried on her new Civic."

"Wall, I c'n bring the tow around and get 'er off the road, but a repair 
like that'll have to go to a dealer, either in Spokane or mebbe Seattle. 
  Can't get loose to haul it that far 'til early next week. Don't s'pose 
she's got Triple-A, does she?"

"Hold on!" I held out the phone and spoke to Molly where Frank could 
hear the exchange. "Your car needs to go to the dealer in Spokane or 
perhaps Seattle, and Frank can't take it that far 'til next week. Do you 
happen to have Triple-A or some other roadside assistance program?"

She nodded, "Yeah, my Dad got me a roadside assistance plan, hang on..." 
she reached into the front seat and started rummaging through her purse, 
pulling out a wallet. The card she extracted had an 800 number on it.

"Do you have a phone, Molly?" I asked.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "but it doesn't work out here."

"Hang on, Frank, I'll call you back."

I dialed the number on her card and let her talk to the person on the 
other end.

"Yeah, but...Uh, huh. Uh, huh." I could see her getting frustrated as 
she talked, "That long? But I can't wait out here that long! Hang on! 
Uh, huh, yeah, just hang on for a second, OK?"

She put her hand over the phone and said "They can't get a tow truck out 
here 'til next week, either.  It's free, but they don't usually have to 
go this far.  They'll tow it into Seattle, to the dealer where Daddy 
bought it, but I don't even know where I am, much less how I'm going to 
get home or where I'll stay tonight."

I wrote my land line number on an old business card that Frank had given 
me and I had stuck in my billfold.  "Ok, tell them to pick it up at 
Frank's Garage..."

I finally had to get on the phone and give the person on the other end 
of the line directions on how to get to town. When we had that 
straightened out, I called Frank back and told him to come get the car, 
and bill me for the tow, then I handed the card and the phone back to Molly.

"There's an old hotel in town, Molly, but if you'd like, my place is 
just up the road, and you're welcome to spend the night in my guest 
room.  Tomorrow, I'll see that you get wherever you need to be. In any 
case, you should call whoever's expecting you, and let them know what's 
going on.  That's my number in case you or they need to contact me, and 
the other side is Frank's card."

She looked at me speculatively for a bit. "If I stay with you, you won't 
try to rape me or anything, will you?"

I grinned lasciviously at her, waggling my eyebrows like Groucho Marx, 
while tapping the ashes off an imaginary cigar, "Only if you want me to!"

She laughed and said, "Well, I don't want you to!"

I turned serious again. "Molly, it's a hard thing to trust a stranger, 
though in these parts we sometimes have to.  I'll see to it that you're 
put up safely in the hotel, if that's what you want, but I would greatly 
appreciate the pleasure of your company at my table this evening. I was 
planning smoked salmon, a salad, and home-made apple pie a la mode!"

"That sounds delicious!" she beamed "Ok! Let me just call my Dad and let 
him know where I am!"

I wandered away to keep from eavesdropping on her conversation, and when 
she punched the 'End' button, she was looking upset again.

"Daddy has to go to Europe tonight! I've got my whole spring break ahead 
of me, and I'm just going to spend it sitting alone at home, talking to 
mechanics and people who want to tell me it was my fault that the car 
broke down!"

I helped her get her duffle out of the Civic, and followed her to my 
pickup, taking time to study her for the first time.  She wore her wavy 
red hair in a ponytail that looked as though it might shake out to about 
shoulder length.  Her clothing consisted of a pair of short cotton gym 
shorts and a T-shirt that hung straight down from the shelf of her 
prominent, but not overly large tits.  Both garments bore the WSU 
Athletic Department logo.  The shirt was cut short, showing a bare 
midriff that, though it seemed a bit thick, was flat and smooth and 
unadorned with navel jewelry.  Her legs were muscular trunks covered in 
smooth tanned and freckled skin, through which the outlines of her 
muscles played as she walked.

Her face was pretty, and well covered with freckles. What little makeup 
she wore seemed only to highlight the natural colors of her facial 
features. She had strong cheekbones, straight, slightly pointed nose 
beneath clear grey eyes, and a wide mouth surrounded by delicate, narrow 
lips.

On the short drive to the house, I learned that Molly had decided to 
take the scenic route home from Pullman, and had gotten lost.  As she 
tried to find her way back to the highway, the car broke down, leaving 
her where I found her.

Apparently, smoked Salmon was a favorite of Molly's, because she went 
through three helpings, two salads, and still had room for a huge slice 
of pie topped with a generous scoop of homemade ice cream (I used the 
electric ice cream freezer this time, though I really get better results 
hand cranking it).

I offered her a drink, and she accepted a snifter of brandy.  This was 
an eighty dollar bottle that I had left over from a recent trip to the 
Domaine Chandon winery in Napa, California, and though it wasn't their 
top of the line, I liked it more than some of the better French cognacs.

With the brandy warming in our palms, I guided her into the living room 
and used the remote to start some soft jazz CDs.  I sat on the sofa and 
Molly curled up in the chair opposite. We talked about school and 
sports, and she told me all about her role on the soccer team, and how 
she hoped to be the next Mia Hamm.

"Not Brandy?" I asked, to see if it would get a rise out of her.

"No, Brandy Chastain is a good player," she replied confidently, "but 
she doesn't have Mia's heart.  Mia just won't stop for anything!"

