AMATEUR XXX STORIES
-
ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:
A -
B -
C -
D -
E -
F -
G -
H -
I -
J -
K -
L -
M -
N -
O -
P -
Q -
R -
S -
T -
U -
V -
W -
X -
Y -
Z
CNF 04 video being broadcast from the city
WARNING: The chapters in this contain
scenes of graphic sex involving lesbianism,
masturbation, mechanical sex acts,
bestiality, and bondage, all with strong
undercurrents of pain, and, if you can
believe it, romance. In code, that is [f ff
fd ffdd mech bd pain rom]. If subject
matter of this nature does not interest you,
do not read any farther.
All events in this are fictional.
(DUH!) All the characters in this are
fictional. This is a fantasy, i.e. a place
where physical acts and human responses are
not limited to or necessarily based in
reality. Therefore, some acts and responses
described are physically impossible or
physiologically improbable. Do not try them
yourself, especially alone. This is
intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults, not as an instructional
manual. Again, do not try to do any of the
things described in this story. You will
injure yourself or your partner.
If you are under 18 years of age, go away.
This will burn your eyeballs.
If material of a strong sexual nature is
prohibited where you are, go away.
By continuing, the reader accepts all
responsibility for any disgust, revulsion,
jail sentences, or pleasure that result from
reading this story.
You have been warned!
That said, enjoy!..:)
NightShade
*******
Cindy's New Friends
By NightShade.
Chapter 4
Cindy spent the next week on edge, unusually fidgety
and quiet. She awoke from her deep sleep every morning
feeling sexually satisfied for the first time in her
life. Even sleeping on the cold hard kitchen floor
that first night had not put a dent in her good
feelings. Only the niggling guilt about having done it
with an bothered her, but only just a little
bit, at first. The people who made up those silly
morals had never met her Max.
The whole week she kept a constant lookout for Max,
watching for signs he had come back. When she was
home, she would leave the door to the cottage open.
When she wasn't at the cottage, she left the plastic
bowl he had used by the back door, always with fresh
water. But there had been no signs of Max's presence.
At first, she pretended she didn't care. She
masturbated in the shower with the showerhead every
morning before work and every evening after work. She
was experimenting more and more with her fingers at
night. She had even penetrated herself in both her
holes at once with the tip of one finger each. The
feelings from that double digit fucking had brought her
to a shuddering climax with an unexpected suddenness.
But it wasn't the same as it was with Max. She missed
the sensual feeling of his rough tongue, the prickly
softness of his fur, his commanding growl and sharp
little love bites. She missed his presence. She
shivered as she remembered the wicked thrill of his
prick sliding down her throat. Then his spastic
climax, the head clamped securely in her mouth, the
savory emissions from his heavy scrotum spewing over
her tongue and down her throat. This was her best
secret, her best memory, ever.
She had not been allowed many personal possessions in
the orphanage. It was not just the lack of money. The
orphans were kept in big wards with no walls, curtains
or locks. Anybody could go through your things. They
often did. Cindy learned quickly that the only
possessions she could truly call her own, those she
could keep safe from the sticky fingers of her fellow
orphans were her secrets and her memories. No one
cared about those but her. No one could take those
from her. The secret memories of Max made her shiver
in delight.
But the big didn't come back. Day by day, as they
slowly passed, Cindy resigned herself to the fact that
she would not see him again. She would never again
experience the sexual ecstasy she had felt with him.
That sexual fulfillment she desperately, instinctively
craved.
She knew she needed to know more about sex and stuff,
about these sensations she had felt, especially about
how to have them again. Her options for getting that
information were rather limited. She couldn't just go
in and ask Mrs. Cross about sex with a dog, either.
God, the bitch would probably have a coronary!
After she fired her! Cindy was too new in town to have
met or made any new friends. Folks here were nice
enough, but everyone Cindy had met already had their
own friends.
