Vixen

By Heather © 2009

Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

If you don’t like graphic sexual stories, if you are under 18, or if you live in a state where reading this is illegal, then don’t read this and leave. If it is illegal in your state to possess this literature then I suggest you leave as well. This is a work of fiction to display fantasy.

WARNING: This story is pretty intense, but as with all my stories, nothing really happens to the characters that they haven’t asked for or injures them. Wait until the end of the story before thinking otherwise, or if in doubt at any time.

The last few days were unlike any other. After all, when the guy you have been madly in love with for eight months sets you up to be raped, or at least as close to it as you can get, it tends to strain the relationship quite a bit. Peter kept pestering me to talk to him about it, but I just couldn't get over the embarrassment of that night. And eventually I guess he understood that it was that embarrassment that was keeping me from opening up to him over the event.

I guess there were a lot of factors involved that were keeping it all just too fresh in my mind to simply sweep it under the rug. There were the bruises of clear finger marks where that man had squeezed the hell out of my breasts; my nipples still in their swollen state. And for two days it felt almost impossible to fully close my legs. Every time Peter would go to kiss me I would instantly be repulsed by what he had done to me. But then again, that wasn't totally true. While he was at work, I had plenty of time to figure out why he had used me that way. I had come to the realization that he had been training me ever since that first night behind the school. Training me to be the sex object of his desires. And for the most part, I liked playing that role. His intent seemed to be to see just how far he could take things. That thought left me glassy eyed nearly the whole day.

Peter had promised to take care of every one of my needs and that I could play the stay at home house wife. Being somewhat lazy, that was a very appealing idea to me. His job as an accountant supplied an ample amount of money for both of us, left me the entire day to myself, and the most I had had to worry about so far was his voracious appetite for somewhat kinky sex. That was in so many ways the most valuable asset in our relationship. Peter could read me a lot better than I ever really gave him credit for and that included the other night. Yeah, I got pissed at him, but I kept asking myself what I would have done if I had known it was coming. Would I have stopped it? I had serious doubt that I would have intervened at all.

Peter had called me earlier to tell me that he only had to work a half day and suggested that we spend the rest of the day getting over our last sexual escapade. I knew that meant that he wanted to talk things out with me. I still didn't know what to say to him, except for one thing that is. I knew that he felt a lot of guilt over what he had done to me, or perhaps over having enjoyed it so much. My guilt came from not being able to admit to him that I just couldn't get it out of my mind. Yeah, technically it had been a rape, but after all, he had my tacit approval to spice up our sex lives in just about anyway he so desired. The only serious rule had been that no harm was to come to me.

I don't know what it was, but that guy had such a mental hold over my emotions. Despite all my objections, all my protests, and all my whining, he did have his finger on the pulse of my sex drive. That was something that no other guy had ever understood about me, and the reason why I had always feared getting too close to any particular man. I had been too afraid of getting labeled perverted and too afraid to even confide in anyone all the things that had comprised the makeup of my sex life growing up. Not only did Peter have the ability to drag those stories out of me, but he had the ability to continue them on into my life with an ease that made it much simpler for me to deal with; at least until this rape thing.

I had been waiting around for Peter to get home in just my robe with nothing on underneath but my panties. I had showered because I knew he would want to have sex after three days, and even though I wasn't willing to admit it to him, I was more than ready for one of his spicy rendezvous that would surely end up with him munching away on me. I was trying to figure out the best way to slip past the obvious resentment I still held towards his actions so that we could just enjoy a great roll in the hay. Just thinking about it, my hand dropped between my legs and my fingers deftly began playing around my mound. I giggled to myself when I felt how smooth it was down there now. I had shaven myself bald as sort of an enticement for Peter. I knew he liked that little girl look because of the first time I had done it several months earlier. I guess I was tricking myself into believing that it was all for his benefit, but in my heart I knew I really liked it that way ever since one of our nights of role playing.

It had come late one night during one of our intimate sessions when he had gotten me to dream up a sexual scenario that I thought he might like to play - sort of a role playing game. I hadn't wanted to admit to anything I had ever really fantasized about in the past, so finally I just called him daddy and he took it from there. In truth, my father had never lain a finger on me, but several times I had caught him looking at me when I was in a bathing suit or just very suggestively dressed. So when Peter took the reins of that idea and worked the role of my perverted daddy to a tee, I fell into the role of the great reluctance any daughter would have when their father was behaving badly towards them. Granted, it was sick, but that didn't diminish just how wild the sex had been throughout the night. To this day I still call him daddy whenever I want to get a rise out of him.

