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Subject: {ASSM} RP: "Natural Selection 6" by The StoryMaster [M+~F+,nc] 1/1
Date: Fri, 28 Apr 2000 00:11:15 -0400
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The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
_______________________________________________________
Natural Selection - by - The StoryMaster - Part Six
"Good afternoon ladies." The Host paused briefly. "And gentlemen, of
course," he continued magnanimously. He smiled a crooked little
smile.
The female members of his audience remained silent. A few murmurs
came from the men standing behind them.
The Host gazed down the row of twenty-nine beautiful, young women.
"By now, you no doubt realize that none of you will be attending the
National Cheerleading Competition. A pity, and I'm sure you'll be
missed," he said with mock sympathy. "On the other hand, I believe
that the considerable talents that each of you will soon demonstrate
will serve as invaluable contributions to our noble cause."
This had to be the most ambitious project yet for the team of
Hunter-gatherers in the direct employ of the Facility, and as hoped,
the collection process had gone flawlessly. During a scheduled stop
for breakfast at the IHOP on East Marlow, the bus driver was subdued
in the restroom. A Hunter-gatherer who looked very much like him
quickly donned the regular driver's uniform, who was left bound and
gagged in a locked bathroom stall. Sitting in the driver's seat of
the big charter bus, the imposter driver looked on approvingly as the
twenty-nine young ladies lined up, climbed the boarding stairs and
took their seats. The attending chaperones, were also taken in by his
disguise. One of them actually stood right beside him and called off
the roll, dutifully checking in each of her charges on the manifest.
After pulling out of the parking lot, the bus headed west on Marlow
Ave. in route to the turnpike. No one noticed, however, when the
driver took an unscheduled right turn on Third St. Shortly afterward
he donned his portable oxygen mask, reached down beside his seat and
opened the valve on the hidden canister of anesthetic gas. The fast
acting compound was picked up by the bus' air conditioning system and
quickly dispersed throughout the cabin. The unsuspecting passengers
were unconscious before they knew what had hit them.
The Greyhound bus proved easier to conceal than anyone would have
guessed. The bus with its precious cargo was driven to a warehouse
which had been reconnoitered months ago and had been determined to be
ideal for the operation. Once inside the dilapidated building, the
bus was quickly unloaded. The four chaperones were bound, gagged and
left aboard, while the Chelsea Women's College Championship
Cheerleading Squad was carefully loaded into seven nondescript
transport vans. Within minutes the vans were heading via several
widely divergent routes, delivering their cargo to a new life.
"I want to take this opportunity to welcome you to our family," the
Host continued, gazing from one lovely face to the next. Each was
filled with expressions ranging from apprehension to outright
hostility. "It is unusual for us to welcome such a large number of
new Guests at one time, and as a result we have had to forgo some of
our regular induction and initiation programs. On the other hand, I
feel certain that the gentlemen standing behind you will do everything
in their power to make your initiation into our fold a memorable one."
He noticed expressions of puzzlement and confusion.
"Let me take a moment to explain why it is you are here." He paused
in thought. "You ladies are about to begin a journey. It will be a
difficult one for many of you at first, but eventually we know that
you will succeed and even prosper. My dears, you are about to become
representatives of a new order of Renaissance Female." He paused
again for dramatic effect and to see what effect his words were having
upon his lovely audience. "You should all be very proud," he
continued. "Through your personal efforts and contributions, mankind
will take one more small step backwards." He smiled at his witticism.
Then he held up a hand as if to fend off questions. "I use the word
`backward' only figuratively. In reality, we at the Facility are
endeavoring to move forward toward a better, more natural way of life
with regards to the way our partners and mates are chosen."
That statement caused some eyes to widen. Some furtive, sidelong
glances were exchanged among a few of the members of the cheerleading
squad.
He smiled, then continued in a casual tone of voice. "For several
generations now, young girls have been carefully taught by their
mothers who've been carefully taught by their mothers just exactly how
to `land a man'. They've been taught to pick and choose. They've
been taught to deceive and to manipulate in order to pick what they
feel is a proper mate. You young ladies have no doubt fallen prey to
this sort of indoctrination." Again he paused. "Each of you are the
very embodiment of the `thoroughbred female'; the most attractive, the
most charming, the most seductive, and therefore, undoubtably the most
cunning. There is little doubt in my mind that each and every one of
you have, at one time or another, made the conscious decision to dash
the hopes and dreams of a perfectly suitable, but not overly
attractive potential suitor in exchange for the attentions of some
dark-eyed Adonis."
He looked from one pair of beautiful, clear eyes to the next.
"I'm right, aren't I?" he said with a knowing smile. Then clearing
his throat, he continued in a more professional tone of voice. "I
want you all to understand from the beginning, that no one here blames
you for the way you are. We understand that you are all products of
your upbringing and of your environment. Society has placed you upon
a pedestal as the alpha-female, untouchable and unobtainable. We, at
the Facility, offer you a means whereby you can amend society's
indiscretions. The conditioning we shall provide you with will enable
each of you to make a meaningful contribution toward a more equitable
system of procreation, a more natural selection process, if you will."
After one final pause he said, "So, with no further ado, let's get
started, shall we?" Moving from behind the lectern, he walked toward
a drop dead, gorgeous blond positioned in the center of the row of
apprehensive, young women. Behind the blond stood a tall, rather
brutish middle-aged gentleman. Stepping directly in front of the
distressed girl, the Host looked to his left then to his right saying,
"You may begin, gentlemen." Then turning his attentions to the pretty
blond he said, "And how are you this afternoon, young lady?"
Darcy was very frightened. They were all obviously in the hands of a
mad man. She was determined, though, not to let her fear show as she
gazed defiantly back into the dark eyes of the one she assumed was the
leader of this asylum. The man standing behind her cleared his
throat.
Although things looked rather bleak at this point in time, Darcy felt
if she could maintain a posture of confidence, that sooner or later an
opportunity would arise in which she might gain the advantage. "After
all," she thought. "He's just a man; a homely one at that, and men
are all malleable." She'd certainly used her charms on more than one
occasion in her life to get what she wanted. With an air of
determination, Darcy awaited her fate.
"You are very lovely, my dear," the Host said. Unexpectedly he
reached out and stroked Darcy's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
She jerked away reflexively. The man behind her put his hands on her
shoulders in an effort to restrain her. Darcy twisted her body
suddenly, and although her wrists were bound to the back of her neck,
she managed to catch the large man unawares with her right elbow to
the side of his jaw. He grunted in surprise.
After regaining his composure, "You'll pay for that, sweet cakes!" he
growled from just behind Darcy's ear.
