'You're going to like this,' he said, waking her from her fantasy. 'It'll only hurt for a minute.'
Her eyes were wide open in terror as she heard his words and felt his great massive prick probing at the tight, puckered opening of her rectum. This was the ultimate submission, the ultimate disgrace. She had been used by this man in the worst ways she could have imagined, and now he would do this to her, push his huge cock deep into her rectum where not even her husband had done it to her before.
He nudged the weapon forward slightly and she tried to clench the muscles tighter but failed. His warming up exercise had left the muscle tired and useless… 'Aaaarrrggggghhhhhh, it hurts,' she screamed as the rubbery red crown of his cock wormed its way into her forbidden passage. 'No, no, no!' she sobbed, begging him to stop.
But it was no use and she knew it. The fiery dagger was forcing its way further and further into her and there would be no respite. The pain raked her insides and she started to pass out, but a last ounce of courage kept her conscious. If she would suffer this, then she must suffer it. But, oh God, she thought, her brain screaming inside her head, it hurts, it hurts so…
The change came suddenly. No longer the pain, no longer the torment. The shock, the newness had turned to a sudden, almost masochistic pleasure. The borderline between pain and pleasure had disappeared. They were one to the young woman whose tear-drenched face was turned into the pillow while her husband's best friend ground his cock in long easy thrusts down into her widely stretched rectum.
The red hot crown of his cock rubbed against her insides, caressing the hitherto untouched flesh. Visions of unseen places and pleasures flashed through her mind. She was rocking on a sea of passion, rolling with each wave as he pushed at her. She responded, lifted her bottom higher, then pushed backward to slap her buttocks hard against his driving pelvis as he rammed into her.
'Oooh, oooh, oooh,' she grunted, beads of perspiration pouring heavily from her forehead. Their bodies dripped with sweat as they worked harder into a frenzied fury, racing to the climax, each wanting to get to the finish first. Her final subjection to his depraved desires had become the fiercest and most erotic moment of her life. She was being used as she had never thought possible, and she liked it! She liked it! He forced her to do as he wished and she wanted it no other way. She knew that there were endless possibilities for them now. There was no thought of her husband, Greg, or anything else that had been so important to her only a few minutes ago. The intensity of the moment had overtaken her. Bodily pleasure was all she craved and she was getting all that and more too. She was getting it all!
Martin could hold back no longer. The scraping of his cock along the sides of her overheated rectum were taking their toll. He had nearly split her open. Her small ringing squeals of pain and pleasure testified to that. But his concern was no longer for forcing her to do what he wanted for he was rapidly approaching the end.
He could feel the doors that held his climax unlock. The pressure behind them was too much. The first spasm of orgasm unleashed itself in his balls as the white hot sperm swarmed through his passage. He jerked back. 'Now,' he yelled to the ceiling. 'Now, I'm cumming, I'm cummmmmiiinnnnnggggg!' And the white hot jets of cum shot from his cock like a blasting rocket.
The hot, fiery liquid spewed into Janet's lasciviously rotating rectum in wet, streaming torrents the sperm easing his last dying thrusts. She felt as if her insides were being filled with hot, thick cream, the same cream that she had swallowed only a few short minutes before and, with each slowing thrust of his cock, it forced his semen deeper and deeper up inside her and pushed her closer to the edge of orgasm.
Unbelieving, she screamed, 'Aaarrrggghhhhhh,' as she pushed hard back into him again. It felt like a thousand hornets were stinging at her as the muscles of her stomach and lower abdomen contracted, then like a huge serpent, rose up and struck at its unseen victim. 'I'm cumming,' she howled. 'I'm cummmiinnnnnggggg,' like an animal freed from its darkened cage and finally able to see the light of day, she was stunned and blinded by the awesome power of the ravaging climax.
Then with one final scream of never ending pleasure, Janet fell forward on the bed exhausted. The orgasm had left her almost senseless. Never before had she experienced such a total involvement in sex. But also, the end of the climax brought the end of her desire. The potion had been no stronger than to last until she had cum one time, and now it was drained from her body like everything else.
The pain returned to her anus where Martin's cock, still half-hard, rested. His penis was sore from the ravaging he had given her tight rear passage and gently he tried to pull it from her. But even though her passage was wet and lubricated with his sperm the pain remained. He would have to pull it out quickly, like removing a splinter. The faster he pulled, the faster the pain would cease.
With one mighty jerk he yanked the soft deflated member from her backside with a sudden wet, sucking noise. 'Ooooooooh!' she groaned half consciously, tears flooding from her eyes. The final indignity, she thought hazily. She suffered with silent sobs as Martin rose from the bed and started to leave the room. He would have to dress downstairs in front of the fireplace. Her dazed mind barely heard his words. 'You loved it, and you'll want it some more, won't you? In any way I want to give it to you,' he gloated triumphantly, knowing what her answer had to be.
'Yes,' she said limply, 'I liked it, I loved it.' She was astounded by her words. In the span of a few short hours, she was becoming a slave to this man who owned not only her body, but was bidding for her soul. She seemed to have no control to resist him. She knew that she would do anything he asked. She had no choice, it meant protecting Greg, it meant protecting her sanity. There was no other way.
She fell quickly into an exhausted sleep when he left the room to dress and take another swallow from the small, leather covered flask. He would need some more of the potion.
Darleen was expecting him at home.
CHAPTER FOUR
'It's quarter to three. My husband will be home in less than ten minutes,' the naked woman on the bed said lazily.
Darleen's new lover jumped quickly to the floor and dressed in the dark with the hurried precision of a man who had known many close calls with faceless husbands.
'Why did you tell me you were divorced?' he asked.
'Never trust a woman,' Darleen laughed and turned her back to him as he quickly left the room checking all his belongings as he ran down the stairs to his car parked in the driveway.
Darleen didn't know his name. She hadn't even bothered to ask. Four hours ago she had been sitting in Peter Grant's discotheque, Grant's Tomb, and the young man had sat beside her and bought her a few drinks. In return she gave him some small talk and a wild hour in her bed. She was still excited and not completely satisfied. No matter how hard she tried with so many other men, only Martin satisfied her the way she wanted. The adulterous act of sleeping with men other than her own husband only increased the excitement of making love with him. Her other lovers were only preparation for each night's romp with her husband.
'That was a pretty wild getaway he made. He nearly knocked over the garbage cans,' Martin said, framed in the doorway by a small hallway light silhouetting his large, husky frame.
'He decided rather hurriedly to leave,' she said, smiling. 'How did it go with you?'
He crossed the room like a man who had just won an election. The sureness of his step showed Darleen that she need not have asked. He slid open the closet and began undressing.
'It was easier than I thought,' he said. 'She was hornier than I had anticipated. We only spent an hour at the club and by the time the dancers had finished she was ready to go right there.'
'Well, don't be so damn smug,' she said. 'And come and tell Mama how you did it.'
Martin related the story to his wife, exaggerating slightly. Darleen was hurt as she always was when he told her of his affairs, but excited by his story, imagining herself writhing in the front seat of the car under his powerful thrusts.
Her eyes were glazed when she asked, 'What happened afterward? Is she going to tell Greg? Did you use the embezzlement?'
'Don't worry about a thing, sweetheart,' he said, crossing the room toward the bed. 'I've done this so many times to so many sniveling little wives that it's almost a repeated dialogue. We'll have no trouble from her and soon