The only remaining source she knew of where she could
learn anything was that forbidden room at the top of
the library. If she could just get back in there and
examine those pictures, maybe sneak out some of those
books, she knew she could find out something more about
sex and how to, well, you know!...
She was determined to get back into that special room.
Day by day she tracked the comings and goings of her
boss, biding her time. She kept a close eye on the
bitch and impatiently waited for her chance to get back
up to the fourth floor room.
She finally got her chance. On Friday, Mrs. Cross left
the building at lunch and wouldn't be back until
Monday. A bored temporary helper was watching the
checkout desk. Cindy saw her chance to get into the
room and took it. She let the lady at the front desk
know she would be unreachable. She told her she would
be working in the far corner of the basement for the
rest of the day. The temp would not be able to reach
Cindy on the telephone, so she should just leave any
messages on her cubical door if anything came up. Of
course, the telephone at the front desk hadn't rung all
day and nobody ever came in and asked for Cindy.
The dull-witted temporary worker nodded in a bored
manner. It was the end of the week, it was hot, the
building was stuffy, and nobody was going to come into
this backwater of a library just for the fun of it.
"That little chicky is just too cheerful to have around
for too long," the bored lady thought. "It would drive
me crazy to be that hyper, happy and young."
Once out of sight, Cindy darted to the back stairway,
going up instead of down. Running up the three flights
of stairs left her a little breathless and she
cautiously approached the locked door that led to the
stairway to the next floor. Reaching to her waist she
got the master key that allowed her entry to all the
doors in the building, even this one. The heavy lock
turned quietly, and the door drifted open.
Cindy stepped silently onto the first step, turned on
the light in the stairwell and closed the door behind
her. It locked automatically, but she didn't notice.
She was so excited she also didn't notice the tiny
gleaming lights of the cameras that blinked
on when she tripped the silent alarm. The watchful
cameras faithfully recorded her every movement.
A slight musty smell tickled her nose as she tiptoed up
the stairs to the small room at the top. She grinned
to herself as she wondered why she was being so quiet.
"Ol' Mrs. Cross isn't even in the building and the only
other person who is here is four floors down." She
whooped aloud.
Standing at the top of the stairs, she surveyed the
small room. It was just as she remembered it from her
previous visits. She examined it more closely, now
that she had a little time.
She noticed immediately that this room was different
from the rest of the library. Everywhere else in the
building there were ancient wooden desks, harsh
fluorescent lights, hard creaky wooden floors and
uncomfortable chairs. It was as if the designers
wanted to keep people away from the using the library.
This room was different. A lot different. It had
deep, comfortable chairs, soft lighting, carpets,
and there were tapestries on the tastefully painted
walls. There were no street sounds audible here, as if
the room were sound proofed. It was also surprisingly
cool. This room drew you in, put you at ease. It was
designed to be that way.
Cindy thought it was strange she never noticed anyone
come up here during the day, but the room was clean
and, as she looked at the dates of the glossy magazines
on display, everything was up to date.
Anxious and keyed up as she was, Cindy closed her eyes
and let the ambiance of the room soothe her jittery
nerves. She took several deep breaths, opened her eyes
and smiled. It worked. She was calmer now, though she
was still filled with an air of expectancy.
Slowly walking around the room, she ran her hands over
the stacks, not really looking at the books or
journals, but just enjoying the feel of the room and
the thrill of pulling a fast one over on Mrs. Cross.
Not having been an adventurous child, she had never
tried to pull anything on the nuns at school. Now she
wished she had. She was literally quivering with
excitement. She never dreamed it would feel this good
to be naughty. All she could imagine was the pain of
the punishments, which had been frequent enough as it
was.
As she wandered around the corner of one of the stacks,
she spied an open doorway she had not seen before. She
ventured through it into another tastefully decorated
area. There were other rooms opening off this one.