"Patience, my good friend. Patience," the Host cautioned. "You two
will have plenty of time to get to know one another in a short while.
Darcy heard a squeal from somewhere to her left. She turned quickly
and looked down the row of captive young women. "My poor friends,"
Darcy thought, her heart going out to her teammates. "How did this
ever happen?" she asked herself. She felt the Host's hand on her face
again. "Mmoh!" Darcy moaned through the piece of surgical tape that
covered her lips. Her head snapped around, and she shot daggers out
of her brown eyes in the direction of her assailant. The man simply
smiled back at her. It was thoroughly enraging.
More muffled squeals...
Stan was a return Client. He stood behind his intended, waiting
patiently while the host finished his orientation speech. He gazed
lustfully at the shining tumult of chestnut hair that cascaded down
her back, then at her slim waist and lovely, spreading hips. Soon she
would be his.
To Darcy's left and to her right the Clients stepped from behind their
respective partners. Sheers were produced, and the men began to
unwrap their prizes. The girls began to squirm and squeal. Some
twisted their supple bodies, attempting to thwart the efforts of their
male companions. Muffled shrieks accompanied the ripping sounds of
clothing being torn asunder.
The members of the Chelsea Women's College Championship Cheerleading
Squad had not been prepared in the usual manner. Indeed, none of them
had been touched at all until now. The girls had not been wearing
their teem uniforms at the time of their abduction, so they were all
still dressed in their "street clothes". The uniforms, however, had
been retrieved by a thoughtful Associate who'd felt they might be
useful at a later time.
Twenty-nine heavy steel mounting bases stood in a row in the Great
Hall of the Facility. To each, a young woman was attached by her
ankles with leather restraint cuffs, effectively spreading her legs to
just beyond shoulder width. In the center of the mounting bases was a
socket into which a vertical center strut could be placed. The
specialized struts could then be fitted with a variety of appliances
designed for vaginal and/or anal insertion. Today, however, the
struts were being omitted in favor of a new concept that was the brain
child of one of the more technically minded Associates currently in
the employ of the Facility. This clever individual realized that with
her feet restrained at the ankles, the simple addition of two-part
splints to immobilize the knee joints would render the occupant of the
mount virtually powerless to escape. A female, so restrained could
twist her body within limits, and she could bend at the waist. She
could not, however, kneel or fall down without running the risk of
breaking both of her ankles. All that remained was to restrain the
upper extremities. This was also accomplished quite efficiently. A
wide, nylon collar covered with black velvet for esthetic purposes was
placed around the neck of each young lady. Her wrists were then
attached to a stainless steel ring on the collar at the back of her
neck. Everyone was most pleased to see just how simple this form of
restraint really was. Using this method the Guests could be
restrained effectively, and the system had the additional advantage
over the old-style vaginal mounts in that it freed up both of her
openings.
Stan grinned at the struggling teenager. She'd just missed elbowing
him in the face. He'd been warned that the new restraint system had
its inherent liabilities. On the other hand, the increased access
that the splint system afforded, more than made up for its few
shortcomings. Stan enjoyed a fight anyway. The girl's dark eyes
flashed with white hot rage when he tugged the tails of her blouse out
of her tight jeans. He ducked another attempted blow when she twisted
sharply to the right. She was definitely a scrapper.
"Uuuhhh... Oooo... [Fuck You]!" she shrieked from behind the tape over
her mouth.
"Now you be nice, sweetheart. You and I are gonna be real good
friends real soon," Stan said as he yanked the tails of the bouse
violently apart, causing a staccato of pearl buttons to rain down on
the floor.
She looked to be around eighteen years old, maybe nineteen. Stan had
immediately been drawn to her, mostly because of her long, shining
hair, and she, like all of the other twenty-eight members of the
Chelsea Women's College Championship Cheerleading Squad was graced
with stunning good looks. In addition, she was extremely strong, and
put up a commendable fight given the circumstances. She no doubt got
a lot of regular exercise.
Stan wondered what her name might be as he fought with her in an
effort to unfasten her brazier.
The Host had promised that the girls' names would be revealed just as
soon as the staff could sort through their belongings and compare
identification documents with the charter company's passenger
manifest.
The two stubborn hooks between the cups of the brazier let go at last,
and Stan found himself staring at two utterly magnificent breasts.
They were full and firm and perfectly shaped ,and they bobbed and
shook enticingly as she continued to struggled.
"These jeans are gonna be a little harder," Stan muttered. Then
looking up at the unhappy girl he murmured, "Unless, that is, you
think you might want to cooperate a little bit, sweetheart. Stan'll
make things real nice for you, if you're a good girl, you know." He
grinned lewdly. Her brown eyes practically vibrated with hostility as
she stared directly into Stan's eyes. She appeared to be momentarily
paralyzed with rage. Stan seized the opportunity to ram both hands
into the front of her designer jeans. Then with what proved to be a
highly effective move, Stan simultaneously twisted and pulled causing
the tenacious top button to let go. His brown eyed girl was too
astounded to react in time, and Stan was able to shuck the black denim
over her sumptuous hips and down to the knee splints.
The girl shrieked once again when Stan went to work on the jeans with
a pair of EMT shears. `They always hate it when you cut their
clothes,' Stan thought as he quickly reduced the expensive jeans to
tatters. He was pleased to find how easily he was able to remove the
two pieces of her pant legs that remained beneath the splints. It was
a very promising restraint system, indeed.
The girl continued to wrench her torso violently from side to side,
and with each twist, Stan was forced to duck beneath her flying
elbows. "Easy, baby," he chuckled as he began to cut away the girl's
blouse. "You're gonna want to save some of that energy for later on."
The bra straps fell next to his scissors and soon the young beauty
stood before Stan wearing nothing but a pair of white panties.
As a rule, the Host never fraternized with the Guests while they were
on display. On occasion he would take a young lady who happened to
strike his fancy to his private quarters where he would get to know
her. This afternoon, however, he had been drawn to the lovely blond
on the center mount with an almost magnetic intensity. "She is indeed
extraordinary. Her eyes are like pools of liquid bronze," the Host
thought to himself as he gazed into the widely staring windows to her
soul. He could see the fear in her eyes. He could also see the
courage and the confidence. "This one will take a lot of work and a
lot of time," he remarked to himself. "But then, we have all the time
in the world."
He knew that the girls would never be located. His operation was
flawless, his security impenetrable. No traces of the abduction had
been left. The Chelsea Women's College Championship Cheerleading
Squad would not be seen again until he was ready to release them back
into society, but that would be months from now, depending on how
quickly the young ladies acclimated to their new responsibilities.
