Honeymoon Hell

Chapter 03 – Tipping Mrs. Kline’s Velvet

 

      “Now, Mrs. Chapman, if you don’t want more knocking about, you’ll do as your told,” said Mrs. Kline as soon as we reached her accommodations.

     “Yes, Ma’am,” I said wanting above all to avoid a further beating.  I could still taste the blood in my mouth.  My upper lip was split and my ribs sore.  To say I wasn’t used to such treatment was an understatement.  I had never been subjected to violence of any kind.  Mrs. Kline’s brutal fists had left me trembling and afraid.  Add to that, the fact I was stripped naked in front of strangers and had my person violated in a most public and vile fashion and you have an accurate picture of my wretched condition.

     If only my Papa were here, none of this would have happened.  He would have put Lord Walshingham in his place.  Poor Percy, I hope that horrible ruffian Mr. Hornsby doesn’t harm him or force him to do anything unmanly.

     “Sweetly said, I think the four of us are going to get along all right,” said Mrs. Kline beginning to undress.  “What do you think, Liza?”

     “They say fine ladies have the softest tongue for tipping the velvet,” said Mary.  “Tell us, Mrs. Chapman, have you ever eaten pussy before?”

     When I expressed my willingness to cooperate, I had no idea they intended for me to commit the sin that dare not speak its name.  Sapphic love was so repellant to my nature I immediately withdrew my consent.  “No, of course not, that is a horrid, perverted act.  For a lady such as myself, it is out of the question,” I replied.  “Where is Percy?  I demand to see my husband.”

     “I would hazard to guess he is sucking Mr. Hornsby’s cock,” said Mrs. Kline.

     “Or taking it up his bum” added Liza with a giggle.

     My mind reeled at the thought of my Percy being sodomised.  I doubted a genteel and noble spirit like my husband could survive such depravity.

     “Which I can tell you from my own experience is likely to disturb your shits for days on end,” said Mary bending over to flip her skirt over her back displaying the fact she wasn’t wearing undergarments.  The perversity of Lord Walshingham and his servants was unbounded.

     “The Governor does not keep men in his service with small cocks,” said Mrs. Kline.  “Your husband looks to be the sort that has been buggered before.  I suggest you leave off worrying about your Mister and concentrate on what will keep you from another trashing,” said Mrs. Kline removing her chemise to reveal enormous breasts.  “Cone here and give my boobies a nice kiss.”

     I stood transfixed as she lifted her breasts offering them to me.  In spite of the situation, I could not bring myself to place my mouth in contact with her perverted flesh.      

    “So that’s how it is, Mrs. Chapman.  Instead of enjoying a nice lying in, you’d prefer to have your ass whipped.  They say some ladies of quality are into being knocked about.  It makes them randy.   Are you going to tip the velvet willingly or will you require further persuading?” asked Mrs. Kline unfastening her skirt.

     “I’m sorry. I just can’t.  No matter what you do to me, I will not perform such an unchristian act,” I said defiantly.

     “Get her ready, girls,” said Mrs. Kline growing angry.  “She’ll soon be begging to lick our twats.”

     I didn’t physically resist but did plead with all my heart for mercy as they tied my hands and ankles to the bedposts.  I was left standing at the foot of the oversized bed with my arms and legs outstretched.  The position reminded me of Our Savior’s time on the cross.  I took solace from the similarity and vowed that no matter how much I suffered to refuse to join in such sinful behavior.

     However, I was to quickly learn that those who follow the devil have the power to overcome even the most determined believer in the Good Lord.  I had hoped to act like one of the early Christian martyrs resisting evil until the last; but I proved to be of weaker stuff.

     To say, our honeymoon had not gotten off to a good start is an understatement.  I was looking forward to our first night together.  My mother had taken me aside before the wedding and explained my wifely duties in the boudoir.  I was somewhat aghast at certain practices but Mother assured me they were expected and I was not to refuse Percy.

     “Do what he asks and he will be a happy husband.  I have never refused your father anything and he can be very demanding,” was my Mother’s advice.  Mother’s descriptions of possible acts I would be asked to perform in the marriage bed peaked my curiosity, making me intensely curious how my husband would use me for his pleasure.