We talked soccer for a while, but my knowledge of women's soccer was not 
up to a lengthy discussion with someone who lived for it, and we moved 
on to other things.  As the level of brandy in Molly's glass dropped, 
the conversation turned to boys, then started skirting around the edges 
of sex.  Suddenly, Molly was crying.  She had gone from comfortable, 
sociable guest, to full-weep basket case almost between words.

I didn't think we were close enough yet that she'd take comfort in my 
embrace, so I just waited silently for the tears to work themselves out.

Eventually, the sobs diminished and I handed Molly my handkerchief to 
wipe her face.

She drained the last of the brandy and said, "I'm so sorry, Mr. 
Brenneman! I don't know what came over me!" after a pause, she shook her 
head and said, "No, that's not right. I know what came over me, but it's 
not your problem, so I don't need to bother you with it."

"Why don't you try me? You might be surprised what I can help with. If I 
can't help, it might be helpful to you to get it off your chest."

She looked at me through red, tear-stained eyes, but shook her head. 
"No, it's something I was born with, nobody can change that!"

Considering the topic of conversation just before she broke down, I 
played a hunch. "Does this have something to do with sex?"

She looked at me again, and gave a feeble nod.

I rolled the dice again and asked, "So something that you were born with 
interferes with your ability to have, or to enjoy sex?"

She nodded again, a bit more vigorously, while dabbing at her eyes.

"Molly," I said, and waited for her to look at me, "it just so happens 
that I have a great deal of experience with sex and sexual matters.  Why 
don't you tell me about your problem, and even if I can't help, I might 
know someone who can?  At the very least, I'm less likely to be shocked 
by anything you have to tell me than most."

She looked at me for a long moment, then, in the midst of shaking her 
head, suddenly sobbed, "I'm too BIG!"

I thought about that one for a moment. She obviously wasn't talking 
about her body, and her breasts, though of good size, were not likely to 
be the source of such anguish.  That left only a few possibilities. I 
chose the one I thought to be most likely.

"Do you mean that your vagina is too large for you to enjoy sex?"

She pointed at me, nodded, then burst out in fresh spate of weeping. "My 
ex-boyfriend said I was CAVERNOUS - that he couldn't even feel me when 
he was inside!"

"Well, I'd say that makes him a good candidate for an EX-boyfriend!" I 
said, and got a tiny smile in return.  "Look, Molly.  There are any 
number of ways to look at this. If your ex wasn't a real needle dick, 
and just saying that to compensate for his own shortcomings?" at her 
headshake I continued, "then you just have to think about finding ways 
to engage in sex that allow you to get the kind of enjoyment out of it 
that you deserve."

She looked a little less desperate when she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," I tried to strike just the right note of seriousness and 
lightheartedness, "have you tried anal sex? Most anybody, even a needle 
dick, would have trouble complaining about the tightness of that opening."

"Oh, yeah," she nodded, "that's great for the guys, and I don't really 
mind it, but it doesn't get ME off!"

"Oral sex?"

"Mmmmmm!" she licked her lips, "Love it, but guys want to fuck, once the 
blowjob's over!"

I lowered the pitch of my voice when I replied, "Not all guys - not 
every time..."

Molly's eyes went wide and she shifted in her seat. "You mean - you?"

It was my turn to nod, "Me, among others."

She put a finger to her mouth, thinking. I took the opportunity to 
splash some more brandy into our glasses. Molly took a sip and inhaled 
some of the fumes from the snifter.

"This is good stuff!" she held out her hand for the bottle and took a 
moment to examine the label. "I thought they made champagne?!"

I nodded, "Yeah, their parent company in France makes 'em call it 
'sparkling wine' since it doesn't come from the Champagne region, but a 
few years back, they started selling this stuff in limited quantities, 
and it kind of caught on."

I swirled the amber liquid around the walls of the snifter, watching the 
little rivulets run down the glass, then turned it up and took a small 
mouthful, swishing it around to savor the flavors, then inhaling over 
the puddle of alcohol it formed on my tongue.  The vapors filled my 
lungs as I swallowed the liquid.

"Molly," I looked again into the glass as I spoke, "if you will put 
yourself into my hands for a few hours, I think I can show you some ways 
to enjoy and to understand how special your unique..." I paused to 
search for the right word, "...attribute is."

I raised my eyes and met her gaze. Through her eyes, I could see the 
turmoil that seethed within her. Could she trust me? Was I some sort of 
crazed sex maniac? Would I help her or hurt her? She really wanted help, 
but how could she take it from a man she'd just met?

To help her decide, one way or another, I got up and beckoned her to 
follow. This was a gamble, but somehow I thought (or perhaps hoped 
really strongly) that it would sway her in the direction I wanted her to go.

"I'm going to show you why I say I am experienced in sexual matters. 
You may find this shocking, but try to keep an open mind, ok?"

I led her into the pantry and triggered the remote to open the hidden 
door to my dungeon.  So she wouldn't feel trapped, I preceded her down 
the stairs, and as she followed me, thinking hard about each step she 
took, I turned on the lights.

"Oh my GOD!" one hand flew to her mouth, the other to her chest, but she 
didn't run.

I spread my arms and turned, presenting my wicked little world for her 
enjoyment "Down here," I pronounced, "I have just about everything 
needed to produce sexual pleasure for just about anyone in the world. 
Turn your will over to me for twelve hours. Let me control your life for 
half a day, and I'll show you ways to enjoy your gift that you never 
dreamed possible."

