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Message-ID: <50030asstr$1104304202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Winston Greystroke <winston_greystroke@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Taking Annie {Winston Greystroke} (cuckold) [10/10]
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Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 02:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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                                   Taking Annie
                            by Winston Greystroke

                                   Chapter 10



Once back with her guests, Annie floated through the crowd like an 
angel. Except for Annie's mother and Sherri, all the remaining guests 
were men, chosen by Annie herself. They stared hungrily at her body, 
barely concealed by the nearly obscene, white bridal outfit. With the 
long train now discarded, you could see how the back plunged well 
beyond the dimples of her firm ass, baring her entire back and upper 
ass-cheeks. Fleshy crescents of her large breasts spilled outward along 
the open sides like enticing ripe fruit waiting to be eaten. She was 
aware of every second of their attention, and of every man's hopeful 
fantasy that he would get a chance to stick his cock in her. And she 
was loving it.

But she had seen to it that you were well taken care of. She delivered 
you to Shayla, holding you by the hand, then placing your hand in 
Shayla's strong grasp.

"Take care of my little cuckold for me, won't you?" she asked.

Shayla's eyes widened, her imagination working overtime, planning your 
time with her over the next two weeks. She was a head taller than you. 
Her muscular arms and broad shoulders made you feel so small, so weak, 
so helpless to disobey even the most perverse orders she might give 
you.

"You're mine now," Shayla announced as she stared fiercely into your 
eyes. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," you answered. "I'm yours, Mistress."

"Mmmm - I just love the sound of that word - 'Mistress'," Annie cooed. 
"What will you do with him? Can you really turn him into a little 
girl?"

"I've broken much better men than this one," Shayla bragged. "Besides, 
thanks to you, he's halfway there already."

Shayla pulled you closer, brutally grasping your crotch in her hand. "I 
think I'll call you 'Jeffina'. You like that name don't you?"

"Y-yesss," you gasped.

"My goodness, Jeffina, I don't feel anything at all between your legs. 
If you don't have a cock, you must be a girl - a girl in a man's tux. 
Is that what you are? A weak little girl?"

"Y-yesss," you gasped again.

"See how easy it is?" Shayla told Annie. "He'll be prancing around your 
house in no time, more than eager to be your maid. That makes you wet, 
doesn't it?"

"Oh God, Shayla - it's just so, so - well, yes, in fact, I'm dripping 
just thinking about it. So, Jeffina," Annie asked you, grinning 
wickedly, "do you really want to be a little girl?"

You answered with fear and shame - "Yes, Mistress."

"With a pussy, tits, and everything?" Annie added.

"Yes, Mistress."

Annie simply glowed. "Then she's all yours, Shayla. As for me, I need 
some attention from some real men. You understand, don't you Jeffina, 
just between us girls, how I need some real cock on my wedding day?"

"Yes, Mistress," you answered again. "Anything to make you happy, to 
please you."

For hours Shayla kept you in tow, always sure you were nearby when 
Annie played with her guests. You looked on as Annie teased them all, 
one by one, softly fondling their erections through their pants as she 
flirted shamelessly. She kissed each of the young boys from across the 
street, sucking lewdly at their open mouths as she pressed her body 
against them. This time when she took them in private, you weren't 
invited. Shamelessly, she led the three of them to her bedroom, closed 
the door, and took their impatient cocks inside her. Nothing was spared 
- her pussy, her ass, her mouth - and when she had milked every 
ounce of sperm from each of them, it was your turn to clean her, 
licking and sucking their sticky fluids from her sweaty body as Shayla 
looked on, directing your every move.

Afterwards, Shayla escorted you to every man Annie had bedded in the 
short four hours, ordering you to thank them. You were amazed at their 
numbers - every co-worker in your office had used her body, if for only 
a few minutes. As used to the humiliation as you thought you had 
become, it was hard to get the words out to guest after guest.

