© OldNicksMan 2003

(The author does not condone non-consentual sexual or other violence against men or women. This story is a fantasy. Any resemblence to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.)

A beam of light falling through a gap in the curtains disturbed further her restless sleep. Jane gingerly opened one eyelid, wincing as the early morning light struck her full in the face. She blinked, closed her eyes again and breathed heavily.

She tried hard to think. She was lying face down on a bed in a hotel room. The bed was familiar. The room was familiar. She was naked. She felt bad. Jane opened both eyes slowly and raised her head from the rumpled, stained sheet. Her mouth was dry – very dry - and there was a vaguely familiar taste in her throat. Jane raised herself on her elbows and felt the churning in her stomach increase. She turned onto her side, and suddenly leapt to her feet, her hands to her mouth as she rushed across the room to the bathroom. Flinging herself onto her knees, she hung her head over the toilet bowl and was violently sick. Her body contorted with powerful spasms as she held onto the rim of the bowl, the smell of vomit in her nose. The spasm passed, came again, and eventually subsided. She held on firmly to the bowl to steady her trembling body, and tried to breathe her way back to sanity.

Her head stopped spinning and at length she managed to flush the toilet, the slight spray of cold water reviving her a little more. Slowly her body came back under her control. She closed the toilet lid and, remaining on her knees, she breathed in deeply again and felt her stomach settle a little more. Nervously raising her head, she stared blindly at the ceiling. What had happened to her? She raised one arm to the sink, and with a hand on the edge of the bath, lifted her body and swung around to sit on the toilet seat.

The pain hit her.

As the cold surface of the seat touched her naked bottom, pain like pins of steel shot through her, a fierce, sharp pain that burned the cheeks and lips between her legs and seared the angry ring of her anus. She cried out loud, tears bursting from her eyes, and stood up, her knees weak. Dizzy, she held onto the sink for support and looked around. With great care she slowly slid her right hand down and between her legs. Her body screamed back at her; the pain intense, a fierce soreness. She couldn’t bear to touch herself more, but had to know the cause of her agony. Reaching into her sponge bag, she withdrew a hand mirror and opening her legs, held it between her thighs.

What she saw amazed her. 

Instead of the base of a neatly trimmed triangle of light brown hair, she saw angry, swollen red lips. She saw bare skin where once her pubic hair had curled; she saw streaks of body fluids, some dry, some still wet and sticky and…....‘Oh God, What’s that?’ She stared in disbelief at the single gold ring that now hung from her angry vulva. ‘No!’ she cried, and made a grab at the ring to sweep it away. Pain shot through her like an arrow and she cried out loud. The ring was firmly attached, piercing her skin, just above her swollen and abused clitoris. She tried again to dislodge it, her brain not yet registering the futility of this action, and the pain hit her even more strongly, causing her to gag. Beyond speech and totally confused, Jane burst into uncontrollable sobs, her body convulsing as she dropped to her knees and wept.

But her despair was short-lived. Jane had not risen to where she was through weakness. Turning on the bath taps, she stood unsteadily at first, then with more confidence walked back to the bedroom, her newly discovered soreness forcing her into a strange, cowboy-like gait. She looked around the room for clues to what had happened. Her clothes – the suit and blouse in which she had made last night’s speech – were in a pile on the floor. The bedclothes were swept aside. The remaining, rumpled sheet was creased and stained, she could guess what with, and was that a patch of blood?

Jane did not understand how all this had come about, but she did understand that whatever it was must not be allowed to interfere with this most important day. It was to be her first speech to the Shareholders at the AGM. Women in industry all over the country were looking to her to do things right. There were few women on the boards of large companies – still fewer in male-dominated industries like hers – and this was perhaps the most important day of her professional life. It must not be ruined.

Picking up her clothes she looked at the bedside clock. 6.15 am. There was still time. She turned off the bath taps and called the night porter. ‘Urgent pressing needed – there’s a large tip in it for you’. She put on her bath robe and began to tidy the room. There was a knock on the door. The porter smiled and took the rumpled suit without speaking. ‘I need it in 30 minutes’ she said, pressing a crisp $20 note into his hand.