     I was beyond excited at the prospect of losing my maidenhead to Percy and anxious to learn what demands he would make.  But as the Belgravia left the harbor, the sea became rough and we both suffered mal de mer of the worst sort.  Ill to the point of being unable to hold our head up, we repaired to separate state rooms.  The next day the storm worsened.  It wasn’t until we were about to dock in Liverpool that the ocean calmed.  Percy and I maintained good humor in spite of our disappointment.  I was giddy with excitement at the prospect of becoming his wife in more than name once we reached the Savoy.

      From the first moment at the train station, I sensed something was amiss and I warned Percy not to accept the transport offered by Mr. Hornsby.  But my new husband ignored my misgivings and happily agreed to go along.  It wasn’t until we were headed out of London that Percy objected.  However, his protests were silenced by the appearance of a revolver in Mr. Hornsby’s hand.

     At Lord Walshingham’s the sudden appearance of Harry Pelham had proved to be quite a shock.  Harry‘s behavior was beyond rude, proving my decision not to accept his suit was a wise one.  The man is a cad and a mountebank.  When we return to New York, I will see that he is ignored by polite society.  Percy was absolutely correct to end their friendship.  The fact that I argued with Percy against dropping him from our circle proves the inferior judgment of my sex in such matters.

     I was trying hard not to recall the ignominy visited on my by Lord Walshingham.  The savage beating had been eclipsed by the intense shame of being stripped naked in front of strangers.  And the abject humiliation of being turned upside down and having my most personal and private parts violated by the Lord and Harry’s rude fingers was beyond anything I had experienced in my eighteen years.  I had been treated no better than a girl of the docks who pleasured sailors for a few pennies.

     The prospect of losing my virginity to Harry or his Uncle was too dreadful to contemplate.   Harry would make me his whore to humiliate Percy.  I resolved that no matter who violates my body, in my heart, I will be true to my beloved husband.

          “Show her what’s expected, Liza’ said Mrs. Kline interrupting my guilty thoughts.

     Without the slightest hesitation, the little blonde climbed onto the bed, flipped over on her back and positioned her head between my outstretched legs.  I howled in shame as her tongue flickered across my most personal and private parts.  I was being subjected to the most horrible sin known to womankind.  It was the one sin that could never be atoned for.  I faced the prospect of burning in hell fires for all eternity.

      “She tastes like a lady,” said Liza performing in a practiced fashion indicating my sex was not the first she had violated.  The attack of her tongue upon my sex drew forth a flood of physical pleasure reminding me of Satan’s power.

     Liza’s hand was buried in her own sex, briskly rubbing the knob of flesh my mother referred to as the love button.  Mother had emphasized how important it was to my enjoyment of matrimony and that I was to encourage Percy to kiss me there.

     “Your father has quite the taste for mine and will spend hours kissing it,” was her comment.  I had been shocked that my beloved father had engaged in such a practice but Mother assured me that it was permitted within the confines of the marriage bed.

      I tried to move but Liza reached her arm around to grasp my buttocks.  She held me firmly in place while her tongue licked my button spreading warmth between my thighs.  A sense of guilt pervaded my being at the unexpected wave of pleasure her tongue brought me.  I struggled without success to clear my mind and body of such filth.

     Mrs. Kline pulled my head back by brutally grabbing a handful of my hair.  I felt the tendons in my neck stretch as her tongue invaded my ear covering it with her saliva.

      “Before this night is out, Mrs. Chapman, you are going to be doing the same thing to me as Liza is doing to you,” whispered Mrs. Kline as she violated my aural cavity with the tip of her tongue.  Her hand found its way to my breast and her strong fingers flattened my nipple.  At the time, I thought it the most horrible fate a Christian woman could endure; but I was wrong.

      “Never,” I said.  Liza’s actions were not proving painful.  In fact, they were having the opposite effect.  I recalled the words of Preacher Elliot that sin is both pleasurable and seductive, making it all the harder to for a Christian to resist.  God was severely testing me.

     “Put the crocodiles on her, Mary,” said Mrs. Kline roughly slapping my breast. 

     “Yes, Mrs. Kline,” said the redheaded girl in her Irish brogue as she eagerly rushed to a nearby chest and removed two cone shaped brass objects decorated in the motif of the killer reptile of savage India.