Darcy's confidence was being sorely taxed. All around her came the
sounds of her teammates in distress, and still the horrible man stared
at her in silence. To her right Darcy heard Jill Prescott, one of her
best friends, wail pitifully through taped lips. Her cry was soon
followed by the rhythmic slapping sound of flesh against flesh.
Without looking, Darcy knew that Jill was being raped where she stood.
Without removing his gaze from hers, the man in charge smiled and
said, "It looks like one of your teammates has made a new friend." He
saw the pupils of her brown eyes contract to pin pricks. He'd struck
a nerve. "Go ahead, my dear," he cooed. "Take a look. I know you
want to. Go on, have a look. Your friend won't mind, I assure you.
She's, ahhh, shall we say, preoccupied at the moment anyway." He
grinned wickedly.
Darcy felt sick to her stomach. The entire room now resounded with
muted groans and squeals accompanied from time to time by the
complimentary remarks of the girls' new found soul mates. The Host
continued to stare at her. As Darcy steadfastly returned his gaze,
she fought with the urge to look in Jill's direction. Then from her
right, Darcy heard a long, low groan. The fleshy slapping stopped
abruptly. Darcy couldn't stand it any longer. She had to look.
The man with Jill was tall, perhaps six and a half feet. He was pale
and thin and had huge hands. Just as Darcy turned her head the tall
man reached under her friend's arms and grasped her smallish breasts
in his frog-like hands. While Darcy looked on in horror, the tall man
pulled her friend's graceful body back against his chest. Then, as he
bent his knees, Darcy witnessed several inches of thin, white penile
shaft come into view from between Jill's shapely buttocks. It
glistened with moisture. The man with Jill murmured into her friend's
ear loudly enough that Darcy could plainly hear him say, "That's my
girl. I knew you'd like it. Cum for me now, baby. Cum for me." He
straightened his long legs and Darcy watched the pale shaft disappear
as he re-established himself inside of her best friend.
It was then that Darcy really noticed Jill's appearance. Her blue
eyes were open, but her gaze seemed unfocused. The otherwise milky,
white skin of Jill's shoulders and neck were flushed a rosy shade of
pink. Darcy saw the muscles of the man's skinny ass flex. Jill's
eyes opened wider still and her nostrils flared. Darcy watched the
man's butt muscles flex and relax slowly, again and again. Meanwhile
he kneaded Jill's breasts rhythmically with his big amphibian hands.
Bending his head, he nibbled at the pretty girl's slim neck and
whispered into her ear, but Darcy couldn't make out what he was saying
anymore.
Darcy was astounded when Jill slowly leaned her head back against her
rapist's left shoulder. "Oh, my God! No, Jillie!" Darcy's mind cried
when she saw her friend's supple hips begin to rock slowly from side
to side.
Jillian Prescott had always been the quiet, demure type, but as Darcy
looked on in disbelief, the pretty blond began to react to her lover's
attentions. Suddenly Jill slammed her head back against the man's
pale chest. At the same time Darcy saw her shapely rear end press
back hard against her lover's skinny thighs. Her body stiffened, and
she started to tremble noticeably.
"Oh, Jillie," Darcy cried silently as she watched her friend have her
first obvious orgasm. Again, Darcy felt sick, but just as she was
about to look away, the tall man caught her eye and winked. Darcy was
mortified. "How could her friend react in such a manner?" Darcy felt
hope slip a little farther away.
When, after a moment, Darcy looked back in his direction, the Host was
still staring at her, his expression thoughtful. At last he spoke.
"You're puzzled by your friend's unexpected reaction to Alan's
attentions?" he stated rhetorically, as if he could read her mind.
Darcy lowered her gaze, but quickly looked back up.
"She had to be strong!" Darcy reminded herself.
"It's not at all unusual for a young woman to enter into a
relationship unwillingly in the beginning only to become a participant
in the end," he explained. "We see it time and time again here at the
Facility. It's quite instinctive, you see." He paused and stared
into Darcy's brown eyes. "No modern day, socially conditioned woman
would ever admit nor wish to believe that given the proper stimulation
for the right amount of time, she will eventually climax no matter the
circumstances of her coupling."
Darcy was outraged by what she heard. It was the old myth about women
who are raped secretly enjoying it. It was nothing more than a sick
male fantasy, Darcy knew. "And yet?" she reluctantly had to admit
that not moments ago, one of her very best friends, a girl Darcy
thought she knew so well, had experienced a powerful orgasm at the
hands of an attacker. The thought was very unsettling.
"As a matter of fact, young lady, just look around you. It is this
fact upon which we base our entire program of conditioning; that all
women will inevitably succumb to sexual excitation if the proper
approach is utilized." The man beamed magnanimously.
Darcy looked slowly around the horrid chamber. A cold chill ran down
her spine when she realized that she was the only member of her squad
who was not currently entertaining a man. Farther down the row to
Darcy's right, a girl with long chestnut hair was bent over at the
waist. It was Karen Mills. The man behind her was slamming himself
into the defenseless girl unmercifully. Darcy noticed a pool of vomit
on the floor in front of poor Karen. To Darcy's left a tremendously
large and hairy man was having his way with Erin Wilder.
Erin was a tall, slender girl of twenty. She had long, practically
jet black hair, pale white skin and the most incredible flashing,
emerald green eyes. "Poor Erin," Darcy thought. The girl was engaged
to be married to a wealthy, young money manager, but Erin's fianc
would simply have to wait his turn as her current lover had other
plans for the winsome girl. The huge man stood in front of the slim,
green eyed beauty, his body pressed tightly against hers, belly to
belly, and as Darcy looked on in disgust, his tree trunk thighs flexed
rhythmically. With one hand spread across Erin's bottom, he held her
against his groin, while with his other big paw, he grasped the ring
at the back of the collar around her neck, forcing the unfortunate
girl to look him in the eye while he made love to her. A barely
noticeable trickle of pinkish fluid ran down the inside of the girl's
left thigh. Erin Wilder had been saving herself for her husband to
be.
"As you can see," the Host said, interrupting Darcy's dark thoughts.
"All of your teammates are being well taken care of." He paused.
Darcy looked at him and instantly noticed the change in his demeanor.
His previously accommodating mannerisms had become more
"business-like". Darcy gazed at him apprehensively.
