Duncan Fox: Spread wide and tied

Wil rammed into Lois hard, backed out, then rammed into her again. His balls knotted up against his dick base and his tight buttocks spasmed. Clara knew he was emptying his cream into Lois in quick, hot bursts.

"I feel it," Lois groaned. "Awww, jeezzz it feels great! God that was good!"

Clara's cunt spasmed in frustration as a thick, gooey wave of Wil's jizz oozed out of Lois' tunnel. It dribbled thickly down his balls and pattered to the carpet.

Wil cased back, and his dick flopped out of Lois. Clara licked her dry lips. Wil glanced over at her.

He was enjoying her misery, gloating over it. "Give Clara the cum," Wil ordered.

"What?" Lois asked, still half-dazed from her cumming.

"She wants what I gave you. So, let her have it." Wil chuckled wickedly. "Grant'll get his chance at her in a minute. Give her a drink first."

"Yeah," Lois said hotly.

"Noooo," Clara moaned, rolling her head in denial.

Her pelvis carefully angled up so the cum pooled in her couldn't spill out, Lois crawled over to the bed. She kept her vagina tilted to hold every creamy drop until her bush was over Clara's face. Once again, Clara found herself staring up into Lois' blonde muff. This time there was a crimson flush to the labes, from the pounding of Wil's cock. Pearly drops of Wil's jizz clung to the hairs.

Watching carefully, Lois lowered her cunt on to Clara's mouth. Then, just as carefully, she sat up. The cum Wil had dumped in her hot hole spilled down over Clara's lips.

In spite of her aversion, Clara's mouth opened to accept the flood. Eagerly, her tongue reached for the pearly stream. Her lips puckered, sucked in the thick fluid as it poured out of Lois. Clara savored Wil's sex juice as if it was fine wine. While he and Grant watched, she lifted her head and sucked and slurped shamelessly at Lois' dripping pussy.

Then, at last it was all gone, and Lois eased off Clara let her head drop back. Her stomach churned as she tried to catch her breath.

Suddenly, something crashed down on her. A cock slammed against her cunt, found her hole, and rammed deep into her. There had been no warning at all. It was brutal rape. Her body responded with a bucking heave, welcomed the burning dick into her sodden depths. At last she had a cock! Her cunt, after being kept empty for so long, was stuffed. Her entire body reacted with animal gusto.

Grant was clutching her, reaching for her ass, digging in between her tail cheeks. His fingers dug at her asshole, tore at it until she screamed with pain. Then she felt him pry two fingers into her shitter. She yanked and heaved against the ropes that kept her from tearing at his back. Her hips writhed and jerked and bucked. She began to own. Wailing with pleasure, her mouth still thick with Lois' and Wil's cream, Clara became a glittering fireball. She felt the cock in her cunt begin to twitch.

She knew now that there was absolutely nothing in the world she wouldn't do, if Wil ordered it. And she would love it. She would love it. She was his slave.

"Lois is having a party?" Clara asked excitedly. "A coming out party," Wil answered. "For her, and you."

"We're hardly the debutante type," Clara pointed out as she followed him out of the apartment.

"Uh, how many people are going to be there?"

"I don't know. More than just the four of us. I think the usual ratio is three escorts for each deb."

"Who… are the other men?" she asked.

"You'll see."

"A debutante party," Clara mused. "So that's why I'm dressed like this." Wil had specified a formal, the one she had worn to her high school prom, when she had lost her virginity. She wondered if there was any particular significance to that.

"Are there any other debs besides Lois and me?" she asked.

"No, but there will be other girls."

"Now, no more questions," Wil ordered curtly as they reached the subway.

The ride downtown seemed to take forever. Clara felt exquisitely conspicuous in the strapless formal, since Wil was wearing casual clothes. He had refused to let her wear a coat. As a result, she was aware of every passing breeze, every glance at her creamy shoulders and throat.

The dress had been a little small when she had first worn it the year before. Now, her more fully developed breasts bulged up from the cups. She had three crinoline petticoats on under the full, knee-length skirt. She sat very straight, intensely aware of the curious stares she was getting. She twisted her white-gloved hands in her lap as the train rattled through the black tunnel.

"Come on," Wil ordered, hurrying her up the stain of the Fourth Street Station and out under the theater marquee on Sixth Avenue.

"Are we late?" Clara, skipping nervously along. The chill wind was cutting her exposed flesh, seeking up under the full skirt, brushing her panty-less pussy intimately.

Wil glanced at his watch. "We're right on time." At Lois' door Clara fidgeted nervously, and realized she needed to use the toilet. The door opened at last, and Lois dragged her inside, past Grant. Clara had a few final moments of peace and quiet as she used the toilet. Then, stripping off her gloves, she rejoined the others in the living room. From the closed door of the big studio came the muffled sound of laughter and music.

Lois too was wearing a strapless formal. Hers was a dramatic jet black. It was the perfect foil for her pale blonde beauty. Her hair was coiled up on her head and pinned with onyx and silver needles. The cups of the dress pressed her full, round breasts in and up, produced an exciting cleavage.

"You ready?" Lois asked.

Clara nodded tensely.

The studio, with its wall of mirrors, slanted windows and ballet bar, was dim and mysterious. All the people were strangers. They were all casually dressed. Along the wall with the mirrors and ballet bar stood the remains of a buffet. Obviously, it had not been intended for her.

Two pieces of rough cut lumber, each about five feet long and four inches square, hung vertically from chains in the ceiling. The bottom ends were about two feet from the floor and were anchored by similar chains.

Fascinated, Clara stared at the spot-lighted lumber. Because she and Lois were the only ones formally dressed, they stood out just as the lighted wood did.

"No drink," Clara said when Wil offered her a brimming glass.

"You'll need it," he said.

Clara shook her head tensely as fear knotted her throat. "No drink." Whatever she faced, she wanted to face it stone cold sober. She wasn't sure whether it was because she didn't want to miss anything, or as an experiment.

Two men broke away from the crowd and flanked her. She saw two other men join Lois. She cast a lingering, defiant, fearful glance at Wil as she was led away from him, toward a spot-lighted pillar.

At the columns, she and Lois were turned to face the rest of the gathering. The men took her hands, drew them behind her. She felt the rough splintery wood between her wrists. As her shoulders were drawn back, she felt the overhead spotlight spilling down on the exposed slopes of her breasts. Had they used a sun lamp?

She felt rough, harsh loops of rope binding her wrists. In seconds she was helpless. The column of wood was between her back and her bound wrists. Turning her head, she looked over at Lois. Her eyes were glittering with excitement. Her lush body was drawn taut. Her tits were almost falling out of the small bod ice of her gown.

Then Clara turned to study the audience. Everyone seemed to be commenting on her and Lois. Clara's pussy began steaming just from having her wrists bound. Pear gnawed away at her guts, fed her lust.

Grant nodded curtly toward Lois. Her two escorts reached between her and the post, and unzipped her dress. Pushed by the impatient thrust of her jutting breasts, the bodice surged outward.