After he had called me, I made sure the ties he used on me were just ever so slightly in sight on the bedroom hutch. Tying me up, or down depending on his desires, was relatively new, but something I greatly enjoyed. Knowing Peter to be just as perverted as myself, if not more, restraining my free will made everything that much easier on me mentally. I think he clearly understood that because he would tease the hell out of me the minute my hands were taken out of the equation. Damn, he had such a way of getting into my head that under the proper circumstances he could get away with just about anything. I guess he had that in mind after inviting that stranger to partake of me the way he had; as his property.

I guess between my thoughts and my fingers, I hadn't heard Peter pull into the driveway. I snatched my fingers away from my crotch the second I heard the door opening. He looked at me with such a big grin on his face that I was sure he had caught me diddling with myself, but the man following him through the door washed over me with all sorts of fearful ideas to replace that one. I pulled my robe fully closed and began to excuse myself until Peter grabbed my arm and told me I was fine just the way I was dressed in such a firm voice that I knew he expected me to stay in my robe. I peeked down my front to make sure my braless nipples weren't overly stimulated to the point of protruding through the thin terry cloth. That was when he took my right hand and held it to his nose. I knew what he was sniffing for and by the grin on his friends face, he knew as well. Peter grinned after finding the obvious scent left behind from my earlier dalliance into my crotch and dropped it.

I was asked to supply the boys with beers and when I got back, they were both seated. I was introduced to John on the couch and as I went to shake his hand while holding my robe closed with the other, he snatched me off my feet to fall next to him on the couch. I tried giggling the gesture off as I struggled to get back to my feet, but John pulled me back and under his arm. I shot a look at Peter that clearly displayed my objections to this stranger manhandling me, but when I realized he was indeed a stranger it occurred to me that Peter had been plotting yet again. I found that hard to fathom since we really hadn't gotten over the last episode.

The guys began talking about me as though I wasn't even able to hear them, and John's hands began running down to grope my ass through the terry cloth. When I started to pull his hand away, Peter gave me a very stern, "Respect me!"

That bastard! Not only was he setting me up again, but his request had the purpose of forcing me into a position where I couldn't say a word, let alone complain about anything he might have planned for me. We sat there as the men began inferring what might happen to me as John felt more free to let his hands roam over my legs and shoulders. When he saw I fell instantly silent, he knew what Peter had been telling him about me was true. I began quivering under his touches even as my hands automatically kept trying to brush them away. And if being openly molested right in front of my boyfriend wasn't enough, then telling me what I was in for pushed me over the edge.

John ran his hand up my leg, under my robe and straight to the crotch of my panties. I pushed hard against it until we became deeply entangled in a tussle over my modesty. John asked Peter if he could get started, and with his undeniable grin of acknowledgement, I found myself getting picked up off the couch and thrown over his shoulder. John was a little larger than Peter and had little problem holding me sprawled over his shoulder. As he began searching for the bedroom I mouthed to Peter to stop his actions, but all he did was smile at me and blow me a kiss. My fate was clearly sealed.

As soon as he found his way to the bedroom, he slammed me onto the bed and fell on top of me. My robe was swiftly pushed open and off my shoulders and a small struggle did nothing to prevent him from freeing my arms of it. I always felt inadequate whenever my small breasts were exposed for a first time and I was ashamed when I felt my nipples instantly harden in the free air. It was clear to me now that this guy wasn't going to take a no from me over anything, but that didn't stop me from trying to push him off me as his hands freely roamed over my breasts and his fingers crudely delved into my slit. Again I felt the unmistakable engorgement of my clitoris as his fingers barely grazed it repeatedly. As much as I feared being essentially raped a second time, there was no denying that I was so aroused but his manhandling that I really didn't want him to stop.

When Peter finally came in to watch my impending assault, his smile told me just how involved he was as he simply stood by watching me struggle. John glanced Peter's way to make sure he still had his approval, and then pinned my arms over my head and sat on my stomach.

"Okay, bitch, time for a little fun. Where's those ropes I've heard about?"

