Chapter 9

If I thought that Brian's humiliation of me was at an end, I soon discovered I was gravely mistaken.

I continued to bow before him, on my hands and knees, while he filled and emptied the aching anal passageway, until his orgasm, patiently delayed until I had finally ceased coming, exploded into that twitching, throbbing channel. Brian's cock began to swell, and he thrust himself harder and deeper, opening me until it seemed as though I could feel the bulb-like head of his shaft somewhere deep in the pit of my belly. His balls began to rise up, like a swelling, mounting tidal wave, rubbing softly against the straining cheeks of my ass.

"Now!" he cried, and I understood very clearly the precise double meaning to his announcement. "Now!...Now!...NOW!...NOW!"

Brian began to come. His cock trembled and spit, and then seemed to shatter inside of me. His sperm spilled into me, hot...incredibly hot!...as if someone were pouring molten lead into the lining of my ass-hole. It was like magma...like fuming lava...like the breathing fire which roars from the mouth of a flamethrower. I could feel it coating the canal of my anus like jellied napalm, clinging to the walls of that overwhelmed crevice of flesh, until the walls themselves were burning brightly, consuming my body from within, igniting a raging inferno that would never quite burn itself out. My ass was flooded with his heat, his liquid fire, and it oozed thickly out, like bubbling sulphur, scalding my flesh, searing the loose, fluttering lips of my empty, wasted cunt.

He remained inside of me until his thick swollen shaft ceased to belch flame. He remained inside of me until his cock began to shrivel, withered by the incredible heat his passion had generated. He remained inside of me until his cock was soft and small and limp, and then he pulled it out. My anus re-closed fitfully, as if it had lost its elasticity, making wet, squishing noises. Sperm, cooling finally, seeped from my vanquished anus, like blood oozing from an open, gaping wound.

And then, to add to the completeness of my subjugation, Brian kicked me in the ass with his naked foot, knocking me off balance, and I fell, face forward onto the stained, sweaty mattress. I lay there, on my belly, my face buried in the folds of the bed, with his sperm trickling like a time-weary river between the hills of my ass.

Brian spoke: "Lisa...Lisa...Jesus Christ. That was the most incredible...erotic experience I've ever had in my life. It was exquisite.. . . "

I said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

"I've never felt an ass so tight before," he continued. "Oh have never had a woman who loved ass fucking as much as you seem to. Christ, I thought you were going to grind my prick to dust, you were squeezing me so hard...." He laughed. "It was almost as if you were trying to snap it off at its base so that you could keep it in your ass-hole for the rest of your life...."

He let that sink in, then went on:

"Can I ask you something?" He waited for my reply, and, when it didn't come, he continued, as though I had answered him. "Have you ever been fucked up the ass before? Have you ever had a man's cock up there?" Again he waited for my answer. "The reason I ask is that you reacted like a virgin. You know-the pain, the incredible heights of your pleasure. I was just wondering. Was that the first time for you, Lisa?"

I didn't answer.

"Answer the question, Lisa," Brian commanded. His voice was soft, gentle almost, but it was a command nonetheless. He was exercising his power over me, testing its limits, if it had limits.

"Brian," I said, testifying to his unlimited control over me, "that was the first time. No man...no cock...no finger has ever been there before you. You were the...first."

He laughed, savoring his triumph. "Good."

I lay there, face down on the bed, completely prostrated before him, the master now the slave, the student now the teacher, and I waited for his next command.

It came.

"Turn over, Lisa," Brian said.

As if I were resurrecting my body from the dead, I moved. Pain danced along the knots of my spine, and my brain flashed in and out of consciousness. Every single part of my being ached in-candescently, until just movement alone was an unendurable agony.

I endured it. I turned over and faced Brian. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress, his legs folded Indian-fashion, and he was smoking another cigarette. I sat down gingerly, resting the weight of my body upon the ravaged point of my ass.

"Move back further," he said. "Back against the headboard. And sit up! No slumping."

I moved myself against the headboard, sitting as erectly as I could.

"Now, spread your legs. More...more, dammit! I want them wide open."

Numbly, like a robot, I obeyed. I spread my thighs as far as I could, until my joints ached, and the cheeks of my ass were straining apart.

"Good girl, Lisa," he said, and I heard myself, as I'd said those very same patronizing words to Richard Lowe, Robert Mills, Gilbert Horton, and a host of so many other nameless faces upon whom I had once exercised my total domination of their minds and bodies. He said: "Very, very good. You did that really well."

I sat and waited, my thighs spread wide open in a gesture of subservience, my will shattered, my ego shredded; humbled, humiliated, and broken.

Just as I'd done to so many others. I'd always known this day would come, when I'd meet someone stronger than I, or sicker than I, if that's a better word, or more frightened than I, but I never quite expected it to be a mere boy. Somehow it seemed appropriate now.

"Put your hand between your legs," Brian said, puffing smoke into the fetid air; "Masturbate."

I stared at him.

"Do it!"

Why not? I thought. It didn't matter now, really. The power always goes to the strongest. Yesterday I was strong, today Brian is, and tomorrow-tomorrow it will be someone else. I took what little consolation there was in knowing that Brian Steele would be in my position one day, and that someone else would be making him jump through whichever hoops he decided that Brian should jump through. As I said, it was not much of a consolation.

I began to masturbate.

"That's it...good!" he approved. "Very good. And no bullshit either-no faking it. I want real passion, real wetness. I want you to do it to yourself the way you do it when there's no one watching you. I want to watch you come."

I closed my eyes and began to concentrate on my task, wanting, suddenly, to do it well for Brian.

"Oh, yeah," he said, pleased with the variation he'd come up with. "While you're doing it, I want you to tell me about your most intimate sexual secret. The thing you're most ashamed about in your life, the thing that humiliated you the most. Something you've never told anyone else in your life, ever."

My thoughts went back twenty years. My fingers worked in the swampy wetness between my thighs. I said: "My Uncle Jeffrey, once upon a time.. . . " I began to tell him my story.

The bed moved, and I opened my eyes. Brian was gone.

"Don't stop!" he commanded. He was standing near the bedroom door, with one hand on the doorknob. He was wearing his jeans and he had a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Don't stop jerking yourself off!"

I continued. "Where are you going?"

Then came my last surprise.

"I want you to make love to my friends," he said.

I opened and closed my eyes, but nothing changed, and the world didn't go away. "Your friends?" I echoed. "I don't think I understand...."

Brian laughed cruelly. "They're in the next room, Miss Harper," he said. "They've been in there all along, taking turns peeking through the keyhole, watching you." He threw the door open. Standing in the doorway were five or six young boys. "They're still watching you. See, fellas. That's a teacher."

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my masturbation. Pleasure began to swell inside of me, as it always would. Solipsist sex.

"And there was a microphone," Brian added unnecessarily, "under the bed and connected to a tape recorder, so we can preserve this evening for posterity."

I opened my eyes and stared at the boys. They were all naked, with hard, muscular bodies, and thick, erect cocks. I recognized one or two of them. They were students from my classes.

"Have fun," Brian said. He stepped out of the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

The boys advanced upon the bed.

I closed my eyes again in concentration. My hand was working feverishly against my clitoris. And, just as they touched me, I began to come.

Soon, I thought, coming all over my fingers, insensible of the hands pulling at my breasts, the cocks pushing against my flesh. Soon it would be over. After twenty long years, the nightmare was finally drawing to a close. Thank you, Brian Steele...thank you for releasing me!

I opened my eyes to greet the bright burning new morning.