Her troubled emotions boiled over. "Gift!" she said ironically, "More 
like 'curse'!". She clutched at the pit of her stomach and put her hand 
over her mouth. "I-I'm afraid."

I nodded, "You should be. You don't know me. This is all very new, and 
many of these things can be dangerous, even fatal if improperly used. 
That's why I don't want you to decide tonight.  Get a good night's 
sleep, think it over, and I'll await your decision in the morning."

As I spoke, two large, furred, grey shadows slipped into the dungeon and 
sniffed at Molly, analyzing her scent. When Caesar's pointed red shaft 
began to emerge from his sheath, I knew she was aroused as well as 
frightened. I motioned the dogs to sit and introduced them to Molly, 
who, thankfully, hadn't shown any fear at their presence.

"Molly, the horny fellow on my right is Caesar.  The more polite 
gentleman on my left is Czar." I waved a hand at each in turn, "Their 
mother was a Malamute who was bred by a Timber Wolf.  These two boys, 
besides being an integral part of my life and my security system, are 
also chick magnets - all the ladies love them."

I didn't think it quite the right time to tell her what the ladies loved 
about them, as she knelt and extended a hand for each to sniff. They did 
so dutifully, and even suffered her to scratch them behind the ears and 
around their collars.  The boys aren't much for being handled, but they 
love young ladies.

I ushered them all back upstairs and showed Molly the guest room and 
bath, bidding her good night.

I was up early and had breakfast ready by the time Molly had finished 
her morning ablutions and appeared in the kitchen wearing a starched 
white shirt and shorts tennis oufit that nicely complemented her hair, 
which, unfettered, shone brightly as it swirled about her shoulders.

We ate in silence. I had my usual hearty breakfast, while Molly made do 
with a couple of slices of melon and a piece of dry toast.

She sat silent as I cleared the table, but when I held out my hand and 
led her to the dungeon, she followed docilely.

At the top of the stairs, I stopped and, looking into her eyes, I said 
"If you follow me down these stairs, you agree to give me control of 
your body for the next twelve hours.  In return, while I won't promise 
that you won't feel any pain, I pledge that you will suffer no physical 
injury.  I also promise that when you emerge from here, you will be a 
very different person, and there will be no going back!"

Without waiting for a reply, I descended the stairs and started making 
preparations.  I knew she had already decided, from the look in her 
eyes, but still had some issues to work through.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the dogs, who knew what kinds of 
things went on in this room and had preceded me down the stairs, pricked 
up their ears.  A few moments later, Molly's white clad feet hesitantly 
appeared.  It took her forever to make it down the stairs, and she was 
trembling when she reached the bottom.  As she stood indecisively on the 
last step, I walked over and once again browsed through the emotions 
displayed within her eyes.

"Before you take that final step," I said evenly, but not harshly, "I 
want you to remove all of your clothing, including undergarments and 
shoes, as a sign that you understand into what kind of agreement you're 
entering. You may place your clothes on this table, and join me over there."

I pointed to the bench where I had been setting things up for her arrival.

I didn't wait to see if she complied, but returned to my preparations, 
my back toward Molly.

I could tell from the rustle of clothing behind me, and the dogs' 
increasing agitation, that she was doing as I had asked. I heard a small 
gasp as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor of the dungeon, and 
covered my preparations with a black velvet cloth.

When I felt her warmth radiating just a few inches from my bare arm, I 
flung back the covering fabric and waved my hand over the items on the 
bench like a salesman offering beads to the natives.

"Choose!" I said.

Molly stared as if hypnotized by the array of plastic phalluses before 
her, giving a small gasp, more at the suddenness of my movement than 
anything else.

"Choose?" she whispered.

I nodded. "The dildo you pick will be your first fuck of the day, so 
choose wisely.  Pick one that will be big enough and of the right shape 
to satisfy you, but not one so large as to injure you, since you won't 
be given time to adjust."

"Oh my!" she breathed, and her hand extended to hover over the objects 
on the bench.

She caressed one or two, as if to feel their shape, picked one up but 
returned it to it's place and picked up the one to its right, holding it 
out to me as if it were made of glass.

"This one!" her breath was coming in short, quick gasps and I was afraid 
she'd hyperventilate.

I took the thick twelve inch monster from her, noting that she had 
chosen one whose diameter varied randomly along its length, making for a 
bumpy ride for its recipient.  Without comment, I took her hand, as if 
leading her to the dance floor, and guided her to a fixture that was 
reminiscent of a weight bench, taking the opportunity to enjoy her naked 
form for the first time.

Her breasts were about a 'C' cup, with large, puffy, pale aureolae that 
camouflaged flat pink nipples and rounded off the tips of her pallid 
mounds. Her tanned, freckled stomach and thighs sharply outlined the 
white band of flesh that started just above her hip bones and ended 
about a quarter of the way down her thighs - clearly a soccer tan, 
rather than one got by lying in the sun in a bikini.  The pale skin of 
her lower belly curved softly down the 'Y' of her pelvis to an unruly 
thatch of orange-red pubic hair.  The muscular trunks of her legs were 
topped by well muscled buttocks that displayed no jiggle as she walked.

