Tom and Joyce – The Early Days

           As Tom watched the last of Watson Watson's ten-inch cock bury itself between the welted cheeks of his wife, Joyce, who was bound spread-eagle fashion to the bed, he thought about the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. You talk about a mess. That was Joyce.

           He had been invited to a sorority pledge event to check out the new meat. Although no scholar, Tom was well known on campus thanks to his impressive cock and his natural talent for using it. He'd gone down to the basement to get rid of some beer when he saw Joyce. The girl was naked and tightly tied to a block of wood with her head hanging over the edge. Two enormous vibrators were churning away inside her cunt and asshole. Her mouth was wedged open with a fixture liberated from the dental department. Three guests stood around the mousy brunette, directing their streams of piss into her open mouth. Tom elbowed his way into the circle and directed his used beer into the girl's eyes, which were taped open. It was almost impossible for the pledge to avoid the stinging stream he played over her face. He even managed to shoot some up her nostrils, forcing her to gag. When he was done, Tom zipped up and went about his business, leaving the girl to the tender mercies of the line of guys waiting to use her as a urinal.

           The next day Tom got a call from one of the pledge mistresses who asked him to meet with her to discuss a problem that they were having with a pledge. It turned out to be Joyce, who just happened to be the daughter of retired general Nails Norton, one of the most famous graduates of the college. To add to the problem, her mother was a former member of the very sorority that she was attempting to join. In fact Mrs. Norton had been the sorority's sergeant at arms as well as its pledge mistress during her senior year. A legend in her own right, the former Gwen Goodbody made no bones about the fact that she went both ways and had bedded down with all of the attractive, lesbian sorority girls, and nearly half the male faculty, in many cases their wives as well. It was even rumored that Gwen had been the secret sex slave-lover of the Dean of Women.

 “ Joyce's not smart enough to be a nerd, and she's not pretty or well-built enough to be a sorority playgirl. We've got a full quota of pledges that we really want; some of them even go both ways, another thing that Joyce doesn't do. What we need is someone to take her off our hands so to speak.”  Tom scratched his head and grunted. “ Why not just kick her ass out onto the street and hope she goes away? “

 “ No can do, her dad is too well connected and mom would raise holy hell. We need some way to make her leave voluntarily,” said the girl. Tom's face lit up and he slapped his knee. “ I've got it! Turn her into the sorority fuck pig. Volunteer her for every keg party on campus. Put her phone number on every men's room wall in town, and make sure she answers every call.  Tell her its part of her initiation. If she doesn't obey, you have grounds for not pledging her.”

 The pledge mistress' face broke into a huge smile. “Tom, you may have saved my ass and as a reward you are going to get as much of it as you can handle for the next two weeks.” Tom grinned and grunted happily. “ I'll be expecting you and that hot little freshman friend of yours over at my place tonight for a nice threesome. I hear the little sweetie goes both ways, and I want to make sure of that personally.”

In theory it was a good idea, but in practice Joyce's execution left a great deal to be desired. In essence, Joyce was a rotten fuck. Couple that with her small tits that already had some sag in them, her broad and less than firm ass, the ring of flab that circled her midsection and the fact that she didn't know what function a razor provided for a girl, and you did not have a sight that excited most men. Add to that her mousy brown hair that was cut short, her lack of makeup and the plastic frame glasses she peered out at the world through, and she did not make a pretty picture. Even the sorority lesbians wouldn't do anything with her unless they were absolutely desperate. Once more it was Tom to the rescue.

He took over Joyce's career as the campus punchboard in exchange for the services of a sorority nerd for his grades and a playgirl for his personal needs. One thing Tom was able to figure out about Joyce; this mousy girl was perfectly submissive. She bowed down to authority, possibly the result of being brought up by a strong willed woman and a military disciplinarian for a father. Once she was convinced that Tom was the boss, she'd do his bidding, no matter what it was. He got the pledge mistress to ask Joyce's mother to tell her that Tom was to be obeyed as if he were her father. When that happened, he had Joyce just where he wanted her. As they say, the rest was history.