"As a rule, I don't fraternize with the Guests," he said
matter-of-factly. At the same time he reached for Darcy. Keeping his
dark eyes locked to her's the man began to unbutton her pale, blue
linen blouse. Darcy resisted the urge to shrink away from him. She
would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. In addition,
she felt the monster standing behind her move closer, pressing his
body against hers. "From time to time, however, a special young lady
will catch my eye," the man explained. Darcy felt the sickening
warmth of his fingers against the smooth skin of her tummy as he
unfastened the last button. "You are such a girl, my dear." He
stared into Darcy's deep brown eyes as he deftly parted the blouse,
exposing her brazier. She shivered slightly when the cool room air
struck the bare skin of her chest and belly. "Excellent," he thought
to himself. "She didn't resist. She has remarkable self-control."
He looked forward to their battle of wills and to Darcy's inevitable
fall.
Darcy steeled herself when he reached for her bra. It took every bit
of her will power to resist the "fight or flight" reflex. As his
finger tips slipped behind her brazier and between the two soft cups
which supported her luscious breasts, she stared into his eyes.
Mentally she castrated the man over and over again. The cups of the
brazier fell to the side.
"Mmmmm!" Darcy moaned reflexively when he first touched her. She
searched his face for any signs of compassion as his fingers began to
knead her breasts. Darcy winced slightly when he pinched her nipples
experimentally.
"Very nice," he remarked. "I'm sure that these have opened a few
doors for you, my dear." He winked at Darcy. He busied himself with
her breasts for another minute or two then looking past the captive
young woman he said to the man behind her, "I hope you don't mind if I
indulge myself for awhile. I won't be long, I promise."
The man had been feeling a bit left out. Looking around he too
noticed that all of the other Clients were enjoying the charms of the
captive audience. He was tremendously excited by the gorgeous blond
who stood before him. His entire life he'd fantasized about being
with a girl like this, and now he was so close he could taste it. "I
suppose I can wait a little longer," he resolved, then nodded his
consent to his Host.
Returning his gaze to his quarry, the Host released Darcy's shapely
breasts and dropped his hands to her waist. "You don't see wrap
around skirts that much any more," he commented nonchalantly as he
fumbled at Darcy's left hip for the hidden catch. "An excellent
design, I've always thought. So easy to remove." His smile was very
disturbing. The skirt fell to the floor. "Oh my goodness, gracious,
my dear girl!" the Host said hoarsely as he stopped to admire his
handiwork. "You certainly are a beauty. I'm sure that many a good
man has fallen prey to you, my dear." Then as a second thought he
added, "But your days of seduction are over, young lady."
Darcy felt like a slut, standing there in nothing but her panties. It
was tremendously humiliating. Her blouse and brazier hung open from
her shoulders, but that wasn't what held her captor's attention at the
moment. Darcy felt a blush rise unbidden as the Host stared
unabashedly at her crotch. Behind the thin cotton panel of her Jockey
Brand panties rose a most enticing mound. Darcy knew that her pussy
was pleasing to look at. On those occasions when she'd made a bad
choice and ended up with a man who liked to talk dirty to her, she'd
received numerous unwanted compliments.
Darcy's mind briefly wandered away from the horror she faced.
Considering the predicament she and her friends were in, Darcy thought
that she was handling herself pretty well. So far she'd met her
attacker's' advances with poise and determination. In spite of her
situation, Darcy felt she was putting on a good face for womanhood in
general.
It was then that the Host slid his hand into her panties. Instantly
Darcy's bold, "Joan of Ark" facade crumbled to be replaced by the
vulnerable little girl, and much to her chagrin, she knew that her
abductor knew as well.
In fact, as if to remove all doubt, he smiled and said, "There's my
little girl. I knew she was in there."
There is something about being handled against her will that most
females find difficult to deal with at first. Darcy was no exception,
and although she had bravely endured his advances until now, she now
found herself jerking her hips back abruptly in an effort to escape
the Host's attentions. It didn't take Darcy long to realize just how
effective the restraint system that bound her really was. The knee
splints allowed her only limited motion, and with her feet held in
place, the Host was easily able to follow Darcy's attempts to escape.
The big man behind her also pressed his groin against her firm
buttocks, further hindering her movement.
The Host quickly discovered that Darcy was marvelously firm and
resilient beneath a seemingly sparse covering of tight curls. At
times he did enjoy the feel of a soft pubic bush against his palm, but
for the most part he preferred his young ladies shaved. They were so
much easier to keep clean that way, for one thing. He slipped a
finger between Darcy's ample labia majora. She squealed from behind
the tape. When he looked into her eyes, icy loathing was plainly
visible. The Host also saw the first glimmer of the Inward Stare as
Darcy followed the progress of his probing digit with her mind's eye.
There was little doubt that the Host knew just where to touch a girl.
Darcy squirmed, desperately trying to hinder his examination of her
most intimate flesh. She tried to clamp her knees together, but of
course the restraint system prevented her from doing so.
"Mmmmmmm..." she moaned helplessly as the man continued to explore
between her trembling thighs. Her whimpering cry got his attention.
"There, there," the Host cooed condescendingly. "What happened to
that brave young woman who was here just a minute ago?" He chuckled
as he rubbed Darcy rhythmically. "I told you, the little girl always
comes out in the end." He gazed into Darcy's eyes while with his
middle finger, he entered her.
"Gmmmm..." came Darcy's muted groan. Her nostrils flared, and her
head rocked back, striking the other man's shoulder behind her.
"Is this your first time, sweetheart?" he murmured. "Is this the
first time you've been taken by a man? I'll bet it is." He began to
slowly finger fuck Darcy.
Darcy's brown eyes locked onto his. They were wide and staring as she
shook her head pleadingly. "Mmm.. Mmm.." she whimpered from behind
the tape. "Mmm.. Mmm.."
"Oh yes, honey. Oh yes," he countered with a sinister whisper, his
mouth so close to hers that Darcy felt his breath on her lips.
Instinctively, she leaned her head back, and again she felt the other
man behind her.
Darcy had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in her life. A medley
of emotions raced wildly through her mind. Terror, humiliation,
loathing, rage. She had precious little time for reflection, however,
as events began to move ahead more quickly.
After removing his hand from Darcy's panties, the Host knelt down in
front of her. "Let's take these down," he muttered, grasping the
elastic waist band of her Jockeys. Darcy glanced down at him as the
Host stripped her panties down to the tops of the knee splints which
bound her legs, stretching the small cotton briefs as tight as a
guitar string. "Now there's a sight to move mountains," the Host said
approvingly as he stared at Darcy's crotch.
Darcy looked away as he reached for her again.
"Lovely. Simply lovely, my dear girl," the Host proclaimed as he
deftly ran his finger tips over the tight curls covering Darcy's ample
vulva.
Darcy shut her eyes tightly and tried to steel herself against the
Host's attentions. Just then, however, the man standing behind her
placed his big hands on either side of her slender waist, then slowly
moved them upward over her warm skin and under the tails of her
blouse. He leaned over and whispered something unintelligible as his
hands closed over Darcy's perfect breasts.