There was more up here than she had thought. She
walked around the rooms, getting a sense of the size,
just wandering. She found herself standing in front of
this mysterious object, as if having been drawn to it
by its inner force. She had never seen anything like
it. It called to her seductively, like the rest of the
room, as if it was alive.
"That sure is a weird piece of furniture," she thought.
"Oh, maybe it's a modern art sculpture or something."
She inspected the curious piece closer.
At first, she thought that it was just a saddle sitting
on a series of gears, levers, and springs. The smooth
metal frame gleamed in a lustrous black satin finish.
The various gears she could see were chromed to an
almost painful brightness. The finished product
reflected the high quality workmanship of both the
metal and the leather pieces. The smooth black leather
saddle had a large pommel, but the saddle didn't look
quite right. She hadn't seen many saddles in her life,
though. The pommel on this one looked odd, too. As
she looked at it more closely, she suddenly realized
the black pommel looked rather like Max' erect
penis, only this massive thing was thicker and it
didn't taper to a point. The top of the shaft was
really fat and flared, mushroom-like, unlike Max'
narrowed one.
Behind the object, which she still thought was a
sculpture, was a hanging on the wall. In the
picture, a woman - a naked woman - was sitting on the
saddle, smiling widely at the camera. There was a kind
of dreamy look in her eyes, Cindy thought.
Imagining herself in the picture, sitting astride the
saddle, Cindy's eyes widened as she realized the pommel
was not really a pommel, but one of those things some
of the other at the high school had whispered
about. A dildo, that's what they'd called it! Cindy
had thought the other were making fun of her
then, trying to scare her with all that talk about
sticking something that long and hard inside her
privates.
She couldn't take her eyes off the shiny black phallus.
It would poke right up into her if she sat in the
saddle. The surreptitious drugs and the erotic events
of the last week had had a profound effect on her
normal inhibitions when it came to sexual things. A
mental image filled her mind of being completely
stuffed full by that huge hard shaft. She couldn't
shake it out of her head, nor did she want to. It sent
a chill through her vibrant frame. Her panties, not
her good ones, Thank goodness, but a sturdy white
cotton pair, were getting damp. The room was suddenly
very warm.
She continued her examination of the machine with
renewed interest. There were two stirrups, one on each
side, and ankle straps on each that would belt the
rider's feet securely into the stirrups. Overhead,
there was a short horizontal bar with a pair of leather
straps hanging from each end. She guessed the bar was
to hang on to for balance. The on the wall
seemed to confirm that theory.
Cindy again mentally placed herself in the saddle. She
envisioned herself standing in the stirrups, feet
secured, with her arms reaching up over her head and
stretched out slightly behind it. The wide saddle
would make her legs spread wide, kind of like that time
she had to go to the doctor or when Max had licked her.
She blushed at that thought, getting hotter. She
reflexively pushed out her chest as she imagined
herself in the saddle, hands overhead. Naked. Her
blushing cheeks burned with embarrassment, but that was
nothing compared to the fire that burned in her cunt.
It was then that her body made the unconscious decision
to actually get into the saddle.
Another feature she noticed, but did not even begin to
understand, was a complicated mechanism that seemed to
run off the levers and gears attached to the saddle. A
couple of long black leather rods - riding crops, but
she didn't know that - were attached to a spring-loaded
swinging arm, one in front and one behind the saddle.
The swinging arm in the front was slightly higher than
the one in back.
Although Cindy did not comprehend the relationship, the
motion of the saddle would draw the crops back until
they suddenly released, slicing across the buttocks or
breasts of anyone sitting in the saddle. The insidious
mechanism would do this in an unpredictable manner, and
with increasing force and frequency the longer the
rider stayed in the saddle.
Her sexual curiosity and her raging hormones got the
better of her. Assuming she was alone and unobserved,
Cindy slipped swiftly out of her work clothes. The
scratchy, shapeless shift Mrs. Cross made her wear fell
heavily to the floor, followed by her virginal white
bra and sopping panties.
