Chapter 6
The stars had hardly moved. Mona began to stir. She felt lost. The faint sounds of a van driving away, then the harsh protest of the gears, filtered into her throbbing head.
David's dead. That's why I feel alone. David died and left me.
No! David died a long time ago! It was Ron-Ron and some dreadful men. They were here, and ...
Mona retched. A blinding pain over her eye grew stronger,-lancing through her head with each spasm of vomiting.
Oh, god! I-I sucked Ron while that other man took me like a dog! Like I was nothing but a cunt, and I came! He-he pounded up against me, and I kept coming! I even tried to make the first one hurry, just like a whore!
God, it's cold. Where are my clothes? It's so cold-the grass is wet. My head hurts! I-I'm bleeding! I'm going to die!
Mona sat up. She stared at her fingers. They were covered with blood, sticky and black in the starlight. She touched the wound on her forehead again, then rubbed her hand off on the grass. The blood caked, stiffening the side of her face as it dried.
She looked around for her clothes. The passionate sweat had dried on her skin. The dewy grass put a deep, wet chill on her legs and buttocks. She saw the white gleam of her panties and reached for them.
Mona cast the torn scrap aside. She saw how useless they were; not even thick enough to sop the drooling jism from her crotch.
The naked woman picked up her blouse and skirt. She considered her pantyhose, but left them on the ground. She'd lost her shoes before the men had dragged her out of the van.
Mona put on her bra. She held it up to her breasts, trying to hook the back before pulling the cups over her goose pimpled bosom. She let out a forlorn groan. The catch was torn out of the cloth.
I wish I'd just stayed home. What can I do? Why did Ronnie do it? Why did he have all his friends rape me? Mona stepped into her skirt. The zipper jammed twice before she got it closed. With the waistband's buttons gone, the skirt hung dangerously low on her hips.
Mona buttoned her blouse. She didn't dare tuck it into her ruined skirt, fearing that the zipper would give up entirely. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was.
The streetlights were far off. They looked blurry. The band of grass she stood on sloped up toward a little plateau. Trees cast a pool of ink over the dirt road the van had come in on. The other side of the grass ran up a steep, brush-covered hill. Mona squinted up the gentle slope. A splotch of white hovered, moving with the breeze.
"The golf course," Mona muttered. "They raped me on a goddam golf course!" She started to" cry again, but took control of herself.
Mona found one shoe on the dirt road. She picked it up and carried it. Her feet were freezing from the wet grass. Every toe was a brittle ache. The sandy road coated her feet with grit.
Don't worry, Cindy. I'm okay. Momma will be home soon. Mona hobbled away from the fairway, ignoring the flow of tears on her face. She wanted to collapse, but not until she reached home. Sharp rocks pricked her feet, and she had to stop constantly to pick spiky burrs out of her soles.
Even under the streetlamp at the end of the maintenance road, Mona had to pick her way through the broken glass of smashed beer bottles. Cum rolled down her thighs. The scent of strenuous fucking wrapped around her like a cloak. It didn't warm the disheveled woman at all.
It was ten long blocks from the park to the Lucky Lady. Mona considered going into the bar to clean herself, but the effort seemed too wearing. She put her hand on the door of her old Mustang and sagged. No keys.
Every bone in her body ached. Her limbs felt like bags of dead mice. The clock across the street said it was after three. Mona dreaded the long, painful walk home. She hadn't seen a light or a single person on the street.
There it is! Oh, Gawd! Mona dragged herself over to the mouth of the alley. Her purse was an irregular blob at the edge of the streetlamp's shadow. For the first time, Mona blessed the quiet, residential location of her bar.
Mona fought to keep her eyes open on the way home. She took three tries at parking in the garage. Dizzier and dizzier, she mumbled, "Good thing my eye's puffy. Hate to try this with double vision." Her skirt fell around her ankles when she got out of the car.
Mona dragged it back up. She stumbled through the garage. The glassy cement felt good under her burning feet, cool and smooth. The hall leading to her door was longer and brighter than she remembered. Mona squinted her good eye, dropping the single recovered shoe when she searched for the door key. It took two hands to guide the key into the slot, then her strength failed. Mona whispered curses at the sticking lock.
