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Chapter 10 Party till You Puke
I hadn’t planned to stage what turned out to be my best orgy since my high school senior prom. It was spontaneous.
I’d shown up at Cynthia Rose’s condo to look for evidence, strictly business. Then Austin and Megan arrived to retrieve their bestiality videos from Cynthia’s safe. I’d called Malcolm Fraser because we needed someone to open the safe.
When Malcolm stated that his eclectic talents required compensation, I made him the proverbial offer he could not refuse a no limits fuck session with Austin and Megan. The girls, after minimal protests agreed to compensate Malcolm on his terms. So it all started innocently enough.
Given that the pair of college sluts was attractive with excellent figures highlighted by the breast augmentations normally found in young femmes with wealthy parents, I saw no reason not to participate. I signaled my intention by taking a firm grip on their buttocks while we watched Malcolm ready his safe cracker tools.
Safe cracking is highly skilled work and the practitioners of the art are the royalty of the criminal world. Keeping up with the latest technology and maintaining one’s skills over a broad array of manufacturers requires continuing education and study.
The girls and I made out and fondled each other all the while keeping a wary eye on Malcolm’s progress. They signaled their eagerness to get started by shedding their tank tops and offering me their augmented boobs to kiss and suck. In no time, my cock was rock hard and their pussies had that nice wet feel signaling all cocks were welcome.
“You’re huge,” said Megan who’d slipped her hand inside my fly to check out my package. “Feel it, Austin.”
“I’m going to have a sore pussy, tomorrow,” said Austin after slowly passing her small warm hand over my cock and balls. She was a petite strumpet, barely five feet tall. My thick nine inches would penetrate almost ten per cent of her length, more if you only considered her torso. I didn’t doubt she could handle it. She appeared the kind that craved that full of dick feeling.
“You slut,” said Megan as she engaged in a prolonged tongue kiss with her friend. “I bet that’s not the only hole that sore. Austin loves to take it in the ass. She’s an ATM girl that prefers a little brown on her lick stick.”
“Good thing to know,” I said picturing my stained rod sliding between her lips. It appeared things were going to get anal and I didn’t think a trip to the bathroom to douche was in the offing. College sex had changed since my day. Bisexuality was in as was S&M and fetishes like water sports. In the S&M category, the level of execution far exceeded the open palm spankings I begged for in college.
Orgies tax the body and sear the soul but I find them spiritually renewing. I did not doubt that I would be limping home with sore balls, a raw dick, and a tired tongue. As it turned out, I suffered much worse.
“You guys don’t start without me,” said Malcolm looking over his shoulder.
“We won’t, but hurry up. They’re getting me horny,” I said to speed him along.
Of course, a proper orgy requires an appropriate setting. Cynthia’s condo was spacious and well appointed with soft Italian leather couches and a deep pile carpet suitable for group acts without danger of rug burn. Another contributing factor was a full pantry containing several cases of Red Bull, Sam Adams Lager, and Poland Springs mineral water. Proper hydration is important if an orgy is to have legs.
Party girl Cynthia had a well stocked liquor cabinet that contained a full case of premium vodka. There was also a selection of aged cognacs and brandies to savor after a good fuck. A humidor filled with contraband Cuban cigars sat on the dining room buffet. I would be hard pressed to describe a more perfect setting for a two day fuck-a-thon.
The contents of Cynthia’s night stand and her S&M paraphernalia also played a major role in the long running event. As it turned out, some of her furniture had a dark side. It had been custom built to convert into instruments of restraint and torture. The comfortable looking sectional sofa was fitted with concealed rings for attaching restraints.
Based on the ready manner that arriving participants located the rings, I concluded Cynthia’s condo was not hosting its first orgy.
An institutional pack of pre-lubed Maxims XL was available for the body fluid adverse. Cynthia Rose was a woman of refined tastes and I wish I had screwed her before she was murdered.
Cynthia’s high definition bestiality DVD’s were of excellent quality and the fifty four inch flat panel television rendered them beautifully. Top of the line Bose speakers produced an unmatched surround sound effect. Any time I felt my energy flagging during the two day affair, I would close my eyes and focus on the sounds filling the room. Listening to an innocent young college girl moaning and cursing as she was impaled and knotted by dog cock equals a double dose of Viagra.
A proper orgy requires a continuous influx of fresh bodies. Cynthia’s building contained numerous BC students of good families and bad morals. Once the word spread that her friends were holding a naked wake in her condo, there was an ongoing infusion of talent.
Finally, no modern American orgy would be complete without a supply of drugs, especially cocaine and crystal meth, and those were provided by the contents of Cynthia’s safe.
“What have we here,” asked Malcolm peering into the now open safe?