Darcy jerked her upper body abruptly, trying again to strike him with
her elbows, but he was too close to her now, and held her too tightly
in his encircling arms. In front of her. the Host continued to toy
with her pubic area, gently tugging at her curls with his finger tips
as he felt between Darcy's muscular thighs.
"You are indeed a lovely child, my dear," the Host murmured. Darcy
stared down at him as the big man behind her massaged her breasts.
She felt the heat of his body against hers and the hardness behind his
trousers when he pressed against her back side. "You and your friends
are a very refreshing addition to our little family. I'm sure that
all of you will be quite popular. So..." he said, standing slowly.
"I think it's about time that we gave you a proper welcome." His
smile turned cold. "I'm certain that our friend here agrees." He
nodded to the man who embraced Darcy. The big man squeezed her
breasts, causing Darcy to wince.
"I'm curious, my dear," the Host continued casually. "Have you ever
been with two men at once? You know, a love triangle, a menage et
trois." He smiled craftily. Darcy returned his smile with a venemous
look. "Now, now," he said. "No need for hostility, my dear. I'm
certain that a girl of your obvious charms has taken the opportunity
to play one man against another in their bid for acceptance by you.
Why it's almost a given with you "Alpha Girls". It's part of the
maternal training program."
The man behind Darcy pinched her nipples unexpectedly, causing her to
wince.
"Why I don't think there's am attractive woman alive today who hasn't
played the triangle game at least once in her life." He gazed at
Darcy almost thoughtfully. He could see in her eyes that he'd struck
the mark. "I'm sure your mother instructed you as a young girl to
`shop around'. Compare strengths and weaknesses. I can hear her now,
telling you that you're so pretty you can have any man you want. Take
your time. Be discriminating. Choose the perfect man." He paused
long enough to let the truth of his words sink in. "My dear girl," he
continued. "I have good news for you. No longer will you be faced
with those kinds of choices. You'll not need to worry your pretty
head ever again about whether or not `he's the one'. We are going to
show you a new freedom and a new happiness. After today, every man
will be the perfect man. Every day of your stay with us, a new Prince
Charming will come to sweep you off your feet."
Darcy blinked and continued to stare at the mad man before her. What
he was saying was utter insanity. Darcy was very frightened.
"And as for the triangle game," the Host went on. "We're going to
introduce you to a new adaptation of that right now. I think you're
going to enjoy this triangle, my dear, because you shall be its apex,
and this kindly gentleman and I, its base, just like those pyramids
you do when you lead a cheer."
Darcy's brown eyes widened as she finally realized what the Host was
insinuating. Unconsciously she began to shake her head slowly from
side to side.
"Now don't let's be negative, my dear," the Host said with a chuckle.
"After all, you're going to be the center of attention. Isn't that
what you enjoy most in life? To have all eyes and thoughts upon you?
Well just look around you, girl. Your friends are all here. I'm sure
they will want to watch if their not too busy."
Darcy was stunned. She was so gripped by anxiety, in fact, that she
barely noticed when the big man behind her dropped his hands from her
breasts. Had she been so inclined as to look, Darcy would have
noticed that the flawless, white skin of those two impeccable orbs was
now flushed pink, and the satiny nipples at their tips, puckered and
taught. Around her the sounds of love making continued unabated as
the rest of her teammates received their indoctrination. Now it was
her turn.
"If you'd be so kind as to hold her for me," the Host said to the big
man behind Darcy. The two had shucked their trousers almost in
unison, and now pressed their bodies against her's, sandwiching Darcy
between themselves. "At times, I like a good fight, but I don't think
this one should have the pleasure."
"Mmmoo oo assuurrr! [No you bastards!] Darcy cried from behind the
surgical tape.
"Easy, baby," the big man growled as he snaked an enormous arm around
Darcy and crushed her back against his chest. "We're gonna make all
your dreams come true, I promise. Now hold that pretty little ass of
yours still for the nice man."
Darcy felt his hot presence lay between the cheeks of her rear end as
he pressed against her. She felt her ankles pull against the
restraints as the big man lifted her and shoved her pelvis forward in
the direction of the Host. Darcy struggled with renewed vigor, but to
no avail. The man behind her was simply too powerful as he presented
her for mounting.
"Thank you, that will be sufficient for now," the Host said to the man
who held his prize. Stepping back, he stoked himself idly as he gazed
at Darcy. "Magnificent," he thought. "The fire in her eyes seemed
unquenchable. Her youthful body was already covered with a satiny
sheen of perspiration. The tendons behind the smooth skin of her
inner thighs stood out like cords as she struggled against her bonds
and the man who held her. This one's a scrapper," were his thoughts
as he stepped forward clutching his erect penis.
Darcy shrieked behind the tape over her lips when she felt the head of
the stranger's evil appendage part her outer lips and begin to slide
back and forth over the petal-like inner gates to her femininity as
her lover sought entrance to her. When she tried to twist her hips to
remove herself from harm's way, the man who embraced her from behind
pushed forward all the harder, forcing her toward her lover. Darcy's
thigh muscles were close to cramping from her futile struggles against
the restraints. It would not be long now.
"I want you to consider what is happening to you now, my dear," the
Host said pausing at her gates. "I want you to reflect upon the
profound change of course your life is about to take."
Darcy shut her eyes and tried with all of her might to escape her
fate. Suddenly her eyes sprang open. She felt herself begin to
stretch as the Host pressed forward and upward with his hips.
"I take you now, young lady, fully against your will, and in so doing
I invite you to give up all that you've been taught." He pushed
slowly upward a bit more forcefully. Darcy felt herself dilating.
With every fiber of her being she clamped down with her vaginal
muscles, her last defense against him.
It had been quite some time since Darcy had taken a lover. For the
past six weeks she'd been battling a yeast infection, but had finally
gotten that settled down. Prior to that, her last sexual encounter
had been with Jim Allen, a guy she'd been toying with for several
months but was about to drop. As it was, Darcy's internal musculature
was not at a peak of fitness. In addition, Darcy shared a condition
not uncommon among young females of breeding age, and that was one of
having somewhat overly active Skene's glands, the glands which produce
lubricating mucus to the vagina as well as to the external female
reproductive anatomy. Darcy hated this quality about herself. Her
Gyn had explained to her that it was a major contributor to the many
cases of yeast infection she suffered, and it had, on more than one
occasion, sent entirely the wrong message to male hopefuls. In the
case of her current lover, however, it was merely a convenience.