Breathless with nervous anticipation and with her heart
racing, she reached up with both hand and grabbed on to
the black dildo. Her slender hands could barely reach
around its shaft. She put her left foot in the
left stirrup and swung her body up and over the saddle.
Because of the upright shaft in the center of the
saddle seat, she didn't want to lean over too far to
the right to see what she was doing. Feeling blindly
around with her dainty toes, she got her right foot
into the right stirrup after only two tries.
Once both feet were solidly in the stirrups, fastening
the belts around her ankles to keep her feet in
was easy, but again she didn't know why she would need
them. The leather cuffs tightened comfortably
around her ankles. The heavy-duty snaps gave a
reassuring sound as they clicked into place. She felt
reassured that she wouldn't be falling out if she lost
her balance.
Standing in the stirrups, she grasped the bar with both
hands. It was behind her head and she had to reach
back to get at it. Her posture was just as she
imagined. The position of the bar behind her head
pushed her out quite provocatively. The bar
wasn't that high because she was standing. The straps
attached to the ends of the bar had loops in them and
she checked the beside her on the wall. Seeing
how they went on, she slipped her wrists through them,
and then re-grasped the bar with both hands. The worn
leather straps were cool and sensuous on her skin,
matching the feeling around her ankles.
She concentrated on the hard black shaft sticking up
from the center of the saddle. Lowering herself
slightly, she felt the unforgiving tip of that massive
phallus rub up against her tightly closed slit. Her
knees splayed out to the side as she lowered herself
down, but her slit didn't open up. It was as if her
cunt knew what was coming and had clamped its lips
closed like a child trying to avoid a nasty spoonful of
Cod Liver oil.
As the rounded knob massaged her now slippery flesh,
the large bulbous tip teased its way in between the
frightened lips. She gasped and held her breath. It
felt strange, but good, too. It felt right, somehow.
Tingles fluttered all the way up her spine. She
resumed her shallow breathing, but more rapidly now.
Cindy continued to move her hips, rubbing it around and
around, then back and forth and back over her
lips, which were getting quite puffy. It felt so
naughty, but ooohhh sooo nice!
Glancing over at the picture, on the wall, she knew she
was supposed to sit down in the saddle. That would
drive the long, fat shaft all the way up inside of her
pussy. A part of her wanted to feel it there, but
another part was certain that something so immense
would rip her wide open, damaging her permanently. It
just wouldn't fit. It couldn't fit. It was just too
long and too fat. Besides, when she had stuck her
finger in the other day, she had felt her hymen. That
would stop anything from going in too far. So, maybe
she could let just a little more.
She lowered herself down on the shaft a bit more and
the bulbous head spread and stretched her elastic lips
wide, then pushed into her resisting tunnel for the
first time. She gasped at the sudden intense
indescribable pleasure. She held on to the bar with
all her strength, shaking from the intense feelings.
She didn't trust her legs to hold her up. She had
never imagined it being like this. The tiny tip of her
slender finger didn't feel anything like this when it
had gone in.
Her lips closed tightly over the flared head and
locked around the fat shaft, as if never wanting to let
go. The elastic tissues of the virgin tunnel were
being stretched for the first time, nerve endings
firing for the first time, sending joyous signals to
her brain.
"OOOHHH, this is way better than Max's tongue", she
thought. "Well, different, anyway," she corrected
herself, feeling she needed to be loyal to her lover.
A little more downward pressure on the sexual joystick
pushed the fat head in deeper. The downward pressure
also caused a soft click to come from the complicated
mechanism below the saddle. The added pressure on the
upright dildo had released the locks and activated the
gears and springs of the whipping mechanisms.
Unfortunately for Cindy, her soft moans of pleasure at
that precise moment had completely covered up the sound
of the click. The activation of the device went
unnoticed by her. Cindy was in for a wild ride.