It snapped open. Mona pushed the door open, kicking her shoe into the living room. The lights were on and Cindy looked up from a book she was reading.
"Mom! What happened?" The thirteen-year old's eyes snapped open. She ran from the couch to her mother's side. "Who did that?"
"I-it was Ron," Mona whispered. She put her hand to her head. "There were four more." She let Cindy lead her to a chair.
"That bastard!" Cindy spat. "That's just like him. I'm calling the police and an ambulance."
"No, honey," Mona began. "Don't call anybody. I'll be all right. I just need to clean up a little."
Cindy ignored Mona's protestations. The bruise over her mother's eye looked like a purple golf ball. Her eyes was swelling shut, and blood caked on her cheek. Mona's feet were crisscrossed with a network of scratches.
"Cindy, we can't afford it. Hospitals cost so much ... " Mona closed her eyes and sank back in the chair.
"I can't afford to have you die," Cindy wailed. "We already lost Daddy!" The little girl ripped through the telephone book. She found the number. "Please somebody, send an ambulance- my mother's been raped and the men beat her up. I think she's dying!"
Cindy was sleeping fitfully the next morning when the phone rang. She stirred. "Damn! If that's Miss Stoat ... " Remembering that Mona was still in the hospital, the little brunette dashed into the living room. "Hello?"
"Cindy? This is Dr. Piersall. I tried to reach you at school, but they said you hadn't come in today. The vice-principal said your mother was assaulted last night. What happened?"
"She wasn't assaulted, Doctor," Cindy snapped. "She was raped!"
"No! How is she? Where is she?" Dr. Piersall exclaimed.
"She's in the hospital," Cindy sobbed. "I'm so scared! I think she's hurt bad and they won't tell me anything. Please help me, Doctor!"
"Take it easy, Cindy. I'll help you both. Can you be ready to go in"-Piersall rustled paper aubidly-"ten minutes? I'll take you to see your mother. They'll tell me what's going on."
"Sure, Doctor. I'll be out front. You know where the building is?" Cindy scarcely waited for his reply. "Good." She put the receiver down and raced through the apartment, dressing as she ran.
Cindy couldn't find panties or a bra in her flurry of rapid activity. By the time she'd fastened her stockings to her garters, she didn't have time to sort through the clean laundry in her basket. The winded picture of propriety, Cindy reached the curb with seconds to spare. In her skirt, blouse and stockings, the little brunette jumped over the three steps leading down to the sidewalk. Dr. Piersall's big Mercedes rushed around the corner and stopped short in front of her.
Cindy scrambled into the leather-lined womb. "Perfect timing, Doctor." She pulled her short skirt down over her thighs. "I thought you had appointments all day. How come you have time to take me to see Mom?"
Dr. Piersall answered as he charged out into the traffic. "I had a cancellation right before I usually take lunch. Don't worry, the hour's paid for," he added, glancing sideways at the pretty young girl. "I called a friend to cover my hospital rounds today, so I have until three o'clock." A traffic light stopped the headlong rush. He leaned over to help Cindy adjust the shoulder belt.
A spark jumped from the doctor's hand to Cindy's sweet breast. The firm mound was obviously naked under her thin blouse. She whispered, "Ooohh," and her nipples erected at his touch. Cindy opened her thighs. She wanted the cool air to ease the sudden blast of heat in her crotch.
Mack Piersall pulled away. His own reaction to the brief touch dismayed the psychiatrist. "Cindy! What about your mother? She needs us. We can't distract ourselves." The doctor's groin tingled at the thought of Cindy's arousal.
"I know, Doctor. Will she be all right?" Cindy ran her hands through her long brown hair and looked at him. His face turned grim when the light changed.
"We'll find out when we get there." Dr. Piersall patted Cindy's nylon-sheathed knee. "There's nothing to worry about until I have a chance to examine her. I wish you'd called me last night. So few emergency room personnel understand the psychiatric implications of these things." Dr. Piersall flung the big sedan around, carving through the city traffic like a rapier. His cock rose, heated by her presence.