"Thank you for fucking Annie. She'd love to have sex with you again, 
any time you want," you would repeat to each of them as Shayla looked 
on. How they leered at you when they answered, each one promising to 
use her body as often as possible. Each man's knowing grin drove home 
the bitter truth, again and again - that Annie would gladly fuck any of 
them, take their cocks and cum inside her, and orgasm under them, over 
and over, each man playing with her willing, luscious body in any 
manner he wished. You pictured each of them with Annie, stroking and 
licking her supple neck, mauling her ample breasts and sensitive 
nipples, each huge, throbbing cock sliding into her, stretching her, 
pounding her, flooding her with so many flavors of sperm. In your mind, 
her cries were always the same, always terrifyingly wild and hungry, 
orgasm after shattering orgasm. With all those men. With everyone. 
Except you.

As evening approached, I presented special admission tickets to the 
guests, tickets that would give them entry to The Gold Club, an upscale 
strip club in the midst of the flashing neon of the busiest downtown 
nightclubs and theaters. The face of the ticket was enough to promise 
every man the time of his life. I made sure of that. A glossy picture
of Annie graced each one, a close-up of her face giving her sexiest 
pout, her outrageously enhanced naked breasts jutting forward along the 
bottom of the photo. Just below the picture, in her own handwriting, it 
read, "Strip me, do me, yes, I mean YOU!" I'd wager most men would keep 
the ticket to remember their special night with your wife.

Annie and I took a waiting limo to the club as the others piled into 
their cars to follow. I invited the neighbor boys to ride with us - 
there was plenty of room, and they eagerly scrambled inside, sampling 
the wet bar across from us as Annie settled in beside me. As they 
sipped the twelve-year-old scotch and cognac, Annie opened their pants, 
one by one, and milked their cocks with her sweet mouth. If only you 
could have seen her - coaxing the semen from them with her delicate 
hands and full lips as they spurted into her waiting mouth, swallowing 
huge quantities of their young, virile sperm, savoring it more than the 
expensive liquor the boys so enjoyed. At times I would reach under her 
dress, tracing her cunt with my fingers, feeling the rush of her juices 
as she serviced them. As each boy was about to cum, I took her little 
clit between my fingers and stroked it gently, timing my speed and 
pressure so that she came the instant they did. If only you could have 
heard her muffled little moans each time one of the boys came in her 
mouth. If only you could have felt her thighs tighten about my hand as 
I delivered each welcome orgasm. Afterwards, she collapsed back on the 
seat beside me while the boys stroked and caressed her recovering 
body. They seemed to never tire of fondling her breasts, belly, and 
legs, and she seemed to never tire of their attention.

You rode with Shayla in her newly purchased Porsche. She made you 
unfasten your pants and play with yourself as she drove recklessly 
through streets and alleys that led in a roundabout route to the club. 

"I can see why you want to be a girl," she said sarcastically. "How 
could you ever have married Annie in the first place? Didn't you have 
any consideration for her needs as a woman? How did you ever think you 
would satisfy her with a tiny thing like that?"

You looked down at your lap in shame as you answered. "I - I guess I 
didn't know how small I was - that is, until I saw Parker's - um, 
penis."

Shayla shook her head in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that Annie 
never told you how tiny, how disappointing your dick was? Never?"

"She - um, well, not really," you said quietly, still looking down at 
your flaccid prick. "Not before Parker."

"Couldn't you tell?" Shayla blurted. "When you fucked her? That she was 
faking it every time?"

How those words, the realization that Shayla was right, must have 
wounded you. Your own wife never really made love to you, never really 
had a single orgasm as she lay naked under you. She merely endured your 
feeble attempts to fuck her like a real man should.

"I - I didn't know," you admitted. "She was so quiet when we did it, so 
quiet - until - well, until I watched her with Parker. I guess I knew 
then - she screamed and moaned with him, he was so big - when she told 
him how good he was, how he stretched her and filled her cunt, then I 
guess I knew."

