Chapter 8
Once she had become a sister, Sharon Simmons led a double life. , She learned that being a SEX sister meant very specific things. The sexual emphasis of the sorority, of course, came no longer as a shock or surprise to her. Still, it took some adjusting to get accustomed to a steady, constant stream of sex. She enjoyed it immensely, as though a new world had opened up to her, but there was always that nagging in the back of her mind. Something, she told herself, is wrong with all of this.
She had to be available to any of the members of KKA at their whim. Conversely, they had to satisfy the girls of SEX whenever their needs grew large. And occasionally, the girls of SEX satisfied each other.
Then there was Dirk. They met in offbeat, faraway places for afternoons of leisurely, lovely lovemaking. Once they lay a blanket in a wheat field twenty miles east of town, and several hundred feet off the highway, and made love beneath the waves of grain.
It was a strange time for her. Everything she had previously known, it seemed, was wrong. Here she was in love with her teacher, and balling him passionately in the most obscure and hard-to-find places, hiding their feelings for one another. She could not share her joy with her sorority sisters, or the sorority's big brothers from KKA. And yet, on an almost nightly basis, she engaged with one (or more) of her brothers or sisters for an evening of sexual diversion. And of those delightfully sensuous and sweaty encounters, she could not tell her beloved Dirk.
And still, there was little time for self-recrimination. She felt little guilt, little of the old feeling of being a deceiver, a liar. Her pussy, so tight and small before, had by now stretched to the size of a well-used, experienced cunt, and her sizzling, hair-lined cleft opened and pulsated to meet the intruding length of a male shaft, any male shaft. She humped and quivered and moaned, writhing in ecstasy and gyrating in orgasmic intensity, panting as her efforts left her painfully short of breath. When the evenings ended, she was tired as the dead, and slept without dreams, without interruption.
During the days, she had to go to class. Dirk's class was a pleasure, because of the private looks they stole.
He was also a superb teacher, a roaster of his craft. Her other classes she muddled through.
As for homework and studying, there seemed to be so little time for it. One night she was bound and determined to lock herself in her room and study, an effort to return to her old thirst for knowledge.
She found her mind wandering, though, and fifteen minutes after she had opened the book, there came a knock on her door.
"Please," she said. "I've got to study. I'm falling so far behind in my classes."
She knew she could talk like that now. They could not misconstrue her intentions as being anti-SEX. She had been an active and willing participant in the proceedings at the house. Nobody could doubt her loyalty to the sorority at this point.
Yet they would not leave her alone. They kept knocking, and she finally had to respond, opening the door. She looked tired, haggard, with dark circles under her eyes.
Behind the door was Paul Slaughter and three of his brothers. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, and a sheepish look etched in his face. "Busy?" he said.
"Very," she told him, looking sincere and hoping he and his friend would take her word for it and go away. "I've got three tests next week, and I haven't even begun to study for them. I've got no time. If I'm going to pass my classes and stay in this damn school, I've got to study."
Paul draped his arm around her shoulder. As he spoke, his hand inched down until it covered her firm, brassiere-supported breast. His fingers outstretched to reach beneath it, and he squeezed, happy to feel her nipple hardening against the palm of his hand.
"You can study later. I don't think we'll take too much of your time."
"Paul, I'm serious. I'd love to, you know that, but this is really important."
"So is this," Paul said, anger rising beneath the calm tone of his voice.
His anger bounced off Sharon, who grew angry herself. "Jesus Christ," she said, the fire burning in her eyes. "All I do around here is spread my legs for you guys. Aren't I entitled to any respect at all?"
She whirled, pulling herself out of his grasp. The other brothers looked at one another, nervous smiles crossing their lips. Paul reached out to grab her, but she eluded him. "You bastard," she said. "I want to study, and that's by God what I'm going to do."
"Like hell," Paul shouted, kicking the door shut violently. It slammed like a shot. Now the anger in Sharon's face was mixed with fear. Paul approached her and shoved her viciously down onto the bed. "You're a sister, and you're going to fucking well behave like one!" he shouted. "I don't understand you. Everybody else in this house knows the score, but after all this time you still act like a prima donna."