Closing the door, she returned to the bathroom and let the gown fall to the floor. She looked at herself in the large over-sink mirror. She saw as expected, a slim, attractive woman in her early 40s, dark haired, tanned and usually confident. She turned from left to right. She saw bruises on her upper thighs and buttocks. She saw tooth marks on her breasts. She saw the edge of the angry soreness between her legs and whimpered. Realising she was about to cry again, she shook her head angrily and forced herself to step gingerly into the bath. Warm, deep water wrapped itself around her legs, and she lowered more of herself into it. As it reached her vulva she winced and paused, letting her mind get accustomed to the pain, then lowered herself all the way in.

She laid back in the water and let its warmth sooth her. She felt it creeping into her sore places, around her bruises, and felt her aches begin to subside. Her head and stomach settled and she began to piece together the events of the night before.

Her speech after dinner had been good. She had left them laughing and she knew she had made the right impression on the rest of the board. She remembered actually looking forward to the big speech tomorrow – today now. She remembered going to the hotel bar after the dinner; the congratulations – some of them genuine; the drinks pressed into her hands; the back slapping – not all metaphorical; making excuses to go to her room; walking to the lifts …….and that was all.

Jane knew she had not been drunk. She had taken great care to remain in control, knowing that her wits needed to be at their sharpest. She had planned to get up early and make any last-minute changes to her speech for today. She seemed to have lost about 7 hours of her life. She tried again to remember, then out loud shouted –‘The drinks!’ She tried to remember just who had bought her the Bucks’ Fizzes that had appeared in her hand in the bar. She realised that she could not. The company was paying the bar bill so it hadn’t mattered at the time, but she realised now that she had no idea who had actually given her the glass of bubbles and….what else?

Feeling more in control now, Jane began to wash herself carefully. Her body still ached, but was feeling more human now. She ran more hot water into the bath. Feeling more confident still, she slid her fingers tentatively down between her thighs. She was still very sore, but clean now. More carefully still, she lightly touched the ring transfixing her clitoris. It still hurt badly, but less intensely now. She ran her fingers around the ring. She could find no gap, no opening, no clue how to take it off – and anyway she was still too swollen to try and remove it. Abandoning it, she carefully washed her breasts, pleased to see the tooth marks beginning to fade. Nothing would show when she was dressed, she thought, relieved.

She washed her hair in the bath, unusual for her, and rinsed it with the shower head. She took her weight on her arms and lifted herself up, stepping out of the water onto the white bathmat. Towelling herself down, she looked once again at her reflection.


‘I’m not going to let them win’ she determined. ‘I’m going ahead today as planned – and then I’ll find out who did all this.’ She touched her ring once again. ‘I’m keeping you there until I’ve got the bastards’.

Slipping on her gown, she walked out of the bathroom as a knock came on the door. Her clothes were back. She would carry on, but would be watching very closely all those around her from now on.

********

Jane opened the door of her room and stepped inside. She closed the door and leaned with her back against it. Her hand sought out the lock and clicked it home. She breathed out noisily. It was over! She had done it!

She walked over to the mini bar and took out a half bottle of champagne. Even at these prices, I deserve this, she thought to herself, and opened it carefully so as not to spill a single precious drop. She poured it into a bathroom glass – very sophisticated, she giggled – and took a long sip. The cold bubbles refreshed her and she walked to the window, thinking about her day. She had been good. No, not just good, brilliant! The AGM had gone smoothly, her speech had been pitched just right – not triumphant, not supplicating – and, most importantly, nobody had seemed to know anything about last night. There had been that one moment at dinner when she had sat down too firmly and the pain had made her leap up again. She’d had to pretend something was on the chair. And it had been difficult going to the toilet all day, her newly shaven vulva - very sensitive to the material of her knickers – making her feel in need of a pee all the time. That would have been funny she thought, if only it wasn’t so serious.

She had been to busy to watch everyone too carefully, and had seen nothing obvious today to give her a clue as to what had happened last night. More than ever she was determined to find out, and to take her revenge. She had quickly decided against going to the Police. Any story of this nature would make multi-page headline news in all the papers, and effectively destroy her career. She could imagine all the ‘lady director’ jokes now – the internet would buzz with them. So she would have to do it herself. 