     Seconds later I felt the cold metal as Mary fitted the cone over my left breast while Mrs. Kline offered a detailed explanation of how such a fiendish device came to be in an English country manor.

     “The tenth earl of Monmouth served with Clive in India during the Sepoy revolt.  The crocodiles were a gift from the Maharajah of Sind for helping him suppress the rebellion.  After the enemy was defeated and the rebels executed, General Dracut and the Maharajah made an example of their wives, forcing them into bordellos for his majesty’s army.”

     “But the wives and daughters of the rebel leaders were stripped naked in the town square of Hyderabad.  A great crowd gathered to watch them being gang raped by criminals.  Each was raped forty four times, a mystical number to the ungodly of the place.  Then crocodiles like these were applied to their tits and their pussies impaled on a blunt stake.  They were left to rot in the sun.”

    “In gratitude, the Maharajah gave the General, a pair of crocodiles made of pure gold.  They hang in the trophy room.  The ones you’ll be wearing are made of brass and have brought many a haughty lady around to the Lord’s way of thinking.”

     As Mrs. Kline recounted her tale, I felt the base of my nipple being captured in a loop of stout thread then felt it drawn tight around the base.

     “Got it,” said Mary threading the twine through the open narrow end of the cone.

     “Mary’s quite the clever one when it comes to making a lady change her mind,” said Mrs. Kline.

     When the twine appeared at the narrow end, she pulled it tight, drawing my breast into the cone.  I cried out in pain as the flesh was stretched well beyond comfort.  I was amazed when my tiny bud appeared horribly elongated at the open end.

     “Got you,” said Mary releasing a trigger that caused a metal ring to snap shut imprisoning my tendril of flesh.  I sounded a loud wail of misery as the shock traveled through my breast.  The pain was absolutely hellish. 

     “Hurts like the devil, does it?” said Mary admiring her handiwork as I begged for her to remove the hideous device.

      “Oh, please, take if off.  My father is rich and will pay you well,” I pleaded.

      They ignored my offer.

      “Now to put the old squeeze on your tit,” said Mary as she proceeded to turn a screw at the base causing the cone circumference to narrow, crushing my breast, forcing it to assume the same shape as its prison.  I howled in misery as the metal compressed the flesh.  I had heard tales of the insidious nature of the torture instruments of heathen races but had not believed anyone capable of such cruelty to a fellow Caucasian.  Obviously, I was wrong.

     Mary immediately attacked the other breast.  The pain having been once experienced was no less.  I opened my mouth and screamed to the ceiling hoping someone would come to my aid.  The weight of he crocodiles pulled my breasts downward adding to my misery.

     “Ready to beg for the privilege of licking my pussy?’ asked Mrs. Kline. 

     I still had the will to resist and I cried, “Never.”

     Tears came to my eyes as I fought to retain control and resist giving in to their wishes.  All the while, Liza’s tongue played across my sex, combining hellish pain with sexual pleasure.  Something only the truly evil can produce.

     Distraught and almost in a faint, I silently prayed to the Almighty for strength.  Adding to my despair was the realization that Liza’s lips and tongue had caused my vulva to grow wet with my secretions.  I desperately called on the Lord My Savior to help me maintain my virtue.

     “Two to start, Mary,” said Mrs. Kline as she removed what I took to be a cat-o-nine from the same chest where Mary found the crocodiles.  A wave of terror passed over me as I watched Mrs. Kline wield the whip against the chest.

     “Two it is,” said Mary selecting two long needles from a flat wooden box resting on the bed.  I had not noticed it until that moment.  I watched as Mary opened a bottle of dark liquid and coated the tip of the needle.

     At that moment, my back exploded in pain.  Mrs. Kline had applied the cat with considerable force.  I howled as loud as I was capable, hoping in vain to bring someone to my rescue.

     “Only a sample, Mrs. Chapman, only a wee sample of what’s in store for you,” whispered Mrs. Kline in my ear.

     She held one of the strands of the whip in front of my face.  “See the tiny knots on the tip.”

     Although my vision was clouded with pain, I observed the twisted leather.  “Yes,” I whispered as my body attempted to deal with its pain.

     “The filthy Turks came up with them.  They strip the flesh right you’re your back,” said Mrs. Kline.   “Go ahead, Mary, let’s see how loud Mrs. Chapman can scream.”    