 He made the frat guys an offer they could not refuse, Joyce would be free and almost anything went provided they dragged what was left of her ass back to the sorority house whenever they got through with her. The only requirement was that she had to be able to physically attend her classes if she was entertaining during the week at private frat parties. To broaden her sexual horizons, he also arranged for Joyce to provide the entertainment at the weekly VFW post meeting, the bi-weekly UWL (United World Lesbians) celebration, and the monthly meeting of the local senior citizens social club. It turned out those old folks really knew how to party. More than once he had to get Joyce to the school infirmary after a meeting with the seniors because she had been used so hard that she didn't know who she was.

Tom supervised a complete makeover for Joyce, giving the girl a tramp-slut look that matched the pros that trolled for cock down town. She got contacts, a new do including streaked hair, learned to pile on the lipstick and makeup and most importantly got a new wardrobe. The new Joyce wore pushup bras, and tight bikini panties. Her tops were sheer to show off the black lace that cupped her sagging tits. She wore white capris that were a size too small, revealing the bikini panty line to all who weren't staring at her bare stomach which was always marked with lipstick announcing such information as which fraternity keg party she would be attending, how many men she had serviced at the last one, and the total number of times she had been fucked since becoming the sorority fuck pig. To complete her outfit she wore fuck-me pumps with lace anklets.

 Except for the frats every other organization had to pay Tom an agent's fee. Since Joyce was not getting anything for her considerable expenditure of energy, the groups could hardly complain about paying Tom for his trouble. Strange as it may seem, Joyce developed into a cult favorite on campus. The frats vied with each other to see who could do the most damage to her. To keep everything on the up and up they took to taping the action as she was mercilessly fucked to a frazzle and subjected to all manner of punishments and humiliations for her tramp-like behavior.  Tom made an arrangement with a private company to export these tapes to the Far East where they proved to be best sellers. Joyce received a number of offers to come to Japan so that she could be gangbanged and humiliated by experts. Tom started thinking about making a tour during the summer. Not only would he profit handsomely, probably he could get lots of Japanese pussy as well. The future looked bright.

One thing that Joyce proved to be very good at was getting pregnant. The sheer number of spurting cocks she was handling overwhelmed the birth control pills she took. Ever the idea man, Tom turned that to his advantage.  First he made arrangements with the school's medical department to use Joyce as a subject when the med students were taught to perform abortions. This revolutionary approach to campus medicine made him even more famous. During a typical year dozens of young ladies were usually in need of this costly, time-consuming procedure. Now thanks to Joyce's example they could avail themselves of student practitioners for next to nothing and remain on campus as well.

 Then he used her condition to create even greater rivalries between the frats. He found out that the actual date of conception could be accurately known. This information came from one of the randy senior citizens who was an expert in fertility. Armed with this knowledge, once Joyce became pregnant, usually an every other month occurrence, he had her draw an arrow pointing toward her belly and the words “ Alpha-Phi-Gamma (or whatever fraternity was responsible) Bastard on Board “. This caused a sensation on campus. Tom then arranged to have the rest of the frat houses take turns trying to unfuck Joyce. For this contest he charged a one hundred dollar fee and had Joyce strictly supervised while she was gangbanged by the biggest, baddest studs on campus. When the word got out, the townies wanted a piece of the action as well. It really got insane when the senior citizens' club, the UWL and the VFW also demanded to be included. When the faculty fielded a team, Tom knew that his ship had come in.

It got even better when one bastard to be somehow resisted the merciless assaults Joyce's cunt absorbed over the next few weeks. She now wore the words “Still Alive and Kicking” in lipstick on her stomach for all to see every morning when she attended classes. Her tally of sex partners and total number of fucks was now listed in smaller print lower down on her belly.

 Tom decreed that she restrict access to her cunt, but continue to build her reputation as the campus champion fuck pig by providing more anal sex. To make sure that no one bothered the pumpkin seed she'd swallowed, he had Joyce wear a custom made chastity belt designed and built by the school's engineering department. To express his appreciation he let the entire design and production team fuck Joyce's asshole during one of her free nights.