Paul whipped his belt off and tossed it aside, then undid his pants and pulled his cock out. He held it in his fist aiming it at Sharon-from where she sat, it was but inches from her face.
She watched, her heart smashing against her ribs, as his cock grew in his hand, pulsating, growing another inch long with each throb.
Finally, the shaft was fully-erect, stiff and turgid. He took a step closer, and the cock grazed her lips. "Suck it," he ordered her.
She looked at the monstrous thing, its blue veins moving and throbbing, its head bobbing and straining. Saliva formed in her mouth, making her tongue wet and slick. Her lips quivered, and she knew she wanted to. God, how she wanted to. She ached to part her lips over it, allowing her hot mouth to blanket his living penis. She wanted to feel it in the back of her mouth, and she wanted to taste its sweat-salt coating.
Finally, she desired for him to come in her mouth, unleashing his torrent of white hot cum so she could swallow it, feeling the slick oozing semen glide down her throat like liquid candy. Her cunt twinged, and she pictured herself dipping her fingers between her thighs as she sucked hungrily at his thick erection.
But there was a principle involved here. She could not do what Paul Slaughter said, just because he said it. "Fuck you," she said, looking over his pulsating cock into his eyes with defiance.
Paul would not let it go that easily. As much as it was a matter of principle for Sharon, it was a matter of discipline for Paul. He roughly grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her toward his waist.
She yelped from the pain of having her hair yanked, but kept her lips tightly sealed. "Suck it!" Paul shouted at her. She whimpered but shook her head.
Paul turned to his comrades. "Open the bitch's mouth up," he told them.
One of them slid behind her and held her tight, while the other two pried her jaws apart. With his fist still wrapped around his shaft-base, Paul steered his cock into her mouth.
The two who had opened her mouth moved away, and she could see out of the corner of her eye they were both lustfully rubbing their full crotches. The other Greek remained behind her, holding her still and steady, and Paul continued to hold her hair as he pumped his cock into her mouth just as though it was a cunt. He had no regard for her feelings now, no interest in whether or not he was hurting her, choking her.
Her hands flailed uselessly at her sides as she felt his hot, slick meat sliding vigorously in and out of her mouth. It filled her mouth, then suddenly she felt only the small round crown between her lips. But before she could clench her teeth again, the cock was rammed back in, jackhammering her.
Paul tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head to him with each thrust, shoving it out of the way with each withdrawal. Her teeth scraped against the fleshy covering of his thickness, but he did not care. He was fucking her, and that was all that mattered.
His cock swelled with his approaching orgasm, and he yelled and nearly tore a tuft of her hair from her head as he shot a gusher of sperm down her throat so quickly and viciously she had no time to taste it.
Still, her hands had somehow wrapped around Paul's firm, muscular buttocks, and she was eagerly cooperating with him.
"Christ, look at that," she heard one of the brothers say. "She likes it."
Spent, Paul withdrew his limp member from her mouth. But he still held her hair. "Eddie, your turn," he said. Eddie, a tall good looking red-head, eagerly unzipped his pants. Sharon's eyes widened as she realized she was expected to suck all of their cocks, bring them all to orgasms and swallow down every last drop of each of their ejaculations. She was horrified.
But Eddie's stiff thickness was before her before she had too much time to think about it. Her jaws were sore from working on Paul's cock, and she knew she could offer no resistance. So when Eddie's throbbing shaft appeared before her mouth, she simply opened it and even held his cock, guiding it between her soft, moist lips.
Eddie wasn't as violent as Paul; he let her suck his delicious cock, taste it, slide her firmly-pressed lips along the length of his shaft. He vigorously rubbed her hair, and Paul finally released the aching bunch of hair he was holding.
But Paul wasn't finished either.
"Spread your legs, Eddie," he said. Eddie heard him through a haze of sexual arousal, and spread his legs. Paul crawled between then, and was faced with
Sharon's knees. He hoisted the hem of her dress up, and viciously pulled her panties off, taking one or two strands of her curly pubic hair with him. He heard her whimper as he ripped her panties away, but cared nothing about that. Her gaping, pink-rimmed hole was open for him, and he lapped at the shimmering slit with his tongue as though he were licking a popsicle.
Sharon clamped her thighs around him, and redoubled her efforts on Eddie's ready-to-explode erection.