“Stand back, I need to search for evidence,” I said putting my hand on his shoulder to pull him away.
“Cynthia had the best drugs of any girl at Boston College,” said Megan. “Let’s get high before we party.”
Drugs are not my thing since Boston PD performs random tests and the penalty for failure is dismissal from the force. Cynthia’s supply of controlled substances would have qualified her for life imprisonment in any state of the union. However, since I am not assigned to vice, they were not my concern.
I handed back numerous phials of designer and prescription drugs to Malcolm and the girls who were delighted to receive such bounty. In preparation for payment, Malcolm had exposed his impressive manhood for the ladies to admire and touch. Being children of the pharmacological age, they freely sampled the pain killers and anti-depressants passing them to each other while commenting on their effects or experience.
“Take this,” I said passing a gallon sized freezer bag stuffed with marijuana to Austin.
“Cynthia had a connection in Vancouver. This is BC Bud with a THC of fifteen or better,” said Austin. “It will knock you on your ass.”
“Roll us some joints, Austin” said Megan one hand holding drugs and the other stroking Malcolm’s cock.
“Yes, Mistress,” said Austin establishing her submissive role as she headed to the living room.
“I need a minute alone to look for real evidence,” I said having spotted something of interest.
“You won’t forget about giving us the DVDs,” asked Megan?
“No, but I need to look at them first,” I said.
“Give me one. We can watch while we screw,” said Megan.
“Here,” I said handing Megan one of the dozen DVDs.
“Great, I’m in this one with Rex the Wonder Dog,” said Megan examining the title.
My desire for privacy resulted from the discovery of several jewelry boxes in the safe’s drawer. As a reward for my efforts toward discovering Cynthia’s killer(s), I decided she would want me to have her exquisite pearl necklace and spectacular diamond earrings and matching bracelet. Being a modest policeman, I reluctantly left several other items including a jeweled Ebel watch. Watches are easy to trace.
I closed the safe then placed my just rewards in my evidence case along with two of the DVDs and took the precaution of taking my booty downstairs and locking it in my car. That turned out to be a wise move on my part.
I planned to share the DVDs with my family. Nikki would immediately demand we get a dog.
The orgy began with a Megan directed BDSM session that rocked my world and kicked my libido into high gear. I know it’s fucked up but there is nothing like pain and brutality to bring out the worst in me.
The action had already started by the time I reached the living room. Malcolm was reclining on the couch with his leg’s spread and anus exposed. Austin was kneeling and sucking his cock. I took a minute to admire her technique as I undressed.
The index finger of her left hand was working his anus sliding deep to stimulate his prostate then withdrawing only to repeat a moment later. Her right hand had a firm grip on the base of his sack pulling and twisting to bring those pleasure centers into play. The back of her hand pressed against his frenulum complementing the work of her left hand on his prostate. Austin’s oral skills were admirable. Maintaining eye contact she worked his cock head with her tongue before slowly coursing down the shaft to bury her lips against his shaved base. An observable bulge in her throat showed she had overcome her gag reflex.
It was an impressive performance of oral gratification. Obviously, Austin was a young lady who took pride in her oral skills. There was nothing the Kama Sutra could teach her about the art of cock sucking.
“Eat me, Lieutenant,” commanded Megan who was seated beside Malcolm sucking his nipples while applying a large vibrator to her clit. It was the kind that plugged into the wall. My sister Arlene has similar equipment. Batteries are for middle school girls according to Arlene.
“Simon will do,” I said finishing stripping off my clothes. I saw no need for such formality from a woman who would soon have my tongue in her snatch.
Megan’s vagina was oozing natural lubricant as I buried my face in the folds of her labia. My tongue circled her opening savoring the viscous secretions. Her sex had a strong, healthy and natural flavor. No pomegranate douche for her twat. In my view, pussy tastes perfect as God intended it. Adding fruity flavors is for dilettantes.
On screen, Megan and Austin were sharing an oversized canine cock I assumed belonged to Rex the Wonder Dog. The digitized sounds of the girls slurping away on Rex competed with the real noises of the four of us. It wasn’t long before Megan wrapped her thighs around my head squeezing my face into her flowing cunt as she orgasmed. I was covered in cunt juice from forehead to chin when she finished.
“I like to start off with a good orgasm,” said Megan after a couple of recovery breaths. “Now let’s get down to business. Are you a submissive, Simon?”
She was definitely a take charge girl who sensed that while I was an officer of the law and therefore an authority figure that my sexual preferences at the moment ran toward the submissive. I was feeling guilty about some of the evidence I’d collected. I needed to be punished severely for being a thief, a part time faggot, and a false friend. My sins were myriad and could only be expiated by suffering.