She looked around the room again, and started! Nestling on her pillow was a small package, wrapped in brown paper. Small and flat, it looked like a small book. She picked it up and opened it. It was a CD in a case. There was no note, nothing written on the CD, no clue as to where it had come from. She crossed to the desk and took out her laptop, waiting impatiently for it to boot up. Sliding the disc into her DVD drive, Jane watched with intense interest as the program started automatically. Her interest soon turned to horror as the scene unfolded in front of her.

It was a video; a home video, but really well, almost professionally filmed. The camera was following a lady through a hotel corridor. The lady was dressed in a business suit. Her gait was a little unsteady. ‘God!. It’s me’. Jane put her hand to her mouth in horror. The lady reached the door to a hotel room, her room, and turned to face the cameraman. ‘This is my room. Do we go in?’ Jane recognised her own voice, but it was slightly slow and slurry, as if she was a little drunk. The cameraman – and it was a man – responded, but Jane couldn’t understand his voice. Whoever made the film had distorted the voice beyond even understanding what was being said. Jane saw her on-screen self smile and enter the room. The camera followed.

With mounting concern, Jane watched the screen. The camera was on her face as a question was asked. The man must have said something amusing because she giggled and looked coyly at him. ‘OK’ she heard herself say, and watched aghast as she slowly, provocatively began to undress herself. The film broke into ironic music as she slid off her suit jacket, casting it aside, then slowly unbuttoned the side of her skirt. Sliding down the zip, her skirt slid to the floor and she stepped out of it towards the camera. She was smiling a slightly lewd, slightly silly smile. She removed her cravat and began to unbutton the front of her blouse. She thrust her breasts forward as she did this, and as she slipped the blouse off first one shoulder, then the other, her full breasts and white bra were prominent in the picture. The camera panned back to show Jane in only white bra, knickers and stockings. She looked very sexy – obscenely so, thought Jane, transfixed.

The cameraman said something more, and Jane watched herself reaching behind her back to undo her top. It popped open and fell forward as her breasts broke free. As the cool air in the room hit them, their nipples began to harden – or was it something else causing her breasts to firm? 

At another word of command, she turned around and, looking over her shoulder at the camera, pointed her bottom towards it. Her cheeks were firm, she noticed, involuntarily pleased. Another word of command saw her slide a thumb into each side of her knickers and slip them teasingly over her cheeks to rest in the fold of skin below. Her hands reached behind to her buttocks and spread them for the camera. Jane gasped as she saw her own tight sphincter exposed on film. Her screen self then slipped the knickers down to the floor and, turning to face the camera full-on, stark naked, she moved back and sat on the bed, her legs over the side, not touching the floor.

Her face looked up at the camera, smiling slightly dully. She leaned back on her straightened arms and opened her legs. The camera angle changed as the cameraman lowered himself to look full on at her vulva. Her breasts seemed to loom over the shot and her legs opened a little wider. Another instruction and Jane saw her hand pass along her inner thighs, then watched as her fingers toyed with the curls of her pubic hair. Her hand passed to her nipples then returned between her legs and her face looked up as if in response to a question. 

The question was repeated and after a pause, Jane saw herself nod. The film stopped for a moment, then resumed with Jane still in the same position on the bed, but next to her were a tube of man’s shaving gel and her own underarm razor. Watching in silence, Jane knew with a dreadful certainty what was going to happen next.

In fear she watched as her right screen hand took the shaving cream and squeezed out a length onto her left palm. The strip of white cream looked obscene, Jane thought. She watched her screen self giggle and say ‘Of course, silly’ as the camerman mumbled something, then begin to massage the cream into her light brown, tightly curled pubic hair. Within minutes her groin was engulfed in white foam, like a long white beard, her lips in the middle in a grotesque parody of Father Christmas, thought Jane. Her screen hands took hold of the razor, and, starting below her navel, began to shave off the foam and the hair beneath.