Paul's tongue finally reached her pebbly clitoris, and he licked at it with the hardened tip of his tongue. Sharon responded with a deep, guttural moan that vibrated like a machine against Eddie's impaling thickness. He gasped, lurched once shoving his length beyond the limits of Sharon's mouth and into her throat, then withdrew with a yank.
His viscous male sperm splattered across Sharon's face, and dribbled down her chin. She came then, climaxing in a fit of aroused passion, shaking uncontrollably against Paul's face.
When Paul arose, he was smiling. His face shone from the liquids she had gushed onto him.
"I've still got two friends who aren't satisfied," Paul said, as Eddie stuffed his cock back into his pants. "You guys come here."
The brothers stood in front of Sharon, grinning, awaiting their pleasure.
'Take your dongs out, boys," Paul said. They did as they were told. Both of them had long, thick erections, dancing and bobbing in anticipation of the touch of female flesh.
Sharon was shivering. Her face was coated with a cooling layer of cum-some of it was turning into a dry crust already. Her skirt was hiked up to her belly, and her sopping cunt was exposed to all of them. And two cocks faced her.
"Jerk them off, Sharon," Paul insisted. "I want to see them cum all over you."
"At the same time?" Sharon said, a quiver in her voice.
"At the same time. Two hands for beginners," Paul quipped as he leaned against the wall and folded his arms.
She took one penis in each hand, and began to slide her hands in rhythm back and forth along the length of each shaft. Each one felt distinctively alive and individual. One was hot and pulsating rapidly, the other was cool and beat steadily. But they both spurted their loads of cum onto her face and her dress at the same time.
"Lick them clean," Paul said.
She did as she was told. "See?" Paul said. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Laughing, the four of them left the room, closing the door behind them.
Sharon collapsed on the bed weeping. All of her activities in the last several weeks caught up with her, and she lay in the puddles of semen, her cunt lewdly splayed, and cried.
When she was done crying, she showered, then ran from the house. She had to find Dirk. She had to confess it all to him. Things had finally gone too far; she had been humiliated this time, and there was no reason she should have to put up with it. She would tell Dirk.
She didn't see Paul following her as she left though. She had no idea this was the beginning of the end.
Dear Diary:
They're coming for me. I am huddled in my room, with the door locked and a chair shoved under the knob, but I know they'll get in. It's only a matter of time.
I don't know what I'm going to do, and I don't think I care. I can never face Dirk again, after what they've done to me, and without Dirk I don't know why I should even bother.
I found Dirk at his home, wearing a lounging jacket, smoking a pipe and working on some student papers. He saw I was agitated, and we went for a drive. We parked in a quiet park, and as I wept, I confessed it all. Everything.
He wasn't mad. He wasn't even upset. He put his arm around me and held me close and whispered it was all right, that he loved me, that he actually wanted to marry me. It was the happiest moment of my life.
God, if only I had known Slaughter had followed us, that now he knew about us. Dirk and I made love, and even though sex had been such a humiliating experience a few hours before, this was beautiful and wondrous. Then Dirk dropped me near the edge of town, and I started back toward the house.
But Paul and two of his brothers intercepted me. "What do you want?" I asked them.
"We know about you and that scumbag teacher," Paul said. "Don't you know the rules, you cock-happy bitch? You can't fuck anybody but KKA. You don't learn your lessons very well, do you? We're just going to have to teach you another one."
Everything was so bright in my future I couldn't let these childlike imbeciles stand in my way. I tried to run, but Paul caught my arm and forced me into his car.
"Where are we going?" I asked. My voice trembled from fear.
'To your teacher's house." He said. I started, but Paul laughed. "Oh, don't worry. A couple friends of mine stopped him. He'll be a while getting home."
"Oh God, what have you done with him?" I shrieked.
"If I were you, I'd be more concerned about yourself," he told me.
"But Dirk ..." I could think of nothing else. If I had learned anything since joining SEX, it was that the sisters and brothers would do anything to accomplish their goals. In every instance, that meant sex, but what enjoyment could they get out of Dirk? All I could think of was violence. My Dirk!
"He's just being delayed a little," one of the brothers said.
Paul shot him a hostile look. "You fuckin' talk too much, man," he said.