Because of this condition, coupled with her distinct lack of vaginal
muscle tone, Darcy soon found herself face to face, staring wide eyed
into the smiling face of the Host as his penis traveled virtually
unopposed into her depths.
"Give up your fight, my dear," the Host said, standing on his toes,
pressing his groin against that of his prize, forcing every last inch
of himself deeply into her. She was fantastically wet in so short a
period of time. He found his penis swathed in a liquid firmness which
clutched and moved around him. He would have to spend some quality
time with this one later. "You have been chosen today, and you will
be chosen by others again to perform a service." He pulled his hips
back slightly, extracting a few inches of himself from inside of Darcy
and reveling at the gripping fullness of her outer lips around his
shaft. He felt warm fluid dribble down his scrotum. It was as though
he had inserted his penis into a piece of warm, ripe fruit, and once
punctured that fruit gave up a liquid treasure. "Oh, my dear girl,"
the Host said huskily, trying to keep his mind on business at hand.
"You are indeed a marvelous receptacle, and one that shall be kept
filled. Never again shall a man be denied you. From this day on,
your attentions shall be freely given to all."
As he talked he began to get up a rhythm. Darcy struggled at first,
but eventually realized that she was powerless to prevent this man
from having her. She was forced to endure, as for the first time in
her life, Darcy was made love to by a man not of her choosing. Darcy
closed her eyes in humiliation as the first of many liquid sounds
issued from between her legs. Her own body was betraying her. It was
utterly debasing. As the man's love making continued with a steady
cadence, Darcy had to fight to keep her mind from drifting away to
warmer places.
In support of the theory that a rape victim will eventually become a
participant, it is thought that in order to escape the emotional
trauma associated with the episode, a woman will often turn inward to
the more pleasant physical sensations associated with the sexual act;
the release of endorphin into the bloodstream, the awareness of
vaginal fullness, and even the clitoral stimulation provided by her
lover's penis as it passes in and out of her.
Everyone currently in the employ of the Facility was very familiar
with studies made on this theory. The Host was, of course, no
exception. As he made love to Darcy he stared intently at her face
for signs that she was "slipping". After fifteen minutes most of her
vigorous struggling ceased. Five minutes later he felt her squeeze
him for the first time since his forced entry.
"You're doing very well, my dear. You are a well endowed young
woman." Darcy's brown eyes flickered open. She'd been drifting. She
stared into her lover's eyes. The Host returned her muzzy gaze with a
knowing smile. As he continued to administer to Darcy with long
measured strokes, he said almost casually, "I think it's time we let
our friend join in. Don't you?" He nodded to the man behind Darcy.
As the Host watched the understanding dawn on Darcy's face and with it
trepidation, he pressed his belly tightly against that of his young
Guest. He then encircled her body with both arms, placing one hand
behind the small of Darcy's back, while the other he placed between
her shoulder blades. He was quite strong for his size as Darcy soon
realized when she suddenly found herself held tightly against his
body. Meanwhile he continued his easy cadence, only now he used a
slow rocking motion of his hips, grinding himself inside of her.
The Host embraced her closely and rested his chin on her right
shoulder so that Darcy could no longer see his face. It was the
other man who began to stir behind her that now gave her cause for
alarm. As she endured the attentions of the one man, Darcy distinctly
heard the telltale sounds of trousers being unzipped and removed. A
belt buckle hit the floor with a recognizable "clack". Darcy was
pretty darn sure she knew what was about to happen, and wasn't at all
thrilled with the prospect.
A burly arm snaked around her waist and tummy. "You been real
patient, little lady, and now you're gonna get your reward," the big
man murmured from just behind her left ear.
"Mmmm.. Mmmm.. Mmmoohh!" Darcy moaned pitifully from behind the
surgical tape when she felt a smooth, hot object forced upward between
the cheeks of her shapely butt. She began to struggle ineffectually
between the two big men.
On only one occasion since she'd become sexually active at age
fifteen, had Darcy been threatened with the possibility of having to
submit to anal sex. It had been on one of those occasions precisely
like the one that the Host had just described where she had been
trying to impress one male suitor by going out with another; the "old
style" triangle game. Darcy had still been in high school at the
time. Darrell, the guy who she was really "after", had seen right
through her plot and called her bluff, in effect forcing her to go out
on a date with a local boy who's reputation for sexual escapades was
know well by all. In trying to make her intended "catch" jealous,
Darcy had unwittingly put herself in a very compromising position.
And compromised she was. Although she admitted it to no one, not to
any of her girl friends and especially not to Darrell, Darcy had been
taken that night. She liked to tell herself that it had been by her
own choosing, but deep inside, Darcy knew that the guy she'd been with
had gotten the upper hand.
After making love to her the "normal" way, the boy had managed to
maneuver himself behind her in the cheep motel room bed. Darcy'd been
a bit muzzy from the intense orgasm she would never admit she'd had,
when she'd suddenly found herself on all fours with the boy kneeling
behind her. Had she been more "together", she might have fought him
off more successfully, because Darcy thoroughly disliked even the
thought of the rear entry position.
"Doggie Style, they called it. How degrading!" Darcy thought.
That night, however, she'd let her guard down. Before she'd been able
to really react at all, she'd felt a persistent, hot pressure
against....
"My rear end ! Oh no, not there !" she'd screamed and had immediately
began to struggle with enthusiasm.
Her resistance eventually paid off, and Darcy'd avoided what she felt
to be an act so dehumanizing that she doubted she would have recovered
from it. The boy had, however, managed to take her vaginally from the
rear that night. Darcy would remember with disgust the sticky,
slapping sounds of his thighs against the firm flesh of her "alpha"
ass cheeks, how he'd held her hips in his hands while he'd had his way
deep inside of her, and the thoroughly debasing noises her own body
had made as air pressure from his incessant pounding had escaped from
inside of her in a medley of spurts and sputters.
The boy had inseminated her that night as well. Darcy fretted for
almost a month over whether or not she was pregnant. Had she been,
the lies she'd told that she'd not allowed the boy to touch her would
have been exposed. During the very few prior sexual encounters she'd
been forced to endure, so that her friends would not think her a
prude, Darcy had insisted that her partners either wear protection
which she summarily refused to apply or to practice coitus interruptus
- to pull out before it was "too late".
But worst of all, and by far the most damaging to Darcy's fragile
"house of cards" ego was the fact that she herself had climaxed again
for the second time that night while "doing it doggie style", or had
it been her third? That evening many years earlier, she'd escaped
anal involvement by mere seconds. This day, however, would spell the
fall of Darcy's inner sanctum.