"I was so worried, Doctor. I thought she was going to die unless she got to the hospital. She was all bloody, and she almost fell down when she walked in," Cindy explained. "Would being raped make her crazy?"
"We don't use the word crazy, Cindy. Her behavior could become quite inhibited sexually. It might take years of therapy to make your mother stop blaming herself." The psychiatrist glanced into the mirrors. "Aah, shit! Hand me that medical bag, Cindy, right next to your feet."
Cindy looked out the back window. A motorcycle cop was gesturing the car over. Mack Piersall grabbed a stethoscope from the bag and waved it in the air.
The cop pulled alongside. "Where to, Doc?"
"Hillside Presbyterian. I've got a neuro-psychiatric emergency!" Piersall grinned at Cindy as the siren went on, clearing traffic out of the way. "I hope nobody finds out about that. You don't need a thirty-thousand-dollar education if you can wave a ten-buck stethoscope."
The policeman shut off his siren and Dr. Piersall bounced up the driveway. The parking-lot attendant was running up, spluttering at this cavalier violation of his authority. Dr. Piersall shouted, "Space one-seventy-six at CMH," and trotted up the steps to the lobby, Cindy following close behind.
"That never worked when I drove a Chevy," Dr. Piersall confided. He identified himself at the desk, and Cindy and the doctor went upstairs to see her mother.
Mona lay awake, her face turned away from the door. Her shoulders tensed visibly when her daughter and the psychiatrist entered.
"Mom?" Mona turned at Cindy's voice. "How are you? Doctor Piersall brought me so I wouldn't have to wait for visiting hours."
"I guess I'm all right, honey," Mona answered. Her voice was flat, the tone as pale as her face. One side of her forehead showed a trace of a bruise peeking from under the gauze pad. Her fine black hair floated over the pillow.
Mona looked listless. Her morbid recollections of the rape had bleached the usual liveliness from her features. Her full lips turned down and she avoided Cindy's eyes.
"I came as soon as Cindy told me," Dr. Piersall said, moving closer. "Did the staff tell you when you would be released?" He picked the chart from the foot of Mona's bed.
"Sometime today," Mona answered. "I don't know if I want to go home. The policeman said I could have brought it on myself. I'm afraid he was right."
"Mom! Don't say that! You know Ron's never been any good for you," Cindy interjected. "He's just terrible, Doctor! He's drunk all the time, and he got mad because Mom broke up with him. He called last night, twice, to see if Mom was at home or working."
"There's no reason to feel that any of this is your fault, Mrs. Russell-Mona," Piersall corrected himself. He rummaged in his bag and moved around the bed, checking Mona's physical signs. "Many women, especially those without husbands-look at my finger-are fair game for sociopathic personalities. This man sounds like one of these-now over here-predators. Not your fault at all, Mona." He settled back and looked at her. "Do you know if he's ever been hospitalized?"
"I never knew very much about him at all," Mona answered. "Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
"You told me that he drank free at the Lucky Lady. It all seems to fit a diagnostic pattern." Piersall stood up. "Would you like to go home? All you need is rest, and you don't need a hospital for that."
"Yes, please come home, Mom," Cindy begged. "I can take care of you as well as the hospital can." She looked hopefully at her mother.
"You're sure it's all right?" Mona asked. Dr. Piersall nodded. "Well, okay. How soon can you get me checked out of this place?"
"Right away, if you'll come to my office at six-thirty tonight. I think we need to discuss your feelings about this incident," Piersall replied. "You apparently have some ambivalence that needs to be resolved. The physical harm is not great, but we must consider your psyche and your future relationships with men."
Mona was dressed to the teeth when she arrived at Dr. Piersall's office that evening. She had assured her daughter that she could navigate, though her long legs were still a trifle wobbly.
I really don't know why I'm here. I haven't even had time to figure it out, so how can I talk to him about it?
I'm not even worth his time. At forty bucks an hour, I can't afford it. Besides, I came! I came over and over. They degraded me, and I deserved it!