I had her lie on her back, and her breath quickened even more when I 
stretched her arms over her head and bound them with padded cuffs, 
kissing her lightly on the lips as I did so. I placed her feet in the 
stirrups atop arms that, on a weight bench, would support a barbell. 
When I fastened them in place, she lay on her back with arms extended 
above her head, legs raised and spread, with her feet just above and 
outside her shoulders, leaving her pelvis vulnerable and available for 
my manipulation.

Her red oulined vulva were glistening with moisture, but I lubed the 
rubber cock anyway, just to be safe, before attaching it to the 
hydraulic ram positioned between her legs.  Molly watched in 
consternation as I adjusted the tip of her chosen weapon at the opening 
of her now dripping vagina.

"Your body is excited about what you see happening to you, Molly." I 
whispered in her ear, "but your mind is afraid. Does your fear feed your 
arousal?"

At her moan, I reached over and pinched both nipples to erection, 
finally causing them to stand out from her now smaller, darker aureolae. 
I triggered the pre-programmed sequence of the fuck machine.

Slowly, the ram extended, easily parting the lips of her vagina and 
meeting little resistance as it journeyed inward, accompanied by the 
moans of a woman whose passage was being stretched, though not 
painfully, perhaps for the first time.

With three or four inches of the phallus remaining outside her body, the 
strain guage stopped its inward progress. Molly's face was screwed up in 
concentration as her body adjusted to the fullness, but already her hips 
were grinding slowly against the intuder.

After a rest of several seconds, the ram withdrew as slowly as it 
entered, until just the bulbous head of the artificial penis was still 
embedded.  Without pause, it started inward again.  This time, it went 
in just a fraction further, and didn't pause as long before returning. 
The speed increased gradually, and soon, Molly and the machine were 
humping vigorously at each other, eventually burying another inch and a 
half or so of the plastic member.

Her nipples were still hard, so I took the opportunity to capture them 
in a pair of clamps whose weaker springs were designed to increase the 
sensation rather than cause pain.

Molly's moans filled the dungeon and I could hear the mechanical mounts 
on the fucking machine creaking and groaning as her muscular pelvis 
rotated around the shaft. The phallus had bottomed out with at least two 
inches remaining unbaptized.

I stopped the ram and withdrew it, over Molly's fevered protest. To 
protect the machine, I  threw a sturdy, padded leather strap over her 
hips, and bound them to the table. Then I leaned over my panting guest 
and whispered, "You need to take the rest of it.  I've got just the 
thing to help with that."

I took a long, slender instrument from a bench nearby and after lubing 
it, inserted it into Molly's gaping cavern.  I don't think she felt a 
thing until its round, tapered tip bumped against the end of her cervix. 
Feeling my way, I carefully moved the tip around inside her until I 
located the indentation in the center of the tight ring of muscle at the 
entrance to her womb.  Slowly, I increased the pressure until the 
tapered end parted the opening and slipped inside, as Molly groaned and 
squirmed under the strap.

"What are you doing!?" she asked, not sure whether it hurt or just felt 
strange.

"This is a little device I designed to open up your cervix." I smiled, 
"Since most phalluses that are large enough to please you are also quite 
long, you need to be able to take them deep. I think you'll find that 
will enhance your pleasure, as well."

While I was talking, her hips had started involuntarily trying to grind 
against the instrument.

When the device had penetrated far enough into Molly's womb, I withdrew 
the outer sleeve that covered the overlapping splines, each of which 
were attached along one edge to the elongated rubber bladder running 
through the center of the instrument.

Attaching the tube from a sphygmomanometer bulb (you know, the bulb from 
a blood pressure cuff) to the nipple in the exposed end of the cervix 
spreader, I started pumping.

Molly's eyes grew enormous and her breath started coming in small gasps 
once more as the bladder, constrained along the length of the device by 
the splines and the constriction of her cervix, grew in diameter.  The 
flat splines slid over each other as it expanded, to form an enlarging 
cylinder.

With the cylinder fully expanded, I left it in place for a while and 
leaned over to lick at Molly's sheathed clitoris. This brought a 
different sort of gasp from her, so I continued, laving the top and 
sides of the smooth ridge of flesh with long, gentle strokes that had 
her cooing and trying to rotate her hips within the confines of the strap.

Occasionally I would concentrate on the bottom end of the sheath, 
rapidly vibrating my tongue back and forth, before resuming the longer 
strokes.

Within five minutes, Molly was on the verge of orgasm, and I pulled 
back, listening to her frustrated moan and watching the end of the 
enlarger pulsate with her internal contractions.

I released the valve on the bulb and let the air hiss out of the 
expansion device. When it had collapsed to about half it's former size, 
I withdrew it and immediately restarted the fucking machine.

This time, the ram didn't stop until the flared base of of the dildo was 
pressed tightly against the greasy lips of Molly's vagina.  When the 
head popped through the recently expanded opening and entered her womb, 
Molly gave a gasp of surprise and rolled her eyes back in her head, 
shouting, "Aaaaaaghhh! What are you doing to me?"

I smoothed the hair back from her face and said, "Pleasing you!"

With that, the ram resumed its relentless fucking motion, pistoning the 
full length of the dildo into Molly's pliant body with each stroke.

In seconds, Molly's body went rigid and she moaned through her first 
climax. As the ram continued pounding her, faster and faster, she leapt 
from one peak to the next, climbing ever higher as the insistent 
mechanism wrung orgasm after orgasm from her sweating body.