Despite her obvious revulsion at the sight, Jane found her hands straying down to her groin, and stroking the smooth newly-hairless skin around her vulva. She found herself curiously excited as her screen hands held her outer labia tight so that the razor could do its work without nicking her. The camera never left its low angle, not wanting to miss a single second of this action, and Jane could hear her screen self panting and breathing over the soundtrack.

Moving to the tops of her thighs, the razor removed foam and hair from the sides of her vulva, and with an extreme opening of her legs, Jane saw herself pass the razor from the cleft of her buttocks upwards to her lower labia. A towel was passed to her (did she see a hand in a black leather glove?) and Jane’s screen self wiped her body clean. The camera moved up to her face. She was smiling stupidly, obviously pleased with her performance. It returned, via her full breasts with obviously erect nipples, to her newly smooth, pale and soft ‘pussy’ – there was no other word for it now.

After a good few seconds on the pussy, another indecipherable command saw Jane’s obviously willing right hand move to her new smoothness and begin to stroke. Her slim, dextrous fingers stroked first the fold in her skin at the top of her thighs, then her outer lips. A single bold finger traced a line from the base of her slit to the top, and returned. Jane watched herself lick the finger, then return it to its job. The finger parted her lips more positively now and began to slide lightly up and down between them. Her breath came more heavily and noisily now. Other fingers parted her lips wider to allow her long middle finger to slide between her inner lips and expose her moistening core. As it brushed over her clitoris, Jane heard a gasp which she recognised as her own voice, and watched beads of moisture appear on her vagina. The finger moved into her and out, glistening more with moisture every time, and then rose to touch her clit again. This time it remained there, working first lightly in small circles, then more firmly on her nub. 

Jane watched on, mostly in horror, but also remembering how she had not masturbated for a long time. How long it was now since John had left her?

Her screen self was getting more and more excited as the finger did its work. Her body started to wriggle and buck against it, and the camera cut to her face which was screwed up in either pain or pleasure, Jane couldn’t tell which. Cutting back below, her vagina now filled the screen, and the huge finger appeared to be driving her mad. Her hips bucked more and moisture spurted out of her vagina, the lips of which were now swollen and red. She heard herself choking and gasping as an obvious orgasm approached, a load moan and then silence, apart from muffled grunting and bodily heaving. The movement slowed, but did not stop.

A mumbled question was asked as the camera panned to her face. Jane saw herself flushed pink, dreamy eyed with a little saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. The questioner stopped and Jane watched herself nod eagerly. A hand appeared (definitely a gloved hand this time) and passed to Jane the biggest vibrator she had ever seen. Shaped like a grotesquely swollen erect penis, its head was broad and smooth and its shaft studded with vein-shaped lumps. It was jet black. Her screen self held it reverentially, gazing in awe. The voice spoke again, and slowly Jane lowered the vibrator to her moist and open pussy. The camera focussed in as its enormous rubber head touched her lips and a gasp was heard. A little pressure easily parted the swelling lips and the huge head passed with difficulty into her vagina. 

Jane gasped, watching herself on screen. Surely she had never been close to anything as big as that before. Even after having two children, she would have been stretched by such a huge monster. Unable to take her eyes off the screen, Jane saw in extreme close up her vagina stretching and stretching to accommodate the vibrator. Se could see the tension in her skin and the pressure on her inner lips as it entered. She watched as slowly the head, then one, two, three inches slid into her, and heard herself moaning incoherently, unable to speak. The cameraman was obviously beginning to get excited himself, and after a few mumbled words and a dazed nod from Jane who was biting hard into her lower lip, the gloved hand grasped the end of the vibrator and began to push it into her more.

Inching in, pulling back, then advancing again, the huge machine gradually filled Jane’s body. Watching the screen, she couldn’t tell its real size, but the man’s hand could barely encircle half its girth, and it was at least the length of four fists. The monster cock was now half way into her as the man began to pump it with a slow, steady rhythm. Jane heard her own voice begin to speak, then choke, then pant. The pace increased. With each stroke, the cock went in deeper, with each stroke Jane saw herself get hotter and more flushed. She was crying now on screen, begging for more. The invisible hand was providing. In and out the cock pumped and as she thrashed on the bed, Jane’s screen self was moaning loudly.