And what the hell can he do? It's partly his fault, too. I would have known those men were there if I hadn't been so worried about how I'm going to pay his bill.
No, that's not fair. Even the police seemed to think it was my fault. I bet they won't even try to catch Ron, and if they do, I'll have to go to court. And how can I tell who the others were? Have a lineup of penises?
Mona wondered if her hair concealed the bandage on her forehead. She nodded shortly at the receptionist as the tall redhead passed her on the walk.
Mack Piersall was waiting in the kitchen of the converted apartment when Mona entered. "I almost thought you wouldn't come," he said. "I'm glad to see you made it."
"Are you? I nearly went back." Mona touched her bandage nervously. "I guess we'd better get started." She moved down the hall and turned toward the office.
"This way, please," Piersall said, opening a stairwell door. "In a case like this, I think psychodrama would be a better start than conventional therapies." He flicked on a light and went down the stairs.
Mona teetered behind him, stepping carefully in her high heels. "What do you mean, Doctor? What good will play-acting do me? I don't even want to think about this whole mess. I wish I hadn't come here at all!"
Piersall opened a windowless room, cut into the side of the hill. "That's exactly the problem! I want you to pretend that I'm Ron and all the other men, You should have a chance to work out all your bitterness before it sours you on all relationships." He opened a cupboard full of dimly-seen paraphernalia.
Mona's eyes brightened. "You mean I should do whatever I want to you? I can tell you everything or punish you, since I don't have a chance to get them?" Mona began to sweat, then she trembled. "But you're bigger than me, and a lot stronger. I-I'm afraid to do it."
Mack Piersall pulled a tangle of straps and cuffs out of the cupboard. "That's what these are for. You can make sure I won't be able to reach you by tying me up. Just say where you want me." Dr. Piersall looked as coolly as he could at Mona. His brown eyes were level, but tinged with apprehension. "The only rule is, no permanent injury. I'd rather you didn't leave marks that show."
A cruel smile grew on Mona's face. "How about over on that couch?" She set her purse down in the corner. "Lie down on your back, Doctor. I had to watch those men, so you're going to watch, too."
"That's the spirit, Mona," Mack Piersall said, attaching the cuffs to his wrists. "I think this will prove to be exceptionally therapeutic." He lay back, putting his arms over the upraised end of the couch.
Mona tightened the straps around the legs of the couch. She untangled the anklets and lashed Dr. Piersall's feet securely. "There. Now let's see you try to move."
Mona stood in the middle of the little room and surveyed the supine psychiatrist. He was spread-eagled on the dark leatherette, craning his neck to look at her. She grinned bitterly at him.
"You like to look at women, don't you?" Mona sneered. "You like to use us and rip us off and fuck us. A little bit of prick and you figure I'm all yours, huh?" Mona stalked over to the couch and opened his fly. She tugged the half-hard member out.
"What makes you think that's worth anything to me? It's not even hard yet!" Mona squeezed the spongy stem. "Haven't you men got anything better to show? All I got out of the first one I ever saw was a baby. I didn't even know how to cum until after Cindy was born!" Mona pulled the limber meat upward. "Come on, stud, where is it? Where's this hard-on that I'm supposed to crawl after?"
Mona dropped Piersall's cock. She walked to the cupboard. "There must be something more interesting down here. You didn't outfit this room so you could show your female patients a soft-on."
"That's good, Mona," Piersall said. "You're working into it very well. Strong negative transference."
"Shut up. I don't need a bunch of fake scientific crap from you!" Mona dragged more bonds out, spilling them over the floor. "Ah! A dildo! I should have stuck with one of these-they don't lie to you. They're hard all the time, and they don't drink up your booze and treat you like shit."
"They can't hold you when you're lonely, Mona," Piersall said softly.
"I told you to shut up! You're at my mercy for a change. I don't want one more goddamn word out of you!" Mona shouted. She fondled the smooth white plastic of the dildo. "I ought to ram this up your ass so you'll know how I felt last night." She unbuttoned her dark-green dress, letting the mock cock fall to the carpet.