“Yes, Mistress Megan, I submit my body to you. I am an unworthy slave who will accept any punishments you offer,” I said signaling my willingness to play her game and become her pain bitch.
“Excellent, open your mouth, you pathetic piece of shit,” said Megan raising my head to hers using my hair as a handhold.
I did as I was told. My reward was the sizeable gob of spit she expectorated on my tongue.
“Swallow it, pig,” said Megan.
“It’s delicious, Mistress,” I said and I meant it. Degradation was turning me on big time.
“For being such a good pig, you get a reward,” said Megan producing a pair of clothespins.
“Thank you, Mistress,” I hissed as hard wooden teeth snapped shut on my nipples. The prospect of a clothespin regime caused my penis to jump with joy.
“Got any more of those, Megan,” asked Malcolm? “Austin’s nips need some attention.”
A minute later, Austin gasped in pain as Malcolm captured her large buds in the pinchers. Does anyone use clothespins to dry laundry anymore?
Megan continued her sputum fetish. “Malcolm, Simon wants you to spit in his mouth. Don’t you, Simon?”
“Yes, Mistress, please Malcolm,” I said.
“Beg him more,” said Megan.
“Please, Malcolm, spit in my faggot mouth. I want to swallow your spit,” I said in my most humble voice.
“Open wide, pig,” said Malcolm leaning in my direction.
“Thank you,” I said before gulping down another sizeable gob of warm sputum. Few things are as degrading as being forced to swallow someone’s expectorate. I felt hot all over as the slime traveled down my gullet.
Megan slumped down, raised her legs, and grabbed her insoles. She pulled her legs back toward her head exposing her anus. “Lick my asshole clean, Simon. I took a dump after my morning shower and forgot to wipe.
In submissive mode, I get off licking a ripe asshole. No, I’m not really into scat and I don’t eat turds. But that doesn’t mean I can’t revel in the smell and taste of a pretty girl’s shit. After I cleaned Megan’s ass, she made me do Malcolm’s and Austin’s. She would have had me do my own if that had been possible.
Megan peed in a glass then got Malcolm to add his urine so Austin and I could share a piss cocktail. While scat is not my thing, water sports are. I love the taste of body temperature urine. Given that my sister and brother also partake of the juice of the bladder, I consider it a DNA issue. When we were kids, the three of us would piss in a jar, shake it up, and then pour it into one of those molds you put in the freezer. We spent many a hot summer afternoon licking a refreshing pee sickle.
Austin was just as big a water sports aficionado as I. We would take a swallow then kiss and share. Drinking a full bladder of body temperature urine is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
My intense need to be punished was the reason I agreed when Megan announced there was a sling in Cynthia’s bedroom and I was going to be the occupant. Harsh punishment would expiate my sins.
The sling was concealed under the bed. Megan showed me a stepladder I could use to suspend it from ceiling hooks.
Minutes later, I was in the sling under restraint with wrists and ankles cuffed to the support chains. My mouth was forced open by a Whitehead gag permitting the three of them to grace me with another round of sputum. The sling was tilted so my head was several inches lower than my butt making it convenient to release body fluids into my mouth.
Megan wrapped twine around my ball sack separating my testicles and forcing them into tight pouches at the bottom of my scrotum. She attached a metal hook to the free end of the twine than added a weight and let it drop a good foot.
I screamed in pain since it felt like my nuts were being ripped off. CBT wise, I was off to a good start.
“Tell me you love me,” said Megan stroking my cock.
“I love you Mistress,” I answered as the pain subsided.
“I love you too, Simon,” said Megan before adding a second weight to the hook then allowing it to drop.
“Fuck,” I screamed as the slack left the twine and my sack went crazy with pain.
“If you really love me, you’ll want us to whip your cock and balls,” said Megan handing Malcolm and Austin two foot lengths of flexible bamboo.
“Please, whip them,” was all I managed through the gag? They must have heard me or it did not matter, because Austin snapped the bamboo across my nut sack and I was off to Planet Pain. Malcolm concentrated on my pecker head as Austin worked my over stretched nuts. I screamed as I twisted and turned, desperate to escape the agony in my sex. Somehow I transitioned from pain to pleasure and started to beg them to strike me harder. After Austin landed a particularly brutal strike across my testicles, I ejaculated. Megan captured my load in her hand, fed most of it to me then rubbed the rest over my face.
“Let me sound him,” said Austin unzipping a leather case containing a set of Van Buren sounds.
I am terrified of sounds. I whimpered in terror as Austin coated the thin metal rod with lubricant then positioned the J-curved end just inside my piss hole.
“This is the 32F, the thickest but you can take it,” said Austin as she gave the sound a slight twist that started the twelve inch rod on its journey to my bladder.