Suddenly the pumping stopped. The hand tried one more time to press the huge machine deeper into Jane but could advance no further. Jane’s eyes were bulging and her breathing hoarse. The voice appeared to ask her another question. Jane’s face, contorted with passion, whispered ‘Yes’. Immediately a low throbbing pulse began to be heard.

As the camera moved in closer, Jane saw in awe the vibrator begin to pulse. Its huge girth was increasing and decreasing with the beat of the pulse, and she saw her vagina stretch and contract as it throbbed. As she watched, her eyes widened as she thought in horror what the head must be doing inside her. The pulse quickened and the movement increased. A whirring noise told of electric motors running and as the throbbing increased in speed and intensity, Jane heard herself losing control. She was panting louder, and trying to cry out with each turn of the machine, but only a strangled gasp was audible. Her panting quickened with the increasing pulse and her body began to thrash around wildly on screen. The camera panned back, unable to keep pace with the increasingly wild bucking and thrashing of Jane’s back, arms and legs. A large wet patch on the bed beneath her hips was clearly visible and increasing in size as she built up to an even greater climax. 

The vibrator’s pulsing was even more obvious now, its sides visibly expanding more as the pitch increased. Jane watched closely as her on screen vagina stretched tighter and tighter. Suddenly she heard a loud scream and saw a thin stream of blood burst from the base of her vagina as she tore – just as he had torn giving birth to her daughter. Without realising it, she reached down between her own legs feeling the soreness of that tear, and found to her amazement that her panties were soaking wet. She felt disgusted with herself but could not stop watching the screen.

Her screen body bucked wildly, mixing the blood in with the wetness beneath her as Jane saw herself reach a shattering climax. Unable to speak, the camera saw her convulse as if with stomach cramps, them throw herself backwards, arms above her head, legs spread wider than Jane had ever been able to get them in gym class. Her on screen self appeared to pass out, her body falling limp on the bed, the huge vibrator buried to the hilt in her vagina, throbbing away to no further purpose.

The sound of the vibrator ceased. The now familiar hand could be seen taking hold of the end and, twisting slightly back and forth, pulling the monster from her body. A small wave of pink wetness followed it onto the bedclothes. The camera angle closed in on a grotesque gaping pussy, lips red and angry, clitoris swollen and erect, patches of wetness and blood on the skin. It passed up her body to her face, eyes closed, mouth open. The screen went blank.

Jane had watched herself in the action and the aftermath of the most incredible orgasm she had ever seen or imagined. She felt envious – but that was silly. She felt aroused. Suddenly, the video continued.

A new scene began. Jane was still apparently unconscious lying on her back up on the bed. Her legs were bent at the knees, splayed out to expose her most private parts. Gazing down on her inert body, she saw a simply enormous man. His skin, jet black and shiny, appeared to have been polished. His arms and legs were muscular to a high degree. His back was towards the camera, and Jane could see his powerful athletic build clearly. Although she normally didn’t go for the muscular type, she could well appreciate the perfection of his powerful body.

The camera angle changed as the man turned slightly. He was watching the crumpled form on the bed intently. Jane noticed he had the beginnings of an erection, and also that he appeared to be completely hairless. Smooth legs, no pubic hair, smooth chest and a shaven head – No Wait! – He was wearing a mask. As he turned, Jane could clearly see that his head and face were covered with what appeared to be a leather or latex mask. The mask stopped at his nose – his mouth was free – but identification was impossible. Jane realised that in any case she was quite certain she had never met a man of this powerful build before. She watched as his erection grew and grew.