"Awww, poor boy," Shayla joked. "It's time you learned that some men 
just aren't born to be real men. Some men are better at serving than 
leading - or fucking. You know that now, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And we can both see how worthless your tiny little penis is, can't we? 
Even when you play with yourself, it's useless, so limp and pathetic. 
You really have no use for it anymore, do you Jeffina?"

"N-no, I guess not, Mistress," you answered reluctantly.

Shayla pulled over and squealed to a gut-wrenching stop in front of the 
club.

"Stay close to me tonight, do as I say, and I'll see to it you get your 
wish."

She led you into the club on a leash attached to a dog collar buckled 
tightly around your neck, your zipper down, your genitals still fully 
exposed. "Better to let everyone know," she said as you followed her 
through the door, "why Annie needs a real man. You couldn't give her a 
more fitting wedding gift."

As the club filled with our guests, Shayla led you onto the stage and 
sat you in a chair at one end, then tied your leash to one of its metal 
legs. Just before leaving you on display, she reached into your open 
fly and tugged on your balls and prick, making sure they fell obscenely 
from the opening, exposed in the bright stage lights.

The club was closed to the public for our reception, but I made sure a 
dozen of Annie's stripper friends were working to keep all our guests 
happy. One by one, the girls took the stage and stripped for your 
friends and coworkers, always spending some time in front of your 
chair, flicking and pulling your tiny dick. But even with all their 
attention, it stayed limp and shrunken, just as Annie had taught you. 
How satisfying it was to see that your fear of both Annie and I kept 
your erection at bay, the useless little nub hanging from your open fly 
like a deflated child's balloon. Everyone in your office had wondered 
about you and Annie, about how she could visit Eric so often for those 
"private meetings", and about how you could stand by and allow it to go 
on. As they laughed hysterically at your lifeless penis, now they 
understood. 

Annie had the time of her life. After a few more drinks, she grew tired 
of the full-length wedding dress, so she unfastened and removed the 
lower half, leaving her in a breathtaking white lace crotchless 
bodystocking. She wandered about the club flirting, giving one man 
after another lewd lapdances, rubbing her bare pussy against their legs 
and crotches. When she caught your best friend, Carl, watching the 
stripper on stage while she squirmed in his lap, not to be outdone, she 
pulled the sides of her top between her breasts, baring them, then 
pushed them into his face as they bounced and quivered, gasping out 
loud as he sucked on her distended nipples. But you wouldn't need your 
best friend anymore. Shayla would be your best friend for some time to 
come.

Finally, it was Annie's turn to dance. Once on stage, she posed and 
strutted like a pro. After teasing the crowd into a frenzy, she 
approached you, still tied to your chair just a few feet away. 
There was fire in her eyes as she bent to look into your face. She 
intended to make a point.

In one single, swift motion, she ripped the lacy material from her 
body, throwing it into the screaming crowd. Standing naked before you 
in the bright lights, she lowered her face close to yours once again, 
shook her tits at you, and laughed. She took your limp prick in her 
hand and rolled it between her fingers, then pulled it toward her, 
stretching it to its limit like a short rubber band.

"I need a man!" she screamed at you over the deafening music. "A man 
with a big, juicy cock! Are you a man with a big juicy cock?"

You squirmed as she stretched your little prick tighter, then, cringing 
with humiliation, shook your head no. The crowd roared with laughter.

"You want me to find a man with a big juicy cock, don't you?" she 
shouted.

Red with shame, you nodded a yes.

"Which one? Who should I pick? Or maybe I should ask for volunteers," 
Annie continued as she looked into the crowd, grinning. Every man in 
the club was on his feet, hands in the air, eyes glued to Annie's 
naked pussy, screaming, "Me! Me! I'll do it! I'll fuck you!" 