My piss hole was not a 32F and the sensation was not for the squeamish as the rod slowly descended to reach my bladder. Just as it was about to reach its maximum depth, Austin quickly pulled it out. I went out of my mind with pain.
“Oh, did that hurt,” laughed Austin as she once more allowed the sound to descend.
“You girls really know how to hurt a guy. What’s that, Megan?” said Malcolm referring to the stainless steel anal probe she was about to slide up my ass.
“It’s called a Pod. Its weight is what makes it effective. Here, you can put it in,” said Megan handing it to Malcolm.
“Jesus, its heavy,” said Malcolm hefting the Pod as he coated it with lubricant.
“It’s surgical steel and weighs over three pounds. The ball on the end is three inches in diameter,” said Megan.
I wanted to plead and beg for them to stop but all I could do was babble through the Whitehead gag. Austin was driving me crazy spinning the Van Buren sound. I swear to God I could feel it stirring the piss in my bladder. She repeatedly pulled it half way out causing me untoward agony. I’d never been sounded before. Having your piss slit expanded hurts like all hell.
I gasped as Malcolm forced the round head of the Pod pass my sphincter. It felt huge as it traveled through my rectum to rest beside my prostate. It weighed on my prostate and I wanted to come but there was a steel rod blocking my sperm’s escape route.
Just when I though matters could not get more intense, Megan produced two large tuning forks. She banged on a table then touched it to the end of the sound. The other vibrating fork contacted the end of the Pod. I went out of my mind as the vibrations traveled down the metal into the base of my penis and prostate.
“Cool,” said Malcolm. “He looks like he’s ready to shit a brick.”
“Each fork is tuned to a different harmonic. They complement each other. The effect is extraordinary,” said Megan.
It was a different type of pain and difficult to describe. I would have begged Megan to get my revolver and blow my brains out except for the gag. The sensation was intolerable.
“Last semester, we sounded a freshman girl this way and the little slut had a nervous breakdown. She’s in a clinic in Boulder, Colorado, crazy as a loon,” said Austin reapplying the tuning fork to the tip of the sound.
“I’ve never heard of this,” said Malcolm. “I never went to college so I missed out on this kind of shit.”
After a few minutes of reducing my prostate to jelly, Megan equipped my torturers with cattle prods and the fun continued. On several occasions in the past, I employed a Bull Zapper 1000 to the testicles of a criminal unwilling to provide information required to insure that justice is done. It had invariably produced the desired data at the cost of a few burn marks that healed before his trial.
Austin and Megan applied the forked tips of the Zapper to the Van Buren and Pod and simultaneously pulled the trigger. My prostate and bladder protested loudly as they received voltage from two directions. I contorted and convulsed noiselessly screaming my agony into the Whitehead gag.
Alternating applications of the tuning forks and cattle prods broke my spirit and I began to cry like a baby. Tears gushed from my eyes as I crossed that invisible line where pain became confused with pleasure. I found myself thanking Divine Providence for having placed me in the hands of two such wonderful girls. I love them with all my heart and even felt great affection for Malcolm who delighted in bringing the forked tip of the Zapper in contact with the metal of my Whitehead Gag. I thought the fillings in my teeth were going to melt.
Just when I thought the agony was at its peak, Megan produced two “ball beaters.” Ball beaters are aptly named, eighteen inches long with a handle on one end and a round rubber ball on the other. The rubber ball is bright blue signifying that after your testicles are subjected to a good ball beating; you will have the world’s worst case of blue balls.
While Megan pounded my nuts to ravioli, Austin and Malcolm applied the Zappers and tuning forks. My role was to attempt screaming through the Whitehead gag. After what seemed like forever, my body decided that it had reached the end of its endurance and I passed out.
Several minutes later, I awakened to the splash of a warm fluid on my face. The fluid turned out to be Malcolm’s piss taking advantage of his opportunity to urinate in the mouth of one of Boston’s finest.
As they were helping me out of the swing, Megan answered her cell. After a brief conversation, she announced that Bernard Pike was on his way up in the elevator. He and several friends were bringing Cynthia’s dogs they had retrieved from Longwood Kennels. While yours truly was searching the safe, Megan and Austin had called Cynthia’s friends to invite them to pay their respects by attending a naked wake and orgy in her condo.
According to Bernard, it could not be a proper wake without Cynthia’s fuck hounds that she had personally trained.
“Ever suck doggie dick, Simon,” asked Austin helping me to stand?
“No,” I answered truthfully as three large canines bounded in the room to sniff my peter and lick Austin’s pussy.
“You’re lucky. This will be your chance to expand your horizons.”
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