At a word of command from the cameraman, the big man dropped to his knees between Jane’s legs. He gazed up at her unconscious face then, bending over, he opened his mouth and let the very tip of his tongue gently stroke Jane’s outer lips. The camera had zoomed in close and Jane could see her inert body beginning to twitch at the touch of his tongue. She did not, however, wake up, and the big man’s tongue now stroked her other tender lip. Again there was a twitch. Leaning closer in, the tongue lapped lightly at each the mouth of her vagina, always moving upwards from her moistening entrance towards her clitoris. Jane began to wriggle, both on screen and off screen as she watched. The delicate sensitivity of this man was extraordinary. Gradually her on screen image began to respond to his touch, apparently without waking. Contented guttural noises could be heard on the soundtrack, rising slowly in intensity. Her hips rocked gently from side to side, towards his active mouth and away again as the masterful tongue worked. After a short time the camera panned upwards show Jane’s opening eyes full of passion and heat again.

Realising his partner was now receptive, the big man made the strokes of his tongue firmer and more positive. Using the flat of his tongue, he worked his way inside her outer lips to rub its rough, warm surface against her sensitive inner parts. The camera was relentless in showing his tongue at work, and Jane’s gasps of pleasure could be clearly heard. Her hands reached down between her thighs to caress the man’s huge head. She paused, apparently surprised at the unfamiliar feel of the mask, then relaxed and held his head lightly between her palms. His licking became stronger and more determined now, both on her swelling lips and, increasingly with each stroke, working its way into her vagina. Deeper and deeper his tongue probed, and Jane’s moaning increased in volume. The camera rose to show Jane’s face, once again screwed up in pleasure, then back down to the man’s mask, then down further to his waist where a mighty erection was now in full bloom, its paler brown head contrasting with the thick ebony shaft, the enormous whole simply terrifying to the watching Jane.

Following another mumble and a silent nod from the on-screen Jane, the man’s mouth moved away from Jane’s vulva. His hands gripped her ankles and he effortlessly pulled her down the bed towards him. As her hips slipped over the edge of the bed, her legs fell open either side of his knees and without hesitation she slid smoothly down onto his massive waiting erection, impaling herself fully and deeply, not stopping until her shaven mound grasped the very base of his manhood. Her head was thrown back and her breath caught in her throat. She sat astride his lap, facing him, kneeling up over his own kneeling thighs. He held her sides in his hands. She put her hands on his shoulders. 

As if programmed, Jane’s body began to rise and fall as she slid herself up and down the dark shaft on which she was impaled. Her eyes closed again, and her head lolled about on her shoulders. She watched as her screen self began to grasp her breasts firmly in her hands, kneading them as she rode up and down. Rising, the camera abandoned its fixation with her hot vulva to highlight her firm, erect nipples distorted strangely by the tight grip of her hands.

More indistinct words were spoken and Jane jumped back from the screen as a big black hand smacked her recorded self hard on one buttock. The sound of the slap was clear and sharp. Jane heard herself yelp in surprise. Another blow fell, this time on the other cheek and the camera moved to show clear red handprints on her buttocks. Two more blows fell but on screen, Jane barely noticed, transported as she was by the rise and fall of her impaled body. Strong black hands grasped her breasts and gripped them cruelly. She whimpered, but carried on riding the huge black cock. The hands grasped her breasts harder, this time holding them so firmly that she was forced to stop moving. There was the voice in the background, and Jane looked up, disappointment showing on her face. There were more sounds and a smile replaced the disappointed expression. Jane lifted one leg up, and released the huge black shaft from her body. It slipped out, lying long, wet and shiny on the man’s thighs. Jane turned around and, falling on all fours, presented herself backwards to the big man. She looked over her shoulder as he knelt behind her. 

Kneeling behind her, the big man held the tip of his cock against Jane’s body and slid himself once again into her gaping, welcoming pussy, his whole length entering with a single stroke. A stifled scream could be heard.

The camera moved around to show Jane’s face, taking in every expression as his thrusts began. At first she seemed shocked by his size and the depth he reached. Her face was screwed up in pain, but after a few seconds, the grimace was replaced by obvious pleasure. He began to pump in earnest. Jane watched herself spread her arms forwards and grip the floor rug to brace her body against his pounding weight. Sounds of his body striking hers – loud, wet slaps - were clearly audible on the film, as were her increasing moans of pleasure as his pace and depth increased. After another command from ‘the voice’ he began to smack her buttocks again as his relentless pounding of her vagina continued. The camera moved close in on her face, and Jane saw herself, still dreamy eyed, twisted up with passion, completely given over to lust.