When you didn't answer, too frightened and weak to respond before your 
friends and coworkers, Annie answered for you.

"What's that?" she shrieked. "You want them all to fuck me? Here and 
now?"

Knowing you had no choice with Shayla looking on from beside the stage, 
you nodded another yes.

Within seconds the stage was filled with men, all on their backs, lined 
shoulder to shoulder, their pants tented with throbbing erections. 
Annie gave you one last wicked grin. "This is for all the times I let 
you put your baby dick in me, all the times I suffered under you  
while you pumped away, trying to cum, all the times I cringed when I 
felt your pathetic sperm soak my pussy, wishing, no, screaming inside 
to be fucked by a real man!"

One by one, Annie opened every fly in every pair of pants on stage. I 
saw your eyes wandering over them, trying to count their numbers. So 
many cocks - twenty?, no, closer to thirty - each one freed by Annie's 
own hand, each one standing erect, jerking and dancing in the stage 
lights.

Then, one by one, she squatted over each of them, taking one cock at a 
time inside her for a few quick strokes, then moved on to the next. 
Within the first fifteen minutes, she had taken all of them, thirty
hard, impatient cocks of your friends, neighbors, and coworkers. Now 
they all glistened with her juices, jerking in the air, throbbing for 
more. She began again, this time lingering on each cock longer, 
milking it with her cunt, until she heard the man under her begin to 
groan. Again she moved on to the next willing guest, milking him to 
within seconds of his orgasm before moving on. When she finished her 
second round, thirty cocks remained standing, soaked with a thick layer 
of pre-cum and pussy juice, the guests now moaning, begging her to fuck 
them again, to make them cum. She went to you again, her face 
inches from yours, seething with lust.

"Now you're going to watch thirty men cum inside me! Thirty doses of 
sperm inside my belly! I want you to hear this over and over in your 
head each time one of those beautiful cocks erupts inside me - every 
man here, all thirty of them, will give me more pleasure in the few 
seconds he cums in me than you have during our entire marriage. In 
fact, each time here, on this stage tonight, will be 1,000 times 
more satisfying than your little prick could ever hope to be. Watch 
closely. See if you can count how many times I cum. I hope you enjoy 
it!"

With that, she went to them, working furiously on the first man, a meek 
accountant in the cubicle next to you at work. She ran her hands over 
his pale, hairless chest as she squatted on his cock, begging him for 
his cum, begging him to show you how a real man fucks a woman. Seconds 
later his hips began to buck under her, then the long, relieving groan 
that signaled his orgasm. Still impaled on his cock, she turned to look 
at you, the sweat dripping from her breasts and nipples. She mouthed 
the words slowly, so you could read her lips from your chair. 

"Better than you."

You watched her fuck all of them. Some came right away, but others, 
like Eric, held out longer, enjoying watching the pleasure his thick 
cock gave her, her pussy clamped over it like a vise until she gasped 
and moaned with her own orgasm. Only then did he cum, long and hard, 
his semen flowing out of her like a gushing fountain. This time there 
was no mistaking her quiet message to you. 

"MUCH better than you."

The last in line were the three neighbor boys from across the street. 
They had each taken Annie in your bed earlier that day, and had a long, 
loving blowjob from her in the limo. Annie looked exhausted by the 
time she got to them. Her blonde hair lay in wet tangles, pasted to her 
face and back. She was soaked from her flat belly and ass to her toes, 
covered with a thick, wet, shining layer of cum, sweat, and pussy 
juice. She panted heavily as she lowered her cunt over the first boy's 
perpetually hard cock. She worked on him for twenty minutes, using 
every trick she knew to get him off. When she tired, he thrust 
his cock up into her harder, jolting her glistening body, until she 
collapsed onto him, screaming while her ass tightened in uncontrollable 
convulsions, a river of cum flowing from her grasping cunt onto the 
stage.