The brother looked down, ashamed for having aroused Paul's anger. But that abated when Paul looked back at me, and a smile crossed his face, lighting it up.
"You come along with us, little sister," he sneered. He grabbed my wrist and flung me into the back seat of his car, and the two brothers got in on either side of me, making escape impossible.
Paul slid into the driver's seat, and gunned the engine. I tried to relax, since there was nothing I could do, but it was not possible. I was nervous, shaking, and I could hear the deafening echo of my heart pounding in my head.
I tried to watch his route, but it was dark by now and my eyes were clouded with eye moisture and fear. But I knew where we were when we arrived there. We were at Dirk's house.
When they saw my reaction, Paul said, "Don't get your hopes up, little sister. We've got other plans for you."
The doors flung open and I was hauled out of the car, and dragged up the walkway to Dirk's front door. Paul didn't knock or ring ... he just opened the door and walked right in. His friends pushed me in after him.
Dirk lived in an old house, two stories, that was almost gothic in appearance. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a valuable, lavish piece of property. At State, though, only faculty and administration could afford houses. And even most of them were waiting to get a better job, so their interest in investing was small. Dirk rented this house for a song.
Upstairs, I heard what I thought was giggling, female giggling. That didn't sound too ominous, so I didn't resist much when Paul began forcing me upstairs. His friends followed behind us.
His words inspired fear though. "You're about to pay, you bitch," he whispered as we mounted the stairs. "You've been warned. You were told there was a price, even before you became a sister. You gave an oath, you cunt. And you've been violating it every goddam day behind our backs. Now it's get even time. You get yours tonight, shrew."
The sound of giggling increased until I heard it coming from beyond the door at which we stood. Paul pushed it open and shoved me in.
I toppled, and didn't have a chance to see what was going on until I could sit up on the floor to which I had fallen.
My eyes must have widened three inches. Connie was there, naked and panting, sweat glistening on her body. Melanie too. They were on the bed, locked in one another's arms. Melanie's lips were closed over Connie's erect nipple, and Connie had her hand buried in the growth between Melanie's thighs. They both giggled, even after seeing me.
Mixed in, and beneath their tangled bodies, I saw a leg covered with fine, black hair. I knew there was a boy beneath them, naked as they were, and obviously a KKA brother.
Connie looked up at me, saw me, and reached out and grabbed something. It was a cock, the boy's, thick and covered with liquid that made it glisten. As she wrapped her long fingers around it, it grew a little, throbbed, and I heard the sound of a male moan.
Then she dove on it, her mouth unhinging and the cock disappearing into her throat. She sucked hungrily and the boy moaned loud, again and again, guttural sounds that were pure instinct and no reason.
When she pulled away, she pulled her soggy breast away from Melanie's hungry mouth. I saw her lips quiver, and it reminded me of the time Melanie and I had languished on the floor of the punishment room. Even though I was sore where my hip had hit the floor, I became somewhat excited against my will. I tried to force it back, but it paid no attention.
Suddenly my heart stopped. Across the room, I saw Dirk's son, Anthony. He was naked, tied by both wrists to the handles on his closet doors. This was his room! I realized with a start. He had been bound there and forced to watch Connie and Melanie making love to each other and to the KKA big brother. And now, even though his binds tore at his flesh, his little penis was erect, bouncing happily as he struggled, aching to participate in the scene that had been going on before him.
In an instant, Paul and one of his friends were upon me, ripping my clothes from me. I felt each garment come off, torn from my body. My dress strained against my back, tremendous pressure, and the material finally gave and I felt the dress shred from the top to the bottom. It peeled away easily after that. I had lost my shoes in my fall. I felt my brassiere being tugged by the hook that held the two brimming full cups together, and it too, finally snapped, and my large, orb-like titties flowed loose, the mammary flesh rippling as the two mounds filled the space they were meant to.
Something tickled the hairs of my cunt, and I was aware that Paul was reaching far up between my legs, grabbing the ribs of my stockings. He wasn't concerned about running them; he just pulled them off, ruining them for good. My panties came next, they could have easily slipped them down my long, tapering legs had they wanted to. But that wasn't enough punishment. I was to undergo a humiliating experience, and it was necessary for them to rip my panties off, pulling them so hard that they dug painfully into the flesh of my hip before it finally tore.