I couldn't believe this stranger knew about everything, but after asking me repeatedly where the ropes were, I slowly turned my head towards the dresser and gestured with a head nod. He bent down and took my right nipple into his mouth and crunched it between his teeth until I screamed out. When he finally released it he sat back and demanded that I get the ropes for him. Did he really expect me to help him restrain myself for my own rape?

As he moved off me, I grabbed the robe and began getting off the bed. Suddenly, John ripped the robe from around me and I stood there awkwardly in just my panties. I covered my boobs as best I could and walked over to retrieve the ropes. As I uncovered them I remembered how I had prepared them with a slip knot in each piece just an hour earlier. Throughout all the scenarios I had imagined, none of them matched the intensity that I was facing at the moment. I ran the knotted velvet ropes through my hand as I took a deep breath and turned to face the guys again. I cringed at just how much pleasure John's face was showing, but weirdly enough the look on Peter's face served to calm me a little. He was just as excited to see my situation, though his smile told me that in so many ways I was just pleasing my man. I walked over to the bed and handed John the ropes as he ordered me to lose my panties. I bit my lip and shook my head. I knew they would be coming off shortly, but having just shaved myself smooth the day before, I was skeptical as to what Peter would think when he saw what I had done. He would probably assume it as some sort of invitation to continue doing this to me.

John ordered me out of my panties two more times and when I refused, he snatched my arm and dragged me over to the bed. I found myself easily brought down onto my back and my flailing hands were quickly subdued. John sat on me to control my tantrum as he worked one of the loops over my left wrist and cinched it tight. He repeated his action on my right wrist and quickly spun my head around so it was at the foot of the bed. I wondered what he was doing as he struggled through my reluctant behavior and prepared loops around each of my ankles. He expertly tied each ankle fully splayed to the headboard posts as I kept trying to pull away and sit up.

This stranger got off the bed as I made a mad rush to untie my legs, but very quickly he had snared my right arm by the attached rope and yanked me back into a lying position while he tied it off to the post at the bottom of the bed, but to the underside of it. I was pulled backwards until when I finally laid my head back and found it hung off the edge of the mattress. All I could do was twist and wonder what the purpose of this upside down position might be for as it seemed so unusual to me.

I continued testing the tying abilities of John while he stood behind me undressing. When he stood up from pushing his boxers to the floor, I saw an amazing sight. I usually don't find men's penis' very appealing, but this one was so solid looking and with a perfect mushroom shaped cap at the end of it. It was bobbing in the air in anticipation of its reward; me. I gulped hard when he walked up to me and rubbed his member across my face.

John looked down on me and demanded to know where the blindfold was at. He forced two fingers into my mouth and just rubbed them all around my gums and teeth as if to inspect me. When he withdrew his fingers he asked me again for the blindfold. I shook my head once, but when he nearly screamed for me to tell him, I meekly stated, "The top right drawer." I immediately thought about the punishment for my spoken words and hoped Peter would understand that I had taken John's question as a pointed one expecting an answer.

He went to the hutch, pawed through the drawer and came back with a huge smile. Seconds later my sight was stolen from me. I felt his fingers tracing their way over my chest and belly until he could reach my mons, and gave it a rough rub and grope through my panties. His penis kept dragging across my face all the while as I sputtered to breathe around it. I felt him wrap his fingers around the side of my panties and in one swift tug, he ripped them almost completely from my torso. Another couple of tugs and I felt their tattered remnants getting yanked through the crack of my butt. I cringed when I heard him proclaim the bareness he saw as "most excellent" as he and Peter bantered about my recent shave. I wanted to tell Peter that I had done it for him, but they wouldn't have heard me and it just would have gotten me thrown in the closet again as soon as I was released for having spoken.

John spent a full minute or two just rubbing his hand over my mons and sliding his fingers through my wide spread folds. Every time he brushed against my clitoris my body would jerk involuntarily. It was so hard and sensitive. It came rushing to me once again that I was still in a dominant state and thus meant that despite my dissenting challenges, I was merely thinking as a ravenous whore waiting for this man to successfully challenge my dominance in all this.

I worked feverishly to get a tiny crack of light to open up under the bottom of my blindfold so as to see just how Peter might be feeling about all this. While they were busy toying with my lower region, I managed to get a sliver of sight. Peter was watching from right next to the bed as his friend manipulated my entire vulva and groped my ass cheeks coarsely. Shortly I felt John stand back up behind me and then my hair was tugged downward forcing my head to hang off the foot of the bed. I felt his other hand push my jaw open and it was all too obvious what was coming next. Unable to close my mouth even slightly, his penis easily slipped into it.