     “I always start at the tip,” said Mary smilingly as she positioned the point of the needle in a hole near the end of the cone then began to push inward.  I could only hope for divine intervention that would cause Mrs. Kline and the others to come to their senses and stop their torture.

     But it was not to be.  The agony of having my delicate flesh pierced exceeded anything I had experienced.  I felt the point break the surface and slowly travel through my breast.  The bloody tip emerged from the other side of the cone having found its companion hole.  Immediately, I felt an intense burning.

     “Cobra venom,” said Mary holding the bottle for me to see.

     “From the spitting cobra, the venom does not kill but is incredibly painful when it finds its way under the skin,” added Mrs. Kline.  “Another trick learned in India by the Governor’s family.”

     I was in too much pain to protest as Mary penetrated the other breast.    

     “I’m practically drowning down here.  She’s dripping like a Cheapside doxie,” said Liza from between my legs.

     “Let me see,” said Mrs. Kline reaching between my legs to coat her fingers with my bodily secretions then forcing them into my mouth before putting them to her red lips.

     “You taste ever so nice, Mrs. Chapman,” said Mrs. Kline licking her fingers in an act so perverse my mind had difficulty grasping it.

     “Now for five of my best,” said Mrs. Kline, before, once again, forcefully landing the cat on my back.

     I screamed in pain; but my plea for mercy was interrupted by a second strike that left me almost paralyzed.  After three additional blows, Liza applied a second pair of needles further away from the tip.  The flesh was thicker there and the pain greater.  She twirled the needle causing me no end of misery.

     Mrs. Kline applied the cat with great vigor and for the first time, I felt my will to resist slipping away.  There is only so much a human body can stand.  The third pair of pins was halfway on the cone and the sensation of the sharp metal slowly working its way through the thickest part of my flesh was unbearable.   The burning brought about by the venom did not lessen over time.

     Another five tastes of the cat and my will collapsed during the insertion of the next pair of venomous pins.  “Please, Mrs. Kline, I’ll do anything you want. But for the love of heaven, cease hurting me.  I cannot bare it.”

     Mrs. Kline studied my face for a moment before speaking.  “You better speak true because any back sliding on your part and we have something even worse.”

     “I promise to do what you ask,” I said unable to imagine what could be worse.

     “You’ll eat my pussy just like Liza is eating yours?” asked Mrs. Kline.

     “Yes, I’ll eat your pussy,” I said adopting her profanity to convince her of my sincerity.  My will to resist was completely gone.  I was a broken woman.  Satan had won.

     With their victory came magnanimity, I was quickly unbound and the horrible crocodiles removed.  A healing ointment was applied to my breasts and back.

     “Here, this will help,” said Mrs. Kline handing me a large goblet of Bordeaux.

     “I don’t drink spirits,” I responded refusing the outstretched glass.

     “Drink or else, you go back where you were,” said Mrs. Kline placing the glass in my hand.

     “I’ll drink,” I said hurrying the glass to my lips for a swallow.

     The four of us sat on the bed drinking wine.  The warmth of the drink eased my pain.

      “You’ve never used your mouth to pleasure a woman?” asked Mrs. Kline.

      “Never, I was raised to believe it a terrible sin,” I said.

      “Then you have much to learn,” said Mrs. Kline embracing me in a sinful kiss. 

      I was far too terrified to resist.  When her tongue found its way inside my mouth, my own tongue greeted it and in an act of satanic perversion followed hers back into her mouth.  I realized at that point that Lucifer had triumphed.  My feminine weakness was no match for his strength.  I resolved to give myself over to him with the hope that once clear of Ashcroft Hall, I would find a church and submit myself to God’s just punishment for my wickedness.

     I threw myself on Mrs. Kline causing her to fall back on to bed.  It took all my strength to spread her heavy thighs open giving me access to her sex.  I took a position between her legs and lowered my face to the mat of dark curly hairs that covered her mound.

      Satan’s power was such that the musky odor of her female sex combined with the aroma of her urine did not repel me.  In fact, the stench filling my nostrils acted as an aphrodisiac, urging me to lower my head and pass my tongue over her sex.

      “I told you ladies of quality love to tip the velvet,” said Liza to her partner as they attacked my rear with their mouths.  This time it was Mary who squirmed under me.  The sound of her lips smacking against my labia filled the room.  It was then that I felt Liza’s lip press against the opening reserved for the Devil’s Kiss.