"Mmm... nnnnnggfff.." she squealed through her nose, as the man behind
her assaulted her rear portal with the cue ball sized head of his
battering ram. Darcy jerked her hips to one side and then to the
other in an effort to dislodge him from her gradually dilating
orifice, but the Host held her pinioned tightly against himself,
preventing any real chance for escape. Another muffled wail escaped
her taped lips as the intense burning spread down the backs of her
legs and up to the small of her back.
"First time back here, sweet cakes?" the big man muttered from behind
her. "Hurts don't it. Yeah, baby!" he said with a satisfied groan.
Darcy's mind reeled with a mixture of pain, humiliation, rage and
dread. The stinging sensation of her rear opening stretching to
accommodate her most recent lover turned slowly to a wrenching ache.
Cramps very much like those she suffered on a monthly basis spread
from her port of entry to the tips of her pelvis. For a head strong
young woman like Darcy to be taken against her will by two obviously
older and desperately homely specimens of maleness was so entirely
degrading that Darcy thought she would never completely recover from
the experience. And if the truth be known, it was intended that she
wouldn't. Underlying the disgrace of allowing herself to fall captive
to these tyrants, was the icy loathing she felt for the man who's
sizeable penis now forced aside tender, virgin tissues on its journey
into a domain never before explored by mankind. Unbelievably as it
may seem, however, even while Darcy was grunting her final acceptance
of her first "back door man", thoughts of dread came to the forefront
of her consciousness.
"Oh God!" Darcy thought as the big man flexed his engine in her
clutching anal passage. "What if somebody finds out about this!"
Just then, the man embracing her from the front also made his presence
known by pushing upward with his thigh muscles. "What would my
friends say about me if they knew?" she brooded with dismay.
In spite of her reasonably uncertain future, not to mention her
rather compromising present, Darcy, like so many women of her kind
turned to thoughts of herself and of how she might appear in the eyes
of others. It is these same shallow thoughts of self-emphasis and
egocentricity, that governed Darcy's decision making processes her
entire life. Until this very day, Darcy had always focused on her
outward appearance.
In the weeks and months to follow, Darcy would learn to concentrate on
her interior.
For almost an hour the two men fucked her, one in each of her
openings. At times they would alternate thrusts, their timing
impeccable as though they'd practiced together like dance partners.
Then together they'd press into her, filling her seemingly to the
bursting point with their hot, hard maleness and raising her upward so
that her feet strained against the restraining cuffs binding her
ankles. The brute behind Darcy murmured hoarse comments about her
anatomy and about his own sexual prowess incessantly whereas the Host
of the Facility went about his enjoyment of Darcy's charms with a
quiet sense of purpose. His most maddening habit was the fact that he
insisted on staring at Darcy while the two men had their way with her.
It was as though he could read her thoughts. If she tried to turn
away he would turn her face back to his with a hand to her chin or
neck. If she closed her eyes, he would pinch one or both of her
nipples hard until she once more looked into his eyes and his
horrible, appraising gaze.
"Squeeze that tight little ass, sweet cakes," the big ogre grunted.
The Host smiled, reading Darcy's humiliation in her expression as from
the pages of a novel. As if to add to her debasement, he thrust
himself into her several times in rapid succession causing series of
pleasant but sloppy sounds to issue from her overly lubricated vagina.
Darcy would have been shocked if she could have seen the amount of
color that had risen to her shoulders, neck and face. As was plainly
stated in several texts on the subject and many times proven with
other Guests at the Facility, Darcy was becoming aroused sexually
despite the perceived unpleasantness of the circumstances of her
coupling. The Host naturally recognized the signs: reduced
resistance, lack-luster appearance and unfocused look to the eyes,
flushed skin, breathing more in time to the cadence of her lovers'
attentions, weak, trembling legs. He knew that the young lady was
close to losing control. It would represent a giant step toward their
goals for this girl were she to climax as a result of her first
encounter.
Just then the gentleman behind her rammed his penis into her rectum
rather forcefully, causing her to grunt in pain. "Take it easy, my
friend," he cautioned the big client. "This little lady will climax
for us if we treat her gently. I have a feeling she's never
entertained two lovers before. Have you, my dear?" he asked
patronizingly, gazing into Darcy's brown eyes while he continued to
fuck her.
Darcy was astounded by what she heard, but found that when she tried
to concentrate, her thoughts were sluggish and hazy. What was far
more clear to her was the awareness of the two male organs which moved
steadily in and out of her body, each providing its own special sense
of fulfillment alternately followed by emptiness, even longing. Darcy
was unconcerned with the fact that for the past ten minutes she'd been
resting her head against the shoulder of her anterior attendant. She
gazed blankly into the eyes of her leading man.
"Do me a favor and move slowly for a bit," the Host asked the big man.
He was quite typical of most of the Clients of the Facility, not too
bright and certainly never blessed with style or grace. He was
perfect for the purposes of training these head-strong and conceited
young women, however. None of these ladies would ever have dreamed of
entering into a relationship with one such as he. It was an
opportunity for the Client to enjoy the things from which dreams are
made, while providing a valuable learning experience for the Guests.
All in all, a very satisfactory arrangement.
The man grunted his understanding then reduced the intensity of his
love making for the time being. "Reach around with one hand and work
with her clitoris while I attend to her breasts," the Host instructed.
"Try to keep your thrusts even and slow and alternate with mine. I
have a hunch that's the way this one likes it." He returned Darcy's
momentary look of animosity with a his wonderfully annoying smile.
That smile widened when after the big man did as he asked, slipping a
finger into the dampness of Darcy's vaginal slit, the Host received a
reflexive vaginal embrace. Her back door man also got a hug.
"Oh yeah," the brute exclaimed appreciatively, "She's hot as a
firecracker. Aren't ya sweet cakes!"
His finger tip sent liquid fire coursing through Darcy. She
shuddered. Her breasts throbbed under the hands of her "man in
charge". Her lower abdomen filled then emptied.. filled then
emptied.. filled then emptied.
The first pre-orgasmic contraction took both of Darcy's lovers by
surprise. It had only been a couple of minutes since they'd begun
their final assault.
"Thrust into her and hold," the Host ordered. The big man was dull
witted enough not to question his instructions and quickly complied.
"Now work her clitoris. Quickly man!" he barked as he picked up his
pace.
Darcy had never felt such a feeling of abundance, of completion, of
fulfillment. Her Host held her face between the palms of his hands.
With his thumbs he gently massaged her cheekbones, then her temples,
his face inches from her own. The penis in her backside now felt like
a natural extension of her spine, a part of her own anatomy. The Host
fucked Darcy first with a series of short, jabbing strokes followed by
intermittent, slow, penetrating forays into the deepest reaches of her
being. Darcy's vaginal muscles started to fibrillate in response.