I lubed a middle finger and elicited a gasp of surprise as I inserted it 
into her rectum and began fucking her in time with the machine.

"What - what are you doing?" she croaked, then shuddered through another 
climax.

I kissed her again, plunging my finger in to the palm, and whispered, 
"Getting you ready for your next lesson..."

I added a my ring finger alongside the other, and after a few strokes, 
as her ass started to milk my fingers, pushed my forefinger in, as well.

When her anus started clutching at and releasing my fingers, I stopped 
the ram and withdrew the dildo from her gaping cavern.  I released her 
from the bench and helped her stand, then led her, on wobbly legs, to a 
low platform.  I sat on the edge of the platform and guided her ass down 
onto my cock.

She hissed as she sank onto my rigid shaft, then said "Oooh, that feels 
good, but I told you I don't get off this way!"

I whispered my reply in her ear, "If you keep an open mind, I think 
you'll get off THIS way!"

With that, I lay back on the platform, taking her with me.  As always, 
Caesar was ready to go, and as I gave him the signal to mount his knot 
was already beginning to form.

Molly gasped and tensed up as the big grey dog lifted himself on top of 
her. "Shhhhhh," I whispered, "Let him pleasure you!"

Caesar gripped us both around the hips as he searched for her opening, 
and I was grateful for my foresight in keeping his dewclaws trimmed and 
rounded off.

After three or four misses, the pointed end of Caesar's purple, dripping 
shaft found the opening to Molly's tunnel.  In one powerful stroke, he 
buried it deep inside her.

"Oh my GOD!" she shrieked, as the half-formed knot entered her through a 
vaginal opening that was now constricted by my presence in her ass, and 
Caesar's furry sheath nudged at her labia.

Caesar didn't waste a moment on niceties, but went right to work, 
pistoning in and out of Molly's spasming tunnel and spearing deep into 
her womb.  His knot rapidly inflated to it's full softball size, and the 
sensation of that huge bulge working back and forth inside her had Molly 
shrieking and moaning atop my body as I plunged in and out of her colon.

I could feel Caesar's hard knot working back and forth against my cock 
and Molly's internal muscles milking the two of us as I stroked deep 
into her steamy bowels. Molly's legs clamped around Caesar's waist and, 
seemingly of their own volition, her hips started meeting his thrusts, 
the two of them working in concert to bury his bloated shaft as deeply 
inside her as possible.

The dog's machine gun assault had me nearing my own explosion in a very 
short time, but I hung on, waiting for Molly, who was on the verge of 
going ballistic over the sensations assailing her stretched orifices. 
She screamed and hollered at the top of her lungs, and when Caesar 
climbed the platform with his hind legs and tucked his tail between 
them, burying his entire spear and half it's sheath in her quivering, 
spasming tunnel, then blasted the back of her womb with a load of cum 
several degrees hotter than her own body heat, Molly lost it.  Her 
scream started in an almost subsonic register and quickly climbed past 
high 'C' to hit and hold a stratospheric note that had Caesar shaking 
his head and Czar pawing at his ears.  Her ass milked and massaged my 
cock like a grease-coated fist as I matched Caesar's blast with one of 
my own, deep in Molly's seizing ass. Her legs went rigid around the 
dog's waist, and I thought she might crush him as her torso vibrated 
like a cello string above me for at least ten seconds.  Then every 
muscle in her body went limp as she inhaled a great shuddering gasp of 
air and lay panting between Caesar's body and mine.

I stroked her hair and waited as her soccer conditioning quickly brought 
her breathing back to normal.  Caesar just placed his head on her 
shoulder and waited for his knot to subside, enjoying, with me, the 
little aftershocks that shook Molly's body.

"So, Molly," I whispered in her ear, "still think you can't get off like 
this?"

She grinned and rocked her head side to side on my shoulder, disturbing 
Caesar who licked her face as though he thought that might help.

"I've NEVER, EVER cum like that, Mr. Brenneman!" she rasped, licking 
dried lips.

"Well," I said, "Caesar is just an available male. You don't need a dog 
to do this if you have two willing guys.  Another thing you can do with 
two guys, if they're not too homophobic, is take them both in your 
vagina. That should tighten things up nicely, and still give them all 
the stimulation they need!"

"Oh!" she gasped, "I never really thought of doing TWO guys! Hey, that 
might be fun!"

After a few minutes, Caesar gave an experimental pull, and with a loud 
SLUUURP his shrinking cock extracted itself from Molly's pussy, pouring 
their love juices over my balls.  I helped Molly up and led her to the 
dungeon shower where, with much touching, kissing, and fondling, we 
washed the combined fluids from our various body parts.

After drying off, I tugged lightly on the nipple clamps she still wore, 
and said, "I didn't put rings in these because I know you have to shower 
with your teammates, but if you like, I can put removable barbells 
through them, that will serve the same purpose, but can be removed if 
needed. You know, like in the shower, or at airport security...!"

She thought for a bit, then shook her head. "No, I don't think I'm ready 
for that yet, but it IS tempting."

I led her to another bench and had her lie down with her head hanging 
over the end of the bench.  I then secured her ankles near her head, 
about shoulder width apart.

I kissed her for a moment then said in a low voice, "I'm going to try an 
experiment.  You obviously like having large objects in your pussy, now 
we'll find out if you like having them in your ass. I'll start with 
something about the size of my cock, which you've already taken without 
difficulty, and gradually work up to larger objects, ok?"