     I was startled by the moans and sighs I sounded.  Eager to please Mrs. Kline and avoid further torture I did not hesitate to perform the act of sodomy.

     “Do my bunghole,” said Mrs. Kline grasping her heavy legs at the knees and pulling them toward her chest.  In spite of her size, she was remarkably flexible.  I marveled as her knees reached her ears, rotating her bottom to the ceiling.

     The rose of her anus came into my view.  I transferred my mouth to the opening designed by Almighty God for the elimination of bodily wastes and imitated a cat licking a pat of butter.   

     “Wet your finger and stick it in my bunghole,” said Mrs. Kline.

     I was too far in the clutches of Lucifer to resist. 

     “Ah, that’s nice,” said Mrs. Kline her muscle squeezing my digit, causing her sphincter to open and close around it.  The unnaturalness of the act astounded me.  The aroma of feces filled my nostrils.

     “Now put your finger in your mouth and taste my shit,” said Mrs. Kline.

     Later, I understood it was a test.  If I had refused, they would have resumed my torture until I agreed.  I slipped the stained digit in my mouth and used my tongue to remove the traces of excrement.  When finished, I held the pristine digit up for her to observe.

     Mrs. Kline lowered her legs.  “Excellent, I see you have learned your lesson.  Just remember that from this time on, you are no longer a lady.  Ladies don’t eat shit.”

     My degradation was undeniable.  From that day forward, when anyone referred to me as a lady, I recalled the taste of Mrs. Kline’s excrement.  Before the night was over, my fingers and tongue were to find their way inside Liza and Mary’s rectum. 

      The bed became a cauldron of writhing female flesh as the four of us worked to pleasure each other. I performed every act possible between women with the exception that my vagina remained unfilled.

     At some point, I felt my breath quicken and my heart race.  Mary and Liza were attacking my vulva with their warm mouths as their slippery digits penetrated my anus.  Mrs. Kline’s mouth was formed over one nipple as her fingers pressed and rolled the other, causing a sensation of half pain and half pleasure.  I heard myself scream as I flopped around on the bed like a swordfish landing on the deck of father’s yacht.  I blacked out for a few seconds.

     When I recovered enough to open my eyes, Mrs. Kline said, “Got off, did we, Mrs. Chapman?”

      “What happened? I asked wide eyed and amazed.

      “You had an orgasm,” said Mary wiping my secretions off her chin.

     “A powerful one, I’d say by the way your eyes rolled back up in your head.  Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Kline?” said Liza.

     “Yes, it was first class.  It appears that Mrs. Chapman is a whore.  Because that was a whore’s come if ever I saw one,” said Mrs. Kline.

     I was beyond caring what appellation Mrs. Kline applied to my being.

     “Can we get out the dildos, Mrs. Kline?  I fancy a fuck,” said Liza.

     “All right, but remember, nothing goes up Mrs. Chapman’s cunt.  When Lord Walshingham sticks his fingers in her pussy, he better find what he found last night.  Or the three of us, will wind up in the stables trying to fit Zeus’ cock in our holes,” said Mrs. Kline.

      “He wouldn’t do that. Would he?  That’s unnatural,” said Liza who had only recently joined the serving staff at Ashcroft Hall.

      “Ask Mabel in the kitchen what happened when she failed to follow the Governor’s orders,” said Mrs. Kline.

      Mary felt Mabel’s story needed telling immediately.  “The Governor made the staff gather in the courtyard.  Mr. Hornsby and Digger stripped her naked and tied her to a hitching post.  Mr. Hornsby gave her thirty lashes with a buggy whip.  Her backside didn’t have any skin when he was done,”

      “How awful,” said Liza.

      “The Governor wasn’t finished with her.  They bound poor Mabel over a small table with her rear hanging off and her wrists and ankles tied to the legs.   Next, they brought Ramses, the Governor’s new stallion, out along with Esmeralda, a mare in season.”

      Mrs. Kline felt the need to add to the story.  “Ramses was randy as they come.  His eyes had that crazed look, a stallion gets, when he smells a mare’s pussy that is ripe for a fucking.”