Her first indication that something was different was
when the saddle tipped forward slightly, throwing her
hips forward. Then it tipped back as she compensated
and she had to thrust her hips forward to keep her
balance. The solid dildo shook back and forth in her
tight twat as she moved. She could sense the
vibrations coming up the solid shaft, coming from the
movement of the gears.
These new sensations thrilled her, shutting down most
of her reasoning mind. She wanted more. Just a little
more. After the first movements she had been
motionless, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Then
she figured, what the Hell.
She urged the saddle to rock faster and faster,
experimenting with blatantly erotic hip motions,
clinging to just the tip of the solid pommel. Her
efforts eased the head of the hard plastic prick in
farther until it rested right up against her intact
hymen. The pressure of the unforgiving material
against the fragile useless membrane caused her a bit
of discomfort.
The pain and pleasure racing through her heaving
body felt as if they were tearing her mind apart.
Never had she imagined it being this good, this
wonderful, even with the minor pain. She was fighting
the natural basic desire to sit down in the saddle and
have this prick shoved in as far as she could get it on
one hand and the fear of the unknown and the pain of
the tearing tissue on the other.
Trying to give herself a little break from the
intensity of the ride so far, Cindy pulled up on the
overhead bar a bit and eased the pressure off her
virginal membrane. She breathed deeply until her heart
rate slowed. She experimented with a few different
motions of her hips. She found that by gently rocking
back and forth on the shaft without too much up
and down movement, she could get enough friction to get
herself off without the pain of the fat shaft breaking
through her stubborn hymen and the additional pain of
being ripped in two by that huge shaft plunging into
her depths.
She was well on her way to her goal of reaching her
first climax ever from vaginal penetration when the
first slashing whip caught her square across the creamy
skin on the back of her upper thighs.
Time seemed to stop for Cindy
Her entire being was focused on a narrow 10-inch strip
of searing flesh just below the juncture of her ass and
thighs. She screamed, pulling up on the bar to get
away from the horrible pain.
The front swing arm released just then and sent its
crop slashing towards her. That blow landed across the
middle of her stomach, just above her tight
bellybutton. Screaming, now twisting, trying to get
away from the second attacking implement, she
reflexively let go of the bar to move her hands in
front of her tender and protect them from any
further pain. In her surprise, she forgot where she
was, and with her lust-weakened knees already bent to
lower herself on the vibrating shaft, Cindy dropped
straight down into the saddle.
A loud silence filled the room.
It took a long agonizing moment to fully realize what
she had done, but the sudden fullness in her lower body
accompanied by a sharp tearing pain brought the full
reality of her situation crashing in on her
consciousness. She had impaled herself completely on
the huge artificial cock.
She let out a long piercing scream that tapered off
into a series of deep sobs. Those gut-wrenching sobs
subsided rather quickly, however, to be replaced by a
low animalistic guttural moaning. The pain in her
pussy had been intense, but, as the now-buried dildo
continued to vibrate softly against hypersensitive
nerve endings, short-lived.
After she had sat motionless for a few minutes, her
hands dangling from the leather straps overhead, she
realized she hadn't died, and that she probably
wouldn't die. As the pain/pleasure coursed through
her, she decided she didn't want to die right now,
either. She was strangely anxious to see what else
would happen. Curiosity and the cat, and all that.
The pain was now forgotten, replaced by a fullness only
a woman can know.
Still not fully understanding the mechanism that
activated the whips, Cindy began to gently rock back
and forth in the saddle, this time with more of the up
and down motion she had avoided before. This was much
better.
Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed and
vigor, she built up a rhythm that fucked the dildo
completely up into her newly violated cunt. The
burning pain from the first two cuts of the crops was
lessening as it spread out. In fact, there was a warm
glow along the stripes where they had struck.
"It must have been the surprise," she thought. "It
doesn't so badly now."
The second slashing strikes came just as Cindy finally
reached her first vaginal orgasm. These blows
surprised her, too, but not as much as the first ones
had. Surprisingly, she discovered they didn't as
much as they intensified her orgasm. Perplexed and
gasping, she rode on.