Her eyes got huge and she blushed under her freckles, but nodded an 
affirmative.

For my own edification, I poked the end of my half-hard dick at Molly's 
mouth as I bent over her supine body.  Her delicate lips opened readily 
and her tongue eagerly drew me in, quickly transforming my cock into a 
steel rod.

I took the smallest of the dildoes I had earlier arranged on a shelf 
beside the bench, and slowly worked it into her ass. Molly moaned around 
my cock as it bottomed out in her colon, working my glans against the 
roof of her mouth with her tongue. I rotated the dildo in place and 
started a slow reciprocating motion, twisting and stretching her passage 
as I went.  Within a few strokes, her pelvis was gyrating so much, I 
just concentrated on the in and out, and let her handle the stretching.

She was building up a good head of steam when I withdrew the dildo 
completely, enjoying the sensation of her frustrated moan on the head of 
my cock, that was now lodged part way down her throat.  I switched to 
the next larger dildo, that was both thicker and longer, and smoothly 
inserted it into her still dilated rectal opening, getting a small grunt 
from Molly, but no tensed muscles that would indicate intense pain. 
Slowly, rotating  gently as I went, I pushed the larger phallus deep 
into Molly's guts, to the tune of a long, guttural moan. When I reached 
the point where the other dildo had bottomed out, there were still two 
inches remaining. Slowly, giving her intestines time to rearrange 
themselves, I sank those last two inches into her quivering rectum. 
Molly had pretty much forgotten about my cock, which was now buried to 
the hilt in her mouth and throat, but the vibrations from her vocal 
chords and the unconscious working of her tongue against my shaft were 
providing plenty of stimulation on their own.

I gave her five minutes with the new dildo, driving her through several 
small climaxes, before switching to the next.  With each successively 
thicker insertion and deeper penetration, her excitement level grew, 
until she was thrashing around on the bench and screaming around my 
cock.  I withdrew my excited rod to make sure she wasn't in distress, 
but she got two handfuls of my buttocks and pulled me back in as deeply 
as I could go, taking control of my thrusts in the process. By the time 
I got to the largest of the monster phalluses I had prepared, I doubt if 
she even knew or cared where she was.  Her hugely stretched anus plunged 
upward to meet each stroke, and her belly bulged obscenely around the 
massive rubber dong as it plundered her lower intestinal tract.  The 
sight of the enormous mound advancing and retreating within her body, 
combined with the exquisite sensations of her wildly spasming, vibrating 
throat and mouth soon sent me over the edge to blast my load deep down 
her throat.  I don't think she even noticed, she was that lost in her 
own world of sensory overload.

I withdrew my over-sensitive cock from her mouth, and moved around to 
sit on the open end of the bench.  I dipped my right hand in the tub of 
lube I had been using for the dildoes, and withdrew the enormous rubber 
cock with my left.

"Put it BACK! God DAMN IT!" Molly screeched, "Don't you DARE stop NOW!"

"Your wish is my command!" I answered calmly, and tucking my thumb into 
my palm, I made a spear out of my hand, thrusting almost to the elbow in 
one long, slow penetration.

"Oh SHIT!" Molly lifted her head, staring wild-eyed at my arm protruding 
from her upturned rectum, "OH MY GOD!"

She looked at me with a panicked expression on her face. I grinned and 
slowly rolled my hand into a fist, the sensation of things moving inside 
her causing her eyes to get even wilder.

"What the HELL are you doing to me!" she shrieked.

Again I grinned, and replied, "I'm fisting your ass!"

With that I slathered more lube on my arm and shoved a couple more 
inches into her.  I pointed to the bulge of my fist near the top of her 
abdomen and said "Watch!"

I slowly pulled back as she stared, mesmerized, until the bulge merged 
with that of her pubic bone and the ring of her anus against my fist 
stopped my withdrawal. Suddenly, as if she was realizing for the first 
time what she was seeing, her body began to shake and her ass spasmed 
around my clenched fist as she wailed her way through a powerful orgasm.

Not letting up, I plunged my fist back into her guts, slowly pistoning 
in and out as Molly climbed peak after peak, only to soar into the 
abyss, shrieking, quaking and moaning each time she saw the bulge of my 
fist in her belly or my arm stuck halfway up her ass.

Gradually, her responses weakened as even the incredible stamina she 
needed to play soccer failed her, and I slowly withdrew my arm from her 
insides, propagating one final explosion as I pulled my balled up fist 
from her gaping ass.

I left her there in a virtual stupor while I went upstairs to call Frank 
and check on her car.  He verified that it was in his lot and safe for 
now.  A voice mail message informed me that the tow company used by 
Molly's roadside assistance plan would pick up the car Monday afternoon 
and take it to the dealer in Seattle.

When I returned to the dungeon, Molly was just beginning to stir, 
feeling gingerly around her slowly contracting anal opening to check for 
damage.

"That's an amazingly flexible set of muscles, Molly," I said, "and since 
we took our time about stretching them, they should be all right. 
There's no tearing, but you may find that bowel movements have some 
urgency for a few days. Your intestines weren't designed for that kind 
of abuse, but should have no trouble recovering."

She carefully raised herself to a sitting position as I released her 
legs, and swung them over the side of the bench.

I sat beside her, our thighs touching, but nothing else, and asked, "So, 
how did my experiment turn out? It's obvious your body enjoyed it, but 
how do YOU feel about it?"