     Mary continued.  “Then Mr. Smythe, the Governor’s equerry, puts poor Mabel under Ramses.  He positions the animal’s cock at the entrance to her cunt and steps back.  I can still remember her scream when the beast entered her.  He gives it to her a dozen times before he released his love juice,” said Mary.

     “Ramses’ cock was as long as my arm and just as thick.  Yet it went in all the way,” added Mrs. Kline.

     I decided that Percy and I had fallen in with the most demoniac of people.  The idea of a stallion copulating with a girl was too horrible to contemplate.  Was there no limit to the depravity of the denizens of Ashcroft Hall?  Yet, I held my peace and merely commented, “It must have hurt terribly, poor Mabel.”

      “There was a puddle this wide of Mabel’s blood mixed with Ramses spunk lying on the cobblestones when we carried the poor girl inside,” said Mrs. Kline holding her hands apart.

      “You could stick your fist in her pussy and not touch the sides,” said Mary.

      “But she lived,” I asked?

      “Yes, Mabel was from Winchell Downs, a tough bunch that lot.  She was up and about inside a month,” said Mary.

      Mrs. Kline reached between my legs to gently explore my vagina.  Her fingers traced across my still intact hymen.  “So if we don’t want the skin wiped off your backside then have your sex split apart by a stallion, we need to make sure that this is what the Governor feels tomorrow when he deflowers Mrs. Chapman.”

     “Then Mrs. Chapman will be the one to wear the dildo,” said Mary pulling what I could only assume was a faux penis from the chest.  The dildo was center mounted on a triangle of leather.  Each point of the triangle was connected to belting.  I had never seen such a contraption.  I could only assume it was of French origin, given the perverse and wicked nature of the citizens of that country.

     “Yes, you can be the man, Mrs. Chapman and give us all a proper fucking,” said Mary.

     Moments later they had buckled a leather harness around my waist and thighs, fixing the India Rubber dildo firmly to my groin.  Curious, I grasped my artificial manhood, amazed at its length and girth.  The surface was covered with sizable bumps and point.  While the shaft was skin colored, the larger, bulbous head was reddish and flared back over the shaft. 

     Surely, this was some hellish exaggeration of what I could expect from Percy.  My hand could not encompass its circumference.  That such a sizeable instrument could fit inside me or any woman seemed impossible.

     “I’ll go first,” said Mrs. Kline taking a position on her knees and elbows presenting me with her broad bottom.  “Help her, Liza.  My pussy is starving for cock.”

     I took a kneeling position at her rear and grasped her hips.  Liza guided the cock into Mrs. Kline’s entrance then whispered into my ear, “She likes it rough so fuck her as hard as you can go.”

     My hands tightened their hold as I prepared to strike.  Thrusting forward with maximum effort, the dildo plunged inward as Mrs. Kline bellowed a cry that combined both pain and pleasure.

     “Oh, for the love of Jesus, that felt good,” gasped Mrs. Kline as I wedged myself between her buttocks seeking maximum depth. 

      Liza squirmed underneath Mrs. Kline to pleasure her with her mouth as I attacked with the dildo. Mary appeared at my side holding a fat cone shaped object.  Pointed on the end, it broadened to several inches before returning to a narrow neck that connected to a flat handle. 

     “Help me spread her ass, Mrs. Chapman,” said Mary pulling apart Mrs. Kline’s buttocks to expose her anus.  

     I continued to thrust as I complied with Mary’s request.  Without hesitating, Mary applied her tongue to the barely open anus.  Having moistened the opening, she inserted first one then a second finger inside.

      “Stretch my asshole open, you darling girls,” said Mrs. Kline wiggling her bottom to signal her approval of that most perverted act.

      As Mary positioned the point of the cone at the center of Mrs. Kline’s anus, I came to understand her prior efforts were intended to relax the orifice to accept the cone.  I watched as the muscles in Mary’s arm contracted to apply the physical force needed for insertion.  I marveled as the narrow opening slowly stretched to accept the every widening diameter.

     Loud cow like moans sounded from Mrs. Kline as the cone moved inward.  I would have thought it would do her injury but that was not to be.  It was not long before I sensed a connection between the massive dildo I was repeatedly thrusting into her anus and the object in her rectum.

     “I am in whore’s heaven,” loudly exclaimed Mrs. Kline as the widest part of the cone slipped past her sphincter and the wrinkled flesh closed around the narrow neck.  