She took the second boy much like the first. When her legs began to 
give out from squatting over him, her long firm thighs shaking from 
exertion, he pulled her down on top of him, working his cock into her 
from underneath, her limp body shuddering as his relentless piston 
plunged into her, stroke, after stroke, after stroke.

How different she must have looked to you now - once your sweet 
innocent wife, mother of your children, a shy, playful girl who long 
ago promised to love, honor, and obey. Now you sat only a few feet from 
her in a dog collar and leash, watching the young, firm body that once 
belonged to you and you alone as she ravenously coaxed the cum from 
thirty men, taking it all inside her, so thirsty for cock that no 
man was off-limits, not your friends, relatives, nor co-workers. The 
coyness, the little smile she gave you when you surprised her from 
behind and cupped her breast in your hand, the gentle sigh she gave up 
when you kissed her neck just below her ear - all that was Annie to 
you, now gone, replaced with a fearless woman, obsessed with the 
newfound physical gratification that a man with a thick, always hard,
impossibly large cock could give her. And now the most painful blow had 
landed, sinking into your flesh and mind, a truth that seemed 
unstoppable, inevitable - that the coy smile, those full lips, that 
slender, eager body, had never been yours to begin with. You had begun 
to accept it weeks ago, with my help, then with Annie's.  Slowly, the 
unmistakable evidence had begun to assert itself, to enter your world, 
then subtly change it - to our world, a world where I had everything 
Annie needed, and Annie craved everything you lacked in a man. Below 
the surface of your Annie lay my Annie, a harlot of unquenched hunger, 
hibernating, quietly waiting for the day when she could rip through the 
skin of the quiet, patient, wife-who-serves, to escape as the whore-of-
whores, whose hunger for sex without limits with legions of men can be 
appeased, and vengeance for her captivity in your world savored. She 
was never really yours. Just ask her.

She saved the third boy for last. His cock was incredibly huge, 
rivaling my own. She crawled to him on her hands and knees, her eyes
glassy, the spent muscles of her arms and legs shaking with tremors, 
her lean body slick with semen and sweat. Her cunt yawned open as she 
crawled, twitching with regular spasms, expelling small globs of thick 
semen that fell in long strings along her inner thighs and finally to 
the stage floor. 

The crowd was now hushed, both excited and astounded by the sight of 
her. The stage lights dimmed to a deep blue, the music quieted, now an 
earthy tenor sax oozing a sweltering jazz ballad.

When she finally reached the boy, she was dazed and drooling, her eyes 
locked on his enormous cock. With every once of energy she could 
summon, she straddled him, took his fleshy monster in her small hand, 
and guided it inside her, sinking slowly over it, moaning obscenely as 
inch after inch disappeared inside her.

She rode him slowly, gasping each time she sank to the bottom of him 
where his cock flared even wider, stretching her cunt to its limit. 
After only a few minutes, she collapsed onto him, unable to support her 
own weight any longer. Her wet belly and breasts made a slapping sound 
when she landed on him, the thick coating of sticky liquid gluing their 
bodies together as she lay panting on top of him. Now delirious and 
totally exhausted, unable to move, she began to whisper in the boy's 
ear. As she recovered a bit, the whispers became gasps, loud enough for 
everyone to hear.

"Please - fuck me. Fuck - my cunt. Make me - cum. Please, I need - to 
cum. Show them. Show them all. Show my - wimp husband - how - a - real 
- man - fucks. Oh, please - I - love - your - cock. So big. So 
beautiful. I - need - you. Please - fuck - me!"

Her pleading stopped when the boy put his mouth over hers, kissed her 
deeply, then put her on her back, rolling on top of her. She moaned 
loudly when he slid the full ten inches of his cock inside her, then 
whimpered when he withdrew, as though she was afraid the thick pole of 
flesh might not return. As he began to feed her cunt with long, even 
strokes, she looked up at you again, now determined to serve up her 
final humiliation, to flaunt your submission to everyone on the club.