She stood on the brink, gazing into the abyss.
Suddenly a sputtering groan came from over her left shoulder. Darcy's
bronze eyes opened wide and staring as a plume of internal fire
erupted into her rectal passage. It was enough. Darcy "went to
warp". The Host saw it coming and rammed himself deeply into the
young woman just as her rather athletic vagina began its orgasmic
calisthenics. Wrapping his arms around both Darcy and her rear guard,
the Host held them in his embrace, crushing the girl between himself
and his Client. His damn burst only seconds later brought on by the
milking action provided by his Guest's reproductive anatomy.
Darcy gave a long, guttural moan, as another of her abdominal cavities
was filled with pulsing heat. Shortly afterward her legs finally gave
out. While many of her teammates looked on, Darcy's hips jerked
reflexively as she stood sandwiched between her two new friends. She
might have fallen, injuring herself had a good part of her weight not
been suspended upon her companions' penises. It was a very satisfying
picture, indeed.
It had been a very long day. Darcy lay on her right side between
clean sheets, her head on a cool, satin pillow. She was spent,
physically, mentally, emotionally. A couple of hours aga she'd been
given a warm bath which had helped to wash away some of the horror
anyway. The bath had been followed by a vaginal douche and an enema.
The douche had been marvelously refreshing, and Darcy strongly hoped
that it would have some contraceptive benefits as well. The enema had
been unpleasant and mildly painful, but it did serve to wash away most
of what that horrible bull of a man had deposited inside of her
earlier. Then she'd been shaved by yet another male stranger. Darcy
had disliked it intensely, but was simply too exhausted to put up a
fight. So she'd endured while the man skillfully removed all traces
of her tight blond curls. Next he'd instructed her to put on a
strange mask. Then, while she lay with her legs spread before him,
her feet supported in gynecological stirrups, he'd used some kind of
device on her which had emitted a blue-green light. It hadn't hurt;
just an odd tingling sensation. Afterward she'd been fed a nutritious
meal then tucked into bed.
"Good evening, my dear," the all too familiar voice said. "I trust
you enjoyed your bath and dinner." He sat on the edge of the bed next
to her.
Darcy lay perfectly still.
"Are you comfortable?" he placed a hand on her shoulder. Her young
body was so warm through the soft sheet. He gave her a warm smile and
a playful squeeze.
Darcy lay perfectly still.
"I trust my Associates prepared you properly," he murmured almost
wistfully. "Let's have a look, shall we." His expression remained
completely neutral as he gently took the edge of the sheet between his
fingertips. Ever so slowly he peeled the sheet back exposing inch
after luscious inch of flawless, naked, young female.
Darcy lay perfectly still.
"You're such a lovely young girl, my dear. I do so much hope that we
can become close friends during your stay with us." Darcy just stared
at him. "Although, by profession, I'm surrounded by beautiful girls,
there are so few who truly interest me." Dropping the sheet at
Darcy's knees, he placed the palm of his hand on her left hip.
Without a word, he gently moved it back over her buttock, then slowly
down the back of her thigh. When he reached the back of her knee, he
paused turned on the bed more toward her and said, "Let's have a look
at you now, my dear girl."
With complete nonchalance, he slipped his right hand between Darcy's
knees. With his left had, he picked up Darcy's left hand from the bed
and lay her arm along the side of her body.
Darcy lay perfectly still.
Slowly he lifted her left knee. At the same he pushed against her
left shoulder. As her supple young body rolled, the Host smiled down
at Darcy. Her expression was dark and clouded with hatred. "I know,
he whispered. The shot we gave you was to help to relax you, my
dear." Darcy flopped limply onto her back. Her firm breasts jiggled
for a moment then lay still as well. He moved again, sitting on the
edge of the bed beside her right hip.
"I see that my Associates did their customary excellent job with your
genital area," he muttered, staring unabashedly at the milky white
skin of Darcy's immaculately sumptuous labia majora, now utterly
denuded of all traces of pubic hair. "You'll be happy to know, my
dear, that because of the special treatment we gave you'll never have
to worry about shaving yourself again." He smiled at Darcy's facial
reaction. "You look so much prettier this way, I think," he said as
he placed his hand on Darcy. Her eyes widened and her pupils shrank
to pin pricks, but that was her only reaction as the man began to rub
her with authority. With a knowing smile the Host said, "I almost
forgot. The drug is called Ketamine. We give it to all of our new
Guests. At least until they become more acclimated to their new lives
with us. As you can see, my dear, it does tend to relax you." He
chuckled at his witticism, then slipped a finger between Darcy's pussy
lips. Her lips pursed and her cheeks puffed as she exhaled in
response to his invasion of her person. "Notice how the drug in no
way inhibits your sensory nervous system, my lovely young girl" the
Host pointed out as he moved his finger over sweet folds of tender
flesh. "Another marvelous benefit to Ketamine is that your internal
musculature is also unaffected." With his finger, he entered Darcy
vaginally. Her big liquid brown eyes closed then opened slowly. In
those twin pools boiled unveiled hostility.
"I know... I know, darling," he murmured. She was already getting wet
for him. With a little smile, he removed his hand from Darcy and
stood beside the bed. "The drug is frustrating, I realize," he
continued while he undressed. He turned and hung his shirt and
trousers over a nearby chair. Then turning back to Darcy, he went on
as if he were chatting about the weather, "But it's only for awhile.
In a day or two, I hope you'll come to enjoy my attentions." He moved
to the foot of the bed. "Your days will be spent with the rest of the
girls," he explained matter-of-factly as he reached down, grasped
Darcy's ankles, and spread her legs.
Darcy stared at him darkly over her prone and helpless body. On his
face he wore his customary infuriating, little smile. At his groin,
he wore a full erection.
"I would really like it, though, if you would spend your evenings with
me," he said warmly as he crawled onto the bed between Darcy's legs.
"I think you and I are going to become very good friends, darling."
He crawled over Darcy, supporting himself above her with one arm.
With his right hand he milked his erect penis once or twice. Then,
gazing down into the face of the exquisite young woman beneath him, he
moved the head of his penis between her thighs. Her eyes and face
were a symphony of expression as he first sought out her opening.
"You'll see," was all he said as he pushed into Darcy. Although she'd
been made love to only a few hours ago, the fit young girl was
immaculate inside once again.
At long last Darcy's day came to a close. Her mind was a gray haze,
her body tingling in the throws of afterglow. Cuddled up close behind
her on the rumpled bed, her lover snoozed. His hand cupped her left
breast. His penis slowly softened in her rear end.
Continued in Part Seven...
--
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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