Now I was nude. The boy Connie and Melanie had been fucking held me by one wrist, and the KKA brother with Paul held my other wrist. Connie held one of my ankles, and Melanie the other. They spread my legs wide, obscenely displaying my gaping, wet pussy for the sole satisfaction of Anthony Roland, the son of my lover.
He strained tearfully at his ties, but could not escape. There was no question in my mind though, after seeing his cock react to the sight of my splayed legs.
He wasn't trying to set himself free-he wanted to put his long, virgin cock up my tight little pussy hole.
Paul emerged from somewhere, holding a can of shaving cream and a razor blade. He showed them to Anthony, who didn't really understand.
I struggled,, because I understood. But they held onto me tightly, and I succeeded only in tiring myself out more.
Paul expelled some shaving cream onto his fingertips, and knelt between my spread legs. He rubbed the creamy, white stuff into the downy curls of my silky pubic hair. It was that kind of shaving cream that turns warm after it goes on, and the folds of my cuntal flesh, just beyond the crevice that leads into the depths of my pussy, starting to get hot. I squirmed, but this time it was only half from anxiety-and half from arousal. I couldn't help it, the warmth of the cream on my cunt was more than I could stand.
When he had rubbed it in good, so my pubic mound was thoroughly saturated with cream, Paul wiped his hand on his pant leg and flashed the razor before my eyes.
I screwed my eyes shut and tried to relax. A razor over tense flesh, I reasoned, would have a better chance of cutting than would a blade over loose, eased pussy skin.
The razor scraped over me, and I whimpered against my will. In my mind, I pictured Anthony, his mouth agape, his eyes bugging out as he gazed into the space between my thighs, the sizzling pink flesh of my cunt.
The razor passed over again, and a chill swept my vulva. It was, I realized, the air hitting the now-naked flesh of my vagina. I shivered, and the razor swiped again.
Suddenly, it stopped. A dry, fluffy feeling grazed my cunt, a towel, I realized. I had been shaved clean. I opened my eyes and saw Paul stepping back, gazing at the honey pot between my splayed thighs.
"Like a baby's," he said.
He moved away, and let Anthony see. Blood droplets had formed on his wrists near where the ropes gouged into him. But his face was red with sexual frustration; he wasn't even aware of the pain in his wrists.
His erection throbbed like a man's, thickened by the sight of my naked pussy. Over the pinhole head of his cock, a large drop of white semen had formed. I closed my eyes again and wished. I wished Connie would go over to him and wrap her hand around his meaty boy's shaft and stroke his hardness once, twice-enough, no. doubt, to stimulate him enough to come, shooting a geyser of hot sperm. Maybe it would land on me, who knows? Anything, though, to keep him from putting his cock inside me. Not that! He was my lover's son, just a little boy. It wasn't his fault, he was forced into it without choice. Still, the idea of the hot, pulsating penis of the son of my beloved Dirk made me ill.
I had no choice though. They pulled my legs apart farther, so that the tunnel that led up my cavernous pussy was easily visible. At the same time, Paul used a pocketknife to cut away Anthony's restraints.
The instant he was free, he fell upon me. He was naive in the ways of love, as I was when I had first come to State. I felt the rockiness of his thick cock jammed against my pussy, but he couldn't find the entrance. He moaned and whimpered as he humped in vain, the underside of his fleshy cock sliding along the bare exterior of my cunt.
Maybe, I thought, he would come like that, and never have to enter me.
But the SEX and KKA people had planned this, and they did not have any intention of seeing it go awry. Melanie reached between my body and Anthony's; I felt her cool hand on my sensitive pube skin. She felt around for the cock she knew was pressed between us, found it, and pointed it between the slick portal walls of my cuntal entrance.
The head of his turgid cock penetrated the slits, and jammed against the hard pebble of my flaccid little clitoris. I gasped as my pleasure button jumped to life, twitching and growing hard.
Connie straddled our interlocked bodies, and planted her bare feet on Anthony's quivering, hairless buttocks. She pushed, and the boy's cock shoved hard and fast into me. It had no trouble moving in, since there was no pubic triangle through which to navigate. And my lubricants were flowing freely, offering him no resistance at all. In a split second, his hard, full cock was filling my cock-loving pussy.