Purple splotches appeared above the rim of Mona's brassiere. She walked back and forth at the foot of the couch, moving sensuously past the psychiatrist. Her full breasts overflowed the bra as she stooped to slide the dress down. Stepping out of it, Mona looked haughtily at Dr. Piersall.
"How does it feel, being helpless while I get naked in front of you? What's the big man think when I'd rather have a piece of plastic than his marvelous penis?" Mona stood with her legs spread, leering hostilely at him. Her beige bra and panties accented the slender fullness of her figure. The dark-brown stockings made her smooth legs gleam under the single naked bulb in the ceiling.
"Come on, where's the hard-on? I bet you look at pictures with more clothes on than this and it stands up. Let's see it, Mack." Mona ground her hips suggestively at him. "You want to see my tits? Here, look! All bruised, but a REAL man wouldn't mind. It was a real stud that did this to me!" Mona reached back and unhooked the catch. She bent forward and the cups fell away from her lush bosom.
Mona had exaggerated the bruises. Four purple marks ringed one nipple, but the creamy flesh looked cool and untouched everywhere else. She put her hands under the delectable mounds and squeezed them toward him. "Nice, huh? Here, watch my nipples stand up." She rubbed her thumbs across the coral dots and they stiffened instantly. "Would you like to kiss that, huh?" Mona put both hands around the unbruised breast. She ovaled her full lips and licked her tongue out lasciviously. Mona licked two fingers and rubbed the saliva into the rigid button of her nipple. It gleamed wetly, as juicy as a ripe cherry.
Mona knelt beside the couch. "Kiss it a little, Mack." She put her breast over his face, pulling away as his mouth approached. "No, just lick it. Maybe that will stiffen your prick."
Dr. Piersall stuck his tongue out, straining toward the coral nugget. Mona kept her luscious tit far enough away that he could just touch the tip. Mack bathed the sides of the little spire.
"That's right. Just a little bit," Mona gloated, straightening her spine. "None of that," she cautioned, stopping the doctor's lunge with her palm. "You only get what I want to give you, and when I want to give it."
Mona stood up again. "Well, it's getting a little harder," she said, flicking the lengthening member with her fingertips. "You'd better do more than that, Doctor, if you want to cure me," Mona laughed.
"What about pussy? Do you like pussy better?" Mona looked down at Dr. Piersall's body. She spread her knees wide and smoothed her beige panties over the sweet rise of her labia. The pout of her cuntlips showed through the cloth. Her thick bush was pressed flat against her mound, barely letting the vertical crease appear.
Mona pulled the waist of her panties down. A half-inch band of white skin showed between her garter belt and the curly fringe. Slowly, sensuously, Mona rotated her pelvis and slipped the cloth down. The garter straps appeared above her thumbs, lengthening deliberately as her pussy came into view.
"Is that doing anything for you, stud?" Mona asked. "Why, I do believe it's almost hard enough! How nice! Should I bring in my daughter, so you can teach her about it? A few dozen women off the street? Wouldn't you love to have us all here, hypnotized by the privilege of seeing that thing stand up?"
Mona saw that her words were having an effect. Dr. Piersall's therapeutic meat was growing wider and longer. She stopped sliding her panties and fluffed the freestanding hair above the waistband. "Do you like them bushy, or should I shave my snatch so you can see it better? Just tell me what you'd like, sweetie. I love to please men!" Half of her pussy showed, with the hair gleaming blue-black in the light.
"Do you, Mona?" Dr. Piersall queried. "Your voice doesn't sound as if you do."
"Oh, I do," Mona answered. Venomous snakes hissed in her voice and her long, elegant fingers curved into claws. "I really love men." Mona stood over him, her breasts heaving. She loosened his necktie.
"Let me show you how I love men and the way they treat me," she purred. Her grey eyes looked like chips of stone. Mona slid her panties down, stepping out of them with deliberate slowness. She ran her palms sensuously up her legs, caressing her sides, waist and breasts. "This body loves men. It's a good body." Mawkishly swift, Mona stooped, then pulled her panties over his head.