She slowly began to understand the connection between
the motion of the saddle and the release of the crops.
The idea that she could control her painful fate in
some small manner pleased her. In a kind of perverse
way, sure, but it pleased her just the same. This time
when she rocked her hips to activate the gears and
levers, she did so with deliberate intent.
She was excited about fucking herself to another climax
with that solid log sloshing around in her cunt, but
realized she shivered even more in anticipation of the
next lashes. When the slashing blows finally came,
they thrilled her with a perverse warmth she had not
expected. The rear whip landed squarely across the
fleshy rounded part of her ass, leaving another perfect
red stripe above the last two. The slashing front crop
landed just under her swollen nipples, giving her a
heart-pounding sense of what was to come. Or cum, in
another sense.
She screamed through an incredible into the silence
of the soundproofed room. She kept rocking eagerly,
desperately, picking up her pace. The fourth and fifth
pair of slashes came closer together and considerably
harder. Each pair elicited a bigger and better climax
than the one prior.
Cindy discovered if she raised her butt or leaned
slightly forward, she could partially control the
general area on her ass or the crops would fall.
As she chased after the next big `O' she felt building
in her center, she became increasingly frantic in her
fucking motions. The lashes began to fall non-stop,
they started landing on top of previous strikes,
leaving painful spots that would deliciously for
days, reminding her of this ride. She was beyond
caring. The prick in her was going wild with the
non-stop actions of the saddle. She was going to come
again. This was the big one. She felt it building
from the tips of her toes all the way up to the roots
of her wavy hair. She didn't fight the
sensations, but let them overwhelm her with sensory
overload.
With one terrific final slash directly across her
swollen nipples, she stiffened her back sitting
straight up in the saddle. Her back arched tightly and
she scooted back in the saddle, mashing her clit
between the solid prick and the base of the saddle.
"AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHH! OOOOOOHHHH GOD, HELP MEEEEE!!!!
WWWWWHHHHHAAAAA!!!!!" she cried out to the empty room.
Trembling, dripping sweat, and almost unconscious,
Cindy sat motionless, allowing the saddle to stop
moving. After a minute or so, the vibrations in the
thick dildo faded away. Shortly thereafter, she heard
a soft click from underneath the saddle and the machine
locked solidly back in place. With a few tentative
motions she found the saddle to be rock solid. She
wasn't altogether sure if she was happy or sad about
that.
Wearily she reached up to loosen her wrists from the
leather safety straps that had automatically tightened
when she let loose of the bar. Then she bent down to
release her ankles. She stood up off the saddle,
swaying a bit unsteadily. The huge prick made a soft
sucking sound as it pulled out of her tight twat. It
had been a wild ride for the ex-virgin.
As she sank to the ground, exhausted, she realized she
was now a `real' woman. She grinned to herself and
sighed contentedly.
Another memory, another secret. Another contented
sigh.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=
The woman Max knew as his Mistress watched the full
color being broadcast from the city library.
Monitors and recorders were catching the action from
all sides. High quality audio and video.
"It is truly amazing just how predictable these
girls are," Mary Sheffield thought as she watched Cindy
finally begin to stir and get dressed.
"Put something forbidden in their environment, make it
challenging to get to, give them an opening, then sit
back and watch them fuck themselves silly. That silly
girl went to that room like a moth to a flame. Of
course, she did have a little help from those amazing
new drugs." She grinned at the stack of VCRs busily
memorizing Cindy's adventure in the library. "This
tape is going to be a dandy when it's edited."
Mary had been surprised by Cindy's choice of
`entertainment.' It was almost as if she hadn't known
what the actions of that particular machine were. If
she had had to guess, she would have guessed that this
petite little was about as innocent as you could
get. If she hadn't been from that particular city and
girl's school, Mary would have bet the had been a
virgin when she had walked into the room. The chances
of staying a virgin in that city were like finding a
live in the large kennels on her estate. One might
wander in on occasion, but it sure didn't last long.