I immediately gagged when he pushed it into me seeking to close off my throat. He began a humping motion and seemed thrill to hear me gagging and gurgling for air between his thrusts. I was sodomized like that for several minutes at different levels of intensity until the slobbery mix of his precum and my spit ran down my face and into my hair. He pulled his thing out of me and told me he was going to cum in my mouth, and I was ordered to hold my mouth open. I closed it immediately and frantically shook my head. Then I heard Peter tell him, "Watch this, this is the way to control a bitch that won't behave."

I felt him grab at my clitoris in that very special way I loved. He would trap my tiny bump between his index finger and thumb, and essentially jerk me off like is was a miniature penis. But this time was much different. When he was sure he had a good hold of it, he squeezed until I screamed out in pain. I immediately began to say I would do as I was told, but caught my words quickly. To appease my breaking of the silence rule, I snapped my head backwards and left my mouth a gaping hole. Tears began soaking the blindfold where it met my forehead. I whimpered while I waited for that disgusting task to be finished. After a very long minute of waiting for the inevitable I heard John's hand motion stop and found out that luckily it had just been a way to torture my mind. The bed shook as John worked his way onto the jt between my legs and used his fingers to make sure I was plenty wet enough for an easy entry.

Just as the last time, it was a very quick plunge into me until he was completely buried inside of me. I gasped again remembering how painful the last intrusion had been, but I forced my mind to relax my muscles to reduce the pain. I bit my lip as I tried my best to accommodate his extremely rigid tool. And when the pain subsided to a somewhat rather pleasant feel of normalcy, I also realized that I had gone totally submissive for him. I began taking mental notes of how my role in all this changed so quickly. Instead of tightening my muscles as if to try to keep him out of me, I found myself almost helping him to get as deep into me as he wanted. Since I have such a small frame, that had to mean that he was bottoming out on me with every thrust.

I was thankful that this man had a more gentle approach in his style than my former rapist, and in many ways a loving touch. He was obviously pleased with my body's capabilities and kept telling Peter how lucky of a guy he was to have such a pleasing and lovely bitch with which to spend his days. I found it queer to find some measure of comfort in his praises of my body parts as most any girl would; if not in this position however. Hearing him exclaim how tight I was, the smoothness of my mons and vulva, and even how he approved of my breasts which really hadn't even grown large enough to have the typical spill-over-the-chest motion. His latter comment was a little demeaning when he added that fucking me was like "doing a really hot thirteen year old".

I saw Peter through the tiny gap in my mask approach us to take a closer look at our union, and when he saw my flaccid state, he told John he was going to kick it up a notch and release my legs. John was all too happy to allow me some fighting room and as soon as one leg was free, I kicked and twisted as much as I could. This time however, it was clearly all a show. I didn't want to shortchange whatever deal Peter had with this man and the worst was over with, so struggling to get free was purely for the benefit of the males. Besides, it's entirely impossible to get any descent size penis out of you without the proper scooting room once the man has asserted himself to the degree John had already done. My twisting only served to make me gasp more over the intrusive actions, and my kicking was totally ineffective with my legs being forced so wide by his actions that at best they could only graze the back of his legs.

I did finally get one good kick into his backside and that led John to hoist both my legs into the air which allowed him to plunge against my cervix even harder. He had me bent like a pretzel when he began ejaculating into me with cheers of triumph over having gotten his way with me. I screamed out in my own orgasm making very sure there were no words to be heard for which I might get punished for later. He slammed into me several more times making it clear that he was about finished with me. I smiled to myself thinking, "Alright, I pleased another man. He really liked me." I felt sick knowing I had in the end enjoyed getting raped yet again. And as before, I wondered just how proper it was to call all this a true rape. There was certainly no reason in my mind to call the police over something I had gotten myself into in the first place and even went through its entirety without once uttering the word "no". I could have simply made it quite clear at first mention by Peter of anything like this that I wouldn't tolerate such perverse acts, but not once did I ever warn him that he couldn't take such liberties.

When John dropped my legs back to the bed and plopped out of me, I felt as much of a mess down there as he had made of my mouth. I was busy catching my breath while the sounds of John getting hurriedly dressed filled my ears. It made me a little self-conscious when it almost appeared that the only thing I had been good for was as a lay. I would find out much later though that John actually worked with Peter and didn't have the rest of the day off as did he; thus his need to hurry away.