"You like the smell of my cunt? Ron thought I loved his boozy stink." Mona stretched the bikini tight over Dr. Piersall's face, mashing his nose with the crotch. Only his eyes and chin showed past the bizarre mask. "There. Isn't that nice?"
Mona stood, her hands on her hips. "God, you look absurd." She stripped his necktie off and ripped the front of his shirt open. The belt and his slacks were the work of a second. Mona pulled them down below his knees. "That's better. Comfortable, Doctor? Do you feel nice and sexy? You know, I'm supposed to get hot when some man has me helpless. Does it work for you?"
Mack Piersall didn't reply. He looked at her as soberly as he could. His prick stood clear of his belly, rigid as an oak spar. God damn! She is one helluva sexy woman. Those tits are the best I've ever seen and her pussy's perfect! I never saw such a thick, black bush on such white skin! And stockings and heels! Shit, does she know what she's doing to me? Now I see why her daughter makes my nuts roar.
"Well, does it make you hot? That prick's finally hard. Should I applaud you?" Mona asked. She walked back and forth at the foot of the couch. Her buttocks, bruised though they were, rolled fluidly as she moved away. Her pubic zone tipped from side to side with her high-heeled walk, the hairs gradually puffing out with each step.
Mona walked away, holding his necktie in one hand. It dragged behind her like a silky tail until she spun around. "I don't want your cock! I don't want you looking at me with a hard-on!" Mona lashed the tie across Mack Piersall's loins.
The narrow end of the cloth was too light to hurt. It wrapped around his cockshaft, pulling the stiff organ to the side. Dr. Piersall flinched from the blow. His prick vibrated back to center. The necktie flashed over his glans and the erotic thrill sliced his nerves to ribbons. He struggled in his bonds.
"You sonofabitch! You like it! God, what I'd do for a real man! All I get is souses and saps," Mona shrilled. She bent over the doctor's crotch and wrapped the necktie loosely around his penis. Mona stood back and examined her handiwork.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mack, I forgot," Mona said. She grabbed the tie and wadded it into a ball. "You men want cunt. Here, have some cunt, honey." She rubbed the slick cloth over her pussy. "Isn't that it?" She rewrapped his prick with the aromatic band. "You'd wade through boiling shit for a couple of pokes into somebody's snatch. Now you've got all you're gonna have of mine.
"Are you going to cum, Doctor? Does that excite you? Ron always thought his dirty mouth turned me on," Mona snarled. "What about it? It looks pretty hard!"
"Actually, watching you arouses me," Dr. Piersall said mildly. "You're an extremely attractive woman." The panties puffed out with his words. And I wish I'd met you outside the office. Just thinking about you and Cindy makes my balls ache!
"Well, get an eyeful, Mack. I don't need you. I don't need any man. I'm sick of getting fucked! Nobody ever makes love with me any more. I can do better myself," Mona said. Tears crept into her voice. "This pussy,"-she spread her labia showing him the deep-pink crevice,-"is better off without men. Men never did me any good. David died and left me with a kid to raise." Mona stroked the edges of her pussylips with both hands. "My mother had to raise me after Daddy left. You took me home from the hospital, and left me. What's wrong with you people? Why do I have to do it all myself?"
Mona picked up the dildo and caressed it. She fondled the smooth, porcelain-white model and her face softened. "This is all you men think I need, just a penis whenever you want to give it to me. And then you shoot off and go away." Mona brought the knob to the mouth of her vagina, parting her pussylips with two fingers. She worked the blunt end against her moistening flesh.
"Oh! There, you see? I don't need you." Mona moved the dildo back and forth, barely entering her abused channel. "I can do it." The pink valley between her labia darkened as she aroused herself further. Mona pressed the plastic prick deeper, rolling her hips.
"Ummhh! See? I don't-ahh-ram it in all the way. Just-yeah! A little at a time. That's nice," Mona crooned. She bent her knees out to the side. Her pelvis moved bonelessly, in easy, flowing ripples. An inch of the fake phallus slid into her moist pussy.