She was thoughtful for a long moment, then looked at me earnestly. "When 
can we do it again?"

I smiled and gave her a quick hug. "Right after lunch! Only this time, 
we'll give your ass a rest and see how your pussy likes it!"

She returned my smile and leaned into the hug, laying her disheveled 
head on my shoulder. "Mr. Brenneman, you are a bad, EVIL man! I'm SO 
glad I met you!"

Lunch was nothing special - turkey sandwiches - but Molly ate like she 
had been starved for a week, wearing nothing but the robe I wrapped 
around her as we left the dungeon. I removed the nipple clamps to 
restore circulation, as well. I filled her in on what was happening with 
her car as we ate.

When we returned to the dungeon, I gave her a choice: She could start 
with the fucking machine, as we had this morning, or she could let Czar 
start preparing her for her second fisting.

She didn't hesitate, but went over and knelt beside Czar, smoothing the 
fur back from his head to his shoulders with both hands. "How about it, 
big boy? You want a piece of this?"

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he understood the hand 
signal I gave him, and stood up, the pointy tip of his growing cock 
beginning to show from the end of his sheath.

"Good golly, Miss Molly!" I said, cleverly - as if she hadn't heard it a 
thousand times before, "Why don't you come over here first? Believe me, 
you'll be much more comfortable."

I positioned her kneeling, face down, on a narrow bench that supported 
her torso and knees with firm, soft pads, leaving her posterior hanging 
a few inches beyond the end of the bench.

I got Czar positioned and his cock inserted, then left them there while 
I went upstairs to take care of a few details in my workshop.  Knowing 
Czar's habits, I returned about half an hour later to find them panting 
through the aftermath of what, from all appearances, was an excellent 
fuck for both of them.  Czar lolled contentedly across Molly's back with 
his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, and barely flicked his 
ears in my direction as I entered.

Molly's breath was just returning to normal when Czar lifted a leg over 
her back and turned his tail to hers.  With all the other ladies he had 
fucked, this would have meant he had to stand there, ass to ass with his 
lover, for several minutes while his knot deflated. This time, however, 
with a kind of wet, muted POP, his fully inflated knot disengaged from 
Molly's overstretched labia, freeing him to lie down in the corner and 
lick his turgid purple battering ram clean.

I placed a hand on Molly's lower back to let her know I was there, and 
knelt behind her, bucket of lube at the ready, saying, "I was going to 
use the dildoes to stretch you some more, but if Czar can come out that 
easily, my hand should be able to go in. Ready to try?"

At her silent nod, I slathered the greasy substance over my hand and up 
to my elbow, once again making a spear of my bunched fingers. With very 
little resistance, and only a small moan from Molly, my hand went right 
in to my wrist. Using three fingers, I inserted them into the partially 
opened ring of muscle that formed her cervix, and started separating, 
twisting, and stretching to open it more.  Soon, my little finger joined 
the other three. As her cervix spread and flexed, Molly moaned and 
humped gently against my hand, rocking her hips about a half inch at a 
time as my hand sank deeper and deeper into this most private of 
openings. Her cervix flexed and nibbled at my knuckles as the back of my 
thumb hit its muscular ridge.  I withdrew until I could straighten my 
thumb, then, folding it inside my other fingers, I reinserted my hand, 
stroking gently in time with Molly's rocking pelvis. In a half-inch, out 
a quarter, in a half-inch, out a quarter-inch. Gradually, the mouth of 
Molly's cervix chewed up and swallowed my hand, allowing the last couple 
of inches to slide through to my wrist.

Molly gasped and spasmed through her first climax when I spread and bent 
my fingers, making spider-crawling motions inside her womb with the tips 
of my digits. Carefully, I closed my fist and pulled. Slowly, ever so 
slowly, her cervix relinquished it's hold on my fist as I tugged, making 
sure that it came out gradually, even when her cervix slipped past the 
knuckles and wanted to squeeze me the rest of the way out. Without 
letting the opening close, I pushed the closed fist back in. Molly's 
eyes, as I could see in the mirror on the wall, were squeezed shut and 
her hands had a white-knuckled grip on the handles mounted on the bench 
for just that purpose.  I did this several times, going a little faster 
each time, until her body relaxed and started to respond. When she had 
relaxed to the point where I could stroke smoothly in and out and she 
even pushed back to help, I stopped, and leaving my hand embedded to its 
deepest point, had Molly turn over and lie on her back with her feet on 
the floor.

I turned my fist with her body until she was comfortably settled, then 
twisted it back to a more comfortable position for me, sending shivers 
through her frame. I positioned myself a little to the side so I could 
use my mouth on her clitoris while giving her full strokes with my fist. 
Each time I withdrew to the point where my knuckles pulled at her pubic 
bone, I twisted and rubbed at the top of her tunnel, stimulating her 
G-spot while I nibbled and sucked at her clit.  She watched between her 
breasts as my fist traveled the length of her tunnel, forcing its way 
through her dilated cervix and stretching her womb to the utmost. Like 
the last time, the visual image of my arm disappearing so far into her 
body combined with the sight of my fist moving within her sensitive 
tissues stimulated her as much as the physical sensation of my bony, 
clubbed hand bludgeoning it's way into her most private depths.