After Peter showed John out, he came back to the bedroom and I could hear him removing his clothes now. I wanted to beg him to apply his skills to allow me a proper orgasm for myself, but hopefully hearing him strip meant just that. When the bed shook I smiled and spread my legs for that special attention Peter was so wonderful at doing. His fingers began running aimlessly through the folds of my pussy and I could feel him playing in the mess again. My wishes were quickly dashed however when instead of applying his fingers back to my clitoris to force me to climax in a way that few girls have probably ever experienced, I felt him lining his penis up to fuck me. I was so disappointed at that moment. I love the crap out of Peter, even after the prior episode with John, but I needed to get off in the worst way. Sadly, his small stature just wasn't going to get me there.

Peter had no problem pushing his way into me as John had stretched me out pretty well. As a matter of fact, he had a hard time keeping it in me. My muscles just didn't have the power to hold onto him in any helpful way. And then I got some insight into what all this new sex was about when Peter became very talkative.

"Damn, it's so hot seeing you getting your cunt fucked by someone else. Watching you fight against the ropes to get free. Fighting them off. You have no fucking idea what the sight of you being taken does to me."

Now, despite having had no say what so ever in what has now happened to me twice, I was at least thrilled to know that it had all pleased my guy. After all, we had decided long ago that sex had much less to do with love, and everything to do with feeling good about the day-to-day doldrums of life. I tried harder to grip at Peter's extremely hard penis, but it just didn't have the girth of John's and that made it simply impossible for me to help out. At least Peter didn't seem to mind either the looseness of my cavity, nor the mess that caused him to repeatedly fall out of me. He was going at me like a dog in heat.

I felt my legs getting hoisted back into the air. That seemed to stop Peter's problems greatly and he resumed pumping away at me. I couldn't believe how turned on Peter was acting. I had always thought that "sloppy seconds", as the saying goes, was a major turn off for guys, but he just kept telling me how wonderful it felt to fuck me. He even mentioned how this would have to be his new "thing".

"Oh, god, yeah! Fucking you after some other guy fucked the hell out of you is pure heaven. I love fucking a dirty slut." He blew it there! It was one thing to call me his bitch and I could make some sense of that vernacular, but getting called a slut after all this was done to me without my participation? That was just too much. I blew it when I queried, "Slut? What the fuck...?"

All I got was a quick and very rude, "Shut the fuck up, bitch."

Again bent as a pretzel while a guy used my pussy as his own entertainment device, I stopped trying to be helpful. Peter was now on his own and I really didn't care if he got off or not. I could have been counting sheep from that point on. Is that what really turned him on? Thinking of me as a slut? Especially since this was all his doings? He couldn't have realized it since he was so busy trying to get himself satisfied, but that was a turning point in my way of thinking. I still loved the guy, but I had lost a lot of respect for him over the way he had begun to treat me.

Peter was obviously about to get off by the level of intensity he was displaying and before I knew it, my legs were beginning to fall back to the bed. I felt like a wet blanket full of goo and stickiness. I could hear him panting trying to catch his breath. I knew that I would be laying a good bitch session at his feet as soon as I was free. He had crossed a line that pissed me off to no end. But then, as is with Peter, after blowing it big time he was making a comeback.

I felt him slowly begin to finger my now excruciatingly slippery, messy lips. And before his fingers even left his exploration of my now loose folds, I knew what I was about to get. Luckily for him, it was also to a level of intensity that melted away a lot of my anger. When I felt him grabbing for my clitoris between his thumb and index finger, my back arched immediately. Finally, I was going to get mine. He started that special motion he was so expert at and began jerking me off by nothing more than that little bump of mine. I often wondered if there was another girl on earth that had ever experienced this feeling. I was essentially getting jerked off just like what a guy would do to himself. The only thing that could make this all feel any better would be if he would use his mouth, but after having had John down there I knew that wasn't going to happen.

I began twisting under the intense sensitivity of his actions. When I couldn't hold still enough for him, for the third time I had my legs bent into the air. He half laid on my legs as he continued frigging me in a very hyper way. I heard moans that I found impossible to believe were coming from me. And when he had me past the point of no return his fingers slowed. I grunted in an effort to get him to continue at his same pace, but then he made it clear why he slowed his motions. He was about to extort from me something he wanted.