She recognised the sounds of herself approaching orgasm, but before she could reach her climax, the big man slowed down almost to a stop. Her screen self called out “Don’t stop. Please!” and the camera angle changed once more, retuning to her pussy. As the big black shaft slid very slowly in and out of her, a long black finger could be seen pressing against her exposed anus. Jane gasped as she watched. No anal virgin, she remembered how painful this could be. She saw in close up her sphincter contract tightly beneath his probing finger, then yield slightly as the increased pressure from the finger broke through her resistance. The finger slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, then rotated back and forth in her anus. Below, the big black shaft moved relentlessly in and out of her vagina.

Holding her breath, Jane watched motionless as she remembered what it had felt like her first time. The thrill of the penetration; the excitement of feeling your perineum stretched and stimulated from both sides. She wished she could see her face on the screen, but frustratingly only her bottom was in shot. The first finger was now joined by a second one. Another guttural noise could be heard and her on-screen body froze, the two fingers moved slowly in and out of her. The big man then spread them apart as he deliberately stretched her anus open. Watching closely, Jane knew inside what was coming next. Her body’s soreness told her in no uncertain terms what had happened.

As she looked on, the huge black shaft was pulled out of Jane’s pussy. It glistened with her juices. Its length was wiped across her waiting anus, leaving a sticky wetness all around it. Then its massive head was pressed firmly against her tight opening. Jane tried to look away, but her gaze was drawn back to the screen. She saw her sphincter try and resist again, but then yield quickly to the pressure and the large brown head popped inside her. A cry of alarm could be heard, followed by a load gasp. The big man began to rock gently forward and backwards, holding Jane’s body by the waist. With each movement, he slid deeper into her, the camera revealing every millimetre of progress. 

Jane again wanted to see her face, wanting to know if she was enjoying this, but the cameraman seemed intent on frustrating her. With increasingly passionate noises from the on-screen Jane, the man inched deeper and deeper into her rectum, her anus stretching tighter and tighter until finally his entire massive length was inside her. 

He began to pump. Starting slowly, then increasing his pace, he began to slide in and out of her rectum. The sight was incredible to Jane, who had hated her own experience of anal sex, but who was now clearly loving every second of it on screen. The man’s pace quickened and her cries of passion grew louder. 

“Fuck Me!” she heard. “Hurt Me!” The camera moved to face her head on. She saw her own contorted face again, her still eyes dull and dreamy; her body propped up on all fours still, her breasts hanging down. Jane watched herself take one hand off the floor and pinch one nipple hard with her fingers. Her face screwed up. She pinched the other. The voice spoke again. 

Without leaving her body, the big man leaned back on his knees, pulling Jane bodily towards him, his enormous strength lifting them both onto the bed. The camera presented the fantastic sight of Jane kneeling astride him, her ass impaled on his shaft, her nipples looking red, but firm and erect. The big man leaned back and supported himself on his outstretched stretched arms. Jane leaned back against his chest. The camera dropped to waist level as the massive vibrator was again passed to her. She looked up, puzzled. The voice spoke. “Really?” she replied, sounding pleased, her voice still slurry and slightly drunk.

With the big man’s cock still inside her ass, Jane slowly slid the vibrator into her vagina. It was very big, but she had already been stretched and was at the peak of passion. First its head disappeared, then inch by inch the shaft. At length, the whole monstrous thing was within her. Jane could not believe it as she watched. She had never done anything like this before, and was sure she would be badly hurt. 

But wait! Wasn’t the fact she was here watching proof that she had survived?

With a shaft in each passage, Jane’s on screen self was uncontrollable. Gasping for breath, she rode the big black cock behind her in apparent ecstasy. The base of the vibrator could be seen protruding from her pussy, and then a hand appeared and touched something on it. The sound of a small electric motor rang out once again, and Jane’s screen self began to buck wildly, her chest flushed a blotchy pink, her face red and contorted once more. Her thrashing grew wilder and wilder, her moans louder and louder.