Faster and faster, I pummeled her womb, going deeper and deeper, until 
the widest part of my forearm, just below my elbow, stretched her abused 
labia while the hard knuckles of my fist mugged and violated the tender 
flesh of her baby chamber. She cried, she wailed like a banshee, and 
with each thrust, her pelvis rose to meet my fist with greater and 
greater violence.

"FUCK ME! FIST ME!" she screamed, "POUND MY INSIDES TO A FUCKING PULP!"

As she rose higher and higher, cumming almost constantly, but never 
coming down far from the last peak, her body tightened like a bowstring, 
supported on her toes and shoulders. I bit hard on her clit and started 
rotating my fist as I stroked, corkscrewing it in and out of her 
clinging, clenching cavity. Her pelvis rotated around my forearm in the 
opposite direction to my motion, intensifying the feeling of her guts 
churning to make room for the massive cudgel that pounded mercilessly 
into the sacred cradle of motherhood.  As she neared the precipice, her 
torso from hips to shoulder shaking at about Richter 7.9, I drove my 
fist as deep as it would go and suddenly opened my hand, straightening 
all five fingers to stab the interior of her spasming womb at five 
distinct points.

Molly screamed silently, her hips slamming up and down against my 
forearm, her eyes rolling back in her head and her hands pulling her 
abused nipples as far from her body as they would stretch. Four, five, 
six times her buttocks slapped against the padded bench, bouncing two 
feet into the air as I hung on for the ride, locked deep inside her by 
my extended fingers. Finally, her knees came up to her belly, curling 
into a fetal position around my buried hand, then flew straight out 
ahead of her, almost catching me and sending me across the room. 
Suddenly she was still and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled for 
oxygen.

I slowly pulled my hand from her flooded cavern, drawing shudders and 
spasms in its wake.

By the time I returned from washing my hand, Molly was snoring 
peacefully on the bench, her sopping, gaping pussy twitching 
occasionally.  I covered her with a light blanket and went upstairs, 
surprised to see that it was twilight outside.

I prepared a meal of broiled venison with a salad of early greens from 
my garden and baked some potatoes from the root cellar. Molly appeared 
as I was setting the table, having showered and dressed in the outfit 
she'd worn that morning.

I smiled and waved her to a seat at the table, pouring an iced mug full 
of my specially brewed light ale and setting it near her plate.  She 
nearly drained the mug without taking a breath, so I refilled it before 
filling one for myself.

I ate a small piece of the venison and some salad, everything else 
disappeared somewhere inside Molly.  Eventually, she pushed away from 
the table, took a long swig of ale, and let loose a belch that would 
have turned heads at Mel's tavern.  She giggled and put a hand over her 
mouth.

"Oops! Sorry!" she looked at her mug and at the empty dishes in front of 
her and said, "Oh my gosh! I've never eaten like that!"

It was a warm evening for spring, and we took our beers out on the front 
porch, settling into the old-fashioned glider I had installed myself 
after the contractors left.  Molly's head settled on my shoulder and we 
sat, gazing at the stars and listening to the night sounds.

Those of you who've only lived in cities where the man-made lights mask 
the stars and have never heard the sounds that mother nature's creatures 
make as the day shift settles down for the night and the night shift 
begins to hunt are to be pitied.

The sighing of wind through the trees, the rustle of leaves, the calls 
of insects, frogs, owls, bats and larger creatures are occasionally 
punctuated by the sound of a dead branch falling somewhere in the 
forest, the rustle of wings of a passing owl, or a wolf or coyote giving 
voice to its joy at being alive.  The sky, away from city lights, is not 
dotted with stars.  They form a continuous shifting, dynamic backdrop 
for the closer, constant stars. Constellations are hard to pick out 
because there are so many stars to choose from, and all are visible, not 
just the brightest.  I have navigated my way for miles around my 
property on moonless nights with only the stars for light, and have had 
no trouble moving soundlessly through the deepest forest using only 
their diffuse glow and my ears for guidance.  This is one of the primary 
reasons I bought this place and I hope that by the time the cities 
spread this far, as they must, I will be long buried.

After a long silence, Molly finally stirred on my shoulder.

"Mr. Brenneman?" she whispered timidly, as if afraid to disturb the 
sanctity of the moment.

When I looked her way, she continued, "Can I stay here for my spring break?"

I smiled tenderly at her and replied, "You can stay a couple more days, 
but I need to go into Seattle myself on Tuesday, and from there I'm 
going down to Dallas for a few days.  If you like, I'll take you to 
Seattle with me, when I go."

If she was disappointed, she didn't show it, but settled more 
comfortably in the crook of my arm and sipped her beer.

Most of the next two days we spent exploring the place.  I showed her my 
swimming hole in the natural pool beneath a twenty foot waterfall, and 
we went skinny dipping. There were no repeats of the steamy sex of the 
first day, but on her last night we enjoyed a lengthy session of mutual 
oral gratification, eventually both falling asleep in my somewhat 
rumpled bed.

As she climbed out of the pickup in front of an upscale suburban home on 
Tuesday, I gave her a hand-rubbed, inlaid wooden case.  When she opened 
it, she found a thick, fourteen inch wooden phallus whose shape, if 
exaggerated in size, was true to life in every detail, with veins and 
ridges lovingly carved in bas-relief on the exotic tropical hardwood. 
Molly almost dropped the dildo, case and all, as she leaped back into 
the cab of the pickup to kiss me.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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