Mack watched Mona banging herself. She looked fantastically sensuous. Her mouth opened slowly and her tongue flickered over her full red lips. Her eyes had the soft, heavy-lidded gleam of passion. Mack's prick stiffened even more in the loose coils of his pussy-scented necktie. It became an iron bar growing from his belly.
The panties filtered his breath. Mack smelled Mona's pussy constantly. He knew his face was turning red under the thin cloth. The psychiatrist's neck ached from the strain of watching the lovely woman with the dildo.
"Oh, that's good," Mona hummed. "You like watching me, don't you?" The dildo glistened with her juices as Mona moved it slowly in and out of her vagina. She flexed her legs, moving her entire body up and down on the phony prick. "I can cum this way, Doctor, I can cum a lot this way." Mona closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Her slender throat showed every delicate line and muscle, bobbing in time with the deep penetrations in her pussy.
Mona's magnificent breasts flattened as she arched her back. She murmured tiny love sounds to herself as the tempo slowly increased, "Oh, now! That's the way, Mona. Gawd, it's so beautiful. It feels so nice, so very nice!" She grasped the fist-sized knob at the base of her pussy-pleaser and moved it in slow circles.
Mack Piersall moved his hips in tiny fuck-motions. The excited, penetrated aroma of Mona's pussy set fire to his brain. He could smell her arousal through the panties. His cock was unbelievably hard. He pulled at the straps that tethered him to the couch, wanting to break loose and take Mona on the spot.
Mona brought one hand to her breast. She caressed the creamy mound and the nipple stood up, hard and red. Watching her caress the firm springiness made Dr. Piersall's hands burn with need.
"I love it! It fills me up-oowwhh!-so good! I'm starting to cum, Doctor," Mona gasped. "I could keep on all day!" Her hairdo fell apart more with each lascivious, swaying motion of her head.
Mona staggered up from the foot of the couch. "I-I always wanted a man to watch me," she groaned. "It's so beautiful this way!" Her pussy was less than a foot from Dr. Piersall's face.
Mona put both hands on the base of the dildo and increased the tempo of her lewd strokes. Her inner cuntlips were crimson, clinging wetly to the plastic shaft. Each languid withdrawal pulled the soft petals outward until the end of her clitoris winked in the light. The in-strokes were faster, hiding the fiery button. Her vagina made moist noises with the dildo's movements, kissing and sucking at the lecherous device.
Mack Piersall drooled at the sight. He felt the heat radiating from Mona's crotch, bathing his skin with lubricious warmth. He watched every contractions of her sphincter on the dildo. The black cuntal hair framed his vision. He could see nothing but white plastic moving in the wet crimson of her orgasmic flesh.
Gumming on and on, Mona sank toward the floor. The psychiatrist's muscles cramped against the bonds as he tried to keep his eyes on the spectacle of Mona's orgasm.
Mona muttered as her face sunk onto the couch. "What? What is it, Mona?" Dr. Piersall asked. His whole body ached with the torment of watching her tempting actions.
"Grease," she whispered. "I want some grease."
"In the cupboard," Mack answered, confused. She can't be getting dry! I can hear how wet she is!
Mona rose to her feet. She was bent over, still sliding the dildo in and out of her pussy. Mack Piersall watched the grey-pink bud of her rectum open and close with each step. Her buttocks clenched and melted in time to her orgasmic panting. Psychodrama props clattered from the shelves as the near-nude woman searched.
She teetered back, still wearing her high-heeled shoes. Mona bit her lip, concentrating, trying to keep the fuck-movements going in her pussy. She clutched a jar in one hand.
"I'm a slut," she said. "I came while they raped me. I sucked them and they fucked me, and I kept cumming," Mona knelt next to the couch. "They hurt me. I wanted to throw up, but I kept cunming." She smeared grease roughly on Mack Piersall's prick.
"The only thing they missed was my ass. I deserved it! That's the only way I didn't cum!" Mona dropped the jar. She straddled his legs. Her full breasts hung above the psychiatrist's bound ankles. "Ron kept saying he was going to do it, but he didn't. They all left. Even those fucking animals left me!"