Almost choked by her approaching climax, she began to moan and grunt incoherently. Gurgling noises emanated from her throat as she grasped her breasts roughly in both hands and twisted them cruelly again and again. The voice spoke. “Yes! Yes!” she responded, and Jane watched horrified as she saw herself lift her breasts to her mouth and bite them hard. Again she bit herself, screamed aloud then let them fall free, to swing wildly with her increasingly violent movements. 

The sound of a briefcase opening could be heard, and an unseen hand passed Jane a ruler. Thrashing wildly, her on screen self began to beat her own body with the ruler, slapping her thighs and breasts with it as she slid up and down the black shaft, her pussy throbbing with the pulse of the vibrator. The blows were hard, leaving long red marks. Her thighs and breasts were angry and raw. 

“God! Finish me now!” she cried out in desperation.

The voice spoke once again. “Yes!” replied Jane. “Anything! Anything! But make it now! I can’t take any more!” 

Her body, exhausted and racked with passion, had one last big surprise to spring. The hand appeared, passing her a long, thick needle with a handle and a champagne cock. She took one in each hand. The hand twisted the controller on the vibrator further and the pulse quickened. The camera moved closer in. In extreme close up the large black shaft could be seen pounding her anus and from her vagina the end of the monster vibrator, pulsing more strongly, stretched her wider and wider. Jane’s croaking voice could be heard panting

“Anything. Anything!” 

She rubbed her clitoris frantically with the cork. Swollen and engorged, it protruded firm and erect from her pussy lips. She placed the tip of the long, hollow needle against its right side and held the cork against its left. “Help me!” she called out. A hand reached out and pulled her aching clitoris firmly forwards, stretching it tight as her body heaved up and down, throbbing and moaning aloud to the beat of the vibrator

And then she did it. The screen went into slow motion – or was it Jane’s mind as she watched? At a touch, the vibrator stopped pulsing in her vagina. The black cock stopped moving in her ass. There was a moment of silence and stillness in which Jane knelt upright, panting. 

Jane trapped her clitoris firmly between the needle and the cork, her elbows extended sideways, her eyes closed. She paused, her chest heaving as she panted. She opened her eyes and looked directly into the camera, which descended to show in extreme close up the sharp point pressing firmly against her moist red clit, stretched tightly by the mysterious gloved hand. 

Then with a mighty heave of her shoulders her chest and biceps flexed and with all her strength she forced the needle cleanly through her clitoris, embedding its point deep in the champagne cork. 

The camera panned back. Jane looked down in bizarre triumph at what she had done. Back to extreme close up again, Jane saw the long thin needle passing transfixing through her most sensitive part. She looked up at the camera again. 

Her eyes misted over, their whites showed. She passed out.

The camera kept rolling. In the hotel room, Jane watched in stunned silence. Slowly the big black man withdrew himself from her limp body. He moved around between her thighs and with a tenderness not to be expected of one so large, carefully removed the cork and delicately slid the needle back through and out of her wounded clitoris. He gently slid the silent vibrator out of her vagina and a few drops of blood fell onto the once white sheets. The camera panned back once again as he removed his black leather mask and cast it aside. The black shiny skin of the back of his head contrasted sharply with the whiteness of Jane’s skin and the rumpled sheet below. 

Back in extreme close up, his large hands could be seen taking a bright gold ring from beside the bed. Pausing, he carefully threaded it through the lightly bleeding hole in Jane’s clitoris and, with a drop of what looked like super glue, locked it firmly closed. In font of the screen, Jane watched spellbound, transfixed, her fingers firmly between her legs, involuntarily touching the ring.

On screen the big man gently closed Jane’s unresisting legs together, and rolled her over on the bed. He bent over her limp body and, placing a single kiss on her left buttock, went out of camera shot.

The screen went dark. Jane stared motionless at its blackness, unable to move, trying to come to terms with what she had seen herself do. Suddenly the screen sprang to life. A message appeared.

‘This film would make me $100,000 if published and would destroy your career. If you want to stop it being published, I want $250,000 in cash. What’s that compared with the bright future awaiting you? Signal your acceptance by e-mail to me before Friday.’ 

Anger like she had never known washed over her.