 He had hundreds of sweatshirts made up either supporting or insulting Joyce for being the trampy slut he had created. They sold like hotcakes. He even got a company to make a cheap version of her chastity belt and sold them for big bucks. That item got so popular that he actually franchised it to dozens of other schools. Tim was raking in the bucks like he couldn't believe.

With the help of a few of the sorority nerds Tom started to put out a weekly version of Joyce's Journal, providing all the intimate details of the campus punchboard's sex life. Each installment featured pictures of Joyce having sex with all sorts of people; frat boys, senior citizens, lesbians of all ages, as well as interviews with studs who'd fucked her, lesbians who had punished her for giving their sex a bad name, faculty members who either called for her expulsion or rehabilitation and students expressing their thoughts on what should be done about Joyce.  This became a huge moneymaker and soon was being circulated throughout the nation's campuses. Joyce got so famous that a number of the girlie magazines tried to get her to pose nude for them. Joyce was made an honorary member of dozens of swing clubs, all of whom volunteered to have her as the guest fuck pig whenever she was available. Tom had created a monster.

Joyce's status with the sorority members was raised significantly as her fame and stomach began to grow. She took a number of lovers from seniors to frosh, mostly nerds.  Often she would sleep with a pair of sorority sisters, wearing only a pair of handcuffs, servicing one while the other in turn serviced her, then reversing the roles as the night wore on. She indulged her masochistic streak as well, especially enjoying being punished and humiliated by the nerds in the sorority. Joyce claimed that she never took a douche or enema that she didn't enjoy, and the nerds delighted in attempting to make her recant her statement.

One night a chance comment made by one of the sorority nerds who had a thing for Joyce and used a custom designed dildo on her asshole every chance she got, triggered off another idea in Tom's wildly gyrating brain. The nerd had mentioned that Joyce was beginning to thin down because of all the fucking she was getting. She said it was too bad that instead of tightening up Joyce's body, it just made her saggier. A light went off in Tom's head. This time it was the department of Physiology who rose to the occasion.  A special project was formed, staffed by the brightest students and professors, to reconstruct Joyce's body. The thought of undergoing the kind of procedures they were considering did not make Joyce happy, but that was her problem.

 So here she was, just turned nineteen three months ago, now pregnant, and in a variety of lesbian relationships. Add to that Joyce was in danger of failing all of her courses despite the fact that she was having sex regularly with most of the teaching assistants plus one professor and his wife. Finally her career as the campus punchboard, flaunting her promiscuity by tallying all the men that had fucked her to date, many thousands, as well as a close estimate of the number of times she had been fucked, many more thousands, had totally ruined whatever reputation she originally had. Now Joyce was about to undergo an experimental procedure that would cause her to suffer prolonged periods of pain.

 It was enough to make a young girl want to run home to mother, except in Joyce's case that meant also running home to father. The prospect of hanging naked from a beam in the cellar while the General removed the skin from large areas of her unprotected body with a variety of implements ranging from his studded belt to that nasty whippy bamboo cane she knew all too well, made her shiver with dread.

Tom insisted that they significantly enhance the floppy pancakes that passed for her breasts, now too large for a 35A-cup bra, but too small for a B-cup.“ I want you to pump those puppies up to at least a 40DD.” Tom kept demanding. The professors argued that Joyce didn't have enough skin to allow her breasts to be expanded to beyond 38C. Then a graduate student claimed that by using a radical procedure to first increase the size of her breasts to 38C and then using hormones to greatly increase her ability to lactate, a set of 38DDs was very possible.

 The only problem, and it was a big one, was that Joyce had to be pregnant during the lactation phase of the procedure. She estimated that it would take at least two months before she would be able to begin the hormone injections, and it would take at least another two months to complete full development. At this point it would be possible to abort Joyce without causing any change in her enhanced breasts. Unfortunately Joyce was already two months gone. Performing an abortion almost into the third trimester was a daunting task. There was also another problem; her stomach, thighs, hips and even her ass would have also begun to change, undoing any efforts to reshape the rest of her body.