Mack was baffled. I should say something. I should do something to help her. She's in the middle of a psychotic break. I never had anything go this far! I never saw such a beautiful ass. My god! She's leaving the dildo in her cunt! How could a man abuse a pussy with that much control?
She's actually going to do it! Mona's greasing her ass! The dildo 's moving while she holds my prick!
Mona grasped his organ with one hand and held it upright. It was as hard as a crowbar. Mack rolled his hips, arching his back to keep her from wrenching the meat off his body.
She put a hand on one smooth asscheek, trying to pry herself open. "Please, Doctor! I need to have my ass fucked! Please help! Help me get it into me!" Mona whimpered, trying to see between her spread thighs.
The knob on the end of the dildo was in the way. Mona saw nothing but the doctor's hairy sac. She lowered her hips an inch at a time, moving the greased tip of his prick until it touched her rectum. Mona mewed with frustration when it didn't slip in immediately.
"Oh, goddammit, PLEASE! I need it," she moaned. "Nobody ever gave it to me. Not ever, no ever, ever! Even Ron didn't, and he said he would, but he didn't! Oh! Uh-huh, yes! Fuck, fuck me, fuck my ass, Doctor!"
Mack strained upward. The ring of muscle clamped shut, then opened for a fraction of a second. Every time Mona tried to lodge his tool in her ass, their jabs were too late. Again and again, Mack Piersall tried to shove his cock into his patient's asshole.
Mona sat down on his prick. She had the tip barely captured. It stuck right at the entrance to her ass. She released the shaft and pried her buttocks apart with both hands. "Oh, there! Come on, come on! Th-th-there, yes, like that! I'm getting it, Mack! Fuck, fuck! I'm spli-spli-splitting in ha-half!" Her sphincter slowly accepted the invading shaft. Mona clawed at her ass-cleavage, trying to open further. The muscle contracted as the broad edges of Dr. Piersall's glans passed, and Mona knew she'd won the battle.
"Oh gawd, that's good," she hummed. "I need it so bad!" Mona slid down on the grease-slicked wand until her guts rebelled against the steely intruder. She rode up and down on it.
Mack Piersall lay on his back under her. He could move only his head and his cock. The psychiatrist rolled his hips with the rhythm of Mona's languorous ass-strokes. The beauty of Mona's back and the greasy feeling in his loins cut into him like a knife.
Mona sat up on the doctor's thick pole. Her thighs flexed, moving her violated flesh along the shaft. She felt the blinding power of her first long cum returning.
Mona lay slowly back, straightening her legs. She moved against Mack's prick with fluid rolls of her hips. Her body had never felt so incredibly full.
Her hands went down to the base of the dildo. Each rocking move of her hips brought her alternately toward Mack's prick and away from the dildo. She slid the plastic tool in and out of her cunt with accelerating strokes.
Mack began to moan under her. He felt the mock-cock pressing against his prick through the thin membrane. Her ass gripped him like a pulsing band while the dildo milked up and down on his cum-tube.
Mona gasped and grunted as she moved faster. "Oh, yeah, I'm cumming ... come on, you too, you too! Fill me, fuck! Fill me up, Mack! Make me feel it, please! Do it soon, please? Oh, Mack, Mack, ahh, ahh ... GAAAH! GOD DAMN! EEAAHH!" she yodeled.
Mona writhed and spasmed around the two impaling cocks. She jammed the dildo brutally into her pussy, grinding the base against her clit. Her ass clenched tight around Mack's prick. Her heels dug into the couch and she dragged herself down, down, until the lewd fullness reached her throat.
Mack arched his back, raising them both off the couch. Huge gouts of seed burst from his prick. His pistoning member drove the cum far into her guts, washing Mona's innards. The furry feeling of her ass turned to an agonizing slickness that seared his cockhead.
Mona screamed, grinding her loins against both weapons long after Mack had collapsed under her. The mind-wrenching orgasm went on and on, filling her brain and body until she passed out, still impaled on his captive prick and the dildo.