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Bending To Their Will

My life today would certainly be much different if I had worn panties that day. But I didn't. In high school I found that I could, in a sense, rebel against my strict upbringing by not wearing any underwear, and while that was as far as I ever explored my sexuality I knew all the other girls were having wonderful experiences with their sexual awakenings. I concentrated solely on my studies. I was alone in my isolation and it continued through college, through my marriage to a respectable but totally boring man. Then my life took an unexpected twist.

Roger and Cheyenne moved into the house next to us six months ago. Those are their names but I am only allowed to call them Master and Mistress when I talk to them. I offered to help Cheyenna with unpacking and setting up her house. She was grateful for the help and I found her to be a warm, fun and very beautiful girl. We were the same age but that is where the similarity ended. She was outgoing, very intense and extremely sexy. She wore very sexy, revealing outfits, and she was openly playful and flirty with her husband. I thought of my own dry relationship with my husband, and I admit I was jealous. Cheyenne talked openly about sex, about her own lusts and cravings and asked me so many personal questions I became a bit embarrased.

Then I finally admitted the truth to my newfound friend and confidant. I had never had an orgasm in my whole life. No, I admitted when she asked, my vagina doesn't even get wet. Except, well except when I sometimes go out in public without panties. That was the extent of my sex life and I felt so foolish admitting it. She was so understanding, however, and held me in her arms, comforting me. The intensity of that brief contact nearly brought me to tears. I didn't know what I was feeling but I knew it was good and I knew I liked it.

The weekend came and I picked some lovely flowers from my small garden to give to my lovely new friend. I had found that she was constantly on my mind. Shivers raced through my body each time she briefly touched me, holding my hand or caressing my face. I didn't know it then but I was falling in love with her. As I wrapped the flowers I had chosen for her I decided what I would wear, hoping that she would find me pretty, I suppose, although I could not yet think of myself as sexy. The skirt I chose was short and very tight. I slipped my slender legs into new nylons, imagining her being pleased if she looked under my skirt and catching a brief glimpse of my stockings tops. I didn't understand that desire inside of me but it grew stronger as I chose a strapless top to finish my outfit and walked next door.

"Cheyenne is not home right now," Roger said. "Why don't you take these flowers to the kitchen and arrange them in a vase. She will love them, I'm sure."

I leaned over the kitchen counter double-checking my arrangement. I wanted it to look just right. Rogers hand suddenly was on my exposed thigh and quickly slipped under my skirt. His fingers found my vagina and the palm of his hand pressed strongly against my clitoris.

It has never been pleasurable for me to have my body touched by a man and I have never enjoyed what is commonly called "finger fucking." That was about to change.

His fingers brutally crushed my clit. The intense pain of his assault was so unexpected that I couldn't speak, and I could not comprehend what was happening. His fingers were rough, demanding, pulling and pinching my clit before suddenly being thrust deeply into my vagina. Quickly, almost instantly, my vagina had become a pussy. His fingers rammed into my pussy hard, fast, deep and demanding that it cum. Still unable to speak I could only moan but I don't know if those feeble cries were audible. I felt something new, something strange. I felt the beginning of an orgasm, my first time ever. Sensing it he again grabbed my clit and squeezed hard, pulling, twisting, torturing it. The pain was intense but I felt it grow soft and warm as it spread throughout my body. My eyes were closed as he punished my pussy with his powerful hands I heard the sound of a zipper. I know I moaned deeply as he pulled three fingers from inside me and began slapping my clit. The pain was so intense. He pulled the back of my skirt up and I felt his penis -- his cock -- thrust into my soaking wet pussy. He merely held it there as I secretly, and shamefully, begged him to drive in and out, to take me, to fuck me, something I knew then I wanted and needed.

Instead of finishing me off with a hard driving fuck then and there, and I was on the very edge, he pulled out. I felt the tip of his cock searching for my ass. I had never been fucked in the ass, or even fingered, but that too was about to change. I felt the head of his massive cock pressing into me. Then it was inside me. The pain forced a scream from my lips and I nearly passed out. Instead of giving my virgin ass time to adjust he forced his cock deep inside, all the way in just one thrust.

He fucked my ass hard and fast while his fingers continued to brutalized my clit. Then it happened. The floodgates inside me opened and my cum began to gush, quick little explosions followed by one long, deep orgasm that caused my legs to collapse. I was hanging on his cock in my ass and his fingers stuck in my pussy. Three times in rapid succession I came, each time stronger than the last. Finally he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head back as his cock raced to climax in my ass. He growled in my ear. Over and over he repeated it. "Slut. Slut. Slut."

His cum was hot. I felt it filling me. I felt it trickling out of my ass. Strangely I found myself wanting it in my mouth. He pulled his cock out and still holding me by my hair he turned me around. He slapped my face hard, so hard it stung, so hard that the pain raced to my pussy and started exciting it, stimulating it.

He continued slapping me. Then he kissed me. Then he slapped me again, five times, six times. My pussy exploded again and I squirted, hot pussy juice and cum all over the kitchen floor.

Slowly I was able to once again open my eyes and focus on what was around me. Cheyenne was standing there, watching, and then she took me by the hand.

"Come, my pet, let me kiss all those sore spots for you," she whispered in my ear. I followed her to the bedroom.

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