"Feels good, huh?" I knew he had something coming. "Want me to finish you just the way you like it?"

I nodded like a sex-crazed women.

"Did you like what I did for you today?"

I nodded with extreme quickness just wanting him to get back to work on me.

"You're my bitch now... you know that right? You understand your place?"

One more time, I didn't hesitate to agree with him.

"I've been taking my pleasure and doing all the work to this point. Now its your turn. You have to take the next step on your own."

I was so puzzled by that comment that I nearly gave up on having an orgasm. He must have picked up on that and told me what he had in mind.

"The next time I fuck this cunt, first you have to get it just as fucking messy as it is now. You understand?"

I shook my head. I had no idea what he was asking of me. So, he spelled it out for me as he began working my clitoris again.

"I've chosen the last two men to watch fucking my pretty little cunt. Before I'll fuck you again, as well as this," referring to his manipulation of my clitoris, "you have to come to me with a cunt full of cum."

I was horrified! Did he really expect me to cheat on him? It had to be some sort of a trap. What guy would want to know his girl is fucking around on him? But it quickly occurred to me that that was exactly what had been going on here anyway. I tried judging his voice and other than his usual vulgar manner of speaking sexually, all I got was that he seemed very serious. All the while he toyed with me, he kept asking me if I would obey his request. He appeared smitten with the idea of having me as some used whore. And when I couldn't take his lackadaisical teasing of my clitoris any longer, I finally nodded to agree that I would do as he was asking. I had no intention of following through with it, but we could argue about that later.

Finally, his fingers went back to earnest work. His silver tongue got in on the action and he began telling me how much he wanted to see me willingly fuck another guy for him. He made it clear that it would be my cooperative nature that would turn him on the greatest. I was getting ready to have a mind blowing orgasm, so I went where I always do at that point - into my mind. I began remembering a past event that I felt extremely horny over. This time it was a flash back to when my first rapist entered me that very first time. I remembered what it had felt like as he stretched my vaginal muscles to their greatest extent ever. And then I was screaming my way through one of the most intense mind-blowing orgasms of my life. I couldn't even understand the words Peter was saying to inspire me through it, but I was sure he was very pleased at having gotten me off so well, yet again.

I fell to the bed with my body buzzing in the afterglow of such a wonderful masturbation at Peter's hands. It was then that I realized my clitoris felt like a hard little nut. I never realized it before now, but getting that done to me put me in the dominant state of the sex act. It may have been forced by his hand, but it was absolutely all about me for that moment. I felt like I had gotten some of my self-respect back from the earlier events. I felt my hands being freed and then my blindfold pushed away. I reached up and backwards to grab Peter's face to bring him down to me for a kiss, but he pulled away. I was shocked when he told me that he wasn't about to kiss me. After all, I had John's cock in my mouth just a half hour earlier. That pissed me off since it had been at his doing anyway. Besides, if it was okay for me to have that taste in my mouth, why did he feel above the same thing?

He did come around and to lie next to me, to coo me into a passive state, and to lull me into the mindset he expected. After rubbing me all over, yet still not wanting to kiss me, he helped me to my feet. I thought he was graciously helping me to the bathroom to get cleaned up, but was surprised greatly when he suddenly opened the closet door to push me into it.

Even as I begged to know why, and he answered, I knew why. I had spoken at two different points. And as much as I hated sitting in that cramped little closet in the dark, there was something I also loved about it. It meant I was allowing Peter the idea that he could control my actions with this rather benign punishment. By sitting in there and relenting how much I hated it, it was actually a pretty convenient way to rest the reins of our sex lives fully in Peter's hands. It was as good as having absolution for everything I had enjoyed about the events, without any of the guilt for having done such naughty and dirty things. I could live with that.

After he closed the door on me, I begged him not to leave me there too long and then made myself as comfortable among the shoes and boxes that littered the already cramped floor space. And when I had gotten comfortable, all I could do was relive all the events of the past several days and smile over all the wild and heated sexual interests that had occupied them. As I had done the last time, and the only other time I had been punished this way, I past the time the only way I could; I masturbated extremely slow to while away the time. I ran my fingers through the mess in my pussy and almost in a dream, wondered what that god awful mess held as so intriguing to Peter that he wanted me to emulate it yet again for him, and on my own.

If you'd like to read more of my stories, just click on me, Heather.

To write me your comments, Heather's Email