     “Jiggle it back and forth like this,” said Mary showing me how to stimulate Mrs. Kline’s rectum. 

     “I grasped the small handle and used a combination of turns and pulses to stimulate her bowels, all the while thrusting hard into her vagina.  The sound of our thighs slapping provided background to Mrs. Kline’s loud sighs and moans.

      “Keep fucking her, Mrs. Chapman, while I suck her dugs,” said Mary before partially disappearing underneath Mrs. Kline.

      Mrs. Kline’s orgasm was neither quiet nor short.  A complete rotation of the anal plug handle triggered it.  A long string of the foulest profanity ever sounded by a civilized female escaped her lips as we three held on to her twisting form.  Our perspiration covered flesh became married to one another.  I sensed violent muscular contractions from within her body that much to my amazement were answered by my own contortions.   This continued for several moments before we collapsed completely winded and as covered in sweat as a hunter ridden to the hounds.

      “That was glorious,” said Mrs. Kline touching her fingers to her flowing sex then brings them to her lips.   She repeated the act for each of us and I found no reason to object when her liquor coated fingers slipped inside my mouth.

     I was forced to admit that I had given myself over to Satan and there was possibility of returning to my former state.  I was a ruined woman whose feet had left the path of righteousness, perhaps never to return.

     “I prefer to ride,” said Mary pressing me into the supine position.

     Liza steadied my faux penis as Mary straddled me.  She deftly placed the tip at her entrance then without a moment’s hesitation, lowered her body engulfing the massive shaft.

    “Fills a girl right up,” said Mary reaching between her legs to stroke her love button.

     Mrs. Kline and Liza applied their mouth to Mary’s breasts and it was not long before she experienced an orgasm.

     “My turn,” said Liza taking Mary’s place.

     We rested a few moments after Liza screamed her way to a powerful orgasm.

     I lay there resting between Liza and Mrs. Kline while Mary returned to the chest and withdrew a dildo similar to the one I was still wearing other than the shaft was longer and thinner.

     “I think Mrs. Chapman deserves a good ass fucking for being such a good sport about everything,” said Mary holding up the dildo for Mrs. Kline to see.

      Mrs. Kline thought for a moment before answering.  “We have to be careful and not go into the wrong hole.”

      Liza removed my dildo as Mary with Mrs. Kline’s assistance stepped into hers.  I was placed on my knees and elbows.

      “I’ll protect her pussy with my mouth,” said Mrs. Kline slipping underneath me. 

     “Care to nibble,” said Liza placing her sex at my mouth.  I answered by passing my tongue through her valley, coating it with essence. 

     Mrs. Kline’s expertise at cunnilingus was unquestionably the product of great experience.  I shivered with pleasure as her lips performed their magic.  My own tongue imitated her movements.  Liza responded with loud sighs and little squeals of delight at my efforts.

     A wet mouth and probing tongue attacked my anus.  The sensitive flesh of my sphincter responded to the insertions of Mary’s tongue and fingers.  It was not long before I felt a blunter object seek entrance.

     “Take a deep breath, Mrs. Chapman,” said Mary as she began to push the dildo inside my rectum. 

     It was a telling moment.  A short period of moderate pain was followed by growing pleasure.  “Oh, that feels good,” escaped from my lips as Mary began to slowly stroke her rubber cock deep inside my bowel.

     “I think our American cousin likes to be fucked in her shitter,” said Mary.

     Perversion had won the day.  I responded like the whore they had made me.  “That’s right, fuck my shitter and fuck it hard.”

     My climax was not long in coming.  Mrs. Kline’s skillful mouth, the presence of Liza’s wet, warm vagina against my mouth, and above all, the intense sensation of a cock deep inside my body proved irresistible. 

     I recall the way the muscles of my sex began to convulse.  I was drinking from Liza’s vagina; its sticky fluids coated my face.  Mrs. Kline’s tongue circled my love button producing the most intense sensations.  Something inside me released and I experienced my most powerful orgasm of the night.  It only ended with my exhaustion.

     I woke up hours later, curled against Mrs. Kline’s backside.  Mary was pressed against my rear and Liza was alongside her.  I quickly fell back into a deep asleep and did not wake until afternoon.