There were several machines and diversions in that
special room to choose from, of varying levels of
sophistication or `kinkiness'. Most of the devices, if
not all, had a component of bondage or self-bondage,
for those who liked to go solo. Some, like the Saddle,
added an element of discipline or pain. The pain
inflicted was always measured and built gradually,
pushing, but not breaking the `victim's' limits. Most
of the devices were designed to accommodate the female
anatomy, although several of the special visitors to
the library were male. The minor adjustments necessary
could be made in just a few minutes.
The "Saddle," one of her guest's favorites, was a bit
more sophisticated than she had thought Cindy to be.
But the had clearly enjoyed herself, riding crops
and all. That came across the tapes loud and clear.
She had ridden that particular machine longer than any
first-timer Mary had seen.
"Yes, this one has definite potential."
Mary was amused to see the being extra
careful not to put her bra or on over her
freshly whipped flesh. Cindy finally pulled the shift
over her head and stuffed the unused undergarments into
her pockets. But even that loose garment tortured her
tender flesh. Her low groan was clearly audible to
Mary in the control room, as had been the girl's entire
erotic performance.
"That rough material must really irritate her tits,"
she thought. Mary didn't think much of Mrs. Cross'
fashion sense, but this time there was a good side to
something the bitter woman had done. "That is
going to have a painful ride home." A devilish grin
crossed her beautiful face. "Oh, yes, I'll bet I can
make that a very long and painful ride. I think I'll
arrange to meet her - feel her out, so to speak." Mary
groaned at her bad pun as she started to pick up the
telephone.
Mary continued to watch as Cindy stopped to clean the
saddle, and, much to the amazement of her
viewer, did much of the cleaning with her tongue and
mouth. Mary's hand hovered in mid-air, all of her
attention now on the fellating in the monitors.
Cindy engulfed a large portion of the shaft in her
cleaning efforts, swallowing more of it than could
possibly fit in her mouth. "God-damn! The little slut
likes to deep-throat!" Mary exclaimed. It was also
obvious the enjoyed the taste of her own juices.
It was only when Cindy cleaned up the base of the dildo
with her white that Mary saw the spots of
blood on the white material.
"Damn, she was a virgin!" Mary swore, now really
confused. "Who is this little bitch?"
Mary thought back to Cindy's first tentative movements
in the saddle. She remembered how the nubile
girl had only allowed the tip of the shaft into her at
first - until the first lashes had landed on her
flawless flesh. Mary quickly rewound the tapes to that
spot and watched carefully as the impaled herself
again in instant replay. Then in slow motion. It was
so obvious now. Mary wasn't sure where the had
learned her oral technique, but it was clear she was
truly an innocent. If her performance had been real,
then she was looking at a natural.
It also meant that Max had not fucked her last week.
Maybe that explained his over-eager attempts to please
his Mistress. But she herself had seen the dried
crusty flakes of sperm on his belly fur. Mary watched
the use her mouth on the hard black phallus in the
saddle, the light slowly dawning.
Mary sat thoughtfully for several more minutes,
watching the tapes of the from several
different angles. There was something special about
this one, something vaguely familiar, something.
Then it hit her!
Cindy reminded Mary of herself, although she was loath
to admit she had ever been that gullible and naive.
This called for something a bit more drastic, a change
of plans. More anxious than ever to meet the pretty
blonde, the scheming picked up the telephone and made
several calls, the first to the library where Cindy
worked.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Quan-Loc had observed Cindy's performance from a perch
outside the building. His view of her actions may have
lacked the audio portion, but he had been within five
feet of her impalement and had intently observed
everything that had happened. Knowing only what his
instructions were and what he was to watch for, he
dutifully coded his report and sent it off into space.
His owner would be pleased. The first objective had
been achieved.
End of Chapter