“ No problem” Tom exclaimed. “We let the medical people abort Joyce now. Then I'll have her knocked up just before the hormone treatments start. By the time she's a 38DD Joyce will only have been pregnant for a couple of months. Then we give her another abortion and she's ready to go.”  Once more Joyce was in debt to Tom, who was looking better and better to her. Tom seemed to be the only guy who wasn't interested in fucking her. For this Joyce was very grateful. Unfortunately the poor cow thought that was because he was developing some respect for her. The real reason couldn't be further from her naive belief.

After a quick visit to the Medical Department, Joyce was ready to be reshaped. The process involved first suctioning all the fat from the region to be changed, then replacing it with micro-beads of silicone, which could easily be contoured by means of high frequency radiation. Each section could be shaped in three days, the only side effect being severe bruising caused by the bead injections and subsequent contouring. To Tom, this was a very small price to pay for Joyce's new body. He also suggested that more than one area of her body be reshaped in each procedure in order to save time. “ What's a little pain compared to the hot new body she's going to have when this is all done? I'll bet I can get double the price for her services once this is done.” Tom said in urging them to consider this approach.

Tom made sure that Joyce continued to entertain the “troops”, as he described those who used her body. He had his friends in the Engineering Department design and build a breast protector for her. Naturally they had to test the finished product and after gangbanging Joyce for an entire evening they pronounced the design to be a success. A much more complicated design was developed to protect Joyce's stomach, thighs, hips and ass, while still leaving her best features available for use.

The poor girl was in constant pain from the continuous reshaping process.  To save money they were now operating on her with only a local anesthetic, depending on the straps to keep her stationary while the fat was sucked from her body and replaced with silicone beads. Joyce was taking more than a dozen aspirins a day in an attempt to block the continuous pain that wracked her body. It took a little more than six weeks for them to complete her breast reconstruction. She was now a quarter inch shy of being a 38C. She was also the possessor of a set of very sore black and blue breasts, a condition that would take a month to disappear.

 In a week they would know if the sperm-rich semen that had been drenching Joyce's ovaries for the last three weeks had produced the desired effect. Nearly forty guys had teamed up on this project, refraining from ejaculating for a week to build up their sperm count. These volunteers had supplemented the steady pounding her cunt had been getting at the twice-weekly keg parties, various club meetings and student-teacher conferences she attended. Even the UWL women had gotten into the spirit, collecting sperm from various sources and using a turkey baster to inseminate Joyce with tens of millions of little swimmers.

If Tom knew what the lesbians at the sorority house were doing to Joyce behind his back, he would have had apoplexy. The more militant dykes were bound and determined to prevent Joyce from becoming pregnant. This was fine with her, and so she kept quiet about what she was enduring every night. They douched her with triple strength spermicidal solution, using a series of diaphragms to hold the fiery liquid within the entire length of her vagina. Her uterus was aspirated nightly with a powerful high-speed pump. Joyce took double doses of the most powerful birth control pill that the Medical Department stocked. She also took birth control injections along with male hormones. The latter caused some consternation with the team working on reshaping her body. They could not understand why her newly formed breasts were shrinking and her pubic hair was returning despite the painful electrolysis procedures she had endured to prevent just such an occurrence. Finally a time-release spermicide was implanted within her uterus as a last line of defense against the army of wiggling sperm that blindly headed upstream inside her well-fucked cunt.

Despite all the efforts of the militant sorority lesbians Joyce became pregnant. Not only was she knocked up, she was carrying a yet to be accurately determined number of fetuses. It is said that a number of lesbians went straight when news of Jill's miraculous pregnancy was announced. It is also a fact that within weeks, as news of her triumph over the gods of sterility circulated, women came from thousands of miles away to rub Joyce's belly in hopes of conceiving. Naturally Tom was quick to take full advantage of this new money making capability that Joyce possessed. It is also whispered that Tom was mainly responsible for this miracle, having planted a mole within the ranks of the militant lesbians. This double agent was said to have compromised almost all the efforts that were made to prevent Joyce from conceiving.

In point of fact, all's well that ends well. Joyce got her new body and went back to work as the campus punchboard, a legend in her own right. Tom continued to manage her career. With the passage of time a closeness developed between them resulting in a union that continues to this day despite a few jogs in the path to true happiness. These jogs will be the subject of future installments if the muse kicks the author in the slats often enough to get his attention.