"Watch him fuck me," she told you. "Watch his big, beautiful cock fill 
my pussy. Even as a boy, he's more of a man than you ever were. You 
never made me cum, you know that, don't you, Jeffrey?"

Before all those men, as you watched a mere teenager satisfy your wife 
like you never could, you swallowed what little pride you had left, and 
nodded yes. "I'm sorry, Annie," you cried. "I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy 
you. I'm sorry I couldn't be a man for you."

She just laughed at you. "You're sorry all right, Jeffrey. So damn 
sorry you couldn't fuck me like a man. But you can make it up to me, 
Jeffrey. Beg him to fuck me harder. Beg, so everyone can hear you're 
finally giving me some real cock. Beg! Now!"

With tears streaming down your face, you complied. "Fuck her harder," 
you croaked through your tears. The boy increased the speed of his 
strokes, now excited by your public defeat. "Fuck her harder!" you 
repeated, knowing Shayla and I watched your every move from the side of 
the stage. Now the boy slammed into her, stabbing at her, impaling her 
with everything he had. "Fuck her harder!" you said again, this time 
shouting, overcome with rage and grief. Annie's body shuddered with 
each pounding lunge, her breasts thrown violently upwards, as though 
they might be torn from her chest. Her face was still turned toward 
you, but she was delirious, her eyes looking through you, unable to 
focus, her mind now totally engulfed with her hunger for another 
orgasm.

The boy knew what she wanted from him, and he was determined to make 
her cum in front of you. Like a tireless machine, he fucked her 
relentlessly, without a moment's rest, her body jolted like a small, 
lifeless rag doll.

Then you saw it - her eyes suddenly widened, her mouth opened, forming 
a wide, silent "O". Her moan was low and guttural at first, then slowly 
rose in pitch as the orgasm washed over her. Now she was oblivious to 
you or the boy as she screamed and thrashed, pinned to the stage by his 
huge cock. His mission accomplished, the boy released a torrent of 
sperm into her belly. You watched silently while they came, clutching 
each others bodies, their animal grunts and groans now louder and more 
erotic than the sultry music.

You would always remember that moment, the vacant, stunned look on her 
face when the final stroke of the boy's cock plunged her into a dark 
world that existed only for Annie, a tear in the fabric of time that 
took her from our world and delivered her to a private retreat where 
nothing could touch her except the sustained onslaught of pleasure 
that held her suspended in a final crushing orgasm, delivered by thirty 
men.

After that, it was probably all a blur to you - the boy pulling out 
of her, standing over her quivering body, cheered by the crowd with
what little strength they had left - then the quiet, as our guests 
filtered out of the club, ignoring Annie completely as she lay wet 
and exhausted on the stage - the darkness as the lights were shut 
down, until only a single spotlight remained, its narrow, blue beam 
falling directly on Annie, her moist, heaving breasts and belly so 
beautiful in the ghostly circle of light.

Shayla pulled you from the stage by your leash and dragged you across 
the club to the door. You followed her, your head lowered in shame and 
defeat, half walking, half staggering from the night-long, humiliating 
ordeal.

At the door, you stopped and looked back at the stage one final time, 
as though trying to convince yourself that today had been just a bad 
dream. What you saw was proof enough that the day was only too real. I 
lay on top of Annie, my cock deeply buried in her well-used cunt. She 
clutched me tightly, struggling to pull me close, her arms and legs 
still slippery with your friends' semen.

Her fragile, velvety voice was the only sound in the empty club.

"Cum in me. I want your sperm in me. I want it in my belly every minute 
of every day. I wish this was your baby inside me - I want your baby so 
badly, so many of your beautiful, perfect babies. My husband - my love 
- my man."

As Shayla dragged you out the door, as I fucked Annie with slow, deep 
strokes and she begged again for my seed, you heard me promise to give 
your sweet Annie everything she asked for, and more. 

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