His breath was audible and rapid, and he was aroused beyond control. His tender young penis had never before felt anything like this; I don't even know if he'd ever even masturbated before.
He humped me madly, and I felt my wrists and legs released by those who had held me. Instead of trying to get away, though, I wrapped my arms around the boy's shoulders and pulled him close. His head nestled into my hot, jiggling bosom, and my nipple found its way between his lips. His anxious tongue flicked over the nipple, forcing it to harden from excitement.
"Ah, God, fuck me," I said involuntarily. At this point, a cock was a cock, and that was exactly what was inside my pussy, gyrating and thrusting in and out, drawing forth an animalistic excitement.
My head and face were completely exposed, and Connie decided that was just the way she wanted it. She straddled my face, and I opened my eyes to look up at her splayed cunt lips.
Something dripped on my face, hot and musky. It was a drop of her lubricants, slipping out of her aroused pussy, which was shaved as slick and clean as mine!
Before I had a chance to say anything, she sunk to her knees. The smooth, moist flesh of her cuntal skin pressed into my face, against my lips. As Anthony fucked me, his skewering, impaling thickness shoving into my cunt and out again, I began to lick at the sticky lips of her pussy.
Her fluids were like alcohol, and I lapped at them hungrily, my tongue burying itself inside the folds of her cunt, and then receding again back into my mouth so I could swallow her juices.
"Yes," she hissed, leaning forward and rubbing the moving cheeks of Anthony's buttocks. "Yess, fuck him and eat me, baby, fuck him and eat me!"
Her words aroused me, and I nibbled tenderly at her shaved vulva. I was so wet I could just barely feel Anthony's cock sliding moistly in and out of my pussy. Nothing mattered now, not Dirk, not education, not my morals-only cock and pussy. I wanted to come so bad it hurt.
I felt hands on my side, and realized somebody was trying to force me over onto my side. It was a difficult maneuver, but whoever it was forced me. Anthony just rolled with me and kept humping, his arms locked around my back. Connie also rolled, locking her thighs around my face.
She lay on her back, twisted around at her waist, and I continued burying my face into her gaping, delicious pussy.
I felt somebody pulling the cheeks of my curvy, milky ass apart. I gasped, realizing what was about to happen, and the gasp vibrated against Connie's pussy. "AAAGH," she screamed. "Yeah, baby, fuck me with that hungry mouth of yours." Then she sucked in air violently and vibrated against my face. Her fluids were flowing like a river now. Electric shocks sang from my breast where Anthony sucked at my nipple, and his rigid penis continued jackhammering into me.
I felt the head of a cock push up against the tight little button of my asshole, and shove. "GOD NO!" I shouted into Connie's pussy, and she screamed back, her arousal intensified a hundred times by the vibrations from my voice.
'TUCK ME!!" she screamed in a piercing voice. "Make me come, make me come all over you, make me come."
She repeated her litany over and over again as I felt a cock push deeply into my tight rectum. "There," a voice said as the penis had entered my ass all the way. It was Paul. "Now you can fuck everybody."
He began thrusting in and out, falling into time with Anthony. Connie gyrated and writhed on my face. From every direction it came, from every angle. I twisted and shivered, but every move I made only made me aware of one other genital, the cock in my ass, the one up my pussy, the cunt blanketing my face.
Anthony came, shooting a virgin load of semen that seemed to be a full gallon up my pussy. It spurted against my throbbing clitoris, and I shuddered to a violent, writhing climax.
The movements I made, and the deep, loud moans issued by my orgasm, led Connie to hers, flooding her juices over my face and filling my thirsty mouth with them.
She rolled off me, as did Anthony, who was crying and shaking. Connie held him as Paul forced me on my stomach and violently humped my puck-ringed anus until I could feel it bleeding. Still, when his gusher of white, viscous semen filled my bowels, I shuddered to one more climax, shouting, "Yes, yes, this is what I want. It's all I want, it's all I want."
He withdrew from me. I lay alone in a puddle of semen and cunt lubricant. I thought for sure I would cry. But